The Benefits Of Naivety

The Benefits of naivety

3. A happenstance or what?

Harry regained his feeling. The empty nothingness gave way to jarring reality. He groaned, His eyes heavy, like someone had glued the eyelids together. Throat parched and body feeling like led, the young wizard moaned, squinting at the semi-darkness of his resting place. 

The smooth covering on his body caressed his frame and Harry burrowed himself in the plush bed beneath, the mattress softer and more comfortable than the one in his dorm room. The dimly lit room was filled with the scent of wood-fire burning and a hint of something sweet, perhaps vanilla. 

The realization came slowly. 

This wasn’t his bed, neither the sterile pale surrounding of the Hospital wing. Where was he?

“Fret not, Harry, you are still in the three broomsticks. The room above the pub, to be precise.” 

Headmaster soothing voice came from the foot of his bed, and Harry jerked awake, almost tumbling out as a sudden dizziness took over him.

“Professor, where…what happened?” Harry croaked, putting on his glasses that were on the bedside table. “Last I remembered…” He trailed off, his recollection making him wince. 

“You gave us quite a scare, especially Ms. Granger. Tumbling out of your table like that. Thankfully, Rosie send a word to me immediately.” Dumbledore seemed quite nonchalant with what happened to him, as if a killing attempt at his life was nothing to sneeze at.

With all the time he had put himself in mortal peril, maybe the old wizard had learned to cope with it? Though all his previous near death events were because he had shoved his nose where they didn’t belong. But today, he had kept his nose clean, not trying to save everyone from the threat of the dark lord or an innocent person from a fate worse than death. The only conflict he had was with that blond ferret…

“It was Malfoy!” He flung the cover off his body. The only reason he hadn’t sprung on his feet was because he was still feeling quite wobbly and wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t face-plant by that action. “He tried to poison me!”

“Pardon?” Dumbledore said, stroking his beard, while he fumed. “That is some serious allegation you are levying on Mr. Malfoy.”

“I know it. He came to gloat at my table, saying that I should enjoy my last meal.” Harry said, fidgeting as much as he could while sprawled in some unknown man’s bed. “That bastard tried to kill me this time.”

Harry’s blood ran cold at the realization. He had always treated his rivalry with the blond more like a nuisance, like a gum that wouldn’t come out of your shoe but if the blond had escalated their encounter to such a degree, then—His hands bunched against the silk sheet, promising retribution to the ferret the next time they met.

“I think you are mistaken, my boy. You weren’t poisoned.”

The wind in his anger faltered before tapering off as Headmaster’s words registered in his mind. If he wasn’t poisoned, then what the hell happened to him?

“Someone put a lot of muscle relaxant on some of your food.” Headmaster informed, “Usually that potion is always administered in small doses, and that is in some truly rare cases, but to ingest so much… your nervous system simply shut down to cope with the overdose.”

“No doubt Malfoy chickening out with something lethal.” Harry muttered angrily, glaring at the small bedside lamp. “Probably got cold feet at the crunch time.”

“I assure you, Mr. Malfoy had no hand in your unfortunate accident.” When Harry stared at the bearded wizard bewilderingly, the headmaster was quick to explain. “Ms. Granger told us about your altercation and he was questioned by a staff member where he swore about his innocence.”

“Who questioned him, Snape?” Harry spat.

“Professor Snape, Mr. Potter and no, Severus wasn’t the one to do it. It was Minerva.”

Harry shut up hearing that. Professor McGonagall’s stare was frightening, even for the Weasley twins. No doubt the coward Malfoy wouldn’t last ten seconds in front of that glare.

“Then who plotted to kill me?”

“I assure you, Mr. Potter, even though you may feel like it, this was nothing more that someone playing a prank on you. Maybe someone’s idea of a practical joke.”

“Seriously? Do you really believe that?” Harry couldn’t help but ask. If that was someone’s idea of a prank, then what would count for a murder attempt in Headmaster’s eyes? 

“As you were not in mortal danger, the search for the culprit has been called off.” Professor Dumbledore put up his hand, stalling him before he had even had the chance to open his mouth. “You will be right as rain, after a good night’s sleep.”

Harry tested his limbs, jittery and weak, and raised his eyebrows.

“Here, drink this.” Professor Dumbledore put forward a vial of pink liquid, urging him to gulp it down. "Madam Pomfrey has thoroughly examined you and assured there are no lingering risks or complications."

Harry took the potion, wrinkling his nose. Uncorking the vial, he finished the concoction in one go, brows furrowing when a strawberry like taste greeted him instead of the usual disgusting taste of Madam Pomfrey’s potions.

“You’ll be feeling better soon, my boy,” said the headmaster, his mustache quivering as he rose from his chair. Harry, realizing for the first time, noticed that Professor Dumbledore had been avoiding direct eye contact throughout their entire meeting. He probably felt embarrassed about their last encounter, Harry thought, trying to console himself. It couldn’t have been easy for the headmaster to face a student after that mishap and making a fool of himself.

When the old wizard turned around to depart from the cozy room, Harry had the sudden epiphany. “Wait, headmaster, what… whose room am I in now? Won’t they be upset about my presence here?”

Professor Dumbledore had just opened his mouth when the heavy wooden door behind him clicked open, causing a sharp intake of breath from Harry. The aged wizard turned at the sound, his long robes swirling around him. 

“Good evening Rosie,” Dumbledore greeted warmly, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. “I hope you don’t mind me extending my presence here for a bit longer?”

“Not at all, Albus,” Madam Rosemerta replied, her voice smooth and sultry. “I’m sure Mr. Potter here would have been spooked by waking up in an unknown place.”

“Quite right,” Dumbledore nodded in agreement. “But now that Harry here is awake and alert, I hope you don’t mind hosting him for the night. I’m afraid he won’t be able to travel after the incident.”

Madam Rosemerta’s eyes shifted towards Harry, her gaze filled with mischief, and she flashed him a saucy smile. The flickering candlelight danced off her golden locks, creating an alluring glow. “Albus, don’t worry,” she purred. “Harry, here, won’t be able to forget my tender ministrations.”

Harry’s heart raced at her words, a mixture of anticipation and nerves coursing through him. He could feel the warmth of the room enveloping him, the air heavy with a tantalizing mix of magic and desire. Professor Dumbledore bid them farewell before leaving the room, his footsteps fading as he descended the staircase. As soon as the headmaster’s presence vanished, Madam Rosmerta gracefully waved her wand, causing the door to shut with a loud click, enclosing them in an intimate space. Harry’s mind raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

‘Oh, fuck!’ he thought, his body tingling with a newfound anticipation.

The gorgeous older witch prowled toward him, her pink, full lips twitching. “You know, it doesn’t look good—a customer falling out of his chair in my establishment. People may get the wrong idea.” Madam Rosmerta whispered, looming above his bed. Her previously worn bodice and blouse were still in place, barely hiding her puppies. The exhaustion from the day had made her sweat, making the deep cleavage glisten enticingly. The color of the blouse matched her pale creamy skin and Harry was sure anyone seeing her for the first time might have mistaken that she had only worn her bodice and not the inner blouse.

“Sorry about that.” Harry said, having trouble keeping his eyes to her sea-blue ones. Her blond hair that some days fell like ringlets around her face was in a high-bun today. Though some locks had fallen from the bun, framing her face and giving her a youthful look. “Professor Dumbledore refused to listen to me, but I am sure that bastard Malfoy has something to do with today’s incident.”

“Oh? You seem quite sure about that?” Madam Rosmerta asked, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arched. “Isn’t it childish to insist on your classmate’s crime after Albus cleared him of any suspicions? Maybe someone had some other plans when giving you that potion.” There was the same naughty smirk that made her the most fantasized woman in the boys’ dorms. 

Hell, Harry doubted there was a single guy in Hogwarts that hadn’t tugged their todger after their first Hogsmeade visit, imagining motorboating the famous barmaid’s huge titties. Harry wasn’t an exception to the rule. But now that he was in an enclosed room with the said witch, he found himself tongue-tied.

“Well…I’m sorry about intruding on here…” Harry barely stuttered out. “Is this your room?” Harry asked hopefully. Maybe the guys in the Hogwarts would be back to in awe of him when the news of his spending a night in Madam Rosemerta’s room would come about. It would be a lot better than their current derision.

“What give it away?” Madam Rosemerta asked, pushing aside the sheet covering his body and sitting at the edge of the bed. Her side profile just emphasized how large her tits were, with the bodice stretched tight around her tits and the blouse a few sizes small. “I admit, my room is quite bare.” She waved her hand to the small dresser that was pushed against the wall to the cupboard that was shut close. Except those items, the room was barely filled, with the open windows inviting the autumn breeze making the burnt red curtains dance. The walls were indistinguishable in the low light of the candles scattered around, giving the save ambiance as the cavern below.

His inspection of the room was halted when her soft palms rested against his bare arms, almost making him jump. Goosebumps erupted over his body, the female touch still alien enough an experience to make him flush. Damn it.. It’s like with Rita all over again.

“You know, Harry, the spare few who had been lucky to see this room in the last two decades had been a lot less interested in the decor of my bedroom and more interested in…” She caressed her throat and ghosted her hands over her bulging breasts, smirking all the way. “Though none of them were this young…” Harry’s eyes bulged, face getting atomic red. “Neither were they this handsome or famous.”

Was she…Was she implying…

Smoke came from his ears as Harry felt faint. Did she want to? The thought made him vibrate out of his skin.

“Oh, dear, you are getting all hot and bothered. Let’s see?” With her pink tongue in between her teeth, she draped her torso over himself and reached for his forehead. “Morgana…You are burning!” Leaning back, she put her hand inside her cleavage and fished out—A butterbeer can? 

“It’s just come out of the freezer. Why not let it cool you down?” The blond giggled, extending the can towards him. 

His hand shook, fingers brushing against hers as he gripped it like his most treasured possession. The can was still cool to the touch but nowhere near its usual chill, no doubt some of the heat of her bosoms had transferred into it. 

Harry couldn’t wait to taste it.

His large fingers encompassed the round can, and Harry swallowed, realizing it was thinner than his cock. Would his cock also get lost in those vast tit-flesh? The smallest of tremors started in his trousers. 

“Thanks.” Harry said, feeling like all of his fingers had turned into thumbs, as he couldn’t open the seal.

Madam Rosemerta tut-tutted, shaking her head as blood continued to rush to his face. “Why don’t you take a nap, dear? Maybe you would be back to normal after the potion’s effect wore off? Morgana knows, we don’t want the savior of the wizarding world to get a heatstroke, do we?”

She gently patted him on the shoulder before rising to her feet. As she moved away from him, the intoxicating aroma that seemed to emanate from her body gradually faded, prompting Harry to breathe a sigh of relief. It was astonishing how her scent alone could be so unbearably arousing.

Her short skirt flared as she paused at the door, showing the same cream-colored pantyhose that he had mistaken for her actual skin. “Don’t dream anything naughty in my bed, alright?”

Harry’s ears burned as her laugh echoed in the room. The clacking of her heels gradually got faint, and Harry grumbled at the teasing he had to endure.

Angrily snapping the cap open, Harry chugged the sweet beverage in one breath, burping noisily after finishing it. He took her advice, tugging the silk sheet up over his head and fell back to the bed, his head thumping against the fluffy pillow. 

Maybe not seeing the barmaid’s bedroom and pretending to be in his own dorm would help him fall asleep. But as he took a sniff and the same fragrance of her wafted from his cover, Harry just groaned. It was going to be a long night.

-oOo-

Harry Potter awoke, wrapped in a cocoon of silk sheet. His nose twitched, sniffing the pillow. Barely stifling a yawn, the Potter heir murmured gibberish, wishing the sleep would claim him again. The soft mattress underneath him lulled him back to oblivion and Harry was hard pressed to refuse the invitation. The orange rays of the barely risen sun peeked through the gaps of the dark red curtains, and Harry had the nagging feeling of something missing from his dorm room. After all, snores from his dormmates would usually act like his personal alarm clock in most mornings. Maybe he should check if they were alright. Shrugging off the lethargy clinging to his every muscle, Harry rejected the temptation of another couple of hours of slumber and tried to climb out of his bed.

He had barely shifted his body when two toned arms suddenly snaked around his torso, tightening what he realized was an already death grip. What the? A bit of shuffling underneath the blankets caused the exhausted teenager to furrow his brow in confusion, but his fatigued and sleep-gripped brain finally played catch-up when a shapely set of legs became entangled with his lower body. A thin nose nuzzled against his bare chest, and his face became inflamed. Harry tentatively raised the sheets from his body and gulped at the vision that greeted him.

Long shimmering blond hair cascaded down his body — soft and silky, as if they were woven strings from a recently harvested Acromantula colony. A gorgeous face rested against his pecks with her eyes closed, her long lashes barely moving and the cute nose scrunching at his continued movement. The woman—because that was what she was — not a girl his age, but a full figured woman; opened her mouth a bit and Harry saw those perfect peachy lips, moist and tender, as if begging for a morning kiss. 

She clung to his body tightly, her bra-clad breasts resting over his abs while her naked legs and thighs brushed his skin. Harry’s eyes widened rapidly when he realized the older woman was in just her bra and panties and he himself was just in his boxers. 

What the fuck! He clearly remembered going to sleep last night with all of his clothes on.

Her long, smooth, and pale legs rubbed his own hairy ones, the small, dainty feet gradually climbing to his shins.

His heart raced, blood thundering in his ears. The sensation of having a voluptuous beauty snuggling against him almost in her birthday suit was certainly arousing. His cock agreed, stirring inside his green boxers along with the flood of hormones that his body released, preparing for something that every adult animal in the world partook in. 

Harry gulped, screwing his eyes shut and attempting to shut down his arousal before the flame became a raging inferno. But when exactly he had control over his own hormones? It wasn’t long before his boxers became unbearably snug, restricting his blood flow of his aroused cock.

His hand crept lower, frantically trying to adjust his boxer, but with his one arm pinned by the woman and most of her body draped over his, there was little he could do.

His brief struggle didn’t go as unnoticed as he hoped. Slowly, maddeningly slowly, the blond’s eyes fluttered open, the expressive blue eyes still maintaining their sultriness even though she had just roused from her nap. She yawned, rubbing her nose into his chest, and gradually seemed to gather her bearings. 

Harry was waiting for some kind of explanation on her part, but she just held him even tightly. Her grip showed incredible strength as her toned arm encircled his form more securely.

She finally looked up from his chest, staring at him with those smoky, seductive eyes, a pink flush coloring her pale cheeks. Harry realized it was futile to try and control his erection. Especially not in the seductress’s presence.

“Good morning, sleepyhead… Hope you had a pleasant time in my bed.”

The breathless manner she addressed him made his cock pulse. Her throaty, hoarse tone vibrated near his breastbone, giving a pleasant tingling to his entire body.

“Morning, Madam Rosemerta.” Harry replied timidly, still not sure about finding her in his bed. “Um… not that I mind…but what are you doing in…here?”

Harry cursed the heavens for stuttering like a fool. 

Damn it, Harry. It was her room and her bed. She could sleep on top of you if she desired such.

The busty barmaid sighed, “Call me Rosie, dear. Madam Rosemerta is such a mouthful. And I don’t sleep anywhere except my own bed, but as you were sleeping so peacefully here, I joined beside you. Hope you don’t mind?”

She secured herself on top of him, their body heat mingling together. Her wiggling did wonderful things to her otherworldly endowments. Her abrupt movement stalled, eyes widening when her hips shifted over his pelvis, his hardened erection coming in direct contact with her skin. 

She tensed for a moment, and Harry was just waiting for her to scream and curse him for being a pervert and getting a boner in her vicinity. Thankfully, nothing like that happened.

If anything, exactly the opposite happened.

He held his breath, when the blond shimmed her arms down his broad chest, and reverently traced the solid muscles of his abs and pressed her palms flush against his stomach, just above the waistband of his boxers. Her lips curled up, and she regarded him with a half-lidded, seductive pool of ocean blue.

“It seems something else has also woken up this morning.”

Harry had observed her casting alluring glances at countless classmates, but the hunger conveyed by her mysterious eyes that morning was entirely new to him. The sheer sultry desire was palpable in the air and it prickled his skin. Torrents of goosebumps broke out all over his body, cock aching as excessive amount of blood flowed through the organ.

Her hand sneaked inside his boxer, eyes growing large as her warm fingers curled around his girth. “Well, what do we have here?” Her voice took on a husky quality. The previous desire now inflamed. There was genuine surprise in her features, as if she had come across something truly unexpected. 

“A famous person also sporting something truly exceptional…How interesting…” The blond bit her lips, eying him coyly. “Usually, they are always the most disappointing.”

Harry gave an uneasy smile, pretty sure she was complementing him. Though it did unnerved him a bit that the two honest compliments he had gotten from two gorgeous witches were both regarding his manhood. Not something he could truly take credit for.

“But now that kneazle is out of the bag, let’s put it back inside. Shall we?” 

“Pardon?” Harry asked. Sure, he had heard a similar proverb in the muggle word, but what was madam Rosemerta implying here?

“Maybe I wasn’t clear?” Her voice took an impatient tone. “Scoot up and relax. Let me drain all the juices from your balls.” She worded that like a suggestion, but her eyes and tone made sure that it was a demand. A demand that Harry was more than willing to comply.

Sure, the thought of doing something carnal with her had crossed his mind a few times after learning that he was resting on Madam Rosemerta’s bed. But that was fantasy, but this…

Sometime reality can be even better than your imagination.

And nowadays, a lot of his fantasies seemed to have been coming to fruition. Maybe fate was balancing its act for putting him through this farce of a tournament.

The blankets were chucked somewhere in the room. And Harry couldn’t do anything as the blond made herself right at home, between his muscular thighs.

Her near naked body was a feast to his eyes, the breasts bulging in the black bra and a toned abdomen crunching as she scooted over him. The open windows should have invited the early morning chill, but the voluptuous barmaid’s proximity and body heat prevented him from feeling even the slightest bit of chill. 

Madam Rosemerta obsessed over the upper part of his thighs, the tips of her fingers trailing across his skin, making him quiver. She pressed her lips to his inner thigh, lingering at the juncture of the boxer and the skin. Her eyes remain locked to his face, a smirk curling in her full lips.

“If only the Witch Weekly could see the famous savior right now,” she said with a giggle. Trailing kisses up, eventually she came up to his boxers. The ridiculous bulge blocked her path, and she stared at it, eyes crossing to keep the entire length in her vision. She giggled again as her fingers pushed against the head, teasing the clothed erection and watching it throbbing inside its prison.

Harry’s eyes crossed when suddenly she buried her nose into his crotch, nuzzling his boxer fabric and giving it open mouth kisses. Her long fingers slipped under his waistband and without preamble, she yanked them down.

“My..my…What a sight for the sore eyes.” Even though she portrayed confidence, her eyes had widened to dinner plates, mouth hanging open as his cock stood there in all its glory.

The humongous, vein-riddled shaft throbbed against her gorgeous face, almost blocking Harry’s view. His cock jerked in open air, trying to stand up before thwacking on her scandalized face repeatedly, like trying to play her pristine face as a drum. The quivering of his enormous member cast a shadow on her face and she finally let out a nervous laugh, her earlier swagger mellowing out somewhat. 

To somehow stuck the most fantasized witch in the Hogsmeade dumb with his endowment—his bulbous, rotund tip leaked pre-cum in abundance at the realization.

His testicles jumped inside their sack; big, plump, boiling with his semen.

He felt a sense of déjà vu, seeing madam Rosmerta getting equally spellbound, just like another clever blond.

Though the feeling quickly changed into embarrassment when she kept gawking at his aroused dick, admiring it with aplomb.

“Madam Ros—Rosie, please?” Harry wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted her to do. Suck it and lavish it inside her pretty throat or put it between the heaven that was her famous bosom. Or better yet, her no doubt tight pussy, a pussy that the students in Hogwarts would kill to get a glimpse just once.

His whining broke some kind of spell and she shook her head, the same mysterious glint shining again in her ocean-blue eyes.

“Oh dear, I just wanted to send you back to the school healthy and hearty, not like this backed up. Just like I promised Albus. But this…this requires some special attention.” She breathed, her warm breath hitting the base of his cock and the sparse pubic hair that littered there. She kissed the thick vein running through his cock, humming as she slowly climbed up, following the pinky sized blood vessel. Her warm and soft lips tingled his sensitive glans, and a fat dollop of pre-cum spurted from his cock-head as she continued her ministration. Her lips opened up, and she tried to swallow his uncommon girth, imitating someone taking a lick of a stick of ice-cream and falling. A moan floated, his virile musk emitting from his pubes, filling her nostrils and mind. “Morgana…what is this scent of yours? It is making my knees wobble.”

Her soft but deceptively strong fingers touched the base of his cock, lithe fingers attempting to close around his throbbing organ, and failed to completely encompass the gifted manhood. Her other hand joined, finally fingers finding purchase and closing around the length, cupping the unparalleled cock and emitting a moan. The pulsating length…well pulsed… the desirable barmaid’s mere touch sending spine-tingling pleasure all over him and he couldn’t stop his throaty groan of desire.

Her hands started moving, going all the way to the top, jerking the whole meat before coming down and resting on his groin. Such was his cock’s enormity that she had to use her shoulders to jerk him off, her breasts wobbling inside the bra. She kept doing the process again and again, gradually speeding up.

“Not only this bestial length, but unbelievable stamina as well.” She murmured, as if reminding herself of the fact. “Why, men twice your age cums faster than this.”

His chest swelled with pride at her compliment. But he doubted he could have lasted so long without his recent encounters with Rita. The other blond also had a magical touch.

“I wonder if some lucky girl had the pleasure of playing with this beast. Hmm… maybe your bushy-haired friend isn’t as innocent as she looks.” She said, staring at him in askance. Harry kept his mouth shut, more concentrated on her hands and the pleasure.

“How did she tackle this, though? She is very petite.” Madam Rosmerta kept muttering, “She would be split open with this thing. Or are there any other secret lover of the Hogwarts’ champion that we aren’t aware of?”

Harry still refused to answer, leaving her to her speculation.

“Maybe I will corner your friend the next time and ask for tips.”

“No! I have no such relationship with Hermione!” Harry blurted out. “Please don’t ask her any embarrassing thing.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t deny having a lover.” Harry gulped as Rosie flashed him an enigmatic smile. "Seems like the boy-wonder has a few secrets," she remarked, her tone dripping with intrigue.

She stroked his cock intensely and Harry, still far from bursting his nut, could feel the walls closing around him. The itch in his balls churned, persistent and unrelenting. But suddenly his world collapse when she stopped in mid-jerk, her palms holding onto his length like someone holds an angry snake. 

“What!” Harry’s voice broke. “Why did you stop?” His breathing was high, the expected pleasure washing away with alacrity. “S-start moving your hand, please.”

“Uh-huh. Not so fast, lover boy.” Madam Rosemerta kept her vice grip on his cock. “I would hate to intrude on some young girl’s territory.” She seemed to think that through. “Yes. I should stop this immoral behavior with someone’s boyfriend. Yes. That would be the right thing to do.” 

Harry felt his life flashing when she withdrew her hands from his cock, her face stilled and regretful. 

“Wait…Just hear me out,” Harry’s heart thudded inside his chest, “It was Rita Skeeter. I had sex with her for the last week. Not someone from the school.” He blurted out, only thinking with his dick. “Please, we are just fooling around. You can carry on. She wouldn’t mind.”

A frown fell upon the barmaid’s face. “So that’s the reason she had been writing such glowing things about you. Usually she couldn’t wait to trash any famous person, but in you case…You have been fucking her into compliance.” Madam Rosmerta cast an undecipherable look his way before glancing at his taut and angry pillar. “I admit it is admirable, fucking that annoying bint and making her docile, but I guess some credit also goes to your thing.”

Harry nodded, panting and hopeful, as the busty barmaid hadn’t entirely left him stranded.

“But now I’m doubly sure that I shouldn’t do this.”

“What?” Harry realized he sounded needy. But dammit! It was madam Rosmerta—the woman who had dedicated shrines in her name in all the boy’s dorms. “But why?”

Her thin eyebrows raised as she cast an unimpressed glance. “You blurted out her identity to me with barely any provocation.” Harry gulped hearing that. “Even though you knew that could put both of you in trouble. What if I inform about this to the Headmaster?”

Harry had a panic attack just hearing that. “But…But you aren’t going to do that, are you?”

“Of course not!” A sigh of relief. “But what if you similarly blurt out my name the next time some sow came with her tits bared? I will be in a world of trouble doing this. Not mentioning the hit my business would suffer.”

“I promise I will never reveal about today to anyone.” She just gave him an unimpressed stare. Harry flushed after realizing that he had already shown his weakness to her. “I swear. Please give me a chance.”

His eyes went to her large cleavage, and his mouth watered. Yes. He would keep his promise this time.

“You do realize that it is hard for me to trust you now. Especially with your past record.”

Harry gritted his teeth, a pure determination entering his eyes.

“I will do anything to prove my sincerity. Anything!”

The busty blond’s closed up expression change into a challenging smirk. After watching his cock bob and weave as if channeling his determination, she pointed at his wand.

“Pick up your wand.” Harry followed her command like a loyal pet, without even thinking about the reason for the order.

She sat up straighter between her legs and watched him with a calculating eye.

“Let’s see if you have enough willpower to follow through you words.”

Holding his wand loosely, Harry had a certain epiphany that whatever she had planned for him could be troublesome, or maybe even hard, or maybe both. But when he took in the pale perfect skin of her body, the liquid gold-like hair and enough curves to make even a fertility goddess green in envy, his hold tightened, jaw clenching in determination. 

He would move a mountain to impress her.