Auction ch.6

"What are you thinking?" Daphne asks.

"About you," he replies.

Daphne's eyes sparkle. "And what about me, big boy?"

"You're nosy."

"You're a recluse," she retorts.

"Fair enough."

"So tell me, what did you do with Bella before I kick you again?"

"If you're so curious, maybe you just want to watch?" he retorts. "I think Bellatrix is used to being watched by a fascinated audience. What do you say?" His best friend's cheeks turned pink, and her breath quickened.

"Don't tease me, Harry," she whispered. "I'm not teasing. You're welcome," he replied. "But first, there's today's auction."

"Oh, yes," Daphne quickly changes the subject. She's eager to change the topic. "Can't wait, can you?"

He shrugs. "I think Amelia will win."

"How do you feel about that?"

An uncountable number of emotions course through him. He shares a deeper connection with Amelia Bones than with any other woman on board. Profound and intimate.

"I'm not sure."

Daphne reaches out and squeezes his hand. "Don't forget to have a good time, Harry. I love you. Bye!"

She quickly escapes, leaving him alone, dazed and bewildered.

He needs to talk to her, but first...

The auction.

The moment he had feared has finally arrived.

"Sold to Amelia Bones for one hundred fifty thousand dollars!"

The moment when Amelia Bones wins the auction. The past two days have been incredible. He had sex with Cissy and Bella. The two most beautiful women in the world, whom he had desired for years. He can barely believe it, and every moment of this vacation feels like a dream.

But Amelia? That's different.

She had a brief relationship with Syrius Potter.

Of course, he was already an adult at the time, and their date was short-lived, so there's nothing morally wrong with going on a date with this woman...

But he certainly feels guilty.

Over the years, Amelia has become increasingly beautiful. She has a lush mane of red hair, the largest breasts he has ever seen on a woman, and an hourglass figure that defies physics.

"Hello, Harry," she says with that sensual voice as she approaches the stage to collect her prize. "You're finally mine."

"Yes," he says.

"Come with me, stallion."

Harry Potter is relieved to find out that they're not going straight to Amelia's bedroom. He needs some time to process all of this. If Amelia desires him as much as Bella or Cissy... he might just have a heart attack. Fortunately, Amelia first takes him to dinner. They have a private dining room all to themselves in the ship's most exclusive restaurant. Even though the food is amazing, and the wine is exquisite, Harry's attention is completely focused on the woman standing before him.

Amelia Bones.

She was beautiful.

The waiter served them the next course. The aroma hit Harry's senses—a spicy hint of lemon, earthy truffles, a subtle scent of rosemary. Despite this sensory feast, he had no appetite.

Amelia, of course, noticed. Her eyes, sharp and perceptive, missed little.

"Harry," she said with a soft and caring voice, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. "You haven't touched your food. How are you feeling? Be honest with me."

Harry wanted to dismiss her question. Give her a ready-made answer. Tell her everything was fine. He had always done that when people asked him how he was feeling.
To his surprise, he couldn't. The weight of all the emotions he had been holding back came crashing down on him in an instant, and his throat tightened.

Amelia reached across the table, and her delicate hand found his. Her skin was soft, and her touch comforting. "Harry," she whispered. "It's okay not to be okay."

His gaze blurred for a moment as he tried to rein in the swirling emotions within him. He squeezed her hand and nodded. "I know," he managed to say.

Amelia smiled gently, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. "It's okay to be sad, Harry. And it's okay to grieve if that's what you need. It's okay to feel what you're feeling. You're human."

They sat like that for a moment, holding her hand in his, and between them, a quiet understanding grew. Harry realized that he still hadn't fully come to terms with his father's absence.

That's what Amelia was about. She was stunning, yes, but her true beauty lay within her. Her capacity for empathy and comfort made her exceptional.

Amelia finally broke the silence, her voice gentle but firm. "Harry, why didn't you take over your father's business? You're more than capable."

Her question hung in the air for a moment. Soft instrumental music played in the background. Instead of answering, Harry began absentmindedly drawing patterns on the white tablecloth.

"I don't feel ready," he admitted, his gaze lingering on the back of her hand. "I'm... not him."

She squeezed his hand. "Harry. You're strong. You're capable. You don't have to be him. You just need to be yourself."

Harry lifted his gaze and met her eyes, emerald pools filled with warmth. It was reassuring to hear those words from someone so close.

"Thank you," Harry Potter said, offering a faint smile.

"You're welcome, Harry. And remember, you don't have to rush. When you're ready, you'll know. Until then, don't hurry. Grieve. Heal. But don't forget to live. Playing old video games is wasting your talents."

His lips hung open. "You know about that?"

"I do," Amelia said, tilting her head slightly. Her fiery hair shimmered in the soft room lighting. "Who do you think your top donor is?" For a moment, Harry couldn't say anything.

Of course. "You're..."

It was hard for him to get the words out, but he needed to know.

"Are you fiery_pig_69?" he asked.

Amelia smiled. "Oink oink, Harry."

His mouth hung open.

"As much as I enjoy watching your performances, Harry, you hold back."

He sat back in his chair, releasing her hand and rubbing his neck.

"You're strong, Harry. More than you realize. I've seen it, everyone around you has seen it. Narcissa has. Bellatrix has. Daphne has. But you also need to see it. You need to believe in yourself."

"But how..." he started to ask, and his question trailed off.

Amelia offered him that reassuring smile that made his body flush with warmth.

"By allowing yourself to be vulnerable, Harry. Acknowledging your fears and doubts, and then facing them. Accepting that you're human and realizing that sometimes you might feel overwhelmed. And most importantly, giving yourself a chance to try, make mistakes, and learn from them."

Her words resonated deep within him. In what she said, there was truth, raw and undeniable truth. But was he ready to accept it?

"I don't know if I can, Amelia," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the untouched plate in front of him.

"Of course, you can. I'll help you."

"How?"

"That's my secret," she smiled. "Have you finished dinner? This is just the beginning of our date, young man."
"I'm not hungry, sorry."

"Alright. Follow me."

Amelia took his hand and led him further. They took a long walk around the ship while engaging in conversation. Harry enjoyed being in Amelia's company. It was comforting.

Dominating Cissy and Bella had been hot, and he had relished every second of it, but with Amelia, he could just be himself.

"So, how's Daphne?" Amelia asked as they strolled on the deck. The beautiful sea stretched out before them, and the salty air filled Harry's nostrils. "I think she's doing great."

"Do you? You don't know how your best friend is feeling?"

He scratched his neck. "I guess I wasn't the best 'best friend' in the world," he admitted sheepishly. "You're right; I should really up my game."

"Yes, you should, Harry. Girls like Daphne are a rare find. Today you're mine, but tomorrow I want you to spend time with her. After all, she's the one who brought us all together."

"I guess she must really care about me if she went to all that trouble just for me," Harry Potter muttered to himself.

"Guess?" Amelia chuckled. "Yes, you guess right, Harry. Look. It's right here."

The redhead led him down a corridor, and eventually, they entered a luxurious spa. The place exuded opulence, with polished marble floors, plush seating, and ornate decorations. It was the most luxurious place Harry had ever been.

A gracious receptionist, dressed in an elegant uniform, greeted them both with a warm smile. "Welcome to Tranquil Haven. How may I assist you?"

"I have a reservation under the name Bones," Amelia replied, mostly for show. Of course, the receptionist knew who she was. Everyone did.

"Of course. Please remove your shoes and follow me. Right this way."

The receptionist led them to a secluded room, away from the outside world. There were two massage tables next to each other, bathed in the flickering light of candles.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable on the massage tables. Your luxurious treatment will begin shortly."

The receptionist curtsied, and Amelia turned to Harry. "What do you think, Harry?"

"It's really nice," he replied, toying with the edge of his shirt.

Amelia smiled playfully. "You've never been to a spa before, have you?"

"No."

"Let me help you with that," Amelia said, closing the gap between them. Before he could say anything, her hands lifted his shirt. Her fingers danced across his abdomen as she tossed his shirt to a corner. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Very nice."

Moments later, she undid his belt. His eyes widened, and Amelia chuckled.

"This is a nude massage, Harry. Relax."

"Nude?" he asked. "Wait, us or them?" Amelia nibbled her lower lip. "Both."

She dropped to her knees and pulled his pants down to his ankles. As they came off, she slid her thumbs into his boxers and tugged them down.

He was stunned by the turn of events, but his cock wasn't. It sprang to life just inches from Amelia's face, and she gazed at it with fascination.

"Not bad. Narcissa wasn't kidding when she said you were... talented."

Amelia stood up, her cheeks slightly flushed as she turned her back to him.

"Unzip me, please."

Harry couldn't believe this was happening. He felt conflicted, but at the same time, it was something he had wanted most. Just half an hour ago, they were having dinner, and she was comforting him – now he had to unzip Amelia's dress.
The enticing scent filled his nostrils as he approached, helping her unfasten her dress. His hands trembled. Her dress fell to the floor, revealing entirely black lingerie underneath.

His cock throbbed.

"My bra too, honey."

He unhooked her bra, and she allowed it to fall to the floor. She swayed her hips. His hard cock accidentally brushed against her ass, and Amelia giggled.

"Now, my panties, Harry."

Harry Potter could hardly believe his luck. He inhaled deeply as he knelt behind this incredible, wonderful woman and slowly removed her panties. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the massage table, presenting her round ass to him.

He pulled her panties down to her ankles and reveled in the glory of her perfect white cheeks for a moment.

"What do you think?" Amelia asked, looking at him over her shoulder. "Do I still have it?"

"You look... incredible," he said honestly. "You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen, Amelia."

She reached back and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and relished the sensation for a moment. She seemed to hesitate, breathing heavily. "They'll be here any minute... oh, fuck it. I know you want this."