The Lust of Gryffindors

Chapter 41: A Black's Revenge

Harry laughed and downed the last sip of butterbeer from Helga Hufflepuff's legendary cup. It was actually more of a goblet. Sirius had dared him to drink out of it, and really, what was the harm? There was nothing special about it now except for its great age.

He set it down carefully and cleaned it with his wand. Sirius smirked and gave him a high-five. Both were ready to act innocent when the Headmaster returned to the kitchen.

Dumbledore was in the library talking with Remus, and would soon take both Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket back to Hogwarts, where they would join the other destroyed horcruxes.

After the revelation that Narcissa possessed Bellatrix' vault key, Dumbledore had absconded with her to Gringotts without even letting her dress properly. It had taken her twenty minutes of examining the trinkets in the vault to cautiously remove the cursed cup. The trip wasn't without incident. Even though she possessed the key legally, the goblins had refused to let her enter the vault without a not-so-subtle bribe. Then Dumbledore had needed to stand outside it and help Narcissa avoid lethal traps she hadn't even realized were present. The experience had been more than a little harrowing for her.

Just a few hours ago they had stabbed the cup on the kitchen table. Dumbledore had cleaned and repaired it as best he could, hoping it could be put on display after everything was over.

In only a handful of days, they had taken out two of Voldemort's horcruxes. Harry could hardly contain his excitement. The dread that had overwhelmed him at the end of term had been replaced by hope. Momentum had shifted in their favor. Voldemort may have returned to a physical body, but Dumbledore's research had paid off handsomely and they were striking blow after blow against him in secret.

The last two horcruxes had practically fallen into their laps. Maybe Fate was smiling on him, as Madame Vautour had said last summer. If events were conspiring in his favor, he wasn't going to complain.

Narcissa had watched the destruction of the cup, then left to lie down. She had gone from being a willing member of a Death Eater family to actively participating in the destruction of Voldemort. That was a heady turn for anyone. Even more so for a rich, aristocratic pureblood who had been raised to abhor blood traitors. Harry knew she was in this for herself and Draco now, all other loyalties be damned.

Dumbledore strode into the room with a smile on his face and horrifying orange robes adorning his frame. He had been almost giddy with happiness earlier in the morning.

"Gentlemen! I am off to Germany. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck, sir. Where are you meeting her?"

"Wiesbaden, but I don't believe she resides there. My understanding is that she moves around a lot."

Sirius snorted. "I would too if I looked like that."

"Be nice. She's helping us," Harry said. He was creeped out by Madame Vautour's appearance too, but wouldn't protest her contributions to his welfare.

"For a healthy number of galleons, she is."

"It is money well-spent, Sirius," Dumbledore said, "and I thank you again for donating it. If she can confirm that the horcrux in Voldemort's ring was neutralized during his ritual, that would be invaluable information. I am hopeful that she has some insights on how many horcruxes he created too. I have my own opinions on the matter, but would like to hear them confirmed. It's possible that we have removed all but his snake."

"What happens after we know for sure?" Harry asked.

"Then the game is afoot. He doesn't fully trust Severus yet, but I am hopeful we can glean some information about his plans. We might be able to set a trap of some sort."

He bit back his initial response: that he didn't trust Snape either. "Sounds good to me, sir."

They may not know what Voldemort was doing, but they knew he didn't have much support at the moment. His most loyal followers were dead or in Azkaban. He had Crouch, Nott, and a handful of others, but one of them was working against him. Snape—though admittedly an asshole—was a very competent wizard. If he proved to be a competent spy, and most importantly a loyal one, maybe they could bring the Dark Lord down before he caused too much devastation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two days later, Harry had just settled into the library to read when there was a soft knock on the door. He looked up, and was surprised to find Ginny Weasley smiling at him. She put a finger to her lips and beckoned him forward.

He followed her out into the hallway.

"What's going on?" he whispered.

"Shhhh. I escaped mum for an hour. She's gone to the Diggory's to listen to some program, so I flooed over here. Where are the others?"

"Sirius and Remus are in Knockturn doing things you're not supposed to know about. Tonks and her mum are visiting the Malfoys upstairs."

"Good. Let's go to your room."

She reached forward to grab his hand, but Harry picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder instead. She gasped in surprise as he wrapped his arm around her ass, then slowly ascended the stairs. They had almost made it to the third floor when Tonks met them coming from the other direction. She took one look at the pair and smirked.

"And what sort of mischief are you two getting up to?"

Ginny squirmed off his shoulder and shot him a panicked look. For someone who grew up knowing how to manipulate her older brothers, it was funny to watch her become flustered in the presence of someone like Tonks.

"Just a friendly game of gobstones," Harry responded with a smile. "Which nobody needs to know about. Ever."

"Righto. I never saw a baby Weasley sneaking into your room to play naked gobstones. Don't forget the silencing charms."

She winked at Ginny and continued down the stairs.

Ginny stared at her retreating back. "Er…"

"She won't tell. She knows all about Hermione's Polyjuice experiments too."

"She does?"

"Yeah, you know she's a metamorph, right? Any more than that you should probably ask Hermione."

"Oh, Merlin."

"Exactly."

She shook her head and pulled him into his room. He locked the door and cast the recommended silencing charm.

Ginny was already wrestling out of her clothes. "I wanted to drag you up here on Christmas Day, but mum was watching me like a hawk."

He watched her disrobe with amusement. "Feeling frisky?"

"Get naked, Harry."

He laughed. "You know, there are two other members of the Pride living in your house. I'm sure they could satisfy you. Wouldn't be the first time they did."

She shot him a fierce glare, but its power was undermined by a blush. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He pulled her naked body to him and rubbed underneath her chin. "Just because they were in different bodies doesn't change the fact that you shagged your brothers, Gin-Gin. Kinky little witch."

"I'm going to hurt you if you don't shut up."

Harry decided not to push his luck any further. He kept quiet as she removed his clothes almost violently and then caressed his cock with both hands. When he didn't grow hard fast enough for her liking, she dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth.

She kissed and licked his entire length, and he stared at her face as she worked. Merlin, he loved seeing Ginny like this. She had him rock hard in no time at all.

Harry picked her up and tossed her onto the bed, earning another surprised gasp. He climbed on top of her and rubbed a single finger through her little orange bush, then slipped it between the lips below. She was already wet and ready.

He leaned down and kissed her. She returned it aggressively, and he was surprised at the desire pouring off her. It seemed Ginny was becoming addicted to the joys of the Pride too. Or perhaps just to him. He rubbed his cock teasingly along her clit.

"Feel free to imagine this is Fred's cock if you want. I won't mind."

She yanked on his hair. "Harry Potter. I have less than an hour here. If you don't stop talking shit and make me cum, you'll regret it."

"Where's the Ginny Weasley who snuck into this bed over the summer? She was so much sweeter."

"She had her brains shagged out by a pride full of lions. Now she's a ravenous beast."

He laughed and slipped his head inside her. She flexed her warm, slick walls as he slid through them. When he was fully sheathed, she wrapped her legs around him.

"Give it to me good, Harry."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He put his book aside, wondering if he was tired enough to sleep. He had taken a nap this afternoon, needing to recover from last night's New Year's Eve party at the Burrow, and now he was paying for it.

The party hadn't been a raucous affair, but it had gone late and been full of good cheer. The twins had led the entire family on a midnight broom ride around the pitch, then set off fireworks of their own invention. Harry had managed to grope Ginny during the broom ride, which had been risky but fun.

It was approaching one AM and he still felt wide awake. He walked down to the kitchens to get a snack. On his way back, he noticed light spilling from beneath the library doors, and stuck his head inside.

Narcissa Malfoy was there again. She was sitting in her usual chair and reading. This time there was a bottle of firewhiskey at her feet instead of a bottle of wine.

"You're going to be as bad as Sirius if you're not careful."

She looked up at him blearily. "After the last few days, I'm entitled. There's nothing else to do in this wretched house."

"You can leave it now, can't you?"

"I suppose, but I can't be seen in public. Not while the Dark Lord lives."

Harry sat down opposite her uninvited, feeling an odd compulsion to cheer her up. "We're making progress on that problem, thanks to you. You should be proud of helping to bring him down."

"I didn't do it for you, Harry Potter," she said sulkily, "and I can't believe someone just said those words to me. Merlin."

He smiled. "Life is pretty surreal sometimes, isn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes and took a generous sip from her glass of firewhiskey. "Don't spout schoolboy wisdom at me. I am more than twice your age."

"Boy-Who-Lived here, remember? My life has been one big surreal adventure."

"Jinxing my son in the hallways doesn't count as an adventure."

Harry couldn't stop his laughter. Was she really not aware of his history? She had seen the memory of his recent fight. But then she hadn't even known what the diary was for. Maybe it was time to educate her on his Hogwarts experience.

"Hand me that bottle, Lady Malfoy. I'll tell you some stories that are more entertaining than your book."

He took a huge swig of the proffered firewhiskey. He didn't drink very often, but he was in a good mood and wanted to find some common ground with her. "Where to begin? Maybe with the three-headed dog in first year?"

"Three-headed dog?"

"Yep. His name was Fluffy."

An hour and a half later, they had consumed a bottle of whiskey between them and started on another. He gave her the summary version of his life at Hogwarts. Fluffy. Quirrell. The Philosopher's Stone. Petrifications, diaries, and basilisks. Dementors and quidditch and escaped convicts. Late night Hippogriff rides. Tournament debacles and portkeys and graveyards and Death Eater impostors. One near-death experience after another.

He hinted nothing about the Pride. Nor did he mention time-turners and necromancers. But he told her virtually everything else. Narcissa couldn't betray him now, and he loved the look of absolute disbelief on her face.

She had interrupted him several times, unable to process his claims. Especially that a basilisk had roamed the halls of Hogwarts, and that her late husband had been responsible for releasing it. She had cursed and threatened to resurrect him from the dead, just so she could kill him again.

Harry grinned drunkenly and passed the bottle back to her. "So you see, Lady Malfoy, I've had one or two ridiculous adventures of my own. I understand how you're feeling. And I hope you understand how much I appreciate your help."

Narcissa shook her head and took a shot, then belched fire. She coughed and then laughed when it produced more fire. Both were quite drunk, and she had long since stopped worrying about propriety in front of him. She had even condescended to laugh at his misadventures in first year, especially at Draco's attempt to lure him into a duel.

"I'm still not sure I believe all that, Potter. I may be drunk, but I'm not stupid. Draco mentioned very few of those things, and when he did, he portrayed them very differently."

"Well, he wasn't there. He was busy playing patty-cake with Crabbe and Goyle."

She took another sip of her drink. "Doubtful. That's a rather advanced game for those two."

Harry laughed. Just like other Slytherins, she had a sense of humor when she was sloshed. He needed to start carrying around a flask in case he needed to converse with one.

"If you don't believe me, you can ask Hermione. She's been there for all of it."

"I'm not in the habit of seeking out the company of muggleborn witches."

He almost retorted, but stopped short. "Hey! You didn't call her a mudblood!"

She rolled her eyes. "I am capable of civility, you know. I don't want to see mud—muggleborns dead; I just don't like them. I admit your little girlfriend seems talented."

"She's not my girlfriend, just my best friend. Although I'm starting to wonder…"

"How lovely for her. Will she be gracing us with her presence soon?"

"Yeah, in a few days."

Narcissa waited until he took another sip from the bottle, then leaned forward with a wicked smile. "Does she know you're sleeping with Daphne Greengrass? Perhaps I'll ask her opinion on the matter when she arrives."

He almost choked on his drink. "What?!"

She leaned back smugly. "You revealed too much the other day. I considered which girl would be in her situation among Draco's classmates. It's quite obviously Miss Greengrass, though I am very surprised she tolerates you."

Harry tried to think clearly, but he was growing drunker by the minute and not a very good liar anyway. She seemed delighted with the look of consternation on his face.

"I never said anything about sleeping with anyone," he said, "or even that she was a Slytherin."

"No, but your eyes did when I accused you of it. Gryffindors are so very easy to read."

He huffed. "I'll confirm nothing, but please don't gossip about Daphne. It would create a mess for her."

"I'll keep your secret. Though I find it terribly amusing. A Greengrass and a Gryffindor. The world has turned upside down."

He wasn't certain how to take the look in her eye, but it seemed cordial rather than calculating. There was little he could do about it either way. "Hypothetically speaking—if I were friends with Daphne—couldn't something be done about her situation? You know how these people think."

"You refer to her marriage prospects?"

"I guess. She has no control over her life. Could her parents be forced to let her make her own choices?"

"Forced? As in blackmail? Bribery? A wand at their necks?"

"Whatever works. Obviously they don't give a shit about her happiness."

She smirked. "You are growing increasingly ruthless."

"Gryffindors can be just as ruthless as Slytherins, thank you very much. I'm fighting in a war, and I don't like my friends being mistreated."

"Are you in love with the girl?"

"No. She's truly just a friend. But I want to help her if I can."

She observed him for a long moment, her eyes looking him over from head to toe. Her gaze was unfocused from the alcohol, but still he felt as if she were dissecting him.

"The easiest solution is to ask your godfather to make an offer for her hand. He is wealthy, and your name is sufficiently respected that the Greengrasses would consider a contract, despite your appalling lack of breeding. You are attractive enough, ignoring the hair."

"I don't want a bloody marriage contract. With anyone."

"Then things become complicated. I don't often socialize with the Greengrass family. But they are wealthy too, and all wealthy people have secrets. Especially those involved in international trade."

"Do you know any of theirs?"

Narcissa snorted in a very unladylike manner and smiled. "'Do I know any?'" she repeated mockingly. "You are such a delightfully simple Gryffindor."

He shrugged and returned her smile. "You'd be surprised how often I hear that."

"I really wouldn't. But I have more than enough concerns of my own. I don't wish to entangle myself with Greengrass family affairs."

Harry tried to think through the problem from a Slytherin's perspective. She seemed amused by his attempt to read her mind. He took another sip of whiskey, which didn't help his focus.

"You seem like the kind of witch who knows more than she should about everybody. If you had information that could help Daphne and her sister—what would a favor like that cost me?"

Her lips twitched, and then she began laughing uncontrollably. Her fair skin flushed, and she reminded him strangely of Katie Bell overcome by a giggling fit. She tried to take another drink, but couldn't. Her body literally shook from laughter, and it took her a long while to recover. He watched her with a smile, delighted to see her lose her composure.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm drunker than I realized. I just hallucinated The-Boy-Who-Lived asking to place himself in my debt. The entire world has gone mad."

"Yes, it has. But you didn't answer my question."

"Surely you know that being in a Slytherin's debt is not a safe place to be."

"And surely you know that not all Slytherins are evil. Don't forget you're in debt to a pair of Gryffindors right now. I know you can't do much to hurt me."

She almost started giggling again. The nervous energy of the last few days appeared to be flowing out of her all at once. "You've changed, Potter. You're not at all the callow young man I encountered at the World Cup."

"My name is Harry. And you're not so intimidating when firewhiskey makes your mask slip. I just want to help Daphne if I can. She's in the same situation you once were. Imagine if you could have made your own choices. You might be sitting on an Italian beach right now, surrounded by suitors, never having heard of Voldemort."

His words sobered her a little. She contemplated them for a moment. "I suppose I can think on the matter. The Greengrass sisters are quite beautiful, aren't they? Draco has expressed his admiration for Astoria several times."

"No offense, but I don't think they'd be a good match. Parkinson is more Draco's speed."

Narcissa smirked at the implied insult. Her cheeks were still flushed, and she stared at him as if she couldn't quite believe he were real.

"Speaking of Draco," she said, "do you intend to gift him with more pornography? He's been rather bored of late."

He blinked, and couldn't stop his own snort of laughter from escaping. He tried to clamp down on it, but another look at her face made that impossible.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about, Lady Malfoy," he wheezed.

"You are the worst liar I have ever encountered, Harry. I already know it came from you."

She seemed amused rather than angry, so he didn't deny it. "How did you know?"

"I confronted Sirius when I discovered a rather large collection of magazines in Draco's room. He admitted they once belonged to him, but claimed they were a 'gift' from you. He's a rather chatty drunk, isn't he?"

"So are you, it looks like. Merlin."

He couldn't quite believe he was discussing pornography with Narcissa Malfoy. When she merely shrugged in response, he leaned forward and smiled.

"Does he need more since you confiscated it? I could probably track some down for my dear friend Draco."

"Who says I confiscated it? Those magazines have probably kept him sane the last six months."

He burst out laughing again. "Oh, good God. Stop talking. I don't want to imagine what Draco does alone in his room."

"Well, you just asked his mother if he needed more pornography. How do you think I feel?"

"You brought it up!" The absurdity of the conversation struck him, and he had to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes. "Holy shit. I'm feeling surreal again."

"Quite."

Both seemed to have needed the release of laughter. He was quite drunk now, but had established enough of a rapport with her that he felt bold enough to stare at her openly. Her eyes were glazed, and her face was more relaxed than he'd ever seen it. She was quite a beautiful woman, even if she was old enough to be his mother.

She seemed content to watch him in silence too, her lips quirked at the oddity of their evening together. Two firewhiskey bottles lay empty on the floor, and they had run out of things to say. He felt as if the room were swirling, and wondered if the whiskey was stronger than usual.

"You're looking at me strangely, Harry."

"Sorry. You're very beautiful," he admitted, the words spilling out of their own accord.

"Thank you. I'm also too old for you to be flirting with."

"Can't help it. You remind me of Daphne."

"I'll consider it a compliment."

"It is. She's fun when her mask slips too. Still can't get the damn thing off her completely."

He was vaguely aware that he was speaking recklessly, but for some reason Narcissa felt like an ally at the moment. The whiskey had loosened his tongue to the point that his filter had gone on holiday.

"Masks are important," she said. "Sometimes it's best not to know what lies behind them."

"I wouldn't mind seeing behind yours," he answered brazenly. "I don't understand you, but I know you're not evil. You're a bit Gryffindorish in a Slytherin kind of way, aren't you?"

"I'll pretend that makes sense. You're quite direct when you're drunk."

"Thanks."

"It wasn't a compliment." She tried to stand, but fell back against the seat. "Merlin, I'm soused. I need to go to bed."

"Me too. Need help getting to your room?"

"No. I need the room to stop spinning."

"You can always just crash in mine if you want. It's closer."

She gave him a confused look, and he blinked as he replayed his last words in his mind. Did he really just say that? Holy shit.

"You can't possibly be implying what you seem to be," she said slowly.

Harry scrutinized the look on her face, trying to think up a response amid the drunken haze clouding his mind. He had definitely meant exactly what she suspected. He just couldn't believe he had said it out loud. He heard Tracey's voice, telling him yet again that Gryffindors were irredeemably stupid. There was no longer any doubt about it. She was right.

"I'm, er, not sure where that came from," he ventured. "But…"

"But what?" she asked suspiciously.

"Er, hyper—hypothetically, what would happen if I were implying something? Not that I would, you know, but I mean…"

He winced as the words left his mouth. What the hell was wrong with him? Ah, well. Fuck it. Gryffindors Dare. If Sirius can shag poodles, he can at least test the waters with Draco's hot mum, no matter how foolish it was.

Narcissa looked at him like he had sprouted six new heads. "You can't be serious."

Harry had to stomp down the urge to make a terrible pun. He had grown too comfortable around her tonight, and let his instincts from the Pride take over. But they weren't in the Pride, and she was most certainly not a member. He rubbed his forehead and glared at the empty firewhiskey bottles, cursing their existence.

"Why don't we just blame this conversation on the alcohol?" he slurred. "I didn't mean to imply that I would sleep with you. Wait no—I mean, I definitely would, because you're gorgeous. I meant that—I'm sorry? For something I said, I think. Should I just stop talking now?"

"Yes."

He closed his eyes, wishing the room would find a stable axis. "I'm going to regret this moment in the morning, aren't I?"

When she didn't answer, he opened a single eye and tried to focus on her. She had stood from her seat and was resting a hand on it, gently swaying.

"Why in the name of Morgana do you think I would want to sleep with you, Potter?"

"Er, that's a good question. I can't remember the answer. Maybe because you're a beautiful woman stuck in a house with no company? I wanted to see you take your mask off."

"You are outrageously impertinent."

He sighed. "Yeah."

Harry chanced another look at her face. She was still getting her bearings. He took heart from the fact that she didn't seem outraged. She looked like someone had just informed her that the moon really was made of green cheese.

What a bloody mess he had made of a fun evening with a potential new ally. He had killed her husband just six weeks ago, for Merlin's sake. She probably thought he was depraved, or was trying to seduce her as some kind of twisted revenge against Draco.

"I'm, er—this wasn't about Draco, just so you know."

Narcissa stared at him in total befuddlement. "I should certainly hope not. What are you babbling about now?"

"I don't know. It made sense in my head. Can we, er, not let this affect the thing with Daphne? If you end up deciding to help her, I mean. I'm not trying to be an ass; it's just coming out that way. For some reason it felt natural to ask you back to my room. I'm sorry."

"Natural?"

"Well, I mean, I came in here to cheer you up, because I wanted to see you happy, and I'm actually pretty good at—never mind. Let's just shay—er, say—I wanted to give you an escape from things."

She stared at him for an uncomfortably long time, alternating between glaring and blinking, not quite able to believe his audacity.

"If you're actually interested," he said, "I promise that—"

She held up a hand and took a breath. "Potter. For the love of fucking Merlin. Stop talking."

"Yes, ma'am."

He stood from his seat, feeling light-headed and a little wobbly, but not as off-balance as she was. She took a few hesitant steps and bumped into a chair. She would have fallen to the floor had he not reached out and grabbed her.

Narcissa closed her eyes. "Thank you. I think I'll accept your offer after all."

"Really?"

"To walk me upstairs, fool. Not to—have your way with me."

"Oh. Sorry."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and supported her weight as they both stumbled toward the door.

He snickered. "I wouldn't have just had my way with you, you know. You could have had your way too. As many times as you liked."

"Potter."

"I'm just saying. If you ever—"

"Potter!"

"Sorry."

The lights dimmed behind them as he led her slowly out of the room and down the hall.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry managed to get through the next day without facing her. Dobby supplied him with a badly-needed hangover potion—likely stolen from Hogwarts' hospital wing—but that hadn't taken the edge off the memories. Merlin, he had actually propositioned Narcissa fucking Malfoy. What had he been thinking?

The potion helped him remember the end of the evening with more clarity. He had made an absolute fool of himself. Somehow channeled Sirius at his worst.

Mercifully, she had stayed in her private sanctuary with Draco all day. Maybe, if he were very lucky, she wouldn't remember everything. She had been hammered too, so much so that she could barely walk. He only hoped his foolishness wouldn't affect any future help he might need from her, whether it was related to Voldemort or Daphne.

He had been trying to perform a good deed last night, and had probably come off like a drunken lecher. His words had sounded so much more charming in his head. But he had grown used to the dynamics of the Pride, where it was a given that everyone was there for the same thing. That hadn't provided him with the skills to navigate a complex interaction with someone like Narcissa Malfoy. Especially when he was drunk. He needed to stay far away from that much firewhiskey in the future.

It was after midnight, and he had just begun to drift off when he heard his bedroom door creak softly open. He looked up, thinking perhaps Sirius wanted to talk, or that Ginny had escaped the Burrow again.

But no. The brief glimpse of her silhouette was unmistakable.

"Holy shit," Harry whispered.

She locked the door and cast a silencing charm, then stood quietly in front of his bed. The light in the room was dim, helped only by moonlight from the window, but he could see that she wore a long dressing gown, with her hair spilling down her shoulders. She still hadn't said a word.

He was spellbound by the moment, afraid he might be hallucinating.

"Does your invitation still stand?" Narcissa whispered.

"Er, yes," he answered, his heart pounding. He scooted over in bed and pulled back the covers for her.

She dropped her dressing gown to the floor. He could barely make out her body, but could tell that she was nude. She slid into bed with him, and he felt the softness of her skin against his.

"No one can ever know," she whispered, the smell of whiskey on her breath. "Ever. I will deny it, or claim you stole my hair for Polyjuice. If you tell Draco, I will find a way to destroy you without violating my vow."

"I won't breathe a word, Narcissa," he said. "I just can't believe you're here."

"Neither can I, but I have my reasons."

She didn't object to his use of her name, and Harry scooted closer to her. He wasn't sure how to act. If this had been happening in the Pride, among his friends, he would have been confident. But this was Draco's mum. The widow of a man he had recently killed. Now that he was sober, the idea of sleeping with her sounded ludicrous.

Uncertain what else to do, he pulled her into a hesitant kiss. She stiffened for a fraction of a second before returning it. She tasted like alcohol, but didn't seem very drunk. He ran his hand along her flanks to cup her breast. It was soft and full, and not as firm as he was used to. It spread around his hand as he squeezed it.

Narcissa shivered at his caress and breathed into his mouth. She seemed incredibly nervous. Her arms were by her side, as if she were afraid to touch him. Despite her advantage in age, he sensed he would have to take the lead.

"Just relax," he whispered, and deepened their kiss. She began responding to his desire, and her tongue grew a little bolder. She ran a hand through his hair.

Harry reached between her legs and she opened one for him. Her pubic hair was rather expansive, but then she had grown up in the 60s and 70s. He ran his fingers through it, marveling at its fullness, and reached lower. He found soft, wet lips waiting on him. She exhaled when he slipped a finger inside her.

He wriggled it teasingly and pulled away to smile at her. "I want to see you lose your mind."

He leaned down and pulled a nipple into his mouth. She didn't make a noise, but her chest heaved as he suckled gently on it. He lowered himself further, kissing her belly. When he went further still, she stopped him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to tease you with my tongue."

He could feel her eyes staring at him intently, even in the darkness.

"I've never done that."

Harry blinked. "You mean—what? Never?"

"Lucius never would."

"But—with no one else either?"

She sighed, suddenly seeming much more vulnerable. "I was betrothed when I was twelve, Harry. There haven't been others. I wasn't allowed to take a lover, no matter how many Lucius had. It was part of my contract."

"Bloody hell."

It took him a moment to register that he would be her second lover in her entire life. Merlin. She had so much more experience than him in everything else. She was the consummate Slytherin—cold, competent, and cunning—but in this she was hesitant, perhaps even a novice, despite having given birth. How often had Lucius even touched her, if he wasn't concerned with her pleasure?

He couldn't help but be baffled that she was trusting him with this side of her. It must have taken quite an act of courage to walk down those stairs.

Or was she truly trusting him? Perhaps this was some kind of revenge. She had spent years spying on her husband and blackmailing his mistresses. Sleeping with the boy who killed him might feel like the ultimate vengeance to her.

It felt impolite to ask, and Harry decided he didn't care. He hated Lucius too, and wanted to make his wife moan in pleasure.

She was still watching him with apprehension. The atmosphere in the room had changed into something weirdly intimate.

"Narcissa," he said gently. "You can trust me. Let me worship your body tonight."

She exhaled slowly. "Very well. Do as you will."

"No. I'll do as you will. All you have to do is tell me what you want. If you want me to take charge, just relax and let yourself go. Because I'm going to make your body thrum."

"I've already come this far. I won't stop you now."

He lowered himself between her legs again, spreading them wider. He teased her hairy lips open to expose the slick, pink warmth between them. His tongue found her clit, and she almost closed her legs around his head. He spread them again, and began teasing her clit back and forth until her belly was quivering.

Two fingers slipped inside her. She was just as soft and wet as younger girls, but not quite as tight. He stroked her walls, seeking that special spot, and teased her clit more aggressively.

Her breath quickened, but still she made no sound. Daphne had been silent at first too. He had removed that inhibition from her, and wanted to do the same for Narcissa.

Harry rubbed his nose through her pubic hair as he tongued her clit, trying to make her lose her composure. He noted idly that it was pitch black. Her platinum blonde hair must be dyed—the little streaks of black in it a nod to her Black family heritage. Maybe she would grow it out black now that Lucius was dead.

He slipped a third finger inside her and twisted. She moaned for the first time. He suckled her clit firmly, and she gasped and grabbed his hair with her hand. His fingers reached deep inside her and her legs began trembling. He kept up the pressure, and it didn't take much longer for her whole body to stiffen.

She wrapped her thighs around his head and panted as she contracted around his fingers and soaked them. Her orgasm seemed to last forever. He kissed her clit when she was finished and then lay down by her side.

"How was that?"

"Great Morgana," she said, sounding on the edge of laughter.

Harry couldn't help but feel a little smug. He had made the faintest of cracks in her mask, and with any luck he could make another one. She hadn't even touched his body yet, perhaps hesitant because of his age or her lack of experience in such a situation.

He kissed her on the neck and moved one of her hands until it was wrapped around his hard cock.

"We're just getting started," he whispered in her ear. "When you're ready for more, I'm going to put this deep inside you. You're going to feel every inch, and you're going to moan every time I fill you with it."

She snorted, not quite able to believe his words. "You are something else, Harry Potter."

"You better fucking believe it."

Narcissa looked into his eyes and wrapped her hand around him more firmly. Her fingers explored his entire length, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Impressive."

"Thank you."

"I want you to know something," she said, "and to savor it for the rest of your life. You are bigger than Lucius by far. I wish he were in this room right now, tied up in the corner and forced to watch me cuckold him."

He smiled. So this was mostly about revenge for her. He could live with that, even if it was a bit twisted. It wouldn't stop him from trying to drive her wild.

She seemed newly thrilled with the idea of what she was about to do. Her apprehension had disappeared after her release, and she looked at him with lust in her eyes. Harry reached between her legs again, and after another minute of teasing and intense eye contact, she was wet and ready again.

"Okay, Harry. Show me what a Gryffindor can do."

He moved atop her, his weight pressing into her body. She spread her legs wider, and pulled him into a lust-fueled kiss.

He rubbed his cock through her furry mound, then lined himself up, teasing and prodding, before slipping inside her soaked pussy. She breathed out roughly as he filled her. He went slowly, letting her savor a sensation she probably hadn't felt in a long time.

"I'm going to make you cum so hard," he whispered, and started moving.

He kissed her as they fucked, and her tongue became more aggressive. He kept his pace controlled, pulling out slowly after each thrust, then pushing back in much harder. He always left himself fully-sheathed for a moment, grinding his pubic bone into her clit.

Narcissa said nothing at first. She just wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him harder. Harry intended to give her the best experience of her life. He had stamina now, and spent almost twenty minutes sliding sensually in and out of her. She grew increasingly wet, and her chest began heaving against his.

Her breathing became erratic, and she could no longer concentrate on their kiss. She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, a look of intense concentration on her face.

"Good?" he whispered.

"Merlin, yes," she panted.

He smiled and drew himself up, resting his weight on his hands. "Lift your legs a little."

She did so, spreading them wide, and Harry used his leverage to fuck her with more force. As his pace picked up, her mouth fell open and she began making the noises he longed to hear. Narcissa breathed a soft 'oh' every time he slid through her. She probably wasn't even aware she was doing it. From the look on her face, she had long since stopped thinking about Lucius. This was now about the hard cock ravishing her, and what it did to her body.

She grew soaking wet and started trembling. Harry longed to talk dirty to her, to make her curse, but didn't want to push her too far. The moment was electrifying enough, so much so that he had to consciously relax or he was going to lose control.

"Oh—oh," she whimpered, and wrapped her legs around him.

"Cum for me," he said, just as he had done for Daphne.

He thrust into her harder, making certain he rubbed against her clit, and Narcissa gasped. Her pussy gripped him like a vice and spasmed, and she couldn't stop herself from moaning loudly. It overwhelmed him, and he buried himself deep inside her and flooded her with his cum.

They lay in silence afterwards, neither knowing quite what to say.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Author's Note: This was an incredibly fun chapter to write, especially Harry's drunken attempt to seduce her. Harry/Narcissa is a favorite of mine, even though it's pretty unrealistic. Hopefully I did it some justice here.

Next chapter, Harry learns a little more about Narcissa, and Hermione arrives at Grimmauld for the final days of winter break.