Maid for a Day- Part 2

AN: Delays, delays, delays... just feels inevitable this time of year. Still, here's the next part, hope you enjoy and thanks for voting. 

Casting-

Fleur- Alla Bruletova

“Harry, really, you’re being ridiculous! You still haven’t even told us where you were the whole summer! You just show up at the Express as though nothing happened when we were all worried about you!” He was on his bed in the fifth-year boy’s dormitory. His two closest friends, at least until recently, were looming over him as he made every effort to ignore them and just get as much of his work done as humanly possible.

“She’s right, mate… you’ve barely said a word to us in a month!” Ron gestured toward the bed where he had more than one textbook sitting, “And you’ve been a right bookworm since you got back to boot!” He yelped in pain as Hermione smacked the back of his arm, but from the ugly look on her face as she looked at Harry, he doubted she was anymore happy about the change.

It was because he had every intention of completing his OWLs at the end of the fall term rather than the spring term. Because the sooner that I’m done with this place the better. Such a thing would’ve been inconceivable even a year before, but then came a summer in France with Fleur, and maybe for the first time in his life, he realized just how mad his time at Hogwarts had actually been. Just because he was at a magical school didn’t mean that he should be facing near death experiences on an almost monthly basis. Fleur was horrified when she heard.

Efforts were made to transfer him to Beauxbatons, but on such short notice, with an individual of such prominence, it proved too complicated. Once Fudge found himself ousted, the Ministry got directly involved, as did Dumbledore, and it had been blocked. But that was only relevant until such a time as he completed his OWLs. Because as he found out thanks to Dumbledore’s involvement in the matter, he was already an emancipated magical. The best thing the Goblet ever did for me.

Glancing in their direction, he couldn’t help but feel terribly disappointed in the two people he was looking at. While his time with Fleur was amazing, he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t confused and mildly hurt by their complete lack of communication with him during the summer. Not as though I hadn’t just watched a friend get murdered right in front of me.

Of course, their disinterest only lasted until there was a Dementor sighting in Little Whinging, supposedly one of them even got his cousin. Apparently, that had been the straw that broke the camel’s back for Fudge’s administration because it came to light that his Undersecretary had been responsible. He would never claim to like Dudley, but even he didn’t deserve that. And once they all realized that I wasn’t there, it took less than an hour for the first owl to arrive.

Because rather than thinking for themselves about the well-being of their supposed best friend, they decided to listen to Dumbledore, to trust him. Something which Harry had a very hard time understanding the more he thought about where his own trust in the old wizard had gotten him.

“Are you even listening to us?” Her hands were on her hips, and she looked about ready to hex him.

With a sigh, Harry moved the piece of parchment from his lap, “Well, I’m trying not to, but neither of you seem to want to take the hint.”

“That’s incredibly rude…”

“So was ignoring me for an entire summer.” He cut her off before she had the chance to get going. That was always the smartest thing where Hermione was concerned.

“Come on, mate. Dumbledore said…”

“Dumbledore says and does a lot of things, Ron. That doesn’t mean you should just follow him blindly. Or did I miss it and your brain got pulled out from between your ears?” The question left the ginger’s ears burning red.

“Watch it, Potter!”

“Or what?” Harry could have his wand out at a moment’s notice. Jacque had been kind enough to gift him a holster for his birthday over the summer, “Do you think you scare me, Ron? I watched a friend die right in front of me, only to then be used in a ritual that resurrected Voldemort… consider that before you start throwing around threats.” Ron paled slightly at that, but he still looked ready to fight.

Trying to defuse the situation, Hermione cut in, “Harry… you know that Dumbledore was only ever trying to do the right thing.”

Harry just shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe, can’t say I know what’s going on in his head to know for sure. What I do know is that what he thinks is best definitely isn’t always what’s best for me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have spent my childhood with the ruddy Dursleys.”

“Harry…” It sounded like his bushy-haired, at this point, one-time friend was starting to get truly exasperated, “that’s not fair! Dumbledore was only doing his best!”

“Really?” He’d spent the summer talking to Fleur, Jacques, Apolline, and even Gabrielle, and one thing that became evermore obvious upon getting a fresh, unbiased opinions was that very little about what Albus Dumbledore did made any sense, “It was his best to bring the Philosopher’s Stone into a school? Even when he knew that there was someone skilled enough to break into Gringotts trying to get it?”

“But…”

“It was his best to let multiple students get petrified, even though he knew the last time it happened it eventually ended in a student’s death?” He posed it as a question even though it sounded more like an accusation, “Oh! And not to mention he was fully aware that Tom was here the first time around anyway!”

“Well… he still did his best to fix it.”

He couldn’t stop the derisive snort that escaped, “Right… keep telling yourself that. Of course, then there was the whole situation with Sirius.”

Some of Ron’s anger seemed to have receded, and now he looked more confused than anything, “What do you mean?”

“Dumbledore was Chief Warlock and Head of the ICW… do you really think it was beyond his capability to get Sirius a fair trial once he knew that he was innocent?” Even Hermione didn’t seem to know what to say to that as he watched her jaw tick irritably.

But then he decided to drive a nail into the proverbial coffin, “And then there was last year, when we had a Death Eater teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts.” It was sad to say that Barty Crouch Jr. had actually been one of their best instructors over the years, “Moody was supposed to be a good friend of Dumbledore’s, even was part of the Order during the first war,” He only knew about that thanks to Sirius, “but he still couldn’t tell that he was an imposter?” In all fairness, there were a great many people who dropped the ball in that regard, Harry included, but Dumbledore more than anybody. Really, why didn’t I ever question why he was so willing to help?

“That’s… that’s…” It was a rare thing, leaving her completely speechless, but he’d managed it.

“Of course, I could probably come up with a dozen more examples where Dumbledore’s decisions seem questionable at best, but I think I’ve proved my point.” Ron actually gave a little nod of his head, and he couldn’t seem to meet his eye, “So, now does it make some sense why I might be a little bit peeved with the two of you?”

“But…”

“No, Hermione.” While he wouldn’t try and pretend that his two friends hadn’t been there for him in some of his toughest moments, they were far from perfect, and this really had him questioning their friendship, “You don’t get to decide how I feel about this, or when I’m ready to talk to you, or what I’m willing to forgive, and most importantly, you don’t get to decide how I live my life. So, kindly sod off.” He managed to tell them off without raising his voice, and even managed to finish with a cheery smile.

Hermione didn’t take that well one bit, but before she had a chance to continue annoying him, there was a heavy flapping of wings as Hedwig landed on the small nightstand beside his bed. The window next to his bed was open just so she’d be able to get in. His lovely snowy owl had a letter tied neatly to her leg.

A letter that, for some insane reason, Hermione thought it was okay to try and take from her. Click. Click. Click. Hedwig snapped at her fingers hard, and barked at her before the girl finally had the good sense to pull away.

“Oh, and you don’t get to just look at my mail either, Hermione. Now seriously, sod off!” It wasn’t surprising that she was willing to fight with him to the bitter end, but Ron seemingly saw sense. Before she had the chance to start yelling again, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the door.

“There’s no dealing with him when he’s this stubborn.” The ginger sounded resigned more than anything, “Might as well just leave him be.”

With the two of them finally gone, he was left in peace. Turning to Hedwig, he scratched her right in her favorite spot as he undid the letter, “Not too bad a flight I hope, girl.”

His ever-expressive owl gave a sharp shake of her head as she nipped affectionately at his fingers. It was a far cry from the way she treated Hermione only a few moments earlier, “You’re only saying that because she probably gave you half a dozen treats before you left.”

The bird didn’t even try to deny it. Not that he was any better as he reached into his drawer to retrieve another treat for her. With Hedwig satisfied, he turned his attention to the letter. It smelled like Fleur, and that alone was enough to make him smile.

As he opened it, a picture fell out and landed face down on the bed. Just seeing her neatly looping letters on the page was enheartening. As he read about her job offers and how much she missed her sister, he grabbed the photo and turned it around. Of course, it was a photo of Fleur.

She was in her bedroom wearing a very familiar shirt. It was his third year quidditch jersey. Considering this summer was the first time he saw a proper growth spurt, it fit her gorgeous, womanly figure rather snugly.

As he watched, the Fleur in the photo blew him a kiss, and threw in a little wink as she turned away from the camera. The jersey only just fell below the curve of her heart-shaped behind. When she went to lay down on the bed, he found out that the jersey was the only thing she was wearing.

The sight of her pristine pussy was enough to leave him hardening in his trousers. Fleur wasn’t done teasing him though, she bit her full lower lip between her teeth as she leaned back against the bed. As she started spreading her legs, her hand skimmed along her stomach and just as he was going to see that tight pink slice of heaven, she covered it with her dainty digits. The picture giggled with no sound, but then it was caught in a moan as she flexed her middle finger and buried it into her sex. With one last wink at the camera, the picture started right where it began.

Harry could only watch it play out again, unable to take his eyes away. Bloody hell, I can’t get out of here fast enough.

“Alright, Mr. Potter, that’s all for the conventional portion of the test, however there is one more thing that might better your score.” Griselda Marchbanks was a stern old witch who had clearly been doing this for a very long time, “It has come to my attention that you are capable of a corporeal Patronus. Could you please demonstrate?”

Pulling up a memory to fuel the spell was easier now then when he first learned it, Fleur had made sure of that, “Expecto Patronum.” The stag that leapt from his wand would have been capable of driving away hundreds of dementors, just like that day at the end of third year along the Black Lake. Prongs cantered around the testing room twice and bowed before Marchbanks before Harry cut the spell.

“Very good,” She smiled at him, “And now that your testing is concluded, I must tell you that was a most exceptional display.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Harry appreciated the praise, but there was something more important to his mind, “So… I’ve officially completed my OWLs, right?”

“Of course, since only yours are currently being graded, you can expect your results within the week.”

“I’ll be looking for it, and thanks again.” With that, Harry was out of the room quicker than his Firebolt. He expected the Ministry to cause problems, but since Amelia Bones had been made the new Minister for Magic back in October, they seemed content to leave him alone.

Dumbledore was another matter, but since he was no longer Harry’s magical guardian, there was very little he could do about it outside of Hogwarts. So, as he made his way out of the Educational Department, he headed directly for the Department of International Portkey Control.

At the desk, there’s was a woman who looked vaguely familiar. From the name plate on her desk, he would wager that it was Marietta Edgecombe’s mother, “Excuse me, but there should be an international portkey waiting for me.”

“Of course, name?”

“Harry Potter.”

She looked up briefly from what she was doing, eyes shooting to his forehead, but she made no further comment, “Right, I see you here. Just a few minutes to spare it would seem. If you’ll just follow me.”

It was a rather well-organized system all things considered. He was led down a hallway to a separate room designated specifically for departures. There were three witches and another wizard in there already, surrounding a chain. The other wizard nodded his head in his direction, and one of the witches smiled at him, but no one said a word.

It was maybe a minute later that they were directed to take a hold of the chain. The unpleasant hooking at his navel followed and a few short seconds later, he found himself landing on solid ground again. He only just managed to avoid making a fool of himself and falling face first into the ground, “Welcome to France.” A short gentleman with a neatly trimmed beard greeted them as they landed, “If you’ll follow me.”

The entire process didn’t take more than half an hour, and by the time he was done he was heading for the streets of Callais. He only needed to find a secluded spot before he pulled out a silver locket. Opening it, he revealed a bright green stone inside. The moment he took it into his hand, he felt that horrid hook at his navel again, but it was hard to be irritated about that fact because when he landed, he found himself standing near a seaside home, one that he’d been longing to see again for almost four months. The air was crisp in the winter but still very pleasant as he made his way up to the house.

When he reached it, the door opened at his touch. It seemed like everything was quiet, like there was no one home, which confused him to say the least. Fleur had sent a letter nearly every day in anticipation of his final bit of freedom and had checked multiple times to ensure she knew when he’d arrive. That, along with the fact that Sirius, at his urging, had gone to France meant he was at least half-expecting a rather uproarious welcome. Still, he didn’t have it in him to be disappointed, he was just so happy to be back in France.

Heading to the stairs, he made his way up to the room that had been his during the summer. The door was closed when he reached it, and he pushed it open without a second thought. A breathy moan reached him first, and then needy, whispered words, “Oui… oui monsieur… right zere.”

The gorgeous young woman was in a familiar outfit, one that he often fantasized about at night. The black and white maid’s outfit, that left so very little to the imagination, looked just as incredible on her as it had their first time together. The sheer white material that normally would have covered her perfect bust was pulled down. Two of her fingers tweaked her exposed, rosy, red nipple.

Her eyes were closed, and her brow knitted up in concentration as little moans escaped every time she pumped the handle of a feather duster between her plump pussy lips. Harry’s trousers became significantly tighter as he watched the lewd sight. In the months they’d been apart, his girlfriend relentlessly teased him. At least once a week, he received another tantalizing magical photo, and the end result was inevitable.

He wanted to fuck her cross-eyed with pleasure until they both could barely remember their names. And since they were alone in the house when he arrived back, he would wager that she was hoping for the same thing. Leave it to Fleur. Gods I fucking love this girl.

Quietly, he made his way over to the bed as she kept ramming the handle into her hole. There was some of her creamy girlcum in a ring around it, and the room was filled with the sweet aroma of her arousal, “Oui… oui… so good, monsieur.”

Harry’s fingertips ghosted along the inside of her thigh, so light that she might’ve thought she was imagining it, even as she shivered at his touch.

When he reached her thigh, he squeezed and her eyes snapped open. Whether she already knew he was there or not, she did a good job of making it seem like she was genuinely surprised as she tried to close her legs and cover up from him, “Monsieur…I… I… I’m sorry… it’s not what it looks like!”

Harry squeezed her thigh again, and gave her a confident smile, “Really, Miss Delcour… I find that hard to believe.” If she wanted to play a little game, he was more than happy to go along with it. Can’t honestly think of a better greeting.

Her cheeks were flushed in equal parts embarrassment and excitement. His hand drifted higher along her thigh and his thumb just grazed against the edge of her pussy lips. Her eyes fluttered and her breath hitched as she tried to explain, “I was simply cleaning your room… I swear!”

“That’s not what it looked like to me,” He took hold of the handle lodged in her cunt, right at the very end, the feathers filling his hand, “It looked you were being a naughty, depraved little slut… pounding away at your horny little fuckhole… all while thinking of me.”

Squelch. There was no denying it, not with the lewd sound that came from her tiny slit as he buried the handle in her snug sex. Breathing deep, Fleur couldn’t suppress the satisfied moan that bubbled up out of her throat as she looked up at him with adoring eyes, “Oui…”

She reached for the front of his trousers, her palm pressing against the obvious bulge there. But Harry stopped her, “No, I want you to tell me, Miss Delacour.” He increased his pace, her wetness covering the top of his hand, the muscles of his forearm flexing with every movement. She reached down to try and stop him as it became too much, but she didn’t have the strength.

“I ‘ave been a bad maid, monsieur…” She admitted as her back arched and she wiggled her hips, “Every time I’ve come into your room to clean it… I’ve played with myself… I zink of your smell… your touch… your cock… ze way you fill me… I just cannot ‘elp myself, monsieur!”

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it.” Letting go of her hand, Fleur took the opportunity to lower the zipper of his trousers and fish out his leaking manhood. She leaned in with her beautiful, bowed lips and kissed his urgent purple dome. Her tongue parted his slit, and she pulled the precum right out of him. With one hand resting on her silver tresses, he gently thrust into her willing mouth as he drove her closer to her peak.

“That’s it…” He encouraged her, “Get me ready to fuck your perfect little pussy.”

Fleur whimpered low in her throat, sending wonderful vibrations through his length, and her hips flexed off the bed as she came around the intruding handle. There was a wetness around his hand as she squirted violently, so hard that she pushed the handle out. Her explosive orgasm covered the sheets beneath her bum as her taut tunnel kept flexing around something that wasn’t there. Harry found her oversensitive nub and flicked across it to prolong her extasy. It seemed like Fleur briefly lost all control of her body as she twitched uncontrollably, another little stream of her girlcum leaked around his slippery digits.

When she finally came down from her high, she kept gently bobbing her head on his cock as she looked up at him almost reverentially with her striking blue eyes. As lovely as that was, he needed something more in that moment. He missed being inside of her, being buried in the deepest parts of her, feeling her shudder around him.

Pulling back, she gave his tip one last kiss as he popped free. She giggled a second later when he took her by the hips, spun her round and dragged her to the side of the bed. He flipped up the short skirt to reveal her perfectly heart-shaped bum. Smack! Her bottom jiggled with the impact as he took a firm squeeze of her. His thumb grazed against the crinkled skin of her tightest hole, and it winked at him almost instinctively as some of her sticky cum leaked down the inside of her thigh.

It was such a wonderfully sensual sight that there was simply no way that he could resist. He wasn’t going to make her beg, not when he wanted it far too much. Taking himself in hand, he slapped himself against her clit once, making her jump, before nestling his cockhead between her bare, plump lips. They moaned together as he filled her with every inch of his length.

When his hips hit the swell of her arse cheeks, she allowed herself a giddy giggle and finally lapsed from the character she’d been playing, “You don’t know how much I’ve missed zis, mon amour.”

Harry chuckled as his hands went to her slim waist and he gave her an affectionate squeeze, “Are you sure about that? I think I know exactly how much you missed this! Or did you forget about the photos?”

Turning to look back at him, she had a lascivious smirk on her lips as she squeezed down with her cunt muscles, “I couldn’t ‘ave you forget about me, could I?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more ridiculous thing in my life.” To prove his point, he started thrusting into her perfect pussy. It felt divine to be with her like this again. Not just because he’d missed the sex but because he’d missed her, too. He felt that much better just for being with her.

Clap… Clap… Smack… Harry pounded into her steadily, moving his hips in just the way he knew that she loved. Her clutching cunt was overwhelming, so hot and wet, and fitting perfectly against every vein of his rigid length. They moved against each other with a practiced ease that left them both moaning out their bliss. His girlfriend was on a hair-trigger, so pent up from their months apart and it took all his willpower not to follow her in that sweet release.

Taking just a moment, Harry stood utterly still as Fleur threw her jiggly booty back against his hard body. The way she moved her hips was a thing of utter beauty. The slight twist at the end added that extra bit of truly wonderful friction, the flex of her sweaty back muscles with each movement, the impossible arch of her back, her asshole peaking out from her perky cheeks, it was mesmerizing.

But a simple glimpse of feathers, just at the edge of his vision gave him a wicked idea. The feather duster was still covered in her juices, sticky and sweet, and he brought the stiff wooden handle right to her tightest hole.

The second she felt that hardness pressing against her, she looked back at him. Her eyes were dark with unbridled lust. She stilled, and wiggled her bottom, inviting him, “Do it, monsieur.”

Even though it was quite narrow, at least compared to his girth, it was still a tight fit. Her asshole was impossibly tight. Fleur relaxed enough that he managed to pop it in, and she groaned, grabbing the sheets in a white-knuckled grip, “Oh merde!” With every bit of it that he pushed into her, he could feel the handle pressing against the top of his cock.

Her already impossibly tight twat became even tighter. Her ass flexed involuntarily, as her pussy squeezed him in a mini-orgasm. With her face buried in the sheet, Fleur begged, “Please ‘Arry… fuck me… it feels so good!”

With reckless abandon, he ravaged her body, driving her quickly into another mind-addling peak. Her asshole pulsed and tried to push out the invading handle but he didn’t allow it! Her entire body flushed as she let out a primal scream as he kept pushing and pulling on the feather duster in time with his own motions.

Her pussy rippled in a truly inhuman way, massaging his prick in a way that was impossible to resist. He thrust hard into her, his body draping over hers, his abs pushing the duster snugly into her ass as he took hold of her hips and buried himself into her sex. Fleur’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as she chanted out a breathy, “Oui… oui… oui!”

With a growl the first rope of his thick cum bathed her womb white. The needy whimper that escaped Fleur as she wiggled against him, desperate for every drop, only spurred him on. Every muscle in his body was tight as he dumped a truly prodigious load into her eager pussy. His cock bucked and recoiled inside of her over and over for what should’ve been an impossible number of times. But with her, he always managed something ridiculous. She’s just that much of an inspiration.

When he was finally finished, he kissed the side of her neck as he rubbed the side of her arm lovingly, “I missed you… so much.”

“I know, mon amour. I missed you, too.” Fleur glowed with joy.

“Couldn’t ask for a better welcome back.”

“It took some convincing, and some lying on my part.” She giggled as he pushed up on his arms so that he wasn’t crushing her.

“Yeah…”

She nodded as she spun around to look at him, her blonde tresses somehow perfect despite what they’d just done, “I might’ve told my parents and Sirius zat you were arriving later zan you really were… and convinced zem it would be a good day to go ‘ouse searching for Sirius.”

All Harry could think to do was kiss her. Much as he was looking forward to seeing everyone, he wanted a moment alone with her more than anyone. The kiss deepened, but another round proved out of the question when they heard the door open a few short minutes later.

Harry pulled back and smiled at her, “So, should we go say hello to everyone else?”

“Oui,” Fleur agreed, “Zough, it would probably be best if I changed first.” They shared a laugh before she hurried out of his room and back to her own to put away the maid until another time.