Unknown Prophecy (Ch. 76) (Patreon)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Unknown Prophecy

Chapter 76

Harry found himself in the Holyhead Harpies locker room after the game. He was surrounded by twenty of the finest witches in the British Isles, all of whom were determined to make his life difficult in the most delightful ways. As soon as he entered the team’s sanctum, the girls began an immediate campaign of giggling, whispering, and ‘accidentally’ bumping into him with their curvy hips or brushing their breasts against his arm. Their robes barely stayed on their bodies in the postgame chaos, and it quickly became apparent that most of them hadn’t bothered with undergarments.

The team’s Irish seeker tossed her hair and let her towel slip, flashing Harry a bold view of her pale, freckled tits. The rest of the team cackled with approval, and within moments, towels and robes dropped everywhere. A stampede of naked women surrounded him. There was so much flesh bouncing and jiggling that Harry’s head began to spin.

He tried to speak but found his mouth smothered by a pair of soft, perfumed breasts. Another girl with a mass of curly black hair mashed her bare ass against his jeans as she reached around to grope his bulge. “Go on, Towel Boy,” she purred, massaging his bulge. “Show us what you’re made of.”

He barely registered his own hands moving, but they found the round, jiggly ass of the first girl, and he gave her a playful spank. A tall, bronzed Harpy with a lithe Quidditch physique slid in front of him and pressed her perky tits against his chest, trapping him in a triangle of soft skin. 

Harry sucked a hard nipple into his mouth, and he was instantly beset by several pairs of hands tugging at his shirt, unbuttoning his jeans, and stripping every last bit of clothing off him. They had him naked in under fifteen seconds, and the girls cheered like they’d just won a championship.

“Into the showers with you, Potter,” the captain commanded, and four sets of hands yanked him toward the tiled room. The hot steam rose up around him, and Harry saw that every single Harpy was now wetting their curvy bodies. 

They descended, forming a slippery, giggling scrum around him, and each girl jockeyed for position. Soapy hands lathered his chest, his stomach, and his cock. One woman took special care to lather his balls until they were covered in soapy bubbles. The girls took turns grinding their wet bodies against him, locking lips with him, and shoving their breasts in his face so he could suck on their nipples. A curly-haired chaser slid down and engulfed his cock between her lips, moaning as she bobbed and sucked.

The rest of the team crowded in, fighting for Harry’s attention and body. Harry thought it was a great way to celebrate a victory. 

Unknown Prophecy

Harry received a letter by owl that afternoon. It was written in an elegant, looping style that was unmistakable. Narcissa Malfoy’s message was brief and cryptic. “Your presence is requested. Come to the cottage at midnight. Tell no one.” 

The owl lingered until Harry gave it a treat, then it swooped off into the dusk without waiting for a reply. Harry stared at the letter, then looked at the clock. He tried to recall the last time he had seen Narcissa. It had been a while.

Harry left Ginny’s bed just before the clock struck midnight. He apparated to Narcissa’s cottage and shivered at the late-night chill. He landed at the edge of a gravel lane that led toward a small, isolated cottage. The cottage was nearly invisible in the blanketing darkness, but a warm orange light glowed from the windows. Harry walked up the path and knocked on the wooden door. He expected Narcissa to open the door at once, but instead there was a long pause. Harry waited, and then the lace curtain beside the door fluttered. A pair of pale blue eyes peered out. They narrowed as they tried to peer through the gloom, then they widened in recognition.

The door swung open, and Narcissa stood before him, illuminated in the soft light. Harry’s breath caught. Narcissa was dressed in a sheer, tissue-thin pink nightgown that stopped just above her thighs. The hem was so flimsy that it rippled in the breeze, momentarily exposing her taut, hairless pussy lips. Her braless breasts pressed the fabric taut, and her nipples were clearly visible. They tented the thin fabric, letting him know exactly how hard they were. The nightgown’s neckline plunged low enough to expose the tops and insides of her breasts. Her skin practically glowed in the light, and her long, sexy legs were bare from hip to toe. A single gold anklet glinted at her left ankle. She moved with the same regal posture as always, but there was a raw sensuality about her now. It was like the death of Lucius had unshackled her sexuality. 

Narcissa pulled him in and kissed him slowly. Before he could even kiss her back, her tongue was in his mouth, and her fingers were threaded in his hair. He grabbed her wide hips and squeezed. Her hips felt fleshy and soft. Narcissa’s body was made to be fucked. She pulled him inside the cottage without saying a word and led him down a short hallway lit by candles. 

She tugged him toward the couch in the sitting room. She pushed him down so he sat with his knees apart, then she slid onto his lap, straddling him. The nightgown rode up high on her thighs, and Harry’s hands went to her hips to steady her. She started kissing him again, but this time it felt more passionate. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and every time she squirmed, the fabric climbed higher, exposing more of her round, jutting ass.

Harry slid his hands under the hem of her nightgown, up her warm thighs, and over her ass. Narcissa arched her back and stuck her ass out even more. He ran his fingers along the crease of her thigh to the base of her pussy. She was already wet and open. He dragged his fingers through her silky folds, spreading the wetness along her lips. She shuddered hard. He was about to slide a finger inside when she broke the kiss and grabbed his wrist.

“Wait,” she said. Her demand was soft but firm. She was breathing hard, and her soft pink lips were parted. She held his hand right at the edge of her entrance but wouldn’t let him go further. She looked at him with wide, blue eyes. “I need to talk to you before we …” She trailed off with a small, almost embarrassed laugh.

Harry let his hands drop to her thighs, and he gently caressed her delicate skin. “Okay. Is something wrong?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but his heart was still racing from the way she’d just ground against him.

Narcissa settled herself, shifting so she sat on his right thigh. One hand stayed on his shoulder for balance. The other hand kept hold of his wrist. 

“It’s Draco,” she said. Harry was a bit surprised that she was talking to him about her son. As far as he knew, she had washed her hands of him. “I’ve heard some things about him. He’s out of options. All of his gold is gone. If something doesn’t change soon, he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up in the gutter.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn’t expect to be invited over to talk about Draco Malfoy. “That’s not exactly surprising. I’ve heard rumors of his money problems, but …” Harry didn’t mention his part in making Draco financially destitute. 

“He’s desperate,” Narcissa cut in, and she squeezed his wrist harder. She leaned in so close her hair brushed his cheek. Harry breathed in her perfume, and it made his cock harder. “He’s planning something stupid. You know … one last try at the old ways. If it fails, he’ll either lose his life or his freedom. If it works, it’ll probably still end badly for him. The people he’s been dealing with … let’s just say they’re not to be trusted.” She looked at him. Her face was inches from his, staring at him with pleading eyes. “You know what he’s like, Harry. He hasn’t changed one bit since Lucius was killed. If anything, he’s only gotten worse. He’s too proud to ask for help and too reckless to walk away when he should.”

Harry nodded. That certainly sounded like Malfoy. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Narcissa’s grip loosened. She ran her fingers up his arm, then spread her palm over his chest. She pressed herself against him so he could feel every inch of her soft, curvy body. “I want you to promise you’ll try to help him,” she said. “I don’t care how you have to do it,” she added. Her hand slid down over his stomach and under the hem of his t-shirt. Narcissa wasn’t playing fair. 

Harry let out a breath. The warmth of her hand made his cock jerk. “I’ll do what I can,” he said. He wasn’t planning on helping the git any, but he could still poke his nosey beak into Malfoy’s business and see what he was planning. Narcissa moved her hand over his chest and pulled his shirt off. She smiled, then kissed him again in gratitude. 

She pinned his shoulders to the back of the couch and used the leverage to press her hips hard against his groin. This time her tongue was gentle as she expressed her gratitude. She moaned softly into his mouth, and her hand drifted down to cup the bulge in his jeans. Harry’s heart rate picked up again. He ran his hands over her bare ass, feeling her pale, smooth skin and the way she trembled under his touch.

Narcissa broke the kiss and rested her forehead lightly against his. She was breathing deeply, and her face was flushed. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “You don’t have to thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.”

She nipped his bottom lip, then pulled back and looked at him intensely. “You’ve already done more for me than anyone else ever would.” Her hand fumbled with the button on his jeans. She popped it open, then slid the zipper down. “I want to do something for you now.”

Harry’s cock was already straining against his boxers, and Narcissa freed it with ease. She stroked his shaft with both hands. Her thumb circled the tip each time she reached the top. She leaned down and kissed his neck and chest. 

“Let me take care of you,” she seductively said. Then she was off his lap and kneeling between his knees. Her hair fell around her face and shoulders, making her look even sexier. She took him into her mouth slowly, tasting every inch. Harry’s eyes rolled back as she worked him with both tongue and suction, and it felt magical. He felt the tip of her tongue flicking the sensitive underside of his head in a way that made his balls ache with the need to be emptied. She alternated between slow, deep sucks and quick, shallow ones.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and guided her pace, but Narcissa stayed in control. Every so often she looked up at him with a pleased expression. Harry realized she was enjoying this as much as he was.

She sucked him until he was right on the edge of cumming, then pulled off with a wet pop and a naughty smile. She climbed back onto his lap, hiked her nightgown up until she was bare from the waist down, and ground herself against his cock, dragging her slick lips along its length. The head dipped into her entrance, and she paused. She teased herself by rocking her hips in tiny circles.

Harry grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her down. Narcissa gasped as he slid inside. She was so tight and wet that he had to stop and regroup, fighting the urge to cum right away. Her arms went around his neck, and she started moving.

She started riding his cock with a slow, confident rhythm. The living room was suddenly filled with the wet, squelching sounds of her cunt sliding up and down his shaft. Every time she lifted herself, her folds stretched and clung to his cock, and every time she dropped down, her pussy squelched around him, as if it was trying to suck him deeper. She was impossibly tight, but the wetness of her arousal made each thrust frictionless and wet. His jeans and the seat cushions were already getting soaked.

Her nightgown slipped off one shoulder and then the other as the thin straps were dragged down by the bounce of her big breasts. Harry reached down and tugged at the hem, and Narcissa tossed her head back and let him pull it over her head entirely. Her body was bare now, and her pale skin was flushed with excitement. Her tits swayed and jostled in his face with every bounce of her hips. She leaned forward, braced her hands on his shoulders, and used both arms to squeeze her breasts together. Harry opened his mouth and sucked on one nipple before moving to the other. They were thick, pink, and stiff, and Harry sucked hard on them. He lightly bit down, and Narcissa moaned and arched her back, so he bit a little harder. She loved it rough.

Her hips began to work harder and faster. She moaned every time he bottomed out inside her, and he could feel her pussy flutter and grip him with every thrust. The way her walls squeezed his shaft told him that her body wanted to be filled with cum right away. Narcissa pinched one nipple between her fingers, rolled it, and then moved her hand between her thighs. She started rubbing her clit in rapid little circles while still riding him, and the muscles inside her pussy clenched down even harder.

The sounds were vulgar, and the couch underneath them squeaked in time with the wet slap of flesh. Harry couldn’t even think straight. His mind was filled with the taste of her nipples, the smell of her perfume, the sound of her gasping moans, and the dirty, wet noises every time she slammed down on him. She changed her rhythm and ground her hips in tight circles instead of bouncing. She started milking his cock for all it was worth.

Narcissa’s face twisted with pleasure. She buried her face in his neck and bit down just as her orgasm hit. Her pussy clamped down like a vise, and her whole body shook on top of him. She grunted, moaned, and dug her nails into his shoulders. Harry was still holding on, but just barely. The sensation of her cumming around him was almost enough to send him over the edge too. She kept grinding through her orgasm, refusing to let up.

When she finally slowed, she slumped against him. Her body went limp, and her breath was hot on his skin. She kissed his neck, then licked her way up to his jawline and nibbled his ear. “You’re not finished, are you?” she shuddered. Still trembling, she rolled off his lap and gave his cock a single, messy suck that left him glistening and rock-hard.

“Not by a long shot,” he said with a smirk.

Harry stood up and finally yanked off his shoes and jeans. Narcissa watched him as she lounged on the couch with one hand idly playing with her pussy. Her legs were spread open, and she was freely showing off just how wet her pussy was. She spread her lips for him and made a come-hither motion with her finger. “Take me to bed,” she commanded in a haughty voice.

Harry grabbed her by the hips and hoisted her up in his arms. She squeaked in surprise and threw her arms around his neck, giggling as he carried her down the hallway. He could feel her wetness dripping onto his bare skin. He kicked open the bedroom door, laid her down face-first in the middle of the mattress, and gripped her by the waist. Narcissa arched her back like a cat in heat and wiggled her ass in the air, beckoning him closer. 

He shoved himself inside her in one quick thrust. She took him to the hilt and moaned in approval, pushing back into his thrusts. Harry groaned from the way her wet walls fluttered around him. He started fucking her hard and fast, pounding her pussy with the same intensity she’d ridden him with before. The room filled with the smell of sex and the perverse sounds of her pussy devouring his cock.

She clawed at the sheets and pushed her hips back, matching every thrust. “Harder,” she gasped. “Harder, you bastard!” Harry chuckled and rammed her so hard the headboard banged the wall. She looked over her shoulder at him with glazed eyes.

She whimpered and collapsed onto her elbows, but her ass was still high in the air. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck and shoulders. He leaned over her and kissed the back of her neck, and she whimpered in appreciation. He reached around, found her clit, and massaged it as he fucked her. Narcissa’s body went rigid almost instantly. Her legs trembled, her cunt convulsed around his cock, and she cried out as another orgasm crashed through her.

Harry couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled her to the edge of the bed and slammed into her one last time, burying himself as deep as he could get. He groaned and shot his cum inside her, flooding her insides with hot, sticky cream. Narcissa cried out and shuddered as she milked every drop from him. He collapsed on top of her, panting, and he buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent.

They lay there, breathing hard with his cock still buried inside her contracting pussy. Narcissa finally rolled over and displayed her messy and soiled pussy. She smiled up at him with a look of pure satisfaction. “That’s a good boy,” she purred, trailing her nails softly down his chest. Harry rolled his eyes and rolled back on top of her, making her laugh out loud. 

Unknown Prophecy

Harry apparated to the street in front of Draco’s rented house. Harry eyed the small house up and down, then circled around to the side, scanning the perimeter for any sign of Draco. The shabby house was the kind of place a wizard would choose only if he had to keep a very low profile or had fallen hard on his luck.

Through the window, Harry peered into the sitting room. The only thing he spotted was the flicker of a dying coal fire. Harry used his Mage Sight to inspect the ward scheme. Draco’s wards were a patchwork of crude detection charms and a single, half-baked locking ward on the front door. Harry shook his head and spent a few minutes quietly punching a hole through all of them.

He let himself in through the back, careful not to make too much noise. The inside was worse than the outside. Several empty firewhiskey bottles lay on the floor, and dirty laundry sat in all stages of decay. His Hogwarts trunk sat in the corner. The room was permeated with the stink of stale spirits and unwashed clothes. Harry kept his head on a swivel as he moved through the place. As unlikely as it was, Draco might have left a surprise.

He checked every room and found nothing. The tiny house was vacant, but there were signs Draco had left in a hurry. A half-finished sandwich sat on the kitchen table, and a rain-soaked cloak was hung near the dying fire. 

The Hogwarts trunk was locked, but Harry simply waved his hand, and the latch popped open. Inside, the contents were more depressing than dangerous. Inside were a few old robes, old textbooks, a deck of dog-eared Exploding Snap cards, and a scattering of wrinkled essays. On top of the pile was a single folded letter with Draco’s name inked on the front in dark, looping script.

Harry carefully unfolded the parchment. It was a letter from Alecto Carrow. The letter was brief, but Harry read it three times to make sure he would remember all of it. 

“Draco, don’t waste my time with more begging. If you want gold, you’ll earn it. I have something in the works. Meet me at 9 am sharp, outside Borgin & Burkes, Knockturn. DO NOT be late. We’ll talk more then. Alecto.”

That was all. It had been sealed with a blood-red wax seal stamped with an unfamiliar crest. He slid the letter back into the trunk. Now he was less concerned with “helping” Draco, and more interested in what Carrow was planning. Narcissa was definitely correct. Whatever Malfoy was getting himself into would likely end badly for him. 

Harry searched the rest of the trunk for clues. Under a false bottom, he found a tightly wrapped bundle of notes and receipts from Knockturn Alley. They were payments made out to several different shops. Each note was for a small amount, but the pattern suggested Draco was buying ingredients, brewing them into illegal substances, and selling them for a small profit. One note referred to a package “for the bird,” which Harry assumed was a woman who was buying his wares. 

He checked the bedroom for anything obvious, but Draco’s wardrobe contained only a few stained dress shirts and trousers and a set of pajamas stamped with the Malfoy crest. The bathroom was a disaster. Harry cast a quick Scourgify to clear the air, then checked under the sink for any potions or poisons. He found only a single empty flask of Pepper-Up.

Back in the sitting room, Harry considered the situation. Draco had been summoned by Carrow for a job. She was promising gold, which meant it would be dangerous, and Draco was desperate enough to take the risk. Whatever the job was, it obviously hadn’t gone down yet, or Narcissa wouldn’t have been asking for help. The only way he would find out more was to get it straight from the horse's mouth. Harry sat down at the kitchen table and waited for dear old Draco to return.