Here's a fun smut project I've been working on. pure smut, with a smidge of dark comedy and free-use sex. No beta reading here, we die like Clone Troopers.

Harry Potter sat in the Gryffindor common room, his eyes narrowed as he stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace. He had noticed something odd lately, something that gnawed at the back of his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch.

It was as if the entire world was stuck on repeat, everyone around him locked into their roles, unable to deviate from a script he couldn't see. Normally this would not have been a surprise; he had come to this realization years before that he was the only person in the world with a true form of consciousness and sentience. But this was different. At first, it was little things. People repeated the same phrases over and over, as if they were following a script. Ron always laughed at the same jokes in the same way, Hermione always had the same reaction to his homework questions, and even Professor McGonagall seemed to cycle through the same set of lessons every day, except for once a week when she would teach a new spell. It was as if all of his school progress was set on a timer, unlocking new abilities as the year went on in some oddly specific order.

But then, something else caught his attention: the absence of consequence. He had always remembered that the best way to make friends was to gift certain items that an individual liked, as well as completing tasks assigned to you by that individual, but it had seemed to change in the last few days. He had shown up at the Quidditch pitch to give Cho her twice-a-week bottle of instant dry erasable ink, one of her favorite items, but instead had accidentally given her a particularly shiny strawberry that was meant for Susan Bones. Normally, because Cho was allergic to strawberries, it would have sent him back a week in terms of the path to dating her, but on this occasion, she had reacted in the most default manner he had ever seen.

"Oh thank you Harry, I'll find a good use for this."

He had heard the line from the girl before; it was her reaction to basic items like eagle feathers, cauldron cleaning kits, chocolate frogs, and polished quartz, items that she mainly just had a neutral feeling about, with no strong opinions whatsoever.

That gave him the idea to test the oddity a little more.

It had started when he quite obviously knocked over a stack of books in the library. Madam Pince had merely glanced at him, muttered something about "Remember no talking in the library," and returned to her work. No matter what he did, no one seemed to truly get angry with him.

Testing this theory had become a quiet obsession. He'd "accidentally" ruined a batch of Hermione's meticulously brewed Draught of Lethargy, and she didn't scold him as he expected; instead, she simply shrugged and started over. He'd deliberately eaten the last of the chocolate frogs that Ron had been saving, and his friend merely said, "No worries, mate," with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

One night, unable to sleep, Harry decided to push his theory further. He crept down to the common room, knowing that Hermione often stayed up late reading. Sure enough, there she was, curled up in her favorite chair with a book in hand.

"Hermione," he called softly, trying to sound hesitant. She looked up with a familiar warm smile.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I... I think I'm in love with you," he said, watching her reaction carefully.

Hermione's smile didn't falter. She simply closed her book, placed it on the table, and turned her focus to him. "That's sweet, Harry," she replied, her voice calm and measured. "But we should focus on our studies, don't you think?"

It was a common line he had heard from his best friend, and it was exactly what he had hoped to hear. It was as if she hadn't really heard him, like his words had been nothing more than background noise.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he realized the implications. Deciding to test his luck, he pushed further. 'If this fails, it's going to suck regaining all the friendship points I'm going to lose...'

He sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to test the waters. To his relief, she did not react. Slowly, he reached his other arm across and rested his palm gently on her thigh, giving a gentle squeeze to which she did not respond. 'So far so good.'

"Hermione, what would you do if I felt under your skirt?" He spoke, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to calm the nervousness inside of him.

"Oh Harry, I'm trying to study, I can't afford to fall behind in my classes."

Bingo. Slowly, he caressed her thigh, enjoying the smooth feel of fabric from her skirt as it gave way to the smooth skin of her bare legs underneath, gently raking the tips of his fingers up her skirt until he felt the soft cotton of her panties on the tips of his fingers. Chancing a look up, he saw nothing change in her expression apart from a slight blush across her cheeks as she kept her focus on the book in her hands.

"This is bloody wicked."

"Language Harry. Swearing is just a sign of low intelligence, there are so many words you could choose, after all."

--

It had been a day and a half since his experimenting with Hermione, and he had yet to push the boundaries farther, instead choosing to plan a list of activities he would like to try, ranging from the silly to the perverse to the downright sinful. However, it was about to change, as he walked into the Great Hall at the exact same time as one of the most beautiful girls in the entire school, Daphne Greengrass.

She was definitely on the list, multiple times. And what better way to test the water some more than with the girl with the sexiest ass in all of Hogwarts?

Harry made his way over to her, sliding into the seat beside her. "Morning, Daphne," he greeted her, his voice light and casual.

"Morning, Potter," Daphne replied, her tone warm but oddly flat.

He watched her for a moment, studying her carefully. She was beautiful, but there was something about her that seemed too composed, too controlled. He knew her to be the type to always stick to a prim and proper persona, but this seemed different. "Please, just call me Harry. You're looking beautiful today," Harry said, his voice carrying a hint of flirtation as he let his hand rest casually on her arm.

"Thank you, Harry," Daphne responded without missing a beat. She didn't look at him, her focus remaining on the food before her.

Harry's heart raced, his curiosity piqued. Her response was polite, but it lacked any real engagement, any genuine reaction. He felt a strange compulsion to push further, to test the boundaries of this odd behavior. His hand drifted down to her knee under the table, brushing against her leg. But Daphne didn't flinch or pull away; she continued eating as though nothing had happened.

Leaning in closer, Harry whispered in her ear, "You know, Daphne, I've always found you incredibly attractive. Maybe later, we could sneak off somewhere a bit more… private?"

Daphne kept buttering her toast, her hands moving in precise, practiced motions. "That sounds nice, Harry," she replied, her tone still devoid of any real emotion or interest.

Harry's breath caught. The response was as though she were on autopilot: she was definitely affected by whatever glitch was messing up his friendship meter.

Harry leaned back in his seat, staring at her in disbelief. "Hey Daphne, will you play with yourself for me?"

"I'm having breakfast right now, Harry. It's too early for Quidditch."

"So I could do whatever I want to you, but you won't do stuff yourself. That might be some sort of unlockable for if I reach maximum friendship with you. Hey Daphne, what is our friendship level?"

She turned to face him, swinging her leg over the bench, straddling it as she faced him directly. "Right now we are just acquaintances, Harry. My birthday is October 10th, and my favorite items are sugar quills, roses, transfiguration notebooks, green scarves, and chocolate covered hazelnuts."

"Holy shit, I didn't know you would just tell me your favorite items, I thought I had to figure those out myself."

She paused, as if she lost all ability to comprehend the world around her, and did not respond to his words, instead she remained seated staring at him with a curious look.

"Well, if you won't get off for me, let me have some fun with you then." He pressed his hand higher up her thigh, testing her limits. This time, he noticed the faintest hitch in her breath, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks. But her expression remained calm, and she made no move to stop him. "Do you like this, Daphne?" he whispered, his voice low and coaxing.

"That feels nice, Harry," she said, her voice steady.

A thrill of something—part excitement, part dread—ran through him. He moved his hand higher still, slipping it under her shirt. He hesitated for just a moment before cupping her breast, feeling the smoothness of her bra against his palm. Daphne's breath hitched slightly, and her blush deepened, but she didn't pull away or react beyond these minimal physical responses.

Harry's pulse quickened as he leaned in closer, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck, kissing her gently. "Does this feel good?" he murmured against her skin, his hand squeezing her breast more firmly.

"It's a very good morning, Harry," Daphne replied, her voice soft but still unsettlingly calm, as if nothing about this moment affected her in any meaningful way.

He kissed her neck again, more insistently this time, his hand exploring beneath her shirt, slipping his fingers underneath the bottom wire of her bra, as he enjoyed the smooth tenderness of her skin.

Harry's fingers paused as he withdrew his hand, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. His eyes locked onto Daphne's as he reached for the front of her button-up shirt. With a determined grip, he grasped the fabric and tore it apart, the buttons flying off in various directions as the material was ripped down the center. The sound of fabric tearing filled the room, while the rest of the Great Hall continued with its usual breakfast chatter. Daphne's calm demeanor remained, her gaze meeting him with an expression that was both enigmatic and engaging. Inside, he felt that if he stopped at this point, he would probably burst into flames for the grievous sin of not exposing Daphne's body to the world.

With a final movement, he reached both his hands around her torso, and undid the clasps of Daphne's bra, her eyes met his with a blend of curiosity and anticipation. Once the bra fell limp around her arms, exposing nearly the entirety of her ample breasts, she took a slow, measured breath, remaining composed yet subtly inviting. "Is there something specific you're looking for, Harry?" she asked, her voice smooth and calm, the question lingering in the charged atmosphere between them.

"I was looking for a beautiful pair of nipples to play with, and I think I found some."

"It's always good to find what you're looking for."

He scooted closer to her, raised her legs up over the top of his, and pressed his torso against her exposed breast. He lifted up her arms to remove the remains of her bra and shirt, once more to no protest. Grabbing her into a hug, she was pulled onto his lap as he began to kiss her neck, slow and tenderly, but with a barely restrained passion. Harry could hear her heart begin to race as the warmth of her lower body grinded against the restrained girth of his erect cock constrained behind his pants.

She let out a small moan, and a heavy breathy sigh of pleasure, but made no protest at his actions, even seeming to lean into him the slightest bit, spurring him to continue with more vigor as he kissed her, before swiping the food away from the table in front of them and leaning her back onto the wood surface as her chest heaved in heavy pleasured breaths. As he anticipated, nobody reacted as her blonde hair spread across the table, nearly into the plate of Pansy's bacon, to which the girl simply looked up and gave her signature sneer towards him, before continuing with her food.

"Well, seems like no one's going to say no if I fuck you right here for everyone to see." Curiously, Daphne seemed to squirm into delight at the prospect, as the tiniest smile broke out on her face, adjusting herself to a more comfortable position as Harry reached down and tucked his fingers under the hem of her skirt, flipping it upwards. To his surprise there was nothing underneath, her nether region exposed to the world, completely uncovered. "Wow, starkers underneath? Are you hoping that someone would catch a glimpse?" He said, teasing the girl whose face was now in a full blush, not really expecting an answer. But to his surprise, she shyly looked away and playfully responded.

"I know it's not ladylike, but it is exhilarating."

This took him by surprise, he would have never guessed it about Daphne. Maybe this was something he would learn if he decided to go for a romance with her, increasing her friendship levels to unlock intimacy with the Slytherin girl. "Well I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask since you won't dislike anything I say, are you secretly a perv? Do you pretend to be a proper lady, while you hide your fantasies?"

She paused again, as if trying to think of a proper response before nodding her head shyly. "The thought of doing these things does excite me, but my family would never approve. It's liberating to have a…" another pause, as she seemed to think once again, no doubt running a check on whatever programming controlled her to determine the friendship variable for her response. "Acquaintance?" she continued, visibly confused but still receptive to him, "who I can let my guard down with. My father wants me to take over the family house and be a proper wife, but it's never what I wanted."

It was interesting, he thought, the insight into the simulation that he lived in, often felt but rarely seen, as seamless and fluid as it was. He filed it in his head for later as he reached forward and rested his hand over her pussy, as her eyes widened and blush deepened. "What is it that you want Daphne? Do you want to be fucked? Do you want to be treated like a toy for someone's amusement? Do you want to be thrown over the table and used until you can't stand?" He massaged over her clit with his thumb as his other hand reached and undid the buttons to his pants, lowering them and his boxers until his dick burst free. He enjoyed the look of delight in her eyes, as small as it was, as he grabbed his shaft and stepped forward to rub his length through her lower lips. "Are you secretly a kinky slut, afraid to show who you really are?"

She bucked her hips forward, massaging her cunt against Harry's cock as she stammered, "Y…yes…. My father wants me to take over the family house and be a proper wife, but it's never what I wanted."

Ignoring her repeated response, he reached forward and placed a hand on her left breast as he lined up his dick with her. "Good. Because I want to give you what you want." He rocked his hips and slowly entered the warmth and tightness of Daphne Greengrass, breathing in a sigh of surprise at just how wet she was. It was surreal for him, publicly fucking the sexiest girl in his class on the Slytherin table at breakfast, and nobody moved to stop him, like the only people in the moment were him and Daphne. She writhed in pleasure beneath him, as he began to thrust, taking his dick deep into her tight pussy. He could feel her gasp, wrapping her legs around his waist as she urged him deeper inside her as their moans echoing throughout the otherwise normal breakfast at the Great Hall. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing them closer to climax. Daphne gasped for air, her face flushed and eyes excited.

"Faster," she whispered hoarsely, her voice filled with desire. Her request fueled Harry's hunger; he increased his pace, slamming into her relentlessly. The wooden table groaned under their weight, As Harry's thrusts intensified, Daphne's body responded with fervor, her hips meeting his in a wild dance of passion. The Slytherin table creaked under their combined weight, but still, the rest of the Great Hall remained oblivious.

Daphne's nails dug into Harry's back as she cried out, her pleasure building towards its peak. "Yes! Yes!" she gasped, her voice hoarse from their fervent kisses.

Harry's breath came in ragged gasps as he drove himself deeper and deeper into her wet heat. The sensation was overwhelming, his climax imminent. He reached between them, his fingers seeking out her clit to give it a gentle squeeze.

She shuddered violently at the touch, her moans of pleasure growing louder as he continued to thrust into her. Occasionally, he would catch Pansy across from them giving the same annoyed glare, or Tracy to their left smile her outgoing wide grin in their direction, but he didn't care – nothing mattered except the pleasure they were giving each other.

Her nails dug deeper into Harry's back, her hips bucking wildly against him. She cried out in pleasure, her voice echoing off the stone walls as Harry's dick throbbed with need, his orgasm building with each thrust. He could feel Daphne's tight pussy clamping down on him, milking him for every last drop.

Daphne's body shuddered violently as she felt the first waves of orgasm wash over her. Her nails dug into Harry's skin as her hips intensely spasmed forward, arching her back upwards as she let out a deep pleasured moan that shook through her entire body. Harry followed close behind, his own climax cresting as he watched Daphne's face contort in ecstasy. With a final thrust, he spilled himself into her, filling her with his essence as their bodies continued to shudder and tremble together.

As they lay there, spent and panting, Harry couldn't help but marvel at the fact that no one had stopped them.

Daphne's hands finally released their grip on his back, her fingers tracing patterns over his skin as they caught their breaths together. "That was... incredible," she whispered, her voice still filled with the aftereffects of their encounter. "I've never felt anything like it before," she admitted, her voice low and husky. Harry nodded in agreement, his mind still reeling from the sheer intensity of it all.

As they caught their breath, Harry leaned forward to brush a strand of hair from her face. Her lips hovered close to his, and he could feel her warm breath on his skin.

"Again," he whispered, his voice low and nearly feral. "I want you again." Harry's eyes locked onto hers, his heart pounding in his chest at the thought of satisfying his needs with her body once more. He leaned in slightly, giving her a hungry look as he reached for her face as they were now nearly nose to nose, placing a hand lovingly on her cheek before kissing her.

And so they did, their passion growing with each touch, each kiss. He would freely admit the first round of sex was fucking, pure and simple, but now it was different. This time it was lovemaking. It was slower, gentler, and more deliberate as they savored every touch, every kiss, every thrust. The Great Hall around them faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of them locked in their own private world of passion and desire. They were lost in each other, and for now, that was all that mattered. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring every curve and contour. Daphne's fingers traced patterns over Harry's chest, her nails sending shivers down his spine as he rolled his hips deeper into her. This time their actions brought a few disinterested and slightly curious looks, but they didn't care – nothing mattered except the pleasure they were giving each other. He reached to her hand, grasping it in his own as he leaned in, capturing the sensitive pink of her nipples in his mouth, trailing gentle kisses up her neck and jaw, her previous near screams of pleasure transformed into gentle mewing and gasping that reverberated through his lips.

As their climax approached once more, Harry felt his mind begin to cloud over with desire. He could feel Daphne's pussy clenching around him again, her body trembling with anticipation. Her eyes locked onto his, her face contorted in ecstasy as she cried out in pleasure. And then, without warning, it hit them both – a wave of pleasure so intense that they cried out in unison. Their bodies shook with the force of their release When the tremors finally subsided, Harry and Daphne lay entwined on the Slytherin table, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, as Harry's dick kept the hot cum sealed inside her. They looked into each other's eyes, their faces flushed with passion and lust.

For a moment, they simply lay there, savoring the afterglow of their intense lovemaking. But as the reality of what they had just done began to sink in, Harry's mind began to think of the ramifications. Daphne had begun to act of her own accord, deviating from the script in a way he hadn't experienced before.

Perhaps this was programmed into her, an entirely separate side of her personality that he would normally have to unlock through completing the romance quest with her. Or maybe their sexual encounter had somehow broken reality even farther, accessing abilities and areas of the simulation he was not supposed to. Whatever the reason, Harry couldn't help but smile - Not for the first time he thought to himself about how absolutely weird his life was, but at least this time he could relax knowing that it was about to get a whole lot better.