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Fantastic Boyfriends And How To Find Them Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2023-03-10 00:45:23 +0000 UTCContent Warnings: Teasing.
Daphne nervously tugged on her ill-fitting uniform. She hated the stiff navy blazer and pencil skirt. It, like a lot of things in the Ministry, was utterly impractical and ill-suited for someone who spent their entire day with Magical Creatures. Change was afoot, spearheaded by visionaries like the new Minister for Magic, but even someone as competent as Kingsley Shacklebolt couldn’t remove two decades' worth of rot overnight.
At least she only had to wear it for her quarterly reports with her boss. In the field, far away from the judgmental eyes of the Head of the Department for Magical Creatures, she preferred her usual fare of crop tops and tattered jeans.
“You can go in now,” the secretary said, opening the door to Theodore Carnby’s office by pressing a button under her desk.
Daphne stood, ready to dump her written report on the pompous man’s desk and make a quick exit. She had no desire to spend the rest of her day hearing far-fetched tales of him wrestling trolls into submission.
“My report,” Daphne said shortly, dumping the heavy file onto the large ornate desk. She looked at the portly man. He seemed like someone who had never left the comfort of his chair, let alone spent months in the mud taking care of endangered creatures who needed their aid. “The giants are all settled. They’re happy with their area of the forest and there have been no complaints or fights so far.”
“Good. Good. I didn’t see the need to deal with those savages… I mean, they chose the losing side, right? But when Harry Potter and Hermione Granger tell you to do something…” He let loose a long-suffering sigh. Taking orders from people decades younger than him should have been a humbling experience, but nothing seemed to affect the man and the delusional world he lived in.
“He defeated the Dark Lord, sir,” Daphne reminded him dryly, “You don’t ignore the request of such a man.”
Not if you want to keep your job.
And incompetent though he was, if there was one thing Theodore Carnby was good at, it was keeping his job.
Carnby snorted, clearly irked by her not-so-subtle taunt. “Well, I’m glad you feel that way, Greengrass. Because Potter has volunteered to be your protection detail for the next six months.”
Daphne’s smug expression melted away. “P-protection detail?” she stammered, her heart hammering in her chest.
“We’ve talked about this.”
“And I said no,” Daphne replied stubbornly. “I don’t need an Auror stomping around, mucking things up. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’m afraid it’s not a request this time. The dragon smugglers you busted have dangerous friends. There’s a five hundred galleon bounty on your head. This comes from the Minister himself. Either you take Potter, or you stay right here in Britain,” Carnby said with a smile, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
I hope he fires your ass, Daphne thought sourly.
“Alright,” she muttered, massaging the bridge of her nose. “Can it be someone other than Potter? I mean, surely the man has something better to do than to trudge through the forests of Central Europe for the next six months.”
“As I said, he volunteered to do it. And like you said, we can’t really say no to the Boy-Who-Lived, can we?” Carnby leaned back in his chair, pleased. He had laid the trap, and she had walked right into it.
“We could try?” Daphne offered hopefully.
“Look, I know you have your issues with Potter given your… opposing ideologies,” Carnby leaned forward, adopting a serious expression that just made him look sillier. “But you need to make a good impression. Our department-” He paused, and Daphne knew he was really just talking about himself. “Our department might finally get the recognition it deserves.”
I joined the resistance while you were licking boots in the Ministry. It took all of her willpower not to scowl at him.
“Yeah… but sir… those opposing ideologies…” Daphne stammered. She seized on the excuse, not willing to let the man know her real reasons for not wanting Harry around.
“It’s already done, Greengrass. If you want to study those dragons, you take Potter along, and you make sure you make a good impression.” With that, she was dismissed, the man waving him out of his office.
---
How exactly does one go about seducing a man?
In all honesty, she probably had more important things to worry about. Like the fact that she was taking cover behind a fallen tree trunk in a bloody thunderstorm, trying to avoid the flashes of red and green whizzing over her head while Harry freaking Potter fought two smugglers to protect her stupid ass.
But thinking about that only turned her thoughts back to the man currently parrying the two thickset Hungarians without breaking a sweat. Her mind wandered from the way his biceps strained against the ridiculously small shirt she’d gotten for him after making him ditch his official Auror uniform to his gorgeous eyes to his lips and the way they felt every time he brushed them against her forehead for being a good girl.
Which she was. Often.
Fuck’s sake, I stopped smoking because he asked.
That alone should have gotten her a good hard railing every night during their month-long vacation in Naples.
Unfortunately, she had tried everything short of literally flinging her panties in his face. The man simply refused to take the hint.
When she’d first been assigned a bodyguard for protection by her boss, she had practically revolted and decided to smother the asshole they planned to send to babysit her. She didn’t need a babysitter. She was the most celebrated Magizoologist in all of Europe!
And then they insisted on sending Harry freaking Potter and she completely forgot about her plan. In fact, she completely forgot how to think, speak, or breathe. It was, after all, quite difficult to murder the man she’d been crushing on for the past five years of her life.
Unfortunately, the lack of a mother and an absent father had left her somewhat lacking in social skills, something that had earned her the rather unfair nickname: The Ice Queen. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to people. She didn’t know how to. She had joined his secret club, been one of three Slytherins to fight in the final battle for him against their own housemates, and yet she doubted he was even aware of her existence until he had apparently volunteered to babysit her as they traveled all over Europe.
This is why I stick to magical creatures.
They were simple. They had rules she could follow.
Annoy a dragon and you end up as his lunch.
Try to annoy your crush by shitting all over his cooking and he simply chuckles, ruffles your hair, and feeds you the (admittedly delicious) soup himself.
He was her boyfriend but he wasn’t her boyfriend and nothing she did seemed to change that.
She glanced at her clothes under the long transparent raincoat. She was wearing a low-cut tank top (no bra, the man could literally see her nipples poking through the thin wet fabric if he bothered to look!), a short skirt, and bloody heels. The only way she could bare more skin to him was if she turned up on their expeditions butt-naked.
And yet… nothing. If Tracey hadn’t supplied her with enough dirt about his legendary conquests to fill a mountain, she would have quite honestly suspected he preferred men.
What if you’re just not his type?
Gorgeous five-foot tall blondes with big boobs are every man’s type, Daphne reminded her brain.
A hand gently grasping her shoulder broke her free of her thoughts and she jumped, the pounding in her chest slowing down when she realized it was simply Harry bending to check on her.
“You alright?”
Daphne nodded, still too high-strung to speak.
“Y-you’re wet,” she rasped when she finally found her voice. He seemed to have lost his raincoat in the duel with the smugglers.
“I’ll live.”
I’m not sure I will, she thought as she tried to avoid staring at him. The white shirt clung to his body, every firm muscle standing out in stark contrast against the fabric. She gulped, extending a shaky hand to clamber to her feet.
She suppressed a shiver as his hands patted her body with clinical precision, checking for injuries.
“You’re not hurt?” He couldn’t find anything, and withdrew his hands. A bloody shame, if someone had thought to ask Daphne. No one did, so she kept her mouth shut.
Does an aching pussy count?
She shook her head.
“Alright.”
“What happened to the men?”
“Stunned and bound to a tree. They’ll come to in an hour or two. The German authorities can pick them up in the morning.”
“It was two against one.”
Harry shrugged. “I’ve had worse odds.” He didn’t say anything about their clasped hands. They’d been holding hands more and more often, which Daphne took to be a goodish sign.
The only problem was that if they continued at their current pace, she’d be eighty before he remembered that there was much more he could do to her than simply hold her hand.
She interlaced her fingers with his and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked through the now eerily quiet forest, trying to regain their bearings so they could return to their tent for the night.
“So, princess-” Daphne bit her lip at the nickname. “What lesson did we learn today?”
“Let the big bad Auror sort out all your problems?”
Harry snorted, drawing a giggle from her. His hold on her hand tightened, and Daphne suddenly realized they were characters straight out of the romance novels Tracey loved. She was the genius researcher in trouble, and he, the badass hero who metaphorically burst in at the last minute to save her ass.
Didn’t all those stories end with the two disappearing under blankets?
Right. If fate wouldn’t give it to her, she’d just have to craft her own happy ending.
“How about… When you have a five hundred galleon bounty on your head, don’t roam around without a wand?”
“I’m trying to raise awareness by showing it’s safe to approach dragons without them!”
“And while it’s admirable that you’re trying to stop the practice of stunning and hurting dragons, you need to be able to defend yourself, Fi.”
Daphne slapped his chest. “That’s your job.”
“A little help would be nice,” Harry teased back, finally relaxing as they walked past the wards around their tent. Their tent lay in the very middle of their clearing, protected from the rain and elements by charms. A fire roared in front of its opening, its warmth highly welcome after their experience in the forest.
“Wouldn’t be fair.” She reluctantly pulled her hand free from his and walked over to the fire. She peeled off her raincoat, draping it over the makeshift clothes rack next to the fire. “You’re Harry Potter. Those two thugs never stood a chance. I’ll join in when it’s ten to one.”
“You’re going to get me killed, woman.”
“Is that why you sent your replacement away and chose to stick around for another tour?” Daphne asked, sticking her tongue out at him.
“Honestly?” Harry responded, following her into the tent. “That was to avoid going to Chudley Canon matches with Ron. They’re winning this season and that alone is more terrifying than anything this forest throws at me.” He brushed his lips against her damp forehead, walking past her to the kitchen. “I’ll make some cocoa to warm us up.”
Daphne growled in frustration. She had literally started to undress in the middle of the tent, the strap of her tank top halfway down her arm and her breast seconds away from popping free, and he had simply walked away from her without so much as a glance.
Maybe smothering him in his sleep isn’t such a bad idea after all.
Or…
As she ran her fingers through her damp hair, she studied her outfit and came up with a much better idea.
She peeled off her drenched tank top and skirt, tossing them over to the couch. The frilly pink panties she had on, however, she pulled free and bunched up in her hand before slowly sauntering into the kitchen, her hips swaying as she tried her best to make a memorable entrance.
All for naught.
His back was to her as he fiddled with the tiny stove, setting a small pan on it to heat up milk for the cocoa he had promised.
Must. Not. Smother.
“Harry?” She leaned against the small wooden table that they used to eat their meals, draping herself over it as seductively as she possibly could. Her arms pushed against her torso, making her magnificent breasts pop even more than normal. Each creamy mound was topped by a large pink areola, her nipples rock-hard due to a combination of the cold and the semi-permanent state of arousal she seemed to be in around him. Her heels had a similar effect on her asscheeks, her firm ass raised up in the air for him to easily grab should he choose to do so. Her smoky gray eyes stared at the object of her affection with a seductive gaze, her pink lips curved in a pout that was half frustration and half unbridled desire.
“Yes?”
She tried not to scowl when he wouldn’t even turn around.
“You take care of me. You cook me meals, you keep me safe, you even carry me to bed every night I fall asleep reading on the couch…” Merlin, she hoped he would see where she was going with this.
“Just doing my job. I’m here to take care of you, princess,” Harry responded with a chuckle.
She wanted to slam her head onto the table. “I don’t think cuddling me every evening and staying up reading me stories all night because I was sad a baby dragon died are part of your job description, Potter,” Daphne replied tartly. “You basically do everything my boyfriend would but you’ve never tried to ask me out, why?”
A quiet chuckle escaped her lips when he fumbled, nearly dropping the entire can of cocoa into the pan of milk. “I didn’t… I just felt like I… I liked taking care of you,” he said softly, revealing much more of his feelings to the observant Slytherin than he had intended. “I didn’t mean to take Blaise’s place, sorry.”
“Blaise?” Daphne raised an eyebrow even though he couldn’t see her. This was new. What did Zabini have to do with his reluctance to sleep with her?
“Tracey told me you lost your virginity to him.”
Daphne sighed. Her best friend really needed to learn when to shut up. “So what, he now has a claim to me for the rest of my life?” Daphne challenged, frowning. Surely Harry didn’t believe in antiquated Pureblood notions like those?
“What? No! I just thought… I mean I thought Tracey brought it up as a warning to me. You know, keep your hands to yourself, she’s taken sort of a deal?”
Daphne rolled her eyes, slowly pushing herself up from the table. The position was uncomfortable and Harry seemed to be deliberately avoiding turning around to face her. Why were the two people she loved more than anyone else in the world such fucking idiots?
“Harry, half the castle rode the Zabini train. I’m pretty sure Granger punched a ticket once or twice when she came back to Hogwarts after the war. Does that mean she has feelings for him? No, she doesn’t. No girl in her right mind actually dates Zabini,” Daphne muttered, running a frustrated hand through her long blonde hair. “I didn’t want to graduate as a virgin, so I asked him.” She paused, suddenly feeling the need to clarify further. “It was a twenty-minute affair, in and out. A wholly unsatisfactory experience.”
“So… you’re not dating him?”
No, you dingbat! I have feelings for you! She wanted to scream it while whacking him on the head with a wooden spoon, but she settled for something milder, “No, Harry. I’m not dating him. If the choice was between dating him and pining after you…” Daphne took a deep breath. “I’d spend my life pining after you. Zabini fucked me as a favor because there was no way I was going to let the guy I actually liked… this super popular and nice man who has dated sexual goddesses like Ginny Weasley and Lavender Brown; who has Veelas lusting after him… well, I wasn’t going to let him… I thought he wouldn’t like me if I was a virgin after what I heard about his sexual escapades.”
“Thought?”
“Now I know he’s a fucking sap who’d probably have taken my flower on a bed littered with rose petals and given me a night I’d treasure for the rest of my life.”
“Sounds like a nightmare.”
“God, you have no idea. The man is so thoughtful, I sometimes want to smother him in his sleep.” Daphne chuckled. “Seriously, you never made a move because of Blaise? Did you really think I’d try to seduce you if I had a boyfriend?”
“I… you were trying to seduce me?!”
Daphne walked over to him, leaning up to wrap her slender arms around his neck. She buried her face in his damp shirt, her large breasts squished against the firm muscles of his back. “No, Potter. All dragon handlers wear a mini-skirt and heels, not to mention a form-fitting tank top while taming dragons,” she said dryly.
“I…”
“No way! You really thought this was what I usually wore to work?!” Daphne giggled, gently kissing up his neck.
“The only dragon handler I knew before you was Charlie! He usually wore a shirt and leather pants but he’s a bloke now, isn’t he? It’s not like he’d wear this,” Harry muttered, sounding wounded.
Daphne shook her head and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Any other reasons why I’m not curled up in our bed with your cum leaking out of me, Potter?”
She grinned when he heard his breath hitch. Oh, he wanted her. Badly. He was just being his usual selfless idiot about it.
“I… I’m here to protect you, right? To provide a safe environment for you to continue your studies. I thought… I didn’t want to be disrespectful.”
Daphne suppressed the urge to snort. “You oblivious Gryffindor. Why the fuck did I have to fall in love with you…” She shook her head, reaching out and pushing her bunched-up panties in his hand. “Harry?”
“Yes, Fi?”
“Disrespect me.”
Notes:
Thank you to the Patron who suggested this prompt! I loved writing this different version of Harry/Daphne. Chapter 2 is going to be spicy af and will be out next week! If you'd like a place to discuss my stories and want regular updates or just want to chat with me, join my Discord! The invite link is in my pinned post!
Comments
tornadoboy
Also... On rereading this, I'm more sympathetic to Daphne. Man's kissing her forehead and calling her princess and doesn't think he's flirting? Rude
tornadoboy
Reading that final line has me hoping Harry is also in a relationship with Fleur in this story. If only so Daphne can say "Ravage me like one of your French girls" 🤣🤣
