Narcissa Malfoy held her cloak around herself as she passed the shops of Diagon Alley. Flourish and Blotts was empty, Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor had been hollowed out, but there were a few men loitering out front of Borgin and Burkes. They looked up as Narcissa dragged her hood lower, skulking past posters about the shop's grand opening in its new location.
She finally stopped before a building that lilted left into its neighbor. The shopfront bulged into the street, sculpted into the rough shape of a ship's prow. Its sign called it The Three Sheets, and unlike the rest of the darkening alley, firelight and crowds were visible through the windows. Narcissa ducked inside.
"Welcome, Matey!"
The interior decorating had been done with a theme clearly in mind. There were lots of barrels— barrels used to store rum, barrels used as tables, and even barrels as decorations. The women on the staff wore billowy dresses while the men had frock coats. One of them, with wispy black hair and a golden front tooth, greeted Narcissa with enthusiasm.
"What'll it be?" he asked. "We've got aged Rattlesnake Rum fresh from America, less-aged Rattlesnake Rum, extra-aged Rattlesnake Rum, and if you take that side door over yonder you can get yourself fixed up with crumpets and a side of salted ham. What speaks to you today, Matey?"
Narcissa's lips twitched beneath her hood. Septimus Selwyn was an embarrassment of a pureblood in many ways. The second son of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family, he got his tooth knocked out in an illicit duel and subsequently had it replaced with an enchanted gold one. Somehow, he stumbled onto the legend of pirates some time after this, and immediately felt a pronounced kinship on account of their shared oral ornamentation. He drained a good chunk of his family's vault to start The Three Sheets, Diagon's first and only pirate-themed pub. Talk of this had been all the rage among Narcissa's teatime partners for months back when it happened.
But, as a man of good breeding, his business had been spared harassment when Voldemort rose to power. Now, it was likely the second largest tavern in the country, only the Leaky Cauldron besting it for size and customership. Who you were related to was well and good, but purebloods prided tradition above all else, and the Leaky Cauldron was nothing if not traditional.
Besides, The Three Sheets was an acquired taste like no other.
"I require a room—" Narcissa began.
"IT'S YOU!"
A bottle flew past Narcissa's head, fluttering the edges of her hood, which were still drawn over her face.
"Don't think I don't see ye!" shouted a hunched man, his arm extended from hurling his mug. "Hiiiidiiiing yer face. Yer here to get me."
He had the bushiest beard Narcissa had ever seen. It ran together with his uncut hair, burying his ears and making him look like a vengeful ghost. A mousy young waitress left behind the significant crowd of men she'd been serving, hurrying to his side and laying a calming hand on his shoulder. The man pushed her off.
"I know yer type!" The man staggered up. "Ye think yer the first Auror that's come for me? I've killed the rest of ye, and I'll kill ye too, just like I put down all of your kind in the war!"
He rose to his feet— but the effect was more like hobbling than anything truly threatening. He had a terrible limp, and if he had a wand at all then he'd forgotten to draw or bring it.
Narcissa pulled down her hood, glaring at the man.
"Is that better?" she asked.
Septimus Selwyn stepped back in shock. "Madame Malfoy! Why didn't you introduce yourself sooner?"
"I had no interest in being bothered by the rabble," Narcissa said. Her nose wrinkled with distaste. "However, it seems that was unnecessary. They bothered me anyway."
"You said you wanted a room? I'll have one prepared right away!" Septimus's head snapped around toward his waitress and the belligerent drunk. "Get him out of here, NOW!" His head jerked back to Narcissa. "Right this way, if you will, Madame Malfoy."
"Bring him," Narcissa said.
Septimus stopped, smiling while wringing his hands. "Pardon, Madame?"
"When a room is ready for me, bring him." Narcissa inclined her head to the drunk. "Not only did he accuse me of being an Auror, he threatened my life. He must learn the repercussions of such talk."
"With all due respect, he's a mere drunk," said Septimus nervously. "He showed up the last few nights and drank himself silly in the corner. He's never been a problem before now—"
"You need not feign concern for him. I will pay extra for my room, to make up for the loss of his patronage. Just bring him."
"You heard the woman," said Septimus, his face all business once more. "Time to walk the plank my undiscerning friend!"
He petrified the drunk, who tried clumsily to dive away but only succeeding in flopping on his potbelly. Septimus levitated him into the air, leading Narcissa upstairs without another word.
They climbed rickety stairs all the way to the top floor, Narcissa stumbling multiple times. The building had been enchanted to feel as if it was rocking back and forth on rolling waves. It was a tad… exciting. Narcissa felt as if she was truly on an adventure.
"Here you are," said Septimus, unlocking a door and passing Narcissa the key. "The best room we have. I hope the accommodations are to your liking." He leaned toward her. "I should mention, these rooms have been heavily soundproofed. Just in case, you understand."
"Just in case indeed," Narcissa said.
She personally knew three witches who had used the Three Sheets for rendezvouses with… unknown lovers. There was an old saying among pureblood ladies: 'The secret to a happy life is a husband with good breeding and a lover with a good body.' Discretion, it was said, was a lady's most prized quality.
Though that was not what Septimus was implying now. He levitated the drunkard into the room and cut the spell, dropping the paralyzed man haphazardly onto the floor. Septimus bowed, then left down the stairs.
Narcissa entered the room, locking the door behind her. The decorations had been done in the style of a captain's quarters. The drapes were red velvet while the tub in the conjoined bathroom was made from enchanted wooden boards. The bed itself was a four-poster variety with tied-back curtains that could veil it from view if one desired. Narcissa admired the room, then walked to the window. She peeked between the drapes. Diagon Alley was quiet and darkening for the evening. She tied the drapes closed, blocking any view inside. Next, she shed the cloak that hid her on the way here, laying it over the back of a chair and revealing an almost scandalous dress underneath. When she turned back to the room, the drunkard had disappeared without a trace. In his place, he was there, sitting on the edge of the bed. Narcissa's heart beat fiercely.
"Hello, Harry."
O-O-O
"That was a very good disguise," Narcissa said. "If I hadn't seen you walking, I would never have guessed who you were."
She was sitting against the headboard with her legs out straight. It was not the most lady-like position, but Narcissa didn't seem to mind. She was smiling at Harry, who had pivoted on the foot of the bed, placing one leg on the mattress and propping his hands on his knee.
"An illusion can cover a lot, but it's easier if I leave the limp," Harry admitted. "It looks more natural that way."
"And the scraggly appearance?"
"A personal touch. No one remembers a drunk who makes a scene, and if he disappears as suddenly as he appears they assume the alcohol finally got to him." Harry paused, tilting his head, dark hair hanging down above his eyes. "I also find that, in general, purebloods care too much about pride. They never expect their enemies to disguise themselves as any kind of loser because they themselves are too vain to."
Narcissa's eyes gleamed, and she reached out her leg, stroking Harry's foot with her toes. "Are we speaking from experience now?"
"Of a kind," Harry said, recalling the trap Mulciber stumbled into. "Enough about this, however. This meeting was not easy to arrange. Let's not put it to waste."
"Very well," Narcissa said. "Where would you like to begin?"
"Why are you here?" Harry asked.
"Because you called."
She held her chin high. Not only was her dress a low-cut auburn one, she was wearing black stockings. Harry noticed that she'd done her makeup— not merely applied it, but even added extra flourishes, like a slight upturn at the outer corners of her eyeliner. Narcissa smiled at him, devoid of any doubt.
"I met with your son a few days ago," Harry said. "He begged me to reconsider my actions— to reconcile with Lucius, by any means. Are you here to do something similar?"
"No," Narcissa said.
He thought not.
"Then what are you here for?"
"To tell you everything I know that you don't," Narcissa said. "To offer my services for any task you might require. I'm here to support you, Harry, just as I always have."
Her toes were still running across the top of Harry's foot, massaging his skin.
"Why would you go so far?" Harry asked.
Narcissa giggled. "I told you that before. It's because you're worth it."
Harry watched her silently. Narcissa slowly slid her foot back, dragging it along his, smiling sedately. Harry didn't believe she was lying. He just couldn't understand what her angle was. The things she just said would turn her against her husband, her son, and down the line perhaps even Voldemort himself. What would drive her to make such a choice?
He could see pushing her further would be pointless. He'd tried thrice already, and each time she merely reaffirmed her loyalty to him, delicately avoiding the reason for that loyalty. He would accept her words for now… But until he understood her angle, he'd be watching her closely.
"You said you know things that I don't," Harry said. "What are they?"
"Lots of things. I doubt you have many sources privy to high-society women's tea parties, for one."
"It's not a market I've concerned myself with, that's true."
"You should," Narcissa said sagely. "Sooner or later, everything trickles down as gossip. In the last week, for example, I've heard your sanity questioned by the matriarchs of at least eight prominent families. But others have remained quiet when the discussion turns to you. Eleanor Shafiq and Rosalind Rowle haven't had a bad word to say about you. If you were looking to bolster your support, those are the families I would start with."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. It was insightful advice. While he doubted two staunchly-Slytherin families from the Sacred Twenty-Eight would help him oppose Voldemort, their votes could prove invaluable in the short-term while Yaxley and Lucius were assuredly looking for avenues to hinder him.
"I suppose my antics have at least managed to put an end to all those damn wedding invitations I was receiving," he mused wryly.
Narcissa let out a throaty laugh. Her head dipped forward while Harry started, unused to such displays from the prim woman.
"My dear, sheltered boy," she said. "Whoever said any such thing? In recent days they've increased."
Harry stared at her. "You said that with some exceptions, most good purebloods have openly declared me crazy. How could they still be trying to marry their daughters to me?"
"Because you're only crazy unless you're with them," Narcissa said. "Once your house is tied to theirs, then you'll just become ambitious. It doesn't take much for a Slytherin to switch sides. All you need is a better offer."
In short, it was worth it to support him in his bid for power if their daughter was his wife. Should Harry wrest control of Wizengamot out of the hands of the two feuding factions, he — and his wife by default — would become the most powerful people in the country apart from Voldemort, elevating any allied houses to a position of honor.
"I see," Harry said.
"I know marriage is not your style, however, so I'll hold off on any recommendations of which family would benefit you the most." Maybe Harry was exhibiting an overly active imagination, but he thought Narcissa sounded a bit relieved. "Instead, you should be focused on what your enemies will be up to. Fortunately, I happened to be informed on that matter as well."
"Oh? Let's hear it."
"My husband and his cohort are beginning a mad dash for Wizengamot seats," Narcissa said. "They were already pursuing them, but it was different before. They were willing to leisurely wait for you to enter their fold. Now that you've become a rival, rather than an alley, they cannot sit back any longer. As we speak they have drawn up a list of every unclaimed Wizengamot seat. If need be, they'll falsify family links to insert their own people as the heirs to defunct families. For the families that are still around, they'll pursue these votes by any means necessary— flattery, bribery, blackmail. Fortunately for you, I'm privy to this same list with just a few honeyed words. The way forward is simple. You must win these people over first… or remove them from play entirely."
"And Crouch?" Harry asked.
"It's so like you to not blink at such a declaration," Narcissa said. "As for Crouch, I expect that he'll give up on politics. He only tolerated Wizengamot in order to keep Yaxley in check. Now that you've taken on that responsibility, he'll let you and Yaxley play tug of war over votes. As soon as you're distracted, he'll begin removing those loyal to you one at a time, acting by any means necessary."
"Let him try," Harry said. "I can handle whatever he throws at me."
Narcissa shivered. She darted forward without warning, grabbing Harry's hand and drawing him toward her. His body pressed down on hers, his nose full of her honeyed scent. Her eyes were hungry and a bit desperate as Harry planted his palms on the headboard, one either side of her neck.
"I take it we're done talking?" Harry said.
"I've shared what you need to know for now," Narcissa said. "Now, it's time I supported you in other ways."
They stared into each other's impassioned eyes. Holding eye-contact, Harry reached down and pushed her dress up over her wide hips. He grabbed her panties and snapped them in one sharp jerk. It was easy for him, made easier by the skimpy laciness of Narcissa's underwear. He kissed her with her head against the headboard, pushing his tongue into her mouth as he shed the top half of his robes.
Narcissa's hands slid up his muscled back and mussed up his hair. His tongue tangled with hers, pushing it around. One of his hands grabbed her bare pussy, finding the lips slick with arousal, while his other hand popped open the button to his pants. He slid them down just far enough to pull his cock free and shoved it inside of Narcissa.
Still mostly-clothed, kissing sloppily, Harry pressed Narcissa back with repeated thrusts. She squirmed under the powerful touch of her younger lover. He fucked her with vigor she had never known from anyone else, the bed shaking beneath them. Her stocking-clad legs wrapped around his lower back and clung on with all the strength she could muster.
Harry's lips slid off of hers, moving down to her neck. Narcissa's hand darted around the side of his head and pushed him back with a finger pressed to his mouth.
"Bad boy," she said huskily. "Think strategically. I can't be marked."
She immediately ducked forward, sinking her teeth into his skin instead, right below the corner of his jaw. She sucked until she'd formed a large red welt. Harry grabbed the bottom of her thighs, his fingers squeezing through her stockings to grip the cotton-candy-like skin underneath. He pulled up, folding Narcissa underneath him. Her teeth found an unmarred patch of skin and bit with even more force.
As Harry's thrusts beat down against her body, Narcissa was forced to pull her mouth away, taking full advantage of the soundproofed room as she moaned at the top of her lungs.
"Ah… Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Harry could feel her trembling underneath him. His brusque movements beat an orgasm out of her, her folds tightening following a brief wet rush, but of course he didn't stop. Narcissa would be feeling that many more times, and he wouldn't stop until he'd gotten off himself.
The room's locked or opened and Narcissa jerked back. She looked frightened for a moment, but Harry's thrusts hadn't stopped, and her concern quickly melted.
A person entered the room, shutting the door behind her. It was the mousy young waitress who had been attracting a crowd down at the bar. She pulled on her hair, tying it back in a ponytail, before tapping her wand against herself. A complex glamor faded. Her cute features were replaced by the gorgeous visage of Fleur Delacour.
"I thought you might have started by the time I got up here," she said. "The mere thought of it had my allure acting up! It took far too long to peel off those clingy men. The things I do for you."
She shed her 'borrowed' waitress outfit one piece at a time, sauntering forward with swaying hips. Narcissa gasped.
"You—!" she said.
Harry grabbed Narcissa by the cheeks, forcing her face toward his.
"She's mine just as much as you are," he said. "Treat her naturally and with respect."
Narcissa looked surprised. Likely it was Fleur's sudden appearance that caught her off guard, not his and Fleur's relationship. As far as common opinion went, most assumed Harry had been sleeping with her from the moment he bought her. He was probably the only man in the auction hall who would have held off as long as he did.
Beneath Narcissa's shock, however, Harry caught a glimmer of something else. Excitement. The same way her rendezvouses with him inflamed her sense of adventure, Fleur's unexpected addition was making her blood pump. Harry twisted her around, yanking her away from the headboard and pitching her forward.
Fleur caught her weight, by now having stripped herself nude and joined them on the bed. Narcissa was left draped over her, and Fleur leaned back, pulling the woman on top of herself. Veela cared little for things such as gender when it came to attraction, and Narcissa Malfoy was nothing if not beautiful. She responded reflexively to Fleur's advances, kissing the veela just as she had kissed Harry before. Momentarily forgotten, Harry used the break to slide Narcissa's zipper down, loosening her dress and beginning to shimmy it off.
Narcissa lifted her limbs when needed to accommodate his task. When the dress was gone, Fleur reached around Narcissa to unfasten the bra underneath herself. The French witch got it loose and tossed it away, immediately retargeting from Narcissa's lips to her chest. While smaller than Fleur's, they came with a lovely shape, and Fleur bit into them like succulent fruit. When Narcissa returned home tonight, her clothes would be shielding more than a few fresh bruises.
"Oh! Ohhh! Oh!" Narcissa groaned. Fleur smirked around the witch's generous-sized mounds, her blue eyes glittering with lustful pride.
Narcissa and Fleur's pussies sat in front of Harry, stacked atop each other as the women lay tangled. Harry chose to start with Narcissa. Grasping her arse, he held her still as he gave her the fiercest thrusts he could muster. Clapping resounded through the room, and probably would've traveled all the way down to the ground floor through the floorboards if it weren't for the enchantments in place. Narcissa screamed, her chin resting on the roof of Fleur's head. She only grew louder when Harry delivered an open-palmed slap to one of her shaking cheeks. The only clothes Narcissa had left were her stockings, which was somehow more erotic than seeing her wearing nothing at all.
Harry was rough with her, thrusting hard and striking her backside often, but Fleur was delicate. She made love to Narcissa's chest in the purest sense of the phrase. While Harry held Narcissa in place, Fleur delicately stroked her back and petted her hair. Caught between these approaches, it didn't take long for Narcissa to start cumming. Once she started, there was no stopping.
Her insides became slippery from the stream of orgasms she was experiencing. As they mounted, Harry growled, grasping her now-rosy cheeks with both hands once more. His thrusts were merciless, building his pleasure until he spewed it throughout Narcissa's innards. She gasped, then slumped forward. Fleur wriggled underneath her.
"My turn, non?" Fleur asked with a giggle.
As pleasant as this was proving to be, it wasn't why Harry brought Fleur with him today. She had been his backup in case Narcissa turned their meeting into a trap. Harry was no longer worried about that. Whatever the reason, Narcissa was devoted to him. He might as well treat her as such.
Harry pushed his weight down. While Narcissa lay still, Fleur squirmed until her head was above the older woman's, Narcissa's face laying on Fleur's large breasts. Harry kissed Fleur at the same time that he thrust into her, trapping Narcissa between their coupling bodies.
Narcissa could feel everything— his muscles pressing down above her, Fleur's soft body beneath her, and the tremors his thrusts sent through that body. Narcissa could hear their tongues dueling, and the moans that died in Fleur's throat, muffled by Harry's physical affection. His abs coiled against Narcissa's back each time his length speared toward Fleur's core. It wasn't long before Narcissa started moaning herself, caught in the middle of their love.
Harry's arms dug underneath Fleur's back, encircling both women and pulling them toward him. He clutched their warmth against his chest, weathering the intense heat he felt inside of Fleur at the same time. Narcissa began returning Fleur's earlier favor, biting her breasts with skill that suggested more than political gossip was discussed during those tea parties she so proudly attended.
When he could no longer hold it in, Harry reared up on his knees. He grabbed Fleur's hips, lifting them (and Narcissa's at the same time) while delivering a few final thrusts. Unfortunately, Fleur lacked the expensive potions Narcissa used to stave off pregnancy, and they could not risk a mistake so early in their plans. With as much effort as it would take to shake the Imperius Curse, Harry pulled himself from her depths, instead burying his shaft back in Narcissa. He dumped his second load inside of the woman, forcing her to take every drop so nothing would go to waste. Narcissa accepted it all with a throaty groan, going limp against Fleur's bosom.
Perhaps this was not what she had in mind when she swore so ardently to support Harry, but it was certainly a used he'd more than welcome.
Then again, as he listened to Narcissa groan happily, perhaps this was exactly what she'd expected after all.