Summary:The Yuleball! Who will Harry ask? And when emotions are so high, there has got to be at least one revelation, right?
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextChapter Nine
The old Potter cottage came into view as Harry walked up the winding dirt path. His heart raced with each step, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling in his chest.
He knocked twice before entering, the familiar scent of cinnamon and pine wafting over him. "Lily?"
"In here, love." Lily's voice floated from the sitting room.
Harry found her curled up on the sofa, a book open in her lap. She looked up at him, vibrant green eyes lighting up behind her glasses. "You're home."
"I am."
He crossed the room with a sense of urgency, his strides purposeful and determined. As he reached her, his hands gently cradled her face, his touch both tender and possessive. The intensity of his desire pulsed through him as he captured her lips in a searing kiss, a merging of their souls in that fleeting moment.
Lost in the intoxication of their connection, Lily's book slipped from her grasp, surrendering to the pull of gravity as her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. A sigh escaped her lips, a soft melody of longing and surrender that echoed in the space between them.
The heat between them intensified, an electric current coursing through their bodies. Harry's arousal pressed insistently against the confines of his trousers, a testament to the hunger that consumed him. His hands slid down to grip Lily's hips, their bodies moving together in a primal rhythm, their desire igniting an inferno that threatened to consume them whole.
Lily's moan resonated deep within him, a harmonious melody that reverberated through his core. It was a symphony of pleasure that spurred Harry on, urging him to delve deeper into the depths of their passion. Her plea, barely a whisper against his lips, fueled the fire that burned within him.
Responding to her plea, Harry lifted Lily effortlessly into his arms, his strength both protective and exhilarating. Ascending the stairs with purposeful steps, he carried her towards the sanctuary of the master bedroom, their bodies entwined and hearts racing in perfect synchrony.
Upon reaching their destination, Harry gently laid Lily upon the soft expanse of the bed. His wand danced through the air with practiced precision, shedding their clothes like discarded layers of inhibition. The room was cloaked in a haze of anticipation as they shed the physical barriers that separated them.
Crawling over her, Harry marveled at the sight before him. Lily, exposed and vulnerable, her body a canvas upon which he could paint his desires. Their eyes locked, an unspoken promise passing between them as he positioned himself above her.
In perfect harmony, Lily parted her legs, inviting him into the sanctuary of her warmth. As Harry sank into her, he groaned at the exquisite sensation of their bodies merging, a joining that transcended mere physicality. She enveloped him with a slickness that bespoke of her readiness and longing, the embodiment of their shared passion.
Their movements were a symphony of desire, a dance of ecstasy that had Lily writhing beneath him. Harry's thrusts were deliberate, each one a testament to the depths of his ardour. His hips moved in rhythmic synchrony with hers, their bodies becoming one in a sublime union.
Lily's pleas for more filled the air, her voice a siren's call that spurred Harry on. Nails dug into his back, leaving imprints of desire etched upon his skin. The sound of their skin meeting, the symphony of their carnal connection, reverberated through the room.
With each thrust, the coil of pleasure tightened within Harry, driving him relentlessly towards the precipice of release. Lily's inner walls spasmed around him, her cry of ecstasy shattering the confines of their passion-fueled cocoon. The sensation was his undoing, the dam of restraint breaking as his release surged forth in hot spurts.
In that moment of climactic bliss, their bodies intertwined in an embrace that transcended physicality. The warmth of his seed spilled within her, the bedside table simmering with smoke as the sheets of the bed became singed from the small flames that licked up around them.
They lay in a tangle of limbs, catching their breath. "Did you miss me?" Lily asked softly, fingers carding through his hair.
"Every second we're apart," Harry said truthfully.
"I have good news. Potter Manor will be ready for us to move in by the Christmas break, which isn't too far away now," Lily smiled up at him, eyes gleaming. "Perhaps we should have an intimate Yule celebration to mark the occasion, just the usual group?"
"I'd like that," Harry said, arousal already stirring again at the thought of the two being alone for Christmas in such a big house.
Lily kissed him, slow and deep. "Welcome home, love."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It finally arrived. The week from hell that still caused a knot to form in Harry's stomach. He could fight werewolves, race from giants, seduce pureblooded princesses, but, asking a girl to a dance? No chance in hell.
Despite having much more experience with dancing since his first time round, it somehow still triggered a reaction in him. Feelings that he'd rather push away than deal with.
The crisp morning air filled Harry's lungs as he and Daphne Greengrass ran side by side around the Black Lake. The sun peeked over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the water's surface. Daphne's ice-blue eyes sparkled with determination as she kept pace with him. As the weeks drew on, he was more and more impressed with her rapid progress as they trained their bodies.
When he had asked her why she had kept training with Harry, she responded, with a serious look in her eyes, that she had seen first hand the benefits of being physically strong. Plus, she had said, it meant that she can clear some of the cobwebbed thoughts the castle gave her. Harry couldn't help but steal glances at her toned form, her white skin glistening in the sunlight. She was beautiful, the Faerie Law, great genes, and powerful magic being amazing contributing factors.
"Can you believe the Yule Ball is just around the corner?" Daphne asked breathlessly, maintaining her stoic expression even amidst their run.
"Time flies," Harry replied in a monotone voice, shifting his thoughts away from oogling Daphne towards the idea of forging new connections with other people in this world. "I still haven't got a clue who I should invite."
"Really?" Daphne slowed her pace slightly, her eyes widening in surprise. "I thought you'd be swamped with invitations."
Harry chuckled. "Not exactly. Lots of people staring at me, but no one has actually asked me. I think, as a Champion, I've got to ask myself."
"Just ask a friend Potter, make it easy on yourself," Daphne suggested.
"How about you? Someone of such, high repute like yourself must be surrounded with invitations."
She rolled her eyes. The pair had just started going up a hill.
"The infamous yet aptly named Ice Queen of Slytherin does not get swamped with invitations. But as a pureblood I have to make an appearance."
"I guess we're just destined to go to the ball alone." Harry joked.
"Except as a champion you have to go with a date. For the first dance." She commented with a huff.
Harry groaned.
"Fucckk!" he screamed. "Why does it have to happen to me?!"
She rolled her eyes with a smile as they reached the summit of the hill and started running down.
"Better make up that mind of yours Potter, this is the ideal time to start forming relationships with the others in the upper circles. Especially if you want to rebuild House Potter."
Harry nodded along, the two continued running till they reached an opening in the woods, here the two practiced using their magic. First with wands, then once they had warmed their magic up (that was the excuse that Harry had agreed for the sake of Daphne, who seemed unable to access her mage magic as quickly as he could), they began using their mage elemental magic. Daphne still couldn't summon her magic for long periods of time, but her magical stamina was increasing. Slowly. Harry's control was better, but the amount he could access the mage magic remained the same. He gathered that he could use the fireball magic around fives times a day for around a minute each time. But no matter how much he trained the magic, he couldn't extend the amount of uses.
After Daphne looked like she was tiring, the two began their run back towards the castle. Neither of them talking due to the exhaustion. Daphne had been frustrated that an ice spear literally fizzled into a puddle on the ground when her magic reached the end of its tether.
As they rounded a bend, Harry spotted Neville near the entrance to the Hogwarts castle, he was leaning against the wall, writing something into a leather bound journal. They jogged toward him, slowing to a walk as they approached.
"Morning, Neville," greeted Harry, patting his friend on the shoulder. Neville almost dropped his journal due to the surprise. Clearly deep in thought. It was hard to believe that Neville was this worlds saviour, and that he was his best friend here too. Harry guessed that that made him the Ron of this world. Which, he realised, was a pretty cool position to be in.
Once he composed himself, Neville offered a weak smile, his blonde hair sticking up in various directions.
"Hey, you...two?" he asked, looking to Harry quizzically.
"We were out for a morning run. Nothing weird, Longbottom.' Daphne answered, a warning in her tone.
"How was the run?" Neville asked, trying to sound casual.
"Refreshing," Harry replied, wiping sweat from his brow. "What brings you here so early?"
"Needed some fresh air," Neville admitted, scratching the back of his head. "But listen, there's something I need to talk to you about—"
"Leave me alone!"
A loud voice broke through the stillness of the morning. It was around eight, so most of the castle should be awake and moving about by now. The three of them shared a worrying look and stepped into the castle quad. There, they saw a tall white haired teen surrounded by a group of cronies, all slightly bent down. It looked like they were trying to hide something. Using Beastial Surge Harry was able to focus his hearing and sight to see that they were cornering a very beautiful and frightened-looking Beauxbaton girl, that Harry remembered as being named Amelie, cowering under their taunts.
"Leave her alone, Malfoy," Harry snapped, his fists clenching at his sides.
The crowd of boys stopped what they were doing, stood up and turned to face them.
The blonde boy, Draco, adopted a sneer on his face once he saw Harry and Neville.
"Walk away from us," Harry whispered.
"Or what?" Draco taunted, stepping closer to Amelie as she shrank back further towards the wall behind her.
"Or I'll duel you right here," Neville interjected, surprising everyone listening.
Harry wanted to say something. There was a truce between the two houses. But that was technically between randomly starting fights with the other. Here he and Neville were trying to defend someone's honour, and to stop Draco and his lackeys from being pricks.
This was justified.
Back in Harry's world, that would not have been much of threat. But in this world, Neville was the Boy-Who-Lived and a world class duellist.
It would be stupid to accept a challenge from him.
But in this world, Draco wasn't just the spoiled child of Lucius Malfoy. He had access to some twisted magic, and at one point had been trained and was also a consistent name in the duelling circuits. Just not as prevalent or as internationally known as Neville's.
Draco's sneer twisted into a smirk and whipped out his wand out, and so did three of the boys around him. The others moving to keep their distance.
"Fine," Draco hissed, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and determination. Harry and Neville exchanged a silent, tense glance before steeling themselves for the inevitable duel.
"Are you ready?" Harry whispered fiercely, his hand tightening around his wand.
"Let's end this," Neville replied, his grip on his own wand white-knuckled.
The duel began with a violent barrage of spells, each one aimed with precision and deadly intent. The air crackled and sparked with the sheer force of their magic, filling the space around them with an ominous aura. Despite Draco's impressive skills, Harry and Neville fought back with equal ferocity, their determination unbreakable.
But it was Neville who landed the final blow, unleashing a powerful disarming spell that sent Draco's wand flying out of his grasp and clattering to the ground.
Before anyone could catch their breath, Professor McGonagall suddenly appeared in their midst like a furious phoenix. Her voice boomed over the chaos, demanding answers and reprimanding the wayward students for their reckless behavior. For a moment, all was still as they stood before her, trembling with adrenaline and fear.".
"Malfoy was harassing Amelie," explained Harry, doing his best to look as though he was struggling for breath. Which wasn't really that hard considering the time expending his magic in the woods not too long ago.
'Ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin, for each of you. This is not how we represent our school, boys." she said sternly, her eyes scanning the students. "Now, go get cleaned up, all of you."
As the group dispersed, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in Neville's bravery. He turned to Daphne, who looked equally impressed.
"I hope you boys are prepared to deal with them now you've upset them." She warned as she eyed the sneers that were now painted onto the boys' faces.
"Yeah," he replied sheepishly, rubbing a bruise forming on his cheek. "I just...couldn't let Malfoy get away with it."
"Good for you," Harry agreed, clapping him on the back. As they walked toward the castle, he glanced over at Daphne, her advice still weighing heavily on his mind. With Samantha and Tonks unresponsive and the Yule Ball fast approaching, perhaps it was time to make a decision. But deep down, he worried about the consequences that might follow.
"Amélie," Neville called out hesitantly, catching up with the Beauxbaton girl as she walked away from the scene of the duel. "Are you okay?"
Amélie turned around, her dazzling blue eyes causing Neville's breath to hitch. She smiled at him and reached out to clasp one of his hands with both of hers.
"Thank you, Mr Longbottom." she looked towards the slytherin boys who were licking their wounds as they trudged back into the castle under McGonagal's watchful eye. "I am okay thanks to you."
Neville almost shivered at the sound of melodious voice -- she spoke in a thick French accent, but luckily Neville spent enough time in France to not find a problem understanding her.
"Good, I'm glad!" there was a pause between them. The beautiful French witch seemed to be looking at him expectantly. Realising his earlier predicament, he took a gulp of air, and swallowing nervously said, "I was wondering– if you'd like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"
Amélie turned to face him, her blue eyes sparkling with gratitude and admiration. "I would be honoured, Neville. Thank you for standing up for me," she said, extending an elegant hand towards him.
"Of course,' he replied, taking her hand gently in his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. His cheeks flushed with pride and happiness at her acceptance, and he felt a renewed sense of confidence.
As they exchanged pleasantries, Harry watched from a short distance away, his thoughts racing. Seeing Neville's bravery was inspiring. His memories of his own Neville were far from being a fierce fighter, or someone who had the confidence to ask a girl to a dance. If Neville Longbottom, Chosen One or not, could do it, so could he. Right?
He turned to Daphne, who at this moment was subtly tucking her wand back into the holster on her leg.
"Daphne," Harry said, his voice almost a whisper.
"Potter?" Daphne said, her voice soft yet firm as she looked to him. Their eyes met, and the warmth in her ice-blue gaze gave him the courage to speak his mind.
"Daphne, I've been thinking about the Yule Ball," he began, his heart pounding in his chest. "And I… I would like to go with you."
A rare smile spread across her face, lighting up her features and making her eyes shine even brighter. "I would love that, Harry," she replied, her stoicism momentarily replaced by genuine emotion.
"G-great," he stammered, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement wash over him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Yule Ball was a dazzling affair, with ice sculptures glistening amidst enchanted snowflakes that floated gently down from the ceiling. The Great Hall was transformed into a winter wonderland, complete with sparkling silver trees and an enormous crystal chandelier casting a soft glow over the dancing couples. A live orchestra played melodious tunes that filled the air with magic and romance. Parents had come to chaperone the many students attended the event. The boys in beautiful black robes, and the girls in the most dazzling dresses.
Harry's heart swelled with pride as he led Daphne, his beautiful date for the evening, onto the dance floor. As they moved with the other champions, he couldn't help but notice how her icy-blue eyes sparkled like stars, and her stunning white gown clung to her curvaceous body, accentuating her ample breasts and rotund bum. In his peripheral, he could see Lily Potter, looking radiant and elegant in a deep emerald green dress, stood among the other chaperoning parents. She caught her son's eye and smiled warmly at him, her green eyes matching his own.
"Ready for our first dance, Harry?" Daphne asked, her stoic expression giving way to a small, genuine smile.
"Absolutely," Harry replied, taking her hand in his. The two came together, their bodies moving in time with the music. As they danced, Harry felt a mixture of emotions swirling inside him – joy, desire, and a hint of confusion as he continued to feel something for Daphne.
"Harry, you're quite good at this," Daphne said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Thanks," he replied, his mind racing a mile a minute. He focused on the feel of her hand in his, the gentle sway of her hips, and the warmth of her breath against his cheek. They moved gracefully around the dance floor, lost in the music and each other's presence. The mixture of everything caused his magic to thrum slightly. To warm and surge to the surface.
Luckily, as he felt his magic reaching out, he was able to mentally grab hold of it, and reign it back in. Stopping it before anyone could sense it.
"Is everything alright?" Daphne asked, concern etched on her face.
"Yes, I'm just...thinking," Harry admitted, his eyes briefly flickering to Lily and then back to Daphne. "I'm trying to understand... magic."
Daphne nodded, her gaze unwavering, yet the slightest hint of annoyance in her tone. "Of course your thinking about magic. But... tonight... "
Harry nodded, "Sorry, tonight I'll focus on you and this dance. Thank you, Daphne, for agreeing to be here with me," he said sincerely, feeling his heart swell with appreciation for the enigmatic witch by his side.
As the music continued to play, Harry allowed himself to be swept up in the moment, his body moving in harmony with Daphne's. He couldn't help but feel drawn to her, their connection growing stronger with every beat of their hearts. And as they danced together, surrounded by the magic and beauty of the Yule Ball, Harry knew he had never felt more alive.
As the music shifted to a slower tempo, Harry and Daphne made their way over to the Champions Table, where Krum, Neville, and their dates were seated. The table was situated at the head of the Great Hall, adorned with extravagant gold and silver decorations that shimmered in the candlelight. Plush red velvet chairs surrounded the table, making it clear that this was a place of honour.
"Ah, Harry!" Neville exclaimed, catching sight of his friend as they approached. "Glad you could join us!"
"Thanks, Nev," Harry replied, pulling out a chair for Daphne before taking a seat himself. He glanced around the table, taking in the various faces – Krum's stern expression, Fleur's radiant beauty, and Neville's warm smile. Roger Davis, Fleur's date, appeared slightly intimidated by the illustrious company, squirming in his seat, his light blue robes ruffling slightly.
"Harry, I must say you are an excellent dancer," Fleur commented, her blue eyes locked onto him. There was a teasing edge to her voice that caused Harry to shift uncomfortably in his seat.
"Uh, thank you," he stammered, feeling Daphne's hand on his knee under the table. She gave a reassuring squeeze, which helped keep him grounded. Although he would later wonder if it was reassuring, or territorial. But, Daphne had nothing to be territorial about, right? "You looked quite graceful out there as well."
"Merci, Harry," Fleur's lips curled into a small, knowing smile, and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs elegantly. Her gaze lingered on him, causing a flush to creep up his neck. It was difficult to ignore the tension that seemed to crackle between them.
"Are you enjoying the ball so far?" Neville asked, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness.
"Definitely," Harry replied, forcing a smile. "It's been a great night."
"Perhaps we should all dance together later," Fleur suggested, her eyes still fixed on Harry. "It would be a shame not to take advantage of such a lovely evening."
"Sure," Harry agreed, his heart racing at the thought. He couldn't help but wonder what Fleur's intentions were, and whether he should risk further complicating his already tangled web of emotions.
"Great!" Neville chimed in, oblivious to the undercurrents flowing around the table. "Let's enjoy the rest of the night, then!"
Neville and Amelie danced a few more times together. Her head resting on his shoulder when there was a slow moment. Hermione, Krum's date, had only danced once. The rest of the evening she had spent sitting at the champions table, listening to the conversation, and watching Neville on the dance floor.
Krum had left her after the third or fourth song and was spending time with the Slytherin's. Seemed he and Draco had a lot in common.
As the conversation continued, Harry found it difficult to concentrate on anything other than Fleur's lingering glances and the warmth of Daphne's hand on his knee. He knew he had to tread carefully, the smallest wrong action could have disastrous ramifications.
"I like this song, can we dance, Harry?" Daphne asked with the rare sight of her eyes sparkling with excitement. How could Harry say no? He nodded and the two headed to the dancefloor. The music swelled around them as Harry and Daphne moved gracefully across the dance floor. The warmth of her body next to his, combined with the lingering tension from Fleur's flirtatious glances, made it difficult for Harry to concentrate on anything but the feel of Daphne in his arms.
He couldn't help but acknowledge that there was an undeniable connection between them, one he hadn't quite expected. And it surprisingly worried him.
As they danced, the silvery fabric of Daphne's gown shimmered like moonlight against her smooth, pale skin. Her eyes, a piercing ice blue, held Harry's gaze captive, and he found it impossible to look away. Their movements were fluid and effortless, as if they had been dancing together for years.
"Harry," Daphne whispered, her breath warm against his ear, "I really didn't know you could dance so well."
"Neither did I," he admitted with a shy smile. A sudden, unexpected thrill coursed through him as he realized just how close they were, their bodies almost pressed against each other. That familiar heat beginning to thrum in his chest, his magic seeping from his pores, mingling with each breath.
It was then that Daphne's hand brushed against Harry's in what seemed like an innocent accident, but the touch sent a jolt of electricity through him. His skin tingled where her fingers had grazed his, and he could feel the magic within him surge, responding to the contact.
Without warning, the candles surrounding the dance floor flickered wildly, their flames casting eerie shadows across the faces of the students and professors gathered at the ball. Hushed whispers broke out among the crowd, and even the music seemed to falter for a moment.
"D-did you feel t-that?" Daphne asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Y-yeah," Harry stammered, his heart pounding in his chest. "do you think it could have been—"
"Your magic?" she questioned, her voice barely audible over the sound of the orchestra resuming its melody.
"Well, I think it was more like... our magic." he replied, uncertain. But deep within him, he knew it to be true – the power that had coursed through him at Daphne's touch was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. And in that moment, Harry understood that his connection with her went beyond simple physical attraction. It was something deeper, rooted in the very magic that defined who he was as a wizard. A wizard who was controlled by the unwritten laws of this world.
As they continued to dance, Harry tried to push aside the unsettling realization, focusing instead on the way Daphne's body moved against his own. Her touch seemed to have unleashed something within him that only she could control, and as the night wore on, Harry found that he didn't mind being under her spell.
As the initial shock of the magical surge began to fade, Harry felt a newfound confidence and power coursing through him. The connection between him and Daphne seemed to grow stronger as they moved in harmony to the music, their steps becoming more fluid and graceful.
"Harry," Daphne murmured, her gaze locking with his. "Do you think its dangerous us being so close together?"
He blinked as he felt her head rest on his chest, as though she was listening to his heartbeat, it seemed as everyone around them had been enjoying the moment with their dates, the two mages were thinking of the possible ramifications of their magic being so close to one another. In this capacity.
He took a deep breath, savouring the newfound strength that seemed to hum beneath his skin. "It felt like an explosion of power in me."
Daphne's eyes widened, a mixture of awe and concern. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"Maybe," Harry admitted, his heart pounding in his chest. But despite the uncertainty, he felt invigorated by this new development – the surge of magic had sparked an idea, an idea that now left a small hollow hole in his heart. It was as though their touching had doubled any emotion, any power he held, and by no longer touching, it caused his normality, to become less than ideal. "Or maybe it means we're meant for something greater together."
"Greater?" Daphne asked, her brow furrowing as they continued to dance amid the twirling couples on the ballroom floor.
"Like a partnership," Harry explained, his voice low and intense. "A bond that goes beyond friendship or romance – something rooted in our very magic itself."
He watched as Daphne processed his words, her ice-blue eyes searching his face for any hint of doubt. But Harry felt certain of what he was saying – the surge of magic had only served to strengthen the already powerful connection between them.
"A partnership? Magic is a mysterious thing," Daphne mused, her voice thoughtful. "But if what you say is true, then... what does that mean for us?"
"Maybe it means we're on the right path with helping each other grow stronger," he suggested, his grip on her waist tightening ever so slightly. "That together, we can overcome any obstacle."
She hummed at that, "Even stronger than the great wizards? Dumbledore, Grindelwald, He Who Must Not Be Named?' she asked, her eyes meeting his with a fierce determination that matched his own.
He didn't reply.
Her eyes shining with resolve as they continued to dance, their bodies moving in perfect sync with each other and the magic that bound them together. As the music swelled around them, Harry felt a newfound sense of control over his plan. Pieces falling into place, he just need help keeping track of everything. He could almost imagine his magic pulsing within him, responding to his every thought and movement like an extension of his very being. He could feel it in the way he effortlessly guided Daphne through the intricate steps of the dance, their bodies twirling gracefully across the polished floor.
Not too long later, they returned to the table. Once Harry had helped Daphne sit back down next to Hermione, Fleur had appeared at his side, her delicately manicured hand resting on his chest.
"Harry, surely it is the champions turn to dance together?"
He didn't get a chance to reply as she dragged him over to the dance floor during a rather slow song.
She wrapped her arms round his neck and locked eyes with him as he rested his on her waist. The two mere inches away from the other.
He felt his heat rising in his chest, but this time he focused on it. He could feel his inner lake causing waves that splashed out from him in a pulse, that seemed to be reaching out to those around him. Yet when he followed its trajectory towards Fleur, he was met with a silvery-blue wave of her own. One that intermingled with his own like a pair of outstretched hands with interlacing fingers.
"You are a powerful wizard Harry, how you don't have ladies throwing themselves at you is ridiculous," she began. "If you were in France, you would have your pick of wives. They clearly lack the brain cells over here."
Harry chuckled, "who says I haven't received betrothal requests?"
Fleur's eyebrow arched at that, "but I heard—"
"That I'm not betrothed? That would be true. I haven't accepted any yet. I have until the end of this year to be betrothed."
Fleur watched him for a moment then smirked, learning her forehead against his, their warm breath dancing across the others lips.
"You are… most intriguing. Monsieur. I look forward to becoming closer this year," she whispered.
Harry hummed his response as they continued dancing, completely oblivious to the looks they were receiving from around the room. And if they did notice, they pretended not to.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The evening wore on, the soft golden light from the enchanted candles flickering gently against the walls and casting a warm glow over the ballroom. The laughter and chatter of the other students gradually began to fade as couples drifted off to explore the castle's many hidden nooks and crannies, leaving Harry and Daphne to dance in a world of their own.
As the clock struck midnight, signalling the end of the Yule Ball, Harry reluctantly pulled away from Daphne, his fingers lingering on her waist for a moment longer than necessary.
"Thank you for tonight," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's been... magical," she joked.
The flickering torchlight danced on the stone walls as Harry walked Daphne to her dormitory. The tension between them was as tangible as the cool night air, and Harry found himself feeling a mix of attraction and confusion towards the enigmatic girl at his side.
"Harry," Daphne said softly, breaking the silence that had settled over them like a thick fog. 'Thank you for tonight. Its meant a lot to me.'
Harry glanced at her, noting the way her ice blue eyes shimmered in the dim light. He remembered what he'd discovered in the Black Library all those months ago – mages were not compatible with other mages, their magic didn't work well together. His heart pounded in his chest, uncertainty gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.
"Of course, Daphne," he replied, forcing a smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
They stopped before the entrance to her dormitory, the heavy wooden door standing like a barrier between them. Despite the knowledge weighing on him, Harry couldn't resist the magnetic pull he felt towards Daphne. He tentatively raised his hand and cupped her cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. He understood the tradition, and he could not deny feeling something for the Greengrass heiress, and so, he swallowed any fear.
"Goodnight, Daphne," he whispered, leaning in to press a delicate kiss upon her lips.
She closed her eyes, the ghost of a smile on her face as she leaned in to meet his lips with her own. She mentally scolded herself as she moaned. The second their lips met a pulse of magic flared from Harry and into hers. It tingled her skin, caused her own magic to flare, and her thighs to clamped together.
For a brief moment, their desire for each other flared to life, palpable in the charged air surrounding them. The kiss stirred something deep within Harry, causing his magic to surge through his veins. He felt Daphne's arousal respond in kind, their energies intertwining like strands of silk. And unbeknownst to them both, a web of swirling blue light flickered to life behind them.
Albeit briefly.
Daphne's cheeks flushed a deep red as she broke away from the kiss, her breathing slightly laboured.
"Goodnight, Harry," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. As she turned to walk through the doorway, Harry noticed the way she moved awkwardly, her arousal evident in every step. He could have sworn he saw the outline of her nipples pressing against the fabric of her thin dress. He had wondered how she hid the straps to her bra. She didn't, he realised. They were simply non-existent.
His heart ached with longing and uncertainty as he watched her disappear into the dormitory, unable to shake the foreboding feeling that lingered in the back of his mind.
"Good night, Miss Greengrass," Harry whispered.
As Harry walked back to the Gryffindor common room, the dimly lit corridors seemed to echo with the memory of his kiss with Daphne. He couldn't help but replay the moment in his mind, his arousal still simmering beneath the surface. Despite the potential consequences looming over them, mage magic is incompatible, he couldn't deny the connection he felt with her. He just wasn't sure if it went beyond a friendship that may occasionally teeter on the edge of friendship.
As his mind was clouded with thoughts of his relationships. His senses warned him that someone was watching him nearby.
"Harry?" a voice whispered from the shadows, startling him out of his thoughts. He glimpsed strands of auburn in the pitch of an old abandoned classroom. He pushed through the door and closed it behind him.
Emerging from the darkness, wearing nothing more than a sheer negligee that left little to the imagination, her green eyes sparkling with a mixture of desire and mischief as she looked at him. "I've been waiting for you."
It was his Lily.
"Lily, what are you doing?" Harry asked, attempting to keep his voice steady as his gaze wandered over her scantily clad form.
"Can't I surprise my lover?" She teased.
"Lily, there are plenty of people walking the corridors, the ball just ended, this isn't –" he began, only to be cut off by Lily's finger pressing against his lips.
"Shh, just enjoy the surprise," she whispered, her warm breath sending shivers down his spine.
Harry's heart raced as he watched his mother saunter over to a desk, her hips swaying seductively. She leaned forward, placing her hands on the wooden surface, bending over to showcase her curvaceous figure. The sight of her naked flesh beneath the transparent fabric was both intoxicating and alarming, leaving him torn between his desires and the fear of getting caught. Exposing their relationship.
"Like what you see, Harry?" Lily asked, her voice sultry, as she glanced over her shoulder. The provocative image made it increasingly difficult for him to resist her advances.
"Lily, we shouldn't…" Harry trailed off, his words laced with uncertainty as he fought the urge to give in to temptation.
"Harry, sometimes we need to embrace our desires," Lily said, her voice soft yet persuasive. "I know I've given in to every single one since you told me your secret."
His resolve wavered as his mother's words echoed in his head. As much as he wanted to resist, he was still horny from his kiss with Daphne. He had only been expelling his magic when training with Daphne, which was proving to be barely an exercise as Daphne had been struggling with keeping up her magic whilst duelling.
So, he was pretty pent up. His body ached with desire, his arousal refusing to be ignored any longer. He hesitated. But only for a moment.
As Harry looked into her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him. He had missed her warmth, of hearing her moan his name as he came inside of her depths.
"What if we get caught?" he asked, his voice shaking with uncertainty.
"I don't care," Lily replied, her green eyes filled with desire.
Feeling emboldened by her assurance, Harry closed the distance between them and tentatively placed his hands on her hips. The fabric of her attire was thin, leaving little to the imagination as his fingers traced her curves. He watched her reactions closely, unable to look away from her flushed face.
"Touch me, Harry," she whispered, her breaths coming out in short gasps. "Please."
Giving in to his desires, Harry slipped his hand beneath the hem of her dress, feeling her smooth skin beneath his fingertips. The naughtiness of their actions only heightened his arousal, making it nearly impossible to think straight. Unable to resist any longer, he found himself pulling her closer, pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss.
Their bodies moved together in a rhythm both familiar and foreign. With every touch, every caress, the connection between them seemed to strengthen, their magic intertwining and feeding off one another's energy.
Lily moaned as she lightly grabbed Harry's hand, guiding his hand lower until he could feel her wetness. She moaned softly as he teased her clit, her hips bucking slightly in response.
"Take me, Harry," she urged, her voice thick with want.
He hesitated for only a moment before pulling his cock free from his robes, positioning himself behind her and slowly pushing inside, filling her completely. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. It was his first time having sex in school, and the thrill of their forbidden act only added to the intensity of the moment.
Together, they moved as one, their bodies slick with perspiration and desire, lost in a world where nothing else mattered but the sensations they were sharing. As Harry felt himself nearing the edge, he slipped out of Lily just in time, she knew the routine. She fell to her knees, pressed her breasts together and opened her mouth willingly, tongue out waiting as she looked up to him with hooded eyes. With a few more pumps he released his seed onto her face. She yelped in surprise and delight as she began licking herself clean.
Once she was satisfied, she smacked her lips in satisfaction and rose to her feet. She clasped Harry's hand in hers and kissed his cheek. The two Potter's locked emerald eyes. She could feel the dampness between her legs moisten with each passing second as his magic called out to her. And what turned her on more was that he didn't know he was doing it half the time.
"Harry," she whispered breathlessly, "I have something important to tell you."
"What is it?" he asked, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
"I'm pregnant."
The words hit him like a tidal wave, leaving him momentarily stunned. In that moment he realised the impact of his activities. He would be lying if he said that he had been educated. He knew that sex was something fun, and that it made babies, but he had never really joined the two thoughts together.
Fuck. I am such a virgin, he chided himself. He made a mental note to research pregnancy next.
He realised that as his mind was reeling, Lily was still waiting for him, her eyes searching his.
As the shock began to subside, Harry found himself filled with a sense of joy and excitement. He had always wanted a family, and though this was not exactly how he'd envisioned it happening (he hoped that the threat of Voldemort would have gone by this point), although, the thought of raising a child with Lily did make his heart swell.
He imagined his pools of magic, and followed the trail to Lily's, and could see the thinnest of threads teetering away, forming the smallest of puddles. Their love and magic was creating new life within her.
"Really?" he breathed, unable to contain his happiness.
"Yes," she smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. "And I couldn't be happier… are… you?"
Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, Harry's heart raced as he drew her into his arms, their love radiating through the intimate connection of their lips. Their tender kiss spoke volumes, each gentle brush conveying a depth of affection that transcended words. As they reluctantly parted, Harry, overcome by desire, guided Lily onto the smooth surface of the desk, their bodies melding together once again. This time, their lovemaking unfolded with a deliberate slowness, every movement infused with a passionate intensity.
Lily's voice, a soft murmur filled with tenderness, caressed Harry's ears. "Harry," she whispered, her words carrying the weight of her devotion, "I love you."
Their bodies continued to sway in perfect harmony, a symphony of longing and fulfillment. A warmth blossomed within Harry's chest, spreading like a comforting embrace that enveloped them both. With every measured thrust, Lily's pleasure intensified, cascading over her like a tidal wave. Her cries of ecstasy pierced the air, mingling with the crackling sound of chairs spontaneously igniting into flames, casting an orange glow that illuminated her hair.
Taking a moment to savor the culmination of their passion, Harry cradled Lily in his arm, drawing her close to him. Her ample bosom pressed against his firm chest, their rapid breaths intermingling as they sought solace in each other's embrace. Lips met once more in a fervent kiss, but it was his precise rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through Lily's body, causing her to arch her back and release throaty moans that echoed in the empty classroom.
"Mast—H-Harry," she groaned, her voice a delicious blend of desperation and desire, "p-please! Reward me."
The plea hung in the air like an invitation, urging Harry further into a realm of shared bliss.
He grabbed her ass, holding a cheek in each hand and lifted her up off the table, allowing him to sink deeper into her, and causing her to be above him, looking down to him, her mouth agape and her eyes wide.
"Y-you don't need a reward," Harry grunted. "You have… b-blessed me with a family… you…" he could feel his peak approaching fast. "Ungh!"
He slowly lowered the two down to the wooden floor. The pair using Harry's discarded robe as a blanket, him still inside, thrusting gently into her.
"Thank you," she whispered as they lay entwined in each other's arms. "For everything."
Harry could only smile in response.
"Harry...I… love you," Lily whispered, breathing each word out with each thrust from her son, her emerald green eyes locked onto his as they moved together in a slow, tender rhythm.
"I love you too, Lily," Harry replied, his voice soft and filled with emotion.
As their bodies continued to intertwine, Harry lost himself in the intricate dance of their lovemaking. The sensation of Lily's velvety warmth enveloping him, combined with the loving gaze of her eyes, only made Harry feel every movement.
"Ugh, Harry...y-you're amazing," Lily moaned, her nails digging into his back as she clung to him for support. Her breathy sighs mingled with his own heavy panting, creating an intimate soundtrack that echoed through the dimly lit classroom.
"Me? You're incredible," he marvelled at the way her body seemed to fit him like a glove. As they moved together, he could feel the familiar pressure building inside him, urging him towards his second release.
"Close..." he murmured, feeling the telltale signs of his impending climax approaching.
"Let go, Harry," Lily encouraged, her voice strained with pleasure, her fingers threading into his hair. "Give yourself to me."
With a guttural groan, Harry surrendered to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him, releasing deep inside of Lily as their bodies convulsed together in ecstasy. A golden glow pulsing outwards, her stomach swelling from his cum, looking as though she were pregnant.
The air snapped with power as more furniture erupted in flames, and, Lily could have sworn that a bolt of lighting jetted down just outside the window, and Harry's muscles bulged and rippled beneath his skin.
"Wow," he panted, collapsing against her sweat-slicked chest as they both struggled to catch their breath.
"Agreed," Lily gasped, her fingers gently caressing his damp hair. "That was...indescribable."
"Thank you, Lily," Harry whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her collarbone.
"Always," she replied, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm so proud of the man you've become, Harry."
As they lay there, tangled together in the aftermath of their passion, Harry couldn't help but reflect on his extraordinary life. He had faced unimaginable challenges and triumphed over insurmountable odds, but perhaps the most incredible aspect of his journey was the love he had found along the way.
"Can't believe how lucky I am," he mused, thinking about the beautiful women who had entered his life – not just Lily, but Tonks, Samantha, Narcissa, and others yet to come.
"Sometimes, it feels like a dream," Lily agreed, snuggling closer to him as they basked in the afterglow of their intimate encounter.
"Maybe it is," Harry pondered, feeling contentment wash over him like a warm embrace. "But if this is a dream, I never want to wake up."