January 2024 Exclusive Poll Winner - Number 3 Privet Drive - Harry/Tracey (Patreon)

AN: Hogwarts starts at 13, making the characters 18 here.

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Everything was too neat and organised here. Tracey Davis sighed, her breath misting up against the car window. Leaving her home behind had been difficult, but she’d at least held out hope that she and her parents would be moving to some place she could learn to love too. From the perfectly symmetrical hedges to the bland houses and the one-note flowerbeds that sat in front of each house, everything was lacking in joy and creativity. It was the last place Tracey wanted to call home.

Unfortunately, there was no helping it. She couldn’t blame her parents for the move, regardless of how much she wanted to. Now that everyone knew for certain that the Dark Lord was alive and staking a claim on Britain again, violence against blood traitors would return. They couldn’t stay in their previous home. They needed to find somewhere safe to live where no one would be able to find them.

“It looks nice, doesn’t it, sweetie?” Her mum smiled brightly at her as she craned her neck around to look at Tracey in the back of the car. For a moment, Tracey saw the striking resemblance between them that everyone commented on. They both had long, chestnut-brown hair, the same tiny nose, and matching smiles. The only difference really was their eyes. She had her father’s eyes.

Tracey managed a grimace. “It seems alright,” she managed to say before she quickly turned her head back so that she could stare out the window again.

“I’m sure that once we get settled in, you’ll see how nice living here can be,” her dad added to the conversation as he smoothly turned the steering wheel. It still surprised Tracey to learn that her father knew how to drive. Sure, he was a muggleborn, but he’d lived in the wizarding world all of his adult life. Given the fact that he’d married a pure-blood witch, Tracey had assumed he’d left his muggle side behind him. “It’s nice to be back in a suburb again.”

Maybe it was for him, but the longer they drove through here, the more depressed Tracey became. Where were all of the wonderful things that made the world shine brightly? Where were the magical creatures living their lives? Where was Old Man Jenkins and his collection of fireworks he shot off every summer? Where were the children chasing around toys that were transfigured into fun animals? Where was the joy?

There were a few people out and about, true, but all of them looked wrong. Middle-aged women standing in their front gardens with too-perfect smiles on their faces and old men with too much pride on their faces as they made sure to thoroughly clean the hood ornaments on their fancy cars. It all seemed so fake.

Maybe that was just how things were in the muggle world, but Tracey discarded that thought in a second. She’d seen new muggleborn students at Hogwarts before, and none of them were like the people she’d seen here. 

Tracey decided that this place was strange, even for muggle places.

The car made its final turn into a driveway in front of a boxy house that practically mirrored those on either side of it. It was a yellow-and-brown-brick, two-storey building with an attached garage and a little number sign beside the door.

“Welcome to Number 3 Privet Drive,” her dad announced cheerfully. “Everything is already set up inside. I know it’ll be an adjustment having to hide our magic around here, but it’s not all bad. We’ll all be used to it before you know it!”

Merlin, she hoped not. This wasn’t the type of place she wanted burned into her memory like her old house was. She still had a little over a couple months until she was back at Hogwarts, so hopefully she’d be back there before it happened.

Just as she was getting out of the car, Tracey noticed something peculiar. It was perhaps the very first oddity she’d noticed since arriving in this too-perfect suburb: a man was laying down in a flower bed.

“And last, we have an update on the mysterious attack in Brighton last week…” a voice faintly trickled out through the opened window above the man’s head. It must have been from a radio or a television—at least, if her dad was telling the truth about those strange-sounding devices. The man’s head lifted ever so slightly as he tried to listen closer to what was being said.

But there her mum had to come and ruin the moment. 

Tracey hadn’t heard her step out of the car either, nor had she noticed her following Tracey’s gaze to the man in the flower bed.

“Hello there,” her mum said cheerfully. “We must be your new neighbours.”

The man jolted up in surprise like he hadn’t noticed the car’s arrival moments ago. Perhaps he’d thought himself obscured from sight, which he would have been to any passersby. The large hydrangea bush had obscured most of his head from sight, but the instant he turned around to face them, Tracey recognised him.

Harry Potter brushed a stray bit of dirt off of his hair and gave Tracey and her mum a welcoming smile. “Hello there, I’m—” his voice froze as his eyes narrowed on Tracey. His eyes flashed with recognition, and it was like a storm cloud had set itself directly above his head.

Her mum gasped. “You’re Harry Potter.”

Potter looked torn between cursing the world and cursing them. He suddenly jumped to his feet, turned, and hurried back inside. Shouting ensued inside of Number 4 Privet Drive as the door slammed shut, but Tracey was too surprised to pick up on anything being said.

“You moved us next door to Harry Bloody Potter?” Tracey said aloud, flabbergasted. A flare of anger rose through her. They’d left her home behind for nothing! Moving into the house beside one of the Dark Lord’s most notorious enemies wasn’t any way to lay low; it was practically suicide. 

“Well, we certainly didn’t intend—” her mother began to say, but Tracey wasn’t having any of it. 

She brushed past her mum and stormed up to the house as her father finished pulling suitcases out of the boot of the car. He called after her, but she ignored him and threw open the door.

The house was too pristine and trying too hard to be perfect. It was wrong, and Tracey hated it.

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He was out there again doing yardwork. It annoyed Tracey that her new bedroom’s window had a perfect view of the back garden next door. If she ever sat at her desk, it was inevitable that she’d glance up and spot Harry Potter’s moping face.

Honestly, she’d be moping around too if she had to do all of that work without the help of magic. Tracey didn’t know why he was bothering to do it at all. She’d seen him pass over the same patch of dirt three times in the last week picking weeds—or, at least, pretending to. It seemed more like busy work than anything actually productive, and it was getting on her nerves.

Her parents didn’t seem to take her problems seriously either. While they weren’t thrilled to be moved next door to one of the Dark Lord’s primary enemies, Headmaster Dumbledore had assured them that they’d be safe here. Apparently, there was some sort of protection on Potter’s house that extended far enough to keep them safe too. That was enough to satisfy them that they’d be safe.

But Tracey didn’t trust Dumbledore. There’d been enough oddities and inconsistencies over the years at Hogwarts that she was sceptical that the old man really knew what safe meant. As long as they were next to Potter, she and her family were in danger. And she had to spend all day watching him trudge through his back garden like he was living out a prison sentence.

Surely his life couldn’t be that bad. Potter was just being dramatic, as per usual.

“Tracey!” Her mum called out from downstairs.

With a groan, Tracey hoisted herself up from her desk chair and opened up her bedroom door.

“Yes, mum?” Tracey called back, not bothering to disguise the annoyance in her tone.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get the reaction she’d been hoping for. Her parents were being far too understanding about her mood given the drastic change in lifestyle that came with moving to a muggle neighbourhood. They just pretended like they didn’t hear her sass and moved on as usual.

“Could you run down to the shops and pick us up milk and flour?” Her mum replied. “I’ve left some money on the counter.”

That was another thing that annoyed her: they didn’t have a house-elf who could get groceries for them. So, they had to go to the shops themselves and use these silly little coins and paper money to pay for everything.

As much as Tracey didn’t want to go, it would at least save her from having to look at Potter’s stupid face for a while. Besides, without magic, it wasn’t like there was anything better for her to do. Her parents wouldn’t even let her send any owls to her friends until nighttime when they were less likely to be noticed.

“Fine,” Tracey sighed dramatically.

“Thank you!”

Tracey quickly changed out of her robes and into more muggle-appropriate clothing. This was one of the things she actually didn’t mind about living in a muggle neighbourhood. Muggle fashion had long since begun infiltrating magical fashion, so she was used to some of the styles she’d seen on muggle women.

She threw on some blue denim shorts and a form-fitting white crop top and brushed back her wavy, brown hair before she headed downstairs. She grabbed the unfamiliar coins off of the kitchen table and hurried out of the front door.

Surprisingly, the weather was quite warm for Surrey. Tracey sighed contently as the sun’s warm rays washed over her, making her feel nice and refreshed. She’d been keeping herself cooped up inside to avoid Potter, so it was nice to finally be back outside again.

However, her joy turned to disappointment when she heard shouting from next door. It was a common enough occurrence by now that Tracey didn’t pay it much mind, but what caused her disappointment was when the front door to Number 4 Privet Drive was thrown open and Potter came storming outside. He didn’t even seem to notice Tracey until he was on the pavement beside her.

Tracey sneered at him, but to her surprise, Potter barely reacted. There were no disgusted looks, no sharp remarks. His expression was blank, like he couldn’t be bothered with another fight.

For a second, a part of Tracey felt bad for him. But then she remembered just who was standing in front of her.

“Out of my way, Potter,” she muttered as she brushed past him.

She made it three steps away before he snapped at her.

“What’s your problem?”

Apparently, he did have some fight left in him after all.

Tracey rounded on him with a furious look. “You! You’re my problem!”

“Me?” Potter repeated, looking genuinely confused and angry. “I don’t think I’ve ever said more than a couple dozen words to you in my whole life.”

“Ever since you came back to the Wizarding World, everything’s gone wrong!” Tracey shouted, heedless of the muggles in their homes nearby. “The Dark Lord is back, and somehow you’re involved in it all! We had to leave our home because we needed to be safe from him, and now we’ve gone and ended up in an even more dangerous place because of you!”

“I didn’t ask for any of this!” Potter shouted back at her. “I didn’t ask Voldemort to come back or to target your family! Why the hell are you blaming me for something that isn’t my fault?”

The anger and hurt in his green eyes was undeniable, and it gave Tracey pause. 

Everything about Potter seemed to annoy her, but why was she blaming him for this? He didn’t tell her family where to move and he didn’t make the Dark Lord target her family. He was just always in the periphery of these things for whatever reason; it was like he was magnetised to trouble.

If he really was at fault, would he have looked hurt like that? It was worse than his normal gloomy appearance she’d seen from him all summer.

A thought popped into her mind: had she ever even seen him looking happy at all since she’d moved here? 

Tracey couldn’t think of a single instance in which he was.

Tracey felt her body deflate as her anger left her. She wasn’t angry at Potter—at least, not really. It was the Dark Lord and this fucked up situation she was in that she was angry at, and Potter didn’t deserve this type of behaviour from her.

“I’m sorry,” Tracey managed to get out. “You’re right.”

Potter looked confused at her sudden change, and honestly, so was she. 

“Err… okay,” Potter said slowly.

Embarrassment and awkwardness replaced the anger in Tracey’s body as she realised that she’d been being an arse. “I’ve got to go to the shops,” she said more as an excuse to get away from him.

“Right,” Potter replied lamely. He seemed thoroughly off guard from this drastic shift, and he didn’t know how to react.

Tracey hurried past him down the road, hoping for just a moment that she could forget the hurt she’d seen in Potter’s eyes.

Never again, she told herself. She didn’t want to make other people feel the way she did.

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The next weeks were easier in some ways and harder in others. 

The lack of friends around left Tracey sad and bored at the same time. It was tiring having to stay up late to be able to write letters to Daphne, and the initial interest in television had worn off after she realised just how terrible or confusing most of the programming was. It made Tracey miss being back home, surrounded by green meadows filled with wondrous magic and intrigue around every corner. She missed the days of lounging by her pool with Daphne and the trips they’d take into Diagon Alley. With the recent attacks on witches, wizards, and even muggles in Britain, her parents refused to let her leave the neighbourhood. As much as Tracey wanted to ignore them and go to Diagon Alley anyways, the attacks scared her too. 

But as terrible as her initial impression of Little Whinging had been, one thing had made it a bit nicer.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you your face is going to get stuck looking that way if you keep it up?” Tracey asked Harry teasingly.

Harry’s frown wrinkled his forehead terribly, but Tracey still thought it was cute. He seemed so focused on fixing up his cousin’s old bike that it was like the rest of the world faded away from view. It reminded Tracey of how he looked when he played Quidditch.

“This stupid tyre still has a puncture somewhere,” Harry grumbled as he fought with the inner tube. He was spinning it around in his hands, searching for the hole.

“You know, we could just take this over to my house where we can use magic to fix it,” Tracey told him amusedly.

“I’d like to learn how to do it without though,” Harry countered playfully.

It was, perhaps, one of the strangest things Tracey had grown to like about Harry. Despite being an incredibly powerful wizard, he had these idiosyncrasies around the muggle way of doing certain things. It reminded her of her dad, although Harry was more extreme about it. 

Little things like gardening, cooking, and generally working with his hands were things that Harry liked to do the muggle way. He’d almost seemed aghast the first time she’d told him about how she used the Severing Charm to slice a chocolate cake she’d baked. Apparently, if the spell wasn’t cast perfectly, it was far too easy to have jagged or rough edges. Tracey had thought it was a bit silly, after all, she’d never had a proble-m with how her cakes were cut. But then Harry showed her how smoothly a warm knife sliced through the buttercream and the delicate layers of sponge, and she had to admit that maybe there was something to his beliefs.

Tracey had a lot of fun arguing with Harry over silly things like that. Anytime there was a simple divide on whether or not they should use the magical or muggle way of doing something, she always passionately defended the magical method. Harry would banter back with her, and in the end, they both learnt new things that the other didn’t know.

And Tracey found herself learning a lot more than Harry did. Muggle methods had always seemed so ridiculous to her; though, that might have been from growing up in pure-blood society. But now that she’d seen them in action first hand, she had to admit that there was more to them than she’d given credit for.

“Why don’t you try inflating it with the pump?” Tracey suggested. “You should be able to hear the air escaping from the hole, right?”

Harry collapsed onto his back on the grass and stared up at the blue sky above. “I’m an idiot.”

“A cute one though,” Tracey added helpfully.

And yet again, Harry missed one of her not-so-obvious hints. For a while, she’d wondered if he just wasn’t into girls, but then she’d caught him staring at her arse when he thought she wouldn’t notice, and she knew that that wasn’t the case.

“Ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back,” he grumbled under his breath as he began to inflate the tube. 

All it took was a few pumps before the quiet sound of hissing air allowed him to identify the hole. Then, it was a simple matter to put a little glue around the hole, let it dry, and then place a simple patch over top of the tiny hole.

“There,” Harry sighed as he re-inflated the tube and set it aside. He could always reattach it later, but right now, he looked like he was done for the day.

Tracey sat down beside him and smoothed out her skirt. It was a little strange seeing the man the papers were saying was “the Chosen One” just laying on the grass like a normal eighteen-year old man. At Hogwarts, she’d only ever seen him from a distance and through Draco’s skewed words. These last few weeks had changed everything for her, including her perception of Harry, but it was still difficult to reconcile her personal knowledge of him with how he’s seen by the wizarding world.

“You look knackered,” Tracey said as she poked his side.

Not knackered enough to not swipe her hand away though.

“I’m just old,” Harry replied jokingly. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind today I guess.”

“Is it about the Dark Lo… V-V-Voldemort?” Tracey managed to correct herself just in time. Even though the taboo was long gone, it still felt wrong saying his name openly like this, but Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.

“A bit,” Harry admitted. His jaw moved like he was chewing on the words he wanted to say but couldn’t.

“He ruins everything, doesn’t he?” Tracey murmured quietly.

Harry jerked his head in a nod, and then stopped himself. “Not everything,” he amended with his words. “Quidditch is still fun, and so is spending time with my friends.”

“Do I qualify as one of those friends now?” Tracey asked him curiously.

“You’re more—” Harry snapped his jaw closed as his cheeks flushed, but Tracey didn’t need him to say the rest. Everything he meant to say was shown on his face and the way he avoided meeting her gaze.

Tracey felt a rush of excitement through her chest. Her feelings for Harry had grown tremendously in the time she’d gotten to know him, but despite his physical attraction towards her, she didn’t know if he felt more for her than just that.

Now, she had confirmation.

“When I first moved here,” Tracey began as she craned her neck up to catch more of the sunlight on her face. “I felt like my life was over. I had to leave my home behind, my friends, and magic too, in a way. I was angry at Voldemort—”

“And me too,” Harry interrupted playfully.

“Yes, and you too,” Tracey rolled her eyes with a small smile on her lips. “But things have a funny way of working out in the end. Voldemort can’t take everything from us. He can’t stop us from being human, from feeling things, from making connections we never expect to make.”

Tracey glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eyes, and he was staring up at her with undisguised hope. Figures. She’d given him a million signs and subtle hints that he never picked up on until right now. At least he finally knew now.

“As long as you can find those connections, people can find hope in each other,” Tracey finished.

Harry’s hand moved so slowly that Tracey almost missed it at first. His fingers drifted across the grass, collecting the remnants of the early morning dew on them, until they gently brushed against Tracey’s knee.

She looked down, pretending to only notice his hand now, and put her hand on top of his. 

Their eyes met, and suddenly, Tracey was leaning down to kiss Harry.

It wasn’t hard to see why half of the witches at Hogwarts fancied Harry. Tracey, as much as she was embarrassed to admit it, had a small crush on the bespectacled, green-eyed boy when she’d first laid eyes on him at Hogwarts. Then, as she grew older, there was inevitably one girl at a sleepover who would giggle and ask the rest of them if they’d snog Harry if given the chance. By that time, Tracey’s opinion on Harry had most definitely soured, but there was still something so wicked about kissing a handsome man you didn’t like that it became fun to fantasise about. But now that she’d gotten to know him over the past few weeks this summer, Tracey realised that her old crush hadn’t quite faded from her, nor had her wicked desire to kiss him.

The rush of finally finding her first wand had nothing on this kiss. It was simply divine. It felt like Tracey’s and Harry’s lips were moulding together as they embraced, and thousands of sparks of euphoria passed between them. 

It was over all too soon, and as Tracey lifted her head up a bit to stare into his beautiful green eyes, something inside of her screamed to go in for more.

But there was another call within her body that was stronger.

“Would you like to come sit inside for a bit?” Tracey suggested, failing to inflect any of the innocence that she wanted to in her tone.

Harry’s eyes widened and returned to normal a moment later when he shifted his trousers. “Yeah, yeah,” he repeated to himself. “That’d be great.”

Tracey felt intoxicated as she led Harry over to her house. It was just next door, but she felt like hundreds of people were staring at the two of them, knowing what they were about to get up to. A part of her felt pride at that—she wanted to stake her claim on Harry before anyone else could—but it mostly felt embarrassing. The street was filled with boring, gossipping, middle-aged men and women, and Tracey knew that word would get round fast enough if any of them saw Harry and Tracey going inside together.

They walked inside to the empty house and kicked off their shoes. Given that it was still well before noon, her parents wouldn’t be home from work for several hours. That’d give Harry and Tracey plenty of time to themselves.

Tracey bit her lip as she considered bringing Harry into the living room under the pretence of actually just sitting down for a bit, but she dissuaded herself of that idea quickly. She couldn’t let her nerves stop her from getting what she wanted.

So, she boldly stepped onto the staircase and looked back at Harry. He looked surprised at all of this, like he couldn’t believe his luck, but there was a hunger there too that told Tracey he wanted this as badly as she did.

“Are you coming?” She asked him, biting her cheek to stop herself from grinning at the dirty implication.

Harry practically leapt to the stairs, and the two of them rushed to the top of them. As soon as both of them crossed the threshold into Tracey’s room, she closed the door behind them.

Tracey had expected to have to make the first move again, but Harry pounced on her. His lips were on hers, and Tracey couldn’t help but moan into the kiss. He was so gentle and yet demanding in a way that fuelled the fire in between Tracey’s thighs.

Harry pinned her back against her door without breaking the connection between their lips. Tracey intertwined the fingers of one of her hands with his and pressed herself back against him. She wanted to feel every inch of his body against hers, to feel his warmth on her.

When her thigh brushed against the hardness in his trousers, Harry hissed and broke off the kiss.

The two of them stared at each other, breathless. Each of them seemed to be seeking permission from the other to take things further.

Out of all of the women in her year in Slytherin, Tracey was known to be the biggest tease—not counting how Pansy practically throws herself at Draco. She loved to tease the men that stared at her and her friends for too long in the corridors, but she never took it further than a joke. 

But while she may not have a ton of experience in the bedroom, she knew exactly what she could do to drive a man wild.

It started slowly with her tilting her head to the side to expose more of her neck to Harry. She watched his eyes flicker down there, and then she subtly leaned forward while bringing her arms together ever so slightly. Her breasts pushed up in her shirt, and her cleavage was expanded.

Harry’s gaze dropped lower, and Tracey knew that she had him.

Tracey relaxed her posture, returning her cleavage to its normal amount, and Harry’s gaze snapped back up to her face. With a little self-satisfied smirk, Tracey winked at him.

“Enjoy the view?” She asked playfully.

Harry’s cheeks flushed at being caught, but to her surprise, he simply nodded his head. “I did,” he confirmed bravely. “But I’d like to get an ever better look at it.”

“You would, would you?” Tracey teased him as she bit her lip. She could see his cock straining in his trousers. “I think I’d like to see a bit more of you too.”

Harry glanced down at himself and then back to her. “Together, then?”

“Deal,” Tracey agreed.

Slowly, the two of them began to disrobe. Tracey spent plenty of time admiring the way Harry’s skin stretched over his flexing muscles as he took off his top. He was quite eager to get undressed as quickly as possible. When he pulled down his trousers and his cock jumped into view, Tracey nearly gasped at the size of it. He looked big, bigger than the toys he’d seen some girls use back in the dorms.

As Tracey openly ogled him, she mechanically took off her clothes. She wasn’t even focused on trying to be sexy, but Harry’s gaze was hyper-fixated on her. She took off her top and bra, letting her perky breasts out from their confines. She was the second biggest in Slytherin, after her best friend Daphne, and she was quite pleased with how good she looked topless. Her skirt and her panties came off together, revealing her hairless slit.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Merlin, I wish I’d met you sooner.”

Tracey giggled, and her breasts bounced enticingly on her chest. “Don’t get ahead of yourself yet; we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”

She walked towards him and then spun out of his reach at the last second. She laughed as she spanked his arse and leapt onto the bed. She rolled over onto her back and eyed him up with undisguised lust.

Tracey spread her legs wide for Harry, and he climbed on top of her. In that moment, Harry was staring down at her with so much emotion in his eyes that it left her breathless. His cock poked all around her wet entrance, but neither of them wanted to do anything to break this intimate eye contact.

Then, all of a sudden, Harry found the right spot and pushed forward.

Tracey literally gasped as Harry’s cock entered her. Her walls were struggling to stretch around his girth, and it was only thanks to how aroused she was that she managed to fit him inside of her at all. Her core was slick with her juices, and Harry’s cock greedily coated itself in them to help ease his passage deeper inside of her. 

Harry’s face twisted into something of pure pleasure. “You’re tight,” he grunted out.

“You’re big,” she moaned in reply, her mind unable to come up with a more eloquent way to put it.

Harry groaned at her words and jerked her hips forward. This time, her breath literally did leave her lungs as he stretched her pussy to its limit. Tracey had never felt so full before, neither from her fingers or the toys she’d tried. Harry’s cock felt burning hot inside of her, and she could feel it pulsing with desire. She wondered if her walls felt similar to him.

This intimate connection was unlike anything else that Tracey had ever experienced, and it only felt right to kiss him then. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and he kissed her back too just as he started to rock his hips against hers.

The intense feeling of loss as Harry slid his cock backwards was only mollified by the sensation of him pushing back inside of her. The feeling of her walls stretching around him was something that Tracey knew she’d never tire of, and the way her body reacted to his touch was something she knew was unique to him. The fire in her core was being stoked every time Harry pushed back inside of her pussy, and Tracey loved it.

Although he began slowly, Harry quickly picked up the pace. One of his hands grabbed her hip while the other held the back of her head in place so that he could kiss her as much as he wanted—not that Tracey wanted him to do anything differently. Tracey was caught up in the overwhelming sensations of Harry’s lips on hers and his cock gliding in and out of her pussy, so she was quite happy to let him take control.

It wasn’t to say that everything was perfect though. Anytime Harry hit just the right spot inside of her, Tracey had the tendency to really tighten up around him. That usually left Harry cursing into her mouth and slamming hard into her pussy. It always took a second to return back to the normal rhythm, but Tracey secretly relished making Harry feel so much pleasure that he messed up a bit.

The sounds of their lovemaking turned Tracey on even more too. The squelching of her pussy and the slapping of Harry’s balls off of her arse had sounded lewd to her at first, and while it definitely still was, it also felt romantic too. Coupled with their heavy breathing and intermittent kisses, Tracey knew that there was no one else she’d rather be with.

Harry’s hips continued to move faster and faster, and Tracey’s moans grew louder. Even Harry’s kisses weren’t enough to make her stop making her sounds of pleasure. She knew that her bedroom window was open, but she didn’t care anymore if anyone overheard her and Harry. 

Tracey wrapped her legs around Harry’s waist and helped pull him into her on his next thrust.

“Yes, Harry,” she moaned. “More.”

Her pussy squeezed down tighter on his cock, and Harry let out a strangled sound as he snapped his eyes shut. He bucked his hips against her, and Tracey felt his cock spasm lightly.

“I can’t,” Harry admitted regretfully. “I’m about to cum.”

He went to pull out of her, but Tracey kept her legs locked tightly around him.

“Tracey, I—”

“I heard what you said,” she interrupted him as she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back down on top of her. “I’ll make a potion to deal with it later. Right now, I don’t want this to end faster than it needs to.”

Harry looked relieved in a way at that. It only took him another second before he nodded his head and thrust into her again.

Tracey did everything in her power to copy down the next few moments in her memory. She listened to every breath Harry gave, memorised the feeling of his muscular chest brushing across her breasts as they bounced from his thrusts, and indulged in the feeling of his thick, hard cock ramming into her pussy again and again.

The moment that Harry groaned and jerked his hips forward into her was something Tracey would always remember. She was staring up at his handsome face, watching his green eyes disappear as he closed his eyes in bliss. Then came the warm, sticky sensation of him cumming inside of her.

There was a roar of approval within her chest at the feeling of her man finding the ultimate pleasure with her. Tracey held him close to her, allowing him to spill every last drop into her eager pussy until he was finally done.

As their bodies relaxed, Tracey let Harry pull out of her and flop down onto the bed too. She put her back to him and snuggled up against him, feeling his wet cock press up against her arse. In return, he wrapped his arms around her and snuggled up close.

Not everything on Privet Drive was pretending to be better than it was, Tracey realised. Even the worst situation could be turned into something wonderful with a little help, and she’d found the perfect man to make things just right for her.

And she hoped she made things better for him too.