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The sun shone down on the Diagon Alley from a cloudless sky. Witches and wizards strolled up and down the main street, gawking at the storefronts or dragging their children away from them. The mere thought that a man like Voldemort might pollute such a perfect summer's day was ridiculous, and the people of the Wizarding World went about their shopping without a care in the world.

For once, Harry Potter joined them in their blissful ignorance, putting his worries aside for a little while as he strolled down the Alley with Daphne Greengrass on his arm. She seemed to take the giant turnaround she'd performed in the past twenty-four hours as a personal triumph, and if Harry wasn't mistaken, she was practically preening under the gazes of all those who passed them.

Harry didn't mind. He was too busy soaking up the sunshine, and he remembered all too well the satisfaction that one feels when one takes a step back from a cliff and starts moving toward some genuine security.

The fact that having such a beautiful woman on his arm drew a lot of envious looks from passers-by didn't hurt either. Daphne made the combo of the school skirt and Dudley's worn-out white shirt look like the height of fashion, though she cheated a little by shortening the skirt to scandalous proportions. Harry didn't mind that either.

"Where do you want to go first?" he asked her. "Madam Malkin's?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "That's for muggles visiting Diagon for the first time, didn't you know that?"

"It seems not." Harry got most of his clothes in the muggle world, though he didn't pay particular attention to those either.

"Time for you to learn something new, then." Daphne pulled him by the arm and guided him toward a side street Harry hadn't noticed on his previous excursions to the Alley. Storefronts stretched on both sides of this alley, but it was immediately obvious that these shops catered to a more elite clientele – the storefronts were more understated, as though they didn't need to shout to gain attention, and Harry also noticed they seemed to be more specialized. One window displayed nothing but purses, another only a pair of ball gowns, and so on.

Daphne looked at him and said, "You know, it wouldn't hurt if you got some clothes that befit your station."

Harry looked down at his plain grey t-shirt and jeans. "What's wrong with the clothes I have?"

Daphne tilted her head, exasperated. It was the same look Hermione gave him when he was being particularly daft. "Nothing's wrong with them. You look like every muggle nineteen-year-old I've ever seen."

"Your point?"

"I thought you wanted to be the most exceptional nineteen-year-old anyone has ever seen?" The look on Harry's face must have answered her question. "Well, then, you should also dress the part."

And with that, Daphne guided him further down the street, until they reached a shop with an emerald sign above the entrance, The Rake written in golden lettering. In the shopfront, a pair of animated mannequins showcased two of the most elegant suits Harry had ever laid eyes on.

Daphne led the way through the entrance, the bell above the door ringing as she went, while Harry followed. Inside, a lone man stood behind a counter, the panelled walls revealing four doors, two on each side of the room. A fire burned in the fireplace, a comfy leather sofa sitting before it, while mannequins filled the corners of the room.

"Ah, Miss Greengrass," the man behind the counter said, a measuring tape hanging around his neck. He had silver hair, but they made him appear elegant instead of old. Wearing a white shirt with a V-neck sweater, he exuded sophistication, and all of a sudden Harry felt self-conscious about his clothes. "How lovely to see you."

"Hello, Bernard. Lovely to see you too."

Then the man's eyes found Harry. "And… Mr. Potter." Bernard looked him over. "You are most welcome, sir."

Harry inclined his head. "Thank you."

Bernard turned his eyes back to Daphne and said, "And how may I help you, miss?"

"It's Harry who needs your help, as you can see. An entire wardrobe, and he'll need walking clothes as well." Daphne turned to Harry and whispered, "I hope you don't mind, but these deserve to be incinerated."

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering how much this endeavour might cost, but he didn't say anything. Bernard found that funny.

"I'm sorry," he said through his chuckles when Harry looked his way. "But that look on your face reminded me terribly of your father."

That piqued Harry's interest. "You knew my father?"

"Oh, yes." Bernard moved around his counter and approached them. "He was about your age when his mother Dorea dragged him and Sirius Black into this shop. As I recall, he looked about as enthusiastic about it as you do." Bernard's smile was full of mischief. "But I also recall they both left quite happy."

That settled the matter in Harry's mind. No doubt Bernard had known it would, and Harry felt the first inklings of respect for the man. "Then I'll need an entire closet worth of clothes, sir. I don't care what it costs."

Bernard bowed his head, eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "It shall be a pleasure." The man jumped into action, and before Harry knew it, clothes, threads, and pins were flying through the air. Bernard first tried a dozen different cuts and styles, discarding them almost before the clothes settled on Harry's shoulders. It all reminded Harry a great deal of his first visit to Ollivander's.

Then, after Bernard came to a decision, the various fabrics came out. Acromantula silk, cashmere wool, and charmed cotton, Bernard tried them all and then seemed to have picked a little bit of everything. Harry went through dozens of shirts and pants of every colour, then shoes and jackets, while Daphne sat on the leather couch, those delectable legs of hers crossed, smiling as she watched him.

The entire process didn't take as long as Harry had thought, however. It was only a couple of hours later that Bernard exhaled as though he'd performed one of the twelve labours of Hercules and said, "Voila, we are finished. You may wear those out of the store if you wish."

Harry examined himself in the mirror. Bernard had chosen beige pants, a sky-blue polo shirt, and navy blue loafers. Perfect for a hot summer's day. "Thank you, sir," Harry said, finding his posture and mannerisms had changed with the new clothes, as though putting on the costume of a distinguished wizard immediately made him play the part.

Bernard bowed. "You're most welcome."

They took care of the gold then – Harry hand to hand over a bag of it – and the matter was concluded. "You can expect the clothes to be delivered to your home by the end of the day, Mr. Potter."

Harry thanked him again, they shook hands, and then he and Daphne were off.

"That was nifty of you," Harry said as they emerged in the open air again.

Daphne grinned. "If I'm gonna have you spending money on me, I figured I should get you warmed up."

Harry snorted. "Consider me ready. Where to next?"

"Right here." Daphne walked toward a boutique store with all sorts of dresses, shoes, and purses on display. Once through the door, Harry saw a mother and her young daughter trying on different dresses, while a pair of women in their thirties seemed to be browsing. All around them, attendants flittered, offering drinks and advice.

The second they spotted Daphne, one of them approached. "Miss Greengrass, we didn't expect to see you here," she said, looking Daphne over with a sickly-sweet smile. "How may we help you?"

Daphne smiled proudly and said, "We shall require one of your private rooms." She took a step back and grabbed Harry by the arm. "I'm afraid Harry here has decided to be very generous."

"Mr. Potter!" the woman exclaimed, drawing the eyes of all the ladies in the shop. Instantly, her demeanour changed. "Of course, our largest room is available."

"Excellent," Daphne said and moved forward. "I need all your latest, from the blouses, all the way down to the lingerie. And some champagne would be nice as well." Daphne grinned at Harry and said, "Come."

The private room she'd mentioned had a large couch in the middle and seemed to be surrounded by mirrors on all sides. The attendants quickly fulfilled all of Daphne's wishes, bringing a pile of boxes and dresses with a few flicks of their wands. Even an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne appeared on the table next to the couch. Then, as quickly as they took care of their duties, the women disappeared, closing the door behind them.

That's when Daphne faced him. "Do you want to play a little game?"

Harry sat on the couch and grabbed a glass of champagne. "What kind?"

Daphne unzipped her skirt and let it pool around her ankles. Harry got a good look at her ass in the mirrors, covered in nothing but a G-string. "It's called… Keep Your Hands To Yourself." Daphne smiled like a cat. "I'm going to have a little fun with you. As long as you keep your hands to yourself, I'm going to keep having fun. But the second you touch me, it's game over."

That sounded quite interesting to Harry. "What about all those girls outside?"

"These rooms have privacy charms on them. A lot of prominent purebloods bring their mistresses shopping here, and those girls are often very eager to show their gratitude." Daphne bent over and put her hands on his thighs so they were face to face. "What do you say?"

Harry grinned. "I think it sounds good."

She stood up. "Great! The games starts now, so remember, no touching."

Harry put his hands behind his head to show he understood and watched Daphne grab a pair of high heels and some lingerie and disappear behind a screen that hid her body from all the mirrors. He watched her change her clothes, the shadows on the screen giving him a vague idea of what she was up to, before she reappeared wearing lacy black stockings, held up by a garter belt, and some black G-string panties. Daphne also wore a black balconette bra that supported her tits beautifully, and six-inch heels that only added to her long legs.

"What do you think?" she asked slowly.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off of her. "I think you're beautiful."

"Is that all?" Daphne walked toward him, swaying her hips, then leaned over him again, shaking her tits in his face.

"And sexy." Harry watched her tits swing like he'd been hypnotized.

Daphne's hands trailed up his torso to his neck, and she tilted his head up as she straddled his lap. "Right answer." She leaned down to kiss him and they started making out as she grinded on his cock. Daphne's mouth was warm and tasted of champagne, and three times Harry nearly reached out and palmed her ass, only to stop himself at the last second. It was sweet torture, but Harry let it happen, letting himself savour the moment when he would sink his cock into Daphne's tight little pussy again.

Daphne broke off the kiss then, and slid to her knees between his legs. She licked his erection through his pants and reached out as though she meant to unbutton his pants, only to pull back at the last second and grin naughtily. She got to her feet and walked back to change into a different set of clothes.

"Hey!" Harry called out in outrage.

Daphne shot him a look over her shoulder, giggled, and disappeared behind the screen.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry grabbed the flute of champagne and downed it in one go, then immediately poured himself another measure. As he went to work on emptying the flute a second time, Daphne returned.

She wore fishnet tights this time, but she kept the same heels and bra. The little minx knew it was all she needed – the tights accentuated her legs and hips, and Harry made sure to take advantage of all the angles offered by the mirrors as she approached him.

The view got even better when Daphne suddenly went down on all fours and crawled the rest of the way to him. She went right between his legs and then climbed onto his lap. She took Harry's champagne from his hands and poured it into his mouth, purposefully spilling some over his neck and face.

"Oops," she said. She took off his polo shirt and started licking the champagne off his body, even as Harry had to employ all his willpower to remain passive and enjoy the sensations.

Once she cleaned up every last drop, Daphne started moving as though she was dancing to music. She grinded against him, pushed her tits in his face, then climbed off his lap, and started dancing in earnest. She bent over and shook her ass, she squatted and spread her knees, and the entire time Harry marvelled at the lines of her body, the curve of her ass, desperate to touch but enjoying this little game too much to let it end.

After a couple of minutes Daphne returned between his legs, and this time it seemed she was there to stay. She undid the zipper on his pants and pulled them down to his ankles. Harry was already rock hard, and when Daphne leaned in closer and inhaled his musk, he thought he might explode. But then the little slut gave the tip of his cock a light kiss, only to smile naughtily again and return behind the screen before Harry could so much as moan in protest. There he was on the couch, naked as the day he was born, with his cock at the ready, and she'd left him hanging like that.

Daphne didn't let him wait long, though. She came back again, and this time she wore nothing but her high heels. Her tits bounced freely as she walked to him like a runway model might. She leaned over him again so they were face to face, and reached down to wrap her fingers around his cock. "Am I torturing you?"

"Uh-huh." That was all Harry could say as her hand brought him some much needed relief.

"Poor thing." She pouted. "But remember, no touching."

She knelt between his legs, and licked his cock from the balls to the tip, taking her sweet time on the way up. She smiled when she saw the look of expectation on Harry's face, but she refused to give him what he craved – instead, she kissed his shaft, even licked around the tip, and only when it seemed she might push him too far did she finally take him in her mouth.

"Oh, fuck, finally," Harry said, closing his eyes to savour her warm mouth and her tongue, working the underside of his cock so expertly. What was this woman doing to him?

When he opened his eyes again, Daphne was looking up at him, her lips stretched around his cock as she bobbed her head up and down his shaft. Drool spilled from her mouth, but Daphne quickly gathered it up with her hands as she stroked him, getting him nice and wet, and taking more and more of him in her mouth.

"Fuck, Daphne," Harry reached out to put his hands on her head, but stopped himself at the last moment, and he saw Daphne's eyes sparkle in amusement. But she didn't stop sucking him for one second. Little by little, she took more of him in her mouth, and then Harry saw her take a deep breath, and the last few inches disappeared into her mouth as she took him down her throat. Daphne pulled back again and spluttered a little, but the second she'd regained her breath, she did it all over again. As she deepthroated him, her hands cupped his balls, even caressed his thighs, and soon Harry lost count of how many times she'd swallowed him whole.

Then, just when Harry thought he couldn't take it anymore, Daphne took his cock out of her mouth, gave it a few more strokes, then climbed onto his lap again. She brought her knees up so she was squatting above his cock, then reached down to line up his shaft with her entrance, and slowly lowered herself on it.

It shocked Harry to see how wet and ready she was for him, but these thoughts were replaced by the sweet sensation of her walls clamping down on him.

"Fuck, Harry," Daphne said, her voice a whine when she took his entire length. Slowly, she raised her ass again, so nothing but the tip remained inside her, and then went back down. She tortured them both like that, refusing to speed up and taking her time to work over his entire cock.

Harry knew that the moment was fast approaching when he wouldn't give a shit about the game anymore, but he was enjoying watching her slide up and down his rod to get in the way just yet. He loved listening to her deep breathing, loved the thin sheen of perspiration that covered her breasts, or the way her nipples had hardened. But most of all, Harry loved how she looked at him, so sexy and yet so vulnerable, her eyes begging him to fuck her hard and pleading with him to be kind to her. Harry decided he could do both.

Forgetting all about the game, he put his hands on Daphne's ass and stood up from the couch. She gasped in his ear as Harry lowered her to the floor and came down on top of her. He spread her legs as far as they would go as he began thrusting into her with all his pent-up lust, bottoming out again and again. It was animalistic and wild as Harry was way past the point of caring about her pleasure, only looking to fulfil his most primal urge. Daphne had her mouth open wide, but no scream left her throat. She clung to him for dear life, scratching his back with her nails and pulling the hair on the back of his head.

Harry felt his orgasm build and did nothing to stop it. It was too delicious to fight, and so when it came, he thrust into Daphne once, twice, three times, and then he was empty. All his energy seemed to leave him and he slumped down on top of her, burying his face in the crook of Daphne's neck as he tried to catch his breath.

That's how they stayed, their naked bodies intertwined on the floor of the private room, with clothes all around them.

If you wish to read more of my work and support me as a writer, visit: linktr. ee / luckyyyy1