Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3537545.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Lily_Luna_Potter/Bill_Weasley, Bill_Weasley/Ginny_Weasley
  Character:
      Lily_Luna_Potter, Bill_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Oral_Sex, Anal_Sex, Rough_Sex, Violent_Sex,
      Sibling_Incest, Uncle/Niece_Incest, Cross-Generation_Relationship, Age
      Difference, Older_Man/Younger_Woman, Infidelity, Dirty_Talk, Breathplay,
      Dom/sub, Emotional_Manipulation, Community:_hp_het_taboo
  Collections:
      HP_Het_Taboo
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-03-13 Words: 13094
****** These Violent Delights (Have Violent Ends) ******
by Ely_Baby
Summary
     The Polyjuice would last one hour, enough for Lily to get into
     Gringotts and out again with 50 Galleons borrowed from her parents'
     vault.
     She didn't know that Uncle Bill had other plans for her.
Notes
     No website has clearer warning tags than AO3, so don't come crying to
     me for what you read - that said, this story has very strong themes
     and extremely graphic scenes, please read with caution.
     My partner in crime for this filthy piece of porn is the person the
     story is gifted to (and the one I enslaved and the one who was so
     fantastic as to offer her beta services and make the fic ten
     gazillion times better), you cannot even imagine what kind of
     brainstorming sessions we have. They would probably make James Deen
     blush.
                                      ***
Lily—
Fred said that the hostel is packed the weekend of the concert. Urgh, I told
James we should have booked back in March, didn’t I? He never listens! I
suggested we camp outside Glanstonbury with the Muggles, but Uncle Bill doesn’t
want Dominique to sleep with guys right outside her tent. She was mortified!
LOL! Roxy said there’s a cheap B&B in Pilton, but we need to get with it and
book before it fills up too.
Small, little, insignificant problem… we’re 50 Galleons short! Please tell me
you have a secret stash of money under your mattress, pretty please, Lily…
                                                     Love you so freaking much,
                                                                           Rose
***
Lily could hear her mother’s voice coming from the kitchen. She was talking to
the soufflé again, threating to hex it if it didn’t stay up until dinner time.
Then there was a loud clutter of cutlery falling to the floor and a hushed
curse as she probably tried to locate her wand to tidy up.
Lily held her breath and slid out of the door of her bedroom and into the
corridor, her bare feet curling on the suddenly very cold floor. She took a
few, silent steps to her left and stopped to listen to her brothers talking
animatedly about the concert in James’ room. James had finally conceded his
mistake in not booking sooner, but Al didn’t seem to want to let the subject
drop and was telling him just how stupid he had been to want to wait.
Lily took a deep breath and kept walking. She reached the double door to her
parents’ bedroom and stopped another time to listen to her mother calling the
soufflé names that Grandma Molly wouldn’t have been too fond of, before sinking
her teeth into her bottom lip and finally pushing the door open and stepping
inside.
She closed it quickly behind her back and looked around with wide eyes. Bloody
hell, she was in there every other day, borrowing her mother’s makeup and her
vintage clothes without asking, and she had never felt as nervous as she was at
that moment. She willed her heart to be a bit less deafening in her ears and
tried to focus.
Bathroom. Hair. Now.
She tiptoed to the master bathroom and went straight for the hairbrushes wedged
carelessly into the ceramic pot over the basin. They were all tightly wrapped
in her mother’s thick, shiny hair, and all Lily had to do was to grab a corner
of the net of red locks and pull to get more hair than she knew what to do
with.
She felt the silky texture under her fingertips as she pulled it off the brush.
When she finally had it in her hand, a shiver ran down her spine. She was going
to do it, she was really going to do it.
Her parents would have been so disappointed in her if they found out; they
would probably punish her by forbidding her to go on any kind of trip or
concert ever. Hell, they would probably ground her until she was fifty.
But her cousins… they would celebrate her feats with a song, and Fred would put
her on his shoulders and jump around the B&B room, and James and Al would stop
calling her little this and little that, and they would just bow to her
courage.
She closed her fingers around the hair and smiled.
“Look what the cat’s dragged in.”
She turned so fast on her heels that she had to grab the basin behind her back
to keep from losing her balance. “Dad!” she exclaimed, voice high with guilt
and annoyance. “I hate when you do that!”
Her father crossed his arms and leant against the doorframe. “When I do what?
When I catch a little thief in my bathroom?” He grinned at her; his Auror
uniform was already half undone, and all he probably wanted was to take a
shower.
“No,” replied Lily curtly. Her hand was still grasping the basin, her other one
closed around the hair. “When you sneak up on me.”
Her father cocked his head as if to let her know without words how ridiculous
she was. “Are you stealing Mum’s makeup again?” he asked her with a sigh. “You
know she doesn’t like that.”
“I… I wasn’t…” she stammered before backpedalling, “Just a bit of perfume,
maybe…” She fluttered her eyelashes and pouted slightly. “You’re not going to
tell on me, Daddy, are you?” she asked softly.
Her father shook his head and chuckled. “Get out, Lily,” he told her, moving
from the door to let her pass.
A bright smile of relief stretched her lips as she hurried back into the master
bedroom. With Auror-sharp reflexes, he grabbed her waist and hugged her tightly
before releasing her. “Thank you, Daddy,” she called after him as he walked
into the bathroom.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, shutting the door at his back.
She practically ran back into her room, closed the door, and knelt next to her
bed, taking out a little wooden box from underneath it.
She didn’t have a secret stash of money under her mattress.
She had something better.
***
Lily’s heels ticked on the pebbles of Diagon Alley with more insistence than
they would normally. She felt graceless and awkward as she crossed the street
in the flowery dress, nervously closing her fingers around the strap of her
bag.
She was tense, and that wouldn’t do her any good. She had to look confident and
pretend to know what she was doing and what she was talking about. If Aunt
Hermione had managed to get into Gringotts in the body of Bellatrix Lestrange,
she could do it wearing her mother’s features.
She raised her head on the imposing façade of the bank and brushed the flaming
locks away from her face almost impatiently, before hastily smoothing them with
manicured fingers.
It was going to be easy. She just had to breathe and walk in there with her
head held high. She would ask to be brought to the Potters’ vault because she
needed to retrieve some Galleons. Did she have to say how many? Probably. And
then they would assign her a goblin who would accompany her into the bowels of
the building. She had been there once, with her father. She remembered the cart
and the exhilarating feeling at every turn as it plunged down the slopes and
past vaults and gorges.
She had screamed back then and laughed, but she bet that her mother didn’t
scream.
She took a deep breath and raised her chin as she finally walked towards the
doors with a hand stretched in front of her. The door opened before she could
touch it, though, and she almost stumbled over the goblin in gold and red robes
that looked at her with a severe stare.
“Oh… I… I…” she babbled, unsure of what to say.
“Mrs Potter,” growled the goblin, bowing his head slightly before closing the
door at her back.
“Th-thank you,” she stammered. She turned away from the creature and swallowed.
A set of doors stood before her and, as she tried to remember which door her
father had used when he had brought her with him, another goblin made the
choice for her. She babbled another thanks before going through it. She found
herself in the vast marble hall, where long counters stretched along its length
and behind them doors led off to the vault passageways. Around the counters a
hundred goblins sat at them.
She felt as if all eyes were on her; she turned all shades of red as the
clinking of her heels echoed off the tall walls. It was just like it had been
at the Leaky Cauldron, when she had emerged from the flames. The first thing
Hannah had asked her was if she was all right, because she looked a bit
flustered. Then Neville had pointed out that he thought she was down in River
Piddle for the Puddlemere trainings today. Why did Neville have to know
everything about her mother? Lily had blurted out a confused excuse and hurried
out of the inn before they could offer her a Butterbeer. 
But the goblins weren’t concerned with anything except gold and financial
transactions, and when Lily stopped in front of one of them who was sporting a
long, wart-covered nose and a pair of lunettes she had to clear her throat to
make him acknowledge her.
The goblin raised his eyes from the paper, and he placed the quill he held in
his wrinkly hand back into the ink bottle. “Yes?” he inquired, eyes two
fissures.
“Hello,” said Lily tersely, nodding slightly to accompany that word. “I want to
access my vault.” She congratulated herself for her firm tone and the secure
smile that she managed to plaster on her lips.
The goblin nodded back at her. “I see, Mrs Potter,” he replied calmly. He
opened a drawer and fished out a piece of parchment. “Are you retrieving
something or are you depositing?”
“Retrieving,” she replied. “Fifty Galleons,” she added in a whisper that felt
rather guilty to her ears.
The goblin nodded as he filled in the parchment with her details. He didn’t
have to ask her anything else, though, for he seemed to know everything about
her already. When he was done, he gestured to another goblin to come and
retrieve the paper, before he looked back at Lily. “Please, Mrs Potter, you can
wait in the passageway. Mr Weasley will be with you shortly.”
Lily nodded in understanding. “Thank y—” The voice died in her throat. “What?”
she whispered instead. Had she understood him correctly? Had he really said…
Her eyes widened as she looked up at the goblin once again. No, no, no, not
Uncle Bill, not Uncle Bill… She didn’t want him. Bloody hell! He would notice
big time that she was not her mother, and even if he didn’t… he would want to
know why she needed the money. Maybe he wouldn’t ask directly, but he would
want to make some small talk, or maybe he would ask carelessly why she was
there as they talked about children and Grandma Molly and all those things that
siblings talked about. She shook her head forcefully. “No, no, no,” she told
the goblin in a hiss, “no need to disturb Mr Weasley.”
The goblin quirked a prickly eyebrow at her. “You always ask for Mr Weasley’s
assistance, Mrs Potter,” he reminded her, “every time you come.”
“Not today,” she replied, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress to hide
the fact that they were shaking. “Please, a goblin is more than fine this time,
please.”
The goblin looked at her as if she was just a nuisance. “Of course, Mrs
Potter,” he finally growled, “if this is what you’d like.”
“Yes, yes, thank you,” she replied, swallowing loudly.
The goblin gestured for her to walk towards one of the doors at the far end of
the hall and she nodded shakily as she finally made her way to it.
She tormented her mother’s bag with her fingers as she walked, her mind
wandering to what she had to do next. The Polyjuice would last one hour, no
more, no less. When she had made the best Draught of Peace of her whole
classroom – better than Hugo’s, and he had pouted for the whole day afterwards
– Slughorn had given her the phial and a light pat on her back. He had told her
specifically that it would last only sixty minutes, not because it was a badly
brewed potion – “I know how to brew this potion perfectly well, thank you very
much, Miss Potter!” – but because he said that an hour was more than enough for
a student to get into trouble.
It was true, but today she would cause no trouble whatsoever. Nobody would even
notice that she was there. Only Uncle Bill, maybe, if they had already talked
to him, but she would dismiss him with a smile and he wouldn’t even remember to
mention it next time they were all at the Burrow.
The door opened of its own accord and she slid into through it, entering a much
smaller and much more humid room, with a cart waiting for her at the beginning
of a dark tunnel.
She brushed some tickling locks away from her face. How could her mother always
look perfect when her hair wasn’t long enough to be kept behind her shoulders?
She didn’t know. She fished out a pocket mirror but acknowledged how stupid
that was. After the ride, her hair would be everywhere.
“You’re as gorgeous as always.”
The mirror ended on the floor with a loud scattering of shards at her feet. She
let out a gasp before turning away and stepping back from the man who had
whispered in her ear. “Uncle Bill,” she groaned, freezing as she realised what
she had just called him.
Luckily, he was chortling at her reaction, not really listening or hearing her
words. He raised his hands near his face as if to ask for forgiveness. “I’m
sorry,” he chuckled, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He slid his fingers in his
long hair, pulling it away from his face. He grinned at her, before nodding
towards the flowery dress that she had chosen from her mother’s wardrobe.
“Looking good there, Ginny,” he told her with a little wink. “I didn’t expect
you today,” he added, his voice dropping a little.
Lily could still feel her heart beat in her throat. She had to get a grip. He
had scared her, but this was just Uncle Bill; all she had to do was be polite
and tell him she was in a hurry. He would hug her and tell her they would see
each other on Sunday at the Burrow. Nothing easier.
“I know,” she said, trying to stretch her lips into a smile, “I’m… I’m sorry.
I’m in hurry today, Bill, I need to retrieve 50 Galleons from my vault. It was
unexpected, unexpected expenses… that’s… that’s why I didn’t call… announce…
got an appointment with you.”
He slid a leather string from his wrist and tied up his hair at the nape of his
neck. “Hey, no problem,” he murmured, his blue eyes roaming from her face, “you
know I like it when you surprise me.”
Lily felt herself blush without knowing why. She had to look away from his
eyes, though, as she went on, “I… I asked for a goblin to take me to the vault,
I… I only have half an hour, forty minutes tops, really.” She smiled as she
looked at him now, “So, I’ll see you at the Burrow Sunday, yeah?”
Uncle Bill furrowed his brow as he registered her words. He took a step towards
her and Lily felt the urge to take one back, her heels making the shards creak.
“Half an hour is plenty of time,” he replied quietly, his teeth bared in a
grin, “remember at your wedding?”
Lily’s forehead creased in concentration. Her mother’s wedding? No, she didn’t
remember, she wasn’t even there! But what did all that have to do with
Gringotts and Galleons? She had the vague feeling that they were talking about
two different things there. “Yeah, it was fun,” she replied vaguely, not
knowing what he wanted to hear. “But—”
“Fun,” he laughed, “fun… Ah, Ginny, what would I do without you?”
She didn’t have to reply, because two goblins waddled their way towards them at
that very moment. One didn’t even look at them as he positioned himself at the
front of the cart; the other went to stand in front of Lily.
“Mrs Potter,” he said, “we may go.”
She nodded hastily, feeling utterly relieved to finally leave Uncle Bill there;
she just hoped he wouldn’t corner her once she got back.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Blordak,” said Uncle Bill affably, “I’m sure you have
lots to do. I’ll take her to her vault.”
The goblin looked at him with a torn expression. “I was told she requested a
goblin,” he told him thoughtfully. “Didn’t you, Mrs Potter?”
Lily nodded frantically, her eyes wide.
“She just didn’t want to disturb me,” replied Uncle Bill with a grin, “but I
don’t have any clients until midday.”
The goblin rubbed his potato-shaped nose. “I do have things to do…” he
muttered.
“I bet you do,” replied Uncle Bill warmly, “so why don’t you go and do them?
I’ll take good care of Mrs Potter here.”
Lily groaned audibly as the goblin gingerly agreed and thanked Uncle Bill,
before waddling his way back to the hall. She felt a vague anger rising at the
pit of her stomach for having been treated like a little girl by her uncle,
even when he thought she was her mother. Uncle Bill had completely disregarded
her desire to do as she liked, and if in her own body she couldn’t have done
much, now she was at least free to snap at him and be taken seriously.
“I really wanted a goblin to take me to the vault!” she thundered, crossing her
arms on her chest. “You had no right to overrule my decision, Bill!”
To her utter dismay, he just laughed once more before gesturing for her to get
in the cart. “We only have one hour, right?” he reminded her.
“Half an hour!” she snapped.
“Right, right,” he chuckled, winking at her, “get in.”
She glared at him but grabbed his proffered hand. She felt unstable in her
mother’s heels, and probably they were not the best choice for a ride in a
cart.
“Wait,” called Uncle Bill as she finally managed to sit and smooth the dress
over her lap, “your mirror.”
She glanced at the pieces on the floor, swallowing. She couldn’t repair it; she
was underage, and if she did magic, the Trace would go off. She had to find an
excuse not to take out her wand. Maybe she could say that she had forgotten it
back at home. Was that a believable excuse? Probably not. “Well, you made me
break it,” she told him haughtily, “you should repair it.” She looked pointedly
at him, her lips pressing together in a thin, severe line.
Instead of apologising, Uncle Bill looked at her for a long moment, then winked
and drew out his wand. “Reparo,” he said, and before Lily could understand what
had happened, he had handed the pocket mirror to her and plopped on the seat
next to her.
“Let’s go, Vault 687, Bodrok,” he said to the goblin, “the lady is in a hurry.”
Lily glanced up at Uncle Bill as she put the mirror in her mother’s bag. She
wanted to tell him that if she was in a hurry it was because he couldn’t mind
his own business, but at that moment the cart jumped forward and sped down a
steep slope, and Lily had to find something to hold onto for dear life.
Uncle Bill laughed at her reaction, the low sound getting lost in the noises of
the cart on the railway. Then his arm slid behind her back and his hand settled
on her waist, pulling her tightly to him. Lily forgot that she was angry with
him as she grasped the front of his shirt tightly in her hands. He chuckled
again and spread his fingers on her side, brushing them against her curve of
her arse, almost grabbing it as he rubbed his thumb over her hipbone.
She bit her bottom lip, feeling oddly uncomfortable with his hand there. She
tried to move a little, but only succeeded in bumping her knees into his.
“Eager, aren’t you?” he whispered over her head.
She didn’t know what he meant. The only thing she was eager to do was get the
money out of there and go back home before the potion wore off. Then she would
write to Rose and tell her to book the B&B because she, Lily Luna Potter, had
the money they needed for the concert and the accommodation.
Again, she wondered if Uncle Bill would ask her what she needed the money for.
She had to find an excuse. Maybe she could say she needed it for Dad’s
birthday. It was going to be soon, anyway, a bit more than a month, yes… She
just hoped he didn’t ask her what she was planning on getting him, because she
had no clue.
She squirmed as a sharp turn pressed her against Uncle Bill.  He steadied her
with the hand on her waist, his long fingers now pressing tightly into her
lower abdomen.  Lily's muscles jolted slightly under the pressure. She tried to
move again, but he kept her safely under his arm.
When the cart came to a stomach-dropping stop, she was glad that his hand was
still there, though.
“Vault 687, the Potter family vault,” announced the goblin. A small flap door
opened on Lily’s side and only then did Uncle Bill’s hand free her from his
grasp.
She swallowed loudly and had to grab onto the edge of the cart to get off. She
regretted the heels now. Her mother never wore heels anyway; why couldn’t she
have gone with jeans and a pair of trainers? No, of course not, if she was
going to be a woman for an hour, she might as well do it right.
She let go of the cart and swayed slightly on her feet, but Uncle Bill steadied
her with a hand on the small of her back before she had to lean against the
cold rock wall.
“Key, Mrs Potter?” Uncle Bill murmured.
She nodded frantically. Key, the key, she had the key! She had taken it from
her father’s drawer before she left. She opened her bag and rummaged through
its contents until she closed her fingers around the small, gold key that had
been in her family for generations.
“Here,” she told him, handing it over.
“Thank you.” He let her go and walked over to the entrance of the vault,
finding the minuscule key hole as if he knew its location by heart and could
have found it without looking.
The heavy round door of the vault opened with a loud creak. Uncle Bill smiled
at her and stretched a hand in her direction to help her inside. She took it
without uttering a word and stepped over the small step that led into the
vault.
She had been there only once, when she was still a little girl without a wand,
and even though the place seemed rather smaller now, she didn’t find it changed
that much at all. There were tall mounds of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, as
well as tables, mirrors, old bed frames, chairs, and all those ugly pieces of
furniture that her parents had brought there from Grimmauld Place once they had
moved in and modernised the house for them and their children. They were really
ugly and Lily wondered if her father would have kept them if they hadn’t
belonged to his godfather in the past.
The door closed at her back, startling her from her reverie. She wondered how
long she had before she started to transform back; surely much more than she
needed to stuff fifty Galleons in the little purse Aunt Audrey had given her
for her birthday, the one with the Extendable Charm.
She made her way to a tall, dark table, with figures of suffering house elves
notched on the legs and more pieces of furniture hid by dark fabrics behind it.
Someone had piled heaps of Galleons between its legs, and she could have pushed
them into the purse in a matter of seconds. Instead, she grabbed two fistfuls
of coins and put them on the table where she could count them more comfortably.
“So,” said Uncle Bill somewhere at her back, “fifty Galleons out of the blue.
May I ask why you need all that money so suddenly?”
She shrugged a shoulder as she opened her purse and started to count the coins.
“Unexpected expenses,” she replied, without turning.
There was a soft laugh. “Are you planning on buying me a present?” he asked
her. His voice somehow had dropped to an amused murmur. “Is that why you didn’t
want me here?”
She stopped on the twelfth Galleon and stared at the table. That was not a bad
idea; she could have said that. Then she could have told her mother to buy
something for Uncle Bill as a present once she was back at home. She shrugged a
shoulder, still not looking behind her. “Yeah, I wanted to buy you a present,
Bill, but you kind of spoiled it,” she told him, satisfied for her annoyed
tone.
She went back to her Galleons. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen… maybe she could
take a fistful more and bring some kind of souvenir home for Uncle Bill. Or
maybe she could buy herself a nice top.
He chuckled, and the sound seemed much closer to her than it was before. “You
know what I want more than anything,” he murmured, his hot breath tickling her
neck.
Lily’s hands froze on the Galleons; she turned her face a fraction of an inch,
only to find Uncle Bill towering over her. He looked down at her, no grin on
his face now, only his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
She looked back at the table, her brow furrowed, and only then did she notice
his long fingers gripping the wood at either side of her body, caging her
against the piece of furniture.
She swallowed. He was breathing louder than usual near her ear. “Bill,” she
croaked out, “stand back, you’re… you’re distracting me.” She bit her bottom
lip. “I need to count the Galleons.”
He snorted in amusement, then lowered his head, and she could feel his locks
tickling her cheek as he planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of her
collarbone. “Yeah,” he murmured, “are you sure that’s what you need right now?”
He took a step forward, bumping against her arse and pushing her until the edge
of the table was digging into her lower abdomen. She grasped the table and
tried to push to get back, but froze again when something hard and long pressed
against her lower back.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice almost hysterical now.
“Nothing that you don’t want, baby,” he growled in her ear as his hand
abandoned the table and travelled up the front of her body.
She tried to squirm away but bumped against his erection once more as she
wriggled, causing him to push her a bit more roughly against the table. His
hand stopped only when it reached her breast. He cupped it in his palm and
squeezed until Lily felt something tighten in her belly. Then he wormed his
fingers into her décolleté and pulled the dress down over her shoulder. Lily
was petrified.
The moment his teeth and lips and tongue were on her skin she finally managed
to find the courage to react. “No!” she cried out. “What are you doing? Get off
me!” She grasped his hand with her own and brought the other to his stomach to
push him away, but he didn’t even budge. She had hoped her mother was stronger,
what with all that Quidditch she had done in her life, but Uncle Bill seemed
made of hard rock under her fingers.
“Get off!” she repeated, pushing a bit more insistently.
He growled in her ear and grasped her hand, twisting it against her back as if
she were a doll. “Hmm,” he breathed, “is this what you want to play at today?
You want me to rape you. I hope you know a good Concealing Charm this time, you
know Harry gets suspicious with all those bruises…” He trailed little kisses
and nips on her neck as his fingers dug into her breast.
Lily’s breath caught in her throat. She heard the words that her uncle was
saying, but she couldn’t understand their meaning. Had she Polyjuiced herself
into someone else? Was she not her mother? Was she not her uncle’s sister? Why
was he talking to her like that then? Why was he touching her like that? As if…
as if… No, that was ridiculous, and the fear that suddenly gripped her insides
was, too. “I… I don’t,” she stammered in a pathetic whisper. “I don’t want to
play.”
Instead of letting her go, he groaned as he sunk his teeth into her pulse
point. “You want to kill me today, Ginny,” he grunted. “I am going to fuck you
so hard you won’t be able to sit straight for a week.” He pushed his pelvis
against her back, circling his hips to let her feel his hard-on all over her
arse and lower back. “Shit, you make me so hard. Every. Fucking. Time.” He
punctuated every word with a thrust and Lily gasped as he drove her against the
edge of the table.
She tried to twist the arm he had secured on her back, but his fingers were
like a vice on her wrist, and they hurt. “No,” she whined, as she focused on
pushing his hand off her breast, “no, please. Let me go, I… I don’t… I’m not…”
As if he was finally listening to her, he released her arm and slid his fingers
off her breast, taking a step back. She gasped as she massaged her abused
flesh; big purple fingertips were blushing on her pale skin already.
She felt tears stinging her eyes. Maybe she had just imagined what had
happened? Maybe he knew she was not her mother and wanted to scare her. He had
succeeded big time if that was the case.
She was scared to turn and look at him; she was ashamed to have to meet his
eyes. She just wanted to get out of there now. Suddenly the Galleons were not
very important at all.
Suddenly, Lily heard him move and stiffened her back, ready to fend off another
assault to her hands or her breasts.
She didn’t expect his fingers to close around her throat.
They tightened until she gasped for air. Her own hands went to his, trying to
make him loosen his grip on her neck. He didn’t; instead he turned her around,
pushing the small of her back against the table now.
There wasn’t much left of blue in his eyes, except for a thin circle around his
blown-up pupils. He licked his lips another time, before finally loosening his
grip on her throat. She gasped again, taking a deep breath to fill her lungs
with air, her eyes wide as she stared up at him.
He took a step towards her as he slid his hand onto the nape of her neck,
cupping her flesh as his fingers enlaced in her hair. For a spare moment, she
thought he was going to say he was sorry, that he didn’t mean what he had said
and hadn’t intended to touch her like that. To which she would have nodded,
grabbed the Galleons, and hurried out of the vault. And she would have never
gotten that close to Uncle Bill ever again.
He didn’t. He didn’t say anything at all. He just lowered his head, until Lily
could feel his warm breath caress her forehead, her nose, her cheek, almost
obscenely. When he reached her mouth, her lips were trembling. She shook her
head only imperceptibly, keeping her eyes on his chest, too scared to raise
them to his face.
He opened his mouth and snapped his teeth together near her face; she let out a
scared whine, and he grunted a laugh in reply. She tried to move back from him,
but his hand on her neck kept her in place.
He parted his lips again, and then, suddenly, he was kissing her. Or trying to,
because Lily’s lips were tightly pressed together, her eyes scrunched up in a
disgusted grimace. Her hands found his chest and she pushed, slipping on her
heels as she tried to worm away, to push him off.
She didn’t succeed in doing anything except being pressed against the table
more forcefully than before. His hard cock was tenting his trousers, and even
if Lily wasn’t looking at it, she could feel it through the dress, shoving
insistently against her.
Uncle Bill licked at her lips, trying to get his tongue past them and into her
mouth, but she only pushed more forcefully on his chest, trying to shake her
head without managing to move at all.
“Open,” he growled against her lips.
“No,” she whinged, “no, please, no…”
He let out a feral grunt, and then he was attacking her mouth again, and then
he was biting her, sinking his teeth into her mother’s plump lips to make her
part them. She felt more tears forming at the corners of her eyes, but then her
teeth parted and he let her flesh go.
Then he was pushing his tongue into her mouth, moving it around and swiping it
all over her teeth and her own tongue, and Lily didn’t know if that was a
normal kiss or not. She had never been kissed. She had hoped it would happen at
the concert. Scorpius was going to be there, and on the Hogwarts Express he had
asked her if she wanted to hang out with him that weekend. She had said that
yes, she would love that, and the way he had looked at her made her hope that
something would have happened at Glastonbury.
Instead, it was her uncle kissing her, against a table, in her family vault,
and he thought he was kissing his sister.
Lily felt as if her head was about to explode.
She fisted Uncle Bill’s shirt and pushed on his chest again, but nothing
happened. Then something flashed in her mind: if he had bit her to make her
open her mouth, why couldn’t she bite him to make him stop?
She unclenched her fists and prepared to sink her teeth into his tongue. Maybe
he would strike her afterwards, but a slap was better than this. Before she
could act, though, he let her go and leant his forehead against hers, panting
all over her.
“Fuck,” he murmured, before giving her another little peck on her lips. He slid
both hands down, until he was cupping her arse and then the back of her thighs.
He hoisted her up as if she was weightless, and she had to grasp his shirt once
more to steady herself as her feet left the floor. He made her sit on the table
and reached behind her. She heard a rustling of fabric, but before she could
turn to see what he was doing, he grabbed her chin in his fingers. “You’re so
fucking beautiful, do you even know that?” he growled.
She tried to free herself, but his thumb was pressing against her chin.
“Please,” she begged in a breath.
“Do you know what I want to do to you?” he asked her, lowering his face to hers
once more. He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Do you know how many times I want
to take that pretty, little arse of yours?” he whispered against her skin.
Lily’s eyes opened wide, and one of the tears finally escaped her long lashes.
“No,” she whinged. “No, please, I don’t want to…”
He took a sharp breath, as if he was inhaling her scent, and licked the tear
away. “God, Ginny…”
He lowered his hands, tracing his long fingers on her gooseflesh-covered legs.
When he reached her knees he went back up. Up, up, until they disappeared under
the flowery dress and she could feel them at the hem of her lacy knickers.
“I’ll fuck you until you bleed…” he murmured, kissing all over her face, his
harsh words at odds with his gentle gestures.
“No!” she cried, her hands going to grab his wrists to make him stop kneading
her flesh. And then something dawned on her. Whatever Uncle Bill and his sister
did, he would not do it with his niece. No, she was only fifteen, and she
didn’t want him to do it to her. He wouldn’t rape her, no, no matter what he
had said. This was not a game. She looked up at him, eyes wide and teary and
she sobbed, “No, Uncle Bill, I’m not… I’m not Mum. I’m Lily, I’m… I’m not her…
I took some Polyjuice… I wanted the… the money for the concert… I’m sorry… I
shouldn’t have… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
Uncle Bill straightened his back and looked down at her; his dark eyes were two
slits as he stared at her scared face. Was he trying to decide if she was
lying? Was he trying to understand if she was playing?
She sobbed another time and whispered, “Please, Uncle Bill,” in the most heart-
breaking tone she could muster.
He stopped his hands on her knickers and gritted his teeth. “Fuck,” he growled,
but there was no anger in his voice. “Fuck,” he repeated after a moment. “I
thought you didn’t like this game, Ginny,” he murmured as he grasped her waist
under the dress and pulled her towards the edge of the table. “Last time you
said it was too much.” He used his hips to part her legs and settle between
them, pushing himself against her, moving her dress higher on her thighs.
Lily’s heart seemed to stop beating as the words sunk into her brain. She felt
something cold gripping her guts with an iron fist. Fear. Disgust.
Helplessness. What had she uncovered? What did Uncle Bill do when he was not
home telling Dominique that he didn’t want her to sleep in a tent? When he
wasn’t sitting on the beach and holding hands with Auntie Fleur? What did her
mother do when she wasn’t home? What games did they like to play?
She sobbed another time, her bottom lip trembling uncontrollably every time she
tried to talk now. “I-I’m not… I’m not Mum…” she sniffled. She let go of his
wrists and brought her hands to his chest once more, but once more her palms
encountered only hard, unmovable muscle.
“Yes,” he grunted, “you’re Lily. You’re my Lily.” He dug his calloused fingers
in her hips, until they felt uncomfortable. “Shit, shit, shit,” he chanted as
he got closer to her, “there are so many things I want to do to you. So many
things. I want to chain you in here and never let you leave. I want to spank
that pretty little arse of yours until it’s all glowing red. I want to have
your lips wrapped all over my cock…”
She felt as if his breath was scorching her face; his tongue darted out every
time he suggested something more depraved than before. She shook her head, too
scared for words, and sobbed again, but every time she did that, he seemed to
push between her legs more insistently.
“Yes,” he grunted, licking her cheek, “yes, I want your lips all over my cock.”
She didn’t think he would act that quickly; somehow, deep down, a part of her
was still hoping that he wouldn’t act at all on his threats.
But Uncle Bill couldn’t have been more serious.
He slipped his hands from under her dress and before she could even understand
what he was doing, he had one of them in her hair. He wound her locks tightly
around his fingers and looked down at her as he made her stare into his eyes.
“Down,” he growled, “down, down, down…” He grabbed her upper arm and made her
jump down from the high table onto her unstable feet.
She brought her hands to her scalp, letting out a cry that was half a sob as he
pushed her down to her knees in front of him.
“Take it out,” he barked breathlessly.
She shook her head frantically now, looking up at him with eyes filled with
tears. “No, please, no…” she snivelled, “please…”
“Take. It. Out.” He pulled her hair every time he grunted out a word, and all
she could do was let out a shaky sob before bringing her trembling hands to his
jeans.
She could barely see the belt buckle through her tears, but his fingers closed
more and more impatiently in her hair and she had to hastily wipe her eyes
before she could continue.
“Yes, good girl, good girl…” he growled over her. His cock was rock-hard, and
he thrust it insistently towards her every time her careless wrists bumped into
it, trying to add friction through the material.
“Take it out, baby girl,” he urged her in a dangerously low voice.
She bit her bottom lip to try to stifle her whimpering as she finally reached
the big brass button on top of his fly. She stopped, though, not caring if she
angered him, and looked up at him. “I… I’ve never… I’ve never…” she tried to
convey what she was sure he would never believe. “Please…”
He smirked at her. “You’ll do great,” he told her. “You always do,” he added in
a whisper.
She shook her head, but he pulled her hair once more and, with another sob, she
slipped the button through the hole and opened the fly of his jeans. His cock
was straining against his underwear and the moment her fingertips brushed
against its underside, his hips bucked forward.
“Come on, come on, come on…”
She tearfully hooked her fingers into the elastic band of his underwear and
tugged it down a little. She swallowed when his cock, hard and long and
slightly curved to the left, bobbed up in front of her eyes.
“Good, good.” He took a step forward and tilted her head back. “Take me in your
mouth,” he growled, “wrap your pretty lips around my cock. Now, baby girl…”
She shook her head again, trying to push him away. “No,” she sniffled.
“Yes,” he growled. He grasped his cock and pointed its bulbous head to her
lips. “Open,” he hissed. “Open wide.”
She tried to shake her head again, but he pulled her hair more forcefully and
all she could do was scrunch up her eyes as she parted her lips.
He was big and rough and he pushed forward single-mindedly, keeping her head
still with the hand in her hair until half of the shaft was between her lips.
She arched her back at the sudden intrusion, gagging as he moved her head back
and forth on his cock. He slowed down his movements and sighed, “Yes, oh fuck…”
with his eyes half-closed, before thrusting forward again.
She felt the hard and warm cock reaching the back of her throat with every
stroke; it was large, and she didn’t know what to do with it. However, she
didn’t have to do anything at all. He was guiding her up and down on it, and
all she could do was push against his stomach when she felt like she couldn't
breathe. She considered biting him, but then he would have probably hexed her
for good.
And, somehow, a part of her still didn’t want to bite Uncle Bill.
He grasped one of her hands and brought them to his groin. “Touch my balls,” he
hissed to her, as he pushed her fingers against them. “Slow and firm, slow and
firm.” He showed her how to do it with his own fingers enlaced in hers. “Fuck,
fuck, fuck…” He pushed more firmly into her mouth, and Lily could feel her
knuckles against her chin and his pubes tickling her nose as she took him
almost to the base. “Yes,” he hissed, “get it all nice and wet… for your cunt,
baby… and your tight little arse… all nice and wet for me…”
She tried to sob, but all that came out were slurping and choking sounds. There
was saliva dribbling down her chin, and now she could feel the salty taste of
pre-come in her throat; it made her nauseous.
His hips started thrusting more viciously, and suddenly Lily felt like she
couldn’t breathe at all. She closed her hand into a fist and bumped it against
his hip, but he just kept her against his groin until she was surely turning
all red and dark spots fluttered behind her drooping eyelids.
Then, as suddenly as he had started, he pulled her off his cock. She gasped and
took sharp breaths, tears falling from her eyes and spit falling from her chin.
But she didn’t have time to fill her lungs, for he immediately made her stand
and kissed her ferociously, swiping his tongue everywhere in her mouth, as if
he wanted to taste himself on hers.
“Fuck,” he murmured when he had had enough. He looked down at her terrified
face and his eyes seemed to darken with even more lust. He gathered all her
crimson hair in one hand and whirl her around. She gasped as he pushed her down
so she was bent over the table; her heels could barely reach the floor, barely
give her enough leverage not to hurt herself against the hard surface.
She screamed, her hands scrambling on the wood to try to push herself up, but
his big palm pressed the small of her back down, while his other hand lifted
the dress over her arse and kneaded her lace-covered buttocks.
“How much do you want this?” he growled, bending over to kiss her cheek.
She sobbed in reply and his hand came down hard on her round arse, making her
yelp and jolt forward, against the table.
“I bet you’re all wet, dirty little girl,” he whispered, slipping his hand
under her knickers. “Tell me how much you want this. Tell me you only want me…
call me Uncle Bill…” He slid his fingers between her arse cheeks. She held her
breath as he rubbed circles around her tight hole; she bit her bottom lip and
sobbed as he slid past it and descended and descended until she could feel him
tracing her lips.
He exhaled loudly in her ear and bit her lobe. “Call me Uncle Bill, I said,” he
growled. Two of his fingers pushed past her lips and she gasped out loud as
they entered her in one harsh thrust.
“No, no…” she sobbed. Her hands went to her back to fight him off, but he just
laughed dismissively at her attempted rebellion.
He slowly let her go, though; his hand slipped out of her knickers and the
other one stopped pressing her onto the table.
She didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. She knew he was waiting for her to fight
back. She could picture his amused face as she tried to stand up and run; she
knew he would just grab her again and haul her back onto the table. So she just
waited, eyes wide and heart thumping in her temples. Maybe if she didn’t rebel,
he would lose interest in her. She had to keep her tears and sobs at bay, for
they seemed to excite him.  
Suddenly his hand was in her hair once more. He yanked her up from the table
until her back was pressed tightly to his front, until his cock was pushing
insistently against her arse.
She took a sharp breath and stared in horror, finally understanding what the
rustling of fabric behind her had been.
A mirror.
A tall, dark framed mirror, with the Black family crest on top and vines on its
sides, stood in front of them.
She looked at her reflection. Lily was shaking, her head tilted back against
Uncle Bill’s shoulder; his free hand was worming its way down her stomach. She
was still in her mother’s body, but she almost couldn’t recognise her. Her hair
was a mess, her makeup was all smeared, her skin was flushed. Her eyes were
terrified beyond reason.
“Look at you,” murmured Uncle Bill in her ear, “fucking gorgeous.” He made her
turn her head and kissed her sloppily, licking her mouth as if he couldn’t get
enough of her taste. “Gorgeous,” he repeated. He brought his hand to her face
and grabbed her jaw with fingers that still smelled of her, turning her again
to face the mirror.
“Look at you,” he repeated. He let her face go and grabbed her dress, sliding
his fingers under the flimsy material. He looked into her eyes in the mirror
and stared smugly as her mother’s face scrunched up in terror when he tore the
fabric from her body.
She cried and wriggled, trying to grab the tatters to cover herself, but he was
strong and obsessively committed to get her naked.
“No,” she sniffled, “no, Uncle Bill!” He hurt her as he tore the dress from her
arms, twisting them to get the job done in the fastest way he could.
“Yes,” he growled, grounding his cock into her naked back. “Say that again.”
She was shaking as he slipped his hands under the straps of her bra and shoved
them down her arms. “Uncle Bill,” she breathed, “please…”
“Fuck,” he thrust his pelvis forward, until she could feel his pre-come
smearing on the small of her back. “I’ll give it to you good, baby, don’t
worry…” He didn’t look away from the mirror as he turned to kiss her cheek.
Her bottom lip was trembling when she glanced at him through her tears.
“Please,” she whispered again.
Uncle Bill’s eyes fluttered closed. “Yes,” he murmured.
Then his hands were between her shoulder blades, tearing the bra off of her,
throwing it on the floor; then she was being pushed down once more, hard and
fast, and all she could do was hide her face in her arms on the table as he
snapped the lace of her knickers under his callous fingertips.
He kicked her feet apart and positioned himself between her legs. “You’re so
wet,” he growled, pushing his fingers into her from behind without notice, “so
wet…” He pumped them in and out of her, until her back arched and she started
to feel a tightening in her stomach. She scrunched her eyes up, sobbing louder
than before.
Then his fingers were replaced by something bigger and harder and she gritted
her teeth as he pushed slowly inside of her.
She held her breath. It didn’t hurt. It was uncomfortable and the feeling was
foreign, but he was right: she was wet and he slid easily inside, no matter how
much she tried to clench her muscles to keep him out. It didn’t hurt, but this
was her mother’s body. How long had they been in the vault? How long before she
would go back to being herself? How long before her body shrunk to her own?
She didn’t know, and at that moment it felt as if it didn’t matter because all
she could feel was Uncle Bill’s balls pressing against the curve of her arse,
and then his hand pushing the back of her neck into the table, cutting off her
air.
Then he started to move, and he was brutal.
His free hand clawed at her hip and he exited her quickly before pushing back
inside with a vicious thrust.
She cried out, one of her high-heeled shoes falling to the floor. She tried to
grab the edge of the table to steady herself; the hard wood was chafing her
stomach and her nipples.
She was too scared and in pain to try to do anything but endure. His loosened
shirt was brushing lightly against her back, tickling her, and his open belt
was slapping her thighs sorely. She felt as if his fingers were surely bruising
her skin.
He was grunting over her, calling her names, asking her to call him Uncle Bill
over and over again. Asking her to moan for him.
She couldn’t have done that even if she had wanted to because his fingers were
tightening on her neck and pushing her hard on the table, but he seemed to be
pleased enough with her sobs and gasps for air.
Suddenly his hand left her hip, his thrusts slowed down, and Lily hoped that he
was coming. Was he going to come inside her? Was her mother on a potion? Lily
wasn’t. She stiffened at the thought.
And then he stopped completely. There was no grunt or cry of completion from
him, and she couldn’t feel anything inside. Had he finished? Was that it? Had
he really come inside her?
She moved a little to raise her chafed skin from the table, when he spat
loudly, and she felt a wet splotch hitting her skin right above the cleft of
her arse. He smeared the blob of saliva between her cheeks until his finger
found her puckered hole; she squirmed as he pressed against it.
“No!” She threw her head back and found her mother’s face staring back at her
with wild eyes. She was pale and her crimson locks were plastered to her sweaty
face.
“Yes,” he hissed, pushing his forefinger past her ring of muscles.
She tried to worm away, but her feet slid on the smooth floor. She tried to
wriggle free of his clutch, but he squeezed harder on her neck. She raised her
eyes on him; he was flushed and sweaty, and he was looking down at her with a
focused expression, biting his lips and squinting his eyes as if deep in
concentration.
He spat on her again and she let out a whine when he pushed a second finger
into her. Scissoring them, preparing her.
“You’re always so tight,” he grunted, “always, shit, Ginny…”
He didn’t look at her when he withdrew his fingers, nor did he raise his eyes
when he slid his hand from her neck down her spine until he was pushing her
cheeks apart, opening her up for him.
She felt him slide out of her cunt slowly and wetly, and then he was at her
other hole, even when she was nowhere near ready for his girth.
“No,” she snivelled, “no, please… no Uncle Bill…” She grasped the table,
propping herself up on her elbows as she arched her back. “Uncle Bill,” she
whispered, staring at him in the mirror, too afraid to move a muscle.
He didn’t hear her, didn’t even notice she was crying again. He stared down at
her, probably at her arse, probably at the place where he was pushing against
her.
She could feel him digging caverns on her mother’s round buttocks. He was
hurting her.
He spat again, but she didn’t feel the saliva falling on her skin this time.
Instead there was a soft rubbing, and then he was finally pushing inside of
her.
He felt huge in there. Bigger than he had felt in her mouth and in her cunt. He
was going slower too, but he never stopped.
Lily hissed in pain, her eyes scrunched up so she didn't have to look at his
entranced face staring down at the lewd show in front of him. She gritted her
teeth as he impaled her and seemed to tear her flesh apart; the pain that shot
from down there to the small of her back was making her feel as if she was
being speared.
Then he gave a little push, probably to sheathe himself completely inside of
her. Lily didn’t even notice that the loud cry of anguish and pain had come
from her throat.
She lowered her head to the table and sobbed. He had stopped moving, and she
could feel his groin resting on her arse, his jeans chafing the back of her
thighs, and his stomach moving with his ragged breath.
There was another rustling of fabric, and when he bent over her, she could feel
his naked chest pressing against her back. He brushed the locks from her face
and kissed her sloppily. “You almost feel tighter than usual,” he whispered
raggedly, “or maybe I didn’t prepare you properly…” He chuckled at that, but
Lily didn’t even open her eyes to acknowledge him.
She had stopped crying. She had stopped everything except breathing and
sweating and feeling pain. And now that Uncle Bill was pushing her against the
table, she wasn’t sure she would be able to breathe for much longer.
Then he straightened again, planting each foot firmly on the floor outside
hers. She heard him kicking away her discarded shoe as he grabbed her waist and
one of her shoulders with his hands.
She swallowed when he started to pull out. He was grunting and cursing under
his breath, as if he needed great exertion to free himself from her tight
confinement.
“Don’t clench, shit,” he murmured, before adding in a softer tone, “Not yet,
baby…”
She sobbed again, but now into her arm; she felt a tear tracing down and around
her elbow before pouring onto the table. She tried to relax to ease the pain,
but all her mother’s body wanted to do was to push him off her.
And for a moment he was off her — a moment too brief, though — because soon he
was pushing back in, cursing all the way once more and not stopping until he
was balls deep. And not stopping even then. He didn’t start slow, he didn’t
start gently. As soon as he had the room to move, as soon as he was sure he
wasn’t hurting himself, he started to thrust into her as if his life depended
on it.
He dug his fingers in the space above her collarbone and she hissed in even
more pain, but it was nothing compared to the sting of his cock in her arse.
She felt as if he was trying to reach some place inside of her that only he
knew about, and when he pulled out, he seemed to want to drag everything out of
her.
He growled as he set a punishing pace. The slap of his hips against her arse
filled the vault, and the smack of the belt buckle against her thighs was
agony; but these were nothing compared to the rough edge of the table pressed
insistently into her cunt.
When he slowed down, she hoped that he was coming, that he would bring that to
an end, but then he slid his hand past the curve of her hip and flattened it
over her stomach. His other hand grasped her arm, and when Lily opened her
eyes, she was being pulled back and up from the table.
It was a relief from the hard surface digging into her breasts and her stomach,
but gravity helped the new angle to impale her even more mercilessly on Uncle
Bill’s cock. She whimpered and sobbed, turning her head away from the mirror.
He pulled her back until her shoulder blades were pressing into his chest,
never stopping the thrusts of his hips, never stopping his assault. She felt
his hairy arms move around her like a thick vines clutching a tree; he closed a
hand over her breast and slid his arm around her neck until it fit into the
bend of his elbow. Then he squeezed.
“Look at you,” he growled in her ear, picking up speed again. “Fuck, you’re
gorgeous.” He tightened his fingers on her breast and repeated, “Look at you.”
Lily opened her eyes to stare at the mirror. Her mother’s face was now flushed,
her eyes were shiny with tears, her lips were parted because of her constricted
breathing. She had to bring both her hands to his arm to try to loosen his grip
around her neck, but he didn’t budge. Her body was dwarfed by Uncle Bill
pressed at her back, and the breast that he was squeezing was all purple under
his fingers. She was sweating, and so was he.
The grunts that he breathed all over her cheek didn’t feel human, nor was his
stare. He was looking at her in the mirror, his lust-filled eyes on hers, never
leaving them. Every time her eyelids drooped, he would drive into her faster;
every time she would whimper, he would growl in delight; every time a tear fell
on his arm, he would kiss her cheek.
When he started a litany of curses, he shoved into her so violently that she
was lifted from the floor. Then his lips parted, his limbs tightened around
her, and he let out a shout that deafened her.
There was something warm filling her then, and the jerks of his pelvis became
less rough, more sporadic, until he almost stopped completely, his cock slowly
softening up inside of her. For a moment the pain dulled, and all she could
hear was their hard breathing and her own heartbeat.
However, the moment didn’t last long; soon she felt like he was growing again,
filling her up once more. Only he wasn’t. She was shrinking. Uncle Bill’s arm
almost choked her as she stood on tiptoes. Her breast became smaller in his
hand, her hair lengthened down past her shoulders, and she tightened up
painfully around his cock.
When she looked at the mirror next, it was her own face staring back at her.
And she was a pitiful sight: covered in bruises and handprints, eyes filled
with fear and shame, lips white and freckles hid by her blush.
She looked at Uncle Bill in the mirror and let out a sob.
He didn’t move. He was looking right back at her, but his eyes were wide now,
his mouth too, and she didn’t know if it was because he was still trying to
catch his breath or because he was in shock. He wasn’t squeezing her anymore;
his arms around her seemed to want to comfort her now, all their dominating
force was gone. His breath was still ragged; she could tell by the way his
stomach raised and lowered against her back and by the warm air that was
tickling her face.
He tried to close his mouth, probably wanting to say something, but had to open
it again to take a deep breath.
Finally, he spoke. “Fuck,” he whispered, and she could feel the surprise and
slight fear in his tone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he chanted that word in her ear,
then his arms unwound from her body and his hands closed over her waist, his
fingertips touching on her navel. He pulled a bit back from her and she
sniffled at the pain.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he sounded contrite. “I’m sorry, Lily, fuck…” He
kissed her head like he used to do when he saw her at the Burrow and pulled a
bit more.
She hissed in pain and grabbed his wrists, arching her back a little to try to
find a less painful position.
“Almost there,” he murmured, kissing her again, “almost, I swear, I’m so sorry,
Lily…”
He finally popped out with a lewd sound and she cried out loudly, pushing her
fingers into his arms as she did. She let him go when she felt something warm
oozing out of her arse. She felt used. She felt dirty.
He swallowed behind her, then set his hand tentatively on her shoulder, only a
feathering touch where he had bruised her. She didn’t shy away as he had
probably expected her to do. She just hid her face in her hands, too ashamed to
look at him, and hunched her shoulders, crying loudly.
“Oh shit,” whispered Uncle Bill worriedly. The hand on her shoulder turned her
around, until she was facing him. He closed his arms around her pushing her
against his chest as she cried and sobbed behind her palms.
She was too weak and scared to push him away. All she could do with her
remaining strength was try to keep herself from falling. But she suspected that
Uncle Bill would have kept her upright if she let herself collapse.
His big hands, the same ones that had pushed her down and pulled her hair,
caressed her head and her back tenderly now. He moved his thumb over her spine,
soothing delicately where he had bruised her before.
She didn’t want to look up at him. She didn’t want to move her hands from her
face ever again.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Lily, I thought you were your
mother… I… oh shit, shit…” His voice trailed away, but his hands didn’t stop
their movements. Lily didn’t reply.
He leant his cheek on top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “fuck, I… I
don’t know what to say…”
He let her cry against his chest for what seemed like hours. She wanted to
scream at him, she wanted to call him names, she wanted to punch him as hard as
she could on his chest. But she couldn’t find the strength to do anything but
cry.
He squeezed her tightly, kissed her again over her hair and, finally, his arms
slid from around her body.
“Lily,” he murmured, “Lily, look at me.”
She didn’t. She kept her hands over her face, wanting, more than anything, to
curl up on the floor and sob until she was all cried out.
“Lily,” he repeated, “please, we need to talk about it.”
No, they didn’t. She had nothing to say to him and didn’t want to listen to
anything he was going to say.
His hands curled around her forearms, and she stiffened when he pushed them
down. “No!” she cried. “I don’t want to!”
“Lily,” he murmured, but his tone was already less gentle than before. “Look at
me.”
Her bottom lip was trembling as he cupped her cheeks and made her raise her
head until she was forced to look into his concerned eyes. Fresh tears obscured
her sight, and his thumbs brushed them away as quickly as she shed them.
“Lily,” he repeated, “I’m so fucking sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I… your
mother and I…” He didn’t seem able to find anything to say that would have made
things better, because his voice trailed away and he sighed. “I love your
mother very much,” he finally told her. He stared at her, his bottom lip
worried between his teeth. He looked at her almost apologetically when he
confessed, “And I love you too, very much.”
“I don’t want you to love me,” sobbed Lily. She tried to jerk her head free of
his hands, but he didn’t let her.
“But I do,” he told her soothingly, “so much…” He lowered his head and planted
a kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes for a moment, cringing when his
lips touched her skin. “So much,” he continued, kissing her nose. “So fucking
much…” He kissed her cheek, and her jaw. “I love you…” When he pressed his lips
to hers, she felt a wave of nausea surging from the bottom of her stomach. She
stiffened her muscles and tried to push his hands away as she took a step back.
Uncle Bill didn’t try to push his tongue into her mouth this time, but he kept
his lips against hers until he had to come up for air.
“No,” she sobbed when he let her lips go, “no, no, no… let me go… don’t… don’t
touch me…” She tried to push him away, she tried to kick him, but if her
mother’s stronger body hadn’t managed to do much against him, she stood even
less chance.
He pushed her back, back, back, until she bumped into the table, and only then
did he let her face go. His hands slid all over her minute body, descending
over her pointy breasts and sharp hips, until he was grabbing her and hoisting
her onto the table once more. Her fingers closed on his wrists, but she was far
from hindering his movements.
“No!” She tried to push at him again. She had lost the other shoe when she had
changed back to herself, and now her naked feet on his thighs were trying to
keep him at a distance.
He grabbed her ankles and stepped forward, and Lily was horrified to see that
he was hard again. His eyes hooded with lust once more as he placed her legs
around his waist.
“No,” she murmured, fresh tears in her eyes as he bent over her and pinned her
hands down at each side of her head.
“I love you,” he told her again, his voice desperate, “when you come to Shell
Cottage to sleep over with the girls, I walk into Dominique’s room at night and
jerk off while I watch you sleep.”
Lily’s heart started to pound in her chest almost painfully at his admission,
her eyes widening as a new wave of fear invaded her. She tried to wriggle, but
he was standing over her now, his face only inches from hers as he continued,
“When I walked in on you in the shower last time, it wasn’t by mistake. I’d
waited for you all day to come back from the beach with the girls.”
She shook her head, her back lifting off the table to try to move out from
under him.
“I love you, Lily,” he told her again. He moved her arms up over her head and
grasped both wrists in one hand; the other one skimmed gently over her small
breast, down her ribcage, and past her hip.
Then it left her body and disappeared between them. He arched his back a little
and looked down between her legs.
Lily let out a gasp as something started to probe her lips. “No,” she cried,
“no, I’ve never done it, I’ve never done it, Uncle Bill! Please, don’t!”
He didn’t seem to hear her; he constricted her wrists in his hand and pushed
forward with single-mindedness.
He felt so much bigger now, so much harder, so much longer. He pushed and
pushed until something tore and an acute pain spread like a dagger in her lower
abdomen.
She cried and sobbed as he pushed all the way into her. Then he finally closed
his eyes and a blissful expression painted his features, as if he was exactly
where he was supposed to be.
When he opened his eyes again, he looked down at her with a soft smile. “I’ve
wanted you for so long, Lily,” he told her gently, grasping her hip. “You are
so gorgeous. And now you’re all mine, aren’t you? All mine…”
He didn’t wait for her reply as he started to thrust in and out of her. Her
body was much tighter than her mother’s, and his grunts and curses started to
unroll on his tongue earlier than before. He kept his eyes on her the whole
time; even when she closed her own or when the tears blurred her sight, she
knew that he was watching her.
She moaned in pain, but she didn’t know if he understood that he was hurting
her again, or if he thought that she was groaning with arousal instead.
He sped up as suddenly as he had pushed into her. He towered over her, pressing
open-mouthed kisses all over her lips, and then his thumb was between her legs,
drawing frantic circles on her clit.
“Come for me, Lily,” he breathed against her cheek, “you’re so tight, you’re
going to be even tighter. Come around me.”
He pressed down and she keened at the pain-pleasure that shot through her. She
felt something rise in the pit of her stomach, and it didn’t matter how hard
she tried to push it back, to not give him the satisfaction of becoming an even
tighter fit around him, to not let him think that he had made her come.
She felt a breath-taking tingle deep inside her guts, and it rose and rose,
until it became like a flame lapping at every nerve-ending of her body. Then
she gasped and felt her muscles convulse in pleasure as a pleasant buzz filled
her ears.
“Shit!” growled Uncle Bill in her ear, then he was kissing her again and
spilling inside of her and, finally, he limply fell over her little body.
He pinned her down with his weight for a long time, until his flaccid cock slid
out of her and he tired of kissing her lips. Then and only then did he release
her wrists and push himself off her body.
He stood up, and Lily just looked at him as he fastened his jeans over his
hips. She couldn’t move a muscle. She could feel his come pooling on the table
between her legs, her blood, too, probably, and she didn’t even try to close
her thighs. She didn’t cover up or try to get off the table, what for? She
couldn’t do anything that he didn’t want her to do. The moment she tried to
stand up he would probably push her back down. Just for fun. Just for his fun. 
He looked down at her and smiled reassuringly as he grasped her upper arm and
brought her to a sitting position. He sat next to her and hugged her again,
until he squeezed her arms between them. “You’re not going to tell anybody
about this, are you, Lily?” he asked softly, caressing her hair once again.
“Because if you do, I’d have to tell them about the Polyjuice Potion and you
wanting to steal the money…” His voice was shaky, as if he didn’t trust that
she would believe him. As if he knew that if she was to tell her story and he
was to tell his, the one to end up in Azkaban would be him. “You know what
would happen if anyone finds out about us... about me and your mother, right?
Your mother would be devastated,” he whispered against her head, “and… and
you’re mine, Lily, all mine now… right? Maybe… fuck… you’re so gorgeous, I… I
want to… maybe we could do this again…”
She didn’t reply, she didn’t even move. She was shaking.
“Come on,” he whispered, “let me… let me dress you…” He helped her up; he had
to hold her for now she really wanted to collapse on the floor and maybe hit
her head against the table and forget everything.
He mended her dress and her underwear, and he dressed her. And she let him, too
scared to fight him and maybe have him push her back on the table once more.
Her mother’s clothes were ridiculously baggy around her petite body now.
He knelt in front of her as he helped her with the shoes. Then he stood up,
cupped her cheeks, and made her look at him. “Not gonna tell anybody about
this, right Lily?” he whispered once more, a hopeful smile on his lips.
She lowered her eyes, but didn’t reply. She should have. She should have run to
her father the moment she set foot out of there.
“No, no, you’re not going to do it,” he told her gently, “you’re a good girl.
You don’t go around telling secrets like this one.” He sighed. “And nobody
would believe you anyway, right Lily?” He lowered his head to kiss her again.
She didn’t move. “Especially not Grandma Molly…” he breathed against her lips.
He kissed her nose. “You should come to Shell Cottage next weekend,” he told
her thoughtfully, “the girls are always happy to see you and… and I can show
you a nice place down the beach… there’s a secluded little cave… sometimes I
meet your mum there…” He kissed her again a bit more forcefully now. “You have
to come, right?” he breathed anxiously. “People would get suspicious if you
stopped coming… you don’t… you don’t want me to tell them what you did…”
She shook her head, confused. He should tell them what she had done, so she
could tell them what he had done too. But she wasn’t sure she wanted them to
know. He was right, they would never believe her after all… her mother and
Uncle Bill… everybody loved Uncle Bill… and her mother too…
He looked at her with his big, blue eyes, a slight smile stretching his lips as
he tugged some locks away from her face. “You’re so gorgeous,” he sighed again.
“When you were born you looked so much like your mother… so much like a Weasley
that… for a moment… I prayed you were mine and not Harry’s… my Lily… all mine…”
He bit his bottom lip. “Maybe you are mine,” he whispered hopefully, “we’ve
never checked after all.”
Lily looked at him in horror, terrified at the idea of not being her daddy’s.
No, no. She was! She had to be. She was not… she was not the product of incest.
Suddenly she placed a hand on her stomach. She was not on a potion. If she
delivered his baby, would people believe her then? Maybe Rose. Maybe her daddy.
She felt an almost ferocious pleasure at that thought; she hoped he had gotten
her pregnant.
“Lily,” he snapped her out of her reverie, “you’ll come to Shell Cottage…”
She looked at him for a spare second before lowering her eyes again. She didn’t
reply.
“Good,” he sighed, “good girl.” He kissed her again. “Take… take the money, why
don’t you? It’ll be our secret… I want you to have a good time at the concert…”
He smiled and added, “Don’t let that Malfoy boy get too close to you, though,
you’re all mine now, remember? Like your mum…”
Her heart skipped a beat. Scorpius was light years away from her thoughts, and
he would never want her anyway now. She raised her eyes to Uncle Bill; they
were probably as empty as she felt inside. She just wanted to get out of there.
She opened her mouth to plead with him to let her go, but he beat her to it.
“Mine,” he growled as he lowered his head to kiss her to silence. “You’re all
mine.”
                                      FIN
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