GrumpyBoyBen
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Chapter 39
🕑 Added 2025-08-24 19:10:07 +0000 UTCHomecoming (Narcissa Malfoy)
Homecoming (Narcissa Malfoy)
King’s Cross was as chaotic as ever, parents calling out, trolleys clattering, steam from the train curling through the air. Harry stood with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny by the barrier, waiting for Mrs Weasley to round everyone up.
“Don’t forget, Harry,” Hermione said, “we still need to finish that essay for McGonagall. Even though it’s the holidays, I thought—”
Ron groaned. “Hermione, give it a rest. It’s Easter, not bloody homework week.”
Hermione gave him a look, but Harry only half-heard. His eyes were on Ginny, who stood close beside him, her hand brushing against his.
She leaned in, pretending to adjust the strap on her bag, and whispered so only he could hear. “I’m really going to miss you.”
Harry turned his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s only a few days.”
She smirked faintly, her eyes glinting. “That’s not what I meant.”
Heat ran through him instantly. He blinked at her, caught off guard, and she gave him the most innocent smile, like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Merlin, Ginny,” he muttered under his breath.
“Don’t look so shocked,” she teased, her voice low. “You’re the one who set the standard.”
Before he could fire something back, Mrs Weasley’s voice cut across the platform, calling for Ginny to hurry along. Ginny rolled her eyes, then grabbed the front of Harry’s jumper and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Not a quick peck — a proper one, enough to make Ron groan loudly from the side.
“Ugh, disgusting,” Ron muttered.
“Grow up,” Ginny shot back, still smirking as she let go of Harry.
Hermione tugged on Ron’s arm, steering him toward the Weasleys. “Come on, leave them.”
Ginny gave Harry’s hand one last squeeze, whispered, “See you soon,” and then disappeared into the crowd with her family.
Harry stood there a moment longer, smiling faintly, before turning and spotting Sirius leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed, watching.
“Done saying goodbye?” Sirius asked with a grin.
Harry chuckled. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Grimmauld Place was quiet when they flooed in, the familiar creak of the hallway and faint smell of old polish greeting them. Harry had long since grown used to the house; it was dark, sure, but he and Sirius had made it theirs over the past year.
He dropped his trunk by the stairs and stretched. “What’s for dinner?”
“Funny you ask,” Sirius said, shrugging off his cloak. “We’ve got company.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Company?”
Sirius smirked. “Narcissa. She’s coming over tonight.”
Harry blinked, then fought down the smile tugging at his lips. “Narcissa? Again?”
“Yeah. We’ve been… talking more, you know. Making up for lost years. She’s not as bad as she used to be.” Sirius shrugged casually, moving into the kitchen. “She deserves a chance.”
Harry followed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking too much. He remembered exactly what had happened last time she stayed over. Sirius, of course, didn’t have the faintest clue.
“Cool,” Harry said evenly, grabbing an apple from the counter like it was no big deal. “Dinner with family, then.”
“Exactly,” Sirius said with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder.
Harry only smiled back, already wondering how tonight was going to play out.
----- ------
Grimmauld’s front door creaked open just after seven, and Sirius ushered Narcissa in with a broad grin. She swept into the hall like she owned it, her hair immaculate as always, though her expression softened when she saw Harry waiting.
“Harry,” she said smoothly, her voice carrying that refined lilt it always had. “You’ve grown again, I think.”
Harry smirked faintly. “Don’t think so. Same height since last summer.”
“Still,” she said, eyes glinting, “you look older.”
Sirius led them straight into the living room, and Harry stopped short as he stepped through the doorway.
The place barely looked like the same house. Gone were the mouldy drapes and cracked wallpaper. The room was bright, newly painted, with sleek furniture that actually looked comfortable. A modern fireplace crackled gently at one end, and the whole place felt… alive.
“Blimey,” Harry muttered. “When did you do this?”
“Couple of weeks ago,” Sirius said proudly, throwing himself onto the sofa. “Didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Place needed a proper update. Even Kreacher likes it.”
Harry dropped into one of the armchairs, shaking his head in amazement. Narcissa settled opposite, her legs crossing neatly.
“Well?” Sirius asked. “Better than the old cave?”
Harry laughed. “Miles better.”
Narcissa’s eyes moved back to him, soft but sharp all at once. “How has your term been?”
Harry shrugged, leaning back casually. “Fun.”
Her lips twitched. “Fun?”
“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “More fun than it should’ve been, probably.”
Her brow arched slightly, though she didn’t press. Sirius jumped in with some story about a run-in with a pompous old pure-blood he’d seen in Diagon Alley, and soon the two of them were laughing and trading jabs.
Harry was only half-listening when a sudden silver hawk Patronus burst through the wall. Its voice was clipped, urgent: Black, we need you at the Ministry. Now.
Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Bloody typical.” He stood, grabbing his cloak. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t wait up if it gets late.”
And with a whirl of green flames in the Floo, he was gone.
Silence filled the living room. The fire popped quietly.
Harry turned his head. Narcissa was already watching him.
For a long second, neither of them spoke. Then her lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
“Well,” she said softly, her voice rich and smooth, “are you just going to sit there… or are you going to fuck me?”
Harry didn’t waste a second. The second the words left her lips, he was on his feet, crossing the space between them. Narcissa barely had time to smirk before his mouth was on hers, hot and rough, his hands in her hair, pulling her in like he’d been waiting all night.
She gasped against him, but her arms were already circling his neck, nails dragging lightly at his skin as she kissed him back with equal hunger.
“You don’t mess about,” she whispered when they broke for breath.
“Neither do you,” Harry muttered, pushing her back against the sofa, his hands sliding down her sides.
Her head tipped back, a low moan escaping her throat as his mouth moved to her neck, biting just hard enough to leave a mark. She arched into him, her legs parting, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.
“Fuck,” she breathed, her voice thick, “I forgot how good you feel.”
Harry grinned against her skin. “Then let me remind you.”
He pushed her down fully onto the cushions, climbing over her, his weight pressing her into the new upholstery. She didn’t resist — she welcomed it, her smirk flashing as she tugged at his shirt. “Off.”
He yanked it over his head, tossing it aside, then grabbed the hem of her dress and shoved it up without hesitation. She laughed, breathless, lifting her hips to help him.
The firelight flickered over her bare skin, and Harry groaned low in his throat. “Merlin, you’re unreal.”
“Show me, then,” she challenged, her voice dripping with want.
So he did. He slid inside her in one smooth thrust, both of them groaning at the sudden heat and closeness. Narcissa’s head tipped back, her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a sharp cry.
“Fuck— yes—”
Harry gritted his teeth, his hands gripping her hips hard as he set a pace that was fast, rough, unapologetic. Every thrust drove another moan out of her, her body arching, clutching at him like she couldn’t get enough.
“This—” she gasped, her voice breaking, “this is what I wanted.”
He kissed her again, hard, swallowing her moans as his rhythm got wilder, his breath ragged in her ear. The new sofa creaked under them, the fire popping louder as the room filled with the sound of skin against skin and Narcissa’s unrestrained cries.
Harry growled low, biting gently at her jaw. “You’re mine tonight.”
“Yes,” she moaned instantly, clinging to him tighter. “All yours— fuck, don’t stop—”
Harry didn’t ease up once he was inside her. His rhythm was sharp, urgent, every thrust drawing another sound out of Narcissa. Her head was tipped back against the sofa cushion, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parted as she clung to him.
“Merlin, Harry,” she breathed, her nails dragging down his back. “You’ve gotten even better.”
He kissed her hard in reply, biting at her bottom lip until she gasped again. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, slamming into her deep enough to make her arch off the cushions.
The firelight flickered across the room, catching her pale skin, her flushed cheeks, the way she looked at him like she wanted to devour him whole.
“Is this what you missed?” Harry muttered against her neck, his voice low and rough.
“Yes,” she moaned instantly, her back arching as his pace quickened. “God, yes. I’ve thought about it every night.”
Her admission spurred him on, his thrusts harder, faster. Narcissa’s moans filled the room, loud, unashamed. She wasn’t trying to hide the pleasure at all — she let it roll through her, her voice breaking as her body rocked against his.
“More,” she gasped, clutching his arms. “Don’t stop, Harry, please.”
“You don’t have to beg,” he growled, pushing even deeper.
She cried out, her body clenching tight around him as she came, shuddering beneath him. He didn’t slow. He fucked her through it, his hands tight on her hips, his mouth biting at her shoulder until she was trembling, gasping for air, half laughing through the pleasure.
“Merlin, you’re relentless,” she managed, still smiling through her ragged breathing.
Harry kissed her again, pressing his chest tight against hers. “You love it.”
“I do,” she moaned, wrapping her legs tighter around him. “Fuck, I love it.”
The sofa creaked under the pace he was setting, the room echoing with the sound of them together. Her hair was a mess now, her cheeks flushed red, but she didn’t care. She pulled him in closer, biting at his neck, urging him on.
“Harder, Harry,” she whispered, her voice thick with want. “Give me all of it.”
He shifted her hips again, angling her perfectly, and drove into her harder, faster, until she was crying out his name, nails raking down his back, her body arching as another orgasm ripped through her.
She was shaking, eyes squeezed shut, gasping his name like a prayer. And still, Harry didn’t stop. He wanted every bit of her, wanted her wrecked, wanted her begging for more even as she came undone again and again.
Harry slammed into her again, harder this time, and Narcissa let out a sharp, unrestrained moan that filled the living room. Her legs were locked around his waist, dragging him deeper, her nails biting into his back with every thrust.
“Fuck, yes,” she gasped, her voice rough now. “Don’t stop, Harry. Give it to me.”
Harry gritted his teeth, his hands tight on her hips as he pounded into her, each stroke harder than the last. The sofa groaned under them, the cushions shifting, but neither cared. All that mattered was the pace, the heat, the raw noise of their bodies colliding.
“You take me so well,” Harry muttered, his breath hot against her ear.
“Because I want it,” she shot back instantly, her eyes blazing as she met his thrusts. “I want all of it. Fuck me harder.”
He growled low, grabbing her by the thighs and flipping her onto her stomach in one smooth motion. Narcissa gasped, clutching at the cushions, before he pulled her hips up and drove into her from behind. The sound that tore from her throat was filthy, desperate, and it only made him thrust harder.
“Merlin— Harry— oh, fuck—”
Her hair was falling into her face as she cried out, her body jerking with every movement. He leaned over her, one hand gripping her shoulder, the other snaking around to press hard against her clit.
She screamed, her body convulsing, clenching tight around him as another orgasm ripped through her. Her voice cracked, but she was still moaning, still pushing back against him like she couldn’t get enough.
“Good girl,” Harry groaned, biting lightly at her neck as he slammed into her. “You love getting fucked like this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she moaned, broken and raw. “Yes, Harry, I love it. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
He didn’t. His pace was savage, his cock sliding deep into her soaked heat again and again, until she was shaking, begging, whimpering his name into the cushions.
When she collapsed forward, trembling, he hauled her back up, his hand tight on her throat as he fucked her harder, the sound of their bodies echoing off the walls of the refurbished living room.
“You’re mine tonight,” he growled into her ear.
“All yours,” she gasped, her voice wrecked. “Fuck, Harry, I’m yours.”
And she came again, screaming his name.
Harry had her bent over the arm of the sofa now, her hair spilling down her shoulders, her moans already echoing around the room. He’d just pulled out, his cock slick and hard, and Narcissa twisted her head to glance back at him, her lips curling into a wicked smile.
“You want to know a secret?” she panted, still breathless.
Harry raised an eyebrow, his hand gripping her arse. “Go on.”
She bit her lip, eyes gleaming. “I’ve always preferred it… here.” She arched her back deliberately, tilting her hips to make it obvious exactly what she meant.
Harry groaned low in his throat, his grip tightening. “You’re fucking serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” she shot back, her voice husky. “Come on, Potter. Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
That was all the invitation he needed. He spat into his hand, stroked himself once, then pressed the head against her tight ring. Narcissa let out a sharp gasp, clutching at the sofa arm, but she didn’t pull away. She pushed back.
“Merlin—” Harry muttered, slowly pushing into her. The stretch was tight, almost painfully so, but Narcissa moaned loudly, her body trembling as she took him in inch by inch.
“Fuck— yes—” she cried out, her voice raw. “More, Harry, give me more.”
He gritted his teeth, pushing deeper until he was fully buried in her arse. Narcissa screamed, half in shock, half in pleasure, her nails digging deep into the fabric of the sofa.
“Good girl,” Harry groaned, grabbing her hips and pulling back before slamming into her again.
She sobbed out a filthy moan, her whole body jolting with the force of it. “Oh god— yes— that’s it, Harry— fuck me there—”
The pace turned savage, Harry pounding into her back door relentlessly, his hands tight on her waist as Narcissa cried out, every thrust dragging another shameless scream from her throat.
“You love it,” Harry growled, sweat dripping down his chest.
“Yes— yes, fuck, I love it,” she wailed, pushing back against him, taking every inch. “Harder, Harry, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
The sound was obscene — skin slapping, her cries breaking into ragged gasps, the sofa creaking under them. She came again, violently, her body shaking, her voice cracking as she screamed his name, but Harry didn’t stop. He fucked her through it, his thrusts unrelenting, until she was collapsing forward, her face buried in the cushions, still moaning like she couldn’t get enough.
When he finally pulled her head up by her hair, her eyes were glassy, her lips parted, and she whispered hoarsely, “More.”
Harry had Narcissa pinned against the wall now, her back arched, her legs locked tight around his waist. Sweat dripped down both their bodies, the fire still roaring in the grate, though neither of them cared about the heat.
He was buried in her arse still, driving into her hard enough to make the wall shake. Narcissa screamed his name, her voice hoarse, her nails dragging down his shoulders hard enough to leave welts.
“Yes— fuck— yes, Harry!” she sobbed, her head tipping back. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—”
“I’m not stopping,” he growled, slamming into her, every thrust rougher than the last.
Her cries were raw, broken, but desperate for more. She clung to him, every inch of her body alive with it, shaking with every movement.
He pulled out suddenly, spinning her around, and before she could even catch her breath, he shoved her down onto the dining table. Plates rattled, cutlery clattered to the floor, but Harry didn’t pause. He spread her wide and slammed into her pussy from behind, the sound obscene, the force shaking the wood beneath them.
Narcissa screamed, grabbing at the table, her knuckles white. “Yes— oh god yes— ruin me, Harry!”
And he did. His pace was merciless, hammering into her so hard the table scraped across the floor. Her voice cracked as orgasm ripped through her again, her body clenching around him, juices spilling down her thighs.
Harry didn’t slow. He leaned forward, one hand fisting in her hair, pulling her head back so his mouth was against her ear. “You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours!” she cried instantly, her voice ragged. “All yours, Harry, fuck, don’t stop!”
He pounded into her until she was shaking uncontrollably, her screams echoing through the refurbished living room, bouncing off the walls, the fire popping wildly in the grate.
Her body gave out, collapsing onto the table, but Harry hauled her back up, flipping her onto her back. Narcissa was panting, her chest rising and falling fast, but her smirk was still there, shaky and wicked.
“Finish it,” she whispered, spreading her legs wide for him.
Harry groaned and buried himself inside her again, fucking her hard, fast, desperate. The sound of it filled the room, their moans, their cries, their bodies slamming together in the kind of rhythm that couldn’t last much longer.
She came one final time, screaming his name, her body convulsing under him. The sight of her, wrecked and begging and loving every second, sent him over the edge.
With a guttural groan, Harry drove into her one last time and came hard, spilling inside her, holding her down against the table as his body shook with the force of it.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of both of them gasping for breath, the fire crackling, the table still trembling under their weight.
Finally, Narcissa let out a weak laugh, brushing hair from her flushed face. “Well,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, “remind me to stay over more often.”
Harry smirked, leaning down to kiss her rough and deep. “Count on it.”
