Slytherin

It was utterly impossible, which made Harry feel somewhat better, because it meant Seamus would not be able to do it either.

Forbidden love, breaking taboos, even the fact that he was quite the handsome chap... none of it was worth anything, when it came to find a Slytherin witch willing to give him the time of day, much less agree to join him in a broom cupboard.

Now, it was true that there was a bit of history between Harry and the little snakes. After all, he had spent the better part of seven years humiliating their Quidditch team, pranking their prefects, and, of course, making the life of their head of house truly impossible. He had not realised how deep the animosity had lied, however, until he had actually started talking to some of them.

"Read my lips, Potter. Not if you were the last wizard alive. I'd rather lose my magic than spend ten seconds alone with you."

Now that had hurt, but what hurt more was that it was not his first rejection, not his second, third, or fourth. It was his sixth, and he started to wonder whether he should drop his standards to even get a look in. Plenty of pretty pureblood princesses in Slytherin, but also plenty of plain girls too. Maybe Millicent Bullstrode wouldn't be as opposed to a quick roll in the hay as her more beautiful classmates. Trouble was, he did not really want to shag Millicent. For someone with access to cosmetic charms she was considerably… hairy.

"Potter, I am told you are making the Hogwarts' four. Am I correct in assuming that you have yet to… charm a witch from my house?"

His surprise at these words almost led Harry to plummet to his death, as he skidded to the edge of the staircase. He stepped back into safety, clearing his throat slightly, to stare at a slightly bemused Daphne Greengrass. A Slytherin in his year, female, and stunningly blonde. Stunning blonde, rather. Or maybe both.

Her long hair fell around her shoulders in waves, save for the bit tied in a loose side braid, which snaked over her shoulder to rest between her breasts. Harry found it oddly attractive, and not only because it drew his eyes to her chest. Truth be told, he found everything about her very attractive, from her green eyes, dainty nose and pouty lips, enhanced by the slightest touch of lipstick, to everything beneath her neckline, majestically covered by the standard Hogwarts' robes.

Remember your training Harry, a part of him said.

"Is this a blackmail attempt?" he asked.

Daphne smiled, eyes fixing on his own. She shook her head slightly, and a few loose bangs came loose. She raised a delicate hand to place them behind her ear, and Harry was well and truly hooked.

"Hardly. I would simply like to make a business proposition. I'd prefer not to be overhead however. Follow me."

His feet were moving before his mind gave the command, catching up to her in three large strides. "What business proposition?" he asked eagerly.

Daphne twisted her lips into a promising smile, but said no more.

He followed her around like a lost little lamb, until a few turns delivered them onto an empty corridor. Now, it would be fair to say that Harry was a randy git, but not that he was a stupid randy git, or at least entirely so, so when she finally pulled him into particular room, he made sure to double check he wasn't headed straight into an ambsuh.

"Homenum Revelio."

The wave of magic returned to him undisturbed. No one in the room, but the two of them. Something in that realisation made his heart quicken his beat.

"Just wanted to make sure," he added, at Daphne's slightly raised eyebrow. She did not comment, but she did seem to reappraise him somewhat.

The room itself was largely unnoteworthy. It was empty save for a small table and two chairs, arranged opposite each other, and a slowly spinning globe of planet Earth. Daphne sat herself on one of the chairs, after placing her Hogwarts robes over the armrest, one leg over the other. She wore a shirt and skirt underneath her robes, with knee high white socks. Standard school fare, and yet she made it look like it wasn't.

She invited him to sit next to her with a wordless gesture and Harry, evidently, complied.

"So..." Harry began.

Daphne raised a finger. "One moment, please."

As if by magic, two cups of something that looked like tea appeared on the table. Daphne took one of the flowery cups and elegantly sipped it. She hummed appreciatively.

"It's good," she said. "You should try it."

Now Harry was ready to do plenty of things for the chance of winning the dare (and, dare he say, even more things for the chance of winning Daphne). But drinking something given to him by a Slytherin? That was a bit of a tall order. He did take the tea cup though and put it to his lips. No need to be rude, after all.

"To your liking?" she asked.

"Oh yes, very good." There was a pause. "Um, great, even. Very unique taste, erm, like honey and… milk?"

Daphne smiled, and leaned forwards. Her school shirt had the top two bottoms undone, and Harry's quidditch trained eyes instantly focused on the revealed neckline.

"I'm not going to poison you Harry," she said. She was very close, and her breath smelled of green tea. Well of course it did. Made all kinds of sense.

"...ok."

Daphne rolled her eyes teasingly, and dinked her thumb inside his cup, and then, under his very watchful eyes, into her mouth.

"Satisfied?"

Harry was. Harry also gulped his tea in two huge mouthfuls. Then he burst out coughing. "It's hot," he clarified, after a couple of chest thumps.

Daphne smiled again, indulgent, but her eyes were laughing.

"It's tea," she said, as if it explained everything. Which Harry supposed it did.

He shifted slightly on his seat as she continued to sip her tea in silence, her eyes never leaving his. Come on old boy. Think of something charming… or something witty… or really anything at all.

"So… the weather is pretty crazy innit?"

"Your Godfather is the head of House Black, correct?" Daphne asked, ignoring him. "And he has appointed no proxy for his Wizengamot seat, unless I am very much mistaken."

"Well… yes. And no, I mean yes, you are correct, yeah."

"Does your godfather attend Wizengamot sessions often?"

Harry scratched his head. "Not really, no. He is rather fond of saying the only pureblood twats he'll consider humouring are those belonging to the ladies."

Then he realised what he had just said, and wanted to die.

Daphne merely nodded, as if this was not news to her. "But he has kept his seat?"

"Yeah, yes. I think so, anyway."

Daphne looked at him consideringly. She took a breath and put her teacup down on the table.

"I will be blunt."

And she was. Very, very, blunt.

"You are not serious." Harry squinted at her again. "Wait you are serious aren't you?"

"Why would I not be? It is just sex, we are not talking about family grimoires, or political secrets. To be absolutely clear, those are off limits, nothing you can say will make me bargain for them." She gave him the once over. "I could offer money too, but something tells me you would not be interested."

Harry opened his mouth, yet he found it hard to articulate his thoughts exactly.

"I - er, well…"

"You feel perhaps as if my part of the agreement is not sufficient?" She leaned her back slightly, emphasizing the wonderful swell of her breasts. "Perhaps you need further… enticement? Two hours in which you can do whatever you want to me? Anything which you desire, whatever… perversion… I won't complain."

Harry found it hard to breathe. He knew it was a bad idea, perhaps even a prank (and what a cruel one it would be if it was), but he wasn't thinking anymore, not with the right head, at least.

"Fine," his voice came out almost an octave lower. "When do you want to… er, you know."

Daphne looked pleased. "Whenever you want. After the vote, of course."

"Of course," Harry nodded. "Wait, I want a contract first."

Yes, that made sense, he wasn't about to get screwed over this. He was going to be the one to do the screwing. Hopefully.

A minute flash of annoyance crossed Daphne's features. She schooled herself quickly however, once more returning to that inviting smile.

"Acceptable. Meet me here tomorrow after class, and we'll discuss the terms."

"And I want your... erm, knickers. Need them, actually."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "I shall wear my best, then."

"Do you own a black pair? Or something with snakes?"

Daphne looked at him flatly and Harry had the distinct impression that she was trying not to roll her eyes. "I'm sure I can think of something. You can put it in the contract if it makes you feel better."

"And I want you to call me daddy."

This time she did roll her eyes. "Anything else, daddy?"

"No, not really. Just wanted to see how far you would go."

"I expect you shall find just how far I am willing to go to secure my family's interests soon enough. Afternoon, Potter." She rose, daintily collected her robe, and walked away, swinging her hips hypnotically.

Harry thought about calling out to complain that she had not called him 'daddy' but settled for appreciating the view instead. What a nice bum she had, and what a short skirt too. Was that really part of the uniform?

He shook his head. Come to think of it, he wasn't entirely sure he was not currently experiencing one of the Weasley Twins' Patented Daydream Charms. After all, Daphne had featured in plenty of those before. Just on the off-chance that it was real, and he hadn't imagined it though…

He rose from his seat, grinning like a shark. He had some preparations to make.

Sirius would not even bat an eyelash at his request of voting for some pureblood bill, if it meant him getting some, Harry knew. Not for the first Harry wondered exactly why his parents had named the dog animagus his godfather, but not for the first time he realised that he was grateful to them for it.

Truth be told, he would have never imagined sexual favours to be an actual thing, even for the Wizengamot. He had always figured them to be a literary invention at best; the creation of a lazy writer desperate for a good plot device. Then again, he reflected, perhaps things were different in the wizarding world.

If so, then Harry had no compunction in declaring himself an absolute fan of pureblood culture. Assuming nothing went wrong, all four girls he'd slept with to complete the bet would be pureblood too. Perhaps he would have to do something about that; diversity was important after all.

But only after tomorrow. Tomorrow he had an important appointment with the blondest girl in the school. Should he take his lawyer? No, best not, the guy was obsessed with legos, and kept calling him Victoria. Hermione? Ugh. That was even worse. He would just have to wing it. Things usually worked out when he did anyway.

"Hey mate, wanna join?" Ron asked him as he entered the Gryffindor common room. He was seated across from Dean, cards in hand.

"Can't," Harry said. "I need to do some paperwork."

"Paperwork for what? Exams are not until the end of the year, you're starting to sound like Granger."

"My boy," Harry said, doing his best Dumbledore impression, "you will soon come to find out that there are more important things than instant gratification. It's vital to prepare for what tomorrow brings."

"You are a bit barmy Harry, has anyone ever told you that?"

Harry nodded seriously, and then he burst out laughing, giddily running up the stairs to his dorm room.

Ron shook his head, looking at Dean.

"Took one too many bludgers to the head. You hate to see it."

~oOo~

Harry ate a hearty breakfast that next morning, the weight of the rolled up parchment in his pocket a comforting companion. It might not be written by a lawyer, but he thought the terms were pretty tight.

In exchange for two hours of unrestricted sexual favours paid to Harry by one Daphne Greengrass (and only Daphne Greengrass, no polyjuice tricks thank you), Harry Potter would ensure that the bill restricting the sale of Wiggendulm potions would have the support of the Black family, currently led by Sirius Black.

Certain provisions were included to prevent foul play; indeed, during the whole two hours in which Daphne would be at his disposal, she would not even be allowed to say 'I have a headache'. In truth it was a beautiful thing, probably the best work Harry had ever produced. Yes, including that Gwenog Jones/Valmai Morgan fanfiction he had written in his fifth year, though that had been pretty good too.

Understandably, Harry found it hard to focus on the day's classes, especially as the clock seemed to wind down slower than usual. The final bell did end up ringing, however, and he sprinted down the corridors to the abandoned classroom.

Daphne waited on him alone, looking almost obnoxiously beautiful despite the bulky robe around her shoulders. She did not bother to exchange pleasantries, merely taking the contract from his hands to read it.

It seemed to satisfy her. She read it again, made a few minor addendums, and then asked him about the specifics.

Harry shrugged. "The prefect bathroom? Around five? I can think of a few activities to build up the appetite before dinner."

Daphne nodded seriously, ignoring his wiggling eyebrows. "The day after the vote," she reminded him.

"Of course, of course. And the forfeit?"

"The forfeit?" Daphne asked curiously.

"Yeah, in case you don't fulfill your end of the bargain."

He had been rather focused on that, for obvious reasons.

"Don't be silly," Daphne said. "Magic determines the punishment for voiding a contract."

"Magic?"

She looked at him as if he was a bit simple. "Yes, magic."

"Alright then."

And so the date of the vote came and went, with Sirius casting the deciding vote, and though Harry's vivid dreams prevented him from getting much rest, he was still brimming with energy the following day.

"Detention, Potter." Snape smiled nastily. "This evening at five. Don't be late."

The Slytherins in the classroom tittered, whilst the rest of the students tried to keep their heads down. Hermione, bless her, was brimming with indignation by his side, figure partially obscured by the billowing steam emerging from her cauldron.

"Whatever for, professor?" Harry asked.

Greasy hair fell over Snape's face, but Harry could still see the malice in his eyes. "Once again, you produce work of substandard quality. I will not put up with your incompetence any longer."

Harry looked down at the small burbling pool of purple at Snape's feet.

"I think you would have found the draught to be quite standard if you hadn't dropped it, professor."

Snape flashed his yellow teeth. "Make it two hours then, for your cheek."

Two hours. What an extraordinary coincidence. Harry thought.

He still nodded courteously, and proceeded to collect his things. Snape seemed disappointed at his lack of reaction, but Harry saw little point to getting angry. It was not like he was planning on going anyways.

"That's so unfair!" Hermione whispered in his ear.

"Get a move on," he replied, not bothering to be as quiet. "I don't want to be here a minute longer than I have to."

Hermione hurried to place her ingredients in her bag, dreading the prospect of being left alone with the Slytherin's in Snape's classroom. She need not have worried; Harry had taken NEWT level Potions, despite very much not wanting to, to prevent precisely that scenario from ever occurring.

"You have Runes now, right?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

"I'll walk you to it. I have an hour before Herbology."

"Look out Harry!"

Ron's warning was unnecessary. A shield sprouted from Harry's wand to cover both of them, and the green hex bounced back off it, heading straight back to his caster.

Goyle immediately doubled over, retching horribly. He began to vomit slugs, one after the other, collapsing to his knees as his fat face grew pale from disgust and lack of air.

"The fuck's your problem mate?" Ron asked angrily, brandishing his wand.

Harry stopped him with one hand, keeping an eye out for future assailants. The path back to the castle from the greenhouses seemed empty, but Harry, more so than anyone else, knew that appearances could be misleading.

"I don't think we're getting any answers out of him right now, Ron."

Both boys looked down to see Goyle burping out a particularly large black slug, on his hands and knees.

"Yeah you're right." Ron shuddered with disgust. "Not for a few hours at least. Serves him right."

Harry paused. "A few hours, you said?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "It's the Slug-vomiting Charm. Will wear off on its own, but only after a while."

My, my, Harry thought, as the two friends made their way back to the great hall. The coincidences just keep piling up.

Ginny sat down by his side, placing her bag between her legs.

"Oh, hey Gin. Fancied going for seconds?"

The girl froze. "Um, what do you mean?"

"I mean that you finished lunch about ten minutes ago and went off to speak with McGonagall, and yet here you are again."

'Ginny' stuttered out an excuse, but Harry wasn't really paying attention, a wicked idea beginning to form in his mind.

He leaned towards her with a large smile, his left hand dipping underneath the table to rest on her knee.

"Don't get me wrong," he said. "I'm very glad to see you. Very, very, glad..."

As he spoke, his hand started to move, dipping underneath her skirt to rest against her warm skin. The girl jerked her knee slightly, but remained frozen in place, staring at him with large wide eyes. He caressed her inner thigh, trailing upwards with deliberate slowness.

"Seeing as you're here, why don't we go someplace quiet together. There's a very cozy broom cupboard on the way to Charms..."

His knuckles brushed against the soft fabric of her knickers and the girl bolted from her seat, face burning and mumbling some sort of excuse. She fled the table, leaving behind her bag and her half filled plate.

Harry could not keep the amusement from his voice. "Where are you going?" he called out. "You didn't even finish your dessert!"

Ginny's brisk pace turned into a run, and she disappeared from the great hall.

Harry picked up the abandoned bag curiously. He wasn't surprised to see a bottle of pumpkin juice amidst its contents, though he did wonder what exactly it was supposed to do to whoever drank it. He looked towards the Slytherin table, but Daphne was conspicuously absent.

Curious, very curious...

Plausible deniability? Or had she taken matters in her own hands? Whatever it was, Harry was sick of it. He strode over to the Slytherin table, leaving the bag at Pansy Parkinsons feet, and left before she could say anything to him.

It was clear Daphne was not planning on playing fair, and so it was only fair he should do likewise. He looked down at his wristwatch, obtained exclusively for today, as he exited the great hall.

Luckily, he should have just about enough time.

~oOo~

"Potter. I see you made it here in one piece."

Daphne waited for him by the door of the prefect's bathroom, which stood slightly ajar. She looked as beautiful as always, though Harry felt the slightest impulse to slap that perfectly nonchalant look from her face. There would be time enough for that later, however.

"No thanks to you," Harry grumbled, pushing the door open.

Daphne followed him in. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I'm sure of it too."

Harry dropped his schoolbag, taking a moment to check no one else was currently in the bathroom with them. Though it really should not have been called a bathroom. The swimming pool at the center of the marble tiled room was as big as ten baths, enough to do a few laps and more. It was already full of slightly steamy water, and Harry felt some of the day's tension release from his shoulder. Aside from a small pile of forgotten clothes in the corner, they were all alone.

"Make sure we're undisturbed, would you Mia?"

The blonde mermaid inside the painting gave him a wink, leaving the frame for the one just right outside in the corridor. Harry followed through by closing the door and locking it with a well-placed charm.

He turned to see Daphne looking at him with her eyes upturned, idly fidgeting with her braid, as she stood in between him and the billowing pool.

He did not think about it too much. He strode to her and unclasped her robes, pushing them off her shoulders. She made no motion to resist him, merely straightening her arms to let them drop around her. Harry put both arms around her waist, bringing her close to him. She felt as good in his arms as he thought she would.

"You do not waste a moment, Potter," Daphne said.

"I don't have a lot of time."

Daphne laughed softly. "You have two full hours."

Harry leaned down to capture those enticing red lips, but Daphne looked slightly to one side avoiding his own. He growled warningly as he traced her jaw with his lips.

"I'd like to go for a swim," she said lightly.

"You seem to have forgotten that it's what I want that matters."

She looked up at him with a half smile. "I thought you might appreciate seeing me in my bathing suit."

He paused at that, and Daphne's smile got even wider as her hands left his forearm to slowly unbutton her shirt.

She had not been lying when she claimed she was only wearing a bathing suit. With the fifth button gone Harry got the chance to properly look at the object of many a daydream; Daphne's breasts. They sat heavy on her chest, covered only by a silver bikini top in the shape of a triangle. She finished unbuttoning her shirt, and he drank from the sight, before she pushed off him slightly, letting it fall by her feet.

"Aren't you going to change?" she asked teasingly, stepping off her shoes.

Harry began to pull his clothes off as quickly as he could, a task made a bit harder by the fact that he did not want to miss a single moment of Daphne disrobing. His tie proved particularly bothersome, but almost choking himself was worth it when he got to witness Daphne bend down slightly to pull down her socks, a sight that sent all sorts of happy tingles all over his body.

Finally, after much fanfare, they stood in front of each other clothed only in their bathing suits. Harry caught Daphne giving him the once and over, eyes skittering over his chest, and was glad that all those pushups he had done ten minutes ago had not been in vain. He, of course, returned the favour, though it was more than once and it took a while before it was over.

Daphne was simply gorgeous, with soft ivory skin and an hourglass figure that looked almost sculptured. It was almost supernatural. The wonders of magic, or genetics? Either way, Harry did not care.

"Come." She offered her hand.

He took it, and she led him down the warm steps, shivering slightly as her toes first touched the warm water. Her bikini bottoms were low on her hips, failing to cover much of her shapely bottom. They were cutely side-tied, and Harry only resisted pulling at the knot with great effort.

"It feels great," she said. Then she let go of his hand to lower herself down into the pool, until only her upper body was visible, water sloshing around her breasts. In between the soft billows of steam, she looked like a water nymph.

"Come," she repeated, wading deeper into the pool.

She could have tempted the Gods, and he was but a mere mortal.

Harry followed her in, almost moaning at the sensation of the warm water caressing his skin. Steam was all around him, and he breathed in cinnamon and a hint of something else, and idly wondered what bath salts Daphne had used to make it so sweet smelling. He sighed with contentment, it really did feel very nice, much nicer than a warm bath ought to feel...

He turned on himself, feeling slightly dazed.

"Daphne?" he asked.

Water swirled behind him.

"I'm right here," she whispered in his ear. Her warm breath sent shivers up his spine and he leaned back to her touch, floating on his back with his head in her hands, her fingers working magic down his scalp.

"Daphne?"

"Hmmm?"

Harry sighed, feeling mightily drained, and closed his eyes.

"Nevermind."

When he awoke the first thing he noticed was that he was still sleepy. The second, that the hands of the watch on his wrist had moved frighteningly quickly. He would have cursed if he had the strength. Almost all of the two hours were gone, and not even a sad handy. Christ, he hadn't even seen her naked.

He realised that he was still gently floating in the water, aided no doubt by some charm. He looked around and saw Daphne sitting by the edge of the pool, reading a book. Something about that bothered him, but his thoughts were just as fogged as the tiles of the bathroom floor.

"Hey," he whispered groggily.

"Hey," she returned, lifting his face to smile at him. "You fell asleep."

"Fancy that, first time I fall asleep before sex, rather than afterwards."

Daphne chuckled. "I'm afraid you are being optimistic. There are only three minutes left before the two hours are through."

"Oh yeah, right." Harry waded back to the shallow end of the pool. Even that little motion took some effort. "Well it's a shame. I do feel absolutely knackered though, so maybe it's for the best."

She smiled beatifically at him. "Need a hand?"

"No, I think I can get out on my own."

He managed to, not without his legs shaking slightly. He went to his bag, and retrieved his wand, shooting some cold water into his face. He dressed quickly before taking a small hourglass necklace from a small pouch inside his bag.

Daphne was still toweling off when he gently placed the golden chain around both their necks. She turned to him with a half-smile.

"What is it?"

"This? Oh, just a time turner."

And before she could do more than look alarmed he twisted the hourglass with two sharp turns.

~oOo~

"I cannot believe you did that."

Daphne's bare feet tapped lightly against the stone floor of the castle corridor as she struggled to keep by his side. Harry could not imagine it was a pleasant sensation, cold as the floor must be.

"Believe it or not, it just happened. You and I are going to get a second chance to get acquainted, without whatever charm you put in the pool getting in the way."

Harry paused in front of the empty corridor, allowing her to catch up.

"The contract says the prefect's bathroom at five," Daphne said. She was panting slightly from the exertion of having had to follow his frenetic pace up two flights of stairs. "We can't go back to the prefect's bathroom now, our past selves are in there!"

Despite his anger, Harry had to appreciate the sight of her heaving chest, still only covered by her bikini top. He had not allowed her to put her robes back on, and so she had made the trip in nothing but her bathing suit. She had been lucky in that no student had crossed their path, but a fair few paintings had gotten quite the show. Due to the chill, Daphne's nipples were now straining quite insistently against her top, which was an unintended side-effect of his decision, if a rather welcome one.

"Well mine is asleep, and I could just stun and obliviate yours. Fortunately there is another prefect's bathroom, so it's not necessary."

Daphne crossed her arms. "I've never heard of it."

"Not my problem." He stared at the wall. He needed something similar to the prefect's bathroom, so Daphne would not be suspicious, but he also wanted a bed for the night's activities. Maybe a massage room? Something with a jacuzzi?

"Potter… Harry…"

He ignored her, but she pulled on his arm, forcing him to break from his thoughts.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Right now, I'm leaning towards spanking you, and then shagging you," Harry said. "Repeatedly. Another option is inviting the Gryffindor quidditch team over and have you dance naked for them. I am the team captain after all, I need to find ways to keep up morale."

She reeled back. "I… you can't."

"I can't?" Harry breathed through his nose. "Whatever perversion, you said. Perhaps you should have chosen your words more carefully."

"I didn't mean…" She searched desperately for a way out. "Please Potter, we can still have fun, just not... like this."

"Oh, shut up. And you can call me daddy as you promised from now on, or we can invite Dobby to take part in whatever we end up doing. I don't know if you've met him but he is an excitable little fellow."

Daphne started to cry, but Harry saw that it was fake. She was better at it than his fat cousin Dudley, but only just. Clearly the little pureblood princess had not felt the need to practise much over the years.

"Nice try, but theater is clearly not your forte."

Daphne cleared her tears with both hands furiously. "I'd be careful on how you go about this Potter, I have a long memory, and plenty of dangerous friends."

"Don't worry," Harry said, walking backwards and forwards three times until a door materialised. "I intend to leave everyone plenty satisfied."

The room of requirement, at his request, was now fashioned after the prefect's bathroom two floors below, only the tub was smaller and circular, and there was a massage bed next to it, with a pillow the shape of a heart. A bit obvious? Perhaps, but it created the perfect ambiance as far as Harry was concerned. The only thing that was missing was a few scented candles. Perhaps a bit of soft music too...

"I'm not wearing that."

Daphne was looking at the black satin negligee strewn over the bed, which Harry had also requested from the room, along with a matching string laced thong. Both pieces left very little to the imagination, which was, of course, the point.

"Yes you are," Harry said. "Unless you prefer to breach the terms of the contract?"

Daphne opened her mouth, then she closed her eyes.

"Turn around then."

"No."

She flashed her eyes at him, biting the inside of her cheek.

"... please?"

"No."

"Fine," she huffed.

She stood by the foot of the bed, and proceeded to divest herself of her swimming suit in jerky movements. Harry did close his eyes, but not out of concern for her privacy, but to keep it a surprise for his future self. Well, even more future self, he supposed he was already the future self of his currently napping present self.

Time to stop thinking about time before he gave himself a headache.

He approached her once she was dressed, if wearing such an outfit constituted as much, but she shied away from his touch, turning her back towards him.

"Daphne," Harry warned. "You promised." He brushed her golden hair to one side to lay a small kiss on the nape of her neck.

She shivered slightly. "You cheated," she said.

"So did you." He circled her waist from behind with both arms, smelling the shampoo on her hair. Daphne tensed up slightly, and he kissed the back of her neck again. The nightgown felt incredibly soft in his hands, and delightfully warmed up by her body. "Can't fault me for being better at it than you are."

But she did, if the way she wiggled away from his grasp was any indication.

"Fine then. Give me your hands," he ordered.

"What?"

"Your hands," Harry repeated, taking his tie out of his pocket.

"Potter… I… "

"Don't worry," Harry said. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not an animal."

"Then why tie me up?"

He gave her a wink. "Just to make sure you don't scratch, that's all."

Despite her clear reluctance, Daphne complied, and he tied both her hands together behind her back. Then, he led her gently towards the bed, instructing her to lay face down on it.

If Daphne had looked gorgeous with her swimming suit, she looked positively delectable in that black negligee, laying on her belly and breathing hard, flustered by the position she had found herself in. Harry's eyes ran up her long bare legs until they met the rear of her bum. There, the little black string of her thong failed to cover anything save the essential.

"Potter," she breathed, as he sat by her side. "W-what are you… what are you going to do to me?"

Harry gave her a winsome smile. "Well it's a massage bed, right? I'm going to give you one, of course."

It surprised her slightly, he thought. Maybe she expected him to go straight for her cunny, but he wasn't that much of a cunt himself.

He started slowly, fingers strictly on her shoulders, never straying into dangerous territory. Now, Harry didn't think he had a big head - matter of fact, he knew he had a big head, he had measured it - but more importantly he knew how to massage the tension out of a pair of pretty shoulders. It had been a useful tool for him in the past, and he hoped it would be useful now too.

"Relax," he murmured in her ear. "It will feel better."

"You shan't make me enjoy it, Potter." She trembled. "Whatever you plan on doing."

But her little shivers belied her words, as Harry continued to gently massage her back, peppering little kisses in the nape of her neck and shoulders to amuse himself as he worked on her body. She was soft and feminine, and smelled of salts and shampoo, and there was barely anything between his hands and her naked body. She felt incredibly warm and yet she did not seem like she was warming up to him at all, despite his best efforts.

"So," Harry said, as his hands made gentle circles on her shoulders, hoping to distract her from her misgivings. "What was so important about that Winzengamot vote?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, given the lengths you went to secure the result, I'm kinda curious."

"My father is broke," Daphne said. She turned around to look at him. "He needs all the help he can get from the ministry, or he'll be forced to liquidate his assets and marry me off. There you go, happy?"

Harry had to laugh. "What a devious little viper you are. Your father is one of the richest men in the country. It'll take a much better lie to make me feel sorry for you."

"I doubt anything would stop you from your purpose," Daphne said, with slightly flushed cheeks. "Going by that thing pressing into my thigh."

And indeed, Harry's little partner had been tenting his pants for quite some time, and was now poking the blonde witch hello. He saw no point in denying it.

"You are the most beautiful girl in school," Harry said simply. "It's a shame you're such a frigid bitch."

"I'm not a-"

She yelped as he pinched her bum.

"Don't lie to me," he said. "You really got a great bum, by the way. Do you play Quidditch?"

"F-fuck you."

"Is that a proposition?"

"In your dreams."

"Trust me, Daphne," he said, "by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for it."

He did not let her think about her reply, turning her around to kneel in between her parted thighs.

"Tell me what you like," he said, pushing her nightgown up to kiss her exposed belly button.

"W-what?"

He kissed down, until his lips found her thong, a scant few inches from the subtle mound of her sex. He got a good whiff of her then, and didn't much mind the smell.

"You know." He waved his hand. "Tell me what you'd like me to do."

He looked up to see her wide eyed expression. It really did look like she didn't know what he was talking about, although she suspected.

"Alright then," he said. "I guess I'll just have to figure it out on me own."

He hooked a thumb around the string of her thong, and then pulled down, revealing her little pussy. She was bare down under, which made it rather easy for him. Ignoring her tiny squeak of surprise, he pulled her thong down enough to leave it dangling from her left ankle, before pressing one leg flat against the bed with his hand, as he hooked the other around his shoulders.

"W-wait… what are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?"He gave her pussy a tentative lick, and her breath hitched.

"W-wait… d-don't do that…"

There wasn't much strength in her voice, however, and tied and spread as she was, she couldn't do much else than squirm slightly anyways. Harry licked her again, eliciting another small gasp, before kissing the inside of her thigh.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you before, Daphne?

She didn't have to say anything. He could see the answer clearly in those shocked green eyes.

"Close your eyes then," he said. "But don't be shy." He winked. "If you want me to do something, just ask."

The girl did not respond, and so Harry started to work, burying his face in between her legs.

Harry took his time to coax out her clit, and Daphne's hitched breath soon turned into muffled moans and even the occasional whimper. A part of Harry enjoyed the slow undoing of the haughty blonde's composure, although a different part of him also asked why his tongue was doing something his cock had been designed to do instead.

It's like you don't appreciate me anymore, he imagined his dick was saying. He almost made himself laugh, which given his current situation, would not have been ideal.

Harry felt his chin moisten with Daphne's arousal, and he paused to give it a curious lick. It tasted... well, like pussy. The girl was evidently well groomed, but a clean pussy wasn't a restaurant dish regardless.

Still, Harry went to work on her clit with good cheer, once he had it lodged between his lips. He used all the classics; the floor brush, around the world, painting the wall, guiding himself with her poorly contained sighs and little moans, which soon increased in frequency and pitch. Harry found a steady rhythm which had her well and worked up, and Daphne began to rock her hips, to all but grind against his nose.

"I'm close… I'm so close."

Harry thought about slowing it down, bringing her from the edge and then back again, to see if he could really get her to beg for it. The problem was that he really didn't want to spend all night doing this; the sooner she came the sooner they could move on to more interesting activities. Or more interesting for him, at least.

"It's too much," Daphne whined. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably. "I'm going to - Morgana, I'm going to c-"

A lonely finger in her twat undid her, and Harry was glad to hear her strangled scream, as she arched off the bed sheets, body writhing with ecstasy. He followed up with a few slow licks of her clit, as she clenched hard around his finger, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from her shaking form.

The result of his efforts were, of course, that Daphne came, and came hard. Her eyes rolled into her head, and her arousal splashed on the bed.

Harry rose with a grin, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

"Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

Daphne was still caught in the aftershock of her orgasm, tremors running down her back. She leaned on her side, body flushed, and completely unable to speak. Despite the sweat, the hair, and her overall messy state, she still looked more than desirable.

"Here," he said, untying her hands. "I don't think it is needed anymore."

Daphne used her now free hand to grab his arm and pull it towards her, and he understood that she wanted him to hold her in his arms. They spooned as she slowly recovered, breathing softly. He kissed the back of her neck and shoulders and she shifted in his arms.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now I'd thought I'd make love to you."

"Are you asking me, or are you telling me?"

He chuckled. "Put your arms out."

She did so, and he pulled her nightgown off her shoulders. It was stuck to her body with sweat so it took him a few tries before he actually accomplished it.

"Lie on your back," he instructed, before removing his own clothes.

She did so, an arm across her chest.

"Really Daphne?" He took her arms and pinned them atop her head.

Daphne's breasts were all that was promised and more, full but still perky, pale but with delightful little pink nipples. Harry gave each a fondle and a quick kiss. Ok, maybe more than one.

"Are you going to play with my breasts all night?"

Harry snorted. "Not a chance."

He positioned himself on top of her, and then kissed her. She didn't avoid his lips this time, though she had more reason now than the two times before. On his end, finally claiming her mouth felt all the better with the knowledge that Daphne was tasting herself on his tongue.

But if that felt good, it was nothing compared to when he finally entered her.

She was well and ready for him, though that did not prevent her from moaning as he bottomed out, nor him from almost crossing his eyes with pure pleasure.

Sex was always great, but there was nothing better than shagging a beautiful woman.

She shifted slightly beneath to accommodate him, and he kissed her neck as he let her adjust. There was no rush, after all, he could take his time.

Slowly, luxuriously, he made love to Daphne Greengrass.

She threw her arms lazily around his neck, and seemed to simply enjoy their coupling, the heat of his body, their intimate breaths, his gentle but purposeful movements.

Harry lost himself in the experience, in Daphne, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, words of love which he did not know if he meant but which did mellow her to him somewhat, if the way she hooked her legs around his waist was any indication. Aided by the easier penetration, and added friction, he soon picked up his pace, until he could hold it no more and he found his release too.

She nuzzled his neck as he rested on top of her, enjoying the contact of skin against skin.

"Good?" she whispered.

"Great," he replied. "But I'm not done yet."

Round two was an altogether different affair. Daphne had already broken her vow of not enjoying herself, but he wanted to see if he could make her climax again. So he stood by the bed, and dragged her legs off the edge. He slipped back inside her and Daphne found herself with one leg lifted above Harry's shoulder, the other trapped below him as he relentlessly pounded her most vulnerable spot.

It did not take long before her enjoyment became loudly heard. She eventually grasped his hand to suckle his thumb, either to contain her gasps of pleasure or to egg him on with the rather erotic sight. She didn't need to if the latter was her intention, the sight of her breasts wobbling with their motions was erotic enough. Not to mention the other part of her that was suckling something else of his.

Knowing himself about to reach the end of his rope again, Harry used his free hand to massage her clit, using Daphne's own saliva as lubricant, alternating between the penetration of her core and a vigorous rubbing of her pleasure center. Daphne clawed the bedsheets, arching her back invitingly in a way that Harry now knew meant that she was on the verge. So he put one of her nipples in his mouth and pushed her off it.

Daphne orgasmed again, less explosively perhaps, but in a far nicer way for him, balls deep as he was inside her. She clenched hard against his cock, the walls of her sex shivering around him and the sensation almost pushed him towards his own release. He pulled out, just to avoid that fate.

"Gods," Daphne moaned as he did, rubbing her thighs together. She went to one side again, wriggling slightly against the bed sheets.

Taking advantage of her afterglow. Harry turned her fully over, until she was lying on her belly. Daphne seemed content to be along for the ride now, if the ease which she let herself be manhandled was any indication. He once again entered her, this time from behind, despite her moan of protest. She might be sore, but he was not yet finished.

He took her from behind for their third time together. He kissed and bit her possessively alongside her spine, and she angled her head backwards, chin raised, mouth slightly parted, lips blindly seeking his own. He took her blonde hair and forced her face back into the pillow, as he began to pick up his rhythm. Her moans came out muffled, but the way she tipped up her hips and pushed back against his thrusts told him just how much she was enjoying it.

Then he pinned her arms behind her back, and drove into her as if he were an animal after all, and not even the pillow could quiet her screams.

Looking back at it, it was likely that Daphne did actually come again, but at that moment Harry was far too busy with his own orgasm to really pay much attention to anything else. He leaned on her back, as he felt his strength leave him, along with something else of his.

"Lord almighty," he groaned. "Jesus Christ and all his angels."

Daphne chuckled breathlessly underneath him, and Harry pulled on her braid slightly, arching her backwards like a bow, dimpling her back. She reclined back to lean against his chest, still sitting in between his legs.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

She shook her head and kissed his cheek.

Harry grabbed the back of her neck and angled her face for a kiss.

"You haven't said it all night, you know," he grumbled.

"Said what?"

"Daddy."

There was that breathless chuckle again.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He kissed her again, and pushed her back down.

"Lie on your side," he told her.

"Again?" she asked disbelievingly. Her voice was hoarse after all her screaming.

"Why not?" Harry said. "You're so bloody beautiful, you could keep me going all night."

Well, that and the little magic blue pill he had taken earlier, but there was no reason why he should have mentioned that.

Daphne was plainly dubitative, but he planned on making their fourth time gentle. He didn't want to spoil the evening, after all.

So he lied behind her, and spooned her in his arms, lifting her leg just enough to slip back inside her sex. He rocked gently inside her, hardly doing anything other than making her feel full. Daphne nuzzled his neck and grasped his hand and they cuddled and half dozed, basking in their warmth and their recent memories.

"Come inside me, Harry," she whispered in his ear, after some time.

And so he did. And then, finally, he was done.

They lay there in each other's arms, breathing softly. He even feared she had fallen asleep, exhausted by their activities, but she stirred again only after a few minutes.

"You are not at all how I imagined," she said.

"And how did you imagine me?" Harry asked. "Is it common for Slytherin girls to fantasize about Gryffindor boys?" he teased.

"It is normal to want that which you cannot have. Besides, you are not the worst looking boy in school."

Harry did not know what to say at this confession, but he was rather pleased. He bit her neck gently in reward and the blonde witch sighed.

"So, beside myself, who were the other three lucky witches that received your attention?"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells."

Daphne sniffed. "A gentleman would not have had me as you did."

Harry was silent, not really knowing what to say.

"Weasley was one, of that I'm sure," Daphne said. "Bones or Abbot for Hufflepuff, they are the only ones who could have caught your eye. As for Ravenclaw… Cho Chang?"

"Cho is engaged."

"Chang is a slut."

Harry cleared his throat slightly. That he had not known.

"And who will the rumour mill say is the lucky girl from Slytherin?" he asked, trying to move the conversation along.

Daphne tensed slightly. "Tracy, or one of the sixth years, a Carrow perhaps."

"Not a certain Greengrass, even though Sirius Black voted along with her father?" Harry inquired.

"No, as my father is neither the sponsor of the bill, nor its main beneficiary."

He nodded, nuzzling her neck so she would understand. "Right, I get it."

She relaxed, and turned around in his arms, kissing him gently and extricating herself from his arms.

"See that you do."

She sat on the bed and stretched slightly. A lovely sight.

"I'm going to shower. You can join me if you wish."

"I don't think there are actually any showers." He hadn't thought of asking the room for them, so they were not present.

"I thought this room was the other prefect's bathroom? What kind of bathroom doesn't have showers?"

Whoops.

"Erm well, a French one?"

Daphne stared at him incredulously. Then she laughed.

"How wrong we were about you Potter. I shall have to inform my house, I wouldn't want to see any more innocent snakes falling prey to your wiles." She shook her head. "Merlin, how is it that you are not a Slytherin?"

"If I knew how you'd turn out, I'd have made more of an effort to be sorted there."

Daphne snorted. A most ungainly noise from a young pureblood lady. Then again, she had made plenty of those in their time together.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking this means more than it does. Or that I am any less angered."

"Angered for what? For fulfilling your part of the deal? We both got what we wanted, doubly so for you."

"I take it back; you are a Gryffindor. That huge head of yours wouldn't fit into any other house."

Harry thought of a very obvious pun (of Gryffindor heads and Slytherin chambers), but decided not to speak his mind, for once.

"What I am is irrelevant, what I did however, is make the Hogwarts four, which would make me the first in what… fifty years? I still need your knickers by the way."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, let's go back to the prefect's bathroom, our past selves should be about to leave."

"Yeah, in about… five minutes."

She stood by the bed, and Harry saw her knees wobble.

"Need a hand?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You made me come, Potter, you did not break my legs."

Harry stood by her. "Well, in your defence, it happened more than once"

"So you say."

Harry chuckled. "I say I gave you the best orgasm of your life."

Daphne's reply died with a yelp as he picked her up, and carried her back to her bed.

"Put me down, you brute."

He laughed, and kissed her cheek.

"I'll go get your stuff. You stay here and rest."

"Hmmph. Alright. But we're not having sex again."

"Would that I could, Daphne," Harry said. "Would that I could."

He popped down to the prefect's bathroom, now empty of even their past selves, and brought everything back to the room of requirement. Daphne wasn't in the bed anymore, she was in the tub, having a bubbly bath. Harry was tempted to join her, but he didn't want to test his luck. More than he had already, that is.

"Here," he said. "Your clothes and your bag."

"And my wand?"

"Left it in the prefect's bathroom. You'll have to go and get it yourself, I'm afraid. Call it a reasonable precaution."

Daphne splashed him with the water of the tub. "I was enjoying this bath, you know. Now I'm going to have to cut it short. I wasn't going to curse you anyways."

"So you say."

"My revenge would never be so crude, if I were to have it."

Harry smiled widely. "If?"

"Oh turn around, you insufferable Gryffindor."

Harry complied. He heard her get out of the tub, and get dressed, and he didn't even peek once. He didn't really need to after all, he had seen it all before, and more. He started to wonder whether he should commit to that pensieve purchase he had been considering all this time. No matter the cost, the memories it could hold would probably triple its value.

"You know the two hours are technically still not up, right? Meaning that you should still call me like you promised."

He felt her behind him, he turned and was surprised when she kissed him lightly, slipping her knickers into his hand.

"See you around, daddy," Daphne breathed. The words sent shivers down his spine.

Then she turned and she was gone.

Harry was left alone with his memories and his thoughts. And Daphne's knickers, of course. They even smelled nice.

He looked down. He had won the bet. Four witches, four houses. Four lovely memories. So why did he feel so empty all of a sudden?

It's because you haven't had dinner yet, you muppet.

Oh, right. Yeah, that made sense.

The only doubt he now had was whether he should inform Seamus he had won, and have him dance naked in the great hall for the whole school as promised, or whether he should keep quiet for a few days and continue to watch him getting shot down by all the Slytherin girls.

Or...

A wicked idea suddenly occurred to him, and Harry had to grin.

He could do it all over again.

AN: First part done. If you want to see the second part, 15 Liberian dollars to the following account: cursedchildbiggestfan .

Just kidding of course. But a review would be nice.