Chapters 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16 are already on Pa tr eon

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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)

She began to kiss his hands and then his feet, still shedding tears of gratitude. As if he had saved her life or redeemed the home she grew up in.

Harry stood up, leaving her in a pleasurable mess on the floor. She giggled, asking him where he was going. But he saw no reason to inform her.

Behind him, the back corner of the restaurant was in disarray. Overturned tables. Chairs broken from the kicks of the overwhelmed barista.

The barista rose as if she wanted to follow him, and he snapped his fingers again. She stood there dazed, her mind slowly returning to her. So, he thought pleadingly, the rough 'n tumble method works quite well. Outside, as he walked back to the car, he called for Susan. "Hello, my Mistress!" she breathed deeply, clearly aroused. "How can I... what can I do... I love you so much, darling. So much. Oh, Mistress..." "Quiet, my doll. Calm down." "Mmhmm."

The sounds of the struggle she made to obey his commands and withhold pleasure sent a jolt through his spine.

"I have a very specific question for you. What do you have when it comes to sexy outfits?"

Her aroused sounds immediately turned giggly and excited.

"AND THAT'S ENOUGH. Don't you think so, Miss Granger?" Hermione's mind slowly returned to her. Standing before her was a man. Handsome, incredibly handsome man. She didn't recognize him at all, didn't remember being his best friend throughout all seven years at Hogwarts. He was a stranger to her. Incredibly handsome. The most handsome man she had ever seen. The most handsome man anyone had ever seen.

"Yes," she said, lost in thought, running her fingers across her lips. "Yes, quite right. I think so. But please, call me Hermione."

She had no idea what she was agreeing to. It could be anything.

"A grant for performing arts straight from the minister. Can you arrange that for me?"

Leaning forward, she hoped her breasts were visible to him. It was crucial for him to find her attractive. Otherwise, she might never fuck him.

God, he could even leave the office without fucking her. That was unacceptable. She stood up, moving around the desk and leisurely crossed her legs in front of him. She lifted one leg so it rested on his, and her heel gently pressed against his thigh. The heel was a modest three inches, certainly not out of the norm for a department head in the ministry.

In fact, her entire outfit was rather appropriate... for a young woman managing a department in the ministry.

It was amusing. In the back of her mind, she thought she had worn pants today. Yes. A gray jacket with dark blue trim. Her hair was tied up in a bun on the top of her head.

Now she was wearing a tight, tiny blue dress. Her heels were beautifully adorned with tiny leather straps that moved along her delicate, sexy feet. Her hands were adorned with lace gloves, each one tied with a ribbon.

But that was... that's what she had been wearing all day. Right?

Of course, yes. She was born to dress this way. There was no better way for such a beautiful woman like her.

She was a beautiful woman, she thought with satisfaction. Even at the age of thirty-six, as the head of the Ministry of Magic's Economy Department, everyone was always stunned by her beauty. Deep, wonderful chestnut hair. Large, still plump and fertile breasts. Deep, dark eyes. A face that melted hearts. She was beautiful, and she knew it. She loved being beautiful because it meant that men like this one—whatever his name was, and oh God, it was probably the most perfect, handsome name in history—considered her attractive enough to fuck.

"Miss Granger?"

She smiled at him. This handsome, perfect man. So magnificent. Fuck. She couldn't even describe what it was about him. In fact, she didn't even know his name. "Oh, yes. It's yours. Completely. Sir...?"

She smiled awkwardly. How the fuck could she not know his name? His perfect, flawless, amazing name? It had to be at least as perfect as the rest of him. At least. In response, he slid his hand along her calf. Hermione tilted her head back in oral pleasure, immediately climaxing under his touch. His phone rang. He glanced at it briefly before dismissing it.

"I don't think it's that important, do you?" Coming wildly from his touch alone, she couldn't offer any counterargument.

In the blink of an eye, she leaned over the desk, and his cock plunged wildly into her volcanically hot slit. She couldn't scream—she knew she couldn't—but she desperately wanted to. It was the best fucking she had ever had in her entire life. He filled her. He made her whole. She was complete. He was her reason for existence. His cock, so hard and massive, thrust into her tight, hot crevice again and again.

On the edge of the desk, his phone rang once more. She saw all the messages from the past few minutes. From someone named Susan:

"I love you so much, Master!"

"You're a fucking god, and I love you, Master."

"Fuck, I just... love you so, so much. Oh my God, MY God..."

Master. It was a beautiful name for him... "Focus," he said, thrusting slowly into her pussy. "Do as I commanded you."

Files of paper were in front of her. She had to add money to the grant. Fine. She entered the amount, not really remembering what it was all about. It was probably the perfect sum.

"More," he ordered.

She added another zero.

"M-more," he grunted. "More, more, more..." He grunted, burying her face in the papers.

"Christ, I'm going to come in your fucking stomach."

She wasn't protected. She didn't care. His naked, hot cock was so incredible. His load would be perfect, so perfect. It was all... everything… perfect.

His warmth filled her body. It was pristine. Marvelous. She was probably pregnant now with a new, perfect child. She climaxed, crying and moaning, biting her arm to keep from screaming. Pleasure coursed through her body as his hands tore through her silly, tiny outfit. Her hand hovered over the zero key, adding more and more until the computer threw an error.

Ass.

He slowly pulled out of her body and gave her a slap on the ass.

"Good job, Miss Granger."

She didn't care about her husband. It was hard to worry about him. This man was perfect. Her husband was nobody. His fingers moved across her lips, transferring cum from her pussy onto her tongue. She eagerly licked it off. Then she watched as she deleted most of the long string of zeros she had entered.

"Please," he said. "Sixty thousand. It's easy to hide, right?"

"Yes, darling." She nodded eagerly. "Whatever you say. Of course."

"No, really." He held her face. "Can you hide it? No questions asked? No trouble?"

She quickly counted, then nodded. "Yes. There... yes. Trust me. So many. They won't notice a thousand here or there. I know which ones are the oldest. Everything will be fine."

Then he left her. In his hands were her clothes, as well as a massive bag of cash. When did he get it? She didn't care. It was probably the perfect timing.

Her work was just beginning. She changed back into her second set of clothes—kept in a small pile in the corner, where she had forgotten about them. She remembered them now—remembered how important it was to put them on and wear a happy, smiling face for her employees.

Even though deep down she was dead inside without her Man's cock inside her, guiding her, telling her what to think and how to feel. But that feeling would fade away. She knew it would happen. Something in her mind was surely telling her that.

But her work didn't end with allocating the money. Oh no. She had distributed a lot of money today, and it required a lot of sacrifice and skill to ensure that no one found out.

The voice inside her told her that she would be content with her life. Perfectly happy. Everything would be tip-top and alright. She would even forget doing all of this; she could deny ever organizing it. The memory of his cock had already vanished from her thoughts.

But if he called, she would remember everything. And she would serve him as he deserved.

It went very well. Better than he could ever expect or hope for.

God. All his debts were completely wiped out. Just like that. Well, his official debts, anyway. The ones from ministerial loans and unpaid taxes. He still, of course, had a debt to the goblins to worry about, but now it would be easy to pay them off. And he had no desire or need to ever take money from them again.

With a heart filled with self-assurance, he called his wife and returned to his workshop. He planned a mocking, cunning message to make her reconsider whether leaving him was a good idea. To his surprise, she picked up.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Hello, Padma." His smile was audible. "Hi, Harry. Are you calling to apologize?" "For what?"

"For mocking our marriage? For being a mockery of a man? For pretending you were ever worth being by my side? There are many things to choose from. Give me a moment to think, and I'll choose for you." He wasn't going to get dragged into an argument. He wasn't going to.

Soon. Very soon, he would use the pendant on her. He would make her beg for forgiveness. He would make her grovel and crawl, wear nothing but potato sacks for a year, break her magic, discard it. Every demeaning and humiliating thing he could think of, and she would accept it all with a grateful smile and a sad tear for not being able to suck his cock.

But he swallowed the anger of betrayal. He wouldn't show his hand. She would be suspicious. She was incredibly intelligent and possessed an angelic cunning that always put herself first. "Let's be adults, alright?"

"Adults? Is that what you're calling yourself now?"

"Please, Padma. I really would... like to somehow calm down."

"I'm listening?" she sneered.

"You really surprised me yesterday. I'm sure you can see that. I didn't have much to say."

"I don't know if you deserve that. I said everything I wanted to say. I was the one who had something to say. You would just... do what you're doing now. Try to change my mind. Try to beg and persuade."

An SMS from Susan rang on his phone:

"I love you, fuck, so much!" Harry smiled.

"I don't want to beg and persuade. I want to hear you.

Hear what's on your mind. I want..." He took a breath. "I would like closure. What do you think went wrong? No matter what you think of me now, we were happy once. For a while. And even if I can't do that with you anymore, I really would like to know how not to screw up any other relationships I might have."

A slip. He shouldn't have revealed that. God, but the conversation with Padma was too easy. Her voice was so silky, so smooth, so warm and alive, even if he despised the mind behind it.

"Other relationships? Are you already sleeping with someone?"

Damn. She caught on, didn't she? Well, go on the offensive. Throw her off balance.

"You're mad that I'm sleeping with someone? Really?"

"That's different. You shouldn't..." she growled. "You know what? Never mind. I don't care. Sleep with anyone you want."

"Will you meet me? Let's say tomorrow. At home. Seven in the evening."

"Fine. Tomorrow. Don't expect dinner." They hung up.

HE MADE A QUICK CALL to Susan to wash up and meet him at the workshop, then he headed there himself.

Chapters 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16 are already on Pa tr eon

If you would like to read the next chapters faster, see exclusive content, or support my work, please visit

Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)