The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound in the drawing room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, casting long shadows across the dusty furniture and peeling wallpaper. Harry sat slumped in an armchair, a half-empty bottle of Ogden’s Finest dangling from his fingers, staring into the flames with hollow eyes.
Christmas Eve. The most wonderful time of the year, according to everyone who wasn’t him.
The war had been over for months now, but the emptiness remained. The house was quiet, oppressively so. Kreacher had died shortly after the final battle, and Harry hadn’t had the heart to replace him. So here he sat, alone in a crumbling mansion that still smelled faintly of dark magic and regret.
Happy fucking Christmas, he thought bitterly, taking another swig from the bottle.
He had turned down invitations from the Weasleys, from Hermione, from half the wizarding world who wanted to celebrate with the Chosen One. But Harry couldn’t bring himself to play the hero, to smile and pretend everything was fine when the faces of the dead still haunted his dreams.
The flames in the fireplace suddenly roared green, and Harry sat up straighter, his hand instinctively going to his wand. Who the hell would be flooing him on Christmas Eve?
A figure emerged from the flames, and Harry’s breath caught in his throat.
Narcissa Malfoy stepped gracefully into his drawing room like she owned the place, brushing imaginary soot from her dress with an elegant flick of her wrist. And Merlin’s beard, what a dress it was.
The gown was a deep emerald green that seemed to shimmer in the firelight, clinging to every curve of her figure like it had been painted on. The bodice was cut scandalously low, her impressive breasts threatening to spill out with every breath. They were magnificent, Harry couldn’t help but notice. Full and round, with creamy pale skin that practically glowed against the dark fabric. The dress cinched at her tiny waist before flaring out over her hips, the material so thin he could see the outline of her legs through it.
Her hair was immaculate as always, that distinctive black with silver streaks falling past her shoulders in a perfectly straight sheet. Her bright blue eyes found his immediately, a small smile playing on her full lips.
“Potter,” she said, her voice like honey and smoke. “You look dreadful.”
Harry blinked, still trying to process the fact that Narcissa Malfoy was standing in his drawing room, looking like every man’s wet dream. “Mrs. Malfoy? What are you… why are you here?”
“Narcissa, please,” she corrected, moving further into the room. The way she walked was hypnotic, her hips swaying with each step, drawing his eyes to the generous curve of her arse beneath that sinful dress. “I heard you were spending Christmas alone. I couldn’t allow that.”
She was carrying a wrapped package in her hands, and as she approached his chair, she leaned down to place it on the side table beside him.
Harry’s brain short-circuited.
From this angle, looking up at her, he had a devastating view straight down her dress. Her breasts hung heavy and full, the deep cleavage creating a valley that seemed to go on forever. The dress was barely containing them, the fabric straining against her flesh, and Harry could see the dark circles of her areolae just peeking above the edge of the bodice.
Sweet Merlin, he thought, his cock twitching in his trousers. They’re going to fall out. Any second now, those magnificent tits are going to just… pop free…
He held his breath, waiting, praying to whatever deity would listen.
But they didn’t. The dress held, somehow, against all odds and the laws of physics.
Narcissa straightened up with a knowing smile, as if she was perfectly aware of what she’d just shown him. “A small gift,” she said, gesturing to the package. “To thank you for what you did for my family.”
Harry tore his eyes away from her chest with considerable effort. “You already thanked me at the trials,” he managed. “You didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to,” she interrupted, her voice soft. “You saved my son. You spoke for us when no one else would. I am in your debt, Potter.”
She moved around his chair, trailing her fingers along the back of it, her perfume washing over him. Floral and expensive, the scent invaded his senses and made his head swim.
“Open it,” she encouraged, coming to stand beside him.
Harry reached for the package, hyper-aware of how close she was. Her hip was almost brushing his shoulder, and if he turned his head just slightly, his face would be level with those incredible breasts.
He unwrapped the gift with clumsy fingers, revealing an ornate wooden box. Inside, nestled in velvet, was a pocket watch made of what appeared to be solid gold.
“It belonged to my grandfather,” Narcissa explained, leaning down again to point at some detail on the watch.
And there they were again. Those tits, hanging right in front of his face, defying gravity and decency in equal measure. Harry could see the fabric of her dress straining, could see the way her flesh pressed against the confines of the bodice. One deep breath, he thought desperately. One sneeze, one sudden movement, and those magnificent breasts would be free.
His cock was fully hard now, straining painfully against his trousers. If she looked down, she would see exactly how her presence was affecting him.
“It’s beautiful,” Harry croaked, not looking at the watch at all.
Narcissa smiled, straightening up once more. “I’m glad you like it. I should be going, however. I only meant to stop by briefly.”
No, Harry’s cock screamed. Don’t leave yet!
“Thank you,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. “For thinking of me.”
Narcissa turned toward the fireplace, and Harry’s eyes immediately dropped to her arse. The dress clung to it like a second skin, revealing every curve, every bounce as she walked. It was round and full, the kind of arse that made men do stupid things.
She reached the fireplace and paused, looking back at him over her shoulder with those piercing blue eyes. “Happy Christmas, Potter. Try not to wallow too much in self-pity, won’t you?”
Then she turned back to the fireplace and reached for the small bowl of Floo powder that would get her home.
The bowl was positioned unpractically low on the mantelpiece, almost at floor level. Harry had always meant to move it but had never bothered. Now, watching Narcissa bend to retrieve it, he was suddenly very grateful for his laziness.
She bent at the waist, keeping her legs perfectly straight, and time seemed to slow.
The hem of her dress began to rise.
First her calves came into view, shapely and pale. Then the backs of her knees. Then her thighs, creamy and smooth, seemingly endless as the dress climbed higher and higher.
Harry held his breath.
Higher.
Higher.
Harry watched, transfixed, as the green fabric slid up and over her arse cheeks like a curtain being drawn back to reveal a masterpiece.
Sweet fucking Merlin.
She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
Her pussy was completely bare, smooth and pink, glistening slightly in the firelight. He could see everything. The plump lips of her cunt, slightly parted, the tight little pucker of her arsehole above it winking at him in apparent greeting. She was bent over right in front of him, presenting herself like a gift from the gods themselves, and something inside Harry’s brain simply… snapped.
He didn’t consciously do anything, didn’t even think about it. But he could feel his magic reaching out, aggressive and primal, snaking around her legs like invisible chains. The war had awakened something in him, a raw magical power that sometimes acted on its own, responding to his deepest desires.
And right now, his deepest desire was to bury himself in that perfect cunt and never come out.
Narcissa grabbed a fistful of Floo powder and threw it into the flames, which roared green. “Malfoy Manor!” she called, stepping forward.
Or at least she tried to.
Harry’s magic had coiled around her ankles, holding them firmly in place. Her upper body pitched forward from the momentum, but her legs remained rooted to the spot. She stumbled, arms windmilling, and fell face-first into the green flames.
The Floo tried to activate, Harry could feel the magic pulling at her, but his chains held fast. She was stuck half in and half out, her upper body sucked through to Malfoy Manor while her lower half remained firmly in his drawing room.
And what a lower half it was.
Her legs kicked frantically, those long, elegant limbs flailing as she tried to free herself. Her dress had bunched up around her waist, leaving her entire arse and pussy completely exposed. The view was absolutely obscene. Her perfect round cheeks jiggling with each kick, her pink cunt glistening and on full display, that tight little arsehole clenching and unclenching in panic.
Harry stood slowly, his eyes fixed on the spectacular sight before him. His cock was so hard it hurt, straining against his trousers like a caged beast.
I should help her, a distant part of his brain whispered. This is wrong. I should release the magic and let her go.
But that voice was drowned out by the roar of blood in his ears, by the primal need that had seized control of his body. He moved toward her as if drawn by an invisible force, his feet carrying him forward without conscious thought.
She was still kicking, her legs scissoring in the air, giving him glimpses of her cunt from every angle. Her skin was flushed now, whether from embarrassment or the awkward position he couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that Narcissa Malfoy’s perfect pussy was right there, waiting for him.
Harry reached out and placed a hand on her arse, feeling her body jerk at his touch.
He couldn’t hear anything from her. Her head and upper body were at Malfoy Manor, probably screaming into an empty room if the Malfoys were out celebrating Christmas Eve elsewhere. But he could see her legs still, kicking harder now, her feet trying to find purchase on the floor.
“Shh,” Harry murmured, running his hand over her smooth skin. “Stop fighting.”
Of course she couldn’t hear him either. But she felt his touch, felt his hands exploring her exposed flesh, and her kicking became more frantic.
Harry gripped both of her arse cheeks and spread them apart, revealing her most intimate places to his hungry gaze. Her pussy was even prettier up close, plump and pink and clearly wet despite the circumstances. Her arousal glistened on her thighs, and Harry wondered if she had been wet before she got stuck, or if being exposed like this had turned her on.
Not that it mattered.
He swiped a finger through her folds, feeling her body shudder at the contact. She was absolutely dripping, her juices coating his finger immediately. He found her clit, swollen and sensitive, and circled it slowly, watching her legs tremble in response.
Such a pretty little cunt, he thought, pushing a finger inside her. So wet for me. Did you want this, Narcissa? Is that why you came here, dressed like a whore, showing off those magnificent tits?
He added a second finger, pumping them slowly in and out, curling them to find that spot that made women scream. Her legs went rigid, her toes curling, and he knew he’d found it.
But as good as his fingers felt buried in her tight heat, Harry wanted more. He needed more.
With his free hand, he undid his trousers, letting them fall to the floor. His cock sprang free, massive and throbbing, already leaking pre-cum from the tip. He gave it a few strokes, spreading his pre-cum along the shaft, then positioned himself behind her.
The head of his cock kissed her entrance, and Harry paused for just a moment to savour the sight. Narcissa Malfoy, bent over and stuck in his fireplace, her cunt dripping wet and ready for him. It was like something out of his most depraved fantasies.
Then he pushed forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust.
Fucking hell.
She was tight. Incredibly tight. Her walls gripped his cock like a vice, squeezing him, milking him, trying to pull him deeper. Harry’s head fell back as the sensations washed over him, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.
Her legs went wild, kicking and flailing, but Harry held her steady. He pulled back slowly, watching his cock emerge glistening with her juices, then slammed forward again. Her whole body jerked from the impact, her arse jiggling magnificently.
He set a brutal pace, pounding into her without mercy. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mixed with the wet squelch of her cunt taking his cock over and over. Her legs had stopped kicking now, instead wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust.
That’s it, Harry thought savagely. Take it. Take my cock like the cock-hungry slut you are.
He watched her arse bounce with each thrust, hypnotised by the movement. Her skin was turning pink from the impact, and he could see his cock disappearing into her stretched cunt, could see her lips clinging to his shaft as he withdrew.
But there was something missing. He wanted to see her face, wanted to hear her moans, wanted to watch those magnificent tits bounce as he fucked her.
Making a decision, Harry grabbed her hips and pulled.
His magical chains released, and Narcissa came flying backward out of the fireplace, her body colliding with his. He caught her easily, one arm around her waist, the other grabbing a handful of her breast.
“FUCK!” Narcissa screamed the moment her head emerged from the flames, her voice hoarse and desperate. “MERLIN’S COCK, DON’T STOP! DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP!”
The sudden sound of her voice after the silence nearly made Harry cum on the spot. She was panting, moaning, her whole body trembling in his arms. Her dress was a ruined mess, bunched around her waist, her tits now fully spilled out of the bodice, bouncing freely as he continued to thrust into her from behind.
“You like that?” Harry growled in her ear, grabbing both of her breasts and squeezing hard. “Like being stuck in my fireplace, getting fucked like a common whore?”
“YES!” Narcissa screamed, pushing back against him. “Your cock… it’s so big! Stretching my cunt so good!”
Her breasts were even more magnificent than he’d imagined. Heavy and full in his hands, soft and warm, her nipples hard as diamonds against his palms. He pinched them roughly, making her cry out.
“I couldn’t stop staring at these tits,” Harry grunted, rolling them between his fingers. “The whole time you were here, teasing me, bending over. Did you do that on purpose? Flash me those perfect fucking tits?”
“Maybe,” Narcissa gasped, a wicked smile on her face despite the pleasure overwhelming her. “Maybe I wanted you to look. Maybe I wanted your young, hard cock inside me the moment I walked through that floo.”
Harry spun her around, his cock slipping out of her with a wet sound. Before she could protest, he lifted her up and slammed her against the wall, driving back inside her with one brutal thrust.
“OH FUCK!” Narcissa screamed, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms around his neck. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me harder! Use me!”
Harry obliged, pounding into her against the wall with everything he had. From this angle he could see everything. Her flushed face twisted in pleasure, her blue eyes glazed with lust, those magnificent tits bouncing with every thrust. She was stunning, a goddess of sex and desire, and she was all his.
“Such a dirty little witch,” Harry growled, his hips snapping forward relentlessly. “Coming to a young man’s house dressed like a whore. You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to bend you over and fuck you stupid!”
“YES!” Narcissa wailed. “I’ve wanted you since the trial! Wanted this big, fat cock splitting me open!”
Her cunt was clenching around him, her whole body tensing. Harry could feel she was close, could feel her walls fluttering around his shaft.
“Gonna cum for me?” he asked, driving into her harder. “Gonna cream all over my cock like the desperate slut you are?”
“YES! YES! I’M CUMMING! FUCK, I’M CUMMING!”
Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her pussy clamping down on his cock so hard it almost pushed him over the edge. She screamed, her body convulsing, her nails raking down his back as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.
Harry fucked her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she was a trembling, whimpering mess in his arms. Only when her cries had faded to soft moans did he slow his pace.
“Good girl,” he praised, still buried deep inside her. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
He carried her across the room, her legs still locked around his waist, his cock still throbbing inside her. He lowered her onto the dusty dining table, pushing her onto her back, her legs spread wide.
From this position, he could see everything. Her heaving breasts, flushed and heavy, topped with hard pink nipples. Her flat stomach rising and falling with each breath. And best of all, his cock buried to the hilt in her swollen, stretched cunt.
“Such a pretty picture,” Harry murmured, pulling back slowly and watching his shaft emerge glistening with her juices. “The great Narcissa Malfoy, spread out on my table like a Christmas feast.”
“Less talking,” Narcissa panted, reaching down to rub her clit. “More fucking.”
Harry grinned and slammed back into her, making her scream. He set a punishing pace, the table creaking beneath them, her tits bouncing wildly with each thrust. Narcissa was babbling now, a stream of filth pouring from her lips.
“So big! So fucking big! Splitting me open! Ruining me for other men! YES! RIGHT THERE! FUCK!”
Harry grabbed her ankles and pushed her legs back, folding her nearly in half. From this angle he could go even deeper, could feel her cervix kissing the tip of his cock with every thrust.
“Take it,” he commanded, his balls slapping against her arse. “Take every inch of my cock!”
“GIVE IT TO ME!” Narcissa screamed. “GIVE ME YOUR CUM! FILL ME UP!”
Harry could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening, the pressure reaching unbearable levels. He slammed into her harder, faster, chasing his release.
“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!”
“DO IT!” Narcissa wailed. “CUM INSIDE ME! BREED ME WITH YOUR SEED!”
That was all it took. Harry buried himself to the hilt and exploded, rope after rope of hot cum painting her insides. He could feel her cunt milking him, squeezing every last drop from his cock as her own orgasm hit, triggered by the sensation of his release.
“YES! YES! YES!” Narcissa screamed, her body convulsing beneath him. “SO MUCH CUM! FILLING ME UP SO GOOD!”
Harry collapsed forward, catching himself on his elbows, his face buried between her magnificent breasts as the last spurts of his orgasm faded. He could feel his cum leaking out around his cock, dripping onto the table beneath them.
They lay there for a moment, both panting, both trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. Narcissa’s hand came up to card through his hair, almost gentle despite the brutality of their coupling.
“That was…” she started.
“Incredible,” Harry finished, lifting his head to look at her. “Fucking incredible.”
Narcissa smiled, a satisfied, feline expression that made his cock twitch even though he’d just emptied himself inside her. “Merry Christmas to me indeed.”
Harry pulled out slowly, watching as a flood of his cum followed, pooling on the table between her spread thighs. The sight was obscene and beautiful, this elegant, sophisticated woman thoroughly debauched and dripping with his seed.
“I hope you didn’t have plans tonight,” Harry said, a predatory gleam entering his eyes. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”
Narcissa raised an elegant eyebrow. “Oh?”
Harry’s cock was already hardening again, responding to the sight of her laid out before him, her pussy gaping and leaking his cum, her breasts heaving with each breath.
“I’ve barely even had a chance to play with my present,” he said, his finger trailing down her stomach to circle her dripping entrance. Then lower, pressing gently against the tight pucker of her arsehole. “And I saw the way this little hole was winking at me when you were stuck in my fireplace.”
Narcissa’s breath hitched, her eyes going wide. “Potter… Harry… I’ve never… no one has ever…”
“Perfect,” Harry growled, pressing just the tip of his finger inside. “Then I’ll be your first.”