Harry was walking through the district with his head up.
It was a strange sensation, moving through the rows of shopfronts without the familiar hunch of shame pulling his shoulders down, without the urge to dart from shadow to shadow like he was doing something wrong. The Ministry banners fluttered overhead in the warm afternoon breeze, their cheerful slogans about economic recovery catching the light, and Harry looked at them properly for the first time since this whole thing started.
Spend Local, Save Britain.
Your Knuts, Our Future.
The Trickle Starts With You.
He'd read them before, of course, but always with his eyes sliding past, not wanting to linger on the absurdity of what he was participating in. Now he found himself actually processing the words, letting the ridiculousness of it wash over him, and something that might have been amusement curled in his chest.
His feet carried him past shopfront after shopfront without hesitation. Past Lavender, who waved at him from behind her counter with a knowing smile. Past Tracey's place, where the curtain was already drawn. He wasn't avoiding anything today. He wasn't running from anything. He was here because he wanted to be.
After Hermione, something had shifted.
The guilt was still there, lurking at the edges of his thoughts, but it had lost its teeth. He'd spent his whole first visit consumed with shame, his second visit trying to convince himself it was charity, his third visit wrestling with the impossible reality of paying his best friend for sex. And somewhere in the middle of all that, somewhere between Hermione's desperate confessions and the feeling of her cunt clenching around his cock as she came, Harry had stopped fighting himself.
He wanted this.
He wanted to walk through a district full of beautiful witches and pick one. He wanted to pay his money and take what he was offered. He wanted to feel a woman's body beneath his hands without overthinking every second of it.
His feet stopped moving before his brain caught up with why.
The shopfront in front of him was decorated in deep purple and silver, the Ministry seal gleaming beside a price list he hadn't glanced at yet because his attention was thoroughly, completely, catastrophically occupied by the witch inside.
Romilda Vane was leaning against her counter with her elbows back and her chest thrust forward, and she was looking at Harry like he'd just made every single one of her dreams come true.
Her hair was the first thing that registered, long black curls tumbling over her shoulders and down her back in wild cascades that caught the light from the floating candles and gleamed with hints of dark purple. Harry's fingers twitched at his sides before he could stop them, already imagining what it would feel like wrapped around his fist while he fucked her from behind.
Her face was stunning in a way that demanded attention, dark eyes framed by thick lashes, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, full lips curved into a smile that promised absolutely filthy things. Her skin was tan and smooth, a warm golden-brown that made her look like she'd been sunbathing naked on some Mediterranean beach, and Harry found himself tracing the line of her neck with his eyes, following it down to where the real trouble began.
She was wearing what could only charitably be described as clothing.
The top was little more than two scraps of purple fabric held together by thin straps, leaving her shoulders bare and her arms free and her tits straining against the material like they were trying to escape. And what tits they were. Full and round and pushed together by the cut of her top, creating a cleavage so deep that Harry could see the dark shadow between them, could see the way her skin dimpled slightly where the fabric dug in, could see the faint outline of her nipples pressing through the thin material.
Her stomach was bare, flat and toned, her navel visible above the waistband of a skirt that barely deserved the name. The fabric was the same deep purple as her top, clingy and short, riding so high on her thighs that Harry could see where they pressed together, could see the slight gap between them that his cock desperately wanted to explore.
Her legs were long and smooth and bare, ending in a pair of heels that made her arse thrust out behind her in a way that was physically impossible to ignore.
Romilda pushed off from the counter and moved toward him, and Harry watched her hips sway with each step, watched her tits shift beneath that inadequate top, watched her tongue dart out to wet her lips as she approached.
"Harry Potter."
Her voice was a purr, low and warm and dripping with satisfaction, and the way she said his name made his cock twitch in his trousers.
"Romilda."
"You remembered." Her smile widened, revealing white teeth and a hint of pink tongue. "I wasn't sure you would. It's been years since I tried to slip you that love potion."
Harry blinked. "You're... bringing that up?"
"Why wouldn't I?" She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could smell her perfume, could see the way her pupils had dilated, could feel the heat radiating off her skin. "I've been wanting you since fourth year, Harry. Tried to get you the wrong way back then. Figured I'd just wait for you to come to me eventually." Her eyes dropped to his crotch, then back up to his face. "Took you long enough."
She said it without shame, without embarrassment, without any of the complicated emotions that had coloured his previous encounters. Romilda Vane wanted to fuck him and she was thrilled she got to do it.
"I'm buying," Harry said, the words coming out steadier than he'd expected.
"Merlin, I hope so." Romilda grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her shopfront, her fingers warm and insistent. "I would have done you for free, but a girl's got to eat. What do you want?"
The price list was mounted beside the door in the standard Ministry format, and Harry's eyes went straight to the bottom. Sex, two sickles.
Two sickles. More expensive than any of the other witches he'd visited so far.
Harry pulled out the coins without hesitation and pressed them into her palm. "Everything."
The effect on Romilda was instant.
Her eyes went wide and bright, her breath catching in her throat, her whole body seeming to vibrate with excitement. "Fuck yes," she breathed, grabbing his wrist and practically dragging him through the curtain into her back room. "Fuck yes, fuck yes, Harry Potter is going to fuck me, I can't believe this is happening, I've dreamed about this for so bloody long!"
Her enthusiasm was infectious. Harry found himself grinning as she pulled him into a space that was larger and more elaborately decorated than either Tracey's or Hermione's had been. Purple curtains lined the walls, floating candles cast warm shadows across the ceiling, and the bed in the centre was massive, covered in silk sheets that shimmered in the candlelight.
Romilda spun to face him, her black curls whipping around her shoulders, her dark eyes blazing with undisguised desire. "I am going to make this so good for you," she promised, her hands already moving to the straps of her top. "I've been practising, you know. Every bloke who came through here, I pretended they were you. Imagined it was your cock I was sucking, your hands on my tits, your cum inside me. I've been training for this moment, Harry."
The straps slipped off her shoulders.
The top fell away.
Harry stopped breathing.
Her tits were incredible. Round and full and perfectly shaped, capped with dark nipples that were already stiffening in the cool air. They were bigger than he'd expected, heavy enough to hang with a slight sway when she moved, firm enough to hold their shape beautifully. The tan of her skin was uniform across them, no tan lines visible, and Harry's mouth watered at the thought of burying his face between them, of feeling their weight in his palms, of watching them bounce while he fucked her.
Romilda cupped them in her hands, lifting and squeezing, putting on a show just for him. "You like?"
"Merlin," Harry managed, his cock straining painfully against his trousers.
"I knew you would." She released her tits and let them fall naturally, the soft jiggle making Harry's hands itch to reach out. "I used to catch you looking at them in the common room, you know. Back in sixth year. You'd try to be subtle about it, but I always noticed. I'd wear lower tops after that, bend over in front of you when I could, give you a nice long look at my cleavage." Her hands moved to the waistband of her tiny skirt. "Made me wet every time, thinking about what you wanted to do to me."
The skirt joined her top on the floor.
She wasn't wearing anything underneath.
Harry's eyes dropped to her cunt and his brain short-circuited.
Her pussy was bare and smooth, the tan of her skin giving way to dusky pink folds that glistened with obvious arousal. Her lips were plump and slightly parted, and Harry could see the slick wetness coating them, could see the way they were swelling with need. Her clit peeked out from its hood, a tiny pink nub that begged to be licked and sucked.
"Fuck," Harry breathed.
"That's the plan." Romilda grinned at him, shameless and confident, standing completely naked in front of him like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Your turn."
Harry fumbled with his belt, his hands suddenly clumsy, and Romilda laughed with pure delight at his eagerness. "Need help?"
"I've got it."
His trousers came down and his cock sprang free, thick and hard and already leaking at the tip.
Romilda's eyes went wide.
"Oh fuck," she said, her voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "Oh fuck, Harry, that's... that's huge."
She stepped closer, her gaze fixed on his cock like she couldn't look away. Her hand reached out, her fingers wrapping around his shaft, and Harry groaned at the contact. Her grip was firm and warm, her skin soft against his hardness, and she stroked him slowly, almost experimentally, like she was trying to memorise the feel of him.
"I used to imagine this," she murmured, her thumb brushing over his leaking tip and spreading the pre-cum along his head. "Lying in bed at night, touching myself, wondering what Harry Potter's cock looked like. Whether it was big. Whether it would fill me up." She squeezed him harder, her dark eyes lifting to meet his. "It's even better than I imagined."
"Romilda."
"Mmm?"
"I want to see you." His voice came out rough, commanding. "Bend over the bed. Show me everything."
Romilda's breath caught, her pupils blowing wide with arousal. "Yes," she whispered, releasing his cock and turning toward the bed. "Fuck yes."
She walked to the edge of the mattress, her arse swaying hypnotically with each step, those firm cheeks flexing and shifting in ways that made Harry's cock throb. When she reached the bed she bent forward, planting her hands on the silk sheets, arching her back in a way that pushed her arse out and spread her legs apart.
Harry stared.
Her arse was magnificent. Round and full and perfectly tan, the skin smooth and unblemished. The curve of each cheek was a work of art, and Harry wanted to grab them, spread them, bury his face between them. Her pussy was on full display below, those puffy lips parted now, the pink of her inner walls visible, her arousal dripping down toward her thighs.
"Like this?" Romilda looked over her shoulder at him, her black curls cascading across her back, her dark eyes burning with need. "Is this what you want to see?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to touch?"
"Yes."
"Then stop staring and come fuck me, Harry Potter."
Harry moved without thinking, closing the distance between them in two strides. His hands found her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, and he positioned himself behind her with his cock pressing against her slick entrance.
"Wait," Romilda gasped. "Wait, just... let me feel it first. Rub it against me. I want to feel how big you are before you put it in."
Harry obliged, sliding his cock through her wetness, coating himself in her arousal. The head of his cock dragged across her clit and Romilda moaned, loud and unrestrained, her hips pushing back against him.
"Fuck, Harry, you're so thick," she whined, grinding herself against his shaft. "I can feel you throbbing. I can feel your cock pulsing against my pussy. Merlin, I've wanted this for so long!"
He rubbed himself against her a few more times, watching his cock slide through her folds, watching the way her juices coated him until he was shining with her need. Then he positioned himself at her entrance and pushed.
The first inch stretched her open around him, and Romilda screamed.
"YES! Oh fuck, YES! Harry, you're so big, you're splitting me open, don't stop, please don't stop!"
Harry gripped her hips harder and pushed deeper, watching his cock disappear inside her inch by inch. She was tight, incredibly tight, her walls gripping him with a desperate heat that made his vision blur at the edges. He could feel every flutter and clench of her cunt as she adjusted to his size, could hear every broken moan that spilled from her lips as he filled her.
"More!" Romilda was practically sobbing now, her fingers twisted in the silk sheets. "More, Harry, give me more, I need all of it, I need you so deep!"
He bottomed out with a grunt, his hips pressed flush against her arse, his balls resting against her swollen clit. Romilda's whole body was shaking, her back arched, her head thrown back.
"Oh Merlin," she moaned, her voice wrecked. "Oh fuck, Harry, you're so far inside me. I can feel you in my stomach. This is even better than I imagined, this is so much better!"
Harry pulled back slowly, watching his cock emerge from her cunt, glistening with her juices. Then he thrust forward again, hard, and Romilda screamed.
"YES! Fuck yes! Harder, Harry, fuck me harder!"
He set a rhythm, his hips snapping forward with each thrust, his cock plunging into her tight heat over and over. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mixed with Romilda's increasingly incoherent moaning.
"I used to think about sneaking into your dormitory at night!" she gasped, her words punctuated by his thrusts. "Climbing into your bed while you were sleeping! Waking you up with my mouth on your cock! Fuck, right there, don't stop!"
Harry groaned, the image she was painting searing itself into his brain. His hands slid up from her hips to grab her arse, squeezing those perfect cheeks, spreading them apart so he could watch his cock disappearing inside her.
"I'd imagine you finding me in the common room after everyone was asleep!" Romilda continued, her voice rising in pitch. "Bending me over the sofa! Fucking me where anyone could walk in and see! Oh Merlin, your cock is so big, I love it, I love it!"
"Romilda." His voice came out as a growl.
"I'd touch myself in class thinking about you!" She was babbling now, completely lost in the pleasure. "Sitting in History of Magic with my hand under my robes! Imagining your cock inside me while Binns droned on! Coming at my desk and trying not to make any noise! Fuck, Harry, fuck!"
He was thrusting harder now, something primal waking up inside him at her words. Each confession she spilled made his cock throb, made him want to pound her deeper, fuck her harder, claim her completely.
"I used to listen to the other girls talk about boys!" Romilda gasped, her cunt clenching around him. "About what they'd done! And I'd just sit there thinking about you! Wondering what sounds you made when you came! Wondering what your cum tasted like! I wanted it so badly, Harry!"
"Merlin," Harry grunted, his hips moving faster.
"I'd make myself come screaming your name into my pillow! Every night! Every single night! And now you're finally here, you're finally fucking me, and it's even better than my fantasies!"
Her words were doing something to him, breaking down the last walls of restraint he'd been clinging to. He reached forward and grabbed a fistful of her black curls, pulling her head back, and Romilda moaned at the roughness.
"YES! Pull my hair! Fuck me like you mean it! I can take it, Harry, I want it!"
He yanked harder, forcing her back to arch even more dramatically, and increased his pace. His cock was pistoning into her now, each thrust jolting her whole body forward, her arse bouncing against his hips with obscene slapping sounds.
"Harder!" Romilda begged, her voice cracking. "Please, Harry, harder! I've waited so long for this! Show me what you can do! Fuck me stupid!"
Something snapped inside him.
Harry released her hair and grabbed both her hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He pulled her back onto his cock as he thrust forward, impaling her completely, and Romilda shrieked.
"OH MERLIN YES!"
He didn't hold back anymore. Every thrust was brutal, every impact of his hips against her arse loud enough to echo off the walls. Romilda was coming apart beneath him, her screams filling the room, her cunt clenching and spasming around his cock as he fucked her with everything he had.
"I love your cock!" she wailed, her whole body shaking. "I love your big, fat cock! Don't stop! Don't ever stop! Harry!"
"Fuck," Harry grunted, feeling his orgasm building at the base of his spine.
"Yes! Fuck me! Fill me up! I want your cum inside me!" Romilda was sobbing now, tears streaming down her cheeks, her body jolting forward with each devastating thrust. "I've dreamed about this! I've ached for this! Please, Harry, please come inside me!"
The pressure was building, his balls tightening, every nerve in his body singing with impending release. He could feel Romilda's cunt fluttering around him, could feel her orgasm approaching, could hear it in the rising pitch of her screams.
"I'm coming!" she shrieked, her back arching. "Harry, I'm coming!"
Her cunt clamped down on him like a vice, her inner walls spasming wildly, milking his cock with desperate pulses. The sensation tipped Harry over the edge.
He buried himself to the hilt and exploded.
"Fuck!"
His orgasm ripped through him, wave after wave of pure pleasure crashing over his body as his cock pumped thick ropes of cum deep inside her. Romilda was still screaming, still coming, her body shaking violently as she felt him filling her up.
"Yes yes yes!" she cried, her voice breaking. "I can feel it! I can feel your cum inside me! Harry!"
He kept coming, his cock pulsing and spurting until he could feel his seed leaking out around his shaft, dripping down Romilda's thighs. She was sobbing with pleasure beneath him, her fingers clawing at the silk sheets, her whole body trembling with aftershocks.
When the last shudder finally faded, Harry stayed buried inside her, his chest heaving, his legs unsteady. Romilda collapsed forward onto the bed, pulling him down with her, his cock still twitching in her flooded cunt.
"Harry," she whispered, her voice hoarse and wrecked. "Harry Potter."
She sounded like a woman whose every fantasy had just come true.
Harry's cock twitched one last time inside her, and he found himself thinking that two sickles was an absolute bargain.