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Harry pulled Daphne behind him, never taking his eyes off Malfoy. "You've always had horrible timing, Malfoy," he said. "Your odds would've been better if you'd caught us on the way in. I was drunker then."

"I don't need to improve my odds, Potter!" Draco said, brandishing his wand.

Harry made a show of looking around. "You've brought three goons with you."

"Shut up!" Draco shouted, and all his friends tensed up. Theodore Nott looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, and even Crabbe and Goyle seemed queasy.

Harry tilted his head and looked at Draco. The blonde ponce seemed pale, his hand was shaking, and every muscle in his body seemed to be wound a little too tight. "Why are you here then, if not to talk?"

"We're here to make you pay, Potter. You've no business going out with one of our own."

"One of your own?" Harry looked over his shoulder. "I wasn't aware Daphne belonged to you."

"Neither was I!" Daphne hissed from behind him.

"She's a Slytherin!" Draco jabbed his wand at Harry, but it was a gesture, not an attack.

Harry peered at the ferret. By all rights, Draco should've attacked already. What's really going on here? "Okay, make me pay then."

"Draw your wand, I won't attack an unarmed wizard!"

"Uh, yes, you will, I've seen you do it hundreds of times." Harry grinned. "In fact, it seems to me that's the only type of wizard you do attack."

Still Draco didn't strike, but seemed to be shaking with rage. "Shut up!"

"Well, make me then," Harry said and made a show of looking around. The Alley was completely deserted, in the middle of the day no less. "There's no one here to stop you."

Draco opened and closed his mouth, seemingly at a loss for what to say, and his goons looked no better. They exchanged looks, wondering how to proceed, and found no answers in Draco or each other.

Harry smiled brightly at them. "I can just see the headlines tomorrow: Deranged Potter Attacks Malfoy Heir In Broad Daylight, Aurors Come To The Rescue." Harry looked around the Alley. "You know, Dawlish, your Disillusionment Charm is shit."

As if Harry's comment was a magical incantation on its own, six Aurors flickered into view as they dropped their charms, their wands pointed at Harry. Dawlish stood in the middle, the collar of his black trench coat pulled up, staring at Harry with that repugnant look on his face.

"Is there any reason why your Aurors have their wands trained on me? Because if they keep it up for another second, I shall be forced to consider this a Ministry attack upon the House of Potter." Harry smiled politely. "I imagine you're aware that the law allows me to retaliate in any way I see fit, yes?"

The Aurors lowered their wands without Dawlish having to tell them. "You be careful, Potter."

Harry held out an arm for Daphne and said, "Why? I feel perfectly safe with you valiant Aurors out here protecting me." Harry led Daphne past them, winking at Malfoy as he went. "Work on your scheme a little longer next time, will you? I'm sure you'll pull one off one of these days."

The two of them waltzed past the Aurors, all of whom were glaring at Harry, and down the deserted Alley, towards the Leaky Cauldron. Both of them were tense as they walked, waiting to see if the Aurors had any other tricks up their sleeves (they were sure Draco didn't), but once they made it a hundred yards, Harry exhaled and Daphne started giggling.

"That was amazing!" she said in an excited whisper, as though she feared drawing the Aurors' attention if she spoke in a normal tone of voice.

Harry grinned, trying to sound casual as he said, "D'you think so?"

"Yes!" She slapped his shoulder. "How did you know it was a trap?"

"Malfoy hasn't had the balls to corner me since the end of second year," Harry replied. Draco had walked away from that encounter half-transfigured into a unicorn, while Crabbe and Goyle dangled from the ceiling. "I thought he might've grown a pair, but he was shaking like he was in the middle of a blizzard. I figured someone must've put him up to it."

"Damn," Daphne said, shaking her head. "I never would've thought of it."

"Yeah, well, I'm used to it by now," Harry said. "Though this is a step forward. The Ministry must be getting more desperate to discredit me if they're resorting to such measures."

"That's not surprising, if you think about it," Daphne said as they reached the Leaky Cauldron and Harry held the door open for her.

"What'd you mean?" he asked as he followed her inside.

"They've been trying to destroy your reputation since the end of the Tournament. I think they probably thought you'd go into hiding to escape it all. Instead, you were seen in Diagon Alley almost every day, eating ice cream." Daphne offered that beautiful smile of hers. "It's hardly the behavior of a deranged wizard who's desperate for attention."

"Hmm," Harry said as they navigated their way through the room and toward the entrance. "I suppose I hadn't thought of it that way. I just wanted ice cream."

"Well, thank Merlin you've got a sweet tooth then," Daphne replied.

The two of them pushed through the door and stepped into muggle London. A pair of double-decker buses flashed past and the sounds of cars and people swept over them. It never ceased to surprise Harry how much more chaotic the muggle world was compared to the magical.

Harry took Daphne's hand, since she looked properly lost, and led her down the sidewalk. He figured they should walk a couple of blocks to be sure no Aurors were tailing them before they apparated back to Privet Drive.

"Pssst!"

"Harry." Daphne pulled on his hand to stop him and nodded toward a side alley. Harry followed the direction of her gaze and found Pansy Parkinson peeking around the corner. "This should be good," he said and walked over.

Pansy moved further into the alley, undoubtedly even more worried about potential tails than Harry, and only once they'd completely disappeared from the view of the main street did she turn to face them. "Did they attack you?" she asked, looking Harry up and down as though searching for evidence.

"No. I saw it was a trap." Harry regarded her coolly. "Thanks for tipping them off, though."

"I didn't!" Pansy said, as though she'd been expecting the accusation. "It was just a coincidence. That's why I came here, to tell you that, so you won't think…" Pansy seemed at a loss for words.

"What, Pansy? So I won't think what? That you don't like me?" Harry looked at her, deadpan. "Even if I assumed the worst, I don't think it would change our relationship much, would it?"

Daphne pressed herself to Harry's arm, and he could feel her preen as she said, "But that's it, isn't it, Pansy?" she asked. "You want to change your relationship with Harry."

"No," Pansy replied, but it was an instinctual response, triggered by her pride, which didn't allow Daphne to get one over on her. Pansy looked at the ground and said, "Yes."

"And how would you like it to change, exactly?" Harry asked.

"I'm not spreading my legs for you like this slut, so don't even go there!" Pansy said, her black eyes fierce when she looked up at him.

Daphne didn't seem the least bit offended by the words, most likely because she thought Pansy was lying, while Harry snorted and said, "Bold of you to assume I want you, Parkinson."

Pansy stared at him for a few beats, as if trying to see if he meant it, and then her façade dropped and her desperation became plain. "Listen, I don't want anything, I just want to know that if I need to get to safety, I have somewhere to go."

Harry watched her carefully, but when his silence stretched a little too long, Daphne said, "Well, I think Harry—"

Harry raised a hand and Daphne fell silent. His eyes bored into Pansy's and he felt her quail. "Do you think I'm some sort of Death Eater Plan B?" he asked her. "Harry Potter's Home for Death Eaters Scared of Death?"

"I'm no Death Eater!" Pansy said in a furious whisper.

"But you support what they do, you always have." Harry took a step forward and she retreated before him. "Your only problem is that full-out war is about to erupt, and while you like the cause, you don't fancy dying for it. So you've come to me to hedge your bets in case you ever decide that being a pureblood supremacist might lower your life expectancy."

Pansy clenched her teeth, but her breathing was erratic and she looked up at him in terror. "I—I—"

"And you thought, what?" Harry asked, taking another step forward, but Pansy had run out of room as her back hit a wall. "That you'd dangle sex in front of me and I'd promise you anything?"

"I—please, Potter, what do you want?" she asked. "You're right, okay, you're right. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it."

"Nothing, right now," Harry replied, taking a step back. Pansy took a deep breath as though he'd been choking her. "But there might come a day when I come asking questions, and you will answer every single one of them or you can kiss my protection goodbye." Harry held out a hand for Daphne, turned around, and walked back toward the mouth of the alley.

"And what if I don't know the answers?" Pansy called after them.

"I suggest you keep your ears peeled for any information, then," Harry said, and then they turned the corner and left her behind.

The two of them walked together in silence for a few minutes, with nothing but the passing vehicles and pedestrians to fill the quiet between them. Then Daphne said, "Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't—"

Harry looked at her sharply. "Don't ever presume to answer questions for me, Daphne. I don't know if you're planning to position yourself as some sort of insider with me, arranging safe passage for your Slytherins, but you won't."

"I—I wasn't planning that, I promise." Daphne stopped and faced him. "I just… thought you'd want to help her."

"Why? Because I'm Harry Potter, and I help everyone, no matter what they say or do?" Harry asked. "I've fought dragons and basilisks and dementors, and nearly died a dozen times to save Hogwarts and its students. These fuckers caught little more than a whiff of danger to their comfortable lives and they're all pissing themselves. And all that after strutting around for years, lecturing us about their superiority, eh?"

Daphne looked down, her shame clear, and Harry saw that she thought he'd included her in his rant. "Why'd you help me, then?" she asked.

"Because you needed help, actually needed it, not because it was part of some scheme," Harry said. "And because I've never seen you be mean to anyone at school, and because I know you've always hated Malfoy. Yo always glare at him in class when you think no one's watching."

Daphne cracked a smile. " I should've known you of all people might notice."

Harry looked at her fondly. "Yeah, you should have. Now wipe that frightened look off your face, you have nothing to worry about."

Daphne straightened out her polka-dot dress and smiled impishly. "You didn't see yourself back there. You were terrifying."

"Terrifying?" Harry asked as they resumed their walk.

"Yes, terrifying." Daphne nodded knowingly. "I didn't know if Pansy would cry or cream her panties. Probably the latter."

Harry huffed and shook his head. "You Slytherins are weird."

"What?" Daphne sang. "You're hot when you go into full-on Chosen One mode."

"Whatever." Harry rolled his eyes. "Let's just go home."


A couple of hours later, Harry was back in his study, the curtains pulled shut, looking over his scrolls by the light of four candles. Daphne had made some overt suggestions about another visit to the shower, but Harry had to ask for a rain check. He had too much work to do, though he couldn't help but wonder what kind of naughtiness she was cooking up outside his door at that very moment.

Shaking his head, he leaned over the desk to read on. One of the many subjects he'd spent a considerable amount of time studying was figuring out exactly how Voldemort had stayed alive all these years. Professor Dumbledore had never been keen to explain his theories, so it fell to him to figure it out on his own, though it couldn't be said that he was doing very well.

The problem wasn't a lack of information, it was an overabundance of it. Facts rarely came into play because every wizard and his mother seemed to have his own theory about how to escape the clutches of death, and they all seemed determined to write them down. Harry must've discarded a thousand options over the years of combing through various scrolls and books. But then he'd come across a curious book when he was sneaking through the Restricted Section a few months ago, one that spoke of Herpo the Foul and the lengths he went to to attain immortality.

Harry had latched onto the option instantly. Herpo the Foul was a parselmouth, the man who'd first bred a Basilisk. These were features that would have undoubtedly appealed to a man like Tom Riddle, though Harry doubted Voldemort would've appreciated the part of the story that claimed Herpo had shown remorse for his evil deeds.

The part that didn't add up was that the text warned that a wizard could create only one horcrux. The description the book gave matched perfectly with the diary of Tom Riddle that Harry had destroyed in second year, but then why was Voldemort still alive? He must've created more than one, Harry thought as he read on about the dangers of creating horcruxes, which included the risk of going insane. Voldemort definitely ticks that box.

How could Harry find out for sure, though? Dumbledore had the diary, so no hope there, and even less hope that the Headmaster would freely share information if Harry asked him. So what could he do?

A knock came on the door and they opened before Harry could utter a word. Daphne stepped through, wearing one of the lingerie sets she'd bought earlier. A lacy bra and matching panties, a garter belt holding up her stockings, and dizzyingly high heels. She'd also put her hair up in a bun and done her makeup, and her smile suggested she didn't lack confidence. "The clothes came," she said, running her hands down her body. "What'd you think?"

"Lovely," Harry said, and while something inside him stirred, he couldn't indulge quite yet. "But I have to—"

"Oh, don't let me bother you, I'm just gonna have a little fun," Daphne said. She fell into a squat with a coy smile, then went on all four as she crawled beneath his desk. Harry watched her tits sway as she moved, saw her hips shift with every step, wondering what her ass would look like if he were standing behind her.

Harry didn't know what to say, but all the fight drained out of him when he felt her hands on his thighs. They travelled up toward his crotch, and then she was pulling his pants down his leg, and his cock was out in the open. Harry held his breath then, unsure of what would come next until her warm mouth wrapped around his cock, and he felt himself exhale slowly. "Merlin," he said as Daphne started sucking him, trying to picture her there under his desk, blowing him.

Harry blinked a couple of times and shook his head. He really did have work to do, and if Daphne wanted to give him head as he studied, well… who was he to argue? Clearing his throat, Harry focused on where he left off and continued with his reading. Or, at least, he tried to. It soon became clear that Daphne had made it her mission to win his full attention. Every time Harry quietly doubled down on his decision to study, she did something to make him question it. When he tried to focus on reading about how to destroy a Horcrux, she started licking his balls, and when he tried to look through the list of wizards who were rumored to have created a horcrux over the centuries, she started deepthroating him. And the entire time, the slurping and the moaning coming from under his table was steadily eroding Harry's composure. Then Daphne took his cock down her throat again so he could feel her nose press against his pelvic bone, and pushed him over the edge.

Harry slid his chair back, pulled out of her throat, and pulled her to her feet. Daphne squealed in delight as Harry spun her around and bent her over the desk. "Is this what you wanted?" He pulled her panties down her legs, licked his fingers, and pushed them between her folds.

Daphne moaned, nodding. Her mascara had spilled down her cheeks again, but her eyes were full of mischief as she looked at him over the shoulder, practically begging him to take her.

Harry decided against it. Teasing her by playing with her clit, he slid his fingers inside her only to suddenly pull back. Harry alternated between her G-spot and her clit, always keeping her guessing, while she pawed at the desk and begged. To Harry, her whines were like the sweetest song, egging him on further, his cock as hard as a rock, ready to pierce her folds any time Harry wished it.

"Fuckkk," Daphne groaned when Harry hit her G-spot again and again, then pulled back and went to her clit. "Please, Harry, just put it in me."

"Yeah?" Harry stepped behind her. "Arch that back for me, then."

Daphne obeyed as though she'd been given an order, her heart-shaped bum begging to be smacked and fucked. Harry grabbed her ponytail with one hand and forced her to look up and guided his cock to her entrance with the other. She was dripping wet by then, so it didn't take more than the slightest push to enter her, but Harry still took it easy, drawing it out unnecessarily.

"Oh, oh, ohhh," Daphne cried out when he finally bottomed out in her pussy.

"Fuck you're wet," Harry said as he began moving. Her pussy squeezed his shaft perfectly, and he was surprised to find her blowjob had pushed him closer to the edge than he'd thought. With every thrust, he felt like he might cum, and Harry loved holding back a little to draw out his pleasure as long as he could.

Daphne thrashed beneath him, moaning and sighing, but then Harry increased his grip on her hair and suddenly she was too busy gasping for breath to let out any other sounds. Harry looked down at her ass, rippling with every thrust, and her stocking-clad legs, so sexy in combination with her high heels. Merlin, how in the world did he end up with such a woman bent over his desk, that's what Harry wondered as he buried himself inside her time after time.

His pleasure almost became too much, and Harry pulled out of her pussy rather than risk it. Pretending as though he did it only to change positions, Harry pulled Daphne upright, turned her around, and lifted her onto the desk. Her eyes seemed far away, but she snapped to reality when Harry spread her legs and raised them in the air. Daphne didn't lay down on the desk but instead wrapped her arms around his neck as he entered her again, her legs resting in the crooks of his elbows.

"Oh, yes, Harry," she moaned as he entered her again, spread wide open for him.

"Merlin, you feel amazing," Harry said, chasing his orgasm even as he wanted to delay it for as long as could.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me, let's come together," Daphne said, putting a hand on his cheek.

It was all the motivation Harry required. He started fucking her hard, his thrusts deep and quick, and Daphne's cries gained in volume with every thrust until she was almost screaming in his ear, clinging to him for dear life. Harry delayed it for as long as he could, but when he felt Daphne start to shake in his arms, his own climax came, and once again Harry didn't pull out.

When he was finished, Harry staggered back with Daphne in his arms, and sat down in his chair, while she nuzzled his neck. He thought above moving, carrying her under the shower, but figured that could wait a little bit. Instead, Harry drew circles on her back with his fingers, listening to her breathing as he got his own under control.

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