Brooms and Cocks ch.6

Harry felt the blonde woman's gaze on him as he stepped outside and made his way to the entrance doors. The women's petite rear end looked incredibly enticing in her tight-fitting pants. However, instead of admiring it as she got back into the Bentley, he focused his thoughts on Hermione and Amelia.

To the assistant he felt he could trust. But Amelia's motivations remained unknown.

The Potter Industries building didn't look too grand, but it had always been a second home to him. The pain of loss hit him particularly hard as he caught the familiar scent and entered the wood-paneled lobby. The walls were adorned with old photos of his dad and his former partners and colleagues or from races.

Passing by the workshop door, he glanced inside to see if the old project was still standing in the corner. It was a project he and his father had started many years ago but couldn't finish before he fell ill. Familiar turns almost drew him into the shop, but the sound of clinking glasses from upstairs caught his attention, and he heard the soft murmur of two conversing women.

The stairs creaked as he ascended the narrow staircase to the second floor. The conversation hushed as he approached the top, and he felt a nervous excitement in his chest as he saw warm light spilling into the corridor.

He entered the narrow office, where he found Hermione seated in a chair in front of the desk and Amelia perched behind it, her feet resting on its surface.

"It's about time you showed up," Amelia said, and her full lips twisted into a crooked smile.

Harry only glanced at the heels on the desk, and she lowered them. He wished he could see his father's expression, as he wiped the smile off her face. Looking down at Hermione, he caught a pleased smile before she could wipe it away.

The petite woman had changed from a pencil skirt and blouse into a lace top and snug leggings. As Harry Potter's eyes traveled up her toned legs, he noticed a hint of white panties peeking above the waistband and a smooth stomach.

"Good evening, sir," Hermione lowered her head, and Harry noticed her cheeks flush as her gaze lingered on the bulge forming in his pants.

If it weren't for Amelia being there, he might have thrown this enchanting Muggle-born girl onto the desk and gone at her right away. She was not only sexy, but there was something about her shyness that ignited his desire. The older woman was beginning to feel like an intrusive presence as Harry circled the desk and motioned for her to vacate the chair.

"Don't you want to sit on my lap?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she stood up, but instead of going around the desk, she walked past where Harry stood.

There was no room, and the beauty pressed herself against him, her eyes absorbing the features of his face as she pressed her soft breasts against his chest. Her lips curved into a crooked smile again as she felt his manhood shifting in his jeans. Harry tried to pull away from the enticing closeness.

"You're driving my cousin crazy," Amelia hissed, her plump lips just centimeters from his. "And you don't even realize it, do you? Eleonora always liked drivers... and men who take what they want... Are you the kind of man who takes what he wants, Harry?"

The invitation in her tone was evident, and Harry couldn't hide the painful arousal pressing against his jeans, but he managed to maintain control. His hands moved with deliberate determination as he gently pushed Amelia aside and stepped behind the desk. The MILF laughed and took a seat next to Hermione.

"Well, since I'm not getting the training I wanted or the show I was promised," she looked at the younger Englishwoman with a furrowed brow, "what's this big secret you wanted my help with?"

"Hermione, I can trust her," Harry said, leaning back in his chair and running a finger through his hair, "but how do I know you won't betray my plans to your cousin or anyone else?"

Amelia's eyes flashed with anger, and her cheeks reddened. "Two hours on the job, and you think you know so much? Why can you trust this... this child and not me? It's an insult!"

"That's true," Harry said, keeping his tone in check.

The anger left the beautiful MILF as quickly as it had appeared, and she leaned back, laughing. Hermione glanced at the older woman with a look that suggested she didn't believe the woman was entirely sane, and Harry had to agree. The woman leaned forward and pulled out her phone. She retrieved a photo and handed it to him. It took a second for him to register what he was seeing, but when he did, a blush washed over his skin.

It was a photo of a photo. The original had yellowed with age, but Amelia was easily recognizable with her hair and stunning figure. In the picture, she was wearing a little black dress, and her figure was on display as she bent low, hugging a boy clutching a trophy. A blush spread across Harry Potter's skin as he recognized himself, holding the first-place trophy in a race. He vaguely remembered winning it when he was six years old, but he hadn't seen pictures of it in over a decade.

"It's you!" Hermione exclaimed in shock, looking at him.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you don't remember me, but your mother and I were best friends before her passing," Amelia said with a sad expression. "Oh, how I loved that woman. The most beautiful and charming creature I've ever met, and such a rebel... We shared so many delightful moments together when we were young."

"And after her passing?" Harry asked.

When she mentioned his mother, it brought back old memories of parties and late-night gatherings at their home. He didn't remember faces, but he had vivid memories of standing in the hallway late at night, eavesdropping on their conversations and laughter, unaware of what they were talking about but eager for involvement.

Amelia's expression softened, and she sat back down in her chair. "I don't want to speak ill of the deceased."

"What did my father do?" The tightening around her eyes told Harry that it wasn't about his mother, and he suspected it had to do with his father.

"You have your father's insight," Amelia said, her lips forming a small smile, then she sighed. "A week after your mother's death, Harry ran off to Monaco with a Victoria's Secret model. He left his young son at home with a nanny to look after him... It took me years to forgive your father for that."

"He made amends," Harry said, recalling the trip and the night he cried, apologizing for his behavior during the first few years after his mother's death.

"He did, and he found a good woman to help raise you," she said with a firm nod. "I love my cousin and Zabini, but they don't need me to build their brand. I need something new. Challenges. Your father promised me one thing, but that was two years ago, and soon after, he fell ill. If you still think you can't trust me, I'll leave..."

Amelia began to rise to leave, but Harry reached out, stopping her.

"Stay," Harry Potter said, and she smiled, settling back into the chair. "I want to create a new broom manufacturer. One that builds high-performance luxury brooms. Machines that are works of art and designed for speed. England super brooms."

"Ridiculous!" Amelia burst into laughter, her hand hitting the table as she leaned forward.

Harry furrowed his brow, but Hermione looked more offended than he did.

"Shut your filthy mouth!" The petite woman hissed those words with such intensity that amusement disappeared from Amelia's face, replaced by shock. Harry had never seen the quiet and modest woman speak this way, and he felt the same shock inside, but he couldn't help but smile as she continued.

"You think just because the world has always been this way, it can't change, but you're wrong. Harry will change the world. And fools like you will be left in the dust. Laugh at my master's face one more time, and I'll drag you out of here by that tangle you call hair."

Hermione's face showed no embarrassment or shame as she sat down in the chair, carefully placing her hands on her knees. However, Amelia's features turned cold and stern, and Harry worried he'd have to navigate between them. Something in her expression told him she was considering slapping the younger woman, but before he could open his mouth to break the tension, Amelia spoke.

"Do you believe in this boy and his plan so strongly?"

"I do," Hermione replied without hesitation.

"Are you willing to give up everything you have to make it work?"

"Of course," Hermione said firmly.

"Because those old bastards responsible for everything won't budge for just anyone," Amelia said, leaning forward in her seat, excitement gleaming in her eyes. "They only respect sultans and men who live like kings. Won't it bother you that your wonderful young lover is sleeping with the president's wife to seal a deal? Or when he gathers others to... assist him in his grand work?"

"I understand the nature of powerful men," Hermione said, straightening her posture and locking her gaze onto Harry. "And I've always known that I would serve in this way."

"I still think it's madness," Amelia said with a snort, "but if you can show such dedication from day one, you might have a chance. Assuming you can find brilliant engineers."

"Why?" Harry stared into Hermione's eyes as he asked this question, and he saw her gaze soften.

"I told you earlier how I need to live, or else I'll fall into addiction and bad choices. But this is more than that... I've watched you grow into a brilliant and handsome young man, Harry. It's the kind of man I need in my life. If you find a place for me in the company, I'll gladly fulfill it... and if you need me for anything else... anything. I'm yours."

Harry Potter stood, his dark eyes dangerously intense as he tapped on the desk in front of him. "Prove it," Amelia challenged, her voice tinged with vulgarity. "Lean over the desk and let him satisfy his desires with your body. Come on, was this eloquent speech just an act?"

Hermione looked at Harry, and after his approving nod, gracefully rose from her chair. She smoothly lowered her leggings, revealing her shapely backside. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the desk in front of Harry, her blouse hanging low, offering a tempting view of her petite, firm breasts.

Harry's heart sped up as he stood up. He cast a quick glance at Amelia, seeing the lust and jealousy on her face. Although he had had his share of relationships at school, he had never been in such a situation, especially not with an audience. The attractive older woman locked eyes with him, and her defiant gaze seemed to ask: "How far are you willing to go?". She may have known him as a boy, but she clearly underestimated his determination not to be manipulated.

Standing just behind Hermione, Harry watched the women's slender back rise and fall, and her breathing quickened. The sight of her pale cheeks and the enticing glimpse of her aroused intimacy glistening with desire made his already erect member pulsate uncomfortably in his jeans. Nevertheless, he put his hands on his hips and looked at Amelia. "If you want to see me in action, you'd better get me ready."