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SD: CH73 - The Grass Isn't Always Greener
🕑 Added 2023-07-17 16:17:01 +0000 UTCGideon Abbott sat alone in the foyer of his mansion, studying the crossword puzzle from that morning Daily Prophet, when the fireplace flared to life, and Broderick Greengrass stepped through the Floo.
“Ric!” He exclaimed happily. “Afternoon, my friend. What brings you here?”
To his surprise, the seasoned businessman both ignored the nickname and removed several files from the satchel hanging from his shoulder. Then, he carefully placed the bag on the side table and sat down on the couch opposite Gideon’s.
“Trouble,” grunted Broderick.
“Oh joy,” Gideon snorted. “That seems to be the flavour of the month. First Harry Potter pulls off that stunt with Sleekeazy, taking over the company. Then Lucius’s boy gets in trouble with him. Mighty scandal that one could be! But I heard that Lady Malfoy made him reconsider and compromise. Dangerous woman that one is. But what’s up with you now?”
Broderick grunted unhappily. “Gringotts sent me a letter. Bodrok, that’s the goblin that deals with Mystical Meanderies and Lomfay Enterprises, got subpoenaed to the DMLE. Someone ratted me out, and the DMLE’s looking into my accounts and investments. My contact told me that someone dropped a fat wad of files on Amelia Bones’ desk. With any luck, they’ll be all over me by the end of the week.”
Gideon put the paper down and took a sip.
“Are you even listening?”
Gideon arched an eyebrow. It was strange for Broderick to be this antsy.
“What’s wrong my friend? It’s just a DMLE check-up. They do that all the time. And even if someone stirs some shit up, your dear friend Lucius can give a Floo-call to the Minister, and all problems turn to pixie dust and float away.”
“Yeah, no pixie dust this time, Gideon,” said Broderick. “Lucius isn’t here. He’s in Albania.”
Gideon arched an eyebrow. “Albania? What’s he doing there?”
“Beats me. But it’s important and secret. No one, not even his wife knows what’s going on. I tried sending him an owl, but it didn’t take flight. Wherever he is, he doesn’t want to be found right now.”
“Then how did you —”
“Narcissa.”
“Malfoy?”
“Who else?”
“And she told you?”
“I’m Lucius’s partner,” said Broderick proudly. “Besides, she’s easy. Just make her feel important, and she folds like a hippogriff’s wing.”
Gideon narrowed his eyes. Narcissa Malfoy, easy? Since when? That woman was as crafty as they came. But then again, Broderick was Lucius’s partner. Gideon had always hoped to do direct business with Lucius Malfoy, but Broderick had always maintained a firm hold on his position as the man’s second-in-command. Not very subtle, but Gideon could understand it. Lucius brought gold and connections to the table, while Broderick balanced it with his resources, manpower and solid work ethic. Plus, the man was incredibly loyal to Lucius and managed all their shady businesses with utter honesty.
Not Gideon’s cup of tea.
“So Lucius is away in Albania, and unreachable, and you’ve got the DMLE hounding you. Any idea who’s leading the investigation?”
“Gawain Robards.”
Gideon winced.
“Any idea how to throw him off my scent?”
“Can’t.”
Broderick gave him a puzzled look. “Why? What’s his problem?”
“Problem? He’s a fucking boy scout. You can’t buy this one.”
Broderick banged the arm of the chair. “Everyone has a price.”
“This one doesn’t. You can reason with Amelia Bones, and you know how big of a stick that bitch has up her arse. Robards? He’s an attack dog. He doesn’t care for politics, or the Ministry. No doubt that’s why Bones picked him out of the litter.”
“Anything you can tell me about him?”
Gideon considered that.
“I’ll tell you this much. Robards will show up on your door only after he thinks he’s got you nicely prepped and ready to be served on the dinner palate. Knowing him, he’s probably looking at your books, your meetings, your parties. He’s already got pictures of your whole inner circle, friends, partners, their wives, everything. He’ll even peek into your fucking bath if he thinks he can get away with that.”
Broderick made a nasty face. “That’s not an investigation. That’s an invasion of my privacy.”
Gideon took a sip of his morning tea. “That’s exactly what he does. What he’s currently doing. He rattles you. And he’s going to rattle your other partners and this goblin until they nag you to become a witness.”
Broderick blinked. “He wants me to rat on myself? He wants me to give him the information that’d end up with… No, no way. There’s got to be, I mean, you’ve got to give me something. Maybe I can give this guy a call. See what he wants. If he’s harassing my banker, that’s grounds for me to call and inquire, right?”
Gideon exhaled. For someone that was a seasoned businessman, Broderick had the tendency to act out when pushed. Luckily, his irrationality soon died down, and he was able to pull that anarchic head of his into solving the mess. This time though, Gideon needed him to be a little irrational to get what he wanted done.
His plans demanded it.
“Listen to me, Broderick Greengrass,” he said firmly, “the only person that’s going to call this guy is your solicitor. You don’t fuck with people like Robards. Get that? He’s like a hawk. Everything you say, he’s going to use it against you. He’s smart. You’re dumb. Get this straight.”
“Then what do you want me to do? Sit on my arse while everything I’ve built over the decades falls apart?”
Gideon looked at his friend with a dubious expression before shaking his head. “No, that isn’t what I meant. What is your biggest hold-up for the moment?”
“I told you. Robards is investigating Lomfay and Mystical Meanderies. Lomfay we can manage. They are managed through several other companies on the continent. And no way they’ll have the power or the evidence to subpoena all those companies. But Mystical meanderies? That’s got me all over the place. If they find out that I’ve been manufacturing illegal potion ingredients for it, I’ll fucking lose my fucking license. Greengrass Exports will be destroyed, and the Aurors will be banging my front door warrant in hand.”
Actually, Gideon wanted to say, it wouldn’t be destroyed. It would just be Broderick who’d be fucked. Real hard. But still… Something about this bothered him. He wasn’t a believer in coincidences, but if he were, he’d have described it as hilariously serendipitous.
Still, no one ever became successful by looking a gift horse in the mouth.
“Phyllida,” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible without being overt. “Isn’t that the same unit that your Board keeps harping about?”
Broderick growled. “It is. Phyllida Greenhouses has always been a bad asset for the Export company. They just want me to get rid of it.”
“Why not just sell it to Mystical Meanderies or some other company you can control?”
“Too risky,” Broderick grunted. “I’m already spread thin over this trade. Especially with Harry Potter taking over Sleekeazy. Bloody Boy-Who-Lived sent a fucking proposal to the Board, offering to buy out Phyllida, and since then some of the members have been rather vocal.”
Gideon frowned. He didn’t know about that bit. Had Potter acted out without letting him know?
“Harry Potter? When did this happen?”
Broderick gave him an odd look. “Sometime last month.”
Ah. Then he had done it before coming to Gideon. That made sense. No wonder he was willing to put so many cards on the table to get his way. Not a very wise move, but nobody had ever accused the boy of being a genius.
“Anything you want to tell me?”
“... yes. Actually, I do. You see, Harry Potter visited me just last week. He’s a friend of my niece and came to know about our friendship. He came to ask if I could… shall we say, broker a deal between House Greengrass and House Potter.”
Broderick arched an eyebrow. “In exchange for?”
“Sizable benefits,” Gideon shrugged. The best lies were those that hid a sliver of falsehood in an ocean of truth. “Apparently he’s trying to expand his reach in the potions trade, and needs certain magically rich environments, or something like that.”
“I’ve heard,” said Broderick grumpily. “He has had his eye on Phyllida since then.” He paused. “Do you think that he might have been the one…”
“Don’t be absurd, Broderick,” Gideon scoffed. “Even if he somehow got all the evidence he needed to connect Mystical Meanderies with you, which I doubt he does, you’re really telling me that a strapping lad like him who’s making a mess of his family fortune, is the one that sent the DMLE dogs after you? And for what? To get the property he wants? If the DMLE discovers exactly what Phyllida is being used for, they’ll seal it for Merlin-knows how long! And even after that, it’ll be held in litigation for years. If Potter was really behind this, he’s a greater fool than I thought.”
“So, not Potter then.”
Gideon shook his head. Inwardly, he was dancing in glee at the opportunity that had just presented itself. “But there’s an idea. Potter told me that he wants to rent Phyllida for some months and see if it truly matches what he wants.”
“Why are you bothering me with Potter and his inane demands? We need to solve the bigger problem here!”
“My friend, I am solving your problem. Phyllida is what ties you to Meanderies. Your Board has wanted you to dispose of it for a long time. Why not let Harry Potter have it? Draw up an agreement, hand over the papers, upon condition that he’ll sell it back to you after a determined time frame. Say… six months. Until then Lucius will be back, and you can just buy it back from Potter.”
“But why would Potter agree? If he really wants the place so bad, why would he ever agree to sell it back to me?”
Gideon smiled. “My dear friend, since when have we started caring about others? And besides, if we play this well, you can even land yourself on the Potter fortune.”
Broderick met his eyes for a long second. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I’ve heard rumours about Lucius’s son and your youngest…” Gideon began.
“Astoria?” asked Broderick. “Yes. We have a betrothal contract. She’ll be engaged to Draco right after she passes her OWLs. Draco will take up the mantle of Lord Black, and she’ll be the Lady.”
“Must be nice,” Gideon shrewdly observed. “And if you can latch on to your eldest with Potter then…”
The man shook his head. “It wouldn’t work. Potter is the quintessential Gryffindor, from what I’ve heard. He hates Slytherins with a passion, from what Astoria tells me.”
“Now that I will disagree. I’ve discussed Potter with my niece in vivid detail ever since he met me. I’ll agree with your assessment about his Gryffindor disposition, but his sole animosity is with Lucius’s son and his henchmen. He hasn’t even talked to any other Slytherin to date.”
Brodrick frowned. “Still, it’s no secret that I’m Lucius’s partner. I doubt he’d want to marry someone whose younger sister is married to Lucius’s son either.”
“Yet he also strikes me as someone wanting to make a name for himself. He reached out to me, and struck a deal over things most profitable, just so that I could lend him a hand in this matter. I think you’re looking at this from a tainted lens. Why not ask your eldest about him? Daphne’s far more… jaded, I’ve heard.”
Something dark flickered over Broderick’s face. “She’s got a… condition. That and it’s not easy for people to get along with her. That’s why I chose Astoria over her for young Draco.”
That and Daphne’s a potential heiress to the Selwyn dynasty. Gideon mused. You, my slippery friend, aren’t as subtle as you think.
“I’d say that’s an even better situation. Daphne isn’t blinded by schoolyard ego troubles, from what I’ve heard. Keeps to herself and is an excellent class performer. Maybe strike something between her and Potter.”
Broderick leaned towards him and whispered evenly. “I don’t see you pushing your niece in his arms.”
Gideon laughed. “You won’t get any secret ploys here, my friend. Truth is, House Abbott has nothing to offer House Potter, but House Greengrass does. The Potters are an Ancient and Noble Family, much like the Malfoys. Can you imagine the social standing you’ll get with your daughters marrying Draco Malfoy and the Boy-Who-Lived? Plus, it fits Greengrass's policy of staying neutral.”
“Still wouldn’t work,” grumbled Broderick. “I am hearing whispers out there. Rumours about something big about to happen. The old extremists are stirring again. If there’s another civil war, my House will be divided among both sides.”
“Or, it can profit the most. And besides, accidents can happen to anyone, anytime. Can they not?”
The two men looked at each other for another long second.
And then burst into chuckles.
“Let me send him an owl,” said Gideon. “We’ll get an agreement whipped right away, preferably one that’s backdated a bit, just to keep the Aurors from snooping around too much. Not that they’d do, what with the Boy-Who-Lived’s name added to it. Give it to him for free for all I care, so long as he’s willing to return it back within a predetermined time period. And then, all problems are gone, and you’ve got the Boy-Who-Lived served in a platter to mould as you like. If you find it fitting, you can tie him to Daphne. What’s there to lose?”
Broderick smiled as he stood up. “What indeed?”
....
....
....
With a pop, Nymphadora appeared in front of Harry Potter’s apartment wearing a sexy black dress and high heels, carrying a bottle of Ogden's in her hand. Hestia had invited her to spend an evening with her at Potter’s place, claiming that he was away. It was a good opportunity for her to spend some time together with her bestie. Merlin knew that ever since Hestia had jumped on the job offer, they had spent a lot less time together than they used to.
She crossed the outer wards and rang the bell, taking the time to breathe better and look around. As much as she denied it, just coming to this place was giving her shivers. The last time she had been here…. Well, memorable, was one way of putting it. Her interaction with the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Sexually-Tame-A-Werewolf had ended up with her fingering herself to sleep.
The memory of that cock sliding up and down Granger’s moist pussy….
She shivered.
“Control yourself, girl! At this rate, you’ll end up tattooing his name on your arse. You’re a fucking Auror, not a Boy-Who-Lived fangirl!”
Truthfully, she felt like a coward. She had only agreed to Hestia’s offer to spend a girls’ night here because Potter was away. But even she couldn’t deny that some part of her actually hoped that he’d be present. Wasn’t that why she had dressed up in that black dress she had worn the last time, with complete with fuck-me heels, looking every bit of a stately party girl in muggle high-society.
Very fuckable.
The door opened, and Hestia arrived, wearing a very tight, faux-leather pink top and no obvious bra. Her large nipples were poking through the material. Matching that with tight jeans in an overall sexy come-hither look, Hestia had dressed to impress.
Nymphadora was amused. She knew of Hestia’s predilections about sex. You couldn’t just have a girl as your bestie for five years of Hogwarts without knowing about her sexual leanings and interests. Not that Hestia tried to hide it or anything.
And the worst part? She knew exactly who it was she was trying to impress.
Too bad Nymphadora didn’t swing that way.
Thoughts of sex led to a different but related topic. Knowing her friend, she wondered exactly what kind of relationship she shared with the Boy-Who-Lived. Experienced or not, he was still a third-year passout.
“Tonks!” Hestia greeted her with a warm hug, pressing her breasts seductively together, the hug lingering a bit longer than normal. Nymphadora pursed her lips, and accepted the treatment anyway. She had come to expect this from her — little touches, just enough to toe the line between platonic and carnal, a harmless kiss on the cheek lingering just a second more than was normal, her inability to maintain eye-contact with her — things like that.
It was both amusing and disheartening at the same time. Amusing, because Hestia kept trying too hard while never being frank about it. And disheartening, because she couldn’t give her best friend what she truly wanted.
Not after….
Tonks sighed. This wasn’t the time to dig out old wounds.
“You look great, Tonks.”
“Thanks, I feel a little underdressed to be honest. But this dress worked the last time, so… I decided to stick with this.”
“Brings in memories of the last time, doesn’t it?” Hestia quipped, her teasing eyes running down her body. “And you’ve added some size to your boobs. And at the hip.” A smouldering hunger flickered in her eyes before being replaced with melancholy, as she took a step back and gave her a thorough look-over.
“You really ought to have increased your height a little. Maybe a couple of inches?”
She could have, but adding much to her height and weight were easy ways to get her coordination all fucked up. The last thing she needed was to come across as a klutz.
She had enough of that during her formative years as a metamorph at Hogwarts, and at the Auror Academy.
“Come on, in.”
She walked past the foyer into the drawing room, with Hestia pulling a bottle from the bar, and fumbling with the glasses. This was the very room she had been in the last time she had been here.
A shiver ran down her spine.
“Reminiscing about your last visit, are we?” asked Hestia, without even looking at her, as she poured firewhiskey into the glasses.
“Uh, I got you firewhiskey—”
“Oh, don’t bother with opening that,” said Hestia. “It’s a gift for me, right? So I’ll drink it later.” she gave her a beaming smile, as she walked towards her, a glass in each hand. “All mine, that bottle is.”
Nymphadora chuckled, and accepted the glass.
Hestia grinned and sat down on the couch where Harry Potter had sat the other time, with a familiarity that went beyond what a secretary should have. She looked absolutely comfortable where she was, which raised all kinds of questions in her Auror brain. She had seen Hestia interact with Harry almost on an equal basis. Yes, she had followed protocol and everything, but anyone with eyes could see that Harry Potter valued her contributions, and not just as an employee on his payroll.
Frowning, she took the seat opposite Hestia. Just like the last time.
“So, where is he?”
“Harry? He’s off to the Bones Mansion.”
Nymphadora arched an eyebrow. She had been there when he had asked Susan Bones to get him a private meeting with her aunt. Something about giving her private information without being in the books. But it was past evening, and she knew exactly what kind of security Madam Bones had at her place.
“He’s meeting with her this late?”
Hestia blinked. “Uh, no. He’s been there since Friday.”
Nymphadora did a double-take. Friday? But it was Tuesday already, and she knew all about Madam Bones and her ‘ten-minute’ meetings. She had gotten stuck playing fetch-girl for half a month, and she knew what kind of a slavedriver that woman was. It was like she got off on dominating others, and making them quake in fear.
“Any clue what it’s about?”
Hestia shook her head. “I know what his meeting is supposed to be about. But then again, the meeting I know of was supposed to be for ten minutes. He was supposed to be back the same afternoon. Instead all I get is a letter, claiming he’ll be delayed by days.”
Nymphadora frowned. Hestia probably didn’t know this, but Madam Bones too was on official leave since Friday. The same day, she met with Harry Potter. As obvious as it seemed, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that Harry Potter could convince Amelia Dominatrix Bones to play ball. Merlin’s beard, the woman practically lived in her office.
“Can you tell me what the meeting was about?”
“Can’t,” Hestia said. “Secretary vow, remember?”
Nymphadora might be an Auror Cadet, but she liked to think she was a damn fine one. Hestia’s chipper tone was scratching a part of her mind that told her that the Vow wasn’t her restraint, but her excuse.
But why? She was a member of the Order first, and Potter’s secretary after.
Something didn’t add up.
“Still, there must be something you can tell me about it? You can’t tell me you’re not curious about what’s going on there at Bones Mansion.”
Hestia shrugged, utterly nonchalant. “Harry confides in me completely. If he’s playing this one close to the chest, there has to be a reason for it.”
“He’s a schoolboy, Hestia, not a grown up man,” she said, trying hard not to think how the same schoolboy made her go all gooey inside just by thinking about him. “Surely you don’t think he’s able to think of everything.”
Hestia gave her an even look. “That schoolboy is my employer, Tonksie. And I think he’s man enough in every way that matters.”
Her stomach did a nasty flip at that remark. Nymphadora had no doubts about the innuendo Hestia had used. It was a warning, all things considered. Perhaps, she needed to let her inner Auror take a backstep, and let her hair down a little first. She wasn’t here to investigate Harry Potter, but to see her best friend.
“Knowing him,” Hestia spoke up, “it probably has something to do with The Black family. That, or whatever he bargained for from Narcissa Malfoy back then.”
Five points to Ravenclaw, Nymphadora mused. She didn’t fail to notice that the only detail she gave her was something that she herself had been witness to, and thus, nothing too useful. Though, why Narcissa Malfoy would give anything worthwhile to Harry Potter was a different jar of worms. That woman was as crafty as they came.
“‘Nuff enough that,” chirped Hestia. “I heard you were part of the team investigating the House Flint scandal. Tell me, is Katherine Flint exactly the kind of slut Prophet was painting her to be?”
Nymphadora laughed. “No, no, she’s much worse.”
“Oh, do tell.”
They settled into a normal gossip session of the recent month and her recent escapades with criminals, with multiple bottles of firewhiskey finished over that time. As the night wore on, Nymphadora could feel herself getting tipsier, the firewhiskey starting to kick in. Hestia was already drunk and blabbering without care. This created a looser lipped environment and the conversations started to turn into private topics.
Something Nymphadora was actually looking forward to. Especially since the moment Harry Potter had begun scratching that part of her mind that told her he was up to something. She hated taking advantage of Hestia like this, but she was an Auror, and it never hurt to trust her instincts.
“So, any regrets?”
Hestia blinked. “Regrets?”
“About taking this job.”
She blinked again. “Are you kidding? Taking up Harry’s offer was the best thing I’ve done recently. I’ll say things have gone to places I never imagined I would go, but now that I am here, I’d like to stay.”
That confirmed it. Her stomach twisted, but she put up a teasing grin. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”
Please say no. Please say no. Please say —
“Oh, yeah, ‘course! And I’ll tell you, he’s good.”
Her words hilted a dagger inside her heart. “I see.”
She could almost imagine Harry Potter sitting on that very couch, naked from the waist down, talking to her. And bouncing on his cock in agonisingly slow motions, was Hestia. Just like how she had caught her back in fifth year with…
Stop overcomplicating things, girl. She told herself. Get over it. You knew Potter was a playboy. You sent Hestia to him. You knew this was a possibility. Own it.
“Though…” Hestia chimed. “I could really do with a bigger size,” she gave her breasts a squeeze. Nymphadora was awfully conscious of the way Hestia’s cleavage was glaringly on display, her semi-hard nipples poking through her shirt.
This has got to be the weirdest seduction ever. Talking about her sexcapades with a guy she knows I like, but all she’s doing is revealing her body to me. When will she understand that I….
She sighed.
“Breast man, is he?”
“Through and through. That, and arse. You can’t go wrong with that. You’d know too, if you’d just…”
“I’ll pass,” Nymphadora waved off. “Too young for me.”
“Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, girl,” she laughed. “I was there, you know, that night when you were whispering his name and fingering yourself.”
Nymphadora went red. “I thought I used a silencing charm.”
“You did,” said Hestia, smiling like a cherub. “I cast an eavesdropping charm on your skirt.”
“Bitch!”
“Takes one to know one,” Hestia sang. “Though tell me this at least, why didn’t you take up his offer? Not that I ain’t glad for the job or anything.”
“I told you,” Nymphadora asserted. “He‘s too young for me.”
She really hoped she sounded more convincing than she did in her head.
You know me, Hestia. It just doesn’t work that way. I’m not interested in… I mean, I definitely don’t want to have sex with random people. I want to be chased, not handed out.” She finished the last bit a little too loudly. “Also, he’s involved with that werewolf girl.”
“Hermione? What about her?”
Nymphadora narrowed her eyes. “She’s involved with him.”
Hestia barked out a laugh. “Come on, Tonks. You know better. He’s the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. And if stuff goes to plan, House Black as well. His Family Charters won’t allow him to marry a werewolf. At best, she’ll be his concubine.”
Nymphadora frowned. “And… she’s okay with it?”
Hestia grinned. “More than okay. She knows that Harry loves her. And that’s more than enough. That and he can fuck her into insanity. Werewolves are horny bitches, you know.”
Yeah, Nymphadora thought dryly. She knew that very well, what with her first hand experience with Granger.
“... He fucks me like I've always wanted to be fucked. You know what that's like? Getting the fuck you've always wanted, out of your man?"
Damn you, Granger!
She was really confused. His dick-size notwithstanding, Nymphadora would have called his efforts to impress her back then as cute. As much as she disliked using her talents for the purpose, she knew the kind of control she could exert over men if she tried, and as much as she wanted to deny it, the thrill of doing so was indescribably hot. It was a slippery slope, one she had so far avoided. And yet, he wasn’t like the others. His desire to have sex with her was obvious, but he wanted more than just a simple roll in the hay. He didn’t just want her body, but wanted to conquer her.
And she, like the idiot she was, had handed her bestie off to him to play with.
To be honest, she had expected that Hestia would sooner or later end up in bed with Potter. If not for her appetite, then to get Potter to trust her completely. Men had the tendency to get honest after a good fuck. But seeing Hestia coo over him was surprising. She was no metamorph, but she was a prize nonetheless. Practically a nine on most guy’s lists. A confident, mature woman with a dirty side, but she was not an easy catch. Nymphadora had seen her shoot men down as deftly as she did, and yet, she fell victim to Potter’s charms. A freaking schoolboy. So either Potter was way better with his oversized dick and far more crafty and mature than she gave him credit for, or Hestia was an easier lay than she ever knew.
And she knew Hestia. She wasn’t easy.
She’d admit she was feeling a tad envious. She had seen Potter first. She had introduced him to her. And Hestia had fucked him like that… like how Nymphadora would have wanted.
She couldn’t help herself.
“Just… just out of curiosity, how is he?”
“Ooooh, someone’s interested!” Hestia cooed.
Nymphadora blushed. “Well, you’re the one selling me the idea.”
Hestia’s eyes practically sparkled. “He’s a sex-god, Tonks. He can go on and on and on and on. I know you told me he’s a bad boy, and I had prepared myself for that. Teenage boys are dickheads. A little touch here, a blowjob there, and thirty seconds of fame, that’s all they have. But Harry… oh Merlin, he works my body like a maestro, honey. The first time we fucked, he gave me like a dozen world-shaking, pussy-creaming, body-quaking orgasms. It's like his cock has just one job, getting orgasm after orgasm from whatever pussy he touches. I knew, right then, that he had my number.”
Nymphadora shivered.
“There aren’t enough words in the English language to explain what he does to me. Merlin, the arrogance. And the things he did to my body, my legs, my arse, my pussy, my mouth… the way he controlled me in bed, the way he pounded me, the way he handled me…. Just even thinking of it makes me melt.”
Damn straight. Nymphadora sure was feeling that wetness in her panties. What the hell was she thinking, asking Hestia to describe it?
“A guy like that? He’s wasted on schoolgirls. Hermione’s a werewolf, so she’s an exception. Trust me, Tonks, if word of his skill goes out, half of those snooty pureblood wives that go around looking down on us would be on their knees, waiting to taste his cock. And his cock! You’ve seen it, right? It’s a work of fucking art. Big, thick, and meaty. Just getting it into one of my holes is enough to send me rocketing to orgasm and back. And the way his massive dick would swell up, stretching my cunt even more when it was about to cum inside me, feeling his iron-hard rod flexing as it pumped warm cum inside me…. Uhhh! Even thinking about it is so… stirring!”
Nymphadora squirmed. She really cursed herself in the foot with that one.
“Like, I can’t tell you, Tonks. Merlin, I even love his fucking cum. And you know, he cums gallons. I swear, his body’s sole purpose is to produce cum with how much he spurts. I love how thick it is, how creamy, and how warm it is. And I fucking love its taste. And I’ll tell you, it just tastes so much better from the source. Letting his thick and warm seed enter my mouth, letting it coat my tongue and go down my throat, it’s like a fine meal. Even though swallowing it naturally means the end of a sexual encounter, his cum’s like an aphrodisiac to me. Every time I swallow it, I only want more.”
“Okay! Okay! Stop right there!” Nymphadora held out her hands, sitting ramrod straight, her metamorph powers going haywire. “I don’t need to hear anymore.”
Hestia laughed. “Damn straight you don’t. Any more and you’d orgasm right away.”
“What do you—”
Hestia smirked, and pointed at the mirror. Nymphadora looked at her own reflection and instantly palmed her face in humiliation. Her hair had turned blazing hot pink, and had lengthened all the way down to her waist. Her breasts, which had been quite modest, even for this meeting, were now scandalously large, approaching the size of a melon with each massive mound.
She almost didn’t see Hestia lick her lips.
It took her several seconds to clear her thoughts and settle back to her normal ‘morph’. Hestia just sat on the couch and eyed her in amusement.
“Okay, you’ve made your point,” Nymphadora said at last. “But if he’s that good, why are you pushing me into his arms?”
She could have sworn that Hestia looked forlorn for a second before the happy drunk returned. “Because you’re missing out, babe. Harry’s… perfect. Like, more than perfect. It hurts to admit, but I’m just not built enough to satisfy him. But you’re a metamorph. You can take him in ways no one can, and we both know you’ve got the hots for him.”
“Hestia—”
“You can keep denying, but the other girls won’t. I’m sure the Bonesy girl is trying to get boned on his dick right now.”
Susan Bones? No freaking way. She hated Potter’s guts.
“Trust me, babe. I know it. She’s one of those that look down at bad boys in public, but end up being ravaged by them behind closed doors. Trust me, Harry will make you an honest woman. Like he’s made me. I know I joined this to be his handler, but honestly, I’m his now.”
Nymphadora froze. Just that one statement alone had all but driven all sexual thoughts straight out of the window. Hestia was… his?
There were so many wrongs in that one sentence. Hestia was a member of the Order first, and her best friend second. Harry Potter’s employee came third in priority. His sexual prowess, no matter how good, shouldn’t change Hestia like that.
…Right?
She let out an uneasy laugh. “Good joke.”
“No joke,” said her friend seriously. “I am his, Tonks. And I think you should too.”
“Why?”
Hestia smiled. “You’ll find out. When you date him.”
“You mean when I sleep with him.”
She grinned. “Exactly.”
Nymphadora barely managed to suppress the frown forming on her face. Had she been reading things wrong? Had she been so distracted by Harry Potter and his cock that she had missed something sinister happening before her eyes?
NO— her mind supplied. This was Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. Dumbledore’s protege. But did that mean he was the person people thought he was?
She thought about Granger. The girl was supposed to be a prim and proper muggle born student that was so high strung that you'd think she had a stick stuck up her arse. She had thought that it was perhaps the werewolf curse decreasing her inhibitions, but if Hestia too had been ensnared by this…
Her thoughts went back to Florean’s parlour. The way Hannah was looking at Potter… And from Hestia’s own words, Susan Bones who held nothing but disdain for Potter, if she too was…
Something was wrong.
Something was utterly wrong.
And she needed to find it out. There was an easy way to accomplish just that, but it was a slippery slope. It would cross many lines. If things went too far, she could lose all control over the situation. But if she succeeded, she could unveil the mystery of Harry Potter. Understand exactly what he was up to, and how he was ensnaring women.
“You want me to take the leap, huh?” she said slowly, not believing that she was really doing this. “What would you have me to do, Hestia? Drop my clothes and wait for him to come fuck me like he owns me?”
Hestia let out a bark of laughter. “No, babe. But just give him a chance. Go out on a date with him or something. And when you’re done, tell me all about it.”
Nymphadora didn’t wince. Not at all.
“Sure,” she said, and put up a brave smile. “A date with Harry Potter it is then.”
Comments
Alkole
Damn nymphadora is really gonna join him wonder if he could get her mum as well
Penthuisiast
What blood curse?
Robert
So does Daphne have the blood curse in your story or is it a different condition you are referring to?
KristofferXxXxX
Oh so Nymphadora Tonks is the next target for Harry to add to his ever-growing harem :3
