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Immediately upon entering, Daphne pulled Padma aside and started a serious conversation with her. The conversation lasted less than two minutes, during which Daphne probably warned Padma that her position in the bookstore was in jeopardy if she continued her behavior. Padma had heard it before and dismissed those concerns, engulfing them in puffs of potent weed smoke.
Padma's coffee stand was located at the other end of the counter, near the window to attract passersby who could see customers enjoying their drinks inside. Padma knew how to make damn good coffee.
After a while, Harry approached her, reminding himself not to drool over the sight of her young and laid-back body.
She started brewing several pots of coffee. Small signs hung around her stand, advertising 2-for-1 promotions on special flavored coffees and the like. Harry leaned over the counter, trying to avert his gaze from her lack of underwear in those skimpy shorts. "The boss is pissed at you," he said.
"Yeah."
"Wanna get high?"
That was her answer to everything. Harry chuckled. "No, thanks. I had enough trouble yesterday when I was completely sober."
"She said she caught you and Tracey drinking."
"She didn't catch us drinking. We just... had a few drinks after work, that's all."
"That's not really sober."
She was right. "I guess not."
"You were drinking in the store?"
"We had to stay late to clean up."
Looking around, Padma clearly wasn't impressed. "I have to admit, you didn't do a good job."
"I guess you had to see it yesterday." Padma shrugged. "If you say so."
God, Harry wanted to fuck her. Her ass practically burst out of her jeans, and her outfit was so revealing that he knew he could undress her in less than a minute.
But he knew it was a hopeless desire. He was too ordinary for her. Padma preferred alternative guys with fifteen piercings on their eyelids and seventy others scattered all over their bodies. She craved tattoos, with an equal number of skulls as gummy bears and childhood comic characters. He just wasn't that. He was a bookworm, spending nights at home engrossed in books, yearning for something meaningful to write. For her, even a Death Eater would be more interesting than him. At least they had a tattoo.
As part of their routine, the first cup of coffee always went to him. She claimed it was because the first cup often turned out poorly, and she wanted to assess the quality of the rest. Harry hoped it was her way of showing him a little affection.
The front bell rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. It was quite surprising to have customers at such an early hour. A young woman walked in, clearly just out of Hogwarts.
After a moment, he realized he recognized the girl. Cho Chang. She was a year older than him. She had an exotic beauty and was a stunner, the type of girl Harry knew he would never hear more than a casual "hi" from, even in the best of times. He could save her life from a fire-breathing dragon, and she would just flip back her immaculate black hair, murmur a small "Oh, thanks," and he would think she did him a favor by acknowledging his presence.
Women had a strange influence on him, as you may have noticed. Perhaps that's why now he started having a strange influence on them. Over all those years of unrequited, unused desire, his seed had become the strongest it could be.
Maybe he was bitten by radioactive sperm. Who knows.
She was wearing tight leather pants and a tiny red jacket thrown over a black shirt. Her heels were high and worn with effortless grace. Everything about her outfit suggested that she put a lot of effort into it, and every line emphasized her attractiveness.
He approached her with a friendly smile. The kind you use on people you recognize. She either didn't catch on or didn't care. She also seemed oblivious to the mess or, again, just didn't pay attention to such things.
"Welcome to Flourish and Blotts," he said. "How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for books on understanding the concept of runes from the late 19th century. Hoping for Whitman. Miller. Maybe some old textbooks?" She paused, her lovely face contorted in thought. "Anyone pre-19th century, really."
"Right. Who isn't?" he replied. "I'm listening."
"Nevermind, sorry." She smiled. "We might have something downstairs. Let me show you."
He led her downstairs to the basement, which thankfully remained untouched by the chaos of the previous day. The light was dimmer there, as there were no windows, but there was more space for books. That's where they kept all the used stock. Severus jumped up as they descended, quickly running past them to claim a spot on one of the chairs downstairs. Undoubtedly, his little feline brain was urging Harry to execute his cuddling plan.
Cho approached him, and the closeness was somewhat overwhelming. She smelled like money. He didn't know how else to put it. There's a certain type of people who seem to soften the air around them, as if they were computer-generated, then thrown into the world, all computational power sucking in strands of reality to make each of their edges more beautiful and pleasing to the eye. She was that type of girl. Watching her, all he could think about was doing to her what he did to Tracey. Was it possible? Could he make this royal beauty drop to her knees after receiving a stack of his hot load, repeating with adoration everything he told her?
The temptation was tangible. But how could Harry make it happen? He couldn't just impose himself on her and hope for the best. Setting aside the morality of such behavior (and he wasn't sure if such a thing even existed), he had no practical evidence that what happened with Tracey was anything other than a random occurrence. Experiments and theories were tested for repeatability, after all.
He directed Cho towards a few books that could help her and pretended to be interested in rearranging some nearby ones. But mostly, he wanted an excuse to keep looking at her a little longer. Her backside and the leather tights complemented each other perfectly.
He knew he talked a lot about butts. But he couldn't help it that Padma and Cho had magnificent backsides in their own way. Cho's was full, the kind you could grab onto and lead. Padma was petite but perfectly sculpted, making you want to give her a playful spank just to see your hand land on both cheeks at once.
"I recognize you, you know."
Her comment snapped him out of his reverie about butts. He was slightly taken aback.
"Really?"
"Sure. You used to work at the Leaky Cauldron, right?"
He had been in at least four different classes with this girl. They weren't classes that were very large. Fifteen people were understandable maximum. The professor paid you a lot of attention, and most people in the class paid attention to your ideas and work.
He chuckled softly, unsure of how to respond. There was a time when he would have let something like that slip into oblivion. But the events of the previous night and his crazy desire to fuck her were messing with his sound judgment. "No, actually. We met at Hogwarts. We attended many classes together."
"Really?" Now it was her turn to be surprised. Even if he dared say so, he was a little flustered. Though it was hard to tell. It's like trying to draw the shape of one particular flare on the sun—everything is overshadowed by the stunning beauty of the main body.
"Yes. We had Defense Against the Dark Arts together, I skipped a year so I was in your class, and the same goes for Transfiguration."
She ran her shiny, thick hair back, her tongue sliding over her lips as she thought. It was fatally sexy. He couldn't stop imagining her tongue sliding over his penis, just like Tracey did. Or even both of them together, both begging him to be the one to take his cum, to be in a trance first...
"And then," he coughed slightly, trying to regain focus, "we had Potions Club together—"
"Hannah's class! Oh, yes!" She took a step back, looking at him from top to bottom. Her eyes were stunningly dark. "You've slimmed down since then, haven't you? It's been about a year, right?"
"Yes. Both of them."
He discovered that cycling helped shed a lot of weight.
"Well, good memory. I'm not sure if we ever really talked," Cho said, noticing Harry's expression. "Oh my God, did we talk? Oh God."
She now held her face in her hands, her petite body trembling with laughter. "Damn, I'm so embarrassed. I must seem like the biggest ditz to you."
The typical response, of course, would be "no, not at all!"
"I've known bigger," Harry replied, "but they were all true members of the royal family."
She snorted with laughter. It seemed distinctly Cho. "Oh, so you're a dick. I get it. Maybe that's why I don't remember you."
"You've erased all memories of dicks from your life? Must be lonely."
She laughed again. "Not every dick. But you know, a girl's gotta have some standards." "Right! And you know, internships with runes." She picked up the book she had chosen. "It's all about dicks in one way or another. Some are put aside."
"So from now on, you'll only remember the sweet ones in bookstores, right?"
"Maybe. Who knows." She smiled and ran her fingers through her hair again. "Are you here all the time?"
"Yeah, almost all the time."
"Well..." She twirled her hair. She smiled shyly, even twirling the useless, shiny chain around her waist. Was flirting with girls really that easy? What the fuck was he doing being silent all this time? Where the fuck was he? "I'll have to come back here. I'm studying and all. The library is just useless for this kind of material, unfortunately. See you around?"
"No, if I see you first."
She snorted again. "Oh God, you were doing so well..."
He watched her climb the stairs, her backside a complete vision in that little, skimpy outfit. If only he could let her taste his cum once, to see what could happen...
She sneaked a glance at him and giggled lightly, exiting through the door with a little skip.
"HEY, CAN YOU HELP ME WITH SOMETHING IN THE BACK?"
It was late afternoon, and he was reading a new novel about seven men trying to escape from a mutated cruise ship. It was a short story, but a funny one. Tracey leaned over the counter, pushing the book out of his line of sight and positioning herself firmly in its place.
They didn't spend much time together throughout the day, but Daphne had finally left for her new series of meetings, and they finished cleaning up from the previous day. The shop was finally back to a usable state.
Meanwhile, Tracey was in incredible shape, but that was nothing new. Her outfit echoed Padma's, with a tight shirt that accentuated her larger bust and a plunging V-neckline that left much to be appreciated. Her high-heeled sandals clicked on the wooden floor all day, drawing Harry's gaze to her little denim skirt whenever she bent over. As she leaned over the counter, her fingers trailed along his arm, gently squeezing his biceps.
Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 are already available at Pat re on.
If you want to support me, read the next chapters of the story and more, I invite you to my
Patreo n .com(slash)BoobsHunter (Remove spaces)