"It's a mess! A mess I tell you!"
"Hello," Harry said.
Narcissa Malfoy appeared in the doorway of his dining room as he ate a late brunch by himself. He'd heard the sound of Floo Flames from the next room over, and now here Narcissa was. She marched over, throwing down a bundle of mail from under her arm onto the table. She stood in front of him huffing, wearing a black dress and long sheer stockings that a woman her age shouldn't have been able to pull off so well.
"It's ridiculous," she said.
"May I ask what?" Harry asked, pushing away the dish he'd been eating off of.
"The Ministry was already operating like a wreck!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Did I tell you that they sent you the wrong date for the funeral? If I hadn't noticed the discrepancy with mine while managing your mail, you would've showed up a day and a half early! They were already barely passable at their job. I don't even want to think what it will be like now."
She pulled out a chair and sat heavily, throwing herself down with enough force to make her bust bounce. It was a testament to how long she had known Harry that she was willing to act this way in front of him at all.
"Is this about Master's proclamation yesterday?" Harry asked.
"Not directly," Narcissa admitted. "Testing loyalty is all well and good. I mean, just look at… Severus. But all they've done is convene Wizengamaot for a full day session! Even worse, he sent my sister as his representative."
Narcissa shivered. When Harry didn't offer a suitably sympathetic reaction, Narcissa reached out, grabbing his hand.
"I listened in on them," she said. "Bella accuses anyone that disagrees with her of being a Blood Traitor. Then she goes and proposes ridiculous laws, like legalizing one-sided duels in the street… as if she doesn't just want to get away with cursing even more wizards… By Merlin, it's all ridiculous. I couldn't even enjoy tea today at all. The rest of the High Society Ladies of Best Blood were too busy trying to start witch hunts to get any good gossiping in!"
"What is a witch hunt except gossiping with a purpose," said Harry sagely.
For some reason, Narcissa's eyes sharpened at this.
"What do you think of it all?" she asked. "Are these loyalty tests even necessary?"
"We haven't seen what form they'll take," Harry said. "I can hardly form an opinion already."
"Oh, just in general! Do you think Voldemort is onto a real problem, or is he making a mistake?"
Harry's face grew cold in an instant. Instead of backing off, Narcissa leaned in excitedly.
"I won't tell," she whispered. "I just want to know. If anyone would be willing to form their own opinion, it would be you…"
Harry stood up, yanking Narcissa up with him by the hands.
"Witch hunts can be dangerous," he said. "Openly disagreeing with our master is a death sentence. Remember that, and don't speak anymore of such things, even here!"
Narcissa opened her mouth, but they never discovered what she planned to say. She squealed as she was pushed back onto the dining room table, her feet coming up into the air.
"You interrupted my meal showing up here," Harry said. "It's only right that you provide a new one."
Narcissa was still dressed as she had been for tea. She had probably come straight to his home after her disappointing socialite get-together. That meant the black dress Harry had noted earlier cut to end part way down her thighs, paired with a floppy black hat and long, sheer white stockings. She had high heels on, which Harry wrenched off of her now, discarding them over his shoulder.
He grabbed her stockings with one hand on each leg and pulled. It took a bit of precision not to rip them with his strength, but Harry thought the effects were more than worth it. The wool peeled away slowly, slipping off of Narcissa's smooth legs with a hissing sound. Before he had laid a single finger on her, Narcissa moaned out of anticipation.
Her dress had ridden up when he pushed her back, allowing Harry to reach under it easily, wrapping his fingers around her panties. In typical fashion for Narcissa's visits, what he discovered was little more than a thong.
"What would those ladies have said if they knew that the whole time you were sipping tea across from them, you were wearing this dirty thing beneath your dress?"
Narcissa shuddered, her breath already growing ragged. "They would've cooed at Lucius and I's sex lives… The whole time believing I'm cheating."
"Knowing, you are cheating," Harry corrected her. "It isn't Lucius doing this."
He buried his head up the bottom of her dress.
The smell of her perfume was overwhelming in the dark beneath the fabric. Narcissa was not the type to skip any charm or expense when it came to personal upkeep. Especially when she knew she was going to be visiting Harry. She shook and groaned as she felt her dress bulge up around his head. Harry's hands latched onto her hips, pulling her closer as he mashed her slit onto his mouth.
His tongue plunged directly into the moist expanse on offer. Narcissa's flaps opened easily as he explored her, digging deep to begin with before circling back to her clit. Once there, he began moving with a purpose.
Though prone to being overlooked, the tongue is still a powerful muscle. Harry was the recipient of a ritual that strengthened his muscles to an unhealthy degree. Those two things gave him access to certain tricks that were particularly difficult to come by.
Harry besieged Narcissa's clit from all sides. But he started off gently, exerting no more force than the typical tongue. Even just with this, he sensed the woman stiffen. Her back arched off of the table, while her shoulder blades pressed down so tightly that they rattled the surrounding silverware. The rattling disappeared a moment later as his House Elf remotely cleared anything breakable from the table, but Narcissa's reactions grew no less extreme.
Every time she had a chance to grow accustomed to the stimulation, Harry upped the ante. His tongue always had another level of force it could exert, until it reached the point he was practically bludgeoning Narcissa's nerves. The natural give to his tongue prevented the feeling from crossing over into discomfort, but the fierceness of his cunnilingus soon had Narcissa's whole body shaking.
Her long, thin fingers dug deep into his hair, holding onto it for dear life as she thrashed. Harry kept her hips locked in place with his hands while he worked, but the rest of Narcissa couldn't stop moving, even her legs, which were sliding up and down Harry's back in any direction they could reach.
When she had been set over the edge, Harry could sense it. Her grip on his hair loosened, and he broke free of her legs to stand. Narcissa's legs slid onto the table while her back arched to new extremes. When her body was in the shape of a crescent, clear fluid exploded out of her exposed pussy, raining down on the floor beside Harry. Watching the puddle spread across the floor, Harry shed his own clothes.
Narcissa's face was flushed, while her floppy hat had come loose to cover the top left quarter of her face, but she had not been robbed of her voice.
"Did I strike a nerve?" she asked.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said.
"You hardly ever do that for me. If I knew it was as easy as asking if you disagreed with Voldemort—"
The table groaned loudly as Harry crawled onto it, joining her. But it was made from good wood, and it held strong.
Harry shoved his cock inside Narcissa's sopping slit, lifting her legs with a hand around each ankle.
"I warned you!" he said. "Do I have to warn you again? If anyone else hears that kind of talk—"
"What'll you do? Eat me out again? I'm terrified."
"Don't interrupt me!"
Harry landed a thrust far more brutal than his usual fair. The clap of their bodies resounded through the multi-floor manor as Narcissa was driven inches back, her hat flying off the table and her eyes bulging.
"You will get me killed. You will get yourself killed. And Master will likely send Draco to join us, just for good measure!"
"And Lucius?" Narcissa gasped out beneath him.
"Him as well," Harry said.
He pulled her ankles in opposite directions, stretching her legs in a V-shape while he plowed her pussy head-on. Perhaps he was imagining things, but he could've sworn the more he made her legs stretch, the tighter her insides became.
His hips sped up to a superhuman rate, as they always seemed to when Narcissa was in his bed. Or on his table, or his floor, or… They really did sleep everywhere, he realized. Anywhere with enough space for him to drive her body to the verge of its breaking point.
As Narcissa hurled her head back, screaming out her incoherent pleasure, Harry heard someone stop at the doorway. When he looked back, Fleur Delacour was watching them impassively.
"That is unsanitary," she said.
"You're certainly calm about this," Harry said, continuing to fuck Narcissa into a quivering mess.
"Please," Fleur said derisively. "I am part-veela. Do you think I would grow squeamish in front of a bit of sex?"
Harry released Narcissa's ankles, letting them flop wildly under his thrusts as he reached down, busting Narcissa's dress at the chest and freeing her braless breasts.
"If you're that unphased, you shouldn't mind eating atop our leftovers," he said.
"I'm objecting for Susan's benefit," Fleur told him.
She stood and watched him fuck for a few more seconds, her eyes dancing almost critically over his technique, like an instructor searching for defects in a pupil's form. Then she ambled away as casually as she arrived.
Harry shifted his weight back, shimmying off the table. He grabbed Narcissa by the ankle, pulling her off after him. She landed on her feet, just about, as she stumbled forward. Harry moved with her, shut the door to the room, and pinned Narcissa against it.
"Who was that?" she demanded.
She did an impressive job sounding imperious, considering her less-than-reputable position.
"A slave," Harry said.
"A slave you talk casually to? One you listen to without question?"
Narcissa's interrogation was put on pause as Harry grabbed her dress, tearing it down the back and tossing away the scraps. He jammed two finger tips directly up Narcissa's asshole, applying a wandless lubrication charm. It was not the first time in his life he used that particular spell.
Narcissa stiffened at the cold sensation of the charm, then cried out as Harry's cock entered her lesser-used hole, forcing its way inside in a single savage thrust.
"I will fuck you where I wish, how I wish," Harry growled. "The suggestions of a single slave do not play any role, even if you're determined to seek out connections."
It was hardly a fair debate. Narcissa was in no state to speak to him now. Harry pressed his chest against her much smaller back, pinning her littler frame between him and the wood. His fingers interlocked with hers, sliding her hands up the wall. As he leaned his weight forward, her feet left the ground, dangling while the door thumped against its hinges.
Harry refused to stop now. Narcissa's second hole was impossibly tight, almost twice as cramped as her pussy. It took half his focus just to force his way inside without hurting her. The other half of his focus was busy keeping him from cumming after each thrust.
Narcissa had no problem orgasming. With her pussy wide open, she sprayed three separate batches of arousal against the door. Dark stains slid down the wood, dripping off onto the floor and dribbling under the crack, out into the hallway. The door rattled ferociously as Harry forced Narcissa into it with every thrust. His breath came in short, hot, and sticky gasps, each breathed across the clammy skin on the back of Narcissa's neck.
His exhaustion first showed in his breathing. Each gasp became even shorter, turning into a pant. He gritted his teeth and forged on, determined to break Narcissa before he even thought about stopping. Narcissa came a fourth time. Her hair had been done in an intricate braid for her tea time, but that was coming undone now, blond locks escaping to hang in uncharacteristically dark strands.
Growling his own pleasure, Harry finally came. Perhaps the urgency he fucked her with to keep her from talking had been something of a turn-on for him. Or maybe it was that unlike usual, he had been the one servicing her during foreplay, reversing the usual roles. Either way, this was his first orgasm of the day, and it was one of the longest he could remember.
His balls tightened slowly, squeezing out every last drop of semen they had prepared. He filled Narcissa's asshole to the brim, but that wasn't saying much considering how tight the hole had been from the start. More impressive was that after he stumbled back, when Narcissa fell to the floor without his body propping her up, Harry was still cumming, lathering at least eight stringy wads across her face, hair, neck, and breasts.
Narcissa gasped to get her breath back, while Harry dropped down, sitting heavily and resting his forearms on his knees.
"You have so much fire in you," Narcissa said lovingly, still looking up at the ceiling.
Harry glanced at her. "I don't hear that often," he admitted.
"Because most people don't know you like I do, Harry. Nobody knows you as well as I do. That's why I'll always support you. I know that you're worth it."
"I support Voldemort," Harry said, beginning to grow uncomfortable again, although he kept his voice level. "We all do."
Narcissa tilted her head up, staring unblinkingly at him with his cum still spread haphazardly across her face.
"Even if you didn't, even if you followed no one but yourself, I would still support you!" she said eagerly.
"But I don't," he reminded her firmly.
Narcissa continued to look at him before slowly laying her head back down. A moment later she stood, finding her wand where it had fallen on the floor and starting to fix her appearance, vanishing his semen and repairing her dress.
"I should be going," she said. "Lucius will be busy with this Wizengamot business. Someone will need to manage the manor."
Harry watched her re-dress, even going as far as to fix the braids that had come undone. That brief moment of fervor from her had passed. Yet now that it was gone, Narcissa didn't seem back to normal, though it did seem like she wanted it to appear that way.
If he had to put a word to it… Harry would say she almost seemed melancholic.
When she got to the door they'd had their fun against, she hesitated before opening it.
"I mean it Harry," she murmured. "Whatever you need. Whatever the situation."
He nodded. Because even if it scared him, such a sentiment deserved to be acknowledged. Narcissa left immediately after, stepping out of the room and into the hall. He heard her voice call out "Malfoy Manor!" in the next room over, and the whoosh of the Floo Network activating.
By the time he looked around the room, his elf had already managed to clear any signs of his and Narcissa's activities. Fresh, laundered robes were folded beside him, while no stains were visible. He cleaned his body with a charm, getting dressed again.
Yet the entire time, his mind kept wandering back to Narcissa. He questioned things he'd long been content to ignore, including why she established this mutually-beneficial relationship of theirs in the first place.
Perhaps he was off with this thought… Perhaps he was reading too much into it…
But when Narcissa had spoken to him of 'support,' he saw a look that he had seen before on a different, darker-haired daughter of the Black family— and only when said daughter was staring at their Master, at that.
Harry sighed, looking to the ceiling. He meandered back to the table, sliding out a chair and dropping into it.
These were interesting times they had entered, and not even he knew what to make of them. There was only one thing he was certain of.
Whatever came next, it was only going to get more extreme from here.