Chapter 71: You're Sleeping With My Sister-in-Law?!
After Hermione had left the party, Harry had succumbed to one of his guilty pleasures: a nice goblet of goblin wine. Or two. Or three.
By the time Luna and Neville had left the reception by Portkey for their honeymoon, the Head Auror was light-headed and tipsy. It was a wonder his feet had managed to carry him to the Floo.
As he now stepped out of the whoosh of green flames, however, Harry frowned: this wasn't his home office. For even his addled mind could just recall that his trusted Deputy Head, Daphne Greengrass had never before stepped foot in Godric's Hol…. Ah, well.
From where she was organizing files on his desk, Daphne glanced up and wrinkled her nose distastefully, appraising the man up and down. "Evening, boss."
"Halloo, Daphne!" Harry's grin was face-splitting and he sauntered to the corner of the desk to set down his briefcase (at least until he remembered that he hadn't brought a briefcase). Daphne was eyeing him warily, yet also with a bit of amusement.
"How…. how was the party….?"
"Oh, if you had seen it, Daph! It was…" Harry hiccupped. "…. Quite lovely."
Daphne nodded slowly, even as she reminded him for what had to be the hundredth time. "I don't do parties. And certainly not weddings. Last time, I did it was my sister's, and I cried for five hours straight." She delivered this in dry deadpan, the no nonsense befitting an officer of the law.
"Ah, don't be like that, Daphhie!" Harry giggled at his own joke. "Geddit? You're as daffy as a duck!"
Daphne snorted, a bemused grin breaking onto her face as she shook her head. "You're drunk," she stated flatly. She started to turn away…. only to let out a shriek of surprise as Harry spun her into his arms and began to waltz them both around the office.
"Come on, love! Dance with me!"
She chuckled nervously. "OK…. That is definitely enough nettle for you….!" For a bloke off his rocker, though, he was still incredibly strong and Daphne found she had little choice but to let her feet be taken wherever until the man tired himself out.
Probably not the best idea. Her head suddenly smacked into the wall as Harry more or less steered them right into it. Daphne could smell the liquor on his breath….
…. and then, quite suddenly, she could taste it on his lips.
"Hmmmm?!" Daphne let out a squeak of shock as her boss suddenly kissed her deeply on the mouth. She squirmed slightly, struggling to get air and in doing so her lips parted and the kiss unintentionally deepened.
Daphne's popping eyes darted to where she had absently left her wand lying on the corner of Harry's desk. Deciding something, she began to hesitantly kiss him back even as she attempted to guide him closer to his desk so she could get a grip on the hawthorn stick.
She choked on a gasp as Harry's hands gripped her and even began to dangerously wander. If he chose to take liberties much lower, Daphne resolved she would have little defense but to bruise him in the sweet spot.
They were still short of the desk when Daphne suddenly felt the last of her hyperactive brain astonishingly begin to switch off.
Harry's hands were greedily on her bum now. But instead of kneeing him in the balls, Daphne instead hiked her knee up and around his torso, as Harry gripped and lifted her thigh to his hip in one fluid motion.
"Mmmmhmmmmmm….."
Harry and Daphne embraced and the pair of Aurors staggered back towards the couch now in earnest. She shivered as she felt the tight business skirt of her standard uniform being shoved up over her slim waist. Daphne responded in kind, divesting Harry of his dress shirt and suit coat.
By the time the couple fell back onto the couch cushions, Daphne Greengrass's hair was mussy, her lips kiss-swollen and her blouse had even been wrenched loose to reveal the swell of her supple, naked breast.
As Harry's mouth worshipped her neck, Daphne tilted her head back and let out a sigh.
She spread her legs for him.
Her fingers curling until the knuckles turned white from where she was fisting the couch cushions, Daphne rocked against her boss turned lover.
She and Harry made love.
He woke up without having a clue as to where he was.
Harry sensed that he was pressed against something fleshy, and at an awkward angle. Opening his eyes fully, he allowed his gaze to travel downward as he made out the shape of what was clearly the curved body of a woman pressed against him. He saw rather mortifyingly how his pants were down to his ankles; he hadn't even bothered to kick off his shoes before leaping bollocks first into whatever karking mess he had gotten into now. His head was pounding from a raging hangover brought on by way too much goblin wine.
Then Harry lifted his gaze to the face of his partner, only for all the color to leave it.
He was pressed against the svelte body of his immediate and trusted Deputy Daphne Greengrass. How he had gotten himself into this position, he couldn't remember. How he had gotten her in this position – flat on her back – he couldn't remember either, and frankly he was astonished he had managed it without getting laid out. That would be violently laid out, not sexually, for if there was one thing Harry knew about the woman who had somehow ended up in his arms, it was that she threw a wicked hex and an even wickeder punch.
….. She had always reminded him of his Ginevra, in that way.
There was a hum as Daphne stirred prettily against him, and Harry felt his cock – still rather embarrassingly hanging free to the morning air – give a kind of throbbing twitch. Her lashes fluttering as she opened her eyes, Daphne's gaze landed on him and Harry winced.
"I'm sorry." It was the best he could think to say, even as he braced himself to inevitably get decked.
To his surprise, Daphne laughed, her smile beaming, and she tugged him closer. "I'm not."
Slowly, Harry drew his trusted partner close and kissed her. Deeply. Daphne purred into his slanting mouth and returned the kiss, her fingers dreamily tangling themselves into his black, unkempt hair.
He could have easily entered her, mated with her, once more, but when they broke apart, Harry grinned sheepishly and rose off of her like a gentleman, stumbling for the private loo he had had installed years before, for all-nighter kippers just like…. well, maybe not just like this one, but when he had to work. Daphne watched him go, biting her lip as she began to redress herself.
A moment later, her feet carried her into following him into the washroom.
Harry was already in the small, private shower, letting the droplets rain down on him. He didn't even turn his head until he heard the rustle of clothes pooling at his feet. Staring at Daphne as she undressed herself temptingly, the statuesque blonde stepped into the shower with him.
Wordlessly, they embraced.
Back in the countryside, Hermione had awoken to the man she had gone to bed with the night before spooning her and kissing her neck, his erection pressing insistently into her bum. Draco had been pleasantly surprised when she had turned the tables on him, slamming him onto his back and swinging her creamy thighs over his hips as she moved to straddle him. Riding him, her tits bouncing and swaying in his face until she had was brought to orgasm with a happy cry, Hermione and Draco had then redressed, their backs to each other.
In the clear light of day, Hermione's fear of how their children would react if she and Draco were caught compelled her to take more cautionary measures, even as her heart thrummed in her chest with the desire to be with him. Stepping out of the little workshop cottage and into the graying dawn, Hermione had quickly grabbed Draco's hand.
"Come with me," she murmured low.
She Disapparated them both to the telephone booth entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Slipping into the loo, Hermione embraced Draco as they stood in one toilet and kissed him. Pulling the plunger, she thought of the one fireplace connecting to a room where she knew there would be no recording devices.
She and Draco couldn't very well have another go in her office – there were cameras on twenty-four-seven, for her security as Minister for Magic.
This office, on the other hand….
The quarters were deserted, as they should be on a Sunday morning, when Draco and Hermione emerged in a whoosh of green flame, still kissing languorously and heatedly. Spying the couch out of the corner of his eye, Draco made to steer her towards it. Hermione twisted away, coy. She smiled.
"I have to use the loo."
Truly, she did feel flushed, but all the same she anticipated that horny Draco wouldn't let her play so hard to get. She laughed when she felt his firm body tackle her from behind and they both half-fell into Harry's private washroom together. Turning about in his arms, Hermione threw her own around his neck and kissed him…
…. Only for her brown eyes to pop upon hearing the sharp intake of breath that was decidedly feminine – and decidedly not hers.
Draco and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other and glanced to the left, only to take in the sight of Daphne Greengrass hoisted halfway up the shower wall and with her legs folded around Harry.
The Deputy Head Auror let out a startled scream. Harry, his face buried in the valley of his colleague's breasts, took a moment to emerge and witness the display before him, upon which he too was roaring in shock and anger.
"OI! Malfoy! You're sleeping with my sister-in-law?!"
Draco appeared as though a blood vessel was going to pop inside his forehead. "You're sleeping with my sister-in-law?!" Disentangling himself from Hermione's arms, a furious Malfoy started to stalk for the shower where his late wife's sister and the Chosen One had literally been caught in the act. "I've got a good mind to belt you one, you…. you…."
Daphne wailed in mortification and reached a hand for the door, in an attempt to hold it shut against her brother-in-law. But her palm slipped and in a terrible misjudgment of timing, the glass door was nudged open right into Draco's forehead, clocking him. The Malfoy heir roared and swore, staggering backwards in a kind of loping tap-dance before going down with a crash.
"Draco…..!" Hermione knelt at his side, as her lover cursed and rubbed the top of his head.
"What…. the blooming hell…." Harry was setting a blushing Daphne down on her feet while he himself lunged for a towel, stepping out onto the bathmat. Too late he attempted to manhandle the cloth around his waist, so that he ended up flashing all his assets at both his sister-in-law as well as his schoolyard enemy; a scandalized Hermione drew both hands to her mouth in absolute embarrassment. "…. do you think you're doing with my best girl, you oily…."
Draco sneered. "Sounds to me like my boy's darling auntie is your new best girl, Potter. Or have you always made a habit of shagging your subordinates?" A beat, and he sniggered. "You and Weasley shagging – now there's something we were all deprived of seeing!"
Thinking that by 'Weasley,' he meant Hermione rather than Ron, Harry bellowed with outrage and started to lunge for the man again. Hermione moved between them, faltering at her hand pressing into her best friend's bare chest.
"Stop it…. both of you, just stop it!"
Daphne meekly stumbled from the shower, rapidly and more adeptly stealing a towel around her bare breasts, lest the flash her own in-law too. Glancing between the Minister for Magic and her brother-in-law, she spoke up quietly.
"Does…. Scorpius know about this?" Her glance traveled from her seething brother by marriage to the beautiful brunette witch. "Does Rose?"
"Too right," Harry growled out through gritted teeth. "You lot should have thought about the children before leaping into bed together!" He returned to rounding on Draco. "More to the point, this is my sister! How dare you!"
"How dare you!" Draco threw back. "And Daphne, really, your standards should be set so much higher than this! I honestly expected more from you!"
To her credit, Daphne didn't hang her head. Though she did cringe. "At the moment, what I am most concerned about are your choices, big brother – specifically, as and how they might affect my nephew and niece-in-law." The women locking eyes, Hermione nodded meekly in understanding and even respect at how Daphne would want to look out for what was best for not only Scorpius, but Rose as well. "I'm the only one here without any children in the picture, but I still have the presence of mind to consider how this might affect all of yours."
"Only in the clear light of day," Draco snorted. Daphne glowered balefully at him. He turned back to Harry, who was still fuming. "What about your brats, Potter?"
"Don't you dare bring my sons or my daughter into this….!"
"Bloody tough, git. We are!"
"Daphne and I aren't the ones risking tearing apart a family by being together!" Harry swiveled his gaze from Draco to Hermione. "Your daughter and your son are married to each other. You both have shared grandchildren, for Merlin's sake! How do you think Rose and Scorpius will take to seeing each of their only surviving parents shacking up with each other?"
The incestuous implications, even ones that were created only by marriage and not of blood, still made Hermione and Draco take pause, the lovers glancing to each other. Hermione was one of the most well versed magical lawyers of this century, but even she wasn't certain if what she and Draco were doing, what they had done, was entirely legal.
Harry glanced from his lover to his sister-in-law to his old school rival and back again. Daphne was biting her lip. "So how should we handle this?"