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"Harry." Harry heard the sweet whisper.
"Huh?" He rose groggily to see Hannah gesturing her head outside her curtains.
The morning noise, birdsong and the chaos of the morning routine of teenage girls.
She gave him a quick kiss. "Ready?"
"Not really." Harry's insides twisted. Susan was too important to lose. Was making her angry the best way forward?
Hannah grabbed his face. "Trust me, okay."
Her wide eyes, sea blue, imploring.
"Okay."
She whipped the curtains open, straight into Susan's shocked gaze, her body freezing as she buttoned up her skirt.
Harry winced. "Morning, Sue."
"Shit." Hannah acted out.
"What the fuck?!" Susan exploded, face turning as red as her hair.
"It's not what it looks like." Hannah tried. Harry stifled a laugh, spelling his clothes on. He didn't want to be caught in their cat fight.
"You...you…" Sue struggled, her eyes coursing over Hannah's naked body, bruised and disheveled, along with the spoiled bedsheets. "You slut!"
"Harry's slut." Hannah replied, with an unapologetic grin.
"Listen, Sue," Harry started.
"Get the fuck out!" She snarled.
He held his hands up and made to rise up. Hannah stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, leaning in for a quick snog.
"Thanks, Harry." She gave him a naughty smile.
"Thank you." Harry replied, somewhat bewildered. Even with Tom's memories, even with the plan to anger Sue clearly working, he still didn't understand the machinations of women. Sue grabbed her wand and Harry scampered out to the sound of a screaming match beginning. He hoped they'd be able to rekindle their friendship. Their plan really depended on Hannah being able to talk Harry up, as well as sparking her jealousy.
Still, he didn't have time to worry about it. Today was the Quidditch match against Slytherin. Draco was out of hospital, ready to get beaten back into it. Quidditch didn't hold the same spark as it had before he took Tom's memories - it didn't hold the same luster, the same glamor, as power and fighting, magic and death. Victory, though, that would never lose its spark.
At breakfast, Ron gave him a queasy look. "Didn't see you get in this morning." He said, spitting out a little pumpkin juice onto an irritated Seamus.
"Got in late. Left early in the morning." Harry explained shortly. "What's wrong with you?"
"It's his first Quidditch game, Harry." Hermione frowned at him. "What do you think?"
Ron waved her off and grinned. "For a second, I thought you maybe got laid." He laughed uproariously. Harry laughed with him. Hermione didn't.
Behind him, the Great Hall doors slammed open as Susan stalked in.
"What's her problem?" Ron mused.
"Huffepuffs, eh?" Harry patted him on the shoulder.
The rest of the Gryffindor team was silent, nervous, barely touched their buttered toast. "Relax, guys," He casually draped his arms around Fred and George. "Don't worry, we're going to win today."
Katie looked at him with wide eyes. "What happened to Harry?"
Fred and George peered at him speculatively. "Maybe he really did get laid." Fred muttered.
"His hair does look more wild than usual." George noted.
"The girls do love his devil-may-care hair."
George sighed dreamily. "What girl wouldn't want to run their hands through his bed hair?"
"Bed hair? Or sex hair?"
"Nonsense," Harry clipped them both on the back of the head. "I'm just ready to beat Malfoy yet again. My favorite time of the year - apart from Christmas."
Angelina rose up from the table, a stern look on her face. "Beat Malfoy to the snitch, and maybe I'll dump Fred and you really will get laid."
The table erupted with laughter and thrown slices of toast.
Professor McGonagall soon arrived to chastise and lead them to the lockers. Hermione gave him and Ron a quick kiss on the cheek for luck, though she also seemed to give a sniff of his clothes too, leading him to worry. Detective Granger was on the case - none of his sexcapades were safe.
They dressed quickly, and Harry bounced on his feet as he waited for Angelina to finish her dull speech. He really needed to improve his Occlumency - his mind was swimming with matches he'd seen and not seen. Tom, watching a World Cup decades ago, bored out of his mind, only there to schmooze up to a famous dueler as he searched for tutoring. Narcissa, at an Arrows game with Lucius, whispering ignored advice to Lucius as he attempted an acquisition of the team. Hannah, age five, her parents having taken her to her first game, feeling but wonder and awe.
Their memories would not help. Quidditch was a game of instinct and tactics.
"One last thing." Harry said, as they made to leave the locker room. The team looked round at him curiously. "We are one hundred percent better at Quidditch than them. You're better Chasers, Beaters and Keepers. And I'm definitely better at Seeker than Malfoy. The only way they can win is if they get in our heads, make us angry at their fouls and their cheating. If you can just drown it out, I promise you, we will win. Don't come back in this room and realize you lost because you couldn't control your emotions."
"Hear, hear." Fred and George echoed.
"Hands on mine." Harry ordered, sticking his hand out. An array of sticky, clammy hands joined him. "Gryffindor on three. One, two, three."
"Gryffindor!" They roared before streaming out of the door.
"Maybe you should give the speeches from now on." Angelina muttered as he passed.
The sky was cloudy and gray, threatening to rain. The crowd weren't discouraged, roaring as they took to the skies. Harry tuned out Lee Jordan's commentary. It wasn't important. Instead, he rose high and found Draco, looking nervous but determined, and smirked at him.
"I need to tell you something." Harry called out.
"Fuck off, Potter." Draco snarled.
"No, this is serious. I'm not being a dick, and this isn't to put you off the game. It's about your family."
Draco looked at him suspiciously. "What is it?"
Harry smiled. "I fucked your mother."
The whistle blew, and Harry dived. Montague threw the Quaffle to Pucey, who found his broom being held by Harry as he tried to race away.
Hooch blew the whistle.
"Broom-holding! Penalty to Slytherin." Ron didn't save it. Ten points to Slytherin.
Hooch didn't catch him the next time he did it, leaving Pucey fuming as he failed to catch Warrington's pass, letting Katie steal in and score easily past the helpless Bletchley.
"Fuck off, Potter!" Pucey growled.
"What?" Harry said innocently.
Hooch did catch him the third time, but she also caught Pucey's enraged flailing elbow catching him in the face.
The loud whistle almost deafened him.
"Broom-holding! Penalty to Slytherin! Violent conduct, Pucey is suspended for two minutes!" Hooch called out. The crowd buzzed.
"He's done it three times, that's three strikes!" Pucey whined.
"Get on the ground, or it'll be three minutes." Hooch said definitively.
20-10 it became to Slytherin as Ron was scored against easily, but Pucey being out for two minutes meant Katie, Angelina and Alicia could score at will as they easily streamed past Slytherin's defence. Pucey came back to see his team down by thirty.
Harry signaled Fred and George as Pucey rose into the air.
"Ignore the play completely, hit every single Bludger at Pucey, okay?" He ordered.
"You got it." They echoed.
As soon as Pucey tried to join in on his team's play, Harry shadowed him. When he tried to move forward, Harry shot down from above, sending him to a stop. When he tried to move, Harry was at shoulder, stopping him from turning. When he tried to descend, Harry would be there, on his faster, more maneuverable Firebolt. Chasers were meant to be fast, to cut through the air. But Seekers were faster.
It only took time. Fred smashed a Bludger at Pucey, who tried to swing out of the way.
Harry barged him back into its path, a sickening crack echoing through the air as his nose was broken.
Pucey looked to the skies, trying to stop the blood streaming down - a rookie mistake. Harry smirked and signaled George. Pucey thought that by continuing to fly forwards, even without the ability to see or turn, he could simply out-pace the Bludgers. He was right, if Harry didn't hold his broom in place while George battered a Bludger at his head.
It almost took his head off. Harry winced as Pucey span towards the ground, to be caught by Madam Pomfrey.
"Broom-holding, third strike! Suspension for two minutes, Potter." Hooch barked.
Harry nodded his assent, unable to hide his smile. "Make sure Malfoy doesn't get the snitch in the next two minutes, boys." He told Fred and George, who grinned back widely.
"Potter, what the fuck are you doing?" Angelina said, barely audible over the whipping wind. "Us Chasers need protection!"
"I'm winning us the game. Do you know who Pucey's substitute is?"
"No?"
"Exactly!"
Pucey's substitute, it turned out, was a dark-haired tall boy named Vaisey. He trembled as he took to the skies and dropped his first pass. From down on the ground, Harry smiled.
The game was already over. Even with Malfoy trying to run interference, even as Gryffindor's famous Chaser trio weren't being defended from Bludgers, Fred and George too busy trying to knock Malfoy's heads up, they still managed to not concede before Harry was allowed back into the game.
With Harry back in, the game became out of control, Fred and George returning to their usual duties as Katie, Angelina and Alicia took over the game, scoring six times in three minutes. The score was 110 to 30, and all Harry needed to do was find the snitch.
Only the snitch didn't appear, and the score only became less equal. Soon, the 150 points that catching the snitch would gain wouldn't matter at all - Gryffindor couldn't lose.
Harry smirked. He'd never been in a position where he didn't need to catch the snitch.
Fred called out. "This is brilliant!" He beamed so wide Harry could see all of his teeth.
Harry nodded. "Let's finish it. Do me a favor and pretend to find the Snitch in a minute. Point towards our goal."
Fred's eyebrows wrinkled. "How is that gonna help?"
"Trust me."
A minute later, Fred caught his eye and jerked his head repeatedly at Ron's goal hoops. With Draco hovering above him, Harry could only assume he'd caught the same motion, and as Harry flew towards his own goals, Draco overshot him. Harry let him take the lead as they approached the heavy goal hoops. When Draco fluttered around the back of them, Harry clipped the back of his broom, sending him spinning into a post. Too gentle - Draco brushed himself off and glared back at him.
Harry swore and checked the action again. Fred was still jerking his head frantically, but this time he was gesturing at the Slytherin goals.
Draco snorted. "I'm not falling for-" Harry shot off like a bolt, head down, body pressed to the broom. The field passed like a blur, his eyes strained. Fred wouldn't have gestured for no reason but where was - there it was! Right behind the oblivious keeper Bletchley.
"And Potter has spotted the snitch! Malfoy is catching up but he's too far behind."
A Bludger brushed his ankle as one of the Slytherin beaters missed, but Harry had to do a full spin to dodge the next one. He was still ahead - Malfoy was too slow.
The snitch was behind Bletchley's head, hovering over him, like Fred and George mocking a heedless Ron in all of the Weasley family photos.
Harry tunneled toward him. He could feel Malfoy's breath on his back, the Slytherin using Harry to block the wind.
"Malfoy is catching on Potter - Potter's towing him!" Lee yelled excitedly.
Slipstreaming - a smart tactic. Malfoy would be able to pass him any second now to catch the snitch. But Malfoy couldn't see where he was flying, reliant on Harry completely.
Harry smirked as he saw the widening comprehension in Bletchley's eyes, just as he pulled up into a sharp stop.
Malfoy had no such luck, smashing straight into his teammate. With Malfoy's speed, they had no chance - they both barrelled off their brooms, falling to the ground hundreds of feet below. Harry barely heard Dumbledore's spell to save them as he closed his fingers around the snitch, with no challenge left for him, save the danger of laughing too hard.
"And Potter wins it! Potter led him straight into his own teammate, and Captain Flint's not gonna be happy with Malfoy after that one! Gryffindor win by over 300 points! That's gonna make the Quidditch Cup difficult for Slytherin." Lee shouted with glee.
As soon as Harry's feet touched the ground.
"Harry!" Fred and George were the first to reach him, bundling him, knuckles rubbing his head.
"Get off, guys!"
"That was so killer, that's some Victor Krum no-mercy skills!" Fred pounded his back.
The girls were next, with hugs and more back-pounding. "That's what I'm talking about!" Angelina barked, incomprehensibly.
"Best you've ever played, Harry." Katie smiled up at him. Harry couldn't help himself, looking at her wide eyes. He gave her pert bum a little squeeze as they hugged. She squeaked in surprise and then giggled. "Growing up fast, Potter." She murmured into his chest.
Ron grabbed in a bear hug, breaking the moment. "Did you see that? Did you see that?!" He thumped him.
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "I saw it, I saw it. Nice saves, Ron."
Ron snorted, embarrassed. "I didn't do shit. But you were doing pro-league Seeker play there."
"Eh, it was just Malfoy." Harry said, and they cracked up, watching the arrogant blonde be yelled at by a fuming Flint.
"Party tonight?" Fred punched him in the arm.
Katie met his eyes again and raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Party tonight." Harry confirmed.
He couldn't wait.
***
"My Lord." Her sultry voice.
Harry grinned wolfishly. He'd felt her, through the bond, watching the match, watching him dismantle and humiliate her own son. He'd waited in the locker room, as the others left, purposely taking his shower last. He turned to evaluate her and she did not disappoint.
Narcissa was every inch the pure-blood trophy, her glossy platinum blonde hair, styled in waves that stretched down to her breasts. Her emerald-green woolen top was tied around her neck but cut open in a diamond shape to showcase her creamy cleavage, the envy of all the other socialites, her black skirt falling to her ankles, the smallest of cuts showcasing a little leg. Just a little, of course, Harry smiled, because purebloods knew they should emphasize their breasts or their legs, but never both. And she'd worn green, his green, just for him.
Her eyes glimmered with amusement as he regarded her, because they both knew she'd dressed for his eyes to undress her, even as she raised an arched eyebrow at his blatant lust.
"Your gaze is entirely inappropriate upon a lady, Lord Potter." Her voice, delicate but strong. Teasing but forthright. How he longed to claim her.
"I shall be sure to drop it, should I see one, Malfoy." He stalked forward.
Her mouth, open in faux-shock, with that classic red lipstick that he asked her to wear. The lipstick made her look like a film star of years old, the same red shade she used a ruler to measure how far she could deepthroat him.
Harry abandoned all pretense, pulling her into him by her ass, devouring her hungrily. She tilted her head up, eagerly meeting his lips, exposing her long throat, inviting him to descend.
"I missed you." Narcissa admitted, looking up at him through her eyelashes, ever the seductress. Her voice was throaty. "My bed was so cold." She shivered theatrically.
He held her as her arms slid around him, her thighs stepping between his legs. A lover's embrace. Harry was not used to such a thing, nor was Tom. It was...nice.
Her breath hot in his ear, her laughter tinkled when she tugged on his ear with her teeth and received a swat to her bottom for her mischief.
His heart swelled, as she brushed a curl from his forehead. For a moment, he wanted to declare her his everything, felt himself wanting to whisper sweet nothings, drown her in roses and chocolates and love letters. But though she was special, though she was first, there would be one hundred more of her, one hundred more love bonds, in order for him to match the Dark Lord's power. He couldn't lose himself.
Narcissa saw the turmoil in his eyes and kissed him on the nose. "Wake up, my Lord. I have a gift for you, back at the Manor."
"A gift?" His voice was gravelly, unsteady.
"A gift." She teased. "And it's not me."
"It's not?"
"I mean, I'd hope you'll unwrap me too…" She trailed off, her hand absently resting on his cock, stroking it gently through his robes.
"What's the gift?"
She pouted. "You're no fun. Lucius has returned -- he wanted to see Draco play. Unfortunately, I...detained him back at the Manor."
A slow smile spread on his face. Lucius Malfoy -- the Dark Lord's right hand. The man who set a basilisk upon Hogwarts and almost killed many a Hogwarts student. The image of Hermione, petrified on her bed, shook him once more. Lucius had almost robbed him of his Hermione. It could not be forgiven.
Harry squeezed Narcissa's backside roughly as he kissed her roughly, enjoying her moans. "That is a gift."
"And when you're done, I'll ride you until you fill me."
Harry's eyes widened. Narcissa had been an eager learner, coming out of her shell at his touch, but he still took the lead in all of their encounters, usually thrusting into her on top, her legs wrapped around his back to ensure he shot all of his copious load deep within her.
"You will?"
Her grip on his cock tightened and she smiled broadly, delighted with his hunger. "I will. I have a new outfit to show you and I've been practicing for you."
"Then it's a date."
She withdrew suddenly, leaving him aching for her. Her smile was beautiful. "Tonight, then?"
"Tonight."
And then she was gone, so he was left with a throbbing erection and a smile. His Narcissa. He'd take pleasure in her tonight. But first, he had a match to celebrate.
Coming out of the locker room, he frowned when he saw the door wasn't locked. He'd definitely locked it, and Narcissa had left by going back into Hogwarts, rather than coming out of the locker room onto the Quidditch pitches, like he was. Did that mean somebody had seen them?
Whoever it was would probably have been a Quidditch player, since only a player would have been on the pitch to use that entrance. Maybe they'd gone to put their broom into their broom shed, heard some noises, sought to investigate? A potential problem, but not one he could do something about.
***
Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, the party was in full swing, Fred and George handing out Firewhiskey and Butterbeer in equal measure. Angelina and Alicia were already pretty tipsy, dancing on the table to the tell-tale sounds of the Weird Sisters. Ron was chatting up Lavender, who looked impressed. Hermione was trying to warn people off eating from the plate of Fred and George's dodgy Cauldron Cakes.
Katie bounced her leg nervously as she waited for Harry. Something was going to happen tonight, she could feel it in her core. The adrenaline rush of victory was still heavy in the air, and with the clink of bottles and roar of laughter, the night was rich with promise. She'd been up to her bedroom and changed her boring white knickers into some cheeky red panties. Just in case. From across the room, Alicia gave her a wink and a knowing smile as the Common Room painting swung open and Harry stepped in.
"Harry! I saved you a spot." Katie patted the seat next to her on the sofa, hoping she didn't sound too eager.
Harry collapsed into it, taking her offered Butterbeer and gulping it down.
"You're a sweetheart." He answered. Katie ducked her head, cursing her red face. Could she do this? She wasn't sure she was ready to lose her virginity, but she really wanted to explore, to know just what it was that Angelina and Alicia went on about all the time. And Harry was the perfect one to do it with. He'd always been cute, with that messy hair and that determined hero thing he had going on, but this year he'd become sexy. He was what all the girls were talking about. Where did those sharp cheekbones come from? Had his eyes got even more green? And they were sparkling now? And he was so much bigger than he'd been last year.
She'd heard the gossip. The purebloods talking about marriage contracts and betrothals and Morgana's maidenhoods and doing things the proper way. But Katie was no pureblood and her family didn't buy into any of the old traditions - she could beat all those prim purebloods by being the only girl willing to get fucked. At least she thought she was willing, she thought nervously, as she felt his magic, his heat, right next to her. When had he become so imposing? For Merlin's sake, he was a year younger than year.
Katie gulped, pressing against him as she leaned in, her skirt inching up, watching his eyes go to the smooth skin between her skirt and her stocking-clad thighs. She smiled. She was a Gryffindor girl after all, and Gryffindor girls knew how to tease.
"Crazy game today, huh? You were playing like a pro out there."
"You weren't too bad, yourself." Harry said with a crooked grin.
Katie shook her head. "Got the basics done."
"Don't put yourself down - I saw you. Five shots, five goals."
She straightened her back, pushing out her tits, smiling broadly. "Hope it was enough. Ginny says there was a Puddlemere scout in the crowd."
Ginny turned around at hearing her name, nestled in a comfy armchair, nursing a glass of something that looked strong as she looked on at Fred and George's antics. Perks of being a Weasley twin's sister - access to all sorts of contraband.
"It's true. Lee saw him, right Lee?"
Lee nodded sagely. "I wouldn't have known who he was but McGonagall said hi to him. Used to be in her class, back in the day."
"What, the sixteenth century?" Harry cracked.
Katie swatted his arm. "She's not that old." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny frown at her. Katie stared back at her until Ginny looked away. Fuck off, little girl. You're just a fourth year.
For the rest of the party, her and Harry stayed canoodled on the sofa, as Katie imbibed more and more booze, laughing a little more freely, too loudly, as she lost herself in her laughter and the unbelievable warmth of his magic. He was too powerful -- it was like being wrapped in a blanket. She felt so safe.
Harry didn't drink much, but he was definitely interested. He didn't look away, his intense eyes focused on her, asking her lots of questions. About her magic (good), her performance in class (great - Puddlemere required decent NEWTS to join), her family's magic spells (barely any), and her family's properties (only one, but it was prime Diagon Alley).
His questions seemed a little odd to her, but his gaze dipped down to her loosely buttoned blouse now and then, a hot flush starting in her toes and rising. The Potter family owned tons of land and shops, so she didn't know why he was so interested in their silly little souvenir shop for tourists, even if it got a ton of foot traffic from being right next to Gringotts. None of that mattered though, her feet playing footsy with his, accidentally touching, his arm behind her, her head leaning on it, his hand casually trailed on her shoulder. Ginny and Hermione kept glaring.
As the night came on and the fireplace started to die, the blankets started coming out, the cold of the castle beginning to encroach. To her delight, Harry grabbed the rare mega-blanket, enough to cover three people -- it was usually snagged by the seventh-years, but nobody was going to deny Harry Potter what he wanted.
Katie giggled as Harry threw it around them, instantly snuggling into him as they were covered from neck to toe by the red wool. Harry got whatever he wanted, the thought sending a sudden, unexpected thrill through her. If he wanted good grades, he got them. If he wanted the TriWizard Cup or the Quidditch Cup, he got it. Fame, riches, power, he had it all. And if he wanted her, then, well, who was she to stop him?
"So, are you all set on being a Quidditch star?"
His hand was immediately high on her thigh, caressing. Even covered as they were, she was shocked at his boldness. His green eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked at him, stunned.
"It's not as easy as that." Ginny chimed in, her nose up. "Scouts go to thousands of games, but only four or five players get contracts each year."
His hand and those long fingers, stretched a little higher, stroking softly. She cuddled closer to him, enjoying Ginny's hot look of rage.
"That's true." Harry nodded. "There's only thirteen teams, and so that's what? Thirty nine chaser spots."
"There's the reserve teams, too!" Katie squeaked suddenly as Harry's wandering hands rose further, his fingers trailed over her panties. To her shame, and her arousal, she suddenly felt a short, sharp surge of liquid discharge as he rubbed a finger up and down her lips, over her panties. She'd creamed herself at just a single touch of his. And he was going to go further. He was doing it. He was really doing it. She stared at him and he wasn't even looking at her, a small smile on his face.
"They don't get paid half as much." Ginny argued.
"But they have a good chance of getting on the first team, with all the injuries and suspensions."
"Seventy eight spots!" Katie cried out. Harry's hand slid inside her panties, finding her wet and wanting. Katie felt like she was seeing spots, his confident fingers roaming around her sopping slit, but never entering.
Ginny gave her an odd look.
"I'm not saying you can't make it. I hope you do." Ginny said grudgingly. "It's just, you need to come up with a backup plan too."
"Yes, yes, yes." Katie nodded as Harry's finger teased her clit, doing that rotating motion she did with her own fingers, late at night, biting her lip, lost in her fantasies. How did he know? Who'd taught him to touch a woman?
"But I guess you could work at your family's shop." Ginny wondered out loud.
Would that ginger bitch ever shut the fuck up, Katie thought, lost in her own world. She giggled suddenly as she felt Harry spread her labia, fingers curling through her lips. She'd always been a bit embarrassed by her 'outie' pussy - Angie's 'innie' looked so much more cute and clean, while her lips were so out there, so brazen. But in Harry's hands, she felt like a woman. And suddenly she was no longer in Harry's hands, but Harry's hands were in her, a finger sliding inside her. "Or maybe I could get a sugar daddy." Katie smirked at Ginny with great satisfaction as Harry went further. She could feel her pussy sopping through as Harry's palm somehow rubbed her clit as he fingered her. So deep! She thought with amazement.
Katie rose up on her hips, allowing Harry to go all the way in, and she rested her head on his shoulder as he slotted a second finger inside her. Ginny was nattering away about some nonsense, but if Katie listened closely, she could hear the schlopping sound of her pussy being worked away.
Harry curved his fingers inside her and she couldn't help but moan.
"What's wrong?" Ginny frowned.
"Oh, nothing. Quidditch aches, you know how it is." Kate said.
"No, I don't." Ginny said shortly. "I'm not on the team."
Sensing trouble, Harry piped up. "Ginny knows all about Quidditch though, I've seen her at the Burrow. I bet you'll be on the team next year."
Ginny blushed. "I'm not that good."
"Sure you are! You've got the right build for it."
Katie exploded. "Yes!" The sensations were too much for her, as she tried to hold back her moans, squirming around his curving fingers, hips arching up.
"Oh, thanks Harry. You too Katie." Ginny said with surprise, no longer looking at her with such venom. In her haze, Katie could see Hermione looking at them suspiciously, a frown on her face. Across the common room, Angelina sat on Fred's lap, a huge grin on her face. As their eyes met, Angie winked, and Katie flushed red, the knowledge that her best friend was watching her get fingerfucked, and they both knew it, making her incredibly hot.
Katie closed her eyes as she felt herself soak his hand completely, humiliated but horny. She'd always been a squirter, but to do it on him. To her relief, he whispered in her ear. "That's so hot, sweetheart. Keep calm, though. We don't want to give the game away."
She nodded, somehow managing to murmur assent to Ginny's unheard question, and she settled for looking up at Harry from his shoulder, admiring how he could fingerfuck her with such ease, with his left hand, all while carrying on a conversation. This boy was serious trouble.
Her insides were being rubbed by his rubbing, curving fingers, the palm of his hand grinding against my clit, until the sensations were too much, and she couldn't help but grab at his hand with both of hers. She spread her legs as far as she could, but she could only hold onto his hand as he plunged his fingers into her gushing pussy.
"Are you worried about the Ravenclaw game, Harry? Cho was really good in her game against Hufflepuff, as much as I hate to admit it." Ginny asked.
"No, actually, Katie spotted something about her play that I think I can exploit. She's been coming up with a plan."
"Really?!" Ginny said, surprised.
Katie arched forward, groaning. "Yes, coming! I've been coming!" Harry bent his fingers, used his thumb on her clit, and then, to her sudden shock, added a third finger. She came on his fingers, toes curling, the orgasm bubbling up through, so intense she couldn't sit still, grabbing on to Harry's arm tightly. She bit her lip to stifle any more noises, to avoid attracting any more attention than she already had. When the orgasm passed, Katie rested back against the sofa, smiling widely, moving away the bangs that were sticking to her sweaty forehead. She grinned at Ginny, the cat that got the canary.
"I came up with a plan because I spotted one of Cho's flying patterns, and, well, I've just been awful happy about it. Harry's going to destroy her." Katie said, a lame excuse, but Ginny seemed to swallow it.
Across the common room, she met Hermione's watery eyes, before the girl suddenly burst into tears and ran up to the girls' dorms. Thankfully, Ginny didn't notice as one of the older-years stumbled over a Foot-trap Firework that Fred had deliberately let off, the Common Room erupting in a bang.
Pink smoke filled the Common Room, oddly strawberry scented, but Katie only had eyes for Harry, who'd taken advantage of the distraction to remove his hands from the blanket. His fingers were dewy, strands of her creamy cum stretching from finger to finger. He put it into his mouth and sucked them quickly.
"Harry!" She admonished, but she was laughing.
"Loved making you cum, sweetheart. You taste delicious." Harry's voice was deep, hot in her ear, and Katie couldn't help but rub her thighs together.
"But...Hermione?" Katie couldn't help but ask.
"I'll take care of it. Can we do this again sometime?"
Katie nodded, suddenly shy. He kissed her on the cheek and then he was gone, leaving her with a stupid grin and an irresistable urge to squeal. She'd just got fingerfucked by Harry Potter and she couldn't deny...she'd loved it.