Chapter Text
“I’ll be straight with you, Harry,” Tonks said, leaning back in her chair and propping her feet up on top of her desk. “The assignment I’ve got for you isn’t anything you’ve been trained for. It’s pretty out there, honestly.”
“How out there?” Harry asked.
“Out there,” Tonks said, emphasizing her words and spreading her arms wide for a visual representation. Though his former senior auror partner had recently been named the head of the department, she had not suddenly started acting all serious and dignified after her promotion. Harry was relieved by that. Frankly, he didn't know what the hell he would have done if Tonks had gotten all formal on him, even if she was actually his boss now. "I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that some of those stuffy Sacred Twenty-Eight blokes aren’t too happy about some of the changes that have come to their world in the last few years.”
“Hadn’t noticed,” Harry said dryly, making Tonks snort. Anyone who was paying attention knew that some of the oldest pureblood families were resistant to many of the things that the administration led by Kingsley Shacklebolt had worked to implement in the aftermath of the war. Public sentiment was not on their side, so they had to be cautious and subtle in how they went about opposing and resisting the rapid changes being made that lessened their power and influence in magical society. But their resistance did continue, and Harry saw no reason to think that they would give up any time soon. The families who had been most fervent in their support of Voldemort had basically no influence left to wield, but the traditionalist families who remained were probably going to continue to be an annoyance for years to come.
“Anyway, that lot is doing everything they can to interfere with the progress we’re making, and they’re prepared to play the long game,” Tonks said. “They’ll continue this fight for generations, if need be, looking for any opening they can to roll things back and claw back whatever power they can, and being an annoyance in general.”
“Yeah, I get all that,” Harry said. “Not really sure where I come in, though. What assignment could I possibly take that could help us deal with the Sacred Twenty-Eight’s political games?”
“Like I said, even though they’re doing what they can to be a problem for us now, the smartest of them realize that the public isn’t on their side right now,” Tonks said. “We can tell that they’re shifting their focus to a longer-term strategy, one that they might not be able to pull off effectively until future generations are in power. That means marriage and kids, of course. And you know how particular those families are about choosing their marriage partners.”
“Right,” Harry said. “Gotta have the right bloodlines, of course.” He rolled his eyes, thinking about the Sacred Twenty-Eight members of his generation. Some of them were smart and capable, admittedly, but it was ridiculous that they acted like bloodline was so important in what truly made a wizard great when Hermione had outscored them all at Hogwarts and was rising through the ranks of the Ministry faster than anyone from their generation.
“There’s that, yes,” Tonks said. “That narrows the pool they have to choose from. But there’s another major requirement for most of those Sacred Twenty-Eight families and the arranged betrothals they love so much. Most of those contracts require the witch to be a virgin until the wedding. That’s where you come in.”
“Let me get this straight,” Harry said, leaning forward in his chair on the other side of Tonks’ desk. There was really only one direction that this could be going in, but he wanted to make sure he understood what Tonks was asking of him. “My ‘assignment’ is taking the virginities of witches from the Sacred Twenty-Eight families to wreck the possibility of them being married off to form alliances?”
“Nailed it, mate!” Tonks laughed. “It’s no secret what a popular bloke you are these days, and not just because you ended the war. And you’ve enjoyed all the attention, haven’t you? Every week, it seems like you’re photographed with a different beautiful woman on your arm.”
“I think that’s an exaggeration,” he said.
“Think so?" Tonks raised her eyebrows and made them twice as long and thick for good measure. "Who was that black-haired girl with the big blue eyes and the even bigger tits I saw you with at that Ministry party last month?"
“That was Victoria,” Harry said. He smiled, remembering the very pleasant night he’d spent with his dick sandwiched between those big boobs Tonks had just mentioned.
“And the Indian girl with the amazing legs who you were spotted having dinner with like two weeks later?”
“Parvati, my old classmate from Hogwarts,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I saw the way she looked at you in those pictures, and I’m damn sure that she wasn’t just interested in catching up with an old school chum.” Harry just grinned, unable to deny that. Parvati had decreed that he needed to take her out to dinner to make up for the poor date he’d given her at the Yule Ball, and the night had ended with her long legs wrapped around his waist while he fucked her from one corner of her flat to the other. “How about the girl with the long blonde hair who had half the department staring at her arse when she walked through the building to bring you lunch last week?”
“Stacy," Harry said. "She's American and was here on vacation." He'd happily shown her around during her stay in London and brought her back to his flat for some entertainment three nights in a row.
“I’m sure you sent her back with some great memories,” Tonks said, smirking at him. “Point is, you’re a famous, good-looking bloke, and you’ve charmed your way into the knickers of loads of beautiful girls since you and Ginny split. I’m asking you to try and use that Potter charm on some of the beautiful virgin witches from the Sacred Twenty-Eight families If it works, you can get off and add a few more names to that little list, and you can help us screw with the long-term plans of those bigoted wankers while you’re at it. This is strictly voluntary, of course, but—”
“Don’t worry,” Harry said, holding up a hand and cutting her off. “I’m your man.”
She was right about how much he’d enjoyed living his life as a famous bachelor to the fullest post-Ginny, but trying to make moves on some of the beautiful former Slytherin witches who’d ignored him at best and insulted him at worst back at Hogwarts felt like a very interesting challenge. This was one assignment that Auror Potter was eager to accept.
--
“What are you doing here?” Pansy Parkinson scowled at Harry as he walked into the secondhand bookstore in Diagon Alley that she was working at. “Here to gloat about how wonderful your life is, Potter?” The average daughter of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family wouldn’t have been caught dead behind the counter of a tiny little shop like this, but Pansy Parkinson’s reputation had taken a massive hit in the years since her very public attempt to convince the rest of Hogwarts to hand Harry over to Voldemort. Ironically, she seemed to be facing harsher consequences after the war than many of those who had actually fought in it on Voldemort’s side. Harry was pretty sure that was because the Parkinson family had very little gold to its name, and Pansy’s father was an unimpressive man who held very little significance. Her family’s lack of importance, plus pretty much all of their peers being there in the Great Hall when she pointed at Harry and implored everyone to grab him to hand him over to Voldemort, made her a convenient scapegoat for a lot of the public ridicule and scorn.
“Gloat?” Harry shook his head. “No. I have better things to do with my time than come all the way here just to gloat about my life, believe it or not.”
“Then why are you here?" Pansy turned her back on him and stepped away, grabbing a pile of books off the corner of the counter. While she began sorting the books on the display shelf along the wall, Harry took the opportunity to check her out from behind. Pansy might be a bitch, but she definitely had an amazing bum. “Maybe the auror department lets you get away with lazing about instead of doing your job, but I have to work if I want to get my paycheck. Either buy a book or get out and leave me alone, preferably for the rest of my life.”
“I’m not here to buy any books,” Harry said. “I came to ask if it’s true that your parents are currently in negotiations to betroth you to Alfred Avery.” Pansy dropped the book she was currently holding and whipped around to look at him.
“How did you hear about that?!” she asked heatedly..
“I have connections,” Harry said, shrugging. “Clearly, they’re right. And it’s also clear that you’re not exactly thrilled by the idea.”
“Of course I’m not thrilled about it, you fucking arsehole!” Pansy snapped. “Avery’s so stupid that his parents pulled him out of Hogwarts before he even took his OWLs, because they knew he wouldn’t pass a single one! He’s useless; a pathetic excuse for a wizard!” She glared at him and slammed her hands down on top of the counter. “But since every paper in the country has spent the last four years writing about me like I’m the one who started a war and went around torturing people, he’s the only option left!”
Harry could have pointed out that it was Pansy’s decision to call for his head that made her such a convenient target of scorn. He could also have said that her anger was misplaced, because even though she was glaring at him like he was personally responsible for the hit to her reputation, he’d never given a single pubic quote about her. He could have piled on and made her situation significantly worse, but any time he’d been asked about her, he’d just shrugged and brushed it off, focusing instead on the people who had actually tried to harm him rather than those who had just talked about doing so. But Harry didn’t bring any of that up. He wasn’t here to talk about the past with her. He was here to take his first shot at breaking up one of these Sacred Twenty-Eight betrothal negotiations.
“That’s actually why I’m here,” Harry said. “I’ve got a different option to present to you. One that could get you out of ever having to think about lowering yourself to a betrothal to the likes of Avery, and might very well change the way the papers write about you.” Harry saw Pansy looking at him warily, obviously hopeful, but not willing to take him at his word. “Some of your fellow Sacred Twenty-Eight lot might not be too happy with you, though.”
“They’re not very happy with me now,” Pansy said coldly. “And I’m not very happy with any of them either, for that matter.” She picked up another book off the counter, staring down at it before looking at Harry. “Let’s hear it, then, Potter. But I’m warning you: if you’re just wasting my time or fucking with me, I’m going to throw this book at your head as hard as I can.”
“Hermione would never let me hear the end of it if she found out I was responsible for inciting a book being thrown,” he said, grinning. Pansy just narrowed her eyes, looking like she was more tempted than ever to hurl the heavy-looking back at him. “I could use a date for the big public event Ellerby and Spudmore are putting on for the reveal of the new Firebolt model this weekend. Be my date, Pansy. That’ll get everyone talking.”
The book slipped out of Pansy’s shocked hands and landed on the top of the counter with a loud thump.
--
“Everyone’s staring,” Pansy muttered.
“Yes, they are," Harry said simply. Years ago, he would have felt incredibly uncomfortable having this many people staring at him. He was used to being the center of attention now, though, and didn’t care in the slightest about all of the important guests invited to the Ellerby and Spudmore party who were making no secret of the fact that they were watching him and Pansy together on the dance floor. “I’m used to it. They’ve been staring at me for years.”
“Me, too,” Pansy said. “Except they stare at you because you’re their savior. They stare at me because I’m the bitch who tried to talk everyone else into handing you over to You-Know-Who.”
“Right.” Harry nodded. “And that’s the whole point of you being my date for this party, isn’t it? For four years, you’ve been ‘the bitch who tried to hand Harry Potter over to Voldemort.’ But now, every paper in the country is going to write a story about this party, and how you walked in on my arm, smiling big and looking fucking incredible.” Pansy grinned. “They won’t know what to do with themselves. Some of them will probably come up with conspiracy theories about how this is all a big plot, and you’re going to try and curse me when my back is turned or something.”
“Ooh, I’ve always wanted to be an evil mastermind,” Pansy said. “But if that’s my role, I should do more to look the part of the seductress, shouldn’t I?” She smiled even bigger and narrowed the already small distance between their bodies, putting her arms around his neck. They were pressed together so much now that Harry could feel her small, perky breasts brushing against his chest as they danced together. It was a pleasant feeling.
“I think it’s working,” Harry said. He moved his hands down from her back toward her waist. He didn’t quite grab her arse, but his hands dipped low enough to tease the possibility and heighten the intimacy of their dance. “They’re really staring now.” Pansy looked off to the side momentarily and laughed at what she saw.
“My father looks like he might burst a blood vessel!” she said, smiling like this would be a preferred outcome for her. “He knows this is going to complicate his negotiations with the Averys. They might be useless, and Alfred may be a pathetic excuse for a wizard, but no family of the traditionalist faction of the Sacred Twenty-Eight wants to be associated with you too closely.”
“Of course not,” Harry said. “I’m one of the biggest reasons they only have a fraction of the influence they used to. Being my date isn’t going to make you any friends among them, not that you had many friends in that group to begin with.”
“No, I don’t,” Pansy agreed. “They’ve all been perfectly happy to let me take as much scorn as possible in the aftermath of the war.”
“And the people who aren’t in that group are going to have to look at you differently after this, too,” Harry said. “Particularly after I give an interview saying that I don’t blame you for what you said during the Battle of Hogwarts. I’ll say that you were just a frightened girl who wanted to stay safe and keep her friends safe, and remind everyone that you weren’t a Death Eater and didn’t fight on Voldemort’s side, even if your parents might have been sympathetic to his cause.”
“You would do that?” Pansy looked at him sharply, no longer smiling as she stared into his eyes. Harry met her gaze and nodded.
“I would,” he said. “It’s the truth, after all. You were a bitch to me and to my friends, and I didn’t like you at all. But you didn’t fight in any battle. The worst thing you did was point at me and beg others to grab me so the war could come to an end, and the castle wouldn’t be invaded. Even with Kingsley’s reforms, there are still people in positions of some influence who did far worse things than you. I have no problem speaking up in your defense. Seems to me like you’ve suffered more than enough over the last four years.”
Pansy stared at him in silence as they continued to dance, and he could tell that she was at a loss for words, which was not common for her.
“That would help me quite a bit,” she finally said, speaking slowly, and looking at him like she still wasn’t sure if his offer was genuine. “Particularly among the portion of our society that reveres you and respects you, which seems to be just about everyone.” Harry laughed. “I can’t say how the other members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight would respond. Frankly, after the last four years, I don’t give a toss what most of them think anymore. They’ve been happy to let me rot in that tiny bookstore, but a statement like that from you could open up all sorts of new opportunities for me.” She bit her lip, considering. “I’m not sure if it’d be enough to deter the Averys, though. If anything, they might see it as an advantage to have their idiot son married off to me after I’ve gotten your seal of approval.”
“There are other ways around that,” Harry said. He turned Pansy, guiding their dance to the other side of the floor so everyone got a good look at them together. “I know a thing or two about those betrothal contracts, and what sort of terms are included in them. I know there’s one requirement in particular that every witch is expected to meet.” It took a few seconds, but he could tell Pansy understood what he was referring to when her pale cheeks turned pink.
“I do meet that requirement, though,” she mumbled. “And as much as I wouldn’t be opposed to lying about it to try and deter the Averys, they have a spell that tests for it. It’s tradition to check it before any contract is signed, and again just before the wedding itself.”
Here was the moment Harry had been waiting for. Everything up to this point had been him and Pansy spending time together, getting to know one another better, and seeing for themselves that neither of them was the same people they had been back at Hogwarts. If he'd just come into that bookstore and suggested that he take her virginity as a solution to her problems, she likely would have chucked him out on his arse, and probably cursed him first. But they'd spent an evening together, he'd turned on the charm that had served him well over the last several years, and even offered to give an interview that should drastically rehabilitate Pansy's public image and improve her career prospects. Now, she should be far more receptive to his suggestion, one which would not only wreck any betrothal talk between the Parkinsons and Averys, but also remove any possibility of Pansy marrying into one of those Sacred Twenty-Eight families in the future.
“Who said anything about lying, Pansy?" Harry said, leaning in to whisper into her ear. He pulled back after a few moments and saw her staring at him, mouth hanging open and cheeks even pinker than before. She was shocked, but she was not reacting with anger, and her arms were still around the back of his neck. Harry let his fingers graze the curve of her butt as he stared into Pansy Parkinson's eyes and let her see that he wanted her.
“I’ve been having a great time with you tonight, Pansy,” he said quietly. “And if you’re up for it, I’d love to take you back to my place and spend the rest of the night making sure you’d fail any stupid chastity test with a smile on your face.”
--
For years, Harry had not been fond of the sound of Pansy Parkinson’s voice. Back in their Hogwarts days, Pansy had spoken in his vicinity mostly to taunt him or his friends, particularly Hermione. On the rare occasions that they’d run into each other after Hogwarts, she’d been similarly unpleasant, though it had mostly taken the form of bitterness about his status as the public’s hero and hers as a pariah.
His fondness for the former Slytherin’s voice was increasing rapidly, though. Over the course of their date at the reveal party for the new Firebolt, he’d already decided that her voice wasn’t nearly as shrill or annoying when she wasn’t joining Draco in insulting his friends. And now, he gained fresh appreciation for Pansy’s voice as he became the first person ever to learn what she sounded like as she came.
“Fuck, Potter!” she whined, rolling her hips against his face and holding onto his hair as she rode out her climax on his tongue. She’d been holding on tight to his hair and bucking beneath him during her orgasm, and Harry continued to lick her, undeterred by her moving and her hair-pulling. She was far from the first woman he’d brought such a strong reaction out of with his mouth, and he had seen and felt a variety of powerful reactions from his lovers when he got them to this point. Eating a woman out and watching from between their legs as they hit their peak was one of Harry’s favorite bedroom activities, and not solely because it generally made his partners even more enthusiastic about spending the night in his bed. He felt powerful every time he made a woman lose it with his mouth, and accomplishing it with the woman who had been such a nuisance in his life in his younger years was as amusing as it was satisfying. She might have annoyed him often when she was hanging off of Draco’s arm, but he knew that how Pansy looked and sounded as she came was going to replace those less pleasant memories at the forefront of his mind when he thought of her in the future.
“Never knew it could feel that good,” Pansy mumbled as Harry pulled his head out from between her thighs. “If I had, I might’ve done this a long time ago.”
“Well, I'm glad you didn't," Harry said, moving back onto his knees. "You probably wouldn't have ever wound up in my bed otherwise." While sitting on his knees, his eyes admired Pansy's nude body stretched out in his bed. Her skin was smooth and pale, her breasts were on the smaller side, perky and cute, and in perfect proportion with the rest of her slim body. The lone exception to that rule was her bum, which was rounder and thicker than it had any right to be on such a skinny girl. He couldn't see her buttocks right now with her on her back like this, but he'd had plenty of time to appreciate them earlier, including groping her bum while snogging with her and undressing her.
“Are you going to just stare at my body for the rest of the night?” Pansy asked, smirking up at him. She had a high opinion of herself, and he knew how pleased she had been to have him admire her body and express his desire for her throughout the night. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, but I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that you using your mouth on me isn’t technically enough to void the possibility of me entering a betrothal contract. If we want to do that beyond all doubt, you’ll need to take your underwear off and finish the deed.”
“Right you are.” Harry grabbed the waistband of his underwear and tugged them down, slowly freeing his cock. He watched Pansy’s face the whole time, waiting for the reaction from the virgin witch who had never seen a man naked before. Her reaction was everything he had been hoping for and more. Pansy stared at his dick with a mingled look of shock and excitement, like she couldn’t believe it was as big as it was, and couldn’t wait to have it inside her.
Before Harry could make a move or suggest anything, Pansy moved onto her knees, put her hands on his knees, and leaned her head in to lick at the tip of his cock. He groaned in pleasant surprise at her taking the initiative to lick his cockhead, and she continued to give him more to groan about as she licked down the length of his cock, kissed her way back up, and then took the head between her lips to suckle it. Pansy’s dark eyes stared up at him while she held his tip in her mouth and sucked on it.
“I thought I was going to have to ease you into this,” Harry said, watching her. He patted the top of her head with his right hand. “Guess I underestimated you, virgin or not.” Pansy’s eyes shone with amusement, and she slowly pulled her head off of his cockhead with a loud slurp.
“I’ve never done any of this before, but I’ve spent loads of time thinking about it,” Pansy said, moving back onto her knees. “I’ve been afraid it was never going to be half as good as it is in my fantasies, but you’ve got my hopes up now.” She turned around and moved onto her hands and knees, pointing her arse at him. “Think you can deliver, Potter?”
“Watch me, Parkinson,” he laughed, moving into position behind her. Pansy wiggled her hips at him, and Harry ran his left hand along her rump, rubbing and groping it while guiding his cock into place and pressing it at her entrance. She’d been excited when he peeled her clothes off during their snog, but he could feel how much greater her anticipation was now as she waited for him to push his cock into her, take her virginity, and remove the possibility of her ever entering a betrothal contract with a wizard from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families.
Harry gave her what they both wanted, easing forward and pushing the tip of his cock inside Pansy’s pussy. She gasped, and Harry groaned at the feeling of penetrating the former Slytherin. Despite her eagerness and arousal, he entered her carefully, knowing that he couldn’t be hasty here. This wasn’t just about taking Pansy’s virginity and succeeding in the task that had been given to him by Tonks. Harry would only consider tonight a success if Pansy enjoyed herself, and that meant he slowly entered her and paused when he felt his path forward obstructed.
“Keep going,” Pansy said quickly. “Do it!”
Harry did it. He gave another push forward, piercing Pansy’s hymen and officially rendering her unable to meet the standard terms of any betrothal contract still used by the traditionalist families. Harry didn't give a damn about any betrothal contract right now, though, and the irrelevant morons who made up the Sacred Twenty-Eight families that the Ministry was concerned with had never mattered less to him. Only Pansy mattered—her comfort and her pleasure. He couldn’t see her face from this angle, so he had to rely on her body language, her breathing, and any vocal cues that she might offer to let him know how she was feeling and whether or not she was prepared for him to continue. Pansy didn’t leave him in the dark for long.
“Keep going,” she said. He still couldn’t see her face, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t hear any pain in Pansy’s voice, which did not shake or waver at all. He heard only a desire for more, and he wasn’t about to argue with her. He put both hands on her hips and began to rock his hips, slowly working his cock back and forth in Pansy’s pussy.
“Bloody hell, you’re tight,” he groaned as he worked to establish a pace and find the right depth and angle. Pansy wasn’t the first virgin he’d had sex with, but if he’d ever had sex with any girl tighter than her, he could not remember it off the top of his head. Every inch of progress was a struggle inside her snug pussy, but it was the most pleasant kind of struggle possible.
“Of course,” Pansy said, chuckling slightly amid her sighs and groans of excitement. “I waited all this time, keeping myself pure, waiting for the right man to come along and take me. Appreciate what you’ve been given!”
“Oh, I appreciate it, trust me.” Harry gave her arse a slap that, while playful, still made her cheeks jiggle. She let out a laugh that turned into more of a moan halfway through when he thrust his hips forward to push his cock deeper inside her.
“Good!” Pansy exclaimed. “Then show me! Fuck me!”
For many years, there were few things that Harry would have been less likely to do than listen to Pansy Parkinson and do what she said. This, however, was one demand he would happily honor. He sped up the pace of his thrusts, working up to a speed more akin to how he would fuck a more experienced lover. He was fucking her hard enough to make her round buttocks jiggle each time that he pushed his hips forward again, but Pansy did not express any discomfort at the swift and thorough shag that he was subjecting her to. In fact, her reaction made it clear that she wanted nothing more than for him to keep fucking her just like this.
“Yes, Potter!” the dark-haired witch shouted. “Give it to me! Give it to me! Fuck me, you bastard!”
Pansy’s voice sounded shrill as she cried out and yelled for him to fuck her, but it didn’t annoy him this time. Her shrill shouts only turned Harry on now, and pushed him to shag her even harder. He hadn’t planned on pushing her like this during her first time, but if Pansy had a wish to get fucked hard, he was more than ready and willing to give her what she wanted. He always tried to match his performance to his lovers’ tastes, whether that meant slow, soft spooning sex, letting the girl get on top and bounce away on his cock, or spending most of the night snogging and cuddling and leaving the actual penetration for brief but satisfying rounds in between all the kissing.
In this case, Pansy craved a nice, hard fuck, and Harry was happy to oblige. He drilled her with deep thrusts, listened to her squeal, and watched her drop down onto her elbows and stick her arse up higher into the air. He didn't know if sticking her bum up like that was deliberate on her part, but he seized the moment either way, slapping her arse in between thrusts and relishing the weighty sound of his hand hitting her soft bum. He could tell that he was going to leave his handprint behind on her pale cheeks, and the desire to make his mark on her body drove him to put even more strength behind his spanks.
Harry thought about adding some dirty talk, but as this was his first time shagging her, and they really hadn’t had a single conversation with each other that wasn’t riddled with insults until a few days ago, he didn’t know how she would take it or if she would like it. Maybe she would have appreciated it, or maybe it would have taken her out of the mood. If this turned into a recurring thing, he might test the waters and figure out how she felt about him talking dirty to her while he railed her. But tonight, he settled for sticking to what he knew and giving her the balls-deep fuck she obviously wanted.
The fuck itself offered a rather interesting soundtrack anyway, even without any dirty talk mixed in. There was the sound of bodies slapping together every time he slammed his dick back deep inside her, and the more focused smacking of his hand spanking her bum in between thrusts. His bed did plenty of shaking and squeaking beneath them, which was a sound he was quite familiar with. Pansy Parkinson’s moans and squeals were far less familiar to him, but he had quickly decided that he liked them a great deal and hoped to hear them many more nights in the future. Pansy was loud during sex; she was one of the loudest lovers he’d ever been with. She didn’t try to hide her pleasure or protect her modesty during sex, like some girls did. Pansy wasn’t shy about moaning with pleasure while he pounded her pussy and introduced her body to the things she’d only been able to fantasize about until now.
She’d given up on any possibility of a betrothal to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight wizards when she agreed to come back to his place and give him her first time, and listening to Pansy shout, Harry knew that she couldn’t have been happier about her decision. It wasn’t just about getting out of a life married to an idiot like Avery, though that was obviously a vital part of her decision. Now, it was about her body getting everything she’d dreamed of, courtesy of Harry. She probably couldn’t have fathomed this happening with him, any more than he would have until very recently. But their mutually beneficial night together was bringing them both so much more beyond just wrecking the future plans of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. She was enjoying this doggy-style fuck just as much as he was, as her ever-intensifying moans and screams spoke to.
As loud as Pansy had been, she saved her most powerful scream for the arrival of her orgasm. Harry had never heard anyone reach this volume, not even at the height of their pleasure. Though it kind of hurt his ears, it was definitely worth it in the end. That scream probably would have been enough to finish him off after setting such a quick pace with her, but feeling her cum on his cock sealed his fate beyond all doubt. Since Pansy had taken the potion before any clothes came off, Harry did not hesitate to bury his cock in deep one more time and fire his cum inside. Pansy’s screams and moans somehow got even louder when she felt him cumming inside her, and since his balls had plenty of cum to give her, this scream stretched on for quite some time.
--
“Just so we’re clear, I’m not interested in marrying you.”
Harry blinked, looking up from the pan he was frying as Pansy entered the kitchen and made her declaration. She’d stayed the night and slept in his bed, and after a satisfying early morning quickie that was nowhere near as rough as their first time, she made use of his shower while he cooked them breakfast.
“Err, yeah,” he said slowly. “I’m not interested in marrying you, either.”
“Good.” Pansy had changed into one of his old shirts, which barely reached her mid-thigh. It looked sexy as hell on her, he had to admit. “Just so we’re clear.”
“We’re clear,” Harry said, nodding as he flipped the eggs over in the pan.. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to tell you I love you. I will tell you that I love fucking you, though.” Pansy snorted and approached the kitchen counter where he was cooking.
“Ditto, Potter,” she said. “I don’t want to date you, or marry you. But I wouldn’t mind fucking you every now and again. Despite your many faults, I can’t deny that you’re a talented lover.”
“Happy to earn such glowing praise from you, Parkinson,” he said, chuckling. “We can fuck any time you want.”
“Great.” Pansy walked around him and dropped to a crouch. “How about right now? I took you in my mouth for a bit last night, but I’d like to try giving a proper blowjob.”
“Hey, I’m not going to complain,” he said as she reached for the drawstring of his pajama pants. “If you’re good enough, maybe you can manage to make me cum before the eggs are done.”