Knight Takes Rose Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Spanking, Body Worship, Toys, Teasing, Cum Play, Costumes.

“Well, this isn’t ominous at all.”

Rose stared at the imposing black door in front of her. She took a deep breath, her eyes nervously scanning the golden ‘three’ etched into the wooden door. The dim blue ambience lighting was doing her no favors and she wanted to get out of it but every other door in the hallway was closed and likely occupied. Her only options were to return to the dance floor and admit defeat in front of that smug concierge or through the door in front of her and into the unknown.

It wasn’t like the man standing behind her was any help either. His hand was still in hers and he had made no attempt to pull it free or walk away, but he wasn’t doing anything to take the lead. She didn’t have to look back at him to know he had an amused smile on his face or the fact that he was watching her with curious eyes, eager to see what she would do.

It was almost a test, and she hadn’t failed a single test in her life. She wasn’t about to start now.

She took another deep breath to steady her nerves, forcing her mind to focus on anything other than the impossible hot man standing behind her. She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The view that greeted her pushed Harry out of her thoughts without any conscious effort on her part.

She had no idea what to expect from the playroom but she hadn’t expected a bedroom half the size of the flat she shared with Dominique. The horrible blue light from the hallway was thankfully absent. Instead, the room was illuminated by candles placed in strategic locations or floating in the air, suffusing the room with a dim yellow light.

“Fireplace.” Rose pointed at the ornate brass grill. She pulled out her wand and set the logs inside on fire, filling the room with much-needed light and warmth. “Sadly there doesn’t seem to be any hot chocolate.”

“We can order room service.” Harry’s chest rumbled with suppressed laughter as he pointed at the rope hanging above the nightstand next to the bed.

His action drew her attention to the bed and she sucked in a shaky breath. The bed was huge, covered with red sheets made from the softest cotton. The four wooden bed posts had what she could only describe as stainless steel manacles dangling from them.

“Is this where you bring new Auror trainees to haze them?” Rose asked, biting her lip. She ran her fingers over the cold steel of the manacle, resisting the urge to see how they’d feel around her wrist.

“What makes you say that?”

Rose held up the cuff in her hand silently.

“If that’s the case why did Daphne take Dominique to a hazing room?”

“I was just trying to make a joke,” Rose mumbled, her cheeks burning. She knew what the room was for, but trying to pretend otherwise seemed easier than accepting the fact that she had loudly announced her intention to spend the night with Harry Potter in a sex dungeon. “I know it’s a sex dungeon.”

“It’s not… we don’t call it that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like that word.”

“Sex?” Rose raised an eyebrow. That seemed awfully prudish, especially when coming from a man who liked to bring girls to a room that had whips neatly arranged on racks above the bed. She climbed onto the bed, the soft mattress sinking under her knees as she made her way to the wall.

“Dungeon. I rescued your mother from a troll in one of them back in our Hogwarts days.”

“Yeah, I really don’t think we should be talking about her while we’re here.”

“Funny you should say that considering what I know about her and Lu-”

“Are you trying to get me out of here?” Rose looked back at him with a stubborn glare. Was Dominique wrong? Did he want that woman and not her? “Because that’s the only way you’ll manage to do it.”

“I don’t want you out of here but do you really want to stay here with me?”

“I don’t see a problem with that.”

“Most of my dates who have no experience with this lifestyle don’t exactly start with a night in a playroom, Rose.”

“I thought I only had to date you if you beat me in Quidditch. We’re not dating.”

“What are we, then?”

Rose shrugged. “Dunno. But we’re not dating, which means your usual protocols don’t hold. Thus, there’s nothing wrong with us starting with a night in a playroom.”

Harry looked at her with a strange look on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She could have sworn he was blushing, although the dim orange light made it hard to tell.

“And who said I have no experience in this lifestyle?” Rose challenged.

Why she felt the need to make that claim, she didn’t know. Maybe she just wanted someone to see her as more than the studious kid sitting in one corner of the classroom for the first time in her life. Maybe she just wanted what Dominique and Victorie had. She decided not to think about it too much.

“I’ve been whipped by several of my boyfriends,” she lied, resting her hand on one of the whips that looked less scary than the others.

“That’s not a whip. That’s a flogger.”

Rose tried and failed to stop the blush on her freckled cheeks. “Potato. Pohtato. I’ll have you know I’ve been flogged many times.”

“Have you?”

“Mhm.”

He was walking towards her with a crooked smile on his face and she suddenly forgot how to breathe. He paused when his feet hit the bed, towering over her.

“Where?” Harry asked, reaching out to pluck the flogger from the rack.

Where?!

Fuck, is this how Hugo feels when he turns up to every test unprepared?!

“Uh-” she racked her brain, finally coming up with what she thought was a logical answer “-my bum. All my boyfriends thought it was my best feature.”

“I think it’s your eyes. They’re gorgeous,” Harry whispered, slowly running the flogger down her body. The soft leather tickled her skin and she shivered as it brushed against her breast on its way down to her hips. “Your ass is pretty great too. How many can you take per cheek with this?”

She jumped when he lightly and playfully smacked her side with the flogger. Her wide eyes studied the toy, trying to figure out a safe answer.

It didn’t look as scary as the thick whips that had braids of black leather but she could instinctively feel her poor bum would suffer for days if she was subjected to it by an experienced hand.

A little help? she prodded the voice in her head that was suspiciously silent.

What, now you want my help bagging your DILF? None of this would’ve happened if you had spread your legs in the bar.

Gah!

She glanced at the flogger again and took a deep breath.

“T-ten?”

“Per cheek?”

“Yes, sir,” Rose squeaked.

“That’s pretty harsh.”

“I’m a bad, bad girl that needs to be regularly punished, sir.”

“Is that so?” Harry quirked an eyebrow. “And what did these boyfriends of yours do after such a harsh punishment?”

“Remind me that I’m a bad, bad girl, sir.”

“I see. Care for another wager, Miss Weasley?”

“O-okay.” Anything that changed the topic away from her nonexistent experience with getting flogged was highly welcome.

“If you last ten flogs per cheek with this I’ll spend the night with you in this playroom. If not, we go back to the dance floor and finish our dance.” He used the flogger to point to a desk set against the wall. “I’ll bend you over that and the spanks will be over your jeans, not your bare bottom. You can stop me at any time by saying pineapple. Do we have a bet?”

Don’t say yes, don’t say yes, don’t say-

“Yes.”

Before she could process what was happening he had taken her hand and was leading her to the wooden desk. He pressed his palm on her back, gently applying pressure until she draped herself over the polished wood. Her legs were spread and her bent waist meant her ass was automatically raised in the air for him. She turned her head and rested her cheek on the cool wood.

“Brace yourself.”

That obviously meant something but she had no idea what, so she simply gripped the edges of the desk as hard as she could. Her knuckles turned white and she tensed, waiting for the first blow. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bring herself to look at him or the terrible implement in his hands.

Harry raised his arm and brought the flogger down on her ass, smacking it gently.

“Alright!” she screamed, although it hadn’t hurt at all. “I’ve never had a proper boyfriend, I haven’t been flogged before and I have no idea what men like about my body because nobody has ever commented on it! Please don’t flog me ten times!”

“Ten times per cheek,” Harry reminded her gently.

“Definitely don’t do that!” She was close to tears and she hated herself for that. “Please?” she added in a quiet voice.

Harry dropped the flogger onto the desk and grabbed her shoulders, gently helping her stand.

“You don’t have to come back to the dance floor with me. You can spend the night here with What’s-Her-Name,” Rose mumbled.

Harry silently took her hand and led her to the couch in front of the fireplace, pulling her onto his lap. He wrapped an arm around her waist, trapping her in place and preventing her from leaving.

“You don’t have to lecture me. I know now that I’m not like Dominique or Victorie no matter how much I pretend or how many lies I tell,” Rose muttered, angrily wiping the tears leaking out of her eyes.

“Why do you want to be like them?”

“They’re happy.”

“And you’re not?” Harry asked gently.

“I don’t know. I’ve achieved everything I wanted to in life, I have a wonderful family, what else do I need? I know I’m supposed to be happy.”

“That isn’t the same as being happy. If your heart says that something is missing, you’d be wise to listen to it.”

“Even if it means going against everything you think is right? Even if it means disappointing… you don’t know what it’s like to live with-”

“Trust me, I know. I’m the only one who knows,” Harry said softly.

“Right.” Rose rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his chest. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

“Darling, I knew you were lying the minute you picked up that flogger,” Harry said with a quiet chuckle.

“If you knew why did you make that bet?”

“Because you were making a big mistake,” Harry murmured. His long finger gently stroked her spine and she shivered in his arms.

“Yeah.” Rose snorted. “Ten flogs per cheek. What was I thinking?”

“Not that. You can lie to the world, even to the people you love, but lying to yourself is dangerous. I wanted you to understand that.”

“I understand.” Rose gathered her courage and pressed her lips against his shirt, kissing his chest right over his heart. “You’re really wise.”

“With age comes wisdom.”

“That’s not always true,” Rose countered.

“Well, it was definitely the case with me. Do you know I described my first kiss as… wet?” Harry shuddered.

Rose squashed the unexpected pang of jealousy.

“Who was it with?”

“Cho Chang.”

“The coach for the Holyhead Harpies?”

“The very same. She was a year above me in Hogwarts.”

And is now happily married with two children, she reminded herself.

She settled back against his chest. “Why did you call it wet?”

“She was crying. It was a bad relationship from the start and both of us were lying to ourselves and to each other. Doesn’t matter. We look back at that horrible kiss and laugh now.”

“Will you describe our first kiss as wet too?” Her cheeks were wet, her eyes bloodshot, and her lipstick was smudged. She was certainly the unsexiest woman to ever grace one of these rooms.

Harry looked down at her with an inscrutable expression. “I think I’ll call it perfect.”

And then his lips were on hers for a gentle kiss that made her forget all her worries. She timidly pressed against his body, groaning at the playful nip to her lower lip. His tongue darted past her parted lips and coaxed hers into a playful duel. She stayed frozen in place even after he pulled away for air, her bruised and swollen lips curled into a goofy smile.

“Yeah. It was perfect,” she whispered without opening her eyes.

“Do you want to go back to the dance floor?” Harry asked as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Rose shook her head and slowly opened her eyes, half afraid that she would wake up and realize the entire thing had just been a dream.

“Do you want me to resume the flogging?” Harry teased.

“Maybe one day,” Rose replied with a giggle.

The man in front of her was a paradox. How could anyone be so perfect?

“Can you keep teaching me?”

“What do you want to learn?”

“Everything. I can tell you the names and uses of a hundred medicinal herbs but you are the first one to actually teach me something that can’t be taught through books,” Rose confessed with a shrug.

Whether it was life advice or the proper use of whips, as long as he was the one doing the teaching, she wanted to learn.

“I think I’ll resume the life lessons over our hot chocolate dates. For now… take off my shirt.”

Rose stared at him blankly.

“Go on. You’ve been staring at my chest all night. I know you’re the smartest girl in the building and your imagination is perfect but don’t you want to see the real thing?” Harry teased with a grin.

Rose gulped and nodded. She reached out with trembling fingers and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Her cheeks grew warmer with every inch of tanned skin that was exposed and spontaneous combustion was a concern again. She could only stare at his muscles with wide eyes when he rolled his shoulders to shrug off the shirt.

Harry leaned back against the couch, letting the redhead take in his bare torso.

“So many scars,” Rose whispered. She reached out and tenderly traced the pale marks standing out against his tanned skin. “From the war?”

“Some of them. I’ve had an interesting life.”

“Why do you keep them?”

“So I don’t forget my past,” Harry murmured. “You’re not the first girl to think they’re ugly but I keep them because they’re a part of me.”

“I don’t think they’re ugly. They’re like notes in a book. They make you better.” She leaned in and gently kissed the three biggest scars she could see. “I don’t think you should do anything about them as long as they don’t hurt,” she murmured against his skin.

“Phantom pain. Sometimes.”

“I’ll give you a potion. Dab it on your scars every night for a month. The phantom pain will go away.”

“I’ll probably forget.”

“Then I’ll do it for you.”

“Every night?” Harry asked with a grin.

“A Healer takes care of all her patients, sir. Even the ones who don’t listen to instructions,” Rose said haughtily.

“What if this patient wants you to apply the potion with your lips?”

“Every night?” Rose asked, an extremely undignified squeak escaping her lips.

“Every night.”

“A healer also takes into consideration her patient’s wishes.”

“What if it’s something she’s not particularly skilled in?”

“Then she’ll practice again and again until she’s confident enough to do it.”

“Then you better get to it, Miss Weasley.”

Rose grinned, more than happy to walk into the trap he had laid. She slowly kissed down his chest, pressing her soft lips against every scar she could find. Her smile grew at the quiet hiss that escaped his lips when she playfully nipped at his tiny nipple on his way down to his abdomen.

“I don’t think politicians are allowed to be this hot, sir,” she teased, tracing the outline of his abs.

“I’m an accidental politician.”

“How so?”

“Nobody else wanted the job,” Harry explained with a wink.

Rose giggled and slipped off his lap, lowering herself on the soft carpet covering the floor. She settled on her knees and resumed her kissing, her lips following the trail of hair that led downward and disappeared into the waistband of his trousers.

She paused when her lips brushed against the cold metal of the button holding his pants together and looked up at him for permission.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked softly.

It was sweet, how much he cared for her comfort. But she had played safe all her life. For once, she wanted to dive right into the deep end and see how it felt.

“Do you have more scars?”

“I do.”

“Then I think it’s important I practice on them too,” Rose demanded with an impish smile.

Harry stood and towered over her, giving her complete freedom of action. She could go as fast or as slow as she wanted. It took her a few tries but she slipped the button free and tugged on the zipper, letting his trousers pool around his ankles.

“So big.” She stared at the massive tent in his boxers with wide brown eyes. She wasn’t an idiot and she wasn’t a prude, and she had more than enough knowledge when it came to dicks. At the very least she knew enough to know that the one in front of her was larger than average. Much larger.

“An unfortunate side effect of spending a lot of time in close proximity with a beautiful woman,” Harry teased.

Rose stared at him blankly.

“You, Rose. That’s because of you.”

“Oh.” She blushed and her fingers dug into the waistband of his green boxers, eager to see the reaction she had caused. Harry grabbed her wrists, stopping her from going any further.

“Not yet,” he murmured, using his grasp on her wrists to pull her to her feet. “You wanted to spend the night in this room. The least you can do is explore it fully.”

“You’re a weird teacher.”

“We all have our methods. Door to the bathroom,” Harry said, nodding to the shut door she was looking at.

Rose walked past the cross with the leather straps for wrists and ankles and the various clear-doored cabinets that held a bewildering variety of toys and equipment and paused in front of another piece of furniture.

“This is a strange couch,” Rose murmured as she caressed the red leather.

“That’s a spanking horse,” Harry said, the amusement evident in his voice.

Rose hastily withdrew her hand. Given her recent experience with spanking, she didn’t think it was wise to stick around that particular piece of furniture. She moved to the tall wooden cupboard and pulled it open, studying the various dresses hanging inside.

“Slutty costumes, if I was to guess?”

“Yep. For private use but you can also take them out into the club in case you forget it’s a themed night.”

Rose grinned as she pulled out an extremely inappropriate version of her Healer’s uniform. She held it against her body and whirled around to model it for Harry.

“Maybe I’ll wear this when I apply the potion every night,” she whispered, her smile growing when the tent in his boxers twitched. The white blouse had only the bottom three buttons, which meant her tits would basically be on display. The red skirt was so short that it would struggle to cover her bum. “Oh look! They didn’t forget the cap!” She fished out the white cap and set it on her head.

“Do you want me to wear the rest of the uniform now too, sir?”

Harry exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yes,” he whispered hoarsely, unable to pull his eyes away from the playful but innocent redhead in front of him.

“Turn around.”

“Why?”

“I’m the Healer, you’re the patient. It’s my job to instruct and yours to follow said instructions.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned around. He walked over to the cabinet and pulled open the top drawer, busying himself with studying its contents while she changed.

“You know, you’re far too bratty for someone who’s this scared of a proper spanking.”

“It’s not a punishment if I’m not afraid of it, right?” Rose asked as she stripped out of her clothes. She debated on keeping her bra and underwear but ultimately decided against it, deciding not to half-arse the costume she was putting on for him.

“Impeccable logic. But I want you to know I’ll never do anything you explicitly say no to.”

“Limits, right?” Rose asked, trying to fit her tits into the blouse. She had somehow inherited a perfect mixture of Weasley and Granger genes and was unexpectedly curvy for her petite frame. “A good partner always respects them.”

“How do you know what they are?”

“Girls talk. Juniper kneed her date’s dick when he tried to stick it somewhere she had told him not to,” Rose explained, wiggling her hips to pull the skirt up her thighs.

“Good for Juniper. But yes. I’ll never do anything unless I know that you’re okay with it.”

“I trust you.” Rose wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his bare shoulder. “If nothing else works out we always have gobstones,” Rose murmured as she stared at the silver balls in the drawer.

“They’re not gobstones, my adorable flower. They’re Ben Wa balls.”

“Kink thing?” Rose asked, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Any more displays of her inexperience and she was certain he’d make her walk around with a giant ‘virgin’ sign around her neck.

“Kink thing,” Harry confirmed with a chuckle.

“What’re they used for?”

“Can I show you?”

“Yes,” Rose whispered, shivering with excitement.

Harry’s breath hitched as he turned around. Rose stood in front of him with the white cap precariously balanced on her fiery curls. She was looking at him with big brown eyes and her red lips were curved into an adorable pout. His eyes traveled lower, taking in her perfect breasts and the way they strained against the tight, semi-transparent blouse with every breath. Her stiff pink nubs poked through the white fabric, begging for attention.

He grabbed her shoulder and reluctantly turned her around, immediately regretting giving up such a sight.

“Do you remember your safeword?” Harry asked, kicking her legs apart. He locked his ankles around hers, trapping her legs in place.

“Pineapple, sir,” Rose replied, clutching the arm wrapped around her waist. She went cross-eyed to look at the cold silver ball pressed against her lips.

“Open,” Harry ordered quietly.

She obliged immediately and followed his instructions without question, sucking on the balls like she could a lollipop.

“Seems like there’s something better I could be sucking on, sir,” she murmured, highly aware of his erection pressing into her firm ass.

“That’s not what the balls are for. I needed you to warm them up. The saliva also acts as a lubricant.”

Harry’s hand disappeared between her thighs and her eyes widened. She moaned loudly as the slick balls pressed against her lips. The gentle pressure split them apart and gave him access to her dripping core.

“Harry?!” Rose asked in a panicked whisper as she felt him slide the balls into her tight, virgin pussy.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Rose shut her eyes and focused on his presence. Her breathing slowed and the panic slowly subsided.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

His hand withdrew and gravity kicked in. The balls dropped but her lips had closed, trapping them in place.

“I-oh!” Rose groaned as the pair of balls jostled inside her, stretching her tight walls.

“Still want to spend the night with me?”

“Yes, sir,” Rose breathed.

“Then you need to tell Dominique so she doesn’t worry. She’ll be in room six with Daphne.”

“What?” Rose blinked. “She won’t worry! She won’t even notice I’m gone!”

“Rose.”

The stern voice caused a trickle of wetness to leak out of her. It flowed down her thigh, leaving slick, gleaming skin in its wake.

“Yes, sir.”

Cowed by his stern warning she slowly slipped out of his grasp and made her way to the door. Only it wasn’t as simple as she had thought it would be. The balls in her jostled and vibrated with every step, causing involuntary loud moans to escape her lips as she walked.

“H-Harry?”

“They’re enchanted. If you walk slowly, they vibrate. If you walk fast, they vibrate.”

“What’s the right speed?!” Rose asked. She had to stop halfway across the room. She clamped her thighs together and rubbed them, desperate for some friction to accompany the delicious torture of the balls inside her.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Rose wasn’t sure how she managed to stumble out of the room and make it down the hallway, but she was sweating and barely holding in her moans by the time she made it to the door that had ‘six’ engraved on it.

She rapped her knuckles against the door, desperate for release.

“The pizza’s here… oh.” Dominique didn’t open the door entirely, looking at Rose through a small crack with a huge grin. “It’s not the pizza. Just a poor girl getting tortured,” Dominique teased, ignoring Rose’s glare.

“Very funny,” Rose muttered through gritted teeth.

“Having a fun time?”

“You set me up!”

“I don’t see any proof that you’re regretting it.” Dominique made a show of staring at Rose’s costume.

“Like you’re any better,” Rose hissed. “You’re wearing fuzzy black cat ears.”

“You want to see the rest of my costume?”

“No! I just need you to know that I’m with Harry and I don’t want you to worry,” Rose got out before biting her lip to stop another moan from escaping.

“Have fun!” Dominique winked and shut the door.

By the time she made it back to their room, Rose was in tears. She collapsed in Harry’s arms, her eyes silently begging him for release from her pleasurable torment.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” Harry ordered quietly, supporting her limp body with an arm wrapped around her waist.

“Sir, please!” Rose whined.

“Rose.”

Rose obediently did as she was instructed.

Harry’s free hand disappeared between her parted thighs. Expert fingers split her plump lips, letting the balls drop into his waiting palm. He kept one in his hand but held the other between his thumb and index finger, rolling the slick ball across her tongue and coating it with her own tangy arousal. He did it again and again until she had licked the ball clean.

“Swallow.”

Rose pulled her tongue inside and shut her mouth. She slowly swallowed the arousal she had gathered, the taboo nature of the act causing another gush of wetness to leak out of her.

Harry nodded approvingly and pushed the ball between her breasts, trapping it in the valley between her large, creamy mounds.

“Open.”

Rose stuck her tongue out again and Harry repeated his actions, making her clean the second ball before pushing it between her breasts.

His hand disappeared between her thighs again and her freckled cheeks turned red when he started to caress her wet thighs. He slowly made his way to her slick folds, drawing out her torture.

“Why are you so wet, Miss Weasley?” Harry asked, caressing the lips guarding her core.

“Because of you,” Rose whispered, her cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

“Who do you belong to, Miss Weasley?”

His fingers ignored her aching pussy and made their way to the sensitive nub that had been neglected till now. Harry gently caressed her clit, tracing patterns on it with feather-light touches.

“Y-you, sir,” Rose moaned. Her knees buckled and her vision darkened as the coil in the pit of her belly tightened. It would explode any second but she instinctively knew what she needed to do before that happened. “Can I cum, please?”

“Yes, you can. Good girl,” Harry whispered as he massaged her clit.

The praise finally pushed her over the edge. She came undone with a scream, her wetness gushing out of her and coating his hand up to his wrist. She collapsed against Harry, breathing heavily as she rode out her orgasm.

“Still want to spend the rest of the night with me?” Harry asked teasingly as he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed bridal style.

Rose was too tired to answer but if she had it her way, she would be spending every night of the rest of their lives with him.

                                                                                          ---

Epilogue:

Rose stomped up the stairs leading to Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and slammed open the door, brushing past a surprised and slightly alarmed Kreacher.

“Would mistress be needing something?”

“Nothing you can give, Kreacher!” Rose yelled as she climbed up the stairs two at a time. She turned right when she reached the first floor and walked until she reached the half-ajar door at the end of the hallway.

She pushed it open completely and swept into the cozy room, ditching her bag by the doorway. She ignored the bespectacled man silently poring over a piece of yellowed parchment and made her way to the couch behind his chair, flopping onto it face first.

“Hard day?” Harry asked without looking up from the treaty he was reading.

“What gave it away?” Rose turned to face the fire merrily burning behind the grate and extended her hands to warm them. “Was it the stomping or was it the fact that I disturbed you while you were doing important Minister things?”

“You never disturb me, darling. And to be quite honest I could do with a break from having to understand this treaty.” Harry leaned back in his chair with a sigh. He took off his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the onset of a very unwelcome headache. “What happened?”

“Your friend hates me.”

“I have a lot of them. You’ll have to be more specific, love.”

“You know which one,” Rose grumbled as brushed off a random piece of goat liver stuck to her coat. “Nobody in class could brew Bartholomew’s Concoction perfectly but I was the only one who had to stay back until I got it right.”

Harry chuckled.

“It’s not funny! I swear, she doesn’t like the fact that I’m with you and she’s taking it out on me.”

“I’m pretty sure Daphne has always demanded perfection from you. She does it because she sees potential in you, Rose. You’re just projecting Ron’s reaction on her.”

Rose groaned. Out of all the things she didn’t need to be reminded of, her father was first on the list.

“Maybe,” she muttered, rubbing her palms against her cold, red cheeks. “I don’t expect him to accept us like mum did but he doesn’t have to be such a prat about it.”

“Give him time. He’ll get over it.”

“He still hasn’t gone to visit Aunt Ginny and Dean because he disapproves of them for reasons neither mum nor I have ever understood.”

“Let me finish. Eventually. He’ll get over us eventually. Now, as for your Daphne dilemma, do you need me to have a chat with her?”

“Absolutely not. I’m not going to have anyone think I became a Healer because I’m the Minister’s perfect flower.”

“Oh, you’re my flower, are you?”

“Perfect flower.”

“Well, my perfect flower, if you don’t need me to talk to her, what do you need?”

“I need three orgasms and a-”

She was interrupted by Harry leaning over the edge of the couch, holding out a steaming mug of hot chocolate for her. He helped her sit up with his free hand and brushed his lips against her forehead.

“Finish this and go get changed, then I’ll see what I can do about that other thing,” Harry whispered. He withdrew with a quick kiss on her cheek, leaving the mug in her hands.

Rose sipped on the hot chocolate and watched her boyfriend clean up the mess on his desk with a small smile.

Her cousin could be insufferable at times but Victorie Weasley had gotten one thing right. Having a-

“We still need to finish our game from last night.”

Harry’s voice broke her free from her thoughts.

“You’re just saying that because you want to win our bet. My poor bum,” Rose said, pretending to sniffle. “You know it’s checkmate in one move.”

“Is it?” Harry asked, feigning ignorance.

“Knight takes Queen. Checkmate.”

Notes:

I hadn't planned to release the second part of the story so soon but my eyes are still watering like hell and it's hard to look at a screen. This was the chapter I had fully edited, so I released it instead of following my schedule, I hope you enjoyed it! Writing Harry and Rose was so much fun it was really difficult to limit this story to two chapters, especially since I usually don't get to write light-hearted romcoms like this one! I plan to revisit this ship in the future and I'll probably use my time-traveling idea and a few suggestions from you for the story!