Chapter 43

Like Mother Like Daughter (Fleur and Apolline Delacour)

By the end of the week Harry was glad to stretch his legs outside the Burrow. A few days of Molly’s cooking had been brilliant, a few days of Ginny had been even better. He was absolutely shattered, they'd been fucking like dogs.

So when Ginny said she was staying behind to help her mum with something, Harry decided to head into Diagon Alley. He hadn’t bought robes in ages, and after the way his name still carried weight in the papers, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to look the part a little better.

The Alley was busy, but that wasn’t unusual. People glanced at him, whispered, a couple even stopped dead to gawk. Harry ignored it the way he always did, walking straight past the stands of sweets and potion kits until he pushed through the door of Madam Malkin’s.

The bell jingled overhead and the witch herself came bustling out from the back. “Mr Potter,” she said warmly, though her eyes flicked immediately to the few customers already craning their necks to get a look. “What can I do for you today?”

Harry offered a quick smile. “Couple of new sets of robes, if you’ve got the time. But… somewhere private. You know how it is.”

Her gaze softened, almost sympathetic, and she nodded quickly. “Of course, of course. We’ve got a fitting room already in use, but I doubt they’d mind if you stepped in. They’re regulars.”

“Alright,” Harry said, relieved. The last thing he wanted was to stand in the front room while half of Diagon Alley pressed their noses against the window.

She led him down a short corridor and tapped on the last door. “In here,” she said with a smile. “You’ll be fine.”

Harry nodded and pushed the door open, stepping inside without thinking twice.

And then he smiled.

Two heads turned toward him, one of them a mane of blonde hair he recognised immediately. Fleur Delacour. And beside her, older but just as striking, sat her mother.

Harry blinked, caught completely off guard, and Fleur’s lips curved into a slow smile.

“’Arry,” she said in her soft, lilting voice. “What a surprise.”

Harry’s lips curved into another slow grin as Fleur stood up, her hair falling over her shoulder. He’d seen that smile beforem plenty of times in fact, and it always promised trouble.

“’Arry,” Fleur said again, her eyes flicking briefly to the bulge in his trousers before coming back to his face. “It has been too long.”

“Couple of months at most,” Harry shot back, smirking.

“Too long,” she repeated firmly, stepping closer.

The older woman rose from her chair then, and Harry finally got a proper look at her. Fleur’s features were sharper, but Apolline had the same striking beauty, a softness around her eyes that age hadn’t dulled. Her lips curved into a knowing smile as Fleur reached for Harry’s arm.

“Maman,” Fleur said, her accent thicker with amusement, “this is ’Arry Potter, as I'm sure you know.”

Harry’s brow arched, but he didn’t bother denying it.

Apolline’s gaze swept over him slowly, openly, her expression calm but curious. “Yes. I’ve heard.” Her voice was lilting but steadier than Fleur’s, and there was a weight in the way she said it that made Harry’s cock twitch.

Fleur giggled, leaning into Harry’s side. “He is stronger than he looks, Maman. And more famous, too.”

Harry chuckled, slipping his arm around her waist. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Delacour.”

“Apolline,” she corrected smoothly. “Mrs Delacour makes me sound old.”

Fleur smirked, eyes flicking between them. “She does not look old, does she?”

Harry shook his head, his smirk widening. “Not at all.”

The silence that followed was thick but not awkward. Fleur shifted closer, her hand brushing Harry’s chest, her smile wicked.

“You do not mind sharing, do you, Maman?” she asked, her tone teasing but her eyes daring.

Apolline’s lips parted slightly, her eyes still locked on Harry. “That depends,” she said softly. “Is he as good as you claim?”

Harry laughed low, leaning in to brush his lips against Fleur’s neck. “You could find out yourself.”

Fleur shivered, her grin feral as she turned her face to kiss him hard, her tongue sliding into his mouth like it was second nature. Harry’s hand gripped her arse, pulling her tight against him as she moaned into his mouth.

When they broke apart, both breathless, Fleur glanced back at her mother with a triumphant look. “See? I told you.”

Apolline’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes were darker now, her chest rising and falling faster. “Perhaps,” she murmured, her voice low, “you should show me properly.”

Fleur didn’t waste time. She stepped right up to Harry, kissed him hard like they hadn’t missed a beat since last time, her tongue deep in his mouth, her nails digging into his back.

“Merlin,” Harry muttered against her lips, hands sliding down to grip her arse.

She laughed softly, biting his lip as she pulled away. “I missed this, 'Arry,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at her mother. “Maman, see? I told you.”

Apolline didn’t look shocked. She only smiled, slow and knowing, as if she had been expecting this all along. “Yes, you did.”

Fleur tugged Harry toward the sofa, pushing him down onto it. She straddled his lap in one motion, grinding against the bulge in his trousers while her mouth found his neck. Harry groaned, already hard, already desperate for more.

“Merlin, Fleur—”

“Shhh,” she whispered, rolling her hips against him. She looked back at her mother again. “Come, Maman. He’s too much for me alone.”

Apolline’s lips curved into a sharper smile, and she moved closer, her eyes locked on Harry. She reached out, fingers brushing his jaw. “He is handsome,” she said softly, tilting his chin to look at her. “And strong.”

Harry swallowed, his grin crooked. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“Then show me,” Apolline said.

Fleur slid down Harry’s body, unbuckling his belt with quick fingers, pulling his cock free. She stroked him slowly, her grin wicked as she glanced up at him. “Still so big, Harry.”

Apolline’s eyes flicked down, and for the first time her composure slipped. Her pupils darkened, her lips parting just slightly. Fleur noticed, smirked, and without hesitation leaned forward to take Harry into her mouth.

Harry groaned, his head tipping back as Fleur worked him with steady, hungry sucks. Her tongue slid along the underside, her hand pumping what her lips couldn’t take.

Apolline moved then, her hand sliding into Fleur’s hair. “Good girl,” she murmured, guiding her daughter deeper. Fleur gagged once but didn’t stop, moaning around Harry’s cock.

Harry gritted his teeth, watching them, his hips twitching. “Fuck—”

Apolline looked up at him with a calm, dangerous smile. “You like watching her, don’t you?”

Harry groaned. “More than you know.”

Fleur pulled off, spit running down her chin, and smirked. “Then you’ll like this.” She leaned back, letting Apolline kneel between Harry’s legs.

The older woman didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her lips around him, slow and controlled, taking him deep with practiced ease. Harry’s groan was ragged, his hand fisting in her hair as she sucked him hard, her tongue swirling expertly.

“Fuck, Apolline—” he gasped, eyes rolling back.

Fleur climbed back onto the sofa beside him, kissing him messily, her hand stroking herself through her knickers as she watched her mother work.

“Better than me?” she teased against his mouth.

Harry growled, kissing her back hard. “Different,” he muttered, thrusting into Apolline’s mouth. “But fuck, she’s good.”

Fleur moaned at the answer, grinding against his thigh. She reached down, tugging her knickers aside, and guided his free hand between her legs. “Touch me while she takes you,” she begged.

Harry shoved two fingers inside her without warning, making her cry out into his mouth as he fingered her hard, his other hand still gripping Apolline’s hair.

The room filled with wet, filthy sounds — Fleur’s moans, Apolline’s sucking, Harry’s groans as he was worked from both sides.

Fleur came first, clenching around his fingers, her scream muffled by his kiss. Harry didn’t stop, pounding his fingers into her until she squirted against his hand.

Apolline pulled off just enough to gasp, “She’s beautiful when she comes,” before swallowing him down again, harder, faster, making Harry swear loudly as he slammed his hips into her mouth.

He was close, too close, and Fleur saw it in his face. She grabbed his chin, forced his eyes to hers, and grinned wickedly. “Not yet. Save it. We want more.”

Harry then stood up off his sofa, and conjured a large mattress onto the flour.

He looked up at the two women, and said, "So which one of you am I fucking first?"

“Eat my pussy, 'Arry” Fleur said firmly. "I need it."

Apolline looked up at him. “Ruin her.”

Harry’s eyes darkened again. “Alright. Come here.”

Fleur stood slowly, body lean and soft, breathing quick. He stepped in and kissed her — not rushed, but with weight this time. Her lips parted instantly, and her hands slid up his chest, like she’d been waiting.

He turned her around with a grip at her waist, then gently lowered her to the big floor cushion he'd made.

“On your back.”

Fleur didn't object

Apolloine sat down beside them, a hand finding its way to her nipples, whilst brushing hair out of her face. “You’re shaking.”

Fleur nodded. “You'll understand soon, Maman”

Harry knelt between her legs and ran his hands up her thighs, slow and warm. “You ready?”

“Oui,” she whispered.

He leaned down and kissed her stomach, then lower — trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down to her hips.

Apolline leaned in and kissed Fleur's mouth, soft and slow, while Harry spread her legs wider.

Then he lowered his mouth between her thighs.

Fleur gasped.

Her back arched as Harry ate her out, his tongue firm, focused, steady. He didn’t rush. He found her rhythm fast, kept his hands on her hips to stop her from squirming.

“Mon dieu—” she moaned.

Apolline pulled back from the kiss, watching her. “C'est bon?”

Fleur's hands found Harry’s hair, her breathing already erratic. Her back arched against the cushion, her breath catching in her throat as Harry’s mouth ruined her.

His hands held her thighs steady, thumbs pressing gently into her skin, just enough to keep her still as she shook and twisted beneath his grip.

"Fuckkkk-" Fleur whimpered as Apolline started to finger herself besides them.

Her thighs started to twitch. Her back lifted. Harry felt it coming.

Then her voice cracked. “I’m—oh—fuck—Arry—”

She came hard, hips jerking, thighs squeezing around his head. He didn’t stop — not right away, kept going until she physically pushed at his shoulders, panting, legs shaking under his hands.

Harry sat back on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Fleur was limp on the cushion, chest heaving, one arm flung out to the side.

“Tu est parfait,” she breathed.

Apolline grinned, brushing Fleur's hair out of her face. “Oui.”

Harry stood up slowly, still watching them — one flushed, wrecked girl flat on the floor, and another kneeling beside her, smug as hell.

Apolline looked up at him.

“Fuck me now.”

He raised an eyebrow. And didn't need to be told twice.

She bit her lip, stood, and walked over, putting her hands on his chest.

The moment Fleur slumped back against the cushions, flushed and panting, Apolline stepped into Harry’s spacem pressed her body into his, hands already sliding down his sides, mouth finding his neck.

Harry grabbed her hips hard, pulling her flush against him.

He clicked his fingers and banished what was left of her clothes, leaving her completely naked. She was fucking stunning, similar to Fleur, but with an experience to her. Large, plump breasts headed an hourglass-shaped body, and Harry felt his dick twitch at the sight.

He spun her, backing her up until her thighs hit the edge of the mattress. She hopped up without needing to be told, legs parting to let him stand between them. Her eyes were sharp now — that familiar fire in them — but there was no teasing this time.

Harry leaned in and kissed her — deep, messy, nothing held back. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she pulled him closer with a soft, needy sound in her throat.

“Mr Potter, ruin me.” she said, voice low and serious.

“Yes Ma'am.”

He pushed her back slightly, one hand braced beside her, the other running along her thigh, then between her legs. She was already soaked.

“Fuck, Apolline.”

She grinned, biting her lip. “Oui”

He pushed two fingers into her, slow, deliberate. She gasped, eyes fluttering closed, hips jerking toward his hand.

Fleur, still lying across the cushions, was watching them now, silent, eyes half-lidded, fingers tracing lazy circles over her stomach.

Harry leaned in close to Apolline's ear. “You ready?”

She moaned, head falling back. “Oui.”

He pulled his fingers out, then grabbed her waist and dragged her to the edge of the mattress. She braced her arms behind her, legs still open, flushed and ready.

Harry didn’t waste time.

He lined himself up and pushed into her slowly, both of them groaning at the stretch. Apolline braced, her whole body tensing, breath caught.

“Fuck—” she hissed. “Fuck, yes—”

He didn’t rush. Just started moving — deep, strong strokes, nothing frantic, but every one hitting perfectly. Her head tipped back, her mouth dropping open as he built the rhythm.

“Harder,” she said, breathless.

Harry grinned. “As you wish."

He gave her exactly what she asked for — hips snapping harder, grip tightening on her thighs. She gasped loud, eyes rolling slightly.

"FUCKKKK-".

It had been years and years since a man had truly pleasured Apolline, never like this though.

"FUCKKKKKKKKKK-" She cried out as Harry plowed into her, again and again and again.

Behind them, Fleur let out a soft moan of her own. Harry didn’t look — but he heard it, and it only made him go harder.

“Fuck, Apolline—” he muttered. “You’re so—shit—”

“I’m close,” she choked out. “Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking dare—”

He didn’t. He slammed into her again, again, again—

And she broke.

"FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK-"

Apolline came hard — loud, legs shaking around his hips, nails digging into his body as her body locked up around him. Harry kept moving through it, holding her together while she completely fell apart. . Her chest rose and fell fast, each breath still catching slightly in her throat. Her hands slid slowly down Harry’s arms as he leaned over her, still inside her, his grip strong on her hips.

Harry smiled at the two girls beneath him, and he knew this was far from over.