The Grass Is Always Greener Chapter 16. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: DP, Gags, Blindfold, Teasing, Butt Plugs, Lactation.

Daphne was floating.

Harry had wrapped a black satin blindfold around her eyes, the soft fabric gently sliding against her skin with every inadvertent bob of her head. She could hear the gentle buzz of a spell being cast, his wand tapping at the base of the dildo she had her pink lips around, and suddenly the taste of rubber was replaced by that of skin and precum, and his familiar scent of wood polish and ash flooded her nostrils.

She was his princess and he was firmly in control, but she had no intention of giving up so easily.

“Oh mhy gohd!” Daphne whined, wriggling in place. “Dhaddhy!” Even the tiniest of movements caused his tip to brush against her G-Spot, sending currents up her spine. She was half out of her mind with lust, the coil in her belly tightening with every passing second. Yet, even as she drooled around the dildo and begged her dominant for release, she was denied.

Harry stayed sheathed inside her, whistling happily as he undid her ponytail and carefully parted her long golden hair into pigtails. She wondered if she looked as innocent as she felt. All those years fighting to protect Tracey and Tori, of schemes and politics and fear… and here she was. Finally free. Harry would take care of her. And like Tracey and Tori, she would protect the love of her life.

“Is anal a limit for you, darling?” Harry asked, playfully tugging on her hair.

Daphne paused. Every Etiquette Matron she’d ever had had taught her that her job was to lie on her back, have perfectly unsatisfying boring sex, and pop out babies. Good Pureblood girls never did something as crass as taking it up the ass, even for their husbands. Things of those nature were reserved for mistresses and prostitutes.

Fuck. That.

Her (future) husband would have no need for a mistress, nor would she allow Harry one. Her bed was all he’d ever need.

“Nho,” she declared, sounding far more confident than she felt. She’d seen his cock. If she could barely take him like this, she had a pretty good idea what it’d do to her tight little asshole. She braced herself for him to pull out of her, only to blink in confusion under her blindfold as Harry waved his wand. Something whizzed past her, landing in his free hand with a THUD.

Harry unscrewed the jar of lube before dunking the buttplug inside, coating the shiny metal with a generous layer of the lube. He spread her asscheeks, teasing her puckered sphincter with the tip of his pinky.

“You wouldn’t believe the stash of magazines of the more… risqué variety that my cousin hides under his bed. I wanted to learn more, so when I chanced upon a book titled ‘Sex and Magic’ during an accidental detour to Knockturn… Well, I picked it up,” Harry murmured, gently pushing the plug inside her tight ass.

“Mherlin,” Daphne groaned, only for further words to be cut off as Harry moved his free hand to the back of her head, gently forcing her down on the dildo. He didn’t pause when she gagged this time, instead pushing past the resistance and making her swallow the dildo up to its hilt even as he stuffed her ass.

“A collaring ceremony is a binding ritual, kitten. I’m supposed to mark you,” Harry explained. How much she heard, he did not know. Under the blindfold her eyes were glazed over, her mind blank save for the raw pleasure and pain consuming her every thought. “Usually the collar itself serves as a mark, but since we didn’t have a special one… well, I improvised.” Harry grinned. Her ass had bounced back into place, her pert cheeks jiggling slightly. Between the two round mounds, a bright red Ruby poked out, with the initials ‘H.P.’ engraved on it in gold. He’d bought it on a whim and promised himself he’d give it to the first woman he truly loved, convinced he’d never actually use it.

“All your holes are mine, Miss Greengrass,” Harry hissed, tugging on the leash to pull her free off the dildo. Her Slytherin heart, body, and soul was his, claimed forever by a Gryffindor. “Do you submit?”

Daphne was a mess. Drool coated her lips and trailed down to her chin. Her nipples, stiff pink nubs hardened and throbbing with arousal were leaking a steady stream of milk, coating her alabaster skin with the delicious liquid. Despite her position, despite her brain screaming at her to give in to him, her lips curled into a teasing smile. She was a creature of habit, and she just couldn’t help herself. “Make me,” she rasped, the brat in her alive and ready to play.

Harry simply rested his palm against the back of her head, silently pushing her back down on the dildo once more. Daphne responded by bobbing her head up and down, tracing and caressing every vein etched on the toy with her tongue. Her pink lips, coated with her own saliva, gleamed in the dim candlelight illuminating their bed.

She playfully wiggled her ass, groaning as his tip brushed against her G-Spot again.

Harry growled and tugged on her leash once more, pulling her up flush against his chest. “You’re a fucking tease, kitten.” His hand moved to grab a breast, his fingers sinking into the soft skin. He massaged the creamy mound, carefully milking it and releasing the pressure that had been building up all day.

“Well, daddy,” Daphne moaned, “if you were man enough to just fuck your girlfriend the way you want to instead of holding back because you’re afraid of offending her, we could go to bed with my pretty pink lips wrapped around your cock,” Daphne said innocently.

She was going to build back the confidence her boyfriend’s asshole relatives had taken from him, one mind-blowing railing at a time.

“Do you know how this ends, Greengrass?”

“Oh no! Have I been naughty? Am I a bad girl?” Daphne grinned. “Bet you don’t have the heart to punish your prin-”

She didn’t get to finish. Harry pushed two fingers into her mouth, stuffing it and gagging her just as effectively as the dildo.

“Suck,” he ordered, lazily rocking his hips, slowly pulling out of her tight pussy until only his tip remained in her, before ramming back in. The force of every thrust caused her to bounce on his lap, her heavy breasts swaying and jiggling as the girl moaned deliriously.

Harry pinched the nipple he was massaging and twisted it harshly, drawing out a muffled scream from Daphne. “Suck,” Harry ordered again, gently caressing the stinging and flushed peak.

Fuck.

Momentarily cowed, Daphne obediently began to suck on his fingers, moaning softly as the lazy pace of his fucking caused the pressure in her belly to slowly build up. One of her hands grabbed his arm for balance, the other moving to her clit. She began to caress the sensitive bundle with feather-light strokes, shuddering as waves of pleasure coursed through her body.

Harry grunted and picked up the pace, his thick length sliding in and out of her slick core with an ever increasing pace. Her walls burned and ached as they were stretched by his throbbing manhood, still unused to accommodating something as massive as his cock. His hand soon joined hers on her clit, but he didn’t push her fingers away. Instead, they worked in tandem, with Harry pinching the nub in between her caresses, her pleasure now interspersed with delicious jolts of pain.

Pleasure and Pain. Harry and her. Gryffindor and Slytherin. All yin and yang.

“Do you submit?”

“Mhake me!” Daphne cried out as Harry grazed her clit with his nail. A single tear leaked out from under the blindfold, tracing a lonely path down her red cheek.

“You’re mine,” Harry growled, his breath hot on her skin. He trapped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged, causing another muffled cry to escape her lips. He was, by now, pounding in and out of her gushing pussy mercilessly, her body a vessel for their pleasure. “Do you submit?”

“Mhake me…” Daphne mumbled weakly, her vision darkening underneath the blindfold. The all-consuming orgasm building up inside her threatened to sweep her away, but she summoned the last of her strength, using it to goad her boyfriend into letting down his walls completely.

Harry gritted his teeth, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay for as long as possible. He pinched and flicked her clit, giving his little masochist the final push she needed to tumble over the edge.

Daphne cried out as he pushed deep into her belly, coming undone without warning. She squirted, a flood of her juices coating his cock and thighs, and soaking the sheets below them. Her walls clamped down around his girth, trying to milk him for his cum with every thrust inside her aching pussy. He lasted a few more seconds before he too tumbled over the edge, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he came with a needy groan, filling her womb with his seed.

                                                           ---

As she slowly stirred back to consciousness, Daphne realized three things. Her entire body was pleasantly achy, she was collared, and she was warm, clean and wrapped safely in Harry’s arms. She shifted, resting her cheek against the warm skin of his chest, letting the steady beat of his heartbeat lull her back to sleep.

“Daddy?” she called out quietly, a cute yawn escaping her lips.

“Yes, princess?” Harry mumbled, half asleep himself.

“I submit.”

                                                       ---

Harry gazed out at the lake, his brow furrowed. The calm, glittering expanse of blue held foreboding secrets if the information in the books Hermione had dug up from the library were true. The kind and loving Giant Squid wasn’t it's only inhabitant.

“You think Daphne and Tracey will have any more luck than we did?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Harry muttered, moodily kicking a rock. Skeeter’s articles against them were failing to generate the buzz she wanted (The castle was, understandably, somewhat bored with the couple after months of weekly stories). Besides, there were better sources of gossip, and Fred, George, and Tracey had taken to cooking up the most ludicrous tales for the castle rumor mill. He was particularly fond of the latest one where he and Daphne supposedly went back in time and had their secret love child, who they then named Fudge. A less happy by-product of people’s fatigue about their relationship was Skeeter switching targets and going after their sensitive friend. Along with her latest article about them, she had run an ‘expose’ on Hagrid, outing him as a half-giant. “Hagrid refused to even see us.”

“Maybe tough love from Daphne and Tracey is just what he needs.” Hermione sighed. “Skeeter is getting out of hand, Harry. I mean, going after you and Daphne was one thing. We all had a laugh about her ludicrous stories, even if one of them did give your girlfriend’s parents a fright.”

“I still can’t believe they bought that pile of dragon dung.”

“You two were uh… pretty exposed in that picture,” Neville mumbled, his cheeks pink.

“As amusing as that was… Outing Hagrid’s secret was going too far.”

“What all is rumored to be in there?” Harry asked, changing the topic without turning back to look at his best friend. While he wholeheartedly agreed with her, his solution of tossing Skeeter off the Astronomy Tower had been vetoed by both Hermione and Daphne, both of whom pointed out that there were less conspicuous ways to deal with the reporter. So, for now, he reluctantly concentrated on the task.

Hermione peered into the tiny scrawl penned onto parchment that had turned yellow with age long before any of them had even been born. “Uh, merfolk, grindylows, murtlaps for sure. There are rumors of a shrake colony, but I doubt that’s true. It says a siren made the lake her home for some time in the 1800s…”

“What’s a shrake?” Neville asked, poring through a book himself. He thought he had an answer to Harry’s biggest problem, but he wanted to make sure he had all the details on the weed in question before he presented it to his friend.

Harry shrugged. He picked up a stone and tossed it, watching it skip across the water. Nothing about the Task sat well with him. The lake, the hour-long deadline, the potential loss of that which was most dear to him… “I don’t care what it is, Neville. I just need to know if it’ll try to stop me from finishing the Task. I have no intention of losing that which is most precious to me,” Harry muttered, scowling at the body of water. It remained unchanged, unmoved by the ire directed at it.

“What is most precious to you?” Hermione asked, a small smile on her face. She lazily sheafed through the pages of the book, trying to dig up more information on shrakes.

“Daphne,” Harry murmured without thinking. His neck turned red the second his brain registered what he’d said, and he quickly corrected himself. “Uh… Firebolt. Firebolt,” he repeated, clearing his throat.

“Is he griping about his broom being ruined after being submerged in water for an hour again?” Daphne asked, carefully limping down to where they sat with Tracey following close behind her.

Tracey paused when she reached the aged oak tree at the shores of the lake, flopping down on the dew covered grass next to Neville. She leaned back against the trunk, resting her head on Neville’s shoulder without hesitation. “Whatcha reading?”

“Trying to figure out a way to help Harry breathe underwater for an hour,” Neville murmured, resting his head against Tracey’s. The vivacious girl had become something of a surrogate sister to him, taking him under her wing and helping him come out of his shell. He’d even stopped shaking in Potions classes, which he considered a huge personal milestone.

“Any luck?”

“I found something…”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming, Longbottom.”

“Getting it is going to be a bloody pain.”

“We’ll empty my trust fund if we have to, Neville. Find a seller for whatever it is,” Daphne ordered, walking up to Harry. She rested her head on his shoulder and gently grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers together. They stayed quiet for a minute, silently enjoying the orange sun disappearing beneath the purpling waters of the lake.

“Nothing will happen to your broom, darling,” Daphne whispered, turning to kiss his shoulder. “And even if something does happen, I’ll personally make sure Dumbledore replaces it. Okay?”

“I’m not worried about the broom,” Harry murmured, squeezing her hand. As much as he loved his Firebolt, he could easily live without it. “What if that’s not what they take from me? What if I have to seek and retrieve something else?”

Someone else?

Daphne chuckled. “I went through your chest this morning to find a shirt that would fit me, Harry. What could be more precious to you than your broomstick?”

Harry stayed silent.

He wasn’t sure he could live without Daphne Greengrass.

“It’s insane. This task is insane,” Hermione growled, tossing her book away in disgust. “Lose it forever? What if the thing is some priceless family heirloom?”

“Neville? Tell me about whatever it is that you’ve found,” Harry interjected, trying to steer conversation away from them trying to figure out what would be taken from him. He’d lose his mind with worry if he kept thinking about it.

“Uh… it’s a weed. Creatively named Gillyweed. It’s typically used to make antidotes for Talafsa venom, but take enough of it, and you can breathe underwater for an hour. Like I said, the problem is getting it.”

“And I told you money isn’t a problem, Longbottom,” Daphne replied in a low growl.

“You’re right. Money isn’t an issue,” Neville said calmly, completely unfazed by Daphne’s anger. He knew the frustrated girl would never hurt him, and that it wasn’t even real anger, only worry for the man she loved. He and Tracey exchanged looks. “The problem is that Gillyweed is highly regulated and controlled. You’re going to have a hell of a time finding a buyer and getting it delivered in time. The task is in a week.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get it.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“Well, we could break into Snape’s stores.” Tracey shrugged when everyone whirled to look at her. “Look, I’m not saying it’s the smartest decision, but doesn’t the man boast that he has every possible potion-making ingredient in his personal stores? I bet he has Gillyweed too.”

“For argument’s sake, let’s say he doesn’t. Or maybe he does, but it’s not enough,” Hermione pointed out. “What then?”

“Don’t worry. I have a backup. We’ll have enough of it,” Daphne repeated, a determined expression on her face.

When Harry turned to her with a raised eyebrow, she grinned. “Do you know how the Greengrasses made their fortune? Potion-making. That’s the family business Harry,” she explained, kissing his cheek. “And sometimes we have to get ingredients we need through… less than legal ways. Father will know someone, I’m sure.”

“I’m surprised Potter didn’t know about the Potions business. Doesn’t your family pay a shit ton of royalties to him for his grandfather’s hair potion?” Tracey asked.

Daphne frowned. “Yeah. We do. It’s one of our biggest sellers. You never noticed the royalties in your ledger?”

“Royalties? Ledger?” Harry asked, completely confused by now.

Daphne’s frown deepened, but she shrugged it off and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “You and I are going to have a very busy summer, sir,” she whispered as she pulled away.

Harry groaned, the sultry voice causing his sore cock to twitch. Two rounds the night before and another three spread out over the day, and he still didn’t feel satiated. A look, an innocent smile, her biting her lower lip was seemingly all it took.

“What does the Gillyweed do, Neville?” Harry asked, mostly to distract himself from how enticing Daphne’s lips looked in the dying light of the sun.

“It gives you gills.”

“It’ll turn me into a fish?!”

“What? No. You’ll still be human. Just a human with… gills. The gills disappear when the magic wears off.”

“Okay, good. So that’s sorted.”

“We should-” Hermione started, only to be cut off by Harry.

“What happened with Hagrid?” Harry asked, knowing his best friend wanted to discuss the rest of the clue, and wanting to stave her off before she could bring it up again.

“He didn’t open the door for us,” Daphne replied, copying her boyfriend’s actions and skipping a stone across the water.

“So we threatened to blow it up.” Tracey shrugged when Daphne looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, I threatened to blow it up. He opened the door to scold us and we barged in before we could close it.”

“And?” Harry asked.

“He said he didn’t teach today’s Care of Magical Creatures class because he was ashamed,” Daphne said. “That people would judge him for who his mother was.”

“At which point I pointed to Daphne.” Tracey pointed at the collar adorning Daphne’s neck. “And I told him I had a kinky bitch as my best friend.”

Harry glanced at Daphne’s neck. “You’re wearing it.”

Daphne grinned and nodded. She had hated taking it off the day, but not wishing to give Skeeter any more ammunition and lacking a discreet alternative, she had no choice but to keep it in her pocket, rubbing it ever so often to reassure herself that everything that had happened was real. Not that she needed to. Something else in her was a constant reminder that Harry Potter now claimed her, heart, body, and soul. “I wore it on the way to Hagrid’s.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “The other thing… that I haven’t removed since you put it back in after our shower,” she whispered, kissing Harry’s jaw.

“Before these two get nauseatingly romantic,” Hermione said briskly, ignoring the glares from Harry and Daphne, “do you mind telling me what exactly does their sex life have to do with Hagrid hiding in his hut?”

“You don’t hate your friends and family for being different.” Tracey shrugged. “Now, me? I’m as vanilla as a vanilla bean. Doesn’t mean I judge Daphne. She’s my best friend. I love her. I’m proud of her for being true to herself. I told Hagrid to be true to himself and be proud of who his mother was. His real friends will be right by his side.”

“Did it work?” Harry asked, trying to hide a smile.

“I think the shock of hearing Tracey be sensible for the first time in her life made him agree to come back to teaching. Hagrid isn’t going anywhere.”

Tracey scowled and flicked a small pebble at Daphne. “Fi?”

“Yes, dearest?”

“Fuck off.”

Notes:

The AU elements keep building. The bond is going to have a huge part to play in the future, as will Daphne and Harry's family histories. As for the next chapter, it will be the Second Task. I love that Harry now has a bigger circle of friends who play a more active role in helping him, instead of the gillyweed being a deux ex machina. If you'd like to discuss the story or ask me questions, consider joining my Discord Server! The Invite Link is pinned at the top!