For the second time ever, Harry Apparated to Greengrass Manor. Daphne let him in at the door. She had dark circles under her eyes but her hair and makeup were flawless. Let it never be said that Daphne Greengrass neglected her appearance.
"Good. You're here." In spite of her looks, Daphne's voice was weary. "Come in."
Harry limped into the foyer. Daphne closed the door behind him. For a moment she stood still and sighed.
"You said you had a problem?" Harry asked.
Daphne was still hard at work scouting potential allies. It had been half a week since their last meeting in Harry's kitchen. Daphne called by Floo that morning to request his help, although she skipped the details on what exactly the problem was.
"Yes. A most aggravating one," Daphne said. "It's been keeping me up at night. Truthfully, I'm finding it difficult to focus on anything for as long as this persists."
"It sounds serious."
"Seriously aggravating," Daphne grumbled. "I'd like it solved. As fast as possible."
She started walking, matching her pace to Harry's, so he took the cue to follow her. The two of them went upstairs.
"Is it interference from Crouch or Yaxley's faction?" Harry probed.
"Neither."
"Then could it be Bellatrix? What exactly is the problem?"
Daphne stopped abruptly. She was in front of a door— the only closed one on the second floor hallway. Strange noises could be heard within.
"The problem is that I have an ungrateful squatter who doesn't know how to stay quiet!" Daphne said. "Please, shut her up for me. I will be trying to get work done in my office if you need me."
Daphne marched down the hall to another room and entered, shutting the door behind her. Harry stared at the room she'd led him to.
"Shut her up?" he muttered.
He knocked on the door.
Without Daphne's voice muddling it, he was able to make out the noises he was hearing from inside the room. It was a woman's voice, crying. The tears stopped after a louder sniff. Harry waited. Eventually there came footsteps, and the door opened.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Oh it's— hic! Just you," said Astoria Greengrass.
Unlike Daphne, her blond hair had not been styled. It was matted in places, though that didn't reduce her natural beauty. Instead of dark circles like her sister, Astoria's eyes were bloodshot. She had shrugged a bathrobe on that only mostly covered her body. Harry's nose twitched. Scents were wafting out the open door like a flood. The room reeked of alcohol and arousal.
"Why are you here?" Harry asked.
"I don't only take your orders. I can make my own choices," Astoria slurred. "Why am I here? This is my room. Just because Daphne took over the family doesn't mean she can take this from me. It's where I grew up. It's mine, got it?"
That was the most Harry had ever heard Astoria say in one go.
"Okay. It's your room. But you don't live here anymore. You have a husband and a home."
Astoria laughed.
"Why do you think I'd be here?" she said. "It's because I couldn't stand that husband or that home anymore. I'm running away. Does that make you happy, hearing me sound pathetic?"
"No," Harry said. "I don't think about you. Whether you're happy or pathetic hardly affects my mood. I just need you to stop bothering your sister. You're hindering her work."
"Is that what Daphne said? That's just like her." Astoria sneered. "How can I be hindering her work when I haven't left my room?"
"She said that you're being too loud."
Astoria froze with her mouth open. She blushed. Harry didn't need to ask what she'd been up to; he could smell it all over the air.
Astoria turned around and retreated into her room. Since she didn't close the door, Harry took it as a sign that he was meant to follow her.
The inside of the room was decorated in a perfectly average way. The walls were painted green — an appropriate shade for a Slytherin pureblood — there were only two posters — a family tree and a painting of the lake that lay below the manor — and it had only three pieces of furniture— a bed, dresser, and bookshelf. Harry's eyes flitted over the book names. All romances, based on the titles.
Astoria flopped onto her bed, sitting without crossing her legs. There were no chairs, so Harry remained standing.
"Perhaps I asked the wrong question earlier," Harry said. "Why are you here now?"
Astoria smirked. She liked this phrasing better.
"Because it became too much for me," she said. "I held on for so long, but Dracoonly gets worse. He has no hobbies except locking his office door. I used to at least see him at meals. They were the highlight of my day— a time I could pretend we were a family. That ended when his mother ran off with you. Now he has his meals brought to his room. I believe he makes the slave feed him, then cries into her bosom."
Harry withheld a wince.
"I won't apologize, if that's what you're hoping for. I've done what I must for my goals."
Astoria tilted her head back, and laughed. "Why would I want your apology? He's the pathetic one. I can hardly blame Narcissa for running from a Malfoy man. But… can't you get rid of her?"
Harry understood that she didn't mean Narcissa. There was only one woman Astoria longed to see disappear. "You're aware that I've been freeing slaves?"
Astoria smiled. "Oh, please. I've seen the way you looked at Lavender and rest. You've always hated that system, no matter how much you tried hiding your distaste. Though… before overhearing Daphne's work here, I never would have guessed the scale you're operating on. So can't you whisk her away already? Throw Lavender in a better place and give me my husband back!"
"I can't do that," Harry said.
"Why in Merlin's name not?"
"Because Draco didn't use the Emporium's specialists. He insisted on casting the Imperius himself, probably as a symbol of his competence. It's why the curse on her is subpar. The victim's eyes are not supposed to be cloudy the way that Lavender's are. We could put the effort in to steal her away, but she'll remain his slave until the curse is broken."
"Maybe you could trick him into it?" Astoria said. "Or maybe—!"
She bit her lip. Astoria looked at the floor, presumably burdened by her lack of options.
"So long ago, I was actually happy…" she said.
Harry shifted. It's not that emotional people made him uncomfortable, per se, he just wasn't sure how he was intended to react. Daphne brought him here — for some reason — to calm her sister down. Compounding her sorrows by making the wrong move would only set things back.
Fortunately, Astoria didn't need him to say anything. She was eager to talk.
"I was so happy. Thrilled, even. As the second daughter, an arranged marriage was guaranteed. For Draco to be made mine… He was the most popular boy in Slytherin. Handsome, older than me… It was more than I ever expected. It was what I dreamed of."
Harry's eyes drifted to Astoria's girlhood bookshelf, laden with books of romance.
"Fantasies are dangerous. They leave you ill-prepared for reality."
"Please. You're wasting breathing telling me that now," Astoria said. "My life would have been better with anyone else, even some fat rich bastard. At least then I wouldn't have had hope."
She spat the word like a foul curse. As someone who had lived most of his life without it, Harry could commiserate.
"If only it never happened," Astoria said. "If only I'd never been his."
Looking at her, Harry was reminded of Pansy. Their sorrows resembled each other, even though they were for opposite reasons— one resented losing Draco, and the other wished she'd never won him.
Harry felt that he'd done all he could. If Daphne wanted him to comfort her sister, she had gone to the wrong person. His best efforts were liable to make matters worse.
"I understand your vices. Indulge in them as you please. But do promise to do so more quietly," Harry said.
"You're telling me to shut up?" Astoria asked quietly.
"I didn't use those words." Harry turned to leave.
Astoria caught his hand.
She had gotten up and lunged. When Harry looked back, her bathrobe had fallen dangerously low on her figure.
"Make me," Astoria said.
"I do have ways of making you if I must—"
"You know what I mean, bastard! Do you want me to say it out loud? Beg for it?"
Harry stared at Astoria. "You're asking me to sleep with you."
"Can't I?" Astoria tilted her chin back, trying to look striking. "Draco has his needs. Well, so do I. Do you have any idea how long it's been since he touched me?"
"So you come to me?"
"There aren't exactly a profusion of men in my orbit. If you're keeping me under your thumb, the least you can do is take care of me."
"I don't know if you've forgotten," Harry said, "but you're under my thumb because you plotted against me. You very nearly ripped away the thing I hold most dear. Yet here you are, standing in front of me, requesting that I sleep with you."
"Are you saying no?" Astoria brushed part of her hair behind her shoulder. "I was the most attractive Slytherin in my year. There's a reason that Draco wanted me. You'll turn that down?"
Astoria's lust had been the main source of her noise, if Harry had to guess. From the smell inside the room she had been masturbating over and over. Her cries had leaked through the walls, disturbing Daphne. In an unexpected way, the perfect solution to Daphne's request had fallen into Harry's lap.
He leaned down, looking Astoria straight in the eye, who stared defiantly back at him.
"I have not forgiven you," he said. "I don't believe I have it in me to be gentle."
Astoria smiled. "Even better."
Harry forced her onto her knees.
He merely had to push. Astoria Greengrass was not the strongest girl. She hit the floorboards hard enough to bruise her kneecaps. Harry formed her blond locks into a ponytail by grabbing it right behind her scalp. Astoria hissed when she felt the stinging on the back of her head.
"Retrieve it," he said.
Astoria lifted shaky hands. She brushed Harry's robes open and slid his belt off. Popping his pants open, she pushed past his underwear, bringing out his penis.
It wasn't the first time she saw it. Along with Fleur and Susan, she had peaked through the window downstairs and watched her sister ride him. Astoria had shied away from the sight back then. This time, she brought her head closer, staring at Harry's manhood with unbridled want.
Blood flowed into it as it swelled in front of her face. Astoria leaned forward, seemingly to sniff it. Harry shoved her even closer.
With the hand he had behind her head, Harry held Astoria's face on his hardening length. She could feel it growing, pressing into her cheek. The scent filled her nostrils. Astoria put both hands inside her robe and masturbated to his musk.
When he was hard, Harry pulled Astoria away. She looked sorry to see his cock go, but they weren't kept separate long. Harry pushed her forward, forcing her to open her mouth, and speared his way into her throat.
"Gluuuuuu-urk! Ulk, ulk ulk, Uh~!"
Astoria gagged each time Harry's tip hit her. She was still masturbating; her fingers had gotten even faster than they had been. Her robe was coming undone and falling off her body. At the moment it was only hanging onto her elbows. Astoria wore nothing underneath it. She had her eyes closed, withstanding the assault her throat was undergoing.
Harry wrenched her off his dick. Astoria gasped and drooled as her mouth was suddenly freed. Before she could adjust, Harry slapped her across the face. Her cheek turned pink. As it stung, Harry jammed her back on his cock.
"Ulk! Ulk! Ulk!"
This time, Astoria kept her eyes open. She was on the lookout for where the next slap would come from. Her eyes were watering. She hadn't been wearing any makeup to be ruined, so they merely dripped from her blue eyes in clear streams.
"Draco is a fool," Harry said. "He's obsessed with a slave that he bought against her will when a woman like you chose to be with him. Look how eagerly you see to a man's needs. Even one that you hate."
Astoria gurgled something that was likely meant to be an insult. But no matter how irritated she became (or pretended to be) she dutifully kept her teeth pulled out of the way. She knew that grazing him would put an end to the blowjob. She didn't want that. Right now, on her knees, she was getting exactly what she wanted.
"Gulck~ Gulck~ Gulck~!"
Harry dragged her head back and slapped her twice more while he used her throat. Finally, he tightened his hold on her hair.
He made sure that Astoria's head was stationary and stopped pushing her. She stared at him with her throat full of his cock. That was, until Harry pulled his hips back and thrusted.
He moved his feet so that he was standing with them spread and parallel to Astoria's shoulders. Each thrust slammed his crotch into her face, pressing her nose down and choking away her air. Astoria's fingers sped up, touching herself harder. She was leaking a puddle of juices onto the bedroom floor. Spit ran down her face and dripped onto her modest breasts. Her petite body was dwarfed by Harry. He kept thrusting.
Astoria was no longer able to keep her eyes open. She shut them and did her best to hang on. Every thrust bulged her neck and smeared a new layer of spit onto the uppermost area of Harry's thighs. He rested the hand that wasn't holding her hair on the side of Astoria's throat. This way, when he thrusted, he could feel the shape of himself.
It was of little surprise when he came in less than ten minutes, given the intensity of Astoria's treatment.
Harry pulled out before he came. He let his cock flop against Astoria's face like another blow. His cockhead spasmed and squirted out a stream of cum. The first spurt launched a glob onto Astoria's forehead. The rest dripped out, like lava overflowing the cauldron of a volcano, and dripped down her face. Her eyelids fluttered as cum dripped across them.
Harry finally let go of Astoria. She turned to the side and collapsed onto her hands, sucking up the air she had been denied.
Her bathrobe looked almost like a belt at this point, bunched around her waist. Her bum's pale flesh was exposed along with her lithe back. Harry yanked his clothes off and descended on her.
He dragged her robe off, pulling it over her arms one at a time. Astoria looked back at him, but he grabbed her hair again, this time forcing her head down.
He just looked at her. With a quiet, high-pitched noise, Astoria raised her lower body for him. Head down and arse up, she awaited the man's touch she'd been longing for. Her pussy lips glinted with spilled juices… as did the fingers she had planted on the floor.
"Fuck me already," Astoria begged.
First, Harry took a moment to grope her arse one cheek at a time. He squeezed them, found them perky, then delivered a heavy slap. Her bum was bouncy, too. Satisfied with his inspection, Harry thrusted into her from behind.
Astoria's backside jiggled the way it had after his slap. Her body jolted forward, pressing her chin into the smooth wood floor.
"Brute~" she hissed, feeling her cervix take its first hit.
He was a brute. He had a beast inside of him. One that this woman, for her own ends, nearly let loose on Fleur. For once, Harry didn't fight the wolf instincts that he kept buried inside. He would give Astoria a taste of what she meddled with.
His fingers tightened in her hair as if they were tipped with claws. His hips moved at a pace beyond that of an ordinary human, drawing on every bit of strength and speed his ritual-enhanced body was endowed with. The meaty hits of his pelvis into Astoria resounded through the room. There was nowhere for her to move, either. Each time her body began to slide away, Harry dragged her back by her blond hair.
And Astoria liked it.
It was possible she was just that starved of touch. Or she had discovered a set of tastes that would have lain dormant her whole life had Draco never neglected her. Whatever the case, she was soon cumming.
Harry spanked her. Once, twice, thrice, four times— he hammered his palm onto her ass. Astoria moaned, but she didn't complain. Her hair was being held back, keeping her neck taut. Her pussy continued to grow wetter without end. She was leaking on the floor, excess essence dripping from the top of her lower lips.
At some point, Astoria started to laugh.
She sounded giddy despite the way her body must have been stinging. She kept laughing, and laughing…
"Is something funny?" Harry growled.
Astoria shook her head as much as she could with him holding her hair.
"Not… funny. Just exciting!"
The exclamation made Harry blink. Out of every pureblood he knew, it was possibly only Astoria that understood his feelings about their post-war world. She had seen its ugliness closer than any other. To someone accustomed to such a cold life, blistering lovemaking would still feel like an unfamiliar warmth.
Despite their odd camaraderie, Harry could not forgive her so easily. She could have cost Fleur her life. She could have made his worst memory come true for a second time. Harry flipped Astoria onto her back.
His hands grasped her throat. He was not so rabid as to do lasting harm, but he certainly squeezed. Her airflow constricted. Her eyelids twitched on her pretty face as Harry held her and thrusted, repeatedly, with all the strength he could muster. Astoria's thighs hooked on Harry's waist, her feet sticking behind his body.
He pounded her, holding her just tight enough to make her doubt if she could breathe, and pounded her flowing pussy. Astoria's orgasms multiplied. Her modest, palm-sized breasts rolled in circles as her body was jolted. Her lower half spasmed with increasing strength. Soon, she wrapped her legs around Harry's waist and squeezed.
Harry came straight inside of her. There was no reason to pull out for her. Astoria could deal with any fallout on her own; there were potions for it that weren't that expensive.
Harry pulled out of her depths. As soon as his cock was out, it let a torrent of her essence and his cum spill out. When Harry took his hands off Astoria's throat, he noticed that she was no longer conscious. He never completely robbed her of air, so she must have lost consciousness from the pleasure. Staring at her sleeping face, a moderate smile gracing her lips, he sighed, his anger losing its edge.
He scooped her up and took her off the floor, placing her back on her bed. From the smell of her sheets they had already absorbed plenty of her discharge over the last few days, so a bit more wouldn't hurt.
Harry stared at Astoria's sleeping body. With a beleaguered sigh, he adjusted the sheets to cover her body.
"I recall asking you to quiet her down. Instead, you made her louder than ever."
Daphne had opened the door and slipped inside. She leaned against the wall, and despite her words wore a teasing smile.
"A short term problem while creating a long term solution," Harry said.
"You've always got an answer for everything." Daphne stared at Astoria's sleeping face. "She hasn't changed a bit since we were kids. When she wants something, she makes herself a nuisance to everyone else until she gets it. Well, you got it now. Are you happy, brat?"
Astoria, of course, could not answer.
"You care about her," Harry said.
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "What could I have done to give that impression? It certainly hasn't been my demeanor."
"You could have thrown her out. You let her stay. You called me."
"A fortunate string of accidents," Daphne sniffed. "Now, you can see yourself out on your own, I assume? We're both busy people, and I am far behind on work."
Although she said that, by the time Harry re-dressed and left, she was still loitering. It occurred to Harry as he descended the stairs that Astoria's childhood room had not been touched, even though she moved out.
"Honestly," he mumbled with a smirk. "Would it hurt you to be a bit honest?"