Fantastic Boyfriends And How To Find Them Chapters 1 & 2. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Bukkake, Facefucking, Teasing.

Chapter 1

Daphne nervously tugged on her ill-fitting uniform. She hated the stiff navy blazer and pencil skirt. It, like a lot of things in the Ministry, was utterly impractical and ill-suited for someone who spent their entire day with Magical Creatures. Change was afoot, spearheaded by visionaries like the new Minister for Magic, but even someone as competent as Kingsley Shacklebolt couldn’t remove two decades' worth of rot overnight.

At least she only had to wear it for her quarterly reports with her boss. In the field, far away from the judgmental eyes of the Head of the Department for Magical Creatures, she preferred her usual fare of crop tops and tattered jeans.

“You can go in now,” the secretary said, opening the door to Theodore Carnby’s office by pressing a button under her desk.

Daphne stood, ready to dump her written report on the pompous man’s desk and make a quick exit. She had no desire to spend the rest of her day hearing far-fetched tales of him wrestling trolls into submission.

“My report,” Daphne said shortly, dumping the heavy file onto the large ornate desk. She looked at the portly man. He seemed like someone who had never left the comfort of his chair, let alone spent months in the mud taking care of endangered creatures who needed their aid. “The giants are all settled. They’re happy with their area of the forest and there have been no complaints or fights so far.”

“Good. Good. I didn’t see the need to deal with those savages… I mean, they chose the losing side, right? But when Harry Potter and Hermione Granger tell you to do something…” He let loose a long-suffering sigh. Taking orders from people decades younger than him should have been a humbling experience, but nothing seemed to affect the man and the delusional world he lived in.

“He defeated the Dark Lord, sir,” Daphne reminded him dryly, “You don’t ignore the request of such a man.”

Not if you want to keep your job.

And incompetent though he was, if there was one thing Theodore Carnby was good at, it was keeping his job.

Carnby snorted, clearly irked by her not-so-subtle taunt. “Well, I’m glad you feel that way, Greengrass. Because Potter has volunteered to be your protection detail for the next six months.”

Daphne’s smug expression melted away. “P-protection detail?” she stammered, her heart hammering in her chest.

“We’ve talked about this.”

“And I said no,” Daphne replied stubbornly. “I don’t need an Auror stomping around, mucking things up. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m afraid it’s not a request this time. The dragon smugglers you busted have dangerous friends. There’s a five hundred galleon bounty on your head. This comes from the Minister himself. Either you take Potter, or you stay right here in Britain,” Carnby said with a smile, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

I hope he fires your ass, Daphne thought sourly.

“Alright,” she muttered, massaging the bridge of her nose. “Can it be someone other than Potter? I mean, surely the man has something better to do than to trudge through the forests of Central Europe for the next six months.”

“As I said, he volunteered to do it. And like you said, we can’t really say no to the Boy-Who-Lived, can we?” Carnby leaned back in his chair, pleased. He had laid the trap, and she had walked right into it.

“We could try?” Daphne offered hopefully.

“Look, I know you have your issues with Potter given your… opposing ideologies,” Carnby leaned forward, adopting a serious expression that just made him look sillier. “But you need to make a good impression. Our department-” He paused, and Daphne knew he was really just talking about himself. “Our department might finally get the recognition it deserves.”

I joined the resistance while you were licking boots in the Ministry. It took all of her willpower not to scowl at him.

“Yeah… but sir… those opposing ideologies…” Daphne stammered. She seized on the excuse, not willing to let the man know her real reasons for not wanting Harry around.

“It’s already done, Greengrass. If you want to study those dragons, you take Potter along, and you make sure you make a good impression.” With that, she was dismissed, the man waving him out of his office.

---

How exactly does one go about seducing a man?

In all honesty, she probably had more important things to worry about. Like the fact that she was taking cover behind a fallen tree trunk in a bloody thunderstorm, trying to avoid the flashes of red and green whizzing over her head while Harry freaking Potter fought two smugglers to protect her stupid ass.

But thinking about that only turned her thoughts back to the man currently parrying the two thickset Hungarians without breaking a sweat. Her mind wandered from the way his biceps strained against the ridiculously small shirt she’d gotten for him after making him ditch his official Auror uniform to his gorgeous eyes to his lips and the way they felt every time he brushed them against her forehead for being a good girl.

Which she was. Often.

Fuck’s sake, I stopped smoking because he asked.

That alone should have gotten her a good hard railing every night during their month-long vacation in Naples.

Unfortunately, she had tried everything short of literally flinging her panties in his face. The man simply refused to take the hint.

When she’d first been assigned a bodyguard for protection by her boss, she had practically revolted and decided to smother the asshole they planned to send to babysit her. She didn’t need a babysitter. She was the most celebrated Magizoologist in all of Europe!

And then they insisted on sending Harry freaking Potter and she completely forgot about her plan. In fact, she completely forgot how to think, speak, or breathe. It was, after all, quite difficult to murder the man she’d been crushing on for the past five years of her life.

Unfortunately, the lack of a mother and an absent father had left her somewhat lacking in social skills, something that had earned her the rather unfair nickname: The Ice Queen. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to people. She didn’t know how to. She had joined his secret club, been one of three Slytherins to fight in the final battle for him against their own housemates, and yet she doubted he was even aware of her existence until he had apparently volunteered to babysit her as they traveled all over Europe.

This is why I stick to magical creatures.

They were simple. They had rules she could follow.

Annoy a dragon and you end up as his lunch.

Try to annoy your crush by shitting all over his cooking and he simply chuckles, ruffles your hair, and feeds you the (admittedly delicious) soup himself.

He was her boyfriend but he wasn’t her boyfriend and nothing she did seemed to change that.

She glanced at her clothes under the long transparent raincoat. She was wearing a low-cut tank top (no bra, the man could literally see her nipples poking through the thin wet fabric if he bothered to look!), a short skirt, and bloody heels. The only way she could bare more skin to him was if she turned up on their expeditions butt-naked.

And yet… nothing. If Tracey hadn’t supplied her with enough dirt about his legendary conquests to fill a mountain, she would have quite honestly suspected he preferred men.

What if you’re just not his type?

Gorgeous five-foot tall blondes with big boobs are every man’s type, Daphne reminded her brain.

A hand gently grasping her shoulder broke her free of her thoughts and she jumped, the pounding in her chest slowing down when she realized it was simply Harry bending to check on her.

“You alright?”

Daphne nodded, still too high-strung to speak.

“Y-you’re wet,” she rasped when she finally found her voice. He seemed to have lost his raincoat in the duel with the smugglers.

“I’ll live.”

I’m not sure I will, she thought as she tried to avoid staring at him. The white shirt clung to his body, every firm muscle standing out in stark contrast against the fabric. She gulped, extending a shaky hand to clamber to her feet.

She suppressed a shiver as his hands patted her body with clinical precision, checking for injuries.

“You’re not hurt?” He couldn’t find anything, and withdrew his hands. A bloody shame, if someone had thought to ask Daphne. No one did, so she kept her mouth shut.

Does an aching pussy count?

She shook her head.

“Alright.”

“What happened to the men?”

“Stunned and bound to a tree. They’ll come to in an hour or two. The German authorities can pick them up in the morning.”

“It was two against one.”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve had worse odds.” He didn’t say anything about their clasped hands. They’d been holding hands more and more often, which Daphne took to be a goodish sign.

The only problem was that if they continued at their current pace, she’d be eighty before he remembered that there was much more he could do to her than simply hold her hand.

She interlaced her fingers with his and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked through the now eerily quiet forest, trying to regain their bearings so they could return to their tent for the night.

“So, princess-” Daphne bit her lip at the nickname. “What lesson did we learn today?”

“Let the big bad Auror sort out all your problems?”

Harry snorted, drawing a giggle from her. His hold on her hand tightened, and Daphne suddenly realized they were characters straight out of the romance novels Tracey loved. She was the genius researcher in trouble, and he, the badass hero who metaphorically burst in at the last minute to save her ass.

Didn’t all those stories end with the two disappearing under blankets?

Right. If fate wouldn’t give it to her, she’d just have to craft her own happy ending.

“How about… When you have a five hundred galleon bounty on your head, don’t roam around without a wand?”

“I’m trying to raise awareness by showing it’s safe to approach dragons without them!”

“And while it’s admirable that you’re trying to stop the practice of stunning and hurting dragons, you need to be able to defend yourself, Fi.”

Daphne slapped his chest. “That’s your job.”

“A little help would be nice,” Harry teased back, finally relaxing as they walked past the wards around their tent. Their tent lay in the very middle of their clearing, protected from the rain and elements by charms. A fire roared in front of its opening, its warmth highly welcome after their experience in the forest.

“Wouldn’t be fair.” She reluctantly pulled her hand free from his and walked over to the fire. She peeled off her raincoat, draping it over the makeshift clothes rack next to the fire. “You’re Harry Potter. Those two thugs never stood a chance. I’ll join in when it’s ten to one.”

“You’re going to get me killed, woman.”

“Is that why you sent your replacement away and chose to stick around for another tour?” Daphne asked, sticking her tongue out at him.

“Honestly?” Harry responded, following her into the tent. “That was to avoid going to Chudley Canon matches with Ron. They’re winning this season and that alone is more terrifying than anything this forest throws at me.” He brushed his lips against her damp forehead, walking past her to the kitchen. “I’ll make some cocoa to warm us up.”

Daphne growled in frustration. She had literally started to undress in the middle of the tent, the strap of her tank top halfway down her arm and her breast seconds away from popping free, and he had simply walked away from her without so much as a glance.

Maybe smothering him in his sleep isn’t such a bad idea after all.

Or…

As she ran her fingers through her damp hair, she studied her outfit and came up with a much better idea.

She peeled off her drenched tank top and skirt, tossing them over to the couch. The frilly pink panties she had on, however, she pulled free and bunched up in her hand before slowly sauntering into the kitchen, her hips swaying as she tried her best to make a memorable entrance.

All for naught.

His back was to her as he fiddled with the tiny stove, setting a small pan on it to heat up milk for the cocoa he had promised.

Must. Not. Smother.

“Harry?” She leaned against the small wooden table that they used to eat their meals, draping herself over it as seductively as she possibly could. Her arms pushed against her torso, making her magnificent breasts pop even more than normal. Each creamy mound was topped by a large pink areola, her nipples rock-hard due to a combination of the cold and the semi-permanent state of arousal she seemed to be in around him. Her heels had a similar effect on her asscheeks, her firm ass raised up in the air for him to easily grab should he choose to do so. Her smoky gray eyes stared at the object of her affection with a seductive gaze, her pink lips curved in a pout that was half frustration and half unbridled desire.

“Yes?”

She tried not to scowl when he wouldn’t even turn around.

“You take care of me. You cook me meals, you keep me safe, you even carry me to bed every night I fall asleep reading on the couch…” Merlin, she hoped he would see where she was going with this.

“Just doing my job. I’m here to take care of you, princess,” Harry responded with a chuckle.

She wanted to slam her head onto the table. “I don’t think cuddling me every evening and staying up reading me stories all night because I was sad a baby dragon died are part of your job description, Potter,” Daphne replied tartly. “You basically do everything my boyfriend would but you’ve never tried to ask me out, why?”

A quiet chuckle escaped her lips when he fumbled, nearly dropping the entire can of cocoa into the pan of milk. “I didn’t… I just felt like I… I liked taking care of you,” he said softly, revealing much more of his feelings to the observant Slytherin than he had intended. “I didn’t mean to take Blaise’s place, sorry.”

“Blaise?” Daphne raised an eyebrow even though he couldn’t see her. This was new. What did Zabini have to do with his reluctance to sleep with her?

“Tracey told me you lost your virginity to him.”

Daphne sighed. Her best friend really needed to learn when to shut up. “So what, he now has a claim to me for the rest of my life?” Daphne challenged, frowning. Surely Harry didn’t believe in antiquated Pureblood notions like those?

“What? No! I just thought… I mean I thought Tracey brought it up as a warning to me. You know, keep your hands to yourself, she’s taken sort of a deal?”

Daphne rolled her eyes, slowly pushing herself up from the table. The position was uncomfortable and Harry seemed to be deliberately avoiding turning around to face her. Why were the two people she loved more than anyone else in the world such fucking idiots?

“Harry, half the castle rode the Zabini train. I’m pretty sure Granger punched a ticket once or twice when she came back to Hogwarts after the war. Does that mean she has feelings for him? No, she doesn’t. No girl in her right mind actually dates Zabini,” Daphne muttered, running a frustrated hand through her long blonde hair. “I didn’t want to graduate as a virgin, so I asked him.” She paused, suddenly feeling the need to clarify further. “It was a twenty-minute affair, in and out. A wholly unsatisfactory experience.”

“So… you’re not dating him?”

No, you dingbat! I have feelings for you! She wanted to scream it while whacking him on the head with a wooden spoon, but she settled for something milder, “No, Harry. I’m not dating him. If the choice was between dating him and pining after you…” Daphne took a deep breath. “I’d spend my life pining after you. Zabini fucked me as a favor because there was no way I was going to let the guy I actually liked… this super popular and nice man who has dated sexual goddesses like Ginny Weasley and Lavender Brown; who has Veelas lusting after him… well, I wasn’t going to let him… I thought he wouldn’t like me if I was a virgin after what I heard about his sexual escapades.”“Thought?”

“Now I know he’s a fucking sap who’d probably have taken my flower on a bed littered with rose petals and given me a night I’d treasure for the rest of my life.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.”

“God, you have no idea. The man is so thoughtful, I sometimes want to smother him in his sleep.” Daphne chuckled. “Seriously, you never made a move because of Blaise? Did you really think I’d try to seduce you if I had a boyfriend?”

“I… you were trying to seduce me?!”

Daphne walked over to him, leaning up to wrap her slender arms around his neck. She buried her face in his damp shirt, her large breasts squished against the firm muscles of his back. “No, Potter. All dragon handlers wear a mini-skirt and heels, not to mention a form-fitting tank top while taming dragons,” she said dryly.

“I…”

“No way! You really thought this was what I usually wore to work?!” Daphne giggled, gently kissing up his neck.

“The only dragon handler I knew before you was Charlie! He usually wore a shirt and leather pants but he’s a bloke now, isn’t he? It’s not like he’d wear this,” Harry muttered, sounding wounded.

Daphne shook her head and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Any other reasons why I’m not curled up in our bed with your cum leaking out of me, Potter?”

She grinned when he heard his breath hitch. Oh, he wanted her. Badly. He was just being his usual selfless idiot about it.

“I… I’m here to protect you, right? To provide a safe environment for you to continue your studies. I thought… I didn’t want to be disrespectful.”

Daphne suppressed the urge to snort. “You oblivious Gryffindor. Why the fuck did I have to fall in love with you…” She shook her head, reaching out and pushing her bunched-up panties in his hand. “Harry?”

“Yes, Fi?”

“Disrespect me.”

Chapter 2

Harry slowly turned around, his eyes widening as he took in the visage of the girl standing behind him, his heart hammering in his chest. “You’re uh… you’re…” Harry paused, his throat suddenly as dry as the Sahara.

Daphne had pulled away, standing in front of him without a stitch of clothing covering her body. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. She still wore her heels and her cute white stockings topped with pink bows, now wet and translucent. Her courage deserted her the moment she needed it the most and she stood there silently with her hands awkwardly clamped to her body, causing her heavy, tear-drop-shaped breasts to pop out even more. The creamy mounds were topped with large pink areolas, each capped with a stiff rosy peak, the hardened nubs betraying her arousal.

“Daphne…” Harry whispered, breathing heavily. His eyes roved from her long, golden tresses, beautiful even when they were completely soaked, to her round pink cheeks, down to her large breasts, taking in the inches of unblemished alabaster skin. He didn’t say anything else. Perhaps he couldn’t say anything else.

In desperation, Daphne did the only thing she could think of. She kissed him. She closed the distance between them and shyly pressed her lips against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. She stayed that way, letting Harry choose between pushing her away or taking the lead, fervently praying that he’d choose the latter.

Her prayers were answered seconds later when Harry growled and cupped her cheeks, swiping his tongue against her pink lips and begging for entry. She complied without hesitation, moaning softly as their tongues dueled, the man plundering and claiming what he’d been pining after for so long.

She pulled away after a minute, gasping for breath and with a huge, giddy smile on her face. Sometimes, she reminded herself, one simply had to get naked and snog the living daylights out of their slightly dense Gryffindor crush.

Harry’s hand grasped her shoulders and gently pushed her down to her knees. Now, one didn’t have to be a sex goddess to know that was the universal sign that a man wanted his dick in your mouth and he wanted it there post-haste. So Daphne deftly undid the button of his pants and pulled them down his legs, before hooking her fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down as well, letting them both pool around his ankles. She watched as he stepped out of them and kicked them away, leaning against the counter and calmly waiting for her to take the lead.

It took her a minute to truly comprehend the size of the semi-erect cock that sprung free. For a few seconds, she simply stared at his throbbing manhood, taking in the veins crisscrossing its length and terminating at his tip, already glistening with the precum coating it.

“I… Uhm… I held back for another reason. There’s this problem, you see,” Harry stammered, uncharacteristically shy for once.

Daphne tilted her head up to look at her crush, her stormy gray eyes sparkling playfully. “You know, Potter, huge dicks are usually considered a good thing,” she teased with a grin.

“Usually?”

“Well, even the mightiest of instruments are wasted when unimaginative bores wield them.” Daphne wrapped her hands around his shaft, her slender fingers barely managing to envelop his massive girth. She slowly began to pump, coaxing the cock to grow to its full size. “Are you an unimaginative bore, Potter?”

“Why are you calling me Potter?”

“What would you prefer I call you?” Daphne asked, biting her lower lip and blinking innocently at him. “Harry? Sir?” She grinned when his cock twitched. “You’re not an unimaginative bore, are you, sir?” She asked, kissing along his length, leaving pink lip prints on his skin in her wake. “Oh no, this frustrated blonde has heard all sorts of stories…”

“Daphne…” Harry groaned, gritting his teeth, trying admirably not to give in to the sinful temptation kneeling in front of him.

“So, what’s the problem?” Daphne asked, keeping her eyes locked with his as she poked her tongue out, swirling it around his tip to lap up the salty precum flooding out of it.

“I was… I was at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes a few days before we were due to leave for our trip…” Harry whispered, grabbing the kitchen countertop, his knuckles white. “I was seeing one of Fleur’s cousins who was in town at the time. That woman was… she was bloody insatiable. I mentioned my problem to George and he… uhm, George said he had a potion for me to try. I drank it,” Harry admitted.

Daphne paused in her worship of his cock, looking up at her lover incredulously. “Weasley handed you a potion without telling you what it was and you quaffed it?”

“In his defense, he started to tell me what it was after handing it to me, I was just distracted by the miniature firebolts they now have for sale and drank it without listening. Plus, he said it would solve my problem,” Harry replied sheepishly.

Daphne groaned and reached out around him, playfully smacking his ass.

“Hey!”

“That’s for drinking something George Weasley hands you without making sure you know exactly what it is! I swear, I should be the one doing the spanking around here,” Daphne groused, pouting at Harry. “So we can’t fuck because… what? You turn into a pigeon when you cum?”

“What? No!” Harry frowned. “He named the potion, ‘The Three Cum Dump’. It’s designed for couples who enjoy uh… longer sessions. Whenever I get an erection it doesn’t go away until I cum three times. And I cum, Daphne. I cum a lot.”

Daphne couldn’t help it. She giggled, the giggle turning into full-blown laughter that had her leaning against his legs for support, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Hey! The potion was supposed to last a fortnight but George messed up and it didn’t wear off,” Harry said, sounding aggrieved. “He finally came up with an antidote but it was a bitch to make so I was waiting until we got back to take it. To make sure it didn’t get misplaced or damaged along the way.”

Daphne pulled away, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Sir… Harry… that’s not a bad thing. At least, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. You can fuck me three times every night,” she teased, an impish grin on her face. “And you can cum in me, on me, and around me as much as you want,” she added, gently blowing on his sensitive tip. He shivered, his quiet moan turning into a not-so-quiet groan as she wrapped her lips around his cock and slowly started to go down on him, swallowing as much of his length as she could.

With that, the dam finally broke. Harry buried his hands in her hair, his nails gently scraping against her scalp as he threaded his fingers through her golden locks. He gently coaxed her to swallow inch after inch, pausing only when his tip hit the back of her throat, the inexperienced girl gagging and drooling around his length.

Harry slowly pulled her free, his eyes fixed on the gentle quiver of her heavy breasts as she panted. “How do you want me to take you, love?” Harry asked, gently caressing her pink cheek with his finger.

“This isn’t how you fucked your Veela paramour when you were with her, did you, sir? Take me like one of your French girls, Harry,” Daphne whispered, a determined expression on her face.

“You sure, princess?”

“What, can’t handle a repeat performance, Potter? Don’t tell me you’re chickening out,” Daphne shot back.

Harry knew she was goading him, but a part of him couldn’t help but take the bait. “There are far better things you can do with your mouth than talk shit, Greengrass,” Harry growled, pushing her back down on his cock. This time he mercilessly pushed his length down her throat, using his hold on her hair to push her down until her face was buried in his crotch.

Daphne closed her eyes, her mind blissfully drifting off to its happy place even as she choked and drooled, her glistening pink lips stretched around the massive girth. Thick trails of saliva leaked out of the corners of her lips and trickled down to her chin, finally splashing against her heaving breasts.

Harry began to time the thrusting of his hips in time with the bobbing of her head, pushing in her just as he pulled her head down towards his crotch. Daphne was helpless against the assault, simply grabbing his thighs for support as her lover fucked her face. She was a mess, her skin glistening with drool and the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mascara, which had held up so admirably in the rain, finally started to wash away with her tears, leaving thick black trails down her cheeks that contrasted perfectly with her pale skin.

Harry plunged into her throat, groaning quietly as her moans caused her walls to flutter around his length, clamping down on it in a futile effort to trap it in place.

“Look at me, Fi,” Harry ordered, gently caressing her hair even as he kept up his ruthless thrusting.

Daphne shivered at the nickname. It was special, unique, and utterly adorable. Her gray eyes slowly traveled up to look at him, drawing strength from the proud expression on his face.

She was his princess. She was his Fi. And she’d be damned if she couldn’t learn to be his messy cumslut.

Despite her lungs burning for lack of air, she focused on the shaft plunging into her mouth even as her eyes stayed locked with his, unwavering. She tilted her neck as much as she could, giving him a clear view of her ruined face and letting him see exactly what he was doing to his pretty little princess.

After weeks in the forests of Germany with no sex and no wanking, Harry was already on a hair trigger. Her innocent expression, which contrasted perfectly with her drool, tear, and mascara-stained face and pink lips glistening with precum and wrapped obscenely around his cock was the final straw for the frustrated man.

Harry exploded in her mouth with a loud groan, instinctively pushing her down until her nose was buried in his crotch, shooting ropes of cum down her throat. He pulled her away when she choked, but he was nowhere close to finishing. He leaned against the countertop, his hand grabbing the base of his shaft to guide his tip to her face.

Daphne instinctively closed her eyes as the first rope of thick, warm seed splashed against her nose. She grinned, sticking out her tongue and angling her face to ensure his cum ended up in her mouth or on her face. The girl swallowed valiantly, but it was far too much for her, with her mouth filled to the brim and cum leaking out from her parted lips, running down to her chin and splattering against her breasts and thighs. Her face was coated with the sticky white liquid and Harry shifted focus to her hair, drenching it with his cum even as he grabbed her shoulder, pushing her down on the carpet on her back.

He circled around the tired girl, letting loose first on her breasts and finally her belly, painting her with his seed like he was Da Vinci and she, his Mona Lisa. Her entire body from head to waist was covered with dollops and ropes of his cum while Daphne lay unmoving, happy to be his muse and enjoying the attention (and cum) he lavished on her.

Spent, Harry collapsed by his feet, breathing heavily. His cock was still rock-hard, throbbing as it recovered from his orgasm. “I’ll uhm… get you a bowl or something to spit in,” Harry murmured, more aroused than he had ever been in his entire life.

“Good girls swallow,” Daphne said thickly, savoring the taste of the warm, salty cum in her mouth before slowly swallowing.

“Are you a good girl, Daphne Greengrass?”

“Only for you,” Daphne whispered. The two lapsed into silence, simply enjoying each other's company.

“What’s on your mind?” Daphne asked quietly after a minute, suddenly worried he was regretting sleeping with her. Post-nut clarity was a bitch, or so Tracey said. Did he think they weren’t compatible with each other now that he was no longer consumed by lust?

“I’m wondering why I waited so bloody long to get with you. I’ve had a crush on you for months now,” Harry whispered, gently pushing her legs apart. He trailed a finger up her leg, slowly traveling closer and closer to her glistening slit.

Daphne laughed, shaking her head at the admission. “I’ve had a crush on you since our bloody fifth year, Potter. You were just too hung up on Cho Chang to notice,” Daphne growled. “And after that… well, I guess it’s my fault for falling for an oblivious Gryffindor who didn’t pick up on romantic signals even when they hit him in the face.”

“What’d you mean?”

Daphne snorted. “You really think it was an accident that my breasts brushed against your arms and face so many times while you were teaching me how to duel, Harry?” Daphne spread her legs, inviting his fingers (or something bigger) to claim her wet, needy pussy.

“I honestly thought you were clumsy.” Harry chuckled, slowly climbing to his feet. “Come on. I’ll get you cleaned up and tucked in bed,” he offered, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He glanced at his throbbing manhood, reminding himself that her comfort was far more important than his needs, and that he could easily wank a couple of times in the shower before bed, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Daphne sighed. Oblivious as ever. She raised her arms blindly in his direction, silently asking him to help her up. “Sir?”

“Yes, Fi?”

“Disrespect me some more.”

Notes:

An old short story, now unlocked for everyone! As always, Harry and Daphne are a joy to write in any setting. But this particular setting, with Harry being the Action Hero and Daphne the frustrated Academician was extra fun. If you thought this chapter was hot... the final chapter of Harry 'disrespecting' Daphne will be even hotter and will be out tomorrow for Pumpkin Spice Latte tiers and above!