[Exclusive] Poll Winner: Astoria/Harry – Next Week’s Choice (1)

This one-shot is inspired by the results of Next Week’s Choice (1), where you voted for Astoria/Harry. Thank you for participating, and I hope you enjoy the story! Don’t forget to vote in the next poll for more exciting pairings!

Harry Potter, the celebrated savior of the wizarding world, found himself in unfamiliar territory as he stood in the elegant foyer of Greengrass Manor. The grandeur of the place was almost as intimidating as a duel with Voldemort, and Harry couldn’t decide if he felt more like a guest of honor or a trespasser. Daphne Greengrass, his girlfriend of six months, had finally decided it was time for him to meet her family. Though their relationship was stable, Harry couldn’t help but crave a bit more spark—something unpredictable to keep him on his toes.

“Relax, Harry. You’ve faced Death Eaters; you can handle my parents,” Daphne teased, brushing a stray lock of her sleek dark hair behind her ear. She was dressed with her usual understated elegance, wearing a tailored emerald-green blouse that brought out her blue eyes.

Harry chuckled nervously. “I’ve battled trolls, basilisks, and a megalomaniac bent on world domination, but pureblood parents? Uhh…”

Daphne gave his arm a playful squeeze. “You’ll survive. Just don’t mention your fascination with Muggle football, and everything will be fine.”

Harry sighed. “I mean, if Manchester United don’t fix their defense soon, it’s over. Completely hopeless.”

Daphne stared at him, unimpressed. “Are they a Quidditch team?”

Harry groaned. “This is why I’m nervous about your family.”

The massive oak doors swung open with a subtle hum of magic, revealing a stately but inviting interior. Gleaming marble floors reflected the sunlight streaming through towering windows, while the air carried a faint scent of old parchment and enchanted lilies. Harry instinctively glanced upward, captivated by a vaulted ceiling adorned with the intricate Greengrass family crest.

“This place is… massive,”

“It’s just a house,” Daphne said with a smirk, though her tone betrayed a hint of pride. “A bit drafty in winter, though.”

Before Harry could reply, a melodic voice chimed from across the hall. “Welcome, Mr. Potter.”

Daphne’s mother, Evelyn Greengrass, approached with a smile that was both warm and calculating. She was the picture of sophistication, her graceful movements reflecting a lifetime of pureblood etiquette. Behind her, Cyrus Greengrass appeared who offered Harry a firm handshake.

“Mr. Potter, it’s an honor to finally meet you,” Cyrus said. “Your reputation precedes you.”

Harry nodded. “Thank you for inviting me. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“Please, call us Evelyn and Cyrus,” Daphne’s mother said, gesturing toward the conservatory. “We thought tea in the conservatory would be a lovely way to start the weekend.”

Harry followed Daphne and her parents, trying not to gawk at the intricate magical plants that adorned the room. The conservatory was bathed in sunlight, with enchanted blossoms that shimmered faintly as if holding tiny galaxies within their petals. As he settled onto a plush sofa, Evelyn clapped her hands lightly.

“Astoria, darling, join us,” she called.

The door opened, and Daphne’s younger sister entered with a graceful stride. Astoria Greengrass was striking in a way that contrasted with Daphne’s composed elegance. Her blonde hair was loosely tied back, and a smudge of paint decorated her cheek, giving her an air of unstudied charm. Harry’s first thought was that she looked like she belonged in one of the enchanted portraits lining Hogwarts’ walls.

“So this is the famous Harry Potter,” Astoria said, her voice laced with mischief as her bright blue eyes flicked over him. “Daphne has told me all about you.”

“All good things, I hope,”

“Mostly,” Astoria quipped, perching on the arm of a nearby chair.

He spotted an easel near the window, where a half-finished painting of a dreamy, ethereal landscape stood. “That’s yours?” Harry asked, nodding toward the artwork.

Astoria’s face lit up. “It is. Painting’s my way of making sense of the world. Some people duel dark wizards; I prefer brushes and charmed pigments.”

“Fair enough,” Harry said, chuckling. “Although I’d wager your method’s a bit more peaceful.”

Astoria tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Mostly. Except when the paint has a mind of its own… or decides it prefers the walls to the canvas.”

Their banter continued, and Harry found himself unexpectedly at ease. Astoria’s wit was sharp, her curiosity genuine, and her laughter contagious. As they spoke, he noticed Daphne watching him. Her lips pressed into a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“So, Harry,” Daphne interjected, “Tell my parents about your work as an Auror. I’m sure they’d love to hear about your latest daring escapade.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly brushing the rim of his goblet as he began, “Well, a few weeks ago, we got a tip-off about a cursed goblet being smuggled into Knockturn Alley. Old thing, supposedly linked to Salazar Slytherin. Nasty curse on it—makes you relive your worst fears if you touch it.”

Evelyn and Cyrus listened with a polite attentiveness.

“It had been stolen from some collector in Switzerland and ended up in an apothecary in Knockturn. The place was warded tighter than Gringotts—anti-Auror charms, a few boggart traps. Nothing too creative, but enough to keep us on our toes.”

“We had to dismantle the wards piece by piece. My partner—Robards—he triggered one of the boggart traps by accident. It was his worst fear—being fired. Spent five minutes trying to ‘resign’ to a room full of phantoms before I managed to banish it.”

Cyrus gave a faint nod, his fingers steepled. “And the artifact itself?”

Harry nodded. “Right. Well, by the time we got to the goblet, the curse had started to activate. The whole place was shaking—shelves collapsing, cauldrons exploding. I didn’t have much choice, so I grabbed it. The curse hit me like a bludger to the chest, but I just held on and got us out before the building collapsed.”

Harry felt Astoria’s eyes on him as he spoke. Her silence was a buzz in the room, an intense, electric hum. He could almost feel her eyes move with him, like a physical touch. It was as if she was really seeing him, and it gave him goosebumps.

Harry glanced at Daphne.

She smiled sweetly at him. Too sweetly.

As the tea concluded, Harry felt a mix of relief and curiosity. The Greengrass family was undeniably fascinating, but the dynamic between the sisters added an unexpected layer of complexity. Astoria’s playful energy contrasted with Daphne’s composed demeanor, leaving Harry feeling both intrigued and unsettled.

As they rose to leave the conservatory, Astoria caught his eye and grinned. “Good luck surviving the weekend, Harry. You’ll need it.”

Daphne’s hand slipped into his,“Don’t worry. He’s tougher than he looks.”

Daphne led Harry upstairs. The grand staircase spiraled upward, lined with ornate banisters and enchanted portraits that whispered as they passed. She didn’t say a word until they reached a room at the far end of the corridor. Pushing open the door, she gestured for Harry to enter.

“This is where we’ll be staying for the weekend.” Harry heard his girlfriend’s voice as he stepped inside.

The room was spacious, with a large four-poster bed and windows overlooking the gardens below. Harry barely had a chance to take it all in before Daphne plopped onto the bed, crossing her arms.

Harry hesitated at the door.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he asked, closing it behind him. “You’re upset. I can feel it.”

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Daphne looked at him.

“See what?”

“Astoria,” Daphne snapped. “She’s hitting on you.”

Harry blinked, genuinely surprised. “What? No, she’s just being friendly.”

Daphne let out a dry laugh. “Friendly? That’s what you think? Harry, she was practically batting her eyelashes at you.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck. “I didn’t notice anything like that. I mean, she’s nice, but—”

“Exactly,” Daphne interrupted. “I knew you wouldn’t see it. That’s why it’s so bloody annoying. That bitch.”

Harry sat down beside her on the bed, reaching for her hand. “Hey, come on. You know there’s nothing to worry about. I’m here with you.”

Daphne sighed, leaning into him slightly. “I know. It’s just… she always does this. Plays innocent, acts sweet, and then tries to steal the spotlight. She’s been like this since we were kids.”

Harry squeezed her hand. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m utterly clueless about these things. You could tell me a flobberworm was flirting with me, and I’d probably believe you.”

That earned him a small smile from Daphne. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re hopeless. But you’re mine.”

Straightening, she called out sharply, “Tibby!”

With a loud pop, a house-elf appeared, bowing so low its nose nearly touched the floor. “Yes, Mistress Daphne?”

“Bring us a bottle of the good wine,” she ordered. “And two glasses.”

Tibby nodded furiously and disappeared with another pop. Harry raised an eyebrow. “Wine?”

“If I’m going to survive this weekend,” Daphne said, reclining against the pillows, “I’m going to need it. And so are you.”

The bottle of wine sat empty on the nightstand, its rich ruby contents long gone. Harry leaned back against the bed’s headboard, his tie undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up. Daphne lounged beside him, her legs stretched out, her cheeks faintly flushed from laughter and drink.

“So,” Harry said, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, “your family’s… interesting.”

Daphne snorted. “Interesting is one way to put it. Try living with them for eighteen years. Astoria’s theatrics alone could drive a mermaid to dry land.”

Harry chuckled, nudging her shoulder with his. “I think your dad likes me, though. Or at least he doesn’t think I’m a complete disaster.”

“He doesn’t hate you, which, for my father, is basically approval,” Daphne said, smirking as she pushed herself upright. Her expression shifted as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Speaking of approval, we’re late. Dinner’s in ten minutes, and if we keep my mother waiting, she’ll have Tibby peeling potatoes until Christmas.”

Harry reached for Daphne’s hand as they stood, pulling her gently toward him. Before she could protest, he leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to her lips, his free hand sliding to rest on her hip before daring to venture lower with a playful squeeze.

Daphne let out a startled laugh, swatting his chest and pushing him back firmly. “Harry!” she hissed, her cheeks tinged with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Not here. This is definitely not the time or place.”

Harry grinned, unapologetic. “Couldn’t resist. You look amazing.”

They left the room, walking side by side down the long, dimly lit corridor. Harry could feel the wine warming his veins, loosening his usually careful posture. Daphne’s hand brushed his arm occasionally as they descended the grand staircase. By the time they reached the dining room, their good humor was evident in their easy smiles and quiet laughter.

The dining room was a masterpiece of pureblood elegance, with an enchanted chandelier casting a soft golden glow over the table. Evelyn and Cyrus were already seated, looking as poised as ever. But it wasn’t their presence that caught Harry’s attention.

Astoria stood at the far end of the table, her stance a tantalizing invitation. Her dress, a deep crimson, hugged her curves, emphasizing her big bubble butt and the sensuous curve of her hips. The fabric clung possessively, showcasing her big tits and slender waist. Her lips, full and red, were made for sucking cocks, and her golden hair tumbled seductively, framing her face with wicked allure.

Harry blinked, momentarily stunned, before quickly averting his eyes. Daphne, however, noticed immediately. Her posture stiffened, and she shot her sister a look that could have frozen fire.

“Nice of you to join us,” Astoria said sweetly, her blue eyes flicking between Harry and Daphne with a hint of mischief. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost upstairs.”

“Hardly,” Daphne replied coolly, sliding into her seat beside Harry. “But I see you’ve taken great care in preparing for dinner, Astoria. Who are you trying to impress?”

“Why, everyone, of course. It’s a special occasion.” Her eyes stayed on Harry for just a beat too long.

Harry, feeling Daphne’s elbow nudge his side under the table, cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, the dining room looks great,” he offered, attempting to defuse the tension.

Cyrus hummed his agreement, clearly uninterested in the brewing storm between his daughters. Evelyn, however, watched the exchange with quiet curiosity, her expression unreadable.

~~~~~~~~~

The plates from the main course had vanished, leaving only half-filled goblets and the soft hum of conversation around the table. Cyrus leaned back in his chair, his eyes settled on Harry.

“So, Harry,” he began, “what are your thoughts on wizarding business ventures? Surely, with your fame, you’ve had your share of intriguing offers.”

“I’ve had a few offers,” he admitted, taking a sip of his goblet. “Mostly sponsorships or partnerships that capitalize on… well, the name.” His tone grew wry, and Daphne’s lips quirked at his honesty. “But I’ve never been interested in that sort of thing. Being an Auror keeps me busy enough.

Cyrus nodded thoughtfully, fingers tapping against his glass. “A commendable path, certainly. Though I imagine it leaves little time for other pursuits—financial or personal.”

“True,” Harry said carefully. “But I’ve found it rewarding in ways that matter to me. There’s satisfaction in making the world a bit safer.”

Evelyn leaned forward, her calculating smile softened into something more genuine. “And what of your future, Harry? Surely there are aspirations beyond the Ministry. You’re still so young; the world is yours for the taking.”

Harry hesitated, glancing briefly at Daphne. “I suppose I haven’t thought too far ahead. Right now, I’m just focused on doing my job well. And…” He paused, his smile turning more personal. “Spending time with the people who matter.”

Daphne’s hand brushed his under the table.

As the conversation at the dinner table wound down, a sudden shimmering light filled the room, followed by the silvery form of a fox Patronus.

“Daphne Greengrass,” Patronus said “Your presence is required at the Ministry immediately. Urgent matter—Level Three priority.”

Daphne sighed and stood up from the table. “Work stuff. Of course it had to be now.”

“Ministry business?” Evelyn asked.

“Yeah. Sorry Harry, looks like you’re on your own tonight.” Daphne squeezed his shoulder before grabbing her wand.

“I’ll survive,” Harry said with a smile. He meant it too - the Greengrasses weren’t nearly as scary as he’d expected.

Astoria snorted from across the table. “Brave of you to leave him with us, sis.”

Daphne just rolled her eyes and gave Harry a quick kiss. “Try not to let them corrupt you completely,” she whispered.

After Daphne left, dinner got weirdly intense. Not in a bad way exactly, but Harry felt like he was being sized up from all angles. Evelyn asked about his views on tradition, Cyrus watched quietly, and Astoria… well, Astoria was definitely flirting.

“So Harry,” she said, “what’s the deal with always chasing danger? Dragons not exciting enough for you?”

“Trust me, I’ve had enough excitement for one lifetime. Though some people are way scarier than dragons.” He couldn’t help grinning at her.

“Oh please, you love it.” Astoria laughed.

Later, as everyone started heading off to bed, Astoria caught up with him in the hall.

“Want to see the gardens? The night sky here is amazing.”

Harry glanced at her parents, but they just smiled. What could go wrong with a quick walk?

The gardens were pretty incredible, all lit up with floating lights. They walked for a while, just talking about random stuff. Then Astoria turned to him.

“So what’s the real story? You happy with my sister?”

The question caught him off guard. “I mean, yeah. Of course.”

“Hmm.” Astoria didn’t look convinced. “We’ll see, I guess.”

Harry looked at her. He didn’t quite know what she meant. His relationship with Daphne was fine. The sex could be a bit more…. kinky but he didn’t have much of a problem with it.

“What do you mean Astoria?”

“Oh, I’m sure Daph is fine,” she replied, a hint of mischief in her voice. “It’s you I’m not so sure about. You don’t strike me as the type to be content with vanilla relationships, Harry. I sense there’s a wilder side to you.”

Harry felt his cheeks flush. Was she implying what he thought she was? “I mean… everyone has their preferences,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “But Daphne and I are doing just fine.”

Astoria smirked, clearly enjoying his discomfort. She tilted her head, her blonde hair catching the soft glow of the floating lights.

“Oh, I’m sure you think so,” she said lightly. “But fine isn’t exactly… memorable, is it?”

Harry blinked at her, trying to find the right response, but his brain felt like it was running through molasses. “Relationships aren’t about… being memorable,” he said finally. “They’re about trust and—well, you know—connection.”

Astoria’s smile widened, and she stepped closer, her voice dropping slightly. “Oh, I don’t doubt you’re connected. But are you having fun, Harry? The kind of fun that makes you stay awake at night thinking about it?”

Harry stiffened, unsure if she was teasing or testing him. Either way, he wasn’t about to let her get under his skin.

“Daphne and I are happy,” he said firmly.“That’s all that matters.”

Astoria’s expression softened, but the glint of mischief in her eyes didn’t fade. “That’s fine. I’m sure of it that Daphne gives you a regular blowjob. that she lets you grab her hair when you fuck her from behind. that she lets you cum on her face. That she talks to you like she is your obedient bitch.” She turned away, starting to walk again. After a moment, she glanced back over her shoulder, her voice carrying just loud enough for him to hear. “But if she doesnt, well, you know where to find me.”

Harry stood rooted to the spot, a torrent of emotions warring within him. Anger and frustration surged, but beneath it all, a raw and powerful desire burned. Astoria’s words had struck a chord, and Harry couldn’t deny his longing for something more. He loved Daphne, deeply, but there was a part of him that craved a different kind of release.

He wanted to feel the heat of passion, the primal urge to take. To grasp a woman’s body, to feel the tightness of her skin, the wetness of her desire as he thrust into her with all his might. It was a basic, carnal need that had been dormant for too long. Harry couldn’t recall the last time Daphne had ignited that fire in him, with a sultry look or a revealing outfit, a hungry touch or a sloppy blowjob.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love her; he did, fiercely. But there was a side to him that longed for a different kind of connection, one that went beyond the tenderness they shared. Harry wanted the heat, the sweat, the raw, animalistic passion that left you breathless and spent. Was it wrong to crave more? To yearn for a different kind of passion? Daphne was right. Astoria was a bitch.

With one last glance at the illuminated garden, he turned on his heel and headed back inside.

The manor was quiet as he climbed the stairs, the soft padding of his shoes the only sound in the dimly lit corridor. Reaching the guest room, Harry slipped inside and closed the door behind him. For a moment, he just stood there, his forehead resting against the wood as he tried to will away the heat coiling in his chest.

He crossed the room and collapsed onto the bed, the plush mattress cradling his weight as he stared at the ceiling. Harry felt conflicted. Loyalty to Daphne was one thing. And a hard throbbing penis that twitched at the thought of Astoria’s large breasts or those dick-sucking lips was another.

With a soft click, the door opened, and Astoria slipped inside.

Harry looked at her. And he felt anger rising.

She moved with deliberate grace, her eyes fixed on Harry as she approached the bed. Harry watched her kneel on the mattress. Astoria leaned over him, her lips brushing his neck gently. She purred softly, her breath tickling his skin, but Harry didn’t move.

Then, with a sudden movement, Astoria grasped his hair, tugging gently, and claimed his lips with hers. It was a kiss born of desire and frustration, a kiss that demanded a response. Harry’s hands roamed greedily over her body. He squeezed her soft, full breasts, his thumbs grazing her nipples, causing her to arch into his touch.

With a low growl, Harry’s hands traveled lower, his fingers dipping into the curve of her waist before landing on her plump ass. He gave it a sharp smack, the sound reverberating through the room. Astoria moaned loudly, her eyes fluttering shut as she surrendered to the sensations coursing through her body. “Harry,” she whispered.

Harry smirked. He delivered another sharp slap to her ass, watching with satisfaction as she squirmed and bit her lip. Her hands fumbled with his zipper, her movements frantic and eager. Then, Harry lay back on the bed, lifting his hips to allow Astoria to strip him of his pants.

Astoria’s tongue traced the outline of Harry’s arousal through the thin fabric of his boxers, her breath hot against the dampening material.

“When was the last time Daphne gave you head, Harry?” she asked

“It was about two months ago.”

Astoria’s smile widened at his admission, a spark of competitive fire lighting up her eyes. She didn’t waste any time. With a swift motion, she pulled down his boxers, freeing his erection, which sprang forth, nearly hitting her in the face. She let out a delighted giggle, her hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

“I’ve been imagining what it would be like to have this beautiful cock in my mouth,” she confessed as she began to move her hand up and down his shaft.

Harry’s response was a low chuckle, his hand moving to rest gently on top of her head. It was an invitation, a silent request for more. Astoria accepted it eagerly, parting her lips to take the head of his cock into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the sensitive tip, eliciting a deep groan from Harry. The sound spurred her on, and she took him deeper, the wet sounds of her sucking filling the room.

Harry’s fingers tangled in her hair, not forcing but guiding her rhythm. Unlike with Daphne, Astoria seemed to crave his touch, her moans growing louder with every slight tug on her hair. She sucked harder, her hand twisting at the base of his cock in perfect sync with her mouth.

From Harry’s perspective, the world had narrowed down to the exquisite sensation of Astoria’s mouth around his cock. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, a curtain of gold that framed her flushed face. Each tug on his length sent ripples of pleasure through him, her moans vibrating against his sensitive flesh in the most intoxicating way.

She was completely uninhibited, her enjoyment evident in every eager bob of her head. As his other hand roamed down the curve of her back, Harry’s fingers explored the soft swell of Astoria’s ass. He gave it a firm squeeze before delivering another sharp spank, reveling in the way her body jolted in response. Astoria’s moans grew louder, her hips shaking seductively as she rode out the sting of his palm against her skin.

“You’re such a good cocksucker,” Harry groaned.

Astoria’s response was a muffled “mmmm…” around his girth, her eyes flickering up to meet his as she took him even deeper.

Harry’s hand gently stilled Astoria’s movements, his cock slipping from her mouth with a lewd sound. He rose from the bed, his body aching with need as he quickly stripped off his remaining clothes. Astoria watched him through half-lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation.

“Take off your clothes, Astoria,” Harry said“Daphne will be back soon, and I want to fuck you before she does.”

Astoria’s eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and mischief as she rose to her feet, her fingers moving to the zipper at the side of her crimson dress. With a slow, teasing smile, she lowered the zipper, allowing the fabric to pool at her feet. She stood before Harry in nothing but her black thong.

“Fuck, Astoria,” he breathed.

Her breasts, full and pert, were tipped with delicate pink nipples that begged for his touch. As she slid her thong down her legs, he caught sight of her smooth, wet pussy, and a surge of desire coursed through him.

Astoria sauntered over to the bed, her hips swaying seductively. She climbed onto the mattress, positioning herself on her elbows and knees, her ass raised enticingly in the air. She glanced over her shoulder at Harry, her eyes dark with lust, and gave her hips a little shake, making her ass cheeks jiggle.

Harry groaned at the sight, his cock throbbing with need. He closed the distance between them in two strides, his hands reaching out to grip her hips.

He aligned himself with her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her wetness. With a firm thrust, he pushed into her, both of them moaning as he filled her completely. Her walls clenched around him, hot and tight, and he had to pause for a moment to regain control.

Harry began to move, setting a steady rhythm as he pumped in and out of her. Astoria met his thrusts with her own movements, pushing back against him, her breathy moans filling the room.

He gripped her hips tightly, using them as leverage to drive deeper into her slick, willing pussy. Each thrust caused her luscious ass to ripple and quiver, the sound of their flesh slapping together punctuating the air.

Astoria’s cries of ecstasy grew louder with each powerful drive, her body rocking beneath him as he took her with an almost savage intensity. The bed creaked under the force of their passion, the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck!” Astoria moaned.

A wicked grin spread across Harry’s face as he reached up to wrap his hand around her throat. His fingers squeezed gently, just enough to remind her who was in control. With his other hand, he fisted a handful of her silky blonde hair, yanking her head back. Astoria gasped, her back arching, her heavy breasts swaying with each punishing stroke.

“Such a good little slut,” Harry praised. “Taking my cock like you were born to do it.”

Astoria’s response was a series of incoherent moans, her body trembling on the edge of release.

Harry’s own climax was imminent, his balls tightening as they prepared to unleash a torrent of hot cum. He watched Astoria’s face, flushed with pleasure, her eyes rolling back as she neared the brink—

And then he saw it. A flicker of movement in his peripheral vision. Harry turned his head slightly, and his heart nearly stopped. There, in the doorway, stood Daphne, her eyes wide with shock, her mouth agape as she took in the sight of her younger sister impaled on Harry’s cock.

Astoria, oblivious to her sister’s presence, was lost in her own pleasure. “Fuck! Fuck yeah! Cum inside me, Harry!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the room.

He felt Astoria’s pussy clench around him as she came, her orgasm triggering his own.

With a final, powerful thrust, Harry exploded inside of Astoria, his cock pulsating as he filled her with his seed.

“Fuck.. fuck!” Harry groaned.

Jet after jet of hot cum painted her inner walls, the sensation intensified by the knowledge that Daphne was bearing witness to their forbidden act.

As the haze of his climax began to clear, Harry’s eyes locked with Daphne’s. He expected to see anger or betrayal in her eyes, but instead, he found a flicker of desire.

Astoria, finally spent, collapsed onto the bed, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Harry slowly withdrew from her, his softening cock slipping out with an obscene squelch. He watched as his cum began to leak from her well-fucked pussy.

The room was silent except for the sound of their ragged breathing. Harry waited for Daphne to speak, to scream, to do something. But she simply stood there, her expression unreadable.

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