Author's Note: Unfortunately, the trend of health issues has been continuing in my life. My cat got severely ill and we had to take her to the vet. She seems to be doing better now, but given everything involved and the health problems my partner and I were already having, I still haven't had much time to write. Hopefully, I can actually get back onto a consistent schedule now.
"Oh my god, Harry!" Phoebe laughed, one hand on his shoulder to steady herself, "You can't just say something like that about your cousin!"
"You can't tell me you never had that thought!" Harry chuckled, pointing an accusing finger at the pretty girl sitting next to him. It had only been a minute or so since she had first invaded his booth, but he was quickly finding her presence a most welcome addition.
"Well," she flushed prettily, "he was quite, uh, large when we were younger I suppose."
"I knew it!" Harry laughed, "I knew I wasn't the only one who thought he looked like a pig in a wig." Phoebe leaned forward, burying her face in his chest to hide her incriminating blush as her hands fisted in his shirt.
"I never said that!" She moaned, her words muffled against his chest.
"You were thinking it pretty loud though."
"Oh, shut up," she punched him in the chest gently. She looked up at him through her lashes and he was struck again by just how blue her eyes were, like a cloudless sky in the heart of summer.
"I'm glad we ran into each other like this," he said, wondering if it would be weird for him to stroke her hair. It looked so soft, like a cloud spun from gold.
"Me too, even if you did try to pretend you were someone else at first." She gave him a reproachful look as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"Sorry about that, I thought you were a w- Uh, a fan." He corrected himself at the last moment, he really didn't need to go breaking the Statute of Secrecy for a second summer in a row, even if the truth about Voldemort was out now.
"A fan?" Phoebe asked, a positively devilish smile spreading across her face. "And what have you done to get fans, Harry Potter?"
"Uhhh," somehow, he didn't think 'vanquished a dark lord when I was a baby' would be considered a very satisfactory answer.
"Let me guess," Phoebe put a contemplative finger to her lips, looking him up and down in much the same way one might a prize stud at auction. "Male model?"
"Ha!" Harry couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement, "Not likely."
"What then?"
Bugger, I really should've just agreed with her, shouldn't I? It would've been a much easier out than having to think up a new excuse all on his lonesome.
"I won an international competition a while back, I guess it got me a bit of a following," Harry shrugged, taking comfort in the fact that it was technically true.
"And what kind of competition was this, Champ?" Phoebe twirled a lock of her black and blonde hair around a finger in a beguilingly innocent fashion, batting her big blue eyes at him.
"Survival," he answered with a grin.
"Ooh!" she cooed approvingly, scooting closer to him so her hip was flush against his. "So, was that girl I saw you with earlier a fan too?"
"Who? Tonks?" He practically giggled at the idea the highly capable auror could ever be mistaken for a fangirl.
"First name basis, are you?" Her tone was light, but there was a tightness to Phoebe's brow that indicated there was most definitely a wrong answer to the question.
"Last name, actually," He corrected her. "She's a friend."
"She certainly seemed like she was getting pretty friendly." Phoebe took a recriminating sip of her drink.
"That's Tonks for you, gotta be the least responsible auror I've ever met."
"Auror?"
Harry froze, then tried to cover it with a laugh, "Slang for police."
"Haven't heard that one before," Phoebe said musingly, fixing him with a shrewd look. "So, you two aren't together?"
"Me and Tonks!?" He guffawed, hoping it would be enough to disguise how much the idea appealed. "Definitely not."
"Interesting." Phoebe finished off her drink, pushing it to the centre of the table before grabbing his arm, hugging it to her chest. For a moment, he cursed the thick material of his new jacket for deadening the feel of the two soft mounds now pressing against him.
"What about you and Piers?" He asked, nodding to the man who was currently glaring daggers at them from the other booth.
Phoebe laughed uproariously, "I don't remember you being such a comedian, Harry!"
"He's certainly glaring at me enough," Harry shrugged.
"He is?" Phoebe turned to look, eyes narrowed. Piers immediately looked away, but not quickly enough to avoid her notice. "That git!" She fumed. "He's like this every time I try to talk to a guy!"
She raised her voice, shouting loud enough to be heard even over the thumping music, "WHICH IS PRETTY RICH, GIVEN HE'S ALREADY DATING KATE!" The girl sitting next to Piers turned at the sound of her name, glancing between her friend and boyfriend before crossing her arms and glaring at the latter.
"That was a little mean," Harry observed, not trying very hard to hide his approval.
"He's a little wanker," she answered easily.
"I'll make a note not to get on your bad side," he joked.
"Aww, you're not scared of lil 'ol me, are you, Harry?" She raised a finger to her lips innocently, nibbling on the tip beguilingly.
"Shouldn't I be?"
"Smart lad," she hummed approvingly, turning and throwing her legs over his before giving him a quick hug. She felt amazing pressed against him, the scent of lavender and alcohol filling his nostrils.
"Oh, wow!" She said, pulling back and looking at him with concern. "You're boiling!"
Now that she mentioned it, he was feeling very hot under his heavy jacket. A situation only worsened by the heat her proximity was conjuring in him.
"Let me help you with your jacket," reaching up, she slid her hands over his chest and under his jacket, pushing it back off his shoulders. Her touch was fire against his already feverish skin, her clever fingers teasing his sensitive flesh through the fabric of his shirt. He shrugged it off, letting it fall onto the seat behind him.
"Better?" She asked coyly, her hands sliding back down his chest.
He grinned back at her, feeling daring, "A bit, but I have an idea that'll help even more."
Her eyes flashed with delight, "Oh? And what's that?"
By way of answer, he reached down and put his hands on her hips, pulling her into his lap so she was straddling him. She complied eagerly, her arms looping around his neck as she leaned forward and inhaled deeply, her face pressed against the crook of his neck.
"You're right," she said huskily, pulling back to look up into his emerald eyes with a pair that now looked more like windows to the ocean depths than a summer sky. "This is much better."
He stroked his thumbs against her hips, sending a shiver through her that felt incredible against him. She was wearing a short skirt, like Tonks had been, and with her legs like this, he could see a very enticing amount of the smooth skin of her thighs.
"Do you do this with all your old schoolmates?" He asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear her admit it.
"Only the ones who look this good." She put her hands on his shoulders and scooted herself closer, her crotch now pressing against his stomach and the curve of her arse firmly pressed against the steadily growing bulge in his jeans.
"Oh!" Her smile grew positively sinful. "Well hello there." She repeated her movement, grinding herself against him and letting out a throaty sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan. His hands moved of their own accord, sliding down and around to cup the firm globes of her arse, squeezing and pressing her down harder against him.
"Found something you like?" He bucked his hips slightly, drawing a stifled gasp from her pink lips.
"Mmm, very much." Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair, exposing his lightning bolt scar for a moment. "You know, my uncle owns this club."
Harry blinked, confused by the apparent non-sequitur, "He does?"
Phoebe giggled, leaning forward to press her breasts against his chest. He didn't bother trying to hide it when he looked down her shirt to take in the delicious view.
"People always think it means I get free drinks and stuff like that," turning, she nodded toward the group she'd been sitting with. "That's why they wanted to come here tonight."
"And what does it actually mean?" He asked, his breath hitching slightly when she ground herself against him again.
"Nothing much really," she shrugged carelessly. "Just that I get to go behind the scenes if I want."
She looked up at him again through her lashes, "My uncle has a very nice desk."
Harry's cock twitched against her arse, drawing another shiver from the girl in his lap, "Does he now?"
"Mhmm," she leaned forward, nibbling at his earlobe for a moment before whispering in his ear, "what do you think we should do with it?"
Tangling his fingers in her long blonde hair, he pulled her lips to his, giving her a searing kiss. She moaned, her lips parting in invitation. He accepted eagerly, his tongue slipping inside her mouth to taste and wrestle with hers.
After several long moments, he pulled away, moving down and kissing his way along her jaw before nipping sharply at her ear. Her breath hitched, her hips bucking against him approvingly. He could feel her nipples pressing against him through the fabric of her shirt, twin peaks rising from the soft hills of her breasts.
"I think I should bend you over it and fuck you stupid," she shuddered at his words, her hands fisting themselves in the fabric of his shirt.
Leaning back, he grinned at her with a cockiness he'd never felt before in his life, "Would that work?"
"Let's find out."
Tonks' pace increased as she turned yet another corner in the unreasonably labyrinthine back rooms of the club. The fuck was with this place?
She'd been through at least a dozen identical hallways lined with doors, and every time one seemed to line up with the direction the spell indicated Harry to be, it opened to another storage room. Or an office. Or a luxuriously upholstered room for private parties or VIPs. Or even a bloody holding cell at one point.
That hadn't done anything to help her ease the slowly mounting concern churning in the pit of her stomach.
There are plenty of perfectly legitimate, not at all suspicious, reasons why a nightclub would have a holding cell. She told herself, making sure to keep her breathing slow and regular even as she increased her pace.
Panicking would only serve to slow her thoughts and hamper her search, which would do nothing for her or Harry. She needed to go about this logically.
She knew enough about Muggles to know that they'd be monitoring everything from somewhere, probably a security room. Even if Harry wasn't on any of the cameras when she got there, it would at least have a map of the building's layout she could use to get a better fix on where he could be and how to get there.
That still left her the problem of how to find the security room, but, luckily for her, there was a whole team of people who'd be happy to escort her there.
Looking around, she quickly found the closest security camera. Stepping in front of it, she cancelled the levitation charm she'd been using. Now all she needed to do was wait.
Muggle electronics, although very impressive and increasingly sophisticated, were all but useless as security measures against anyone with magic. Even the simplest of spells caused enough interference that the user would only appear as a blurry flicker of faint discolouration.
The very best aurors, like Kingsley or Mad-Eye, could avoid detection simply by maintaining a constant flow of magic through their bodies, without needing to cast a spell at all. Her control wasn't quite fine enough to do that reliably, yet. So she stuck with a levitation charm.
It took only a few minutes for her to be forced to accept the flaw in her plan.
Alerting security to your presence only worked if security was alert. Clearly, whoever was manning the cameras, if there even was anyone, wasn't paying any attention to the areas this far away from the public areas of the club.
And why would they? To get to them an intruder would have to come through all the more carefully guarded spaces first.
Human laziness: the eternal enemy of effective auror work.
Time to prove why she was such a damn good auror.
Crossing to the nearest room, she opened the door and slipped inside the empty office she found beyond. After performing a quick but thorough search and concluding the room was, in fact, as deserted as it seemed, she pulled her wand from where she had been holding it reversed inside her sleeve.
Twirling and flicking like a conductor at the head of a mighty orchestra, she cast a battery of detection and location spells. Information slammed into her skull in a rush that often caused less experienced aurors splitting migraines. Much to their instructors' amusement.
There were around fifty other individuals in her vicinity, mostly split into small groups apart from a large concentration at the far end of the building from where she'd come. These were moving back and forth repeatedly, and, after a moment's consideration, she concluded they were most likely unloading supplies from a loading dock given their location and movement. She made note of their position nonetheless.
What she was more concerned with was the other magical presence in the area. Where her own presence felt like a steadily blazing bonfire, this one was like a raging wildfire. Much brighter and more intense, but, also, far less controlled. It was so bright she couldn't even tell if there were any other magicals in its immediate vicinity.
As her spell brushed against the fringes of it, a bolt of energy crackled from it, surging back along the trail of her extended consciousness and threatening to overwhelm her delicate control.
That was probably Harry, especially since it was in roughly the direction her earlier tracking spell indicated him to be. Her instincts told her it definitely was, but Moody had spent far too long beating that kind of lazy complacency out of her to let such an assumption make her careless.
Even if it wasn't the object of her search, however, it was more likely that they were involved than any of the muggles she could feel within range. Meaning she needed to get there to investigate.
Which was where her next spell came into play. Originally developed as a mining spell, back when uppity purebloods had yet to accept they would never be any kind of serious competition to goblins when it came to the mining and refinement of ores and minerals, it wasn't one many wizards bothered with.
Few wizarding areas had much metal, certainly not in any kind of structured order that would be useful to an auror. Magic made things such as pipe and duct systems for water, heating, and ventilation far more hassle than they were worth.
In muggle buildings, though? Tonks suppressed a smile as a lattice of wires, pipes, and ducts scrawled itself across the inside of her mind, providing a map of the walls, ceilings, and floors surrounding the individuals her other spell showed her.
It wasn't perfect, there were still plenty of gaps where wiring and piping simply weren't present, but it gave her enough of an indication to make it clear she had taken a wrong turn two corridors back.
Although her current route would eventually lead her to Harry, it would do so only after circumventing what appeared to be the primary storage warehouse for the club. At least, that was the most likely function for the cavernous space filled with metal shelving or cabinets on the other side of the back wall of the room she was standing in.
Her other detective charms, the ones aimed at detecting less mundane activity, informed her that there were no wards or other protective enchantments in the area. At least, none that hadn't been carefully concealed with further spells.
She could use a more sophisticated battery of spells to attempt to pierce such magical subterfuge, but in the course of an investigation where she already had such a strong lead, the increased scrutiny rapidly yielded diminishing returns. Time enough to look for magical concealment if her current methods failed to turn up anything.
Sliding her wand back up into her sleeve, she exited the room and swiftly retraced her steps before taking the hall she had previously neglected. Her new path at first took her away from Harry, which was why she had elected not to take it originally, but a junction quickly had her heading directly in line with the tugging in her gut.
It was only a few moments later that she was forced to drop the first of her more advanced detection spells, the radiance of the other magical's presence rapidly escalating from unpleasantly bright to blinding. Still, by that point, it had served its purpose and she was already turning the corner into what her metal detection spell indicated was her final corridor.
Listening intently, she prowled down the hallway, keeping a healthy distance between herself and the doors. Just in case someone was lying in wait behind the kind of concealment charms she hadn't the time to try and detect.
No ambushes were forthcoming, but she'd only taken a few steps down the hallway when the sound of a muffled cry reached her.
It was high-pitched, too high to be Harry, but not quite high enough to be a full-fledged scream. It cut off quickly, as if someone had muffled it.
Not good.
Quickening her pace, Tonks jogged down the hall, sacrificing stealth and caution as much as she dared in favour of reaching the source of the disturbance. As she drew closer, more sounds came, shorter and quieter, then another, long and drawn out but stuttering, hitching rhythmically.
By now she had reached the door, the tugging in her gut strong enough that it almost felt like it would draw her insides out through her navel.
Harry was in there.
Wand ready to draw in an instant, she burst through the door.
"Ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh!" Moaned the very buxom blonde-and-black-haired girl she'd seen watching Harry from the nearby booth. Her formerly immaculate hair was a mess, a few sweat-slicked strands hanging loose around her flushed face, the rest in a messy ponytail wrapped around the fist of the man behind her.
Her heavy breasts were pressed against the beautifully varnished surface of a large and intricately carved desk, formed of some marvellously rich-hued wood that probably cost a fortune. Her entire body shook with every savage thrust of the man behind her, Tonks could see the muscles in her abdomen spasming, convulsions of ecstasy that radiated out into the toned flesh of her shapely arse and down into her thighs.
Which, then led her eyes inexorably to the man currently fucking the poor helpless girl senseless.
Harry James Potter.
His messy black hair was even untidier than usual, his glasses slipping down his nose slightly as his body shook with the force of the pounding he was giving the girl beneath him. A bead of sweat trailed its way lazily down onto his neck, where her eyes found another making the journey across the angular planes of his chest.
He had abs, she was honestly a little surprised to discover, a series of sharp angles and hard muscular planes that made her want to scratch her fingernails across them gently. They were glistening in the warm rich light of the office, a sheen of exertion that caught the light and invited her eyes to linger longer.
But the pull of what lay below was too strong.
Giving in to temptation, she let her eyes dip yet further.
Hermione was right. He was huge.
Slick with combined arousal, she marvelled at the sheer length of his cock that was visible, even with at least some of it still buried in his partner. It was thick, shot through with veins that pulsed angrily in time with his heartbeat. It made her insides clench thinking what that would feel like inside her.
Even as she watched, it twitched, the heavy balls hanging beneath it contracted in pleasure at some fresh stimulation as she drank in the visual feast presented to her.
A visual feast, she belatedly realised, that was not quite as mobile as it probably should've been.
"Er, Tonks?" Harry's voice broke through her reverie, tight with pleasure but still sheepish.
Looking up, she found both him and the girl he'd been fucking frozen in place, staring at her with the guilty expressions of a pair of teenagers caught fucking somewhere they weren't supposed to.
Which is exactly what they were.
Harry hissed, almost imperceptibly, and looking down she caught a shuddering quiver seizing through the muscles of the girl's thighs. His hips twitched, pushing a little more of his thick shaft out of view inside his partner.
"We were just-" He grunted out, masking the practically inaudible whine that issued from the girl whose pussy he was still inside.
"Right," Tonks stumbled over the word, her tongue feeling fat and stupid in her suddenly very dry mouth. She just knew she needed to say something, to stop him getting any further in describing what she could clearly see before her.
"Is- Argh," he cut off in a muted growl, "everything alright?"
"Y-yeah," her eyes fixed themselves back on the slick meat of his cock, a shudder running along its length, as if pleased by her attention.
"T-Tonks?" The word came out rough and low, like the snarl of a hunting beast.
"Wot?" Her voice was faint.
"Could you…" the words trailed off meaningfully. Suggestively.
Heat flared in her core, coiling around the knot of tension twisting inside her. Was he suggesting she… join? Her eyes flicked to the girl's face once more, her eyes were unfocused, staring up toward the ceiling as her lips moved silently, every breath coming as a silent panting groan of ecstasy.
Was that what he wanted to do to her? To bend her over next to the girl he'd already ruined and ravage her until she was a drooling mess spasming helplessly around his long hard cock?
She felt her body shift at the thought, her breasts swelling to strain her already tight shirt almost to the breaking point as her panties grew slick against her. She wanted that, wanted him. Wanted the girl too.
"Could you maybe wait o-outside?" The words came out in a tortured groan, Harry's hips twitching again, driving his dick a little deeper and bringing another spasm of pleasure shivering through the practically insensate girl.
"Wot?" The train of lustful imagination that had been happily bearing her away derailed, cars piling up on one another in a brilliant conflagration and spinning away into the night.
"Oh!" Right, of course, she'd just burst in on them mid-fuck. They probably didn't want to finish that while she was standing there watching them.
"OH!" Her face burned, she could feel her hair flaring up to match and desperately hoped the girl was too out of it to notice. "Right! Yes! Of course, I'll uh, I'll-" she looked back down, saw his cock again.
"Fuck me," thankfully it came out as an exclamation rather than a request, which might've been closer to the truth. "Sorry!" She shouted, turning blindly to try and make her way back out of the room.
Which was, of course, when she tripped over the pile of clothes she hadn't noticed strewn about the floor by the doorway. She hit the ground with a loud thud and a groan, her enlarged breasts doing irritatingly little to soften the impact.
"Tonks!" Harry cried, alarmed.
She tried to spring back up to her feet but her hand landed on a pair of lacy panties and slid rather than providing leverage. She got halfway up before losing her balance and pitching forward, looking destined to greet the floor face-first this time.
A hand seized her arm, yanking her back up onto her knees before she could crack her head against the unforgiving ground.
She looked up to thank Harry, only to freeze again when she found herself practically nose-to-nose with the angry purple head of his cock.
It swayed before her, somehow looking even more sinfully intimidating from so close. The smell invaded her nostrils, the heavy musk of his arousal mixing with the distinctly different scent of the girl's juices still slicking it.
She drew in a shuddering breath, filling her lungs with his scent and luxuriating in the burning need that seared its way through her nervous system. Her eyes met his and she could see the same lust smouldering in the depths of his emerald eyes.
He wanted her, wanted to plunge his achingly hard cock into her mouth and claim it like he had the blonde's needy cunt. She opened her mouth. To tell him to do it? To simply plunge herself down upon his length without waiting for him to make the first move?
"Sorry!" He yelped, leaping away from her and snapping his hands over his crotch in a completely futile attempt to hide himself from her.
She didn't bother trying to reply, nor even to get to her feet once more. She scrambled out of the room on her hands and knees and slammed the door shut behind her with a burst of accidental magic. Closing her eyes tight and trying to banish the sight of his massive dick from her mind, she wished she hadn't worn quite so short a skirt tonight.
And wondered if Harry had been too embarrassed to watch the inadvertent show.
Next Chapter: Saturday 15th March
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