Chapter 5 – Hogwarts and Hogsmeade
Harry's days were a whirlwind of responsibility, but he thrived in the chaos. Managing his properties was no small feat—his portfolio ranged from bustling establishments in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade to investments in far-flung locales. Each day presented a new challenge: finalising deals, overseeing renovations, ensuring his businesses ran like clockwork, and keeping his staff happy. Yet, no matter how packed his schedule, he always carved out time for Bellatrix. The rules of the noble wizarding families still seemed strange to him, but he was glad the he and Bellatrix could spend time alone together now that they were engaged. When he had read the etiquette and tradition books upon his arrival he had been surprised that betrothals tended to be really long and engagements really short. Now he understood perfectly. He couldn't wait to marry them and make them his, he dreamed about it every night. And his dates with Bellatrix were always fiery, which didn't help matters. Harry adored her sharp wit and unrelenting drive, and their outings often reflected her adventurous spirit. From exclusive duelling exhibitions to secluded forest walks where they could unleash their desire for each other without prying eyes, Harry ensured each date felt uniquely hers, but he was careful to never take it too far. He wanted the wedding night to be special, if he could last that long. Bellatrix, in turn, seemed to blossom under his attention, her fierce independence softening into a tender affection that she reserved only for him. He fell more and more in love with her everyday.
But Narcissa was never far from Harry's thoughts. While she was away at Hogwarts, their correspondence became a bright spot in his otherwise hectic days. His letters to her were equal parts romantic and teasing, filled with playful banter and promises of the future.
My dearest Narcissa,
The manor feels colder without your radiant smile to warm it. I trust you're dazzling your professors and leaving your classmates in awe, though I suspect you've also stolen a few hearts. Don't let them pine too hard—I'd hate to ruin their dreams when I arrive for our first Hogsmeade weekend. I love you, and miss you terribly.
Yours impatiently,
Harry
Her replies were just as spirited:
Harry,
You're too charming for your own good. I'll have to stop reading my letters in the dining hall, if you keep this up. My classmates already despise how often I sigh during class, and I'm certain Professor Slughorn has noticed my wandering thoughts. You must be patient until Hogsmeade my love—but I warn you, the first kiss will be mine this time.
Yours (always),
Narcissa
Their letters grew more daring over time, with Narcissa's shy affection giving way to bold declarations. Harry cherished every one.
One evening near the end of October, Harry sat in his study, penning a letter to Dumbledore. His mind raced as he considered the importance of the meeting—he needed to secure marital quarters for Narcissa at Hogwarts, but more importantly, he wanted to ensure her safety against any potential threats from Voldemort or his followers. Harry knew better than to underestimate Voldemort's cunning. It would be easier to protect Narcissa if he had Dumbledore's cooperation, but how could he get it without giving himself away? How could he explain how he knew so much about how bad the threat could get? Most people hadn't even heard the name Voldemort, the fear wasn't there yet and Dumbledore would know that.
Harry ended up not having much time to worry over it as two days later Harry received a reply inviting him to Hogwarts. For the first time in this new life, Harry stood before the castle he had once called home. The sight of it filled him with a mixture of nostalgia and pain. The turrets rose proudly into the sky, and the warm lights from the windows cast a golden glow. Though so much was familiar, there was a subtle difference—this Hogwarts hadn't known the same heartbreak his had endured.
As he approached the castle, Harry froze in place, his heart skipping a beat. A young woman was descending the staircase at a brisk pace, her auburn hair gleaming in the torchlight. It took him only a moment to realise who it was—his mother.
Lily Evans stopped suddenly as she passed him, her green eyes widening as if sensing something unexplainable.
"Do I know you?" she asked, her voice curious and tinged with something Harry couldn't place.
Harry forced his emotions under control, his Occlumency shielding him from the torrent of feelings threatening to overwhelm him. "No, I don't believe so," he said calmly.
Recognition sparked in her expression. "You're Lord Woodcroft, aren't you? I saw your picture in theProphet. You're marrying the Black sisters, aren't you?"
Harry winced internally at her disapproval but kept his expression neutral. "Yes, I am."
Lily hesitated, then frowned. "I don't see how you could marry someone as cold as Narcissa —and her sister, too. I've never heard of anyone marrying two women without holding dual titles. I've read all the books on wizarding law, and…"
Her voice trailed off as Harry chuckled softly. The earnest curiosity and determination in her reminded him painfully of Hermione.
"She's not as cold as she seems," Harry explained. "It's mostly an act to protect herself. Being in Slytherin often requires building walls to survive."
Lily tilted her head, considering his words. "No, I suppose it's not easy being in Slytherin."
The two spoke for several more minutes, Lily's initial distrust softening into intrigue. Harry cherished every moment, knowing he couldn't reveal who he truly was. When he finally excused himself, her gaze lingered on him, as though she sensed there was more to him than met the eye.
Harry climbed the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office, his nerves on edge. He had crafted his explanation carefully, knowing the headmaster would quickly see through any deception.
Dumbledore greeted him warmly but with the sharp, assessing gaze Harry remembered well. As they discussed Harry's request for marital quarters, the conversation inevitably turned toward Voldemort and Harry's background.
"Lord Woodcroft," Dumbledore began, his tone kind but edged with curiosity, "you are not like most young men I have met. Your knowledge—your demeanour—far surpasses that of a typical nineteen-year-old. There is something more here, something you are not yet sharing with me."
Harry took a deep breath. He had known this moment would come, and now, as the weight of his mission pressed down on him, he had to make a decision. Trust Dumbledore. Or risk facing him as an adversary.
"You're right," Harry said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him. "I'm not from this time."
Dumbledore's eyes widened, but his expression remained neutral. He said nothing, merely gesturing for Harry to continue, his silence an invitation for Harry to explain himself further.
Harry hesitated, then, sensing the opportunity to lay his truth bare, he spoke again. "I came back to change the course of fate. In my time, there was a war. A terrible, devastating war. Voldemort rose to power again. The Wizarding World... it was torn apart. Countless lives were lost, and the world I knew… it's almost unrecognisable now. I've come to stop that from happening."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, his gaze not unkind but searching. Harry could almost feel the headmaster's mind working, processing the enormity of the claim. After what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore spoke, his voice carefully measured.
"A terrible war, you say? And you... you are from the future?" His tone held a mix of disbelief and curiosity, but also a faint sense of recognition—as though he were considering a possibility that had always been just out of reach.
Harry nodded, locking eyes with Dumbledore. "I was a part of that war. I fought in it. I saw things... terrible things." His voice faltered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly regained control. "I came back—fate herself sent me back. He paused, unsure of how to express the magnitude of what he had done. "I came back to prevent it. To stop Voldemort before he can rise."
Dumbledore's gaze softened, and he leaned forward slightly, folding his hands in front of him. "Tell me about this Voldemort, then," he said quietly. "What does he become? How does he rise to power in your time?"
Harry swallowed hard, the memories rushing back. He had been through so much—loss, grief, betrayal—and yet, Dumbledore needed to understand the full scope of the danger. "In my time, he's stronger than ever. He has allies, a vast network of followers. His reach extends beyond just the Death Eaters. He controls the ministry and the school. He bends people to his will with fear, with power."
Harry's voice became quieter as he continued, "He's clever, manipulative. His influence—it's almost impossible to fight against, even if you know his plans.
Dumbledore's eyes were filled with something that was almost sadness, but Harry couldn't quite place it. "And you believe you can stop him now? With this knowledge you possess?"
"I have to try," Harry said firmly. "I don't know if I can prevent everything, but I can weaken him. I can stop some of the key moments that allowed him to rise to power."
Dumbledore studied Harry for a long moment, the room heavy with the weight of the conversation. "And how do you intend to accomplish this? What strategies do you have in mind?" His voice was calm, but Harry could hear the subtle edge of calculation in his words.
Harry let out a breath, his mind racing. "I'm going after his resources. His wealth, his influence. If I can cut off his supporters—"
Dumbledore raised a hand, interrupting gently. "His supporters? You speak of them as though they are easily swayed."
"Some of them are," Harry said, feeling a sense of urgency building. "Voldemort surrounds himself with people who want power, but not all of them are truly loyal. Many of them would abandon him if they saw another way. I can exploit that. If I can sever his alliances, break his hold over his followers—"
"You intend to weaken his base?" Dumbledore's voice was thoughtful. "That is a good strategy, indeed. But you mentioned his wealth... how do you plan to approach that?"
"My family has old alliances," Harry said quietly, not sure how much to reveal. "The Woodcrofts are tied to the giants. If it comes to that, I may need to call in that favour."
The headmaster's eyebrows lifted slightly. "The giants, you say? That is a powerful card to play. However, I would advise you to proceed with caution in that regard. The giants are not easily controlled. Hagrid, however, might be of help in this matter. His rapport with them is... unique."
Harry nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "I'll speak to him. If it comes to that, we'll need all the strength we can get."
Dumbledore regarded Harry for a moment before shifting the conversation. "And the matter of Narcissa," he said, his voice now more contemplative. "You mentioned her safety."
"I need to protect her," Harry said urgently. "She's in danger, and I can't let anything happen to her. I need to ensure that she's safe, but without alerting too many people. I don't want to cause any disruptions at school."
Dumbledore's expression softened, the familiar twinkle in his eye reappearing. "I understand, Lord Woodcroft. You have my full support in this matter. I will make the necessary arrangements once the Yule break has concluded. Until then, I will allow you to use my personal Floo network for any emergencies. You may come to me, or contact me, should the need arise."
Harry felt a sense of relief wash over him. For the first time since his arrival in this time, he felt that he might not be completely alone in this fight. "Thank you, Professor. I... I appreciate it."
The old wizard's smile was both kind and knowing. "It is the least I can do. You are here for a greater purpose, Lord Woodcroft. And though your path may be difficult, know that you have allies." His voice dropped a touch, becoming more serious. "And Harry… be careful. The temptation to change the past is great, but we must never forget that the future is fragile. Every action has a consequence, no matter how well-intentioned."
Harry nodded, understanding the warning. He had been warned before, and he would not forget it.
As the meeting came to a close, Harry felt a surprising sense of camaraderie with the headmaster. Just as he was about to leave, he turned back with a cheeky grin.
"By the way, would you mind if I took my fiancée to lunch?"
Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I think Miss Black would be delighted. Just be sure to return her by curfew."
Harry left the office feeling lighter, the beginnings of a true friendship forming with the man he once considered a mentor.
The corridors of Hogwarts buzzed as Harry, dressed impeccably in a tailored dark suit with emerald accents, strode confidently through the castle. His presence commanded attention, and whispers followed him wherever he went. The sight of Lord Woodcroft, Narcissa Black's fiancé, walking the halls of Hogwarts was nothing short of extraordinary.
Reaching the dungeons, he leaned casually against the cold stone wall near the Potions classroom door. The low hum of Professor Slughorn's voice spilled into the hallway, interspersed with the occasional clink of cauldrons and the bubbling of potions.
The bell rang moments later, and students began to file out. Most glanced at Harry in awe or curiosity, but when Narcissa emerged, her gaze instantly locked onto his. A blush spread across her pale cheeks as a small, delighted smile graced her lips.
"What are you doing here?" she asked softly, a note of surprise in her voice.
"I came to talk to Dumbledore about your need for marital quarters next term," he replied, enjoying the flush the creeped up her neck at the reminder that they would be married in less than two months time.
"Then I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to take my fiancée to lunch," Harry continued, his tone warm and teasing. "I've been told I can keep you till curfew."
Her friends, standing nearby, exchanged envious looks. One of them nudged Narcissa with a grin. "You're going to make us all hate you, you know that, don't you?"
Narcissa ignored them, her attention solely on Harry. "Of course," she said, her voice lilting. "Just let me put my school things in my dormitory."
A short time later, they exited the castle and walked the short distance to a small but exclusive bistro on the edge of Hogsmeade that Harry owned, hand in hand. The restaurant,Le Jardin Enchanté, was a hidden gem known only to the elite. The moment they stepped inside, the staff sprang into action. The maître d' bowed deeply and escorted them to a private table set near a window overlooking the countryside. Magical fairy lights twinkled above, and a gentle melody played in the background.
"Were they expecting you?" Narcissa asked as Harry pulled out her chair, earning him an approving smile.
"It pays to always be expecting me." He said with a wink.
The menu was presented, but Narcissa barely had time to glance at it before Harry leaned in. "Trust me?"
"Always."
He ordered for them both, selecting an array of delicate dishes—lobster bisque, roasted pheasant with a raspberry glaze, and a dessert of enchanted éclairs that shimmered faintly.
As they dined, their conversation flowed effortlessly. Narcissa shared stories about her classes, the pressure of being under constant scrutiny, and how her friends could not stop pestering her for details about him.
"And what do you tell them?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
"That you're charming, generous, and entirely mine," she said with a playful smirk.
Harry chuckled, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Accurate."
She blushed but didn't pull away. "What about you? How is your week going?"
"Busy," he admitted. "Between managing my properties, writing letters to you, and keeping your sister entertained, there's never a dull moment."
Narcissa's smile softened at the mention of his letters. "I look forward to them every day, you know. You have no idea how much they mean to me."
Harry squeezed her hand. "I could say the same about your replies. You're the reason my days feel brighter."
They took their time walking back to Hogwarts, stopping often to kiss and caress each other when they found a secluded spot. They arrived just as the afternoon light began to fade. When they reached the grand entrance Harry turned to Narcissa, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"I'll see you in a couple weeks," he said softly.
Her cheeks flushed. "I'll count the days."
He leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead—a gesture so tender it made her heart ache.
As Narcissa reentered the castle, her classmates swarmed her immediately, demanding details about her date. She answered them with an elegant but vague smile, unwilling to share too much of what she now considered sacred.
In her heart, she replayed every moment, every word, and every touch. Harry wasn't just her fiancé—he was quickly becoming the centre of her world
O – o – o – o
After that day, Narcissa became even more the centre of the school's focus and gossip. Her engagement to Lord Woodcroft made her the most talked-about girl in school. She daydreamed often during class, her thoughts drifting to Harry's hands, his kiss, his voice, his promises of a future filled with love and devotion. Over time, her daydreams became decidedly more sexual and more vivid. The anticipation for the first Hogsmeade weekend driving her mad.
Unfortunately, just as much as she thought of Harry people asked about him. Everywhere she went, students clamoured for details:
"What is he like?"
"Is he as powerful as they say?"
"Do you think he'll come to the Yule Ball?"
Narcissa handled the attention with poise, offering only vague but polite answers. Her fiancée was hers, and she would not let anyone pry into their private world.
A group of students whose parents followed Voldemort, had also grown more persistent - no Tom, Harry had called him Tom. They were often cornering her in the library and hallways, feigning friendliness.
"You must tell us more about Lord Woodcroft," one girl pressed. "It's not every day someone so powerful chooses to marry a Black."
Another chimed in, "What are his political views? Surely a man of his stature has strong opinions."
Narcissa saw through their ploys immediately. Tom's influence was clear, and she refused to be drawn into their schemes.
"Lord Woodcroft values his privacy," she said firmly. "And so do I."
Their frustration was palpable, but Narcissa didn't care. She avoided them as much as possible, even retreating to less-traveled corridors when necessary. She would protect Harry at all costs. He was hers, and no one—least of all Tom's sycophants—would use her to harm him.
She was beginning to feel the loneliness of constantly avoiding others when friendship found her in an unlikely place – Lily Evans.
Something about Harry had lingered in her mind. It wasn't just his charm or commanding presence; it was the brief yet meaningful connection she felt when they had spoken. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than he let on.
Lily found herself glancing at Narcissa Black during classes and in the common areas, curiosity gnawed at her. Narcissa was everything Lily was not: polished, aloof, and the epitome of Slytherin refinement. Yet there was something softer about her lately, an air of contentment that was impossible to ignore.
One day, as Narcissa sat alone in the library, poring over a thick book on magical herbs and medicines, Lily hesitated before approaching her.
"Mind if I sit?" Lily asked, her voice tentative.
Narcissa looked up, her expression guarded but not unfriendly. "If you must."
Lily smiled faintly and slid into the chair across from her. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the scratching of quills and the rustling of pages filling the air.
Finally, Lily spoke. "I wanted to thank you."
Narcissa blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Thank me? For what?"
"For what your fiancé said to me," Lily explained. "When he was here. I didn't think anyone could defend someone in a way that didn't feel... patronising."
Narcissa's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "That does sound like Harry. He has a way of seeing people for who they truly are."
"He's remarkable," Lily admitted.
"He is," Narcissa agreed, her tone softening as she spoke. "But he's also mine."
Lily laughed lightly, catching the playful edge in Narcissa's voice. "Don't worry, I'm not interested in stealing him. But I am curious—what's it like? Being engaged to someone so... larger than life?"
Their conversation that day began cautiously, circling around safe topics like classes, professors, and the overwhelming expectations placed on them as young witches. Yet, as the minutes ticked by, a surprising ease settled between them.
Narcissa, who rarely let her guard down, found herself intrigued by Lily's straightforwardness. The Gryffindor was intelligent, sharp-witted, and refreshingly genuine—qualities Narcissa admired but seldom encountered in her own circle.
Lily, in turn, discovered that Narcissa wasn't nearly as haughty as she'd seemed. Beneath her poised exterior was a girl with dreams, insecurities, and a deep love for the man she was about to marry.
In the weeks that followed, the two began to spend more time together. It wasn't an immediate or obvious friendship, but rather a gradual alignment of mutual respect and understanding.
As their friendship grew, Narcissa began to open up about her struggles—her frustration with the pressure to uphold the Black family's reputation, her wariness of Voldemort's growing influence, and her determination to carve out a life with Harry that was truly her own.
Lily listened without judgment, offering thoughtful advice where she could. In return, she shared her own challenges—navigating the complexities of being Muggle-born in a sometimes-hostile world and dealing with the relentless attention of James Potter.
As the Hogsmeade weekend approached, they often sat together in the common areas, Narcissa planning wedding details while Lily worked on Potions assignments. Their growing bond didn't go unnoticed, and while it raised a few eyebrows, neither girl cared.
In each other, they had found an unlikely ally—a reminder that sometimes, the strongest connections are forged in the most surprising places.
With a new ally to distract her from how much she missed Harry, the first Hogsmeade weekend quickly arrived and she was bouncing with excitement. When Narcissa saw him as she reached the top of the hill, her heart skipped a beat. The sight of Harry, standing tall and confident among the gathered students, took her breath away. His eyes met hers, and the world seemed to fade.
Harry stepped forward, ignoring the stares and whispers of the crowd, and took her hand. "You're more beautiful than I remembered," he murmured, kissing her knuckles.
Blushing furiously, Narcissa couldn't suppress her grin. The crowd around them buzzed with envy, but Harry's focus was solely on her. He offered her his arm, and together they strolled through the village.
Their day was a dream. Harry took her to an exclusive tearoom where the staff treated them like royalty, serving the finest teas and pastries. Next came a shopping spree that left Narcissa breathless—Harry bought her a sapphire necklace that matched her eyes, slipping it around her neck with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.
Everywhere they went, students and villagers alike watched them with awe. Narcissa reveled in the attention, but more than that, she cherished the way Harry made her feel like the only woman in the world.
After a private lunch at the bed-and-breakfast Harry owned, where they shared stolen kisses and laughter, Harry lifted her into his arms and carried her to the elegant suite he had reserved for them.
"Are you nervous!" He whispered into her hair. She looked up at him, eyes shining with trust and arousal.
"No. I'm with you." He kissed her head softly then her lips.
As soon as he put her down her eyes locked with his. The tension in the room was suddenly palatable. She moved first, capturing his lips in a possessive kiss as she removed his robes and pushed him up against the wall. Narcissa gasped in surprise when he returned her kisses with equal fervour, plunging his tongue into her mouth and exploring it eagerly. Harry pulled her hips into him, their bodies crushed together. She could feel him quickly hardening against her thigh and moaned in satisfaction. Boldly, she cupped his manhood, squeezing slightly as she repositioned herself. Harry's eyes opened wide as she opened his trousers snaking her hand inside to touch him for the first time. He twitched involuntarily, moaning at her ministrations. Narcissa removed her hand from his pants and peppered kisses down his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt.
Suddenly, Harry spun her around. With one hand, he undid her robes as he kissed her tenderly. He tossed them to the floor and stepped back, savouring this chance to look at her.
She was just wearing a dress now. Her hair mussed and lips bruised from kissing. Her breath caught as he tugged her dress up. His eyes took in the ivory flesh of her legs.
"May I?" He asked. She nodded vigorously and raised her arms to help. He continued to pull the dress up, over her head, letting it drop to the floor with the rest of their clothes. He moved closer again. Narcissa's heart was beating erratically in her chest as his hands ran down her sides, and eyes raked over her body. She watched his pupils dilate with arousal and it fuelled the now familiar feeling of arousal in herself. Narcissa wanted Harry so badly she thought it might consume her.
She panted as he continued to slowly move his hands up her side, until he was cupping her breasts. She gasped as he pinched her hardened nipples, his eyes locked on her face. Her head fell back, eyes closed. He pulled his hands away from her chest and she mewled at the loss of contact. Harry chuckled as he kissed her softly, then harder for good measure.
"I just wanted to move us to the bed," he whispered as he took her hand. She nodded and followed him willingly. When they reached the edge of the bed, she removed the rest of his shirt, her hands shaking as she undid the last few buttons.
** BEGINNING OF LEMON **
"You didn't wear any panties," he nearly growled. Narcissa smirked.
"I figured they'd only be in the way." Harry took her face in his hands kissing her passionately as he moved her onto the bed. She slowly scooted backwards gasping at the sight of Harry's naked form crawling towards her. She was right, he is very big.
When he reached her, he pressed his lips to hers firmly as he slowly nudged her legs apart with his knee and guided her down to the plush pillow beneath her head. His lips feathered kisses across the heated skin of her neck, and then he pressed his teeth into her pulse point gently. He grinned against her skin, as she arched against him, her breath coming in rapid gasps. Leisurely, he continued his exploration of her body. He dropped his head back to her neck and continued to taste her. He gently nipped her collar bone, then ran his tongue along the bite mark. His lips hovered over her heart. He pressed his lips against her chest, kissing her heart.
Narcissa's blue eyes watched him, her mouth parted as he lowered his head to her breast. He pulled her nipple into his mouth. She gasped again. His hot tongue rolled her nipple around his mouth. He released one and moved to the other, allowing his fingers to twist and pull her other breast. Narcissa was biting the inside of her lip to keep from crying out. His lips drifted lower, his tongue swirling designs on her stomach. A low whimper escaped her.
Softly, Harry finally touched her, moaning at how wet she was. His finger gently started to rub her as his eyes traced her body, from her hands, to the smooth lines of her arms, the swell of her breasts, her taught stomach, her strong legs. Merlin, he loved everything about this woman.
Harry pushed her legs apart more, kneeling between her thighs as he continued to rub her. Her muscles were trembling with the need to move. He took his free hand and caressed her inner thigh.
"So beautiful," he said, watching a flush spread across her cheeks. He reached up and flicked one of her nipples again. She gasped and immediately bit her lip in pleasure.
"Harry p-p-please H- Harry," she moaned as she squirmed beneath him.
"Please what, my love? Tell me what you want?" Narcissa didn't miss the term of endearment and flushed at his words.
"T-Touch me…. More…. Down there."
Harry lowered himself on top of her, her hips cradling his. Narcissa could feel his erection, so close to where she wanted it. She grabbed his shoulders, holding him to her, determined to never let him go. Harry pulled one nipple into his mouth as he dragged his other hand down her side, gently cupped her ass, before sliding his fingers back into her dark curls. He released her nipple and sat up. He could feel her slick heat just waiting for him. He pushed his finger through her curls until he touched her slick clit. Her hips bucked, a stifled gasp tearing from her throat. Harry slid his finger lower, running his fingertip along her wet opening. Her eyes were closed, her face screwed up as she tried valiantly not to scream.
"Let go, Narcissa. I want to hear my name on your lips when I make you orgasm". Her eyes shot open looking at him curiously.
"O-orgasm? What is that?" She asked through ragged breaths. That wasn't in any of the books her mother had given her. Harry chuckled and brought his mouth to her ear.
"It is what you will feel in a few moments when I bring you to the peak of pleasure. That is if you can stop asking questions and just enjoy it," Harry said with a smirk as he moved to kiss her.
"That – that sounds nice," she said as a smirk filled her features. He smiled at her and then plunged his finger into her. Her eyes flew open even wider as her hips bucked into his hand. 'I'm going to have to visit the restricted section when I get back to Hogwarts. I need to know how I give him one of those orgasms.'
She watched as he scooted down the bed, curious about what he was doing. His hands feathering over her stomach. He pressed his lips against her inner thigh, gently biting her before looking back at her.
His tongue lapped along the edge of her nether lips. He used his hands to keep her legs spread apart. He pressed his lips hard against her, sucking on her clit. Her hips bucked against his hands as he held them down. Harry's tongue moved in long, sure strokes over her.
Narcissa kept her eyes locked on Harry's head, buried as it was between her thighs. Their eyes locked over her body, and she felt him smile against her. He dropped his eyes and pressed his mouth against her harder. He drove his tongue into her then moved one of his hands and pressed hard on her clit, rubbing it while he swirled his tongue deep inside her.
Harry drove his hips into the bed, desperate for relief. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever been so hard in his life. He pulled his head up and looked at her. Her eyes were heavily lidded but she was still watching him. He stroked her side. His lips and chin glistened with her juices. He dipped his head back down and licked her clit. She squirmed beneath him, and she watched as his own hips thrust against the bed. He sucked hard on her little nub, his tongue swirling around it. She could feel a heaviness deep in her belly, spreading through her with every lap of his tongue and she slammed her eye shut.
"H-H- Harry? Ah – that feels so good." Narcissa barely managed as her breath became laboured.
He lifted his head and looked at her, a smile darting across his face. She was biting her lip, her chest heaving. Her muscles trembled. Harry touched her gently again and she shuddered, so he repeated the action, his eyes rolled up to watch her reaction. He dove back into her, driving his tongue into her. His hips ground into the bed with the same rhythm as his tongue.
"Harry, oh, my love!"
The heaviness in her belly was back, spreading faster through her body with every magnificent stroke of his tongue. Harry pressed on her clit, rubbing it, changing the rhythm every time she thought she had gotten used to it.
Narcissa's hips rose to meet his tongue. She clung to the bed, her fists clenched as her walls tightened around his tongue. She was teetering on the brink, so close to shattering in a million tiny pieces. Then, with one last, sure stroke of his tongue, she fell off the edge.
"Harry!" she screamed, writhing as he lapped and sucked at her. He licked her clean, his hips still grinding into the bed. He reached up and grabbed her hand, their fingers intertwined. He lifted his head, staring up her body at her face. She blushed at the way he looked at her. He helped her ride out the lingering waves of passion and then kissed her gently pulling her into his lap.
** END OF LEMON **
A couple hours later, he walked her back to the gates of Hogwarts. He took the long way, along the outskirts of the village. The snow was beginning to fall, dusting the landscape in white. As their romantic day in Hogsmeade began to wind down, Narcissa and Harry walked hand-in-hand through the snowy streets. The village was glowing under the dimming light, its windows twinkling with candles and the warmth of bustling shops. Harry had just finished recounting a humorous story about a mischief-making house elf at one of his properties when Narcissa suddenly stopped walking.
"Harry?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with a hint of nervousness.
He turned to her immediately, his expression warm. "Yes, my love?"
Narcissa bit her lip, a rare display of uncertainty crossing her usually composed demeanour. She glanced down at the snowy cobblestones before meeting his gaze. "There's something I wanted to ask you... but I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it."
Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "You can ask me anything, Narcissa. You should know that by now."
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders, regaining her poise. "The Yule Ball is coming up at Hogwarts in December. It's a rather important event, especially for seventh years like me. And while I know you're incredibly busy..."
Harry tilted his head, already sensing where this was going.
"...would you be my date?" she finished in a rush, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. "I know it's unusual for someone not attending the school, but you're Lord Woodcroft. No one would dare object."
For a moment, Harry didn't respond, and Narcissa's heart began to race. Had she overstepped? Was it too much to ask?
But then Harry's face broke into a radiant smile. "You want me to be your date to the Yule Ball?"
She nodded, her blush deepening.
"Narcissa," he said, taking her hands in his. "I would be honoured to escort you. Nothing could keep me away from seeing you shine at such an event."
Her relief was palpable, and her lips curled into a beaming smile. "Really? You'll come?"
"Of course," he said firmly, pulling her closer. "There's nothing I want more than to see you in your element, dazzling everyone, while they envy the man lucky enough to call you his fiancée."
Narcissa laughed softly, her confidence restored. She leaned up to kiss him lightly on the lips, her excitement bubbling over. "I'll owl you the date and time as soon as the details are finalised. You'll need dress robes, of course—though I imagine you already have something terribly elegant hidden away."
"Whatever I wear, it won't compare to you," Harry said with a smirk.
They continued their walk, their conversation filled with plans for the upcoming ball and their shared anticipation. When they reached the gate Harry stopped reluctantly.
"Narcissa, I want you to know that I meant what I said in my letters. I'll do everything in my power to give you the life you've dreamed of."
She looked up at him, her heart swelling. "And I'll do the same for you."
He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "You're everything to me, Narcissa."
And then he kissed her, slow and deep, the world around them falling away.
When Narcissa returned to Hogwarts that evening, she was practically glowing. Her friends bombarded her with questions, but she answered only a few before retreating to her dormitory.
In the quiet of her room, she fingered the sapphire necklace Harry had given her and smiled. She thought of their day, his devotion, and the promise of a future together.
Yes, he was hers, and she was his. And she would do anything to protect that.
The next morning, Narcissa sent Harry an elegant parchment sealed with a golden wax crest. Inside, her neat script conveyed the official date of the Yule Ball, followed by a playful note:
My Dearest Harry,
Start preparing now. The Yule Ball is December 20th, and I expect you to be the most dashing man in attendance—though I have no doubt you'll outshine them all with ease. I know it is the day before Bella's wedding, but I very much hope you can come. Don't keep me waiting too long for a reply; I've been counting down the days already.
Yours impatiently,
Narcissa
Harry laughed as he read the letter, his excitement for the event matching hers. He made a mental note to make sure all the wedding preparations were completed well in advance so he could clear his schedule and began considering how to make their evening even more memorable.
The Yule Ball couldn't come soon enough.
o – o – o - o
The night before the Yule Ball was an unusually quiet evening at Hogwarts, the stillness broken only by the rustling of leaves outside the castle walls. Narcissa Black walked down a dimly lit corridor toward the Slytherin common room, clutching the finalised guest list and wedding menu her mother had owled to her earlier in the day for a final review. The excitement of planning her upcoming wedding still lingered in her thoughts as she imagined her life with Harry.
However, her joy was short-lived. As she rounded a corner, Lucius Malfoy and a group of death eater wannabes emerged from the shadows, their expressions dark and menacing.
"Narcissa," Lucius said smoothly, though his tone dripped with malice. "We need to talk."
Narcissa's heart sank. She knew this day might come— Tom's followers had been growing restless with her silence. She squared her shoulders, masking her fear with icy composure.
"I have nothing to say to you, Lucius," she replied coldly, trying to step around him.
But his friends closed ranks, blocking her path. "Oh, I think you do," Lucius sneered, drawing his wand. "You've been awfully quiet about your beloved Lord Woodcroft. Surely you can tell ussomething."
"I owe you nothing," Narcissa snapped, keeping her hand steady as she clutched the parchment in her hand. "Now let me pass."
Lucius smirked. "Wrong answer."
With a flick of his wand, the papers flew out of her hands, scattering across the floor. Before she could react, two of the boys grabbed her arms, pinning her against the cold stone wall. Lucius came over taking her in hungrily. He ran his finger along her jawline then down the valley of her breasts, touching her in a way that only Harry ever had. She felt dirty and ashamed.
"You should have been mine," he growled in her ear.
Narcissa struggled against her captors, her breath quickening as Lucius stepped closer, his lips just a breathe away from her own.
"Let's try this again," he said, his voice a low hiss. "What do you know about Lord Woodcroft? His plans? His alliances? Tell us, and maybe we'll let you go."
"I know you're pathetic," Narcissa spat, glaring at him. "You think hurting me will impress Tom? He doesn't care about you, Malfoy."
Lucius's face twisted with fury, and he raised his wand. "Cruci—"
Narcissa didn't wait. She twisted the emerald ring on her finger as she ducked, the one Harry had given her with a promise:"If you are ever in trouble, just turn the ring. I will come for you."
The magic surged through her ring, a warmth spreading through her hand as if Harry himself had taken hold of it.
In an instant, a loudcrackechoed through the corridor, and her captors were thrown across the hallway landing against the far wall with a distant bang. Moments later, Harry Woodcroft was running towards her, his eyes blazing with fury.
Lucius stumbled back in shock, his wand faltering. "What—how—?"
Harry wasted no time. With a flick of his own wand, Lucius was thrown backward, crashing into the stone walls like a ragdoll.
"Get away from her," Harry said, his voice low and deadly.
Lucius scrambled to his feet, his face pale. "You can't attack us here. Dumbledore—"
"Dumbledore will understand," Harry interrupted, his wand steady. "Unlike you, I don't resort to cowardice and ambushes. Now leave, before I make you regret it."
The raw power radiating from Harry was enough to make the others hesitate. Lucius's friends grabbed their wands and fled, but Lucius lingered, his jaw tightening.
"This isn't over," he hissed, glaring at Harry and Narcissa.
"Yes, it is," Harry replied coldly. "Run back to your master and tell him this: if he touches what's mine, he'll regret it."
Lucius flinched but said nothing more. With one last hateful glance, he turned and stalked away.
As the corridor fell silent, Harry turned to Narcissa, his expression softening.
"Are you alright?" he asked, stepping closer. Narcissa's composure broke, and she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. "I'm fine now," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Harry held her tightly, stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner."
"You came the moment I needed you," she replied, looking up at him. "That's all that matters."
His gaze searched hers, his hands cupping her face. "I won't let anyone hurt you, Narcissa. Ever."
She nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. "I know."
Harry kissed her passionately, possessively pouring all of the love he had for into the kiss. When he eventually pulled away they were both panting heavily.
Harry escorted her back to the Slytherin common room entrance, ensuring she was safe. Before she slipped inside, he pulled her to him kissing her firmly, his expression serious.
"Be careful," he said. "I'll be checking in with Dumbledore to make sure this doesn't happen again. But if you ever feel unsafe, use the ring. I'll always come for you."
She smiled, her confidence restored. "I know you will."
As she disappeared behind the stone wall, Harry's expression hardened. He knew this wouldn't be the last time Voldemort's followers tried something. But he would be ready.
And woe to anyone who dared threaten the woman he loved.