Professor Potter Ch. 27 (Harry Potter AU) (Patreon)

A/N: I struggled with how I wanted to write Narcissa. So now I've decided you guys will help me decide just what kind of thirsty wench she is.

-x-X-x-

One might suspect that the moment Harry has made his choice, he’ll go about implementing it. But he likes to think he’s getting a little better at taking a step back and assessing his options. As such, after deciding that Narcissa Malfoy would be the Hogwarts Native he would approach, Harry had NOT gone on to immediately set up a meeting with the Ancient Ruins Professor and Lady of House Malfoy.

Instead, he’d pulled Nymphadora Tonks aside, hoping to get some information from her first. After all, Narcissa Malfoy WAS Tonks’ aunt, the sister of Andromeda Tonks, and so he figured the Hogwarts Caretaker should have some information for him.

Of course, Tonks was just happy to get some time alone with him, and before he could even really get around to WHY he had approached her, Harry found himself on his back, getting ridden by the gorgeous metamorphmagus. It would seem, at least from what he could see, that Tonks was still sporting a little bit of a complex over how her mother had been cockblocking her earlier in the year.

Regardless, with his hands on Tonks’ hips, he thrusts up into her from below, while in turn the beautiful witch moans wantonly, bouncing up and down on his cock like she was born to ride it. Certainly, her body is currently fuckable in all the best ways, from the way her cunt is milking him for all its worth, to the larger breasts and widened hips she’s given herself.

There’s no denying Harry is enjoying the ride, to be clear. But at the same time, he DID approach Tonks for a reason, and that reason wasn’t sex.

“Tonks…”

“Oooh, Harry~ You feel so good inside of me. Mm, keep it up. Don’t stop now!”

He had no intentions of stopping… unless Tonks proved utterly incapable of multitasking. Frowning, he grips a little harder at her pillowy hips.

“Tonks!”

But she just moans at the tightened grip, still gyrating her hips around on his cock. Rolling his eyes, Harry grunts… and promptly slams Tonks onto her back. To be fair, they’re on a bed, so it’s not like she incurs any further injury than having the breath knocked from her lungs a little bit. Switching positions, pushing her down onto the bed and taking the spot on top, Harry pins Tonks in place with his hands holding her wrists above her head.

“I need your help, Tonks.”

Blinking owlishly, a soft mewl on her lips, Tonks has the good grace to at least look abashed as she squirms under him for a moment before going mostly still. He’s still buried inside of her, but the metamorph just nods quietly, to show she’s listening.

“I’ve been making in roads with the Americans. I can safely say I’ve got Professor Zatara and her assistant Raven fully on my side. Meanwhile, Professor Frost and her assistant Jean are… mostly on board. That said, I thought I’d turn my attention a little closer to home. Namely, by approaching Narcissa Malfoy next.”

Tonks’ face scrunches up at that, and it’s immediately obvious the metamorph isn’t exactly impressed with his choice.

“Ugh, do you have to? Of all my living aunts, she’s my least favorite. And considering the other one is Yennefer…”

Harry blinks at that, brow furrowing in surprise.

“Wait, Yennefer is your aunt?”

Why hadn’t Andromeda or Nymphadora mentioned that before? That seemed like crucial information, didn’t it? But Tonks is quick to shake her head.

“Oh, sorry, no… I just grew up with my mother so far under the Lodge’s thumb that Yennefer was like an aunt to me. No blood relation, Yennefer isn’t a Black witch as far as I know. Still… even she’s better than Narcissa, don’t you think? And Ciri IS still hanging around you know…”

Harry rolls his eyes at the mention of Yennefer’s adoptive daughter. Tonks had told him about her already, and Harry had ultimately decided against taking that particular bait. Like the metamorph herself had postulated, it was almost certainly a gambit on Yennefer’s part. He wasn’t planning on falling for such an obvious trap. Even if he HAD caught a glimpse of Ciri by this point and could admit that the ashen-haired girl was indisputably beautiful.

“I’m not just going to hand myself over to the Lodge of Sorceresses, Tonks. The idea is that I build my own powerbase before confronting them, right? Stumbling headfirst into their schemes seems counterproductive to that.”

Tonks reluctantly nods, her naked bust still heaving with panting breaths as she lays beneath him, his cock buried inside of her. After a long moment, Harry finally begins moving again, albeit slowly to keep Tonks focused on the conversation at hand.

“S-Still… you don’t want them to think you’ve caught on. Maybe… maybe going in with both eyes open wouldn’t be so bad, r-right?”

She might have a point. But Harry can tell Tonks is only saying what she’s saying to get him off of Narcissa, and he’s already made up his mind on that front. So, shaking his head, he gives Tonks a stern look.

“I asked you here for help with your actual aunt, Tonks. If you can’t do that… we can be done for the day, I suppose.”

“N-No! I’ll help!”

Even as the metamorph whines, she’s bringing her legs up and winding them around his waist, pulling him in ever closer. Grunting, Harry chuckles.

“Good. Then how should I approach her?”

For a long moment, Tonks is quiet. Harry almost starts to slow down again, thinking that the witch might be milking this for all she can while also going on a silent strike of some kind. But no, after a beat, she finally clears her throat.

“C-Carefully… but also firmly. You can’t… you can’t let her control the narrative, Harry.”

Furrowing his brow at that, Harry cocks his head to the side.

“Control the narrative? You make her sound like some sort of mastermind, Tonks. She’s the housewife of the Black Sisters. Don’t you think you’re giving her too much credit?”

Biting her lower lip, Tonks groans as he hits a particularly deep part of her.

“Nngh… no, you’re underestimating her. She’s… she’s so much more than that. She’s the Black Sister… who snared Lucius Malfoy.”

That was… hm, that WAS another way to look at it. And frankly, Harry’s first impression of Narcissa Malfoy HAD been under rather trying circumstances. He hadn’t had any other truly meaningful interactions with her besides that moment in time where she’d begged him to save her son. In that regard, Harry supposed he had only truly known Narcissa Malfoy at her weakest and most vulnerable, hadn’t he?

Now… now she was in a much stronger position. Thanks in no small part to a good word from Harry himself, only Lucius Malfoy had gone to Azkaban in the wake of the Dark Lord’s defeat. Narcissa and Draco had both gotten out with a veritable slap on the wrist by comparison. They’d paid a sizable fine, one that had probably done enough damage to their finances to prompt Narcissa taking the job at Hogwarts this year, but beyond that, they had their freedom.

In the end, Harry decides it’s good advice. And so, he stops interrogating Tonks, and starts fucking her again. The metamorphmagus seems equal parts relieved and appreciate of that fact and moans up a storm as she clings to him with all four limbs, holding him to her as he fucks her into the bed for a while longer before they finish up.

Tomorrow… tomorrow, he would pay Narcissa Malfoy a visit.

-x-X-x-

Unlike with the others, he doesn’t arrange a meeting with the Ancient Runes Professor after hours or on the weekend or anything like that. Instead, he makes his way across Hogwarts from his office to hers after classes are done for the day and before dinner can begin. Thanks to the Marauder’s Map, he knows precisely when she’s completely alone, with no one around to be a bother.

That’s when he strides into her classroom, a confident smile on his lips and his head held high. He’s not coming to her hat in hand as a student, but rather as a peer and equal, Professor to Professor. Of course, when she sees him, the Lady Malfoy immediately stiffens up, seeming to take something else from his unannounced presence.

“Lord Potter-Black.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at that, even as Narcissa stands from her desk and sweeps around to meet him in front of it. He has to admit, she’s looking quite good these days. Not that he hadn’t already noticed in the time since they’d both been working here at Hogwarts, but he hadn’t really taken a moment to truly process the difference between his first meeting with the Lady Malfoy and now.

That night… well, neither of them had been at their best. He had just been struck down by Voldemort, again, and she had been damn near desperate with worry for her son. All in all, desperation was not a good look on Narcissa Malfoy. She looked quite a bit nicer now, wearing a dark green dress that hugs her curves.

“Professor Malfoy.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, the Ancient Runes Professor thins out her lips, her eyes flickering at his form of address for her. After a beat, she inclines her head ever so slightly.

“… Professor Potter-Black.”

Grinning, cheerful as can be and keeping Tonks’ words in mind, Harry shakes his head as he moves over to lean on a nearby desk.

“Just Professor Potter, please. Too many hyphens and I start to itch like crazy.”

The carefree tone he takes with her definitely seems to annoy Narcissa, at least a little. Or maybe it’s his perceived disregard for the Black name that she thinks he’s showing at the moment. Harry will always hold nothing but love in his heart for his godfather, and for Sirius he’ll happily hold dominion over the Black family, even if that means going by Lord Potter-Black… but in truth, he has no love for House Black in general. Certainly not after all they put Sirius through.

Narcissa, on the other hand, had been born into the Black Family. And once upon a time, she had most definitely anticipated Draco inheriting the mantle of Lord Black as well as Lord Malfoy, thanks to his claim via her blood.

Alas, it was not meant to be. Draco would be Lord Malfoy… but he would never be Lord Black. Not so long as Harry still drew breath. Hm, should he be worried by that thought? No, it was probably fine…

“Professor Potter, then. I’ve been anticipating this meeting.”

Narcissa’s tone sounds less conniving and manipulative, as Tonks had assured him the older witch would be, and more… exasperated and overwrought. Harry can’t help but simply raise an eyebrow in response, not quite sure what she’s talking about.

At his silence, Narcissa looks almost pained, and with a sigh reaches up and begins unbuttoning the top of her dress. Taken aback, Harry remains silent, even as the older witch proceeds to expose herself to him. Her dress, which had started up buttoned all the way to her neck, swiftly comes undone off her shoulders, exposing her pale flesh inch by inch.

As she half-strips for him, Narcissa steps forward, one foot in front of the other, swaying her hips as she goes. Tonks’ warning comes back to him now. She’d told him to be careful, to not allow Narcissa to control the narrative. Except… something about this feels less seductive and more desperate, in Harry’s eyes. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on here… until Narcissa finally spells it out for him.

“I promise, Professor… whatever my son has done, I am more than ready to make it up to you.”

Dropping to her knees in front of him, the Pureblood Purist seems all too ready to debase herself for a Half-Blood wizard like him. Harry would have been baffled by this, if he didn’t already know precisely what Narcissa’s greatest priority was and always would be. Draco Malfoy, her son. Staring up at him, the older witch reaches into his robes, her tits out and fully on display as she prepares to extract his cock.

Harry almost lets her… but no, he can’t bring himself to just let this happen, not based on a misunderstanding.

“You think this is about Draco?”

Narcissa freezes in place.

“… It’s not?”

Eyebrow lifted at the topless witch; Harry shakes his head.

“Your son… has been surprisingly respectful. He hasn’t made any trouble, all year long. In fact, I’ve had more trouble from Daphne Greengrass than Draco.”

For a long moment, the incredibly pale MILF just kneels there in front of him, blank-faced and processing that. Finally though, she seems to get it through her skull that he really isn’t here to… what, demand sexual favors from her in exchange for leniency for her son? Honestly, did Narcissa think he was a monster?

Realizing what she’s done, the older witch promptly scrambles back and rises to her feet, covering herself up as fast as humanly possible, buttoning her dress back up and turning away from him with an inelegant cough as she attempts to hide what she’d already given Harry a long… LONG look at.

“I-I see. I was… I misunderstood. Of course, Draco knows better than to rock the boat. He and I had a long talk before coming to Hogwarts this year about what is and isn’t… a-appropriate behavior. I assure you, Professor Potter, he will continue to be one of your best students.”

… Sheesh, this was the woman that Tonks had been afraid would try and control the narrative? This was the woman she’d sold to him as dangerous because she’d ‘seduced Lucius Malfoy’? Harry rolls his eyes behind Narcissa’s back, as the Ancient Runes Professor finally finishes buttoning back up. Whirling back around, she tries in vain to regain some of her previous elegance and grace, sniffing delicately and looking at him with lidded eyes.

“Very well. What DO you want, precisely, Professor?”

Well… what he wanted when he entered the classroom and what he wanted now had actually changed. Because you didn’t experience a show like Lady Malfoy just put on without having a reaction, that was for sure. And yet… what did SHE want? Looking at her closely, Harry can see the embarrassment if he really stares. Hidden under the poorly feigned haughty indifference, Narcissa Malfoy is mortified. But more than that… is she disappointed?

He can’t help himself. Expecting him to ignore what she just tried to do is far too much. Taking a step forward towards the older woman, Harry gives her a curious smile.

“Never mind what I want, Professor. What do YOU want? Because you jumped to favors quite fast there. There were plenty of ways for you to handle Draco’s perceived indiscretions without you being quite so eager to indulge in an indiscretion of your own.”

Narcissa freezes in place, like a deer caught in headlights. Harry closes in on her, though he doesn’t get so close she couldn’t escape, if she wanted to. He stops just outside of her direct personal space, but definitely having entered ‘too close for comfort’ range, and hums.

“Well, Professor? If you need something from me… all you have to do is ask.”