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The Volunteer	By : mrsmilfoy Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 11615 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all affiliated characters are property of J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from my drabbles.

Chapter List
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Chapter Four: A Million Ways to be Cruel

Her breasts made fantastic pillows. Harry nuzzled them while she stroked his hair. When her hand settled sweetly splayed on his chest, the nails gently scraping, he nearly cried.

"Harry?"

"Yes?" They spoke quietly amid the blankets, naked with limbs tangled.

"What the hell compelled you into my bed?"

"This."

There was a pause while she considered his answer. "I don't follow."

His fingers fluttered over hers. "I've never really stopped thinking about that day in the forest. About you and your hands on me and your breath and your lie."

She made a sound of disbelief. "Well, this is far more than hands and breath and lying, Harry." She sighed, flexed her fingers beneath his and over his heart. "This is undoubtedly a huge mistake."

His jaw clenched. He refused to be hurt by her words. She was only being honest. "We can't exactly take it back."

"I know."

"You could have refused me."

"I'm well aware what I could have done."

"Why didn't you?"

She didn't answer immediately. He brought her hand to his lips, kissed the fingers. "Stop it," she whispered.

"Why didn't you refuse me, Narcissa?" He continued kissing her fingers.

"Dammit, Harry!" She jerked her hand away, shoved him off of her and turned to face him. "You have to understand what it's like for a witch my age. We're done! Our usefulness is over! We've borne the heir, decorated the manor, planned the luncheons. I'm a wife and mother and little else. Not to mention the wrinkles, the aches, the few extra pounds…" She frowned and touched his face, silencing his protest. "And then out of the blue there's this…beautiful young man who for some ungodly reason…wants you. Stares at you like you're gorgeous, flirts, brings you tea, talks to you like you're the person your husband forgot you were." He could hear the tears held at bay in her voice. "I'd like to meet the woman who could say no to all that."

"I'm glad you didn't say no." Harry chewed his lip, thinking. "What happens now?"

Her brows rose considerably. "You're asking me?" She chuffed. "Hell if I know, Harry. You started this. What do you want?"

He knew what he wanted. "I'd like to keep seeing you."

"Seeing me."

"Yes. Like this."

"You want to be lovers."

"Yes."

"I'm married, Harry." There was a plea in her tone, a plea for mercy of sorts, for understanding. But Harry only understood his own feelings, and they were strong and undeniable.

"I know."

"Eventually, I will have to go back to my husband and my son, to my home."

"And I'll have to return to mine."

Frustrated, she rolled to her stomach and propped her head on her elbows, regarding him warily. "So…a tryst, then."

"Isn't a tryst a one-off thing?"

"Not necessarily."

"Can we call it an affair?" He negotiated.

She blew bangs from her eyes, looked mildly amused. "I suppose. Technically it will be."

He plucked the offending hairs from her face. They were sticky with sweat. "Will you enjoy it?"

"I think it's safe to say I will." She blushed and dropped her face into her hands. "For Merlin's sake… Eventually reality will set in and you'll realize you're fucking a 45 year old mother and that this cannot be fun for you." She peeked at him from between her fingers. "Is it? Fun, I mean?"

His tired smile was genuine. "Not the right word." He pushed a another moist strand of hair from her behind her ear. "It's intense. And you make me feel…like I have a reason to be the best I can be. At whatever. Work or…or this." He gestured between them.

"Oh, goddess," she groused. "You do want a mother!"

He laughed. "I don't want a mother! Stop saying that."

"I could have just baked you a pie and lectured you about your marks, you know."

Harry groaned and wrestled her beneath him, nuzzled her breasts until she draped her arms over his shoulders. "I'm not interested in your baked goods." He kissed her and she looked very serious when he pulled away.

"This can't be about love, you know."

"I know." He did know, didn't he?

"I just don't want there to be any confusion of emotions, Harry." Her legs shifted, settling him between them. She arched herself against his already burgeoning erection. "It can only be about this."

He hissed when her hand moved to stroke his hard-on. "I know."

She didn't let him stay the night with her. After a brief nap and round three, she'd risen for the loo and rather gracefully kicked him out. "It won't do for the girls to see you leaving my room in the morning."

"Who's to say they won't see me leaving now?" He was seated at the foot of her bed, feeling awkward and noticing the love bites on his torso. She was a demon.

"It's nearly three in the morning, Mr. Potter. They'll be asleep."

He nodded as he pulled on his vest. "Mr. Potter. Right. And I suppose I shall call you Mrs. Malfoy whilst we're not fucking?"

Her lips pursed and she tightened the sheet around her. "I think that's for the best, yes."

He shrugged into his oxford but left it unbuttoned. He knew he'd no right to be angry considering their earlier conversation. "Very well, Mrs. Malfoy." At her door, he gave a stiff bow. "I hope I satisfied. Have a pleasant evening."

"Mr. Potter, please – " But he closed the door on her protest.

He leaned against his own door and swallowed a lump in his throat. Silly to feel used, really. Silly to feel anything. She'd said so herself – that this couldn't be about emotion. But the feel of her fingers on his chest…and her back tensing and arching beneath his hands…

He threw his hastily donned clothing to the floor and stepped into the shower. Setting the spray to hot, he scrubbed her off of him. The spicy scent had mingled with their sweat and saliva and soured.

His thighs and shoulders ached. He hoped hers did, too. He hoped she had her own reminders; his scent, the bruises his fingers had left on her thighs and hips, the little mark his teeth had left on her bottom lip.

His bed was cool and crisp compared to the hot, sticky mess they'd left hers. He ran his hand across his mattress. Fluffed his pillow. Alone and exhausted, he felt his jaw relax at last. Each muscle seemed to unknit and come to rest.

Was she right? Would I have felt like this if my first time had been with Ginny? He scowled at the ceiling. Ginny wouldn't have kicked him out of her bed, surely. She would have spooned against him during the night like the women in the novels did. Ginny would have awakened him with gentle kisses and whispered promises. She would have called it 'making love.'

He thought of Ginny's slight fey form coolly brushing against him during the night and again he couldn't prevent the comparison. Narcissa was flesh and heat and clutching fingers that might just as soon kill him as caress him.

Harry smashed his face into the pillow and shut out his noisy thoughts. It didn't have to be about emotion. But she didn't have to be so damned callous, either.

Cho met him in the corridor the next morning. She was bright and chipper. "Morning, Harry."

"Yeah."

"You sleep alright? You look tired."

"Thanks, Cho."

She hid a smile as they rounded the corner into the lobby. Already, girls were gathered in the conservatory. "Didn't mean to offend."

"You didn't." He saw Narcissa chatting amiably with Rachel and Padma and his belly clenched up. "You're right, actually. I couldn't sleep last night."

"Well, if you want to catch a nap today, I'd gladly take a few of your tasks for you."

He grinned at her. Such a Gryffindor… "Thanks, Cho. You're really kind."

"It's what we do."

"Good morning, Miss Chang. Mr. Potter." Narcissa greeted them and Harry could swear she'd never even entertained a thought of touching him. He nodded and accepted the list she offered. She collected her teacup and addressed the group as she headed for the door. "Enjoy your tea and I hope you all have productive days."

Harry felt his nostrils flare and his eyes bristle.

"Mr. Potter?"

He turned to her, surprise and probably hope naked on his face. "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Could I see you in my office for a moment before you begin your duties? You may bring your tea if you like." She was gone without waiting for his affirmative, and Harry's fellow volunteers 'ooooohed' at him suggestively. A chorus of 'You're in trouble' followed him from the conservatory on a wave of giggles.

The morning's sun lit her office to a cool gray. Harry closed the door behind him and stepped behind the wingback chair before her desk. She sat with a heavy sigh and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Sit, please." He did as she asked, slouched a touch. He waited for her cold disconnect, his reassignment and dismissal. She seemed to have trouble meeting his eyes. "I hardly know how to… I feel I owe you an apology."

He blinked. That was unexpected. "What?"

"I must have seemed terribly cruel this morning." When she did meet his gaze, he saw what her makeup couldn't hide. A puffiness around her pretty eyes. "I wasn't thinking beyond self-preservation, I'm afraid, and unwittingly hurt you."

"Self-preservation…"

"Mr. Potter." She licked her teeth. "Harry. I absolutely cannot allow myself to develop feelings for you. Please understand that. I mustn't have you…sleeping with your arms around me at night or…just none of that." Her hands tapped her desk firmly. "And that was my thought when I asked you to leave my room this morning. But." Here, she took a deep breath. "I did not consider what I'd learned. That last night was…different for you. And for all of my talk about first sexual experiences being special, I certainly did nothing to make yours any moreso. For that, I apologize."

"I see." He did see. But what to say? His earlier resentment seemed to melt under the warm breath of her acknowledgment. "Well. You didn't exactly know."

"I did after you told me."

"I don't know what you –"

"Please forgive me." Her mouth worked oddly. "That's all I want. And for you to know I am not so…vile as to take a young man's very innocence and leave him to the wolves!" Blue eyes begged him to understand. "And to know that while I am believed to be made of ice by many…I melt too easily." She shook her head, eyes wet. "And then the thin parts break and shatter. And I can't let that happen. And you..."

Harry watched her bare herself and saw a girl in her – not much older than him; painfully awkward inside with a world of expectations on her shoulders. He saw the girl in the picture – the girl in the wedding dress who smiled like a sacrifice. "I accept your apology," he whispered.

She let out a breath she may have been holding since he'd left that morning. "Thank you."

"Mrs. Malfoy."

"Yes?"

"It wasn't…" He shifted. "I'm not saying that…" He stood, and she looked up with something very akin to minor fear. "It wasn't meaningless. What happened between us. And I want you to know I feel…"Why is this so bloody hard?

"You feel what?"

There was a desperation in her voice. As if she longed to hear him say something in particular. But again he'd no way of knowing her mind, so he simply told the truth. "I feel sort of…privileged. I guess. That I was with you my first time. I was afraid it would be…awkward and awful, but… You made it wonderful. At least for me!" She was standing, too. He spoke quickly, afraid she would make for the door in light of this minor baring of his soul. "And I hope it wasn't awful for you, either. I mean, I know that I'm not - "

For a witch who claimed to be old and practically feeble, she was quick as lightning, shutting his mouth with her own. Her arms wrapped tight around him and he groaned when her fingers found their place in his hair. His own found their place on her bum and he lifted her easily onto the edge of her desk.

Their kiss was lewd, open-mouthed, tongues vying for dominance. Harry's glasses went crooked and Narcissa removed them. Harry heard them slide across her desk and stop near the opposite edge. He encouraged her head back and attacked her neck. He'd learned the areas beneath her ears were particularly sensitive and she whimpered when he licked there.

"Harry, Harry…" She hissed, grappling at his shoulders. "Oh, hell. I can't say no..."

His name on her lips was like a spell aimed at his dick. It was amazing how quickly he could achieve an erection around this witch. Harry went a bit dizzy, in fact. Then her hand found him through his trousers and he surged against her. "Can't do this here!" He gasped into her neck, but his fingers were struggling with the buttons on her jacket.

"Why?" She gasped back, and her fingers were opening his zipper already.

Is she serious?

"Just be quick. And quiet." She pushed at his pants, freed his cock to the cool air.

Harry lurched into her touch. Quick probably wouldn't be a problem, but quiet… He wanted to scream every time he touched her. He wrestled with her skirt until it was over her hips, but garters – while definitely the sexiest clothing articles he'd encountered thus far – were impossible to operate quickly. For the moment, he abandoned them in favor of tugging her bustier down until her breasts were joyfully freed.

"Beautiful," he murmured, palming a hard nipple.

"Harry." Her mouth was hot on his ear. "Focus."

"Focus," he repeated. A stupid grin curved his mouth. She was reaching between them, face centimeters from his, easily slipping her garters free. Her arms pressed her breasts together and Harry couldn't look away from them. His brain shut down. "Gods, I love your tits."

"I've noticed." She was smirking, wriggling out of her knickers and wrapping legs round his waist. "Oh!"

Harry buried himself in her in one thrust, slightly surprised by the heat and slickness of her. "Yes," he whispered. He planted his feet firmly, braced his knees against the desk to begin a quick rhythm of thrusting.

Narcissa muffled any grunts and cries in Harry's shoulder. Likewise, Harry huffed and cursed into her bosom. But the desk was not so conscious of possible discovery. It bumped, creaked, rattled and shook no matter how the lovers attempted to readjust. "Fucking hell," Cissa grumbled. Her temper was shortened by the burn of pleasure whirring gloriously in her abdomen.

Her hand left its clutch on Harry's buttock, traveled over his hip to the pocket containing his wand. She drew it, aimed it at the desk beneath them, concentrated as best she could and snapped: "Stabiliendum!" He vaguely heard his wand roll onto the floor as the desk stilled.

Her strong, cold magic swelled beneath them, creating an answering wave in his balls. The fact his wand had responded so readily to her would be considered later. He gripped her harder to him, pressed his lips to her sweating temple. "Shite, Narcissa. Come for me."

"I am," she keened in his ear, momentarily forgetting her 'be quiet' dictum. Then her fingers were wicked thorns in his arse and she cracked around him like a ceramic cannonball. Harry rode out her orgasm with a steadying hand behind her head, swallowing her mewls and whimpers in his throat as he answered her release with his own. When she was gasping for breath, he released her.

"Alright?" He asked. He was softening inside her, feeling her thighs relax and drop.

She nodded. "I'm fine."

"Rather risky, this." Not that he cared. He just wanted her to know he was conscious of the gamble they'd taken.

Another nod. "I know." Then she was pushing him gently away to affix her attire. He followed suit, tucked himself away with as much dignity as he could muster. It wasn't terribly difficult considering she looked like she'd been ritualistically ravished. She stood and he steadied her, delivering one last little kiss. This close, he saw the nick his teeth had left on her lip the night before and kissed that.

She cupped his chin, stretched up to his cheek. "You need to get to work," she whispered. "They'll suspect something, otherwise."

"Doubtful." Harry chuckled, embracing her loosely.

She pulled his hands from her back and kissed them before slipping away from him. She retrieved his wand, but paused before handing it over. "Harry?"

"Hm?"

"This is Draco's old wand."

He blinked a few times. "Yeah. I disarmed him. Remember?" He took the hawthorn from her, watching her contemplative face. It was odd, mentioning this bit of their past now. Harry wondered if it wasn't a mistake… And then he remembered how well his wand had responded to her moments earlier.

"I remember, yes. I'm just surprised you've kept it."

"It responds well to me, actually. We've become…attached." He looked at the simple wand before pocketing it. "Draco did get another, I assume."

"Yes. We both did." She drew hers from the holster attached to her belt. "He lost mine in the Room of Requirement." Then it was her turn to ask: "Remember?"

"Vividly." Harry, unthinking, reached for her wand. And unthinking, she handed it over. It was similar to her last one – one Harry remembered because of its uniqueness. This one was heavy, slender and feminine with a coil of raised silver wrapped round the hilt. He turned it hilt-toward-her and over his elbow when he handed it back. "It's beautiful. What is it?"

"Ebony and unicorn. Like my last one, actually."

"This one is unicorn."

She nodded. "As is his new wand. Runs in the family, I guess." She gestured to the door, business again. "If you would, Mr. Potter. We've work to accomplish today. And I would like a visit to my lavatory."

"Of course, Mrs. Malfoy." He gave her another brief bow, accompanied by a smoldering smirk in his eyes. She noticed, and shooed him away, biting her lip to maintain a stoic façade. In the corridor, he was smoothing his hair when he heard a cough.

He whirled ungracefully. "Cho! You scared me."

"Sorry." The Ravenclaw smiled at him. "Not in trouble, after all?"

"No. No. Just…" He pulled his list from his back pocket. "Couple of changes to my assignments and…" He shrugged. Never was very good at lying on the fly – unless my damned life was at stake.

Narcissa emerged from her office at that moment, looking as put together as the devil's details. "Oh! Miss Chang! What brings you this way?"

Cho grimaced. "Had to change my jacket. I spilled milk all down my front with the lunch trolley."

Narcissa tisked. "I'm so sorry. But I see you had a replacement at hand."

Cho nodded, looking oddly between Harry and their coordinator. "The elves have been quite on top of laundry since the move." She ducked her head and waved almost shyly. "Well. I'm back to work then."

"Good day, Miss Chang." Narcissa chimed. She turned a coy, charming gaze on Harry. "You as well…Mr. Potter." She disappeared into her private room and Harry shook his head. The witch was vicious. And he had an idea he was only just beginning to count her million ways to be cruel. Not that he minded.

AN: A nod as always to my fabulous Britpicker - intoxicatedminds. Title and inspiration for this chappy come from the band OKGO and their song A Million Ways to be Cruel. Next chapter sees a bit of a wrench thrown into the works.
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The Volunteer