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July 2023 Exclusive Poll Winner - Trying To Be Better - Harry/Daphne
🕑 Added 2023-07-15 16:00:00 +0000 UTC“This isn’t that bad,” Tracey Davis shrugged as she plopped down onto the small leather couch beside the fireplace in the small, private living room inside Hogwarts. “I mean, it’s better than having to share a common room with hundreds of other people.”
Daphne Greengrass glowered at her best friend from the chair across from her. “At least none of them are Potter.” She spat the man’s name like a curse. “I’m sick of him and his godfather hanging around my manor during our breaks—”
“Your family’s manor,” Tracey corrected her. “And it’ll be Harry’s manor one day too.”
“Like hell it will be,” Daphne snapped, mentally cursing her damned family honour that had gotten her into this mess. “And call him Potter.”
“Unlike you, I’m actually friends with him,” Tracey shrugged.
Daphne groaned and buried her face into her hands. “Please don’t remind me,” her muffled voice asked. She was so sick of hearing how great Potter was or how friendly and nice he could be. To her, he was the worst of the worst at Hogwarts. She’d honestly prefer to spend her days listening to Malfoy ramble on about his father than be in Potter’s presence for longer than she needed to be.
Tracey shot Daphne a sympathetic look. “You could’ve done a lot worse than Har—I mean Potter. He’s a decent bloke, and he won’t mistreat you—something that can’t be said for most of the guys in our year. You’re going to have to figure out a way to spend time around him anyways. You’re both eighteen now, so you can bet that your wedding’s going to happen this summer.”
“I got it pushed to the fall,” Daphne sighed angrily. It had taken weeks of begging and pleading on her part to get her parents to make a formal proposal to Lord Black to change the time of the wedding in the marriage contract that they’d signed all those years ago at the end of Daphne’s second year at Hogwarts. Getting married to Potter was still a terrible prospect, but at least she’d have a bit more freedom before she was sentenced to live out the rest of her days as a miserable woman.
“The leaves will be pretty then,” Tracey smiled comfortingly, but it did nothing to lighten Daphne’s mood.
“Maybe,” Daphne mumbled in reply. She kicked up her feet onto the small coffee table in front of her and let out a loud sigh. Who was she kidding? This was going to be awful. Daphne could feel Tracey’s worried eyes on her, but she ignored them.
Tracey cleared her throat and only began speaking once she was sure that Daphne’s attention was on her. She spoke in a quiet tone, one that barely carried above the sounds of the crackling logs in the fireplace. “You shouldn’t be punishing Potter like this. It’s not his fault that Astoria—”
“Shut it,” Daphne snapped angrily, feeling her magic rising up in her veins. Her tone was harsh, and she could see that Tracey was visibly hurt by them, but Daphne couldn’t find it in herself to care at the moment. “Don’t you dare bring her up again,” she warned Tracey.
It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, and Daphne was sure that it wouldn’t be the last. Tracey was determined to try to fix things between Daphne and Harry, but no amount of effort could undo the damage that had long since been done when he failed to bring her little sister back alive from the Chamber of Secrets.
Normally, Tracey backed down quickly, retreating from the dangerous territory into something more pleasant for both of them to discuss, but that wasn’t going to happen today. Instead, Tracey started to fume as she sat up in her seat and glared across at Daphne.
“No,” Tracey replied in a firm tone. “It’s been five years, Daph, and you need to accept the fact that Potter was just a kid.”
“So was Astoria!” Daphne retorted harshly.
“She was,” Tracey agreed. “And she didn’t deserve what happened to her, just like Harry didn’t deserve to be put in the position he was in.”
“I told you to call him Potter.”
“I can choose to call my friends whatever I want, and Harry’s my friend. He doesn’t deserve all of this bottled up resentment that you refuse to let go of!”
“Then maybe he should have saved my sister!”
They were both left huffing and puffing as Daphne’s words hung in the air. Things had been different between them ever since Astoria’s death. Even though they’d practically grown up together, Daphne had started pulling away from Tracey when her real sister was killed. She’d locked herself away from everyone, and it took a long time before her friendship with Tracey had started to mend itself. It still wasn’t quite the same as it once had been, but Daphne could honestly say that there was no one closer to her than Tracey.
That was why it was so hard to deal with the fact that Tracey and Potter were friends. It was inevitable that they’d come into contact with each other after Potter starting living at Greengrass Manor after second year; Daphne’s parents had invited Tracey around almost every day to try to help her out of the steep depression she’d been dealing with after Astoria’s death, but Daphne had refused to ever see her. With Astoria gone, Potter was the only other person around their age at Greengrass Manor, so it was natural that he and Tracey would talk when Daphne had locked herself away.
It was just another stupid thing Daphne had only herself to blame for. First, she ignored the warning signs that Astoria began to show during her first year just before everything went wrong, and then she drove away her best friend, leading Tracey to become friends with Daphne’s second-most hated person who she could think of. Well, now that Voldemort was locked away in Azkaban and effectively dead to the world after being defeated by Potter and Dumbledore, she supposed that Harry was now her most-hated person in the world.
The clock in the room struck eight, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two women.
“I should get going,” Tracey muttered to herself.
As Daphne deflated while watching Tracey collect her things, she realised that she didn’t want to fight with her best friend like this. They’d always said that they’d never let a man get between their friendship; Daphne had just never expected that it’d be a man who she hated that would cause so many problems for her.
“I’m sorry,” Daphne called out to Tracey’s retreating back. Tracey stilled by the door out of Daphne’s room, her hand frozen above the door handle. “I don’t want to fight with you, Tracey, not over something like this.”
“I don’t want to fight with you either,” Tracey replied quietly as she turned back to look at Daphne. “But I don’t want to sit around while you berate my friend for something that wasn’t his fault.”
She was right. From the very first day her anger started, Daphne knew that Harry wasn’t entirely to blame. He’d only been twelve, and he’d finished off the real bastard who’d killed her sister. That didn’t make the hurt any less though. Whenever she saw Harry, all of her bottled up emotions around Astoria’s death came to the fore. She blamed Harry for Voldemort’s actions and for her own failings to recognise that something was wrong with her own sister. She ascribed all of these painful emotions to Harry, and that wasn’t fair to him.
But putting this into words was harder than Daphne could imagine. After trying and failing several times to express herself to Tracey, she settled on a simple nod.
Tracey sighed. “Why don’t we talk more about this tomorrow? I think both of us could do with a nice rest—”
Tracey’s words trailed off as the door in front of her opened, revealing the very topic of their discussion.
“Err, sorry if I’m interrupting,” Harry said as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He was glancing between the two women, clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere in the room. “I can come back in a few minutes if you—”
“No,” Tracey interrupted him. “I was just going.” She looked back at Daphne. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Harry stepped aside and allowed Tracey to leave. Once she was past the threshold, Harry stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Then, an awkward silence filled the room.
Daphne knew that Harry knew how she felt about him. She hadn’t bothered to hide her feelings over the years he lived at her family’s manor. Despite all of the abuse she’d thrown his way, he’d always been nothing but kind and understanding to her. It used to just make her angrier. Looking at him now, Daphne just felt guilty.
“So,” Harry dragged the word out. “These are the Betrothed Dorms, huh?”
Daphne forced herself to take a deep breath to prevent herself from berating Harry over his obvious statement. “Yep,” she answered after a few seconds.
Harry nodded with a slight grimace and walked over to the small couch beside the fireplace. “I guess I’ll get set up here then. You can have the bedroom.”
Daphne glanced at the couch. It was tiny, nowhere near long enough for Harry to lie down across.
Merlin, was she really about to suggest what she was thinking?
“The bed’s big enough for the both of us,” Daphne said loudly before she could stop herself from going through with this.
It was almost funny to see how stunned Harry looked at her statement. Daphne could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out if this was a trap or not. “Okay,” he replied slowly. “Are you sure you’re okay with that though?”
Was he always destined to be so compassionate? Just once, Daphne wished that Harry would lash out at her. She’d treated him terribly for years, and not once had he done so much as curse her out or spew hateful things in her direction. She still remembered the time when they were fifteen when he yelled back at her over some stupid fight she had started with him. He’d looked so guilty then, but even her parents said that she deserved to be told off like that. And then he’d gone back to his usual polite self the next day.
What would Astoria think of Daphne if she could see her now?
“It’s fine,” Daphne brushed aside his concern. “Your things are already in there anyway.”
Harry was still looking at her suspiciously, but she supposed that she deserved it.
“Look, I’m just trying to be nice, alright?” Daphne said with a little more heat than was warranted.
“Alright,” Harry replied, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll just go and get changed then.”
Daphne nodded and turned away as Harry strode over towards their shared bedroom. Given that they were both now adults, this was the first time that they’d been made to share a private dorm like this.
She waited for a few minutes, gently pacing around the small living room. She knew that things couldn’t go on like this; she couldn’t keep treating Harry like he was the cause of her sister’s death. It was a terrible accident that Astoria picked up that cursed diary in the girl’s restroom. The man behind it, Voldemort, was truly dead now, and Harry had been the one to put a stop to him. If anything, Daphne should be grateful like the rest of her family was that Harry had finally brought justice to that cruel man, but justice didn’t make the void of Astoria’s absence any smaller.
But she shouldn’t ascribe that pain to Harry. It wasn’t fair, especially since he was the only one trying to put a stop to the evil of the world.
It was just hard to disassociate that pain from him. She only had bad memories tied to Harry; maybe she needed some happier ones instead.
The door to the bedroom cracked open and Harry was standing there in his set of emerald-green pyjamas that her parents had gotten him for his birthday this summer. He looked a little nervous, but more than anything, Daphne could see the hope in his eyes. Hope that maybe things would start to get better between them.
“The room’s free if you wanna get changed,” Harry said quietly as he awkwardly stepped out of the bedroom.
For a split second, that old, familiar anger bubbled up inside of Daphne as she saw his body language. All of the courage and desire for change in her behaviour vanished in an instant. This was the man who had killed Voldemort! He shouldn’t be timid around her. Maybe if he wasn’t like this, Astoria would have—
The only thing that would stop that train of thought was Daphne moving her legs. She strode past Harry into the bedroom, not so much as acknowledging his words or presence, leaving him looking more than a little confused at her sudden cold shoulder she was showing him after trying to be civil. She closed the door behind her forcefully, took a deep breath, and counted to ten before she made for her trunk.
Was it always going to be this difficult to not blame Harry for things he ultimately wasn’t responsible for? Well, Daphne supposed that she did have several years of association to get rid of. Maybe their impending marriage would help things along.
Daphne slipped out of her uniform and into some more comfortable clothes. The blue negligee she put on was relatively conservative as it went down to her knees and the straps over her shoulder were a bit wider than normal, but it was still a fairly flattering piece. Then, she tied up her hair into a loose ponytail and opened the door back open.
“Come on in,” she invited Harry softly.
Harry’s movements were stiff and jerky as he re-entered the bedroom. He stilled by the foot of the bed. “Where should I . . . ?”
“What side do you like to sleep on?” She asked him.
After a moment’s hesitation, he answered. “The right.”
That was her favourite side. Daphne bit her cheek to stop herself from sighing at him and instead just gestured for him to head on over there. As he did, she made her way to the left side and lifted the duvet before sliding into bed. It was surprisingly comfortable—almost as good as her bed back home—and the pillows were soft without being too soft.
The bed rattled a bit as Harry climbed in beside her. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that the two of them could sleep side-by-side with a reasonable gap in between them.
Once they were both settled, the candles magically turned themselves off, plunging the room into darkness save for the thin stream of moonlight coming in from the two windows that flanked either side of the bed.
Harry was quiet as he lay beside her, but Daphne knew that he wasn’t asleep. The minutes ticked by in silence without either of them doing or saying anything. While it was clear to Daphne that Harry was struggling with the awkwardness of the situation, she was struggling with what she was trying to muster up the courage to do.
If all she had in her head when she looked at Harry was bad memories, maybe it was time to form some good ones.
“Harry?” She whispered quietly.
“Yeah?” He responded almost immediately.
“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I’ve been an awful person, and I want to be better going forward.”
After several seconds passed without a response, Daphne chanced a peek at Harry out of the corner of her eyes. She hadn’t even noticed him shift, but now he was on his side, facing her. Once again, he surprised her. The look on his face wasn’t one of anger over her years of mistreatment or happiness at her resolution. The look on his face was one of sadness.
“I’m so sorry, Daphne,” Harry murmured.
“For what?” Daphne asked in reply before she could take a moment to interpret what he meant herself.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t save—”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Potter,” Daphne interrupted firmly.
Harry cracked a small smile at the awkward tension. “We’re back to Potter now?”
Daphne ignored him; this was too important a point to joke over. “I know that I’ve blamed you for a long time about her, but it was not your fault. It was Voldemort, and he’s dead and gone now, so I don’t have anyone left to blame for it. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still feel horrible about it, and I think I’ve just pinned all of my sadness on you, and you don’t deserve that. So, let’s both try to move on from this, okay?”
“Okay,” Harry smiled lightly. “But only if you go back to calling me Harry.”
Daphne rolled her eyes and bit back a chuckle. “Really?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “It makes it seem like you hate me less when you use my first name.”
Daphne grimaced. “Sorry, Harry.”
“It’s alright,” he said, already trying to brush past this.
“No, it’s not,” Daphne insisted. “I don’t want to be the type of woman who despises her husband and blames him for everything.”
“I’d understand if you did,” Harry replied quietly. “I mean, it isn’t like your parents gave you any choice in the matter. I still remember how Sirius had to keep leaving me with Remus a lot that summer after second year so that he could work out the details of our betrothal with your parents. He was impressed with how your dad refused to give up trying to repay me for all I’d done, and I guess betrothal contracts like this weren’t too unfamiliar to Sirius given his upbringing. I just wish that you’d been given a choice in all of this.”
“So do I,” Daphne smiled sadly. “But what about you? Don’t you wish that you’d been given a choice too?”
Daphne wasn’t quite sure, but she swore that she saw Harry blush. There was a slight change to the colour of his cheeks, but the darkness of the room made it difficult to make out.
“I suppose,” he replied noncommittally.
Daphne rolled over onto her side to face him, but it only seemed to make Harry more nervous. She’d learnt from a young age how to read people’s thoughts and emotions and how they played out through body language, and she was picking up some clear signals from Harry. “Are you sure about that?” Daphne murmured, staring carefully at his expression. “We’re going to be husband and wife soon enough; we should be honest with each other.”
She had hit the mark. From his awkward squirming and the way he refused to look her in the eyes, he obviously wasn’t as opposed to the betrothal as she was. She’d never spent enough time around him to gauge his interest in her, but now it all seemed so obvious.
“You like me, don’t you?” Daphne asked rhetorically when it was clear that Harry was just stalling for time to come up with an explanation for his reaction.
There was only a moment’s hesitation before Harry nodded, and then he quickly recoiled back from her like he feared that she was about to strike him. “I just—” he stammered out, but Daphne stopped him in his tracks by placing her index finger against his lips.
“I understand,” Daphne said soothingly. She knew how physically attractive she was—she’d received far too many comments from the boys at Hogwarts to miss the fact that most of them fancied her—but she was surprised that Harry would stay attracted to her after how she treated him. Well, if that was how he felt, she wasn’t going to try to sway him otherwise.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, it became easier to look at Harry. She’d spent so many years avoiding him or only staring at him with loathsome eyes that she hadn’t really looked at him as a man.
It was very clear that he’d grown quite a bit since second year. He was taller, maybe slightly above average, and he had packed on a fair amount of muscle for a wizard. His shoulders were broader, and he had a faint bit of stubble growing on his chin that looked to be recently trimmed. His hair was still a mess, but it was at least kept short and somewhat manageable if he’d bother to use some hair-care potions. His face was quite handsome too, and Daphne knew that he was a kind and caring man.
Daphne tried to wrack her brain to think of someone she could compare him to, but no one came to mind. All of the other men in their year were either pigs or lacking in some quality or feature that made them unsuitable for Daphne. But other than her own self-induced hatred towards Harry, she couldn’t find anything lacking in him. In fact, the more she stared into his green eyes, she started to see just how beautiful he was. It started to click into place as to why many of the girls at Hogwarts had a crush on him.
Suddenly, Daphne felt a nervous bubble in her belly. For a moment, she thought it was something she’d eaten trying to force its way back up, but then her heart rate started to rise and she realised what it was: she was crushing on Harry.
Well, that would certainly make it easier to make some happy memories.
Daphne removed her finger from Harry’s lips. He opened his mouth to speak, and that was when she took her chance. Her lips crashed against his before he could get a single word out.
Almost instantly, Harry’s hands were on her shoulders and he shoved her away.
Daphne rolled onto her back, gasping for air and glowering at Harry. He looked positively terrified at her look and he was glancing down at his hands like they were traitors.
“Sorry—” Harry said at the same time Daphne spoke.
“What the hell?” Daphne exclaimed.
“I don’t know what . . . I just . . .” Harry was stuttering again, looking thoroughly unsure of himself.
“I’m trying to give us a chance here!” Daphne exclaimed loudly. “You’ve gone and killed a bloody dark lord, the least you can do is not get scared off when a girl kisses you!”
“Sorry!”
“Stop saying you’re sorry!”
“Sorry—”
“I swear, one more bloody ‘sorry’ like that and I’ll—”
Daphne’s words were cut off as Harry kissed her.
Unlike their first awkward kiss where Harry immediately shoved her away, this kiss was soft and gentle and sweet. Harry’s lips felt so nice against hers, and Daphne felt an electric spark shoot between them, which sent a pleasant tingle down her body. It ended all too soon, but Daphne was so enthralled that she didn’t care. There were going to be many more kisses if she had anything to say about it.
When Harry pulled away, his gaze was immediately on her face, searching for a sign if he had done something wrong or if she had liked the kiss just as much as he had. Daphne didn’t intend on leaving him in suspense; she pounced on him again, kissing him passionately as she flipped him onto his back and straddled his waist. Harry let out a strangled, choking sound as her crotch pressed down against his.
Daphne felt his half-hard member in his silk pyjama bottoms against her inner thigh. He was rapidly hardening beneath her and desperately trying to hide it, but Daphne refused to let him squirm out from under her.
“No,” she told him as she lifted her mouth off of his. “I want this. Don’t you?”
The look in his eyes told her the answer, but he was still being reticent. “I don’t want this to be something you’ll regret.”
“It won’t be,” Daphne promised him.
Harry bit his lip nervously in thought.
“This could be good for us,” Daphne told him convincingly. “You like me, and, well, you’re not half bad to look at yourself.”
Harry snorted. “What a ringing endorsement.”
“I’m trying,” Daphne stressed. “And kissing you was very, very good.”
That made Harry perk up. “It was?”
“Mm hmm,” Daphne nodded, smiling at his sweet response. “And I think there are a few other ways we could make each other feel good.”
“Well,” Harry chuckled awkwardly. “We are going to be married in a year.”
“Exactly,” Daphne agreed, willing to go along with this if it helped make him more comfortable. “If we’re going to be spending the rest of our lives together, we should try to make the best of it, right?”
This time, Harry nodded his head much more enthusiastically.
“Good,” Daphne smiled sultrily. “Then just lay back and relax while I try something.”
Slowly, Daphne slid beneath the covers down Harry’s body. She made sure to drag her breasts along his torso as she went—something that she was sure he’d thoroughly enjoy—and settled herself between his thighs. The duvet tented over her head, but it wasn’t heavy enough to be uncomfortable.
In the darkness, Daphne worked quickly as she grabbed the waistband of Harry’s pyjama bottoms and yanked them down. He lifted his hips to help her slide them down to his knees. His cock immediately popped upwards, striking Daphne’s chin. She giggled quietly to herself as she grabbed hold of the rowdy member and angled it towards her mouth.
Having never done this before, Daphne wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but her first impressions weren’t bad. Harry’s cock was quite warm as she pressed her lips against it. While the shaft was rigid, the head was quite spongy. It tasted much like skin did, which wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Quite frankly, Daphne figured that she could take or leave this particular activity. At least, that was what she thought until she heard the low groan that escaped Harry’s throat when she planted a lingering kiss right against the tip of his cock.
The bed vibrated as Harry’s body tensed up and his groan rattled out of him. Suddenly, a thrill shot up Daphne’s spine. Witnessing such a visceral reaction to her touch excited her, and it made her want to do more. So, she kissed him again, all over his cock.
As fun as it was to watch Harry squirm beneath her, Daphne knew that this was just the first taste of what was to come. Leaving the kisses behind, she instead opened her lips and took the head of his cock into her mouth.
“Bloody hell!” Harry cried out as his fists grabbed the duvet. He lifted it high enough so that he could see Daphne slowly devouring his cock. She didn’t so much as bother to look up as she forced Harry’s cock deeper into her mouth until she felt herself start to gag. She tried to push past it, but she couldn’t. So, she came back noisily, slurping up all of the excess saliva that was now coating Harry’s cock.
Finally, Daphne looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you really interrupting me when I’m sucking your cock?” She asked teasingly.
Harry looked like a fish out of water as his mouth struggled to form words. “I just never expected this from you.”
“Yeah, well, today’s a day of firsts,” Daphne murmured. “If I’m going to start being good to you, I’d better put my best foot forward.”
Harry shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. “This is incredible.”
Daphne grinned up at him. “Good. I wouldn’t settle for anything less if I were in your place.”
The duvet settled back on her head as she resumed sucking on Harry’s cock. Although it was her first time doing this, Daphne quickly realised that it was still quite easy to pick up on how Harry was feeling based on the little sounds and movements he made. For instance, his thighs always tensed up something fierce whenever she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, applying a fairly significant amount of pressure as she went, and his breathing would quicken whenever she bobbed her head up and down on his cock.
Try as she might, Daphne was never quite able to get Harry’s entire cock into her mouth. The best she managed was a little bit past the halfway mark, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed quite overwhelmed by what little Daphne was able to do. Still, Daphne always strove to improve her technique.
She didn’t know why she didn’t think of it sooner, but she eventually realised that she could use her hand in place of her mouth on the base of Harry’s cock. She was barely able to wrap her fingers around it, but once she did, she started stroking it in time with her mouth. It was a technique that had Harry moaning like crazy.
“Oh, fuck!” Harry moaned. His hands slipped underneath the duvet and started running through Daphne’s hair. She was grateful to herself that she had put it up into a ponytail before going to bed; if she hadn’t, it’d be much harder to suck Harry off without getting some of it into her mouth.
Daphne had no plans on stopping until Harry finished, but she was forced to when he started pulling her mouth off of his cock with his hands. Thoroughly confused as to why he wanted to stop, Daphne sat up, letting the duvet fall behind her back, and gave him a questioning look.
“Sorry,” he quickly said. “I’m just really close.”
“I think that’s the point,” Daphne replied.
“Yeah, well, I figured that you should get something out of this too, you know?” Harry blushed.
Daphne blinked in surprise. “But, I’m doing this for you.”
“But this is supposed to be for both of us, right?”
Daphne nodded slowly.
“Well, even if you like doing this, it’s not quite the same level of pleasure that I’m feeling,” Harry pointed out. “I want both of us to have a chance to feel this good, and I don’t want it to end too soon.”
“Then what do you want to do?” She asked him.
Harry sat up and got on his knees in front of her. His cock poked against her negligee and his hands found her hips. “I’d like to see you first. All of you,” he amended.
“Okay,” Daphne replied quietly. For some reason, she was feeling unusually shy about disrobing in front of Harry, but she wasn’t going to back down from this.
Harry’s hands moved slowly as they pulled her negligee up her body. She’d been wearing panties, but she didn’t have a bra on. When Daphne raised her arms and Harry started to lift the negligee up past her breasts, he stilled suddenly. After a moment of no movement and with the negligee around her head blocking her vision, Daphne huffed. “What’s taking so long?”
“Sorry,” Harry quickly said. “I just . . .”
As he trailed off, Daphne felt the warmth of his hand touch her breast. Then his other hand touched her other round orb. He was tender, just gently feeling the curve of them in his hands. Daphne shivered every time he got close to her nipples, but he never touched her there. She waited patiently, but after a minute without much progress, she tore the negligee off of her completely and moved Harry’s hands into the right places.
Almost instantly, a wave of delight ran through her body as Harry squeezed her breasts. “Mmm,” Daphne hummed in pleasure.
“That’s good?” Harry asked for confirmation.
“Very,” Daphne nodded.
His jaw was hung open slightly and his breathing was coming in fast now. “Do you want to lie down?” He asked her.
Daphne knew what he was getting at. So, she laid down on her side of the bed on her back and waited. It didn’t take long for Harry to crawl on top of her.
“I’ve never done this before,” Harry said nervously. “So, sorry if I’m rubbish.”
“Don’t be,” Daphne told him. “I’m just as new to this as you are.”
“Yeah, but you’re incredible.”
Merlin, it felt so good to hear him say those words. “Well, you won’t know how you are until you try,” she replied quickly as she hooked her thumbs through the waistband of her panties. She pulled them down, and Harry moved out of the way so that she could bend her knees and get them off of her completely. Then, he was right back in between her thighs with his cock just a few inches too high.
Daphne had always wondered what this moment was going to be like. She’d always dreamed it’d be some handsome man, and while that was still the case here, she’d never expected it to be Harry. Even just a few hours ago, she would have found this idea repulsive, but there was no one else she’d rather be with now.
“Go on,” Daphne urged him on.
“Right,” Harry replied as he awkwardly moved into position.
Daphne gasped when she finally felt the tip of his cock press against her lower lips. He just barely parted them, but he still felt incredibly massive. She had no clue how he was going to fit inside of her, but she didn’t have to guess for long because Harry took the initiative and pushed inside of her.
The mixture of pleasure and pain that shot through her as he tore through her hymen was confusing to say the least, but Harry gave her all the time she needed to process it before he was sliding deeper inside of her again. He kept pushing until Daphne felt their pelvises connect and the feeling of fullness inside of her reached its peak.
Harry was panting above her, struggling to handle the tight pleasure of Daphne’s walls around him, but he was still staring at her, making sure that she was feeling as good as he was.
Daphne gave him a nod in reply to his unspoken question, feeling her own chest rise and fall rapidly as the excitement of finally having sex was coursing through her. She could feel her pussy quickly acclimating to Harry’s girth.
The sound of Daphne’s wetness was instantly audible as Harry started to move inside of her. The incredible heat of his cock matched the heat of her core, and the sheer girth of it made the loss of it deep inside of her feel terrible, but that momentary sadness was more than made up for when he filled her back up.
Surprisingly, Daphne moaned hard on the next thrust. She hadn’t been expecting it, but the burst of pleasure from Harry’s cock hitting just the right spot inside of her made her see stars and force the air out of her lungs. Her sweet cry made Harry’s ears perk up, and he quickly tried to replicate the movements he had just made.
In short order, Daphne was clinging to Harry’s body as he fucked her smoothly. His motions were exact, not too slow and not too fast, and very forceful and precise in their manner. She was faintly aware that he was probably moving on autopilot, trying hard not to explode inside of her already, but those thoughts were lost in the whirlwind of pleasure she was experiencing.
“Fuck yes,” Daphne groaned as she writhed on the bed beneath Harry. Her body was heating up, and her pussy was tingling like crazy every time Harry drove his cock back inside of her. It almost felt like she was starting to lose control over her own body as her limbs tensed and relaxed, seemingly at their own volition, and her thighs started to tremble.
“Merlin, Daphne,” Harry moaned, ramming hard into her. Daphne cried out in pleasure as her pillowy breasts jiggled on her chest. Harry buried his face in the crook of her neck and kept thrusting into her. He was starting to lose the consistent pace he had set, but Daphne could not find it in herself to care when she was feeling this good. “I’m close,” he warned her.
Daphne just moaned in reply. She was close too, so desperately close. Being filled by such a perfect cock was doing things to her that she could have only dreamt of, and it was beautiful.
“Daphne,” Harry panted into her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“Say my name,” Daphne panted. She wanted to hear him say it so badly.
He got his mouth real close to her ear and said “Daphne” just as he pounded hard into her.
Her back arched off of the bed as a wordless scream escaped her lips and her orgasm hit her. Her entire body shuddered and her pussy started to convulse around Harry’s cock. It had barely gone on for less than a second before Harry lost himself too, groaning into her neck as he came inside of her.
Daphne felt each spurt of cum as it fired out of his cock deep inside of her pussy. It felt like he was releasing so much inside of her, and every spurt felt better than the last.
They both came down from their highs at the same time, but neither of them seemed willing to move from the positions they were in as they were both busy catching their breaths.
Daphne was the first to speak. “That was amazing,” she gushed quietly.
Harry chuckled quietly. “I don’t think you felt half as good as I did.”
Daphne’s eyes flashed with mirth. “Oh, you don’t think so, do you? Well, maybe we need another go to put that theory to the test.”
Harry’s laugh made those same butterflies in Daphne’s stomach return.
It felt quite strange to realise that Harry Potter might have just become her favourite person in the world.
Comments
TH
This was fun.
