Yule Ball Redux Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Semi-Public Play, Teasing.

They entered the ballroom together with pink faces and sheepish smiles, drawing several curious glances and one satisfied smirk. Parvati smiled nervously as they walked past Lavender, only to receive a wink in response.

Parvati suspected even Lavender hadn’t expected her plan to succeed this easily, and if she was being honest, she was surprised by the turn the night had taken. When he’d accompanied her to the bathroom, she’d expected the night to end in a polite kiss and perhaps an offer to take her out on a date.

Instead, she’d decided to push her luck and refused his offer to use a spell to dry and scourgify her dress, claiming it would ruin the fabric (which was true), and that she was done for the night anyways (which wasn’t).

Their little tryst in the stall had left her wanting more than ever for the man to bend her over any flat surface he could find and rail her till her soul left her body.

Yet, despite the growing frustration after they’d exited the stall not long after the person had left and entirely soon in her opinion, she realized that they had been inches from being caught, and ending up on the front page of the Daily Prophet with her tits out wasn’t exactly the best way to start the new academic term.

So, she had accepted his offer to keep his blazer, picking it off the sink and pulling it on, trying not to smile like an absolute idiot when he took her hand and led her out of the bathroom. She expected him to pull away, or at least let go when they reached the main hall, but he simply continued to walk with her around the edge of the dance floor, either blind or impervious to the looks they were generating.

She knew what the implications of what they looked like were, well aware of the fact that despite the sad lack of tits and railing, they’d still end up on the front page of the next edition of the Daily Prophet.

“Here,” she whispered as they walked out of the hall and into the quiet hallway, moving to take off his blazer.

“Keep it. It’s cold outside and you’re wet.”

You have no fucking clue how right you are Mr. Potter.

He’d hadn’t let go of her hand, still running distracted circles on her palm with his thumb. He didn’t seem to want to let her go, and yet, appeared unable to ask her to stay. The shyness made him even more endearing.

“Want a private tour of the castle before you start? A lot’s changed since you were last there.”

“I’d love to.”

Lavender Brown, I love you.

They walked in silence down the hallway, Parvati moving closer and resting her head against his shoulder.

“Did you keep Professor Trewlaney’s attic?” he asked, pressing the button to call the lift.

“I did,” she replied, “Got rid of all the blankets and the fireplace. Changed it quite a bit-”

Her voice trailed off as she froze in horror at the sight of the couple inside the lift. She allowed Harry to pull her out of the way, smiling nervously at Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas. The man looked as dapper as ever in his tuxedo and bow tie, but the woman on his arm was, for lack of a better description, drop-dead gorgeous. Her emerald ballgown fit her like a glove, accentuating her slender figure and fiery hair. The plunging neckline teased and drew attention to the woman without being too revealing.

Fuck.

“Hey, Harry.”

What was that look on her face? Confusion? Anger? Relief?

Why did she look relieved?

“I’ll uh-I’ll wait for you inside the hall.”

Smart move, Dean Thomas.

Ginny Weasley’s explosive outbursts were legendary. At least the Daily Prophet would have a great story for their front page.

“Finally asked her out, did ya, you big goof?” She grinned, punching Harry’s free arm.

“I-” the man stammered, his face completely pink.

Finally?

“I’m happy for you two. Treat her right Potter. Bring her to the Burrow for Christmas dinner!” She turned to look at her, “You’ll love it. It’s a madhouse.”

“He didn’t ask me out.”

Great work, Parvati. You meet your date’s infinitely more gorgeous ex-wife, the voice in her head snarked, and that’s the first thing you think to say?

“How-” Ginny glanced at their interlocked hands, then at Parvati’s head still on Harry’s shoulder. “She asked you out,” she surmised with a chuckle, “Merlin, Potter, stare longingly and pine after a girl for three years and she has to make the first move. Men,” she rolled her eyes, directing the last word at Parvati who chuckled nervously in response. “Anyways, you two have a good night. Harry, don’t be too shy. Parvati, I hope the Divination classroom still has those pillows lying around.”

With one last chuckle, she slipped around the two of them, and Parvati was left wondering about the strange relationship Harry Potter had with his ex-wife.

“Uhm- I- What-” She turned to look up at him, his face redder than she thought was physically possible.

“Ginny and I still care about each other very much. Our divorce was mutual and amicable. We just realized very early on in our marriage that there was no real love or chemistry.”

“Why stay married for three years?”

Why pine after me for those same three years with no hint, indication, or action?

“We didn’t want to break her mother’s heart. After George, it really seemed like she could do with every bit of happiness she could hold on to. After a while, we just grew comfortable with our arrangement.”

She nodded, trying to digest his words as the lift carried them up to the atrium.

“Why break it off?” she asked as they walked out into the deserted atrium, the golden statues glowing dimly in the darkness.

“We realized we were both holding each other back from what we truly wanted.”

“Which was Dean Thomas and-”

“You,” Harry finished her sentence.

“Three years is a long time not to say anything,” she said softly, pausing by the fireplaces. She had no intention of going anywhere until he had clarified things.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Guess some things never change.” She chuckled before her face grew serious. “What do you really want? With me? This?” She pulled away, placing a finger on his chest, her dark eyes flashing a warning, “And I suggest you take your ex-wife’s advice and not beat around the bush, Mr. Potter.”

“Do you remember the party we had in the ruins of the Great Hall? A month after… everything?”

Everything. After the burials, the goodbyes, and the physical healing. She doubted any of them had healed mentally even now, three years after the war.

“Hagrid got drunk and flipped the teacher’s table? Yeah, I remember.” It was a good memory. She just didn’t understand why he was bringing it up.

“Lavender was just sitting in a corner, and you refused to leave her side. I don’t know how, but you managed to convince her to dance with you. The two of you were in the middle of the floor, dancing like nobody was watching, and I just-”

“Just what?”

“Wanted you. Wanted to dance with you. I don't know, it’s hard to explain. I thought it was just some random thing, that it’d pass. I was with Ginny, thinking about you that way was wrong, but it didn’t pass.”

“What do you like about me?”

Merlin, she wished she had a camera to photograph the gobsmacked expression on his face.

Didn’t expect that question, did you?

“Your tenacity. The way you always look out for your best friend-”

“That’s a two-way street,” she cut in.

“I gathered. The way you look after all your students. Neville can’t stop talking about how every student in the castle loves you. How your door is open for every lost soul looking for answers. Your eyes-”

“My eyes?” She took a step closer to him.

“Your eyes. I feel like if I look into them long enough, I’ll lose myself forever. Your smile. Your hair. There’s uh… there’s a lot I like about you.”

“Feels good now that it's out in the open, doesn’t it?” she whispered, leaning up, getting as close to his ear as she could. “Now that we’ve all understood the importance of frankness Mr. Potter, do you want to tell me what you want to do to me?”

His hands were back on her, fingers digging into her slender waist. She had to admit, it felt nice. More than nice. It felt natural.

He was pulling her closer, and she gave in, her head back against his chest. His hand was in her hair, pulling her ebony tresses from their elaborate hairdo.

She could feel his heartbeat speed up as he cleared his throat, and she was quite certain the bulge she could feel pressing into her leg was not his wand. She closed her eyes, enjoying the effect she was having on him, waiting for his answer. The ball was in his court, and she let Fate take the reigns.

“I want to-” He cleared his throat again. “I want to peel off this soiled dress. I want to pin you down, take you, claim you, and ravish you. I want to make you scream my name,” he finished, his voice husky.

“Do you want me to be your perfect little kitten?” She moved her hand to his crotch, grinning at the surprised groan it elicited.

“I-how-Yes.”

“Then, Mr. Potter, you should take me back to Hogwarts-” She was tugging on the fly of his trousers, pulling it down. She slipped her hand inside his pants and gently grabbed his cock, grinning into his chest when he groaned. “Before a reporter catches me polishing your wand right here in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic.”