The Issue of Mine Enemy

BY : PerfesserN
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 38181
Disclaimer: Okay, okay. I'm NOT JK Rowlings, I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money from writing these stories, I do it because it's fun and other people seem to enjoy what I write - the best of whom write review and tell me when I get it right and


Name: PerfesserN

E-mail address: PerfesserN@hotmail.com

Title: Family Issue

Summary: The platoon party, the party after the party and Bellatrix parties by
proxy.

Categories: Drama, romance, violence (in parts)

Pairings: Bellatrix/Harry, Harry/Marietta, Bellatrix/Harry/Marietta

Chapter 10 – Coming Together

The town of Whitcombe was a small fishing village with six pubs, residents often called Whitcombe a “Quaint little drinking village with a fishing problem.” It was, however, a great place to get away for a few hours on a liberty weekend with the fellow recruits or, if you were a staffer, fellow staff members of your choice. Staff did not fraternize with the recruits and visa versa. Some rule bending was allowed, if a platoon happened to be having a party and some of the staff just happened to be in town it was perfectly acceptable to be seen tipping a few back with the trainees. So it was that Regimental Sergeant Major Moody was seen in his cups with Recruit Platoon Leader Evans and a few of the Recruit Squad Leaders as well as various and sundry other notables.

If members of other platoons wanted to stop in, that was all right too, provided they behaved themselves. Of course, given a few shots of Ogden’s finest, behaving one’s self was a relative term.

Christina Prince, the RPL of A-9-1, First Platoon had heard quite enough thank you about the stellar performance of Second Platoon and she, all seventy five inches and thirteen stone of her, wanted to see what made the RPL of A-9-2 such hot shite. First impression, he looked like a kid.

“Hey Repple, d’ye even shave yet?” she asked belligerently.

“Once a month, whether I need to or not Repple!” Harry (James Evans) replied in good nature. The raucous laughter caught the RPL of First Platoon exactly wrong.

“D’ye think yer funny recruit?” she fumed.

“Only when I dance Repple!” he rejoined.

More laughter and again Prince took it as a personal affront.

“Wanna dance w’ me, pretty boy?” at this point she was in his face and the room got very quiet. Low murmuring started near the two platoon leaders and a circle formed; a fighting circle.

One of the staff members in attendance stepped up but was stopped by Moody who whispered in a hoarse voice. “Let em’ be.”

“But she’ll mop the floor with him; look at the size of her.”

“I’ll make ye’ a wager, not only will she not lay a hex or a hand on him, they’ll be best mates by the end of the evening.”

“I’ve got a bottle of 20 year old Scotch says you’re wrong. What d’you got?”
Moody looked at his bottle and said, “it’s green. . .”

RPL Evans looked at Prince, pissed as she was she could hurt him if she could lay a hand or a wand on him, he called out “Yeoman!”

Edgecombe slid over and said “Sah?”

“Be so kind as to take my cloak and my wand?”

“Sah!” she replied taking the proffered items.

Christina Prince looked at ‘Evans’ and asked “what d’ye think yer playin’ at?”

“Not a thing Repple, I just want to be able to move when we dance.”

She ogled him for a moment and said “Bullocks on you!” and pulled her wand. As she did this Harry stepped into her reach and deftly plucked the wand out of her hand then handed it to Marietta as well.

“Hey, gimme my wand back you!”

“You won’t need it, we’re dancing, remember?”

Repple Prince never quite figured out exactly what happened next, but some of her mates told her after she’d had a sobering draught that she had cocked her right fist back to try and ‘bash im’ a good un’ then let her fist fly straight for his head. Evans had grabbed her right fist in his left hand and used her momentum to spin her around twice before capturing her in a hold that was part tango and part Greco-Roman wrestling. Everyone saw him lean forward and say something so that only Christina could hear and the band, as if on cue began an upbeat Latin salsa rhythm and the two would-be combatants started dancing. When the Latin song ended a slow ballad drew the dancers close. When the ballad ended Christina kissed Harry in such a way that he was pretty sure she could describe the size, shape taste and texture of his tonsils. The fighting circle had broken into couples as soon as the ‘top couple’ started dancing and a great time was had by all.

Later, after First Platoon’s people led a dazed RPL Prince off the dance floor, Christina dropped her face into her hands and said “oh shite oh shite oh shite; I remember now, he spun me around like a toy then locked both my arms behind me then leaned toward me and those eyes, those deep green glowing eyes, they just held me fast. He said ‘do you really want to do this?’ and I realized what an absolute twat I was being and I said not really and we started t’ dance.”

Moody went home with a bottle of 20 year old Scotch that night; he gave the staffer his bottle of what ever it was (it twas’ green) because he said it wasn’t very sporting of him to bet on his Repple.

On towards eleven Marietta finally cornered Harry. “Having a good time?” he asked.

“It could be better,” she offered her hand and he laughed and took it and her to the dance floor. She monopolized his dance card for the rest of the night. He offered to walk her to her quarters and she countered; offering to escort him to his own. As soon as Harry closed the door behind them Marietta launched herself at him and kissed him with all the passion she had bottled up for the past two years. Before either of them realized how Harry’s maroon dress cloak was on the floor and Marietta was pulling the shirttails out of his black uniform trousers.

Bellatrix woke just after midnight to a familiar warmth in her loins, and realized what Harry was about to do. On the one hand she had mixed feelings about what was probably going to happen but on the other hand she was a grown woman with many liaisons in her past and he was just beginning to know intimacy. She felt the best way to proceed would be to coax him along, to give him the guidance that would make him a god in the bedroom.

Marietta had only had one boyfriend at school and he had been the quintessential clumsy, selfish adolescent as they had ‘wrestled’ in the back of a thestral’s carriage. That same Hufflepuff git had abandoned her along with everyone else after her sixth year. Tonight she was nervous as a virgin bride but she was also determined to make Harry’s night special.

Harry was thinking “I can’t believe this is happening” and silently prayed to whatever gods were listening to not let him screw this up. He tried to remember all the stuff he had read in Aunt Petunia’s ‘Cosmopolitan’ and some of the more racy stuff that he had found under the mattress of the littlest bedroom at Privet Drive. He was beginning to panic and that would have completely ruined it for both of them when he had a calming thought, “take it easy, take it slow. Let her take the lead and she will let you know what she wants."

Guided by instinct and his as yet unrealized link with Bellatrix Harry was gentle and patient and completely attentive. This evening was going to be for her pleasure; however little or much she wanted. Slowly kissing and stoking down Marietta’s throat he unclasped her robe and let it fall to the floor. She stepped forward away from the discarded cloak leaving her shoes behind as well. His deep green eyes sought permission, and getting it, he unbuttoned her blouse from the bottom up so he could trace his finger tips up her flat belly to the soft yet firm curve in the sheer bra that both hid and enhanced her breasts. When Harry began to kiss and taste every exposed part of her Marietta realized that this is how intimacy is supposed to be, and this boy, no, this man who was younger than she was proving himself to be far older in the ways of physical love.

With one hand he deftly undid the front snap of her bra and nuzzled the lower curve and kissed his way around her pink, sensitive areola. He would have been content to ‘nurse’ at those wonderful grapefruit sized mounds but something was directing him southward. A gentle nudge here and a caress there communicated volumes.

He never initiated anything without first checking with her. After realizing that there was nothing - and she knew to her amazement and delight she meant nothing - she would not beg him to do on his own. She told him, “whatever you want of me is yours Harry, whatever and however for as long as you’ll have me.”

She couldn’t remember at what point he had managed to coax her out of her tight black jeans and into his bed but she remembered his tongue and his fingers driving her over the edge in ways that she only imagined possible. He must have been a musician in a former life because the way he moved those delicious fingers in her wet folds was a symphony unto itself. Caress, press, lick kiss always keeping her on the edge until she couldn’t stand the teasing anymore and then he knew, just knew when to insert two fingers and how to use them to draw out her climax. She could have been content to ride those fingers all night but she needed him inside her, to fill her like never before.

She practically clawed at his uniform belt and trousers until she had the presence of mind to say “off” while trying to persuade him out of the offending garment “off, trousers, now!” she practically growled.

“As my Lady Marie commands” he said and kissed her deeply. Marietta had never allowed anyone to use any derivative of her name but Harry’s use of ‘Marie’ just felt right. She would allow it, hell, in their own bedchambers she would insist on it!

Without breaking his kiss he one-handedly shimmied out of his pants and boxers revealing twenty centimeters of bouncing todger.

“Goddess ‘vive la difference,’” she cooed, “you are going to ruin me for other men!” When he finally entered her it was as though they were two incomplete souls who had been searching for each other forever and were finally completed; re-united by passion.

Bellatrix rode her own fingers to completion in synch with Harry and Marietta several times that night and prayed to the God and the Goddess that they could, in some way, all be together one day.

ooo000ooo

In the original series Star Trek episode “By Any Other Name” Scotty gets into a drinking contest with an extragalactic alien. Completely pissed the alien asks “what is that?” referring the potent potable in Scotty’s hand and all Mr. Scott can say is “its green.” In the Next Generation episode which guest stars a much older Captain Scott, the line is reprised, this time by Mr. Data.
I’ve often remarked that aurors and Death Eaters alike rely too much on magic and potions; I wanted to see at least one group trained in unarmed combat. I know Black Hat Weatherford back at Infantry AIT would agree with me whole heartedly. Sad but true story, I never needed to use my hand-to-hand combat training until I taught high school. Haven’t needed it since I started teaching college. . .


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