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Dislocation	By : LinguaMagus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 2823 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own Harry Potter or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Chapter 16:
After uncovering the spy in their midst, the mood was somewhat subdued for the remainder of the night. Hermione immediately cornered Harry with questions about how he was able to identify someone under the Imperius curse correctly and how he had known to look. She made him repeat every word of instruction that Emmeline had given him, to the best of his memory. Frantically, she scribbled notes about all of it, and in the margins, added her own thoughts about how to create a safer procedure using the same ideas. Finally satisfied that he had explained it all the way through, she let Harry escape to his dinner while she worked over her notes intently.
Ariana sat down next to him without speaking, but she rested her hand on the back of his forearm while he ate. He smiled at her, and she gave him a quick hug. “Please be careful. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” she said softly. Then she got up and went to sit with Hermione.
No sooner was she gone than Sirius was on top of him. “That was excellent, Harry. Uncovering the Imperius is no mean feat. I don’t think I could have done better myself. Watch yourself around Molly, though. She’s likely to throw you in a padded cell if you try something like that again.”
Harry shrugged. “It had to be done. I couldn’t risk anyone else trying it. I had experience throwing off the curse, and Emmeline trained me how to control my presence inside someone else’s mind. It just made sense.”
Sirius nodded. “Even so, you know what some of the women are like. They would rather we all just leave the danger to other people and hope everything sorts itself out. War doesn’t work like that, though. You know that, and so do I. Sometimes you have to take action.”
Harry thought he was overstating the situation a bit, but this didn’t seem like the best time to argue about it. He just nodded and Sirius thumped him on the back enthusiastically. Lupin called him away, and then Harry was alone again. He ate slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet for a few moments, and then Emmeline sidled up next to him. He was starting to feel like an attraction at the zoo. If anyone else tried to grab a quick word with him, he was going to start billing by the sentence.
Emmeline didn’t speak, though. She just sat with him. He waited for her to say something, but she just started eating. Small, measured bites. Chewing for several seconds before gathering up the next bite. Harry watched her eat. Watched her pink lips part and sharp teeth gather in the next morsel, only to grind it away. After a moment, he returned to his own food. His hand lay on the table between them, unregarded. Emmeline’s hand lay next to it. Seemingly by coincidence. Neither of them paid any attention to their hands, and it was surely of no consequence that they touched at the edges.
The activity of the room buzzed around them, but they just ate quietly together. At some point, Harry’s hand drifted below the table and rested on her thigh. Not in any particularly lewd or lascivious way, but just as if he wanted a comfortable place to place it while he had dinner. Comfortable, it certainly was. Her hand came down to rest on his, but neither of them said a word. Harry absentmindedly thumbed the seam down the side of her skirt and she ran her fingernails across the backs of his knuckles.
Their quiet little sphere, set apart from the world, had an invisible barrier between them and the rest of the room. Without any spell or magic runes, people just drifted around them, not paying them any mind. Harry scraped the bottom of his plate, trying to stretch the moment until it broke. Emmeline continued with her own dwindling pile of food, but soon it had been reduced to crumbs. They sat next to each other, one small, slender hand resting on one broad, long one.
Then, with a sigh, it was over. She pulled her hand away and picked up her plate. Harry hesitated briefly, then did the same. They deposited their dishes in the sink and rejoined the party, such as it was. Ron was cracking jokes about how Harry should go get a shower to wash away the grease from Lucius Malfoy’s spell touching him, and Harry laughed along. Hermione tutted under her breath at the immature jabs, but didn’t say more than that. Arthur Weasley came in after a while and updated them all on Sturgis’s condition. Apparently Harry’s presence had done no permanent damage to his consciousness. He was pleading to be released and claiming that the curse was gone, but since no actual treatment had yet been attempted, they could safely ignore him for now. In the morning, they would escort him to St. Mungo’s and do their best to talk around how he may have come into contact with an Unforgivable Curse.
There was a round of mildly enthusiastic cheers. It wasn’t a cure, but at least Sturgis wasn’t permanently injured. With things as they were, any victory was worth celebrating. There was also some discussion of revenge, particularly from Fred and George, who wanted to hunt Lucius down and hex him at the next available opportunity. Lupin, however, quelled that immediately.
“Lucius Malfoy is a known enemy. Right now, we don’t have the means to take him out of the picture permanently unless we want to kill him.” There was some muttering about this, but the grudging consensus was that they couldn’t kill him in cold blood. “So anything we do that doesn’t take him out of the picture just serves to exacerbate the situation. Lucius Malfoy may be a dark wizard, but he has powerful friends, and he doesn’t hesitate to put their access to use to get what he wants.”
“So what, we just let him get away with it? He curses one of us, and now he’s just free to go and do it again?” George demanded.
“Not at all, boys,” Arthur said soothingly. “You have to remember, the Death Eaters want to infiltrate, to take over, and to reshape wizarding into their vision. Every time we frustrate an attempt, it sets them back by weeks, if not months. You-Know-Who is not someone who tolerates failure well. We don’t have to punish Malfoy at all because his side will be doing that more effectively than we ever could. The best thing we can do is keep standing in their way and letting them break themselves apart.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, though. Why would the Death Eaters punish their own people over something that we did?” Ginny asked.
“There’s something very important that you have to understand about Voldemort,” Lupin began. “He has risen to authority on the premise that he and his followers are superior in every way to the people they seek to remove. Each instance of failure represents a crack in that premise. We are doing more than frustrating an opponent, we are undermining the very basis of their ideology by proving we don’t need their pureblood ancestry, their forbidden magic, or their loyalty to their Dark Lord to win. We can beat them by just doing the right thing. Voldemort has thus far been able to hand wave away the successes of Albus Dumbledore by marking him as an exception. After all, Albus is a pureblood. He’s just a dangerous traitor. That doesn’t hold when he has to also account for all of us beating the Death Eaters again and again. Because of that, each failure is an existential threat to the existence of their group as a whole. That is why he will not tolerate mistakes like the one Lucius Malfoy made. No doubt Malfoy has been gathering accolades for days or possibly weeks by cursing someone within our very Order. Losing that advantage without a single useful piece of information to show for it will be devastatingly embarrassing to him. Which means, by the way Harry, that you should be extra careful around Draco this year. He will likely want revenge for this humiliation.”
“Remus is right. I want you all to be extra cautious this year. We’re going to be seeing a lot more danger from the Death Eaters now that Voldemort is so close to being able to operate in the open again.” Sirius added.
Everyone nodded obediently, and there was a vacuum of silence. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat finally, and spoke up. “Now, it’s been a big day, and I’m sure everyone is tired. Let’s all go get some sleep. Anything else can wait until tomorrow.”
It struck Harry suddenly that he had forgotten all about the mission to recover the ring in Little Hangleton. The drama of uncovering the curse had pushed it entirely out of his head. Placing his hand at the small of her back, he caught Emmeline’s eye and gestured out of the room with his head. She raised an eyebrow and gave a subtle nod. Harry looked around until he spotted Tonks. She took a moment to notice that he was staring at her, but when she did, she picked up the look on his face quickly and started to politely excuse herself from her conversation with Sirius.
Harry rose from the table, and on his way out, gave Hermione and Ron a pat on the arm and a meaningful look. One by one, they trickled out into the hall. Harry was already ascending the stairs, and a few flights up, opened the door to the boys’ room. Emmeline stood patiently by his side as he waited for the others to reach them. They filed in, he gestured for Emmeline to go inside, then followed her immediately after. He pulled the door shut behind them and cast a quick spell to lock the door.
“So, not that I don’t appreciate a little cloak and dagger, but an explanation would be nice. Is this about your visit to Little Hangleton?” Emmeline asked, a very small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“See, Harry? What did I say? Emmie’s sharp as a needle!” Tonks chirruped.
Emmeline sighed. “That isn’t my name, Nymphadora.” Tonks cringed, and there were a few chuckles.
“You’re right. That’s exactly why we’re here. We know where something is hidden that Voldemort desperately wants us not to find. I want you lot to help me go in, get it, and then destroy it. Although destroying it might have to come later.” Harry explained.
“Right, that much at least was clear from our earlier conversation. What is this thing, and why does Voldemort want it to stay hidden?” Emmeline pressed.
Harry grimaced. “I can’t explain all of it, I’m sorry. The fewer people know the whole situation, the better. What I can tell you is that we’re looking for a ring, and if we destroy it, we’re a step closer to defeating Voldemort for good.”
She stared at him intently for a few moments, then nodded slowly. “Very well. I trust you not to walk us into a trap. So what’s the plan?”
Tonks jumped in. “The simpler, the better. We need to be flexible because we don’t know what You-Know-Who has planned for us. We need two lookouts, one at the road, and the other directly outside the house. Harry is the only one who has actually seen the ring, so he has to go inside. Two others need to go in with him.”
“I’ll stay by the road. I’m pretty hopeless with curse-breaking, but I’m probably the fastest,” Ron spoke up. “If I see Death Eaters coming, I’ll throw up sparks for the person at the door, and then make tracks for backup. Mad-Eye is always spoiling for a fight, right?”
Tonks nodded, “As much as I want to see what all this fuss is about, I better be the lookout on the door. Mad-Eye is going to be our best option for backup, and he’s not going to trust anyone but me.”
Hermione cocked her head, thinking about this, then it dawned on her. “Of course! A polyjuice potion wouldn’t work to become a metamorphmagus. If you can still change your appearance, he knows it’s still you.” Tonks gave her an impressed grin.
“So that leaves me and Hermione with Harry,” concluded Emmeline. “I look forward to getting to work with you, Miss Granger. By all accounts, you’re very clever.” Hermione blushed, but looked pleased.
Harry counted off on his fingers. “I think that’s everyone’s position, then. Once we’re inside, we’ll have to keep our eyes open. He won’t have made it easy to find, but I’ve seen one of his hiding spots before, and he doesn’t try to kill intruders… right away.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room before Tonks finally broke it. “Well, we’ll have to set a safety timer, then. After a certain amount of time, we need to go get backup and come in after you. How long do you think you need?”
“I wish I knew. When Dumbledore and I went after the locket, it felt like it took all night, but we were in and out in only maybe an hour. We could be done in minutes, or still be searching hours later. If we run into something we can’t handle, Hermione or Emmeline will have to break away and go for help. It’s the only way.” Harry said unhappily.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not abandoning you to some curse of You-Know-Who’s, Harry. Whatever happens to you, it’s happening to me as well.” Hermione said stubbornly.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Emmeline said.
“We don’t know what to expect past that,” Harry said, rubbing his scar. “There are going to be protective enchantments and curses beyond anything we know how to prepare for. Working together is going to be our only chance of making it through.”
“Better you than me, mate.” Ron chuckled. Hermione glared at him.
“So when do we do this? It should be soon, right?” Tonks asked.
“I want to do it tomorrow,” Harry said. “The longer we leave it, the more chance Voldemort has to discover that we’re looking for it and move it somewhere we’ll never find.”
“Very well. Tomorrow, then. In which case, we’ll need a good night’s sleep tonight. I’ll stay here for the night. I’m sure I can make up a spare bed downstairs.” Emmeline said. “Mr. Potter, I’d like to discuss a few things with you privately, if you don’t mind.”
Harry saw the concern she was trying to suppress and nodded. “Sure. Okay.” He stood up, kissed Hermione on the forehead and then followed Emmeline out of the room.
Busily, she checked room after room until she found one that she liked. There was an enormous picture window and some decrepit furniture. With a sweep of her wand, she dismissed everything from the room, and then patiently started siphoning away a generation of dust and cobwebs from the corners. Harry stood awkwardly in the doorway until she finished by sending a wave of air through the ancient rug and vanishing away the clouds of dust that arose. In a matter of minutes, the room was perfectly habitable, if uncomfortably spartan.
“Come in, Harry. Please shut the door behind you.” Emmeline said without turning to look at him.
He stepped in, pulled the door shut, and stared at the back of her head for a few seconds before looking around to see if he was missing something. With a few gestures, she called up two very plush and warm looking armchairs and sat down in one. She held out a hand to the other, inviting him to be seated. He shrugged and went to the chair, which was at least as comfortable as it looked.
“Mr. Potter, I have a very important question for you. I need you to answer honestly because tomorrow our lives may very well depend upon it. Can you do that, please?” Emmeline asked seriously.
“Oh, uh, sure. What’s up?” Harry asked, nonplussed.
“Do you have an ace up your sleeve?” She stared into his face, trying to catch any hint that there was more than she could detect. “What I mean is, tomorrow we’re facing curses devised by the most dangerous and cunning dark wizard in generations. I know you don’t believe he will attempt to kill us right away, but I think you understand why that doesn’t exactly make me any more comfortable. If you have some sort of trick, some secret ability that I’m not aware of, I need to know now.”
Understanding finally, Harry nodded. “I get it. The short answer is no, but the longer answer is a little more complicated. I’m not especially talented, I don’t have any secret knowledge that’s going to save us. I basically rely on Hermione to know everything important, and I just sort of luck my way through it.” Emmeline rolled her eyes, but allowed him to continue. “I guess I should probably mention that I have some sort of connection to Dumbledore’s magic, but I don’t really understand it, and I can’t use it on purpose yet. At least not reliably. I’ve been practicing, but I don’t think I’m good enough that we can rely on it in an emergency.”
“A connection to Dumbledore’s magic? I don’t understand. What sort of connection? Minerva explained some of the situation, but I’m still not clear why any of this is happening around you.” She was clearly becoming frustrated with the opacity of the events surrounding Harry’s situation, but curiosity was overriding frustration moment by moment.
He sighed deeply, and just accepting the inevitability of the conversation, he launched into an explanation for what felt like the millionth time of as much of what was happening as he could understand. Emmeline patiently listened and occasionally interjected with questions that Harry couldn’t answer. When he had finished, she narrowed her eyes and sat in intense silence while she chewed on everything he had said.
“So, how far have you tested this new magical aptitude? It sounds like it shows up when you need it, but it’s responding to your conscious need, not your unconscious desires. At least, not to the extent that it’s noticeable. I would think you’d be aware of all your deepest desires coming true around you.” Emmeline said.
Harry just sat dumbfounded and didn’t respond. This was, perhaps, the wrong moment to analyze that particular statement. He didn’t have long to think about it, though. Emmeline was rising to her feet and seemed to expect the same from him. Distractedly, he clambered up and faced her. She drew her wand and kicked off a pair of dangerously sleek heels. His mouth opened in nervous bewilderment. Apparently he had missed some piece of what was happening.
“Draw your wand, Harry. We have to test the extent of your instinctual ability before we go forth tomorrow. I have to know if you are an asset or a liability in an emergency.” Emmeline said in a tone that, in intending no offense, offended deeply.
“We’re going to what? Duel? In your bedroom? Are you sure about this? How does my dueling ability tell you anything?” Harry had his wand out, but he was confused and mildly annoyed.
“This will be a little different from the duels you are used to. I don’t care about your reaction time. I need to know whether you can identify and remove a threat without knowing what it is.” With that, she said no more. Her wand pointed at one of the chairs, and threads of pearly white flew from the tip and buried into the wood of the legs. They wrapped themselves around the wood and seemed to burrow their way inside, leaving not a trace behind. The chair creaked enormously, and then started to walk slowly towards Harry. Each lumbering step thudded against the rugged floor.
He cleared his mind and just focused on stopping the chair from moving forward. Something inside him assured him that destroying the chair would be exactly the wrong decision in this moment, but he suspected that had less to do with Dumbledore’s magic and more a general understanding of how Emmeline wanted this test to go. He held his wand out, but nothing was forthcoming. He closed his eyes and pictured the white threads. Envisioned the way they had burrowed into the wood without scarring or damaging it outwardly.
In a rush, a certainty filled him. The curse was a parasite. It entered the host and slowly consumed them. If that chair touched him, the threads would cross into him, and he would be unable to remove them because they would seize control of his body. He reached out for that thought, trying to make the connection to what he could do about it. He didn’t even know what incantation had been used. He just knew what would happen if it made contact with his skin. He debated a shield charm, but that was just delaying the inevitable. Besides, the chair was moving slowly and avoiding it for now was not the issue.
He thought about worms. Eating their way into an apple, tunneling holes in the sweet flesh. He pictured their wriggling bodies, filling the tight passages chewed out by circular mouths. Then a solution began to form in his mind. A way to eliminate the curse without needing to know what it was. A way to heal the host and destroy the parasite within. He pictured the wooden lion, and changed what he wanted in his mind. The new spell formed on his lips.
“Kleinozylis.” His wand flicked in a zippering motion. The chair shuddered to a stop. It creaked and groaned, the wood popping and crackling like life sped up. Emmeline stood ramrod straight and waited. With a final, heaving rattle, the chair was still. A wisp of silvery-white was squeezed out from between the grains of the wood. Harry watched it with satisfaction. He could feel that the curse had been destroyed.
“How did you know to crush it out like that?” Emmeline asked curiously.
“I’m not really sure,” Harry answered honestly. “I just sort of felt like the curse was a parasite, and I imagined how vulnerable a worm is when it’s burrowing into something. It really doesn’t have anywhere to go. If the tunnel collapses around it, it just gets killed. So I thought, well, if the wood closes in on the curse, maybe the curse doesn’t have a physical place to go.” He shrugged.
Emmeline smiled. “You were, of course, exactly right. Were those your thoughts, or did a part of Dumbledore solve it for you?”
“It’s hard to tell the difference, honestly.” Harry shrugged. “It felt like my thoughts working it out, but I don’t know that spell. Or, at least, I didn’t know that I knew that spell.”
“I just want to test one more thing,” Emmeline said. She stared at him intently, then her wand flashed out and pointed at him. A corkscrew of amber light launched out and shot directly at Harry’s chest.
Before he could think to react, his own wand was forward and catching the corkscrew by the tip. He swung it like a lash, and when he sent it back to Emmeline, it was tinged with blue and gold. Her face barely had a moment to register alarm before it struck her in the stomach and carried her aloft where she collided with the wall and was pinned against it like a lepidopterist’s display. Her limbs were stretched to the four corners and she gasped in surprise and pain.
“O…kay. Point… taken. Can I… come down… now, please?” She struggled to speak as her hands and feet were dragged further from her body along the wall. Her skirt crept past her stocking socks and Harry could see fishnet leggings ascending her thighs. She followed his gaze and flushed with embarrassment. Secured as she was, she had no way of covering herself back up. She pulled against the hex and rolled her hips to try and settle the skirt lower on her legs.
Harry stepped closer. She looked down at him in petrified apprehension. He reached up and put a hand at the small of her back. He pulled her hips forward and she strained against the spell affixing her to a position of such vulnerability. With a swish, he released the spell, and the hand behind her pulled her against him as she fell. She came to rest straddling his hip, held up by the strong arm now wrapped around her waist. In her panic, she had reached out and wrapped herself around his neck and chest. A hungry little groan squeaked out between her lips. Gently, he lowered her to the ground.
He ran his palm down her blouse, smoothing the crumples against her rib cage. Her bright pink lips parted, and a hopeful exhalation slipped out like the first trickle of smoke from a warming chimney. He tucked his wand into his pocket and stepped back.
“If that’s all, I think you should get some rest for tomorrow. We have a big day. I think I demonstrated what you needed.” Harry said, in a voice that was richer, more resonant than she had heard from him before. Almost like the nervous, uncertain boy act was a facade he was forgetting to maintain.
She cleared her throat, but her cheeks were still crimson and she could not meet his eyes. “You did, thank you Mr. Potter.”
With that, he turned and began to walk away. After a few steps, words came tumbling unbidden from her mouth. “Harry! Wait. I wonder if you could… stay?”
— s —
Before she could finish speaking, he was upon her. Cradling the back of her head in his hand, he pushed her against the wall and pinned her hips with his own. His knee levered her legs apart and with his free hand, he sank his fingers into the soft flesh of her thigh. Their eyes locked and her small smile parted as her small, white teeth closed on her lower lip. A moan as soft as a kitten’s purr rumbled in her throat.
“Is this what you wanted, Emmeline?” Harry asked.
“Yes…” She hissed.
“Then ask for it. Tell me what you want me to do to you.” He instructed, with a voice like silk and steel.
“I want you to ravish me. I want to be helpless. Make me your slut. Your bitch. Take me, fuck me, fill me with your cum.” She answered in a tone that grew increasingly desperate.
“What a filthy request for such a respectable woman. What would your colleagues think if they could see you here? Begging for cock from a man nearly half your age.” He tore a gaping hole in her fishnets and slid his hand across the smooth skin beneath, gathering it into his grip and kneading it.
“Uhhhnnnn. I don’t care. They can watch. I’m tired of all the posturing. I’m tired of being their poster girl. I’ll suck your cock on the front steps of the ministry, if you tell me to.” Her breathing came heavy and uneven. Her toes curled inside her pumps and her calves balled and hardened like ropes.
Harry grabbed her blouse in a fist and tore it from her chest in a sharp wrench. Livid streaks developed on her collarbones where the fabric was now falling away. Her bra was black lace, and a think pink crescent of areola peeked above the half-cups. Reaching behind her and snapping his fingers, the bra popped loose and hung limply around firm, round breasts the color of fresh cream, with blue veins running down to the nipples like precious ore in a geode.
“What a tragedy that you’ve had to hide these away,” Harry said, grinning. “They deserve to be appreciated. Why don’t you show me how you like them to be touched.”
Obediently, she gathered her breasts into her hands and clutched at them, burying her fingertips deep into the tender orbs. She pressed her middle and ring fingers against her nipples and, pinching the nipples between her fingers, pushed them back into her chest and massaged in slow circles. Her hips rose and fell in impatient undulation against Harry’s muscled thigh.
“Please… Please touch me.” She begged.
“You ask so nicely, don’t you? What a good little slut you are.” He said softly into her ear. She shuddered and an erratic moan buzzed up through her nose.
He slid his fingers in from the side of her thigh, and looped them through the crotch of her panties. With a yank, they tore away. She was left dripping and exposed as he cupped her sopping cunt and massaged the clit with the palm of his hand. Gutturally, she purred and kissed the side of his neck, his jaw, his earlobe.
“Your tight little cunt is already so wet for me, isn’t it? You’re such a filthy little whore. You want my cock that badly, do you? Why don’t you show me why you deserve it. Get down on your dirty whore knees and show my cock how much you love it.” Harry held her chin between his fingers and spoke into her mouth.
She groaned happily and as he pulled away, she sank to the floor. She wrestled his trousers down and gasped in amazed delight as his enormous cock sprang forth. With patient adoration, she ran her lips along its length, tasted the underside of the shaft, kissed the mushroom head, and stroked it all the while. She opened her mouth as wide as it would go and tried to fit it down her throat. Barely more than halfway, she began to gag and stubbornly she relaxed her jaw and tried to take it further still. She bobbed back and forth a few times, drool leaking from the corner of her mouth and tears welling in her eyes. With a soft guk guk guk, she attended to the prodigious member lovingly.
“Oh, slut. Your hot little mouth is doing such a good job. See how well my cock fills up your dirty throat? Just imagine what I’m going to do to that whore pussy of yours. I’m going to breed you like a filthy little pig. You’re going to be my little fuckpig, and I’m going to own your tight little cunt. Is that what you want? Do you want to be my little cumslut?” Harry almost sang the lustful imprecations. Emmeline moaned happily around her mouthful and tried to nod without choking.
Harry took her by the hair and brought her up. He spun her to face the wall and pushed her cheeks against the wallpaper. With a soft kiss at the base of her neck, he wrapped a hand around her throat and aligned his spear with her core. “You’re such a well-behaved little slut. You handle my cock so well. All you have to do is tell me how much you want it, and it’s yours.”
“Please, master. I need you so badly. I need your beautiful cock inside me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t stand. I’m begging. Fill me up. Make me your whore.” Emmeline said shakily, one hand against the wall and the other between her legs, frantically rubbing herself.
Without another word, he drove himself inside of her. He grabbed firmly at her throat and levered himself against her to push his cock as far into her dripping core as he could go. Her cunt enveloped him like a second skin made of velvet and honey. She stretched so far that he almost thought she would tear in half at first. She didn’t make a peep of pain, though. As soon as he was inside, she just shuddered in pleasure and began a litany of fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Each thrust he made, she let out another breathy curse.
He pounded into her again and again, lifting her onto her toes and raising the heels of her pumps off the ground by an inch each time. “Such a good girl,” he purred. “Your sweet little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it? You can’t wait to be filled with my cum.”
Beyond words, she just moaned her assent and rolled her hips back into him. She tried to pull him deeper, although there was nowhere deeper left to go. Feverishly, she worked her swollen clit and orgasm after breathless orgasm spilled through her petite frame. Harry didn’t abate. With long, hammering strokes, he threw his cock into her and savored her hungry moans. Just as it seemed her legs could not hold her aloft any longer, he tensed, squeezed her tender throat between his fingers and erupted into her belly.
With animalistic gratitude, she whimpered plaintively and fell against the wall. Her legs no longer supporting her, only Harry’s strong arms. When he withdrew with a wet plop, cum leaked down her leg in a pearlescent torrent. He waved his wand and conjured a cushiony four-poster bed. While she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing, he took her up and laid her on the soft mattress. He kissed her on the tip of the nose and climbed in next to her, holding her until her heartbeat slowed and she shimmied back into him.
“Mr. Potter, you do continue to impress,” she murmured quietly. Then, a few breaths later, she began to snore.
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Dislocation

Chapter 16: