u/GlazeTheVoidNietzche

Allan was pondering in front of the door, having second thoughts. The green light blinking above it indicated that his partner has already entered.

"The Dark room... This was not one of my brightest ideas" he thought, gulping. Having good manners, his inner voice told him that it would be impolite for the other person to wait. So he pressed that door handle and entered. The door closed on its own and he heard a clear knock of the locking mechanism.

"Guess that only leaves forward now" escaped his lips and he started walking through the short corridor.

The purple lights were going dimmer, until they disappeared completely. Entering the room, he noticed that all the light came from the big windows, spanning from floor to ceiling. But even that was faint, only silhouettes were visible. And somewhere in the dark, steps moved, until a silhouette of a woman stood in front of him. Tall. Her perfume, a powdery note. A dress and long hair, that was all he could make out of it. Good thing he suited up.

They stood there in silence for few seconds, until a smile, albeit invisible, escaped both of them.

"Sorry, first time doing something like this" he said, cleaning his throat, trying to make his voice sound deep while reaching out with his hand.

"No worries, it is my first time too" she answered, with a mellow clear voice. Her fingers met his and they intertwined weirdly, until they managed to press the palms to each other for a proper handshake. His hand vas big and somewhat muscular, but coarse. Hers was delicate and soft. Lips were being bit, but that was hidden from the eyes in this room of darkness.

A feeling of shame came to take over him, she must have been in her twenties. He was about to ask her if she was certain about this, but then he remembered the questionnaire. There were one hundred and seventy something specific questions in it. He remembered answering the one with the age range, twenty six as the lowest acceptable was his answer. At that time, he thought no one that age would actually put his, as acceptable. He also remembered all the other answers, the preferences.

"It's a bit awkward, isn't it?" he asked, trying to break in the silence.

"It is. But it was to be expected... With two people not knowing each other, going for something so... Intimate" she answered, trying to hide her nervous voice with a smile in the end. Her head was tilting as she spoke.

A flash of sudden inspiration came to him and quite casually he muttered without thinking "I have an idea".

If her face were visible, one could notice her eyebrows rising. She quickly realized that it wasn't, hence she replied "O-kay?" with somewhat playful voice.

"Come closer. Just trust me, I won't do anything silly" he said, prepping his hands, as for a hug. When she did come closer, carefully placing his hands on her elbows, he than slid over them, searching for her palms. She understood fast what the idea was, they were about to dance slowly. Swinging the hips gently left and right, with few steps back and forth seamed to lighten the mood.

"Not so bad now is it!" he said with a deep voice, without trying.

Her reply was a short and playful "M-hmm..."

Another flash of inspiration came upon him and leading the way, he helped her do a pirouette and pulled her back. But when she returned, she must have made few steps more. Because instead of being face to face, she ended up back against his chest, holding her hand still slightly up and above her head.

He felt her. Her warmth. Her perfume. Her breathing. She leaned her head against his cheek. Pushing her back dangerously against him. It was not a coincidence. His fingers releasing hers, his hand started to slide down hers. Down her forearm, down the elbows to gently slide over her armpit. A gasp of air escaped her. Goosebumps rose all over his skin. His fingers slid further down, to feel her ribcage. Her stomach.

She was a slender woman, with smaller breasts and not so wide hips. Yet she moved so gently, twisted so elegantly while his palms were gliding over her, she was making his heart want to jump out of his chest. It was beating hard against her back and it apparently ignited a spark in her. The awkward silence and shame from the beginning was no more. She moved her back in a slow, dry lovers dance twisting it, while rubbing herself against him. She felt him with her glutes. And wanted take the imprint.

"Come with me" he said in a whisper.

"Yes" she answered whispering.

"I need to feel you" he added, exhaling down her neck while taking in her soft skin.

"M-hmm..."

He sat himself on the sofa. She followed quickly, siting over his lap in a cowgirl like manner. The treads of her dress fell over her shoulders, letting the dress slide a bit, revealing her. She hug him, going with her fingers through his long hair, pulling his head against her. She was swinging up and down, inhaling and exhaling, feeling his lips over her peaks. He'd bit them gently, then sooth them with kisses. And occasionally, she would hug him so tightly and press his face against her skin, as if to feel his chin and beard comb her very soul. In those moments, her breathing shivered so melodically that it made him imprint his palms on her back, while sliding up and down over them. He adored every bit of her skin while her hearth was rushing the beat beneath it.

He reached out with his hand for her chin, pulling her to him. Her lips were small but plump. He sucked on her bottom lip with his lips, occasionally carefully grinding it with teeth. She'd bit him after that. She kissed shy at first. But fiercely, as the kiss progressed. He loved that softness. And the hunger that would follow. They'd repeat the cycle, over and over again, exploring each other with hands. He held her ass and the stronger his grip was, the harder she'd grind with her nails over his shoulders.

And every time he'd go further with his hands, she'd breathe deeper. But still, she held her voice. His hands found the way under the dress, beneath the underwear. Like snakes, they slid indecently over her ass cheeks, further and further. Until one of them reversed and found the wet softness in front and slid over it. A match lit, her voice escaped her in the first and sweet deep moan, as the finger gently drew sparks over her core.

The year is 1900, January. The Burke family has always been drawn to the dark side of the magic. You, Victoria Burke were no different. Not that you had much choice anyway. You were witty, but not specially talented at spells. The dark side of the wizarding world was unkind to women participating in it. You learned that early on. So you mastered few spells, but dangerous ones. After finishing your Hogwarts education, there was never going to be any prospect for you at the ministry, not with your family's reputation. Naturally, you looked for the alternatives. The Ashwinders proved to be a gold mine. You joined them, slowly going up the ranks from scout to duelist to soldier, to ranger... By the time you were twenty six years old, you were a perfect duelist. Even assassin rank didn't look impossible. Until a minor family setback happened and your father landed time in Azkaban. As the only child in the family, you needed to step up and take his place along Borign.

That disgusting slimy fifty years old man. He did try to make his move on you. Nasty looks at you, occasional filthy comments, slightly increasing the pressure. Until he explicitly tried to take you. That's when he learned the pain you are capable to inflict. That brought him back in his line, held him in check. After that, he never dared as much as look at you.

The days went by and occasionally you'd be at the shop. Borign dared not complain. At nights though, you'd be on missions across the country, stealing beasts, doing transactions. Ravaging homes of enemy targets. Not even the Ministry could do anything to stop you guys. The Ashwinders were at the top of their power. Everything was running perfect. Until that fateful night happened.

You, as a part of a group, ravaged a store in Hogsmeade named Rowell's and Black's, by the order of you boss Theophilus Harlow. The owner of the shop refused to pay an extortion fee, so he had to be taught a lesson. It was a weird kind of a shop. It had various potions, clothes, brooms... As if it were a jack of all trades shop. None of it was especially good but you looted itall. The owner wasn't there, but his elf was. It was a rather brave one, stubbornly refusing to let you guys destroy the property and take the goods, as if it were his own. So your leader, Dunstan Trinity, performed a killing curse. You took all the goods and a small chest full of galeons, found in the back room. Being the begining of the year, it was the best steal so far. Or so you thought.

A week later, while you were in the Ashwinders hideout, a man appeared, masked as if he was an Ashwinder himself. Dark blue coat, black mask gilded with thin gold lines, silver gloves... He was asking for Harlow. None of your traps signaled, none of you heard him. Dumbstruck, some men of your group started mocking him. After all, away in the woods, coming to you to threaten you was certainly unwise. Or so you thought.

Spells would bounce away from him, as if repelled by an invisible force. Or would hit him and do nothing. Meanwhile, his spells would hit everyone. And one by one, disapparating and apparating again, he was taking people down, destroying you as a group breakin it piece by piece. You tried to so well known Cruciatus curse on him, but before you knew it, it somehow connected with his own spell, returning to you. You felt it in your fingernails, as if it was ripping them from your skin. You never mastered apparating. Drowning in sweat, every cell in your body screamming in pain, in an desperate effort you turned into your animagus wolf form to try to run away from him. But seconds later, he transfigured you back. An invisible rope tied to your ankle pulled you, dragging you over the moisty midnight grass. His foot turned you on your back as if you were a sack of gobstones, his hand reaching, to unmask you. Seeing your face, something made him halt.

In terror, you turned your head to observe how every member of your group was hanging mid air, unconscious. His wand was removed from your face and he started walking away.

"The Aurors will be here soon, you might want to run away now. We shall meet again, wolf girl", were his words before he disapparated.

You didn't leave your room for days. In the Daily Prophet, you read that Aurors in deed did come to your hideout. "The bust of the century!", was a snarky attempt on a title. Further in the text, it was revealed that almost nothing came out of it, no beasts were found, no stolen goods. Just a shady group of beaten up men. None would talk. None of the group contacted you. But the good news was, no one from the Aurors came for you nether. Eventually, you decided to visit your shop.

Borign greeted you with a nod upon your arrival, almost with a dose of courtesy. Not being much of a speaker, he then quickly disappeared somewhere in the storage room. You were checking the the wares, and the money, no new customers visited aparantely. Then, as if to contradict you on purpose, a customer did walk in. A tall gentlemen in his mid forties, elegant. So much unlike the people that usually visit.

"Hello, Wolf girl", he said in a wolf like voice, locking the front door with his wand and then seating himself in an uncomfortable chair near the window close to the entrance, crossing his legs.

"I suppose, a beverage would be appropriate, but being here... Not sure I'd like the taste of it. Come, indlulge me. Please. Don't worry about Borign, he won't disturb us" he said in a calm and deep voice, pointing with his hand to the spare chair across the room.

"You know", he started the conversation, absentmindedly looking out of the window. "I was rather fond of that elf."

I envisioned this story with two gray characters, both originating from an opposing starting point. Your main character obviously starts as an antagonist, but as we see the protagonist isn't quite what he seems. The goal of the story is enemies to friends route, as we start working together, connecting, and taking down enemies. I'm not interested in exploring the castle but rather the world outside it. It is a fan fic story, yes. But we can use the existing world and its rules to be creative and move our OC characters. I have a rough timeline in mind, but them details, I'd like for us to craft them together, or to improvise through them.