A Brighter Tomorrow [Harry / Tracey: One-Shot] (Patreon)

Here's the Harry / Tracey one-shot! I tried something a bit different with this one (since it's just one chapter). Let me know how you find it, or whether you prefer my other works! Thanks :)

The Hogwarts library was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams streaming through the high windows, illuminating rows upon rows of ancient tomes. The scent of old parchment and leather bindings hung in the air, a familiar comfort to those who sought refuge among the stacks.

Harry Potter sat at a secluded table near the Restricted Section, surrounded by piles of books. He was struggling to focus on his Transfiguration essay, his mind wandering to the events of the past year. The war, the losses, the weight of expectations... Even now, months after Voldemort's defeat, he found it hard to shake off the lingering shadows.

As he stared blankly at his parchment, Harry's thoughts drifted to the changes in the school since his return. Many familiar faces were missing, either lost in the war or choosing not to return. The dynamics between houses had shifted, with old rivalries giving way to a tentative peace born of shared trauma and relief.

One such change was the quiet presence of Tracey Davis, a Slytherin in his year. Harry had never paid much attention to her before, but he'd noticed her more often lately. Unlike most of her housemates, Tracey, being a half-blood, had kept a low profile during the war, hiding from the pureblood elitism and anti-muggle prejudice that ran rampant in Slytherin and the country at large. She'd returned to Hogwarts, like himself, to complete her education and find some semblance of normalcy.

Lost in thought, Harry almost missed the soft footsteps approaching his table. He looked up to see Tracey standing a few feet away, clutching a book to her chest and looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"Um, excuse me, Potter?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes darting between Harry and the floor.

Harry blinked, suddenly very aware of Tracey's presence. He noticed the way her dark hair fell in soft waves around her face, framing striking blue eyes that seemed to hold a depth he'd never noticed before. Her slender fingers fidgeted with the corner of her book, betraying her anxiety.

"Davis? Is everything okay?" Harry asked, curiosity piqued.

Tracey took a small step forward, then hesitated. "I... I heard you're quite good at defensive spells. Well... I mean obviously you are, but..." she trailed off, blushing furiously. "Mind if I ask for your help with something?" Her cheeks flushed slightly as she spoke, her voice gaining a bit more confidence towards the end.

Harry found himself captivated by the play of emotions across Tracey's face. He'd never seen this shy, vulnerable side of her before. It was... endearing. He realised with a start that he was staring and quickly gestured to the chair across from him.

"Of course, I'd be happy to help. Please, have a seat," he said, offering a warm smile.

As Tracey sat down, placing her books on the table with careful precision, Harry's mind raced. He'd never really interacted with Tracey before, and now he found himself wondering why. There was something intriguing about her, a quiet strength behind her shy demeanour that drew him in.

"So, what exactly are you struggling with?" Harry asked, leaning forward slightly.

Tracey looked up, meeting his eyes for a moment before glancing down at her book. "Well, I understand the basic Shield Charm, but I can't seem to grasp how to modify it for different types of attacks. It's... frustrating." The last word came out as a soft admission, almost vulnerable.

As Harry began explaining, he found himself impressed by Tracey's questions. Despite her initial shyness, her intelligence shone through. She was sharp, catching on quickly and asking insightful follow-ups. Harry felt a warmth spreading through his chest, a mixture of pride in his ability to help and a growing admiration for Tracey's mind.

He couldn't help but notice other things too - the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she was concentrating, the light dusting of freckles across her nose, the way her eyes lit up when she grasped a concept. Harry found himself wanting to see more of that light, to be the one to put it there.

As their study session continued, Harry realised he was enjoying himself more than he had in a long time. There was something refreshing about Tracey's company, free from the weight of expectations that usually accompanied his interactions. Here, in this quiet corner of the library, he wasn't the Boy Who Lived or the Chosen One. He was just Harry, helping a classmate and perhaps, he dared to hope, making a new friend.

The thought brought a genuine smile to his face, one that Tracey shyly returned, sending a flutter through Harry's stomach. He had a feeling this was the beginning of something new and exciting, a chance for connection in a world that was finally at peace.

...

The weeks following Harry and Tracey's first study session in the library saw a gradual but steady development in their relationship. What started as chance encounters and shy glances soon blossomed into something more, a connection neither of them had anticipated but both increasingly cherished.

It began with breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry found himself scanning the Slytherin table each morning, his eyes seeking out Tracey's familiar face. When their gazes met, Tracey would offer a shy smile, a simple gesture that never failed to brighten Harry's day. He'd return the smile, feeling a warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with his morning tea.

"You seem chipper lately," Hermione remarked one morning, her observant eyes following Harry's line of sight. "Anything to do with a certain Slytherin?"

Harry felt his cheeks warm. "I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled, but the knowing look Hermione gave him said she wasn't fooled.

In Potions class, fate seemed to intervene. Professor Slughorn, with his penchant for unexpected pairings, assigned Harry and Tracey as partners for a particularly complex potion. As they worked side by side, the air between them seemed charged with an energy Harry couldn't quite name.

"Careful with the moonstone powder," Tracey murmured, her hand brushing against Harry's as she reached for a vial. The brief contact sent a jolt through him, and he nearly dropped the entire container.

"Sorry," Tracey whispered, a blush creeping up her neck. "I'm a bit clumsy today."

Harry found his voice, offering her a reassuring smile. "No worries. I think we make a good team."

The smile Tracey gave him in return was dazzling, and Harry had to remind himself to breathe.

Their study sessions in the library became a regular occurrence, no longer limited to Defence Against the Dark Arts. They'd sit close together, poring over Charms textbooks or Transfiguration notes, their shoulders almost touching. Harry found himself hyper-aware of every movement Tracey made, from the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when concentrating to the soft sound of her quill scratching against parchment.

During one such session, Tracey looked up from her notes, her blue eyes meeting Harry's with an intensity that made his heart skip a beat. "Harry," she said softly, and he marvelled at how much he loved hearing her say his name. "How do you stay so calm under pressure? I've always wondered."

Harry thought that question was ironic, given that right now, he felt anything but calm. They way her nose scrunched up when she concentrated, the curve of her lips, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed - all these things were driving him mad with desire. He wanted to reach out, brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead, lean in and press his lips against hers. But he didn't. Not yet. Instead, he took a deep breath and answered honestly. "Well, I guess it's something I learned over the years. Keeping cool under pressure can mean the difference between life and death."

And the way his heart was beating at that moment, he knew he wasn't exaggerating. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time in a way fighting Voldemort never had been.

Tracey's smile was soft and warm, and Harry found himself wanting to say more, to tell her how important she had become to him. But the words caught in his throat, not quite ready to be spoken.

...

One crisp autumn afternoon, Harry was flying during a Gryffindor Quidditch practice when he spotted a familiar figure in the stands. Tracey sat alone, her Slytherin scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, her eyes following his every move. After practice, unable to resist, Harry flew over to where she sat.

"Enjoy the show?" he called out, hovering just in front of her.

Tracey's cheeks were pink from the cold, but her eyes sparkled. "I've never seen anyone fly like you do. It's... impressive."

Harry felt a surge of boldness. "Maybe I could take you for a ride sometime?"

The way Tracey's eyes widened, a mix of excitement and nervousness, made Harry's heart race. "I'd like that," she replied softly.

...

As autumn deepened into winter, Harry and Tracey found themselves walking through Hogsmeade together. They weren't quite holding hands, but their fingers brushed with each step, sending tingles up Harry's arm. They stopped at the edge of the village, looking out over the snow-covered Scottish countryside.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Tracey breathed, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air. "Sometimes I forget to just stop and look."

Harry turned to look at her, taking in her profile against the winter landscape. She was stunning, her dark hair contrasting sharply with the white snow, her skin flushed from the chill. He realised suddenly that he had fallen in love with her, deeply and irrevocably.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. "Beautiful." But he wasn't talking about the view.

Tracey turned to look at him curiously, a hopeful glint in her eye that made Harry's heart stutter. He felt like a deer caught in headlights, unable to look away, unable to speak. For a moment, he thought about telling her everything, pouring his heart out, confessing the depth of his feelings. But the moment passed, and they continued their walk in comfortable silence, both acutely aware of the unspoken words hanging between them.

As Christmas approached, Harry found himself pacing in front of the Room of Requirement, his mind focused on one thought: creating the perfect setting for a date with Tracey. The absolute concoction of emotions that had been swirling inside of him these past few months was overwhelming him. He had faced down dragons and basilisks, fought off hundred of dementors, and defeated Voldemort himself, but just the idea of asking Tracey out on a proper date was giving him more anxiety than any of those challenges combined.

When the door finally appeared, he stepped inside to find a cozy, romantic space that exceeded his wildest imagination. "This is perfect," he murmured to himself, taking in the soft lighting, the comfortable seating, and the small table set for two. "Now I just need to ask her."

The next day, after their Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Harry gathered all his Gryffindor courage. He approached Tracey as she was packing up her bag, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure she must be able to hear it.

"Tracey, can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, proud that his voice didn't waver.

She looked up at him, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Of course, Harry. What's on your mind?"

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I was wondering if... well, if you'd like to go on a date with me? A real one, just the two of us?"

The way Tracey's face lit up with joy made every moment of nervousness worth it. "I thought you'd never ask, Harry," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "I'd love to."

As Harry watched Tracey agree to his proposal, a wave of relief washed over him. His heart seemed to explode in fireworks, a feeling of pure elation coursing through his veins. He felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes, his heart bursting into a thousand fragments of pure happiness. All the nerves, the fear of rejection, the anticipation - it had all led to this moment, this victorious feeling. He couldn't remember ever being this happy before - not even when he'd defeated Voldemort. This was different. It was personal. It was his own victory.

As they walked out of the classroom together, their hands finally intertwined, fingers lacing together as if they'd always meant to be that way. Harry couldn't stop smiling, his heart light with the promise of what was to come. He glanced at Tracey, seeing his own happiness reflected in her eyes, and knew that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

...

Harry paced nervously in front of the blank wall on the seventh floor, his mind focused intently on what he needed. He'd practised this part several times since last night, making absolutely sure he would be able to perform on the big day. On the third pass, a door materialized, ornate and inviting. He took a deep breath, smoothing down his dress robes one last time before opening the door to check that everything was perfect.

The Room of Requirement had outdone itself. Soft, warm light emanated from floating candles, casting a gentle glow over the space. A small table for two stood in the centre, draped in a crisp white cloth and set with gleaming silverware. Off to one side, a cozy seating area with plush armchairs faced a crackling fireplace. The air was filled with the subtle scent of jasmine, and soft music played from an unseen source.

Harry nodded, satisfied. "This is perfect," he murmured to himself, closing the door gently. Now all he had to do was wait for Tracey.

He didn't have to wait long. Tracey appeared at the end of the corridor, and Harry's breath caught in his throat. She wore elegant dress robes in a deep blue that brought out her eyes, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. As she moved closer, Harry noticed the hint of cleavage that peeked above the neckline of her dress, causing a surge of desire to ripple through him. Harry swallowed hard, trying to keep his thoughts appropriate.

As she approached, Harry could see the hint of nervousness in her smile, mirroring his own feelings.

"Hi," Tracey said softly as she reached him.

"Hi," Harry replied, suddenly feeling tongue-tied. "You look... beautiful."

A blush crept up Tracey's cheeks, and she did a little twirl to show off her gown. The fabric rustled softly, drawing attention to the curve of her waist and the graceful sweep of her skirts. Harry swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure.

"Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself."

Harry smiled, feeling some of his nervousness dissipate. He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

As they entered the Room of Requirement, Harry watched Tracey's face, delighting in her look of wonder as she took in the romantic setting.

"Oh, Harry," she breathed, her eyes wide. "This is incredible."

Harry felt a surge of pride. "I wanted it to be special," he admitted. "I hope you like it."

Tracey turned to him, her eyes shining. "It's perfect."

They settled at the table, and as if on cue, their dinner appeared - a delicious spread that wouldn't have been out of place at a Hogwarts feast. As they ate, their initial nervousness melted away, replaced by the easy companionship they'd developed over the past months.

"I never thought I'd be here like this," Tracey said, gesturing around the room. "With you, I mean."

Harry tilted his head, curious. "Why not?"

Tracey shrugged, a wry smile on her face. "Well, you're Harry Potter, aren't you? The Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the Man-Who-Conquered... And I'm just... me. A Slytherin who kept her head down during the war."

Harry reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "You're not 'just' anything, Tracey. You're brilliant, and kind, and..." he paused, gathering his courage, "and being with you makes me happier than I've been in a long time."

Tracey's fingers tightened around his, her eyes glistening slightly. "Really?"

"Really," Harry confirmed, his voice soft but sure.

As they finished their meal, the tension between them grew palpable. Harry found himself unable to look away from Tracey's lips, imagining what they'd taste like. He wondered how she'd react if he leaned in, captured her mouth with his, kissed her deeply and passionately.

Unable to resist any longer, he rose from his chair and stepped around the table. Taking Tracey's hand, he pulled her gently to her feet. They were close now, so close he could feel her warmth radiating against him.

"Harry?" Tracey whispered, her voice barely audible.

Harry cupped her cheek, running his thumb lightly along her jawline. "May I kiss you, Tracey?"

She looked up at him, her eyes huge, pupils dilated with anticipation. Her lips parted, and she nodded. "Yes," she breathed. "Please."

And then their lips met. It was a soft, hesitant kiss at first, a gentle exploration of each other's mouths. But soon, the kiss deepened, growing more passionate and urgent. Harry wrapped his arms around Tracey, pulling her close, feeling the press of her curves against him.

As they broke apart, both breathless, Harry saw the flush on Tracey's cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes. He knew without a doubt that this moment would change everything. He leaned in again, capturing her mouth in another heated kiss, his hands roaming over her back, sliding lower until he cupped her plump bottom, giving it a playful squeeze.

Tracey moaned into his mouth, pressing herself against him, letting him know she wanted more. Their kisses became hungrier, more desperate, as if they couldn't get enough of each other.

Finally, they broke apart, both gasping for air. Harry trailed kisses along Tracey's jawline, down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. He heard her moan again, low and needy, and before he knew it, he felt a soft hand tracing the outline of his erection through his trousers.

He groaned, pushing himself into her touch. "Tracey," he growled, his voice deeper than normal. "If you don't stop that, I won't be able to control myself."

Tracey giggled, a light, tinkling sound that made his heart skip a beat. "Do you want me to stop, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, swallowing hard. "No."

Her grin widened, her eyes bright with mischief. Slowly, Tracey slid down his body, dropping to her knees. And with deft fingers, she undid his trousers, freeing his straining erection.

Ten inches of thick, pulsing flesh sprang free, nearly making a swipe for Tracey's face, causing her eyes to go wide. "Wow," she murmured, looking up at him with an expression of pure lust.

Before Harry could say a word, she gripped his shaft firmly and took the tip into her mouth, licking, sucking, and teasing him with her tongue. Harry watched, mesmerised, as she started bobbing her head, taking him deeper into her warm, wet mouth.

Harry had always known Tracey was smart, kind, and beautiful, but he had no idea she was such a talented cocksucker. Within minutes, he was grunting and panting, thrusting himself in and out of her mouth with wild abandon.

"Fuck, Tracey!" he moaned, throwing his head back. "I can't hold it much longer! You've gotta let me pull out!"

But Tracey didn't listen. Instead, she doubled down, sucking harder and faster, moaning around his girth. Harry felt the familiar tightness in his balls, signalling his impending climax. He tried to pull out, but Tracey held on tight, refusing to let go.

Tracey looked up at him, her eyes pleading, urging him to give in to the intense sensations coursing through him. The sight of her on her knees, his cock buried in her mouth, stretching her plump, red lips to their limits sent Harry spiralling into ecstasy.

"Ahhh... fuck, Tracey! Here it comes!" Harry shouted, warning her just before he exploded.

Tracey dug her nails into his hips and pushed her head forward, forcing his throbbing cock deeper into her throat as rope after rope of his hot, sticky seed filled her mouth. She swallowed quickly and eagerly, her eyes never leaving his, drinking every drop as if it was nectar from the gods.

When Harry was spent, he withdrew from her mouth with a satisfied sigh. Tracey wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smiling up at him. "Did you enjoy that, Harry?" she asked, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Harry grinned, reaching down to help her stand. "You have no idea," he replied, his voice still husky with desire. "But we're far from done."

With a wicked smile, Harry closed his eyes and focused on transforming the room. In seconds, a large bed appeared where the table used to be, complete with silk sheets, plush pillows, and dimmed lights.

"Wow," Tracey whispered, her eyes shining with excitement. "This is incredible."

Harry pulled her towards the bed, his hands roaming all over her body, savouring every inch of her smooth, firm skin. As they sank onto the mattress, Harry's mind raced with possibilities - the things he wanted to do to her, the ways he wanted to make her scream in pleasure.

"Harry," Tracey purred, arching her back as he kissed a trail down her neck, lingering at the hollow between her collarbones. "I want you so bad right now."

Harry chuckled darkly, feeling his erection twitch back to life in response. "And you'll have me," he promised, nipping at her tender flesh. "Every inch of me."

He continued his assault on her senses, moving lower, tugging at the ties of her dress. His hands found the bare skin of her shoulders, caressing softly, teasingly.

As he bared her breasts, Harry paused, awed by their perfection. They were perky, with small pink nipples already puckered and begging for attention. He leaned in, taking one in his mouth, rolling the stiff peak between his teeth, eliciting a gasp from Tracey.

"Oh, yes, Harry!" Tracey cried out, threading her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. "Just like that!"

Encouraged by her reaction, Harry moved to her other breast, giving it the same treatment while his free hand roamed lower, slipping beneath her skirts. When his fingertips brushed against her damp folds through her panties, Tracey bucked her hips, crying out his name.

"Please, Harry! I need you inside me!" she begged, her voice trembling with need.

Harry grinned, sliding her panties aside and pushing two fingers inside her, feeling how tight and hot she was. He curved them, hitting a spot that made Tracey shudder and moan louder.

"Yes, there! Right there, Harry!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls of the room.

Her pleading look, the way her body writhed under his touch, the sounds spilling from her lips - everything combined to push Harry past the edge. Withdrawing his fingers, he stood, stripping off the remainder of his clothes in record time.

His cock was fully erect again, pointing straight at Tracey, who lay spread eagle on the bed, her legs parted wide, inviting him in. Harry didn't waste another second. Climbing onto the bed, he settled between her thighs, rubbing his tip along her entrance, gathering her wetness.

"Ready for me, Tracey?" he growled, looking deep into her eyes, seeing the raw need reflected there.

Tracey nodded frantically, her hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life. "Yes, Harry! Please, don't make me wait any longer!"

Harry obliged, thrusting into her slowly, savouring the feeling of being engulfed by her heat. He wanted to take it slow, to let her adjust to his length and girth inch by inch, but Tracey had other plans. Before he knew it, her legs had wrapped around his waist like a snake coiling around its prey, pulling him deeper into her.

"Fuck, Tracey!" Harry shouted, losing control for a moment. "You're so tight, girl! You're gonna squeeze my cock off!"

Tracey laughed, a light, breathless sound that sent another wave of pleasure coursing through him. "Then give it to me, Harry!" she demanded, her voice dripping with lust. "Make me scream your name!"

Harry needed no further encouragement. Grabbing her hips, he started pounding into her, hard and fast, each impact sending ripples across her soft flesh. Her tits bounced wildly with each thrust, her moans grew louder and more desperate, urging him on.

Hidden beneath the shy exterior, Tracey was an animal in bed, a sex-crazed minx that drove him wild. The harder he fucked her, the louder she cried out, until finally, she reached her limit.

"Oh, fuck, Harry! Yes! Yes! Yessss!" Tracey screamed, her entire body shaking as she came, clenching around his cock so tightly that Harry saw stars.

But Harry wasn't done yet. Pulling out just before he lost control, he flipped Tracey onto her stomach, helping her up onto her hands and knees before tearing off the remains of her robe and panties. The perfect curves of her ass greeted him, plump and inviting, glistening with her juices. Positioning himself behind her, he pushed back inside her still-fluttering folds, groaning at the indescribable feeling of being enveloped once more.

"Mmm, yes, Harry! Fuck me from behind!" Tracey cried out, wiggling her hips enticingly.

Harry gripped the round cheeks of her ass roughly, using them as leverage as he rammed into her from behind, causing the bed to creak and groan beneath them. He watched as her ass jiggled and bounced with each powerful stroke, his balls slapping against her skin with each impact.

The room filled with the scent of sweat, sex, and magic, mingling together in a heady perfume that only heightened Harry's desire. The sight of Tracey, bent over in front of him, her head thrown back in ecstasy, sent him spiralling towards the edge.

With a final, thunderous roar, Harry felt his climax approaching. "Ahhh... fuck, Tracey! Here it comes!" he warned, his voice strained and guttural.

Tracey pushed back against him, forcing him even deeper inside her, taking every last inch. "Give it to me, Harry! Fill me up with your seed!" she commanded, her voice almost feral with lust.

And with that, Harry lost all semblance of control. His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, flooding his senses with blinding white pleasure. Rope after rope of his thick, creamy cum surged forth, filling Tracey's womb with warmth.

And as Harry's magical essence filled Tracey, she too experienced an intense, mind-blowing climax. She could feel the pulsating heat of his cum spreading within her, filling her up, making her feel deliriously full. It was as though they were one entity, connected not just physically, but also spiritually.

"Ah! AH! AHH!" Tracey cried out, her voice rising and falling in a continuous loop as she came alongside him, milking his cock for every last delicious drop.

Their lovemaking left them both breathless, their bodies entangled in a post-coital embrace. Spent and satisfied, they laid together on the large bed, caressing each other gently, whispering sweet words of love and affection.

It was a night neither would ever forget - the beginning of something beautiful, something meaningful, something worth fighting for. And for Harry, it was a reminder that even in a world full of darkness and danger, there was always hope. Always love. And always the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

...

The 'Harry / Tracey' pairing was voted for by my generous supporters in the 'Story Shaper' tier. Thank you so much for your kind support!

I am setting up another poll as I write this, so consider joining if you'd like to vote on future stories!

Thanks! <3