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After Tracey left, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. All along, he had been afraid that she would change her mind and think that trying to deface him was an excellent idea after all. Fortunately, she really cared about Daphne. He hadn't planned to make such a proposal to her; he hadn't expected it at all so early on (and he should have expected it!), but there's no such thing as a good thing. Although, unfortunately, he will not realize his fantasies with Daphne (at least not in the foreseeable future), but with Tracey, it could be no less interesting. He was going to, at least for the time being, stick to the terms of the deal and be the perfect boyfriend for Daphne, Prince Charming. As for Tracey, he felt a growing fascination with this tattooed girl, about whom he actually knew little.

He was sure that she would not be like Daphne. Oh no! She won't surrender to him so that he can do what he likes with her. She certainly won't give up without a fight. At least not from the beginning. He was curious about what he would make her do. While in Daphne's case her total helplessness excited him, her inability to oppose him, in Tracey's case it seemed tempting to break her resistance, to gradually take power over her. He was curious how far she could go, what she would allow him to do to protect her friendship with Daphne. Yeah, it's going to be interesting.

But for now, he has to smooth things over with his (probably still) girlfriend. Judging from Tracey's reaction to what he told her, this shouldn't be too difficult. He started looking for her. He came across her just before entering the Great Hall.

"Daphne," he began, "listen, I wanted you..."

—

Tracey flashed furiously around her room. What did she agree to? She let herself be provoked like a 12-year-old girl. Angrily, she slammed the door. "I should gut him," she thought. But then her thoughts wandered to Daphne, and she felt a little better. For now, her friend is safe. She didn't think Harry would dare to break their agreement. She knew she wouldn't give him that. And she has to get out of this situation somehow. She heard a knock on the door.

"Daphne, don't be silly and come in," she said.

She went in. They hadn't spoken since last night, so Tracey wanted to know if everything was okay with her friend, and she was also curious about what she wanted. Fortunately, she didn't look too bad.

"What is it?" she asked.

Daphne had an uncertain look on her face, as if she was hesitating whether she should definitely say what she was going to say, but in the end she did it.

"I met Harry."

Tracey kept a stony face and asked,

"What did he want?"

"To apologize. And to make an appointment for Wednesday."

Tracey nodded, but did not speak. Daphne bit her lip and asked,

"Do you think I should go?"

Tracey shrugged her shoulders and answered calmly,

"That's your business. You yourself told me not to interfere."

Daphne blushed slightly, clearly embarrassed.

"I know, but... he apologized, he almost begged me to forgive him, so I think I should go and what do you think?" she said the last words on one breath, so Tracey guessed what her friend said rather than heard it.

She sighed. She knew Daphne didn't really want to hear her opinion at all, but words of support.

"Well, you know. If he apologized and promised that... Then you can always give him a second chance," she choked out with difficulty.

Daphne embraced her, saying,

"Thank you." After which she ran out of the room.

Tracey squirmed as if she had just swallowed a frog, and a sizable one at that. There was no point in discouraging Daphne from Harry now. It would do nothing. At most, she would be offended. She heard knocking on the window, saw an owl there with a short note "Tuesday. Three Broomsticks Inn rooms for rent. 17". Asshole. He wants to see her the day before his date with Daphne. At the hotel. Like with a whore! After a while, however, she calmed down. He wants to upset her in this way. She can't let him do it, and if the opportunity presents itself, he will withdraw from this sick arrangement.

—

On Tuesday, Tracey woke up quite early. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was nervous, she guessed what Harry would expect from her (it was hard not to guess it, during their conversation he didn't hide his intentions), but as they say the devil is in the details. She also didn't know how things would work out between her and Daphne if she ever finally got rid of Harry. Would they continue to be friends? She also felt a slight twinge of remorse. After all, if you look at it, what she was planning to do was very wrong. However, she quickly recovered. This was a time for action, not thinking.

She wouldn't admit it even to herself, but she was curious about this evening. She was curious what he was really like, what exactly he had planned for himself. In the hidden recesses of her mind, which she was not even aware of herself, there was also a slight excitement about Harry, her friend's boyfriend, being interested in her, however abnormal that interest might be.

She lay for a while, trying to fall asleep again, giving up and deciding that she might as well show up early for lessons. So she got up and started getting ready to leave, tried to move quietly, but it turned out that she had woken Daphne anyway, as the latter looked out of the room and asked,

"Are you up already? What time is it?"

"It's still early. Go back to bed," Tracey replied.

"Then why did you get up?" asked Daphne self-consciously.

"I want to leave lessons early, because I have something to do later."

"Aha!" exclaimed Tracey's friend. "You're meeting someone!"

"What?"

"You're meeting someone," she repeated, "otherwise you would have said what you were going to do. You're dating someone, right?"

Tracey was so surprised (and probably a little sleep-deprived) that she could not come up with any lie on the spot, so, not trusting her voice, she nodded.

"Super," Daphne looked genuinely delighted, "who are you dating? Is it a boy or a girl?"

Tracey got nervous.

"What do you care? First yourself..."

"I'm sorry. I was just curious. I didn't mean..."

"It's a boy," interrupted Tracey.

"Boyfriend? Do I know him? I'm sorry," Daphne retorted. - I'm just curious.

"No, you don't. It's bye," cut off Tracey.

—

Tracey got out of the carriage; she still had a 15-minute walk to the Three Broomsticks Inn. She decided the walk would do her good; it would calm her down a bit. It worked. When she entered the main room, she was subdued and determined, and promised herself she wouldn't let herself be led off balance. The receptionist, a short, rather attractive brunette who had been hired after the war, greeted her.

"Good morning," she greeted her. "What can I do for you?"

Tracey realized the idiot had not given her the room number. She was already about to back out and call him, but decided she could ask first.

"Good morning. I have an appointment with Harry Potter. Do you?.."

"Oh yes, Mr. Harry mentioned you." the immediate switch to "you" did not escape Tracey's attention. So did the ill-concealed smile on the girl's face. With difficulty, she restrained herself from hitting her in the face. "Lola, right?" Tracey clenched her fists with rage, but nodded. "Room number thirty. Second floor. Have fun."

Tracey headed toward the stairs, trying to remember what the penalty was for murder with particular cruelty. Too quickly, she come under room number thirty. She tried to calm down, but was still boiling with anger. She hadn't even seen him yet, and he had already completely thrown her off balance, something she wanted to avoid at all costs. She knocked loudly and insistently. He opened it for her. Quickly. Too quickly.

"Well, there you go. You came," he said.

She pushed him inside (it was a rather standard hotel room, white walls, a bed, a table in the corner).

"What the fuck! Lola?!"

"And what was I supposed to give her your real name?" he asked calmly. "Besides," he added, smiling mockingly, "Lola is fit for a prostitute."

"No... I am... a prostitute," she hissed through clenched teeth.

The mocking smile did not disappear from his face.

"Well, I don't know. You're providing me with sexual services in exchange for the benefit you get. Sounds a bit like prostitution."

Tracey clenched her teeth, but did not respond. She was furious, but promised herself that she would not let him provoke her again for anything. "This is for Daphne," she thought. It helped a little. For a moment, they measured each other's eyes in silence. When Tracey would not swallow the bait, Harry inspected her. He croaked:

"How are you dressed?"

Indeed, she was dressed rather carelessly, almost provocatively, loose pants, a hoodie, about two sizes too big for her eye, until it surprised the girl at the front desk. She probably thought she would change in the room. Of course, Tracey never wore typically girly clothes. She tended not to wear dresses she did not run away from tight outfits that stressed her figure.

"Do I need to remind you," he continued that according to our agreement..."

"I am to do whatever you want," she finished for him. "Here. But I dress elsewhere. If you want to see me in another outfit, then bring it here. Besides, you didn't talk about how I should be dressed."

This time it was Harry who clenched his teeth angrily. Tracey felt a little better, seeing that he, too, was not quite in control of his nerves.

"Get undressed!" he growled.

With a slight smile that set on her lips, she pulled off her clothes. She did it mechanically, just as a person who is about to go to bed undresses, there was nothing sexy about it. However, once she was naked again, she felt a little insecure. She was undressed with him in the room. He could do whatever he liked with her, only now she fully felt the weight of the situation. Only now she understood what she had agreed to, but she did not let her uncertainty show.

Harry quickly calmed down. He almost lost control, which could have had lamentable consequences. His advantage over Tracey so far was mainly because he remained calm while she let her emotions get carried away. It was easy to provoke her, and he grasped the advantage of this. In fact, he was annoyed by how she was dressed. He didn't expect her to come to him dressed up, to wear a miniskirt and heeled shoes (she probably wouldn't even know how to walk in them), but her demonstrative disregard made him nervous. Fortunately, however, he regained control of himself. He knew that although Tracey was a tough street girl, she must feel uncomfortable being in the room with him while he was dressed and she is undressed. This gave him an advantage. He decided to make hay while the sun shines.

"Stand up straight! Hands along your body!" he raised his voice.

She followed his command without a murmur and without delay. Smiling slightly, he realized Tracey wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Not to wait. Now he had time to look at her closely, to see her in her full glory. He circled her, like a predator hunting its prey. But he realized that, if one were to continue the comparison, she was difficult prey;She was rather like a wild animal that, driven into a corner, can still go on the counterattack and bite the head of its attacker. Therefore, he knew he had to be extremely careful. As he began his second lap, he took an even closer look at her. She was prettier, more attractive than he had thought when he saw her dressed (and even then she was quite interesting). Although she was no match for Daphne (it's hard to make that a reproach, few girls could compete with her in that regard), she had curves in all the right places, Harry's attention was especially drawn to her ass (his second, even it was covered with tattoos), it looked pleasant to the touch; he knew he would check it organoleptically right away. As for the tattoos, it's a matter of taste, but, while it was apparent that many of them were done without a plan, impulsively, in some strange way they formed a cohesive whole, a good representation of her chaotic personality. Harry felt a growing need to control this chaos, and created a million scenarios in his head about how he would use this body at his disposal, from moderately obscene to extremely obscene scenes. He felt his penis desperately trying to get out of his pants. It was time for action. Calmly but decisively. He stood behind her.

If you want to find out how you can help support me and read stories and chapters not included here, please visit.

Early access to chapters one month ahead

pa treon .com(slash)lovelab (remove the space)