Get-together
Pansy
Frustration was nothing new to Pansy, but this particular source of it was something she was still adjusting to. Her business, Serpentine, had continued to grow more popular, and yet her private commissions still tended to outpace her retail sales, thanks (surely) in no small part due to role that her most reliable customer played.
The customer being, of course, one Miss Fleur Delacour. Nothing had been out of the ordinary when it came to the part-Veela, but "ordinary" was not a phrase which applied very accurately to Fleur. Pansy was fairly certain that Fleur wasn't even trying to be seductive or anything along those lines, it was just that the blonde practically dripped sensuality by her very state of being.
You shared a bottle of wine with a half-naked Veela, Pansy thought, and you aren't shagging her. What happened to you, Pansy?
It wasn't even that Fleur was the reason that Pansy was frustrated. While she was certain that she'd never exactly get used to Fleur's casual toplessness, things had stayed mostly professional, focused on Fleur's desire to put together a new, winter wardrobe… at least until Fleur had started regaling Pansy with the tale of her latest hook-up.
"Oh, I saw a man this weekend," Fleur had casually explained, while obviously flaunting the hickey at the top of one of her breasts, "he was promising at first, oui, but for all his claimed 'dominance', he fell to pieces as soon as I began to ride him. He was actually begging on his knees before I left."
"That's not so bad," Pansy had shrugged off the images as best as she could, "to have some big, strong man reduced to begging like that."
"Bof!" Fleur's slip into French slang – roughly equivalent to "so what?" – was definitely irritating and not at all appealing, "it is so… selfish! I do not want to be in charge all the time, if a man is going to take the kind of pleasure he wants from me, I would rather he take the pleasure he wants from me, non?"
Although Pansy could, in some ways, sympathize with Fleur on this front, neither was this the source of her frustration. While Harry's continued hesitance to take charge during sex wasn't her preferred dynamic, it wasn't exactly a problem for her, and the very last thing that Harry fucking Potter could be accused of was "being selfish".
No, she reminisced fondly, he's very happy to satisfy whatever Daphne or I desire, even if it takes the oaf a couple pushes to get into the role.
While Pansy wouldn't deny that she would absolutely enjoy the chance to be the one leaving a hickey on Fleur's tits rather than some nameless (and disappointing) Wizard, it wasn't envy that was responsible for her mood either. Harry, Daphne and herself had yet to exercise the quasi-open aspect of their relationship, but if they were to do so, then Pansy wondered if Fleur might not be too interwoven in their circles to be a good candidate for the trio's first foray into such avenues.
Surely, the part-Veela was interested (she'd made it all but actually obvious), but Daphne wasn't as intrigued by Fleur as Pansy herself was. Not that the two blondes didn't get along, or anything like that, but they simply didn't seem to have the spark of chemistry with each other that Pansy seemed to share with Fleur.
Granted, she can be pretentious as fuck, Pansy recalled, but that just makes her more entertaining.
Neither was Pansy bothered by Daphne's own obvious interest; while Pansy and Susan Bones absolutely did not get along, at least "open hostilities" was more exciting than the polite, cool pleasantries that Daphne tended to exchange with Fleur.
The third member of their trio, of course, was absolutely, mind-bogglingly content to stay out of either of those possible-but-who-knows developments. Pansy was equally confident that Harry would happily ruin Fleur (if Pansy merely requested it of him) and that Bones would make an enthusiastic exception to her typical preferences for him, yet Harry tended to merely shrug these possibilities off and maintain his easy-going friendships with those women.
Morgana's tits, Pansy thought, most men would be leaping at the chance to take Luna Lovegood up on her actual, explicit, blatantly obvious offer to sleep with him, yet the lummox hasn't even firecalled her since she left town.
While Lovegood wasn't exactly Pansy's type in terms of personality, she'd happily admit (and had, to Harry, repeatedly) that the blonde Witch was absolutely gorgeous, and Pansy would find a way to have fun even if she wasn't exactly going to sit down for a long conversation with her. Fuck's sake, Pansy had thought, Lovegood probably thinks doggy-style is "kinky", it'd be fun to break her into something a bit more adventurous if nothing else.
But Pansy wasn't frustrated by the way that her relationship had remained closed between Daphne, Harry, and herself: sure, she sincerely desired to take another woman to bed with the three of them eventually, but she was in no rush.
Part of what had Pansy frustrated was the realization, long after Fleur had left, that she was feeling needy. Pansy's libido wasn't exactly difficult to get going, so the way that she had started to fantasize about her partners as soon as she was alone was a predictable result, but she'd already told each of the pair that she was going to be busy for the next few days and wouldn't have time to see them.
So when she found herself with her enchanted notebook in hand, a message already penned to Daphne inquiring what she was up to, she was seized by the instinct to erase the words, to slam the notebook shut and stick to the designs that she had said were going to occupy her. After all, going back on her word would look pathetic or something, right?
The realization that she was being an absolute idiot was, truly, what drove her frustration with herself. She knew that neither Daphne nor Harry would be bothered if she changed her mind, that she wasn't showing weakness or desperation by wanting to see her girlfriend and/or boyfriend, and yet her first instinct was to avoid them just to stay in charge, somehow.
Fuck it, she smirked, they know how mercurial I am.
"Hey," she sent the message to Daphne, "what are you up to? Free tonight?"
"I was going to surprise Harry when he gets home," the reply came after a brief delay, "I thought you were busy tonight?"
"Changed my mind," Pansy replied, "coming over."
This, too, was a surprisingly welcome development in their relationship: Harry had not only brought Daphne and Pansy into the wards at 12 Grimmauld Place, but given each of them their own key to his house. "It's just a place," Harry had nonchalantly explained, "you can come over whenever you feel like it, even if I'm out."
Apparently, Daphne was already taking advantage of this offer, and Pansy was quite eager to join her in doing so. Quickly closing her shop for the night and activating her security charms, she grabbed a handful of Floo powder and hurried to her destination.
On arrival, it did not take long to find Daphne looking uncharacteristically bashful, wearing an apron and standing in the hallway leading to Harry's kitchen.
"Hey, gorgeous," Pansy greeted her girlfriend as she kicked off her heels, "where's our boy?"
"He should be arriving fairly soon," Daphne fidgeted, and Pansy approached her, falling into the desire to comfort her girlfriend with surprising ease.
"What's the surprise you had planned?" Pansy assumed it had something to do with the apron Daphne wore, but she was hopeless in the kitchen, so couldn't be of much help there.
"Well, I may have bit off a bit more than I could chew," Daphne admitted, "I was going to make supper, but I think I focused too much on the first course…"
"Oh?"
When Daphne spun around, demonstrating what she meant, Pansy swore that her mouth began to water for reasons entirely unrelated to food. Daphne was, apparently, wearing the apron and nothing else.
"Fuck," Pansy closed the distance, pressing a kiss into the back of Daphne's neck, "now I'm hungry."
Harry
He was eager to get home, especially since Daphne had mentioned that she had a "surprise" waiting for him, then refused to provide any more hints or details. Harry would prefer spending time with his girlfriend over most activities, let alone spending the afternoon at Gringotts, poring over the details of his various statuses to try and determine how certain proposed legislation might affect him.
As he entered 12 Grimmauld Place, he heard soft, enthusiastic noises coming from his kitchen, and rushed to remove his shoes, loosening his tie as he hurried to discover what, exactly, Daphne had planned.
Harry was delighted to discover that his other girlfriend had shown up at some point, even though Pansy had said she was busy, but the sight greeting him stole any further words from his mind immediately.
Daphne was standing in front of the kitchen table, one of her feet perched on it, while Pansy knelt behind her, enthusiastically eating her arse. He threw his tie aside, unconcerned with where it landed when this was what he saw.
"Hey, babe," Daphne greeted him, her voice hitching, "surprise!"
"She's delicious," Pansy spoke as she removed her head from Daphne's arse, pausing to spank their girlfriend with both hands, "hope you've got an appetite, Harry."
Harry smirked, realizing why Daphne was wearing an apron, as he crossed the kitchen to stand in front of her. He took Daphne's face in his hands, kissing her gently at first, though the urgency with which she pushed her tongue into his mouth quickly inspired him to meet her intensity as they snogged vigorously.
Pansy, meanwhile, was apparently just as eager to make out with Daphne's arse, making shameless wet sounds as she enthusiastically shoved her face between the blonde's cheeks.
"I had planned to make supper," Daphne explained, between pleasurable gasps, "but Pansy was impatient."
As if challenged, Pansy's hand snaked between Harry's legs, immediately reaching for his cock over his trousers. The way that Pansy so clearly wanted the two of them was enough on its own to start making Harry hard, and the way that she was still in her professional clothes while rimming Daphne was enough to get him the rest of the way there.
He quickly divested himself of his trousers, and before he could even begin unbuttoning his shirt, Pansy had switched tacks, now shoving her face between his legs, messily and loudly slobbering on his cock.
"Fuck, Pans," Harry groaned, in between kisses with Daphne, "you are eager."
"I decided," she slurred, pulling back from his member, a trail of saliva still connecting her mouth to him, "that I couldn't go a few days without a good hard fuck. Now, get to it!"
She slapped his arse to encourage him, as he repositioned himself behind Daphne. The blonde's height was a definite asset for this position, her hips already in line with Harry's own, the leg she had raised to the table spreading her open so that he could slide into her easily.
Of course, Pansy's hand guiding him in definitely helped, Harry and Daphne letting satisfied moans out together as Pansy scrambled to reposition herself underneath Daphne.
"Fuck, you're not just hungry, you're starving," Daphne teased, as Pansy slid so that she was between both Harry and Daphne's legs, her head angled up into Daphne's sex from underneath. Instead of replying, Pansy began to messily lick at both of her partners, devoting equal time to licking at Daphne's clit, and running her tongue over Harry's balls.
Harry leaned over to kiss Daphne as he slowly rocked in and out of her, Pansy's enthusiastic oral attention bringing a pleasurable new twist to this position. He was momentarily distracted when Pansy reached behind him to slap his arse again, her next command muffled by Daphne's pussy: "Fuck her, Harry."
Well, if you insist…
He obliged Pansy, beginning to thrust more vigorously, but she was apparently not yet satisfied, as she slapped his arse once more. Throwing caution to the wind, he repositioned his hands to Daphne's glorious hips, beginning to fuck her hard, enjoying both the way her arse bounced against his hips and the way he could actually feel his balls slapping into Pansy's face.
If the brunette had any complaints, they were secondary to the low, guttural moan she let out. One of her hands left his arse, and he could only presume that she'd put it between her own legs, judging from how the motion of her tongue grew erratic.
"Yes!" Daphne moaned, reaching behind herself to hold on to Harry's neck, "like that!"
He kept pounding her, his hips slamming into her arse hard enough to make her cheeks ripple, as Pansy latched her mouth on to Daphne's pussy, loudly slurping at her even as Harry continued to thrust powerfully. Daphne didn't last long under their combined attention, moaning loudly, her weight sagging against Harry as her legs quivered. She came hard, the way that Harry's cock slipped from her wet sex surely indicative that she'd had one of her squirting orgasms.
His suspicion was confirmed by the sight beneath him when he stepped back: Pansy was an absolute mess, her face wet from Daphne's cum, her eyes wide and glazed over with lust, entirely out-of-place with the sleek, professional outfit she wore.
Seized by an impulse, Harry reached down to grab Pansy under her arms, hauling her bodily to her feet, before pushing her onto his kitchen table. He pushed her black pencil skirt up her smooth legs, pulling her hips to the edge of the table, before he slid her panties to the side and pushed his cock inside her.
"Fuck yes," Daphne encouraged him, kissing him from where she stood beside her partners. Her hands weren't idle either, peeling Pansy's white dress shirt up her body, yanking Pansy's bra aside so that her tits were exposed.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Pansy whined, and Harry did. The way her breasts jiggled as he thrust into her was just as appealing as watching Daphne's arse, and he was struck once more by how spectacularly lucky he was to be able to shag two absolutely fucking gorgeous women.
Beside him, Daphne fussed with her apron, throwing it aside in short order, her earlier plans of making supper similarly discarded in favour of this much more pleasurable pursuit. Harry watched her cross to the other side of the table on shaky legs, her height coming in handy once again as she stood with her long legs on either side of Pansy's head.
"Yessss," Pansy hissed, "fuck my face, Daph."
The blonde giggled, but immediately set about doing just that: the sight of Pansy's pink tongue flickering against her pussy as Daphne thrust her hips against their girlfriend's face was one that Harry immediately committed to memory.
Daphne grinned at him, over the prone form of their girlfriend, and Harry felt a twang of affection as he took in her expression. She was slightly flushed, perhaps slightly due to a blush, given the hint of bashfulness in her face, and all things together was absolutely beautiful.
He leaned across the table to kiss her, the tenderness of the gesture contrasting wildly with the way that each of the pair thrust their hips against their girlfriend underneath them, each of the two fucking her in a different way. Harry trailed his hand between Pansy's legs, brushing his thumb over her clit, and the quick stimulus was enough to set off her orgasm, her legs twitching and her core tensing as Harry continued to spread her wide open.
"Pans," Daphne whined, "gonna cum again," the blonde's hands, in turn, landed on Pansy's tits, the brunette's pierced nipples peeking out from between her fingers.
"I'm close," Harry grunted, "same time?"
"Fuck yeah," Daphne muttered, as her thrusts against Pansy's face grew shorter, more erratic. In turn, Harry began to focus on his own pleasure, sawing in and out of Pansy's hot cunt with long, purposeful thrusts.
When Daphne came, she leaned back, her chest thrust forward, her skin flushed from her elegant neck to the top of her breasts; a sight that pushed Harry over his own peak, pulling out of Pansy's slick sex at the last possible moment. He moaned out loud as he came in four powerful spurts, covering Pansy's torso in cum from her navel to her – spectacular – tits.
Giggling again, Daphne stepped back, kneeling in front of the table to lean over Pansy, licking the cum from her tits. For her part, Pansy had been apparently fucked wordless, continuing to lie spread-eagle on the table, a smug expression on her face.
Harry felt his cock twitch, where it lay against Pansy's well-fucked pussy, still half-hard. He'd noticed that one definite benefit of dating two women at once – barely worth mentioning when measuring it against all the other ways his life was more fun with the pair – was that his stamina had improved dramatically. He was quite capable of repeat performances, which often came in handy considering the considerable sex drives his girlfriends possessed.
Fuck, you two are incredible, he thought, not for the first time.
"Mmm," Pansy murmured, satisfied, "you like that, Harry?"
"Of course," he chuckled, as Daphne smirked up at him from where she'd been licking one of Pansy's nipples.
"C'mere," Pansy ordered, and Daphne apparently caught on faster than he did, giggling as she stepped aside.
Harry replicated Daphne's earlier position, standing straddled over Pansy's face, as she leaned up to suck on his cock without even using her hands.
"Fuck," he grunted, twitching from the way she drew his cockhead between her lips, still sensitive from his previous orgasm just minutes before.
"Mmf," Pansy's response was muffled by his cock, but the way she reached over her head, gripping his arse in her hands again couldn't be mistaken.
"You're a big fan of grabbing my arse today," Harry teased, as he began to rock his hips, thrusting his member slowly into her mouth.
"Mhmm."
Without warning, her hands gripped tightly, pulling him forwards so that the entirety of his length disappeared down her throat. The way that she was laid on her back must have made the angle easier, but Harry would never cease to be impressed when she deep-throated him.
"Fuck, she's brilliant," Daphne murmured, impressed, as her hand gently traced over Pansy's throat, which practically seemed to strain over Harry's cock.
When he pulled back, withdrawing from her mouth, Pansy spanked him again, making a whining noise of disappointment until he put his cock between her lips once again. Fuck, I'm lucky, he thought, feeling her tongue dragging over his shaft even as he began to carefully fuck her face.
They established a rhythm in short order, Harry hunched over the side of the table, his hands pawing at Pansy's tits, his hips rocking back and forth in short thrusts into her mouth. Taking advantage of the unusual position, Harry leaned forwards even further, planting his own mouth on Pansy's pussy.
"Mmmmm!" she cried underneath him, yanking his hips against her own face with even more intensity.
He was aware of Daphne leaning in beside him as he set about devouring Pansy's pussy, the gentle kiss she placed against the back of his neck sending shivers shooting down his spine and between his legs. Standing up slightly, he removed one of his hands from Pansy's breasts, instead hooking three of his fingers inside her, roughly thrusting his digits in and out in the way he knew she liked.
It wasn't long before Pansy stiffened once again, her shriek almost entirely covered by his cock in her throat, as her sex clamped and spasmed around Harry's fingers. Smirking, he stood upright, letting Pansy suck at his cock rather than continuing his thrusts.
Daphne interjected again, coming to stand behind him, her hands laid over his hips. She pulled him back, his cock springing free from Pansy's mouth, covered in drool, and Daphne's hand immediately took its place, jerking him off quickly, the slick sensation of Pansy's spit making him shudder.
"Cummmm," Pansy moaned. The need in her voice, accompanied by the way that Daphne gently bit the spot where his neck met his shoulder, made Harry explode all over her face, ropes of cum landing on Pansy's tongue, across her cheeks, and in her mouth.
"Fuck," Harry groaned, sagging back into Daphne, who easily supported his weight, murmuring gentle encouragements in his ear.
Pansy groaned wordlessly, but clearly very satisfied, as she laid still, panting for breath.
"That was going to be part of my surprise," Daphne teased, running her hands up his chest, "but I'm glad Pansy was here, I can't take a face-fucking anywhere near that well."
"We can always practice," Pansy replied, her words somewhat slurred, a grin on her face.
"Oh, we will," Daphne promised, "but anyways, I am still going to make supper tonight. Harry, have a seat."
"I don't mind helping," he protested, but Daphne was insistent. Harry really wasn't used to being taken care of, but he was finding that it was easier to accept than to try and argue with one (or both!) of his girlfriends when they decided to pamper him.
"I'm aware," Daphne kissed him once more, then took her turn to swat his arse. What is it with these two and my arse tonight? He wondered, mirthfully, "but you always make breakfast, so I want to do something for you tonight. Well, you two, I suppose. Pansy, you staying for supper?"
"Yeah," Pansy groaned, rolling off the table to rise to her feet, "fuck it, I'll go back to work tomorrow."
"Anything you're particularly feeling like?" Daphne inquired, as she retrieved the apron she'd discarded.
"Oh, I don't know," Pansy locked eyes with Harry, then made a show out of collecting an errant streak of his cum with her fingertip, before popping her finger into her mouth, "I just ate."
Daphne groaned, rolling her eyes, as Harry joined Pansy in practically cackling at her joke.
Daphne
A few weeks later
For the first time since her youth, Daphne found herself actually excited for a party, with no traces of doubt or hesitation spoiling her mood. She knew that she could thank her partners for this unfamiliar level of comfort, the easy routine that the trio had fallen into being one that felt… right.
Not to say that she was entirely free of her typical worries or uncertainties: while she thoroughly enjoyed Harry's company in any context and was glad to be able to help him, the informal "lessons" she'd been providing him on Pureblood etiquette and expectations were far from her favourite way to pass the time.
Unfortunately, such measures were necessary to prepare for the next upcoming party, one that she had significant doubts over: the Winter Solstice Gala. With her father's recent efforts to manipulate the Wizengamot and pass laws governing marriage, it was going to be more important than ever that Harry struck the right kind of impression, that his presence at the gala would help to consolidate support among families who weren't already allied with him.
Thankfully, tonight was much more informal: Draco and Ginny Malfoy were hosting a Hallowe'en party. As the couple apparently made a habit of, the event was a blend of Muggle and Wizarding traditions, both a costume party and a celebration more in line with traditional Samhain festivities.
Checking her own costume over in the mirror once more, Daphne nodded to reassure herself, then left her apartment.
One of the other routines that had begun to fall into place was that she was no longer entirely sure if her apartment really counted as "her apartment", often serving more as her studio rather than where she spent most of her time. Harry had yet to actually bring up the possibility of any of the trio moving in together, but it had transpired that she'd spent more nights at his house than at hers of late.
Pansy, too, seemed to slowly be moving out of her flat, possibly without her own awareness. She certainly kept enough of her clothes and shoes at Harry's, which (if asked) Pansy would undoubtedly chalk up to "convenience" rather than admit that she barely slept in her own bed. Somehow, the Ice Queen, the Chosen Boy, and the Queen Bitch of Slytherin had found themselves in a dynamic where they shared a bed most nights.
Which wasn't to say that the trio had become entirely codependent, as each of the three still enjoyed their own privacy at times, which Daphne was fairly certain was a result of each of their natures. Though not a topic that she ruminated on, she had wondered at times if any of the pairs making up the trio could even work as a couple absent the influence of the third member.
Daphne wondered if, without the presence of Pansy's dynamic energy, her and Harry might settle into comfortable routines too easily, risking growing bored of each other over time. Then again, if it was her that wasn't present, she could see Pansy and Harry falling into excess together, spinning apart dramatically after burning bright and fast. If her and Pansy were dating and Harry wasn't involved, well, they tended to scheme, which too easily fell into pettiness if left unchecked.
As she arrived at Malfoy manor, she couldn't help a smile reaching her face. As much as she'd insist that she was a rational and pragmatic woman, there was a streak of romance in the composition of Daphne Greengrass, and she was so very grateful that she managed to find people who made her as happy as Pansy and Harry did.
"Hey, Daphne!" Ginny greeted her on arrival, the redhead – dressed as a member of the Weird Sisters, if Daphne had it right - was an increasingly-familiar figure in her life, as hers, Harry's, and Pansy's circles of friends had begun to blur together, "come on in! Harry's here already!"
While their relationship was not quite public yet, the guests at the party tonight were mostly people who had already been let in on the secret, which was another reason for Daphne's excitement. Though it might not be time to make declarations or be too obvious about it, the chance to be around her partners at an actual event was thrilling.
It didn't take her long to spot her boyfriend, leaning against a wall, engaged in casual conversation with Hermione and Viktor. The theme of the party was "Fame and Fearsome", where costumes were encouraged to represent either a celebrity, or something frightening. While she and Pansy had chosen the first option (though she still didn't know what Pansy's "it's a secret" costume was), Harry had elected to go with the second.
Her boyfriend – brilliant, foolish, charming, and frustrating man that he was – had decided to dress up as the bloody Bloody Baron. She rolled her eyes even as she approached, giggling despite her own exasperation.
"Of course you'd dress up as the ghost of Slytherin House, you prat," she teased, watching Harry crack a wry grin as he ran his eyes up her.
"What? I thought it'd make you feel at home," he waggled his eyebrows – which had been charmed to be at least thrice the size they were normally – at her.
"Hello, Daphne," Hermione sighed, clearly just as exasperated by his antics. She and Viktor had also chosen the "fearsome" side of things, dressed as Frankenstein's creature (which was perhaps a bit too fitting with Krum's frame) and his Bride.
"I know this one!" Viktor proclaimed, gazing at Daphne's costume, "the American, yes? The actress!"
Daphne twirled in place, her dress billowing just as it was charmed to do, finishing the motion with a classic pose.
"Marilyn Monroe, yes," Hermione patted Viktor's arm, "although more than just an actress, it could be said that…"
"You look great," Harry murmured to Daphne, as Hermione continued explaining what "sex symbols" were to her boyfriend, "told you that you'd pull it off."
"Oh, hush," she blushed at the compliment nonetheless, "and you look positively frightful."
Harry rattled his "chains" at her, grinning shamelessly.
"Any word from Pansy yet?"
"She should be here soon," Harry replied, "let's grab a drink, first."
To an outside observer, they probably looked like a pair of friends, or perhaps it seemed as if Harry was trying to pick her up, but internally, Daphne was beaming. She'd seen many different sides of Harry in private, but when she compared him to the man that she knew publicly even a year ago, he seemed much happier, more outgoing.
Draco had set up a well-stocked bar, including a punch bowl that – presumably – packed more of a kick than any given bottle of liquor would. Harry served her a glass, and her first exploratory sip confirmed her suspicion: there was at least a hint of disinhibition draught in the punch, not to mention the powerful taste of magical rum.
"Evening, Daph," Ronald spoke as he approached the bar in turn, "good to see you, mate. Where's your third musketeer?"
"Oh, fuck, that would have been a good costume," Harry chuckled, knowing that he was teasing Daphne with how it absolutely wouldn't be a good costume.
"Actually," Daphne realized, "we don't know what she's dressed as. I suppose she could be in the crowd."
Ronald's eyes grew wide suddenly, and he sputtered into his glass of punch, coughing as he recovered.
"Nope!" he cried, seeming to nearly choke with laughter, "I'm pretty sure she just arrived!"
"Move aside!" Pansy's familiar voice cried, her tone more imperious than Daphne had heard in years, "make way for your hero! The chosen one wants to drink!"
Harry howled in laughter beside her, doubling over as he took in Pansy's costume, and it took all of Daphne's considerable restraint not to fall to the floor in her own mirth.
Though she'd noted a passing similarity in some of their features before, Daphne never would have imagined that Pansy would take it this far, but if anyone had the brashness and sheer audacity to pull it off, it was Pansy Parkinson.
Striding towards them, wearing an intentionally-disheveled Gryffindor uniform, her hair styled so it stuck up in every direction in an unruly mess, an enormous pair of round spectacles on her face, and a giant lightning bold emblazoned on her forehead; Pansy, dressed as Harry Potter.
Ronald actually broke into applause behind them, as Harry struggled to do anything but continue laughing, Pansy confidently walking towards Daphne.
"Hey, beautiful," she announced, her voice pitched to sound deeper than usual, "want a drink? Did you know I'm very famous?"
"Heh," Harry chuckled, "I'm not that confident."
"A hundred points to Gryffindor!" Pansy cried, seamlessly turning to storm towards the bar, "for bravery!"
She pulled a bottle from the table, as an astonished crowd of onlookers stared at her, then took a deep swig directly from it.
"Hah!" Pansy breathed fire into the air – firewhisky, then, how fitting – before continuing her boisterous act, "that was easier than playing Quidditch! Which, did I mention, I am very good at!"
Blaise, following in Pansy's wake, made his way over to the bar, his expression halfway between unrestrained awe and deep embarrassment.
"Where's Malfoy?" Pansy continued to yell, "I feel like dueling him! I am very strong with magic, by the way!"
"Pansy, no…" Blaise shook his head, a grin escaping from behind his hand even as he covered his mouth.
"Potter, yes!" Pansy strode into the crowd, her brief stop at the bar surely enough to cement her place as the best costume of the night.
"She's fucking incredible," Harry murmured behind Daphne, his hands ghosting over her hips while everyone was watching Pansy's performance.
"I can't believe you two," Daphne teased, "what have I gotten myself into?"
Pansy
"If I remember right, I did tell you to go fuck yourself once, and now you're telling me you aren't up to the challenge?" Pansy teased, quirking an eyebrow.
Harry practically giggled in response, as Daphne – bless her patience, really – sighed in frustration yet again from across the room.
"What about you, Daph?" Pansy called out, "ever thought about shagging two Harrys at once?"
"You're absolutely mad," Daphne replied, "and absolutely brilliant."
"Fine, fine," Pansy sighed, in false protest, "I'll go take off the makeup."
She smirked to herself as she went to Harry's ensuite bathroom, absolutely pleased with how well her costume had been received. The medal which Draco had transfigured on the spot ("Best Costume Ever") was one feather in her cap, but the way that Harry had absolutely gone into hysterics when she'd shown up dressed as him was her real source of satisfaction.
"I'll fix my hair, too," Daphne announced, as she followed behind Pansy, leaving Harry lounging on his bed, a grin still on his face.
"It was pretty good, wasn't it?" Pansy chuckled to herself, the question completely rhetorical.
"It's funny, you know," Daphne teased, embracing Pansy from behind, before separating to begin removing the curling charms from her hair, "on the way to the party, I was getting all sappy, thinking how lucky I am to have you two and all. It's nice that you reminded me that it's you two who are lucky to have me."
"Oh, don't be like that," Pansy made an exaggerated pout in the mirror, "I had to try something different, since I'm not pretty enough to pull off Monroe, unlike some."
"You could've been Bettie Page, you know," Daphne kissed her ear, raising goosebumps on Pansy's neck.
"I… fuck, that actually would have been brilliant," Pansy shrugged, "I think this was more fun, though."
"You were the star of the show already," Daphne moved her lips lower on Pansy's neck, making her shudder, "and what prize do you want?"
Hmm.
"You know the thing we talked about?" Pansy saw the fire in her own eyes in the mirror, as Daphne nodded, "go get the strap-on, it's in the second bedroom on the third floor."
"The 'sex dungeon', you mean?"
"It's a good name, but a bit cliché."
"We tried bondage once in that room," Daphne bit the side of her neck this time, "but I see your point. You going to get Harry started?"
"Oh, fuck yeah," Pansy confirmed.
The last of the makeup charms banished, Pansy's face had returned to her own, distinctly non-lightning-bolted features. After casting a familiar charm in preparation for the night's activities, she hurried to rejoin Harry in his bedroom. The giddiness she felt was something that might be able to be written off by the effect of magical liquor, but Pansy was – perhaps – willing to admit that she was actually just happy from spending the night with her partners.
This giddiness carried over to the way that she practically pounced on Harry, flumping her body on top of his, practically crawling up him to take his face in her hands before kissing him fiercely.
"Hey," he smiled up at her, and she swallowed any further words with her lips.
She reached under his t-shirt, running her fingertips over his abdominal muscles, before lifting it up, pulling it over his head so quickly that he had to thrash around to extricate himself. Just as eagerly, Harry pulled her own shirt off, their faces crashing together again as each of them pulled at the waistbands of the others' pants.
"Where'd Daph go?" Harry murmured, as he pulled her sweatpants over her hips, tossing them aside.
"She'll be back," Pansy nipped at his bottom lip, "don't worry."
Harry lifted his hips to help her remove his pants, and then she was on top of him again, except now both were naked. She felt him growing hard underneath her, his erection bumping against her own sex at times, hot and stiff against her skin in a way that electrified her.
She reached between them, grasping his cock, smirking against his lips as she heard him gasp in pleasure, before aligning him with her entrance and sinking down hard on his length, sheathing him entirely in one go.
"Fuck," Harry groaned, reaching around her to grab her arse. Good thinking, Harry.
"Mmm," she murmured a reply, rolling her hips, still getting used to having him inside her despite the considerable frequency with which they shagged.
"Merlin, you two look great," Daphne spoke from the door, her arms behind her back. She hurried to join her partners, kicking her pants off in a way that was far too elegant, Daphne's practiced grace on display even now.
Pansy took a moment to appreciate her girlfriend's figure; her long legs, the way her pink, nearly-invisible nipples stood out from her breasts, and certainly her magnificent arse. She thought back to Daphne's earlier light-hearted teasing, and realized that all three of them were really, truly lucky to have found the other two.
Neither did she neglect her boyfriend: rocking her hips against him, cooing as his cock filled her pussy very pleasurably, she ran her eyes over him in turn. While he didn't exactly have breasts, Pansy supposed that his hard chest, tattooed and scarred, was appealing in its own way. The cords of muscle that stood out in Harry's arms had been surprising when she'd first seen them, but now she had come to thoroughly appreciate his unexpected strength.
To say nothing of his cock, fuck, she bit her lip, as she began to gyrate more forcefully.
A dip in the bed behind her announced Daphne's presence, and the soft hand at her back, urging her to lean forwards, confirmed that Daphne was on board with what Pansy had asked her. She felt Harry's hands tighten on her arse cheeks, spreading her open, and moaned contentedly when Daphne's tongue traced along the inside of one of said cheeks.
"Fuck, that's hot," Harry said over her shoulder, presumably watching Daphne's torturous teasing around her arsehole.
"Just you wait," Daphne's voice was deep, sultry, before her tongue ran over Pansy's rim, producing a gasp from the brunette despite her best efforts.
Underneath her, Harry began to rock his own pelvis against her, the combined sensations of her two partners treating her to this delight already coiling in her belly pleasurably. Pansy felt little sparks going up her spine every time Harry would thrust up as Daphne teased her backdoor, not bothering to restrain the gasps and whines that escaped her lips.
"You ready, darling?"
"Fuck, yes," Pansy whined.
"Hmm?" Harry made a noise of curiosity, but didn't exactly protest, continuing to slowly fuck her as Daphne retreated to the foot of the bed.
"Daph asked me if I had requests," Pansy moaned as she felt the blonde's hand at the base of her spine, pushing her so that her hips tilted forwards, "and I want both of you to fuck me tonight."
"Oh," a gleam appeared in Harry's eye, "oh!"
She felt the tip of the magical strap-on prod against her, as Harry slowed his own thrusts, giving Daphne time to enter. An upgrade from the previous models, this particular toy was charmed in a way that helped pass sensations from the artificial phallus to its wearer, which Pansy had thoroughly enjoyed when she'd used it on Daphne.
Maybe later, when Daphne was feeling brave enough, she might take her arse with it.
"Ffffuck," Pansy groaned, as the tip of the toy slid inside her. She'd cast the charm to prepare earlier, but she'd never attempted taking two at once before, and she felt like every sensation was magnified a thousand times.
"Fucking hell," Harry whispered under her, pulling her tighter against him.
"She feels so good," Daphne groaned, and with another push, sunk the strap-on past Pansy's entrance, inside her arse.
"Holy fuck," Harry muttered, as the trio remained stationary, all three connected together.
"Fuck," Daphne whined, "does it always feel this good for you, Harry? She's so fucking tight."
"It's because I'm so fucking full," Pansy moaned, absolutely contended with this state, "I'm ready. Fuck me, both of you. Please."
With Harry beneath her and Daphne behind her, it took her partners a moment or two to establish a rhythm, but in short order they were each sliding their cocks (whether real or artificial) in and out of her holes, penetrating her in turn. At times one would stop their thrusts while fully hilted inside her, leaving her feeling amazingly full when the other would slide in and out, and at other times they'd alternate thrusts, ensuring that she was always being fucked by one of them at any time.
It didn't take long at all for her to reach her first orgasm, or her second. By the time a few short minutes had passed, Pansy was uttering a non-stop stream of moans and profanity, not even conscious of the words she was saying to encourage her partners.
"Not gonna last long," Harry grunted, "feels too good."
"Me neither," Daphne sighed, "Pans, you doing good?"
"Fucking amazing, don't fucking stop, fuck, fuck."
She heard both her boyfriend and girlfriend chuckle at that, a bit of synchronicity which she'd find cute as soon as she had the brainpower to spare for anything other than the cocks inside of her. Daphne began to pick up her tempo, her hips slapping against Pansy from one side, as Harry's hips met her from the front, the two pistoning back and forth with Pansy trapped in between.
"Fucking make me yours," Pansy cried.
Fuck, that's new, she realized, the dirty talk having taken a turn of sorts, before discarding any kind of uncertainty. I am yours, and you're mine, she knew.
Pansy wasn't entirely certain, but she was reasonably sure that the trio managed to reach their final climax at the same time, from how each of her partners stiffened, crushed against her.
"Wow," Harry finally muttered, "that was… intense."
"Yeah, wow," Daphne exhaled a breath, giggling, "the way the strap-on feels in her… wow."
"Fuck, I agree," Pansy flung her arms out, wrapping one around Daphne and Harry each, "that was fantastic."
"Only the best for our girl," Daphne teased, kissing one side of Pansy's head. Any murmured protests fell away when Harry kissed the other side of her head, and finally Pansy allowed herself to sink comfortably into sleep between the two of them.