Second Chances [The Dudley Story] 29 - Dumbledore’s Courting, A Fetish & The Gift

"I'm home."

"Dad!"

Reza Siahaan hugged his son as soon as he entered his house. He lifted the boy and looked at his wife, a Muggle-born Witch he'd married ten years back. Back then, he never expected it would turn into something so messy. 

He was an Indonesian Wizard. He never went to a school and was pretty much homeschooled. His family came from a long line of ancient wizards, going all the way back to the Majapahit empire. Naturally, he grew up in wealth and with certain expectations. 

Just like Purebloods in the United Kingdom, and other places across the world, his own family was amongst the purists. He was expected to marry a woman his family would choose, another pureblood Witch from another significant family. 

But when he defied them and married for love instead, the consequences were far greater than he could have imagined. Being the only son of his parents, once he got married, his family lost the name, and the wealth, and the coalition of powerful, old families stripped everything of value the family had. In the end, his parents chose to end themselves rather than to live like that. 

Left alone, he only had himself, his wife, and the newborn son. They tried to hunt him down and end his bloodline for good. He hid in forests, on islands, and across Asia. 

That was when he came across a British Witch trying to recruit wizards like him. Wizards who were wronged by the purists. He was skeptical, but he took the leap of faith, and from that moment, everything changed. 

Now, he lived in the UK, working for Dudley Dursley, acting like a common wand for hire, guarding the D&D Headquarters in London. He felt proud and powerful, knowing the might of Vanguards stood with him, and the vow with Dudley Dursley ensured that his rights and his life would be protected if threatened. 

Sure, he was scared of the news that the Dark Lord had risen. But Dudley Dursley had personally guaranteed them that eventually, they'd crush the Dark Lord like an insect. 

"Let's eat." 

####

"This is how you use the copy machine." 

Narcissa Malfoy watched Martha Rockwell, Dudley's Chief Secretary. It being her training period, she was to learn everything about Muggle offices. From copy machines to telephones, and even computers. It was an entirely new world for her. 

At first, she was stiff. Disdainful of the items Muggles had created, and the Muggle society in general. But as days went by, and she reported for her job on time, she noticed the inventions. She knew about telephones with wires, but when she saw the wireless mobile phone, she was shocked. Then she saw a computer and the internet, and for the first time, she realized how connected the Muggle world was. 

Far more than what the magical world could ever hope for. While wizards still relied on owls, Muggles had an instant exchange of words through E-mail. Entire business contracts were shared, and entire financial deals were made without even leaving one's office. 

That wall of pride slowly started to crack. She genuinely tried to learn and understand the Muggle technologies. The more she learned, the more she found it amusing. And as she heard from Martha what Dudley did exactly, she wondered if Dudley was so successful because he was a Muggle-born. 

Investing in technology around the world. Those investments had manifolded already. Giving returns that far exceeded the entire wealth of Malfoys. 

At last, she understood him. For Dudley, taking Malfoy wealth was never about money. Malfoy wealth didn't mean anything, it was far below what Dudley already had. No, Dudley's actions were purely aimed at revenge. 

"I understand," Narcissa said and repeated after Martha, using the copy machine. 

"Excellent. Now then, let me acquaint you with the coffee machine. You’ll be assuming the role of Executive Secretary under my supervision. Not to worry—this is hardly where your journey ends. Mr. Dursley has asked me to introduce you gently to the workings of the administration. With luck and diligence, you’ll rise from Junior Clerk to Administrative Associate in good time." Martha led Narcissa over to Dudley’s office suite. Although Dudley wasn't there, Martha, Narcissa, and a few secretaries were still stationed in the large hall outside Dudley's office. 

As they walked, Narcissa eyed the people. She was already aware that she wasn't the only Witch or Wizard there. There were others, Muggle-borns, all of them. They worked in the office like anyone else. The drivers of the executives were also Squibs. D&D Holdings was a melting pot of Muggles and wizards. 

"And this shall be your cubicle. My office is just there—the one with my name on the door. Should you require anything, do feel free to knock at any time." Martha said and pointed at a booklet on the cubicle desk. "For now, please familiarize yourself with the code of conduct and memorize as much as you’re able."

Narcissa nodded and took a seat. The air was clean in the office, and the faint hum of the air conditioner was audible. She felt out of place, wearing a Muggle office outfit, a white shirt, a knee-length black skirt, black stockings, black heels, and hair made silky smooth, untied. She felt more like a woman on display to someone, although there was nobody to see her.   

As the chair softly creaked, she sighed alone and looked at the ceiling where a large light was hanging. 

Will this be my life now? For how long? 

But it was still better than being penniless or a Death Eater. At least nobody disrespected her, and Martha was kind, despite being a Squib and knowledgeable of her ancestry and past. 

For Draco… Once he completes Hogwarts, we can leave this country. 

And until then, she hoped to amass some wealth by working. 

####

Hogwarts, 

"Thank you, Headmaster. For those kind words of welcome."

There was silence in the Great Hall. The students had just arrived for dinner, and the sorting ceremony had taken place. And now, a woman fully dressed in pink interrupted Dumbledore and took the podium to speak. 

Short in stature, with a broad, flabby face, a wide, slack mouth, and a short neck. Truly, a face only a mother could love. But again, her father threw out her mother for birthing a Squib son. And Dolores, being the dumb bitch she was, hated her Muggle heritage. 

Dolores walked on the high platform of the teachers, eyeing the students. Her eyes were bulging even with those large eyebags. The woman had not a single redeeming quality. Not physically, nor mentally. She was like a fly perched dangerously above a toad, a fly that only lived to be quashed, and killed. 

"Man, I feel like my ears will shatter." Dudley groaned whilst sitting between Hannah and Susan, their hands doing the usual, caressing his thighs and waking up the sleeping dragon. 

But why's she here? Harry didn't get attacked by the Dementors as far as I know.

"And how lovely to see all your bright, happy faces, smiling up at me—"

Cough! Cough! Cough!

Dudley suddenly coughed loudly, the only guy making any noise among the students. All eyes turned towards him, same for Dolores. 

Pfft! Man, being fucking absurdly filthy rich is fun. She can't do shit to me. 

He really was just fucking around. Hogwarts was his territory, and there was no need to hide and cower there. Not at all with his private army outside. 

"Ah, sorry, choked on some apple juice. Please continue." Dudley said, waving his hand. 

Susan and Hannah on his sides shrank their necks, as if embarrassed. 

Surprisingly, Dumbledore was smiling while looking at Dudley, as if enjoying that Dolores was interrupted. 

"Well, I hope you're well now." Dolores continued, "I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends—"

Cough! Cough! Cough!

"Ah, sorry. Choked up again—Felt like a toad got stuck in my throat."

At that point, half the Hufflepuff table was covering their mouths with their hands to hide their laughter.  

Dolores Umbridge didn't acknowledge Dudley's interruption anymore and kept talking. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged—"

Dolores paused mid-speech again as she noticed a hand rising amongst the students. Her brows twitched when it turned out to be Dudley again. "Yes?"

Dudley stood up this time. "So, no exams then? They're just a formality, really. It's not like they serve any other purpose—they exist for the sake of progress no?"

Dolores Umbridge frowned and glanced at Dumbledore to reprimand the student. But in response, she received a nod, as if told to answer the student. 

"Exams are vital to find worthy wizards who can serve our society the best. We should only preserve what must be preserved. Perfect what can be perfected—"

Without even sitting, Dudley raised his hand and asked. "Professor Umbridge, are you a representative of the Ministry?"

All eyes turned toward the pink-clad woman. 

Since it was an open secret, Dolores nodded. 

"Great!" Dudley chirped, smiling brightly. "So, since we should preserve and perfect, I was saying, when will the Ministry buy its students new brooms? Shouldn't we be learning to fly on the best? Oh, also, the castle looks pretty dirty, I mean, look behind you, look at that corner, so dark."

"..."

At that point, everyone looked at Dudley, as if seeing a ghost. Most there had never seen Dudley being so proactive in anything. Usually, he was the silent type. 

"That, I’m afraid, falls quite outside the Ministry’s jurisdiction—it lies with the Board. The Ministry, as you should be aware, concerns itself solely with ideological discipline. Finances are not our concern. We are going to prune practices that ought to be prohibited." She finished what she wanted to, and smiled. But then, instead of leaving, she specifically looked at Dudley. "The Ministry is not influenced by money. It is the preservation of culture, of values, of proper order that matters. Peace, dear, must always come first."

We'll see about that, you toad-faced bitch. 

Hatred for that woman just arose from deep within his heart. Heck, Dudley didn't even know her much and despised her already. She was the representation of the worst kind of political power. Tyrannical of sorts as Minister Fudge remained a spineless coward. She was evil, callous, corrupt, sadistic, arrogant, and extremely power-hungry. 

But history was proof. Women like Dolores were pathetically weak-minded. With due pressure, her proud spine would break and she would cower, beg for another chance or forgiveness. 

Just like that, the dinner came to an end. Not as exciting as most were hoping for. Dudley really felt bad for the new first years who got to see the worst of the Hogwarts era. 

Or the most entertaining. We'll see it soon enough.

Smiling, he eyed the Slytherin table and focused on the dark-haired girl beside Draco. 

Will be pretty entertaining for me, at least. 

####

"Morning, Big D."

"Hey, Dud."

"Morning, Dudley."

First thing in the morning, Dudley was tragically summoned to the Headmaster's office. He didn't know why, but he was to report there before breakfast. And as he walked through the corridor, every student except for the Slytherins, greeted him with a big smile. 

Dudley wasn't as famous as Harry Potter and Voldemort, a name on every tongue. But he was still famous on a more profound level. In Hogwarts, he was pretty much the walking, talking, living vault of endless wealth. Outside, he was the wealthy genius that was competing with Goblins. 

Still, he was more famous inside Hogwarts. A name of a certain reputation. Most wanted to be like him, befriend him, or work with him after finishing Hogwarts. 

"Hey, girls." He waved at Padma and Parvati as the twins walked past him. It had been a while since he last spent time with them. 

The fifth-year won't be that hectic within the school, I guess. 

Eventually, he arrived at the Headmaster's office. Not being his first visit, he said the password and walked up the spiral staircase. After knocking on the door twice, he opened it and walked inside. 

"Ah, good morning to you, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said kindly, standing by the hearth, throwing some old letters into it. "Take a seat."

Dudley did just that and sat down lavishly. He tried to touch the phoenix there but the red bird shrank its neck back. 

The fuck? Am I too evil for you now? Capitalism ain't evil, buddy. 

"The bank was a success," Dumbledore said as he took his seat back. "My colleagues who invested have nothing but praise for you."

"Appreciate the kind words, Professor," Dudley said. Unlike the contracts that the likes of Lucius and other Purebloods signed, the one with Dumbledore was genuine. 

Dumbledore, alongside the group of wizards that Dumbledore represented, collectively owned five percent of his bank. It was nothing compared to the rest of the pie, and the contracts locked them out of the bank's administration and nodes of information. They were supposed to just sit back and watch the money roll in. 

After all, Dudley still needed the support of good wizards. Especially the likes of Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel were necessary. Their names held a lot of weight. With their support, he could fuck up the finances of Purebloods and Dark Wizards.

"My word, you wouldn’t imagine how many letters have arrived from MACUSA’s President Aiyana and Ilvermorny's Headmaster, eager to exchange you for one of their own," Dumbledore revealed, looking amused. "At the urging of the American Muggle authorities, no less. I’ve only just finished burning their proposals. Hogwarts does not participate in such exchanges."

Sure, old man. I believe you. Who would wanna throw away the golden goose? 

Dudley chuckled and shrugged. "It was expected. But I'm perfectly comfortable here."

"That is most heartening to hear. In addition, I have received word from the International Confederation of Wizards. They are prepared to hear your arguments concerning the Statute of Limitations’ reach, as well as the engagement of wizards in Muggle enterprises. Convince them, and I believe your future efforts to enlist magical talent will be unimpeded."

That was unexpected. Dudley frowned a little and thought it over. "When is this meeting going to happen?"

“You will be joining me during the Christmas holiday for a visit to their headquarters. I recommend you make the necessary arrangements ahead of time.” Dumbledore advised earnestly and put forward a folded piece of paper. "It contains the names of the delegates who will be present."

Damn, that's pretty helpful. Dudley pocketed the list. But why this kindness? 

"Thank you, Professor." 

"No need, Mr. Dursley. While Hogwarts has seen many remarkable students, it is also our solemn duty to nurture such brilliance. What you have accomplished is truly extraordinary. By weaving wizards into Muggle enterprise, you are forging a new economy—one where wizardkind is more closely knit with the wider world."

Well, I just wanted to make money. 

“And…” Dumbledore said, his voice low as he opened the drawer once more. From within, he produced a yellow badge, bearing the letter ‘P’. “Due to the sorrowful loss of young Mr. Diggory, this decision was postponed. But at last, it has been made—you are to serve as the Hufflepuff boys’ Prefect.”

"Really?" Dudley was surprised. He was pretty good at some subjects, but he was clearly not the brightest of the bunch.

Alright, you're overdoing it, old man. Dudley grew more skeptical. What do you want? Ah, wait! Trying to recruit me into your Order or something? Fuck that! 

He did grab the badge, though, and neatly put it on his black wizard robe. 

"Thank you, Professor." 

Dumbledore smiled and placed a signed parchment on the desk next. “Professor Vector has asked that I grant you access to the Restricted Section—particularly the volumes on Arithmancy. There are few, admittedly, but those few are rather precious.”

Holy hell! He's really trying to seduce me now. 

"I… I'll be responsible with it, Professor. I'll only read them in the library," he properly responded. 

"That is most reassuring, Mr. Dursley. Now then, return to the Great Hall. You still have some time for breakfast before your Potions class."

Dudley got up and left giddily, having gained so much. With the badge proudly on his chest, he strolled into the Great Hall and approached his two precious minx, eating while chattering and reading a newspaper. 

He walked behind them, glanced at the newspaper article they were reading, and chuckled at its contents. But that wasn't important. 

"Look who just became a Prefect."

Hannah and Susan turned their heads to look behind at the same time. Both their eyes grew wide. But while Susan's eyes showed despair, Hannah's revealed excitement. After all, she was the girl's prefect. 

"Merlin!" Susan cursed. "Now you two will do it in that prefect bath, won't you?"

Dudley grinned and instead of sitting between them, sat beside Hannah instead. He immediately placed his hand on the blonde girl's lap and felt her creamy leg. "You bet, Susan. I'll be doing Hannah first thing in the morning, every single morning. Maybe even evening baths. You alright with that, Hannah?"

"Hehe… I'd love that." Hannah giddily replied, spreading her knees a little to let his hand take more liberty. "I even stocked up on potions. I want it all… inside me."

"Ugh… Fuck you two." Susan groaned and landed her face on the table. 

Hannah caressed her friend's back. "Oh, we’ll be doing that, Susan… a lot."

Dudley chuckled and stopped teasing her. "Fine, you can join us… occasionally."

But Susan remained dejected. "That's supposed to make me happy? Dudley, it feels like shit when your two best friends are so much more capable than you. Especially now… I feel so left out."

"Aw…" Hannah hugged her. 

Dudley wanted to join but they were in the Great Hall. He just kept playing underneath the table. Just his hand, Hannah's legs, and what lay between them. 

Sure, it was improper. But it was absolutely filthy and erotic. 

And he loved it. 

####

After breakfast, Dudley went to the first class of the day, Potions. It was one of the classes that didn't scare him that much. Arithmancy had always helped him make top-tier potions. However, he was more entertained by the fact that the class was shared with Slytherin.

As expected, right when Dudley entered the potions classroom, an angry, dark-haired Slytherin girl ragingly rushed towards him. She was short for his size, her face pretty but her expressions not so much. 

"What did you bloody do?!" Pansy Parkinson snapped, grabbing Dudley by the collar with a sneer. "Don’t play dumb—I know it was you!"

Dudley acted shocked and looked around. All eyes were on them, be it Hufflepuff or Slytherin. It was an amusing sight, short Pansy trying to manhandle Dudley. 

"What? What on earth are you on about?" Dudley raised his arms to the side. "What exactly did I do?"

Pansy's eyes grew more furious. “You filthy Mudblood! You’ve gone and done it now. How dare you peddle lies about my family? Everyone read the Daily Prophet! How could you slander my parents like that—calling them frauds? Criminals?!”

"Oh, that?" Dudley raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t lift a finger, actually. Your parents were found out—caught red-handed, really. Turns out they slipped silver coins charmed to look like Galleons into the bank. Clever trick, I’ll give them that. But the bank’s got safeguards for that sort of thing. Best have a word with your mum and dad. Can’t be easy—losing access to their vault and estate. Temporary, of course. There’s an internal review underway, and the Ministry’s stepping in too."

Pansy clenched his collar harder. 

Dudley, while maintaining a smile, coldly glared at her. He lowered his head slightly and grabbed both her wrists. He squeezed her wrists hard, enough to leave marks. 

"Careful now, Ms. Parkinson," Dudley whispered to her. "Didn’t your mum and dad ever teach you some manners? It's best not to bare your teeth when you can't handle being bitten."

Thud!

"What is the meaning of this?!" 

Professor Snape arrived right then and glared at the small crowd. 

"Nothing really, Professor. Pansy just got a bit carried away reading about her parents this morning—hard not to, now they're proper celebrities." Dudley smiled and smacked her hands away and walked over to his table. 

"Five points from Hufflepuff… and Slytherin."

Dudley just smiled and stood between Hannah and Susan, preparing the potion tools with them. But then he noticed Susan being unusually silent. 

"What?"

"Nothing." Susan chirped and kept working. 

Suspicious. 

But he couldn't prove anything. So, he focused on the class. 

"Open the books. Today you will learn to brew Invigoration Draught. You'd be a fool not to know what it does, but I suppose there are a few in my class. It boosts the drinker's energy…"

It was a fairly easy potion to make. But the main thing was to be calm. It was easy to make but also easy to go wrong if the process was disturbed. So while Dudley did it in one take, the others took multiple takes. And the thing about it was that the more one got nervous and anxious, the more they messed up. 

He only helped Susan and Hannah and then just relaxed at his table, waiting for Snape to come around and check his potion in the end. It was a double class, so it was pretty boring for him. 

Might as well drop him a hint. 

Dudley waited till the end of the class, reading the potions book to pass some time. Eventually, Snape came around, hurling insults at the students who failed to brew the potion. 

"It is adequate." Snape judged his potion. 

It being adequate meant it was the best quality it could be. At least that was how Dudley took it. 

Once the class was over, Dudley remained behind after sending Susan and Hannah away with his books. The next class was DADA but they had some free time first as Potions was a double class.

One by one, he waited for everyone to leave. He'd seen that Snape had already noticed his lingering, unmoving presence. The Potions professor stayed behind instead of retiring to the smaller personal office. 

Eventually, it was just the two of them. Snape didn't say anything, as if waiting for Dudley to start.

Alright then, I'll bark and leave. 

"Professor, do you know about tattoos? They're popular among Muggles."

Snape nodded his head but said nothing. 

"You know, funny thing—loads of people end up regretting their tattoos. Happens more than you’d think. That’s why they get them removed. And yeah, Muggles have got these machines now that do the job. Quite something, really. I could’ve had a snake and skull on my arm and—poof—gone, just like that. Hurts a bit, sure, but worth it in the end. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, but if it works, I’d say it’s worth it."

Snape unconsciously moved his arms and crossed them over his chest. "What makes you believe one hates their ink?"

Dudley shrugged, smiling. "How would I know? Could be anything. Changed feelings, return of old love, hopeful future, buyer's remorse."

Sorry, Lily, I gotta use your name to move this old dog. 

Silence fell between them once again. 

Seeing Snape say nothing, Dudley turned around to leave. "Have a good day, Professor."

"Who?" Snape voiced right when Dudley was at the door. "Who got their ink removed?"

Dudley just shook his head and left without answering. Saying too much was counterintuitive.

####

Having some time before the DADA class, Dudley quickly left the Potions classroom and walked into the Library. He handed the signed letter from Dumbledore to the librarian and got permission to enter the Restricted Section. 

Weird, I've never visited the Restricted section before. He thought while he walked between the massive, high shelves, getting further and further from all the other students occupying tables and studying. 

As if the Restricted section was meant to be scary, the further he went into the library towards the section, the less bright the light became. 

"Dudley."

"Fuck!" Dudley jumped and turned around, wand out with urgency. So occupied in his thoughts that the whispering call for his name spooked him. "What the… Daphne? What are you doing here?"

Dudley looked left and right to see if there were any other Slytherins, if it was an ambush. But it was early in the morning, and not many students visited the library at that time. Moreover, Daphne looked furious, her brows creased, her blue eyes narrow, her pretty face as frozen as ever. 

But for some reason, she wasn't wearing her black Hogwarts robe. She stood there, an arm's length away, in just a white shirt, and uniform skirt. But on another look, her skirt looked folded around her waist, making the bottom edge rise high, near her upper thighs. That revealed much of her black pantyhose-clad toned legs. 

Hot as fuck, sure. But Dudley wasn't as easily swayed by her. 

"Dudley, are you ignoring me?"

Dudley scratched his head. It had just been a day since he last met her on the train. "No?"

"Why didn’t you answer the note I left you in Potions? I sat there, waiting the entire lesson. Then you had the nerve to stay behind. Are you avoiding me?"

Note? Wh… Ah, fuck, Susan must have taken it. No wonder she was acting suspicious.

"No, I'm not avoiding you. I really had something to discuss with Professor Snape." Dudley replied, but then he frowned, realizing he didn't need to clarify anything to Daphne. They weren't dating, after all. 

"Then…" Daphne's brows calmed and she walked closer to Dudley, all the way until she could reach him, and she did. She rose on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Then prove it… I need it…"

Is this… really happening? Dudley froze for a moment. 

Sure, he knew that she somewhat liked him. Her dancing with him during Yule Ball was proof enough. Then their sexual encounter on the train last year. But was she so into him to go this far? 

Before he could say anything, Daphne launched her lips on him. 

Dudley remained motionless briefly, caught off guard by how suddenly Daphne had thrown herself at him, but only for a heartbeat. The scent of her, that unmistakable, expensive perfume clinging to a body trembling with heat, struck him like a spell. A “noble young lady,” burning up with unfiltered desire. His cock stiffened instantly, swelling hard against his trousers.

His arm wrapped tight around her slim waist as he spun her toward the towering bookshelf behind her. The scent of old parchment and polished wood was quickly drowned out by the heat wafting from her body. With a single motion, he pressed her back against the shelf, and their lips collided once more, this time, wet, messy, and wanting.

His tongue slid in first, pushing into the heat of her mouth. It moved with growing hunger, dancing over her teeth, lapping at the inside of her cheeks, tasting her like she was the first drop of water after a long, thirsty march. His hands roamed her side, that slender, soft waist, stroking up, and down, pulling her tighter against the ridge of his bulge.

Daphne suppressed her moan, her breath ragged and short, humming in broken gasps as her tongue fought his. She kissed like a woman starving; messy, greedy, all teeth and lips and spit. Her thighs pressed together as she squirmed, but she never pulled away, never paused. She wanted this. Wanted him.

When he pulled back, a thin trail of spit stretched between their tongues. Her flushed face, half-lidded eyes, and kiss-bitten lips made his cock throb in his pants.

"You sure about it?" he whispered. "Doing it right here, in the library?"

"A quick one?" she asked back, or rather whimpered, desperate like a plea dressed as a question.

He chuckled low in his throat and nodded. "Sure."

He still didn’t know what the hell she saw in him, but hell—she was hot. Slytherin or not, Daphne had always been one of the less haughty ones. Cool and distant, yes, but never cruel to him. And now? With her mouth on his, soft and wet and warm? Now she was pure fire.

"Hnnngh!" She gasped when he suddenly seized both her wrists, yanking her arms above her head, and pinning them high against the shelf. Books rattled slightly above them as he held her there.

Then his mouth crashed onto hers again. His tongue shoved back in, sweeping and stroking every inch of her fragrant mouth with greedy, swirling licks. She whimpered under him, body straining and melting against his. That was exactly what she wanted.

His other hand slid up her thigh, and he slipped beneath her high skirt—and paused. No pantyhose?

Just black-thigh-highs hugging her pale legs, skin left bare between the garter and the top of her thighs. His knuckles brushed skin; too much skin.

“…Oh?”

There was nothing.

No panties.

She had come to him like that—ready. Wanting. Soaking. Waiting for him to touch her.

Dudley's restraint shattered like glass.

His fingers slipped between her thighs, and there it was; heat. Wet, slick, glistening heat. He groaned softly as two fingers parted the velvet lips of her pussy, stroking up and down her glistening folds. His middle finger curled in deep, while his thumb rolled slowly over her swollen clit, spreading her nectar across every inch of her throbbing slit.

“Mmmhhh… That’s it… Yeshhh…” she moaned into his mouth. Her thighs parted, just slightly, instinctively, welcoming him in deeper like her body was pleading for more.

Squelch!

Wet sounds filled the narrow corner of the library. Her lower lips were soaked. His fingers thrust and curled, plunging into her like a piston, dragging along every twitching, sensitive ridge of her inner walls.

Her juices clung to his hand, warm and sticky, even dripping between his knuckles.

He fingered her fast with filthy, greedy strokes. Every pump sent droplets rolling down her trembling thighs, even dripping against the stone floor beneath her feet.

“Uuuuuuhnnnnmmm~!” she moaned through clenched teeth, biting her lower lip until it turned white. Her hands were still pinned high above her, but her hips writhed, wriggling like a serpent, body shaking and twitching under his grip.

Her eyes rolled back. Legs shaking. She was breaking.

And then it hit.

Her fertile depths clamped hard around his fingers, spasming, rippling with orgasmic pulses. She came; a flood spilled from between her thighs, soaking his hand and running in sticky trails down her legs. She moaned again, long and trembling, unable to stop herself as her climax crashed through her.

Dudley slowly released her wrists. Her arms sagged, boneless, as she panted and gasped, chest rising and falling fast. While her body still twitched from aftershocks, Dudley stepped back just enough to undo his belt and lower his pants to his thighs. The sound of fabric rustling barely registered; until his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, twitching with hunger.

Daphne’s dazed eyes drifted downward and widened. That cock. Big, flushed, and angry-red at the tip. Just as thick and long as she remembered. Veins bulged along the length, pulsing with anticipation, ready to ruin her all over again.

She didn’t say a word. Just grabbed his hand, the one still wet with her slick—and lifted it to her mouth.

Dudley’s eyes widened as her soft lips parted, her pink tongue curling around his fingers. She licked slowly. Luxuriously. Like she was savoring some rare and decadent dessert. Her eyes rolled back slightly, lashes fluttering, as she tasted the combined flavor of herself and the sweat of the man she craved.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, watching her tongue slide between his two fingers, sucking as if she were tasting his cock already.

She licked the last drop from the tip of his middle finger and then looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, flushed and trembling. She bit her lip, gulped, and leaned back into the shelf once more, angling her hips out.

“In me…” Her voice was a thread of silk soaked in lust. “I want it.”

Dudley didn’t need convincing.

His cock, rigid and slick with pre-cum, naturally nestled between her plush, velvety thighs. The heat coming off her made his brain throb. She was so warm, so wet, so ready, that he didn’t even need to guide himself. Her soaked pussy practically pulled him in like gravity.

“Mmm…” she murmured, glancing around quickly—a spark of caution still flickering behind her haze of need. Then her gaze snapped back to Dudley. “I need it.”

"No need to tell me that… I need it too now." Dudley smirked, eager to shove his cock into her.

He gripped her left thigh and lifted it, hooking her leg high beside his waist. The new position stretched her open, and her slick folds glistened like an invitation; hot, pulsing, desperate.

“Put it in… yourself,” Dudley commanded, his voice thick with lust. He wanted to see her do it, see that dainty, eager hand guide him to her hole like the greedy witch she was.

Daphne’s hand moved shakily down, fingers trembling as she gripped the base of his cock. She whimpered as her fingertips wrapped around it, marveling again at the size. She angled him up, nudging the swollen head against her soaked slit. Her pussy lips kissed his crown, twitching on contact.

He pushed in just the tip and then paused.

“Fffffuck…” he hissed. She clung to him immediately, suckling the head of his cock like it had a mouth of its own. The heat inside her was unbearable, like plunging into molten silk, tight, wet, and clinging. Her entrance stretched around him, struggling to accommodate his girth.

His hand slid up the side of her face and pressed flat over her jaw, tilting her head slightly as he crashed his mouth onto hers. Tongue, teeth, spit; the kiss was messy, devouring, and necessary.

“Mmmmmmph—!”

Daphne cried out into his mouth, muffled but unmistakably overwhelmed. Her pussy spasmed as more of him slid inside, slowly, inch by aching inch. Her walls fluttered around him, slick muscles twitching, throbbing, gripping with a hunger that made him shake.

It was torture. Delicious torture.

Her pussy parted for him inch by inch like a velvet vice, her inner walls tightening and sucking around every ridge and bump of his shaft. She was drenched, her juices coating him, squelching and dripping with every push forward.

Plap!

He dragged his cock out halfway, then slammed it back in. Slow at first, then deeper. He could feel her cervix kissing his cockhead, soft and trembling. Each thrust was a wave of hot friction. Every move she made, a little squirm, a needy whimper, a clench of her legs, he felt it from the inside.

Daphne's hand slid up to Dudley's shoulder for balance, the other reaching tenderly to his face, fingers brushing his cheek with a rare softness. Like a lover caught in the storm of her own lust. Her lips met his again, but this time it wasn’t rushed, it was deliberate, molten. Her tongue rolled into his mouth and stayed there, sweeping over his like a slow, erotic dance.

She closed her eyes. And gave herself up completely.

The only foot she had on the floor wasn’t enough to steady her anymore. Her thighs gripped around Dudley’s waist, but her weight sagged with every pounding thrust. Sometimes she was up on her toes, sometimes half airborne—bouncing erratically with each brutal plunge of his cock. She was nearly dangling from his cock, like a wet doll clinging to a piston made of iron.

Dudley groaned into her mouth, gripping her tight, feeling every slippery spasm her fine, love hole gave around his cock. He was lodged impossibly deep inside her, the thick head of his cock hammering against the entrance to her cervix. 

Pa! Pa! Pa! 

Every thrust sent a muffled, wet slap echoing in the air, her drenched pussy folding around his shaft, twitching, and clenching as if trying to milk him.

And then—it happened.

She broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, and both hands flew to her own mouth. Her body went stiff. Her back arched like a bowstring, head thudding softly into the shelf behind her.

“—Mmmnnnnh!!”

She let out a shattering moan into her hands, barely muffled. Her entire body trembled like she’d been electrocuted, hips shaking, pussy spasming uncontrollably.

Her climax hit like a damn tidal wave. She gushed over his cock in a hot, wet burst, her core squeezing around him, clenching so tight his cock could barely move. The warmth of her release flooded around his shaft, coating it with syrupy heat, and soaking her inner thighs. It poured down, leaking onto her stockings, making a mess of her legs. She was coming hard. Violently.

Dudley’s grip tightened. His own orgasm was suddenly slamming right up his spine, ready to burst. He gritted his teeth.

“Where?” he hissed between ragged breaths.

“I–In… meh…” she moaned behind her trembling fingers, barely audible.

Damn! 

“…Really?” he panted. “Daphne fucking Greengrass… needy for some dirty cum?”

He smirked as he fucked her slow and deep through her aftershocks, trying to tease her, maybe embarrass her. But she didn’t flinch.

“Don’t… m-make me say… it,” she mumbled. Her lips brushed his again, wet and trembling. “I want to feel it…”

Fuck! She's my kind of crazy. 

His thrusts slammed into her, hard and fast, with no more mercy left. The shelf behind her shook violently, books jostling and threatening to spill. The wet, obscene slap of hips-on-thighs echoed louder. His balls swung and clapped against her with every shove.

"Mmm… there… it is… then…. All of it!" 

He rammed forward one last time, cock plunging balls deep inside her messy, quivering cunt. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her down, practically lifting her off the floor as he unleashed.

Dudley came.

Hot, thick, creamy. It erupted out of him in violent pulses. The first burst clung to her walls like fresh lava, and he kept going, twitching inside her as more batter shot out in messy, boiling loads. It filled her up, spilled out, and poured in obscene gushes from her stretched pussy lips.

The mess leaked from her used pussy in thick, lazy dribbles, a creamy flood that clung and stretched before slipping down in warm drips. Her folds were swollen, glistening, fluttering around the aftermath of his release—leaking like a stuffed, twitching mouth too full to hold it all in.

But their mouths never broke.

Even as he finished, even as his cock twitched one last time and began to soften, they kept kissing. Deep, slow, filthy. Her tongue still slithering lazily around his. 

Eventually, his shaft slid out on its own, coated and glistening, slathered in her slick and his cum. He let it hang, not bothering to tuck himself in yet.

"Mm…" Daphne panted as she felt Dudley's body stop pressing against her. She felt her raised leg sorely land down. She felt that thick, viscous stuff trickle out of her core. "Don't… Don't tell anyone about this."

And there comes the old Daphne. 

"Sure." He said and fixed himself up, pulling his pants back. Magic was amazing when it came to cleaning up after dirty sex. 

"And…" Daphne also used her wand to clean her clothes. But surprisingly, she didn't clean her slit. Instead, she took out wrinkled panties from her pocket and wore them, despite her pussy still filled with his sticky release. 

Fetish? It has to be a fetish. Dudley felt so hot by that sight. Picture perfect Daphne Greengrass walking around with his hot batter inside. 

"If you don't mind… Can we do this more often?" she asked.

Is it the money or am I just so charming?

Dudley had so many questions, but none enough to deny Daphne. “Fine by me. But instead of deciding on a place, let's just contact each other when we want it. We'll make a plan on the spot."

"Hmm… But how will we contact each other without being seen? I… don't want this known."

Typical Pureblood bullshit. But understandable. 

“Let’s keep it simple. I’ll give you three winks if I’m keen. You lick your lips three times if you want it. After that, we find somewhere quiet and make a plan. I’ve still got the Arithmancy classroom key—if it’s empty, that’s our spot.”

For a moment, Daphne's eyes went wide in surprise. She wasn't expecting something so thorough. But then she remembered that he was also physical with Susan and Hannah. It made sense why he'd have “spots” ready. 

"Just to be clear, Dudley. We're not dating."

Why the fuck would I complain about that? 

"I know."

"Then I'll go first." Daphne turned around, clearly embarrassed to stay there as her that heat had been vanquished. 

Dudley watched her go for a while, her round, beautiful hips swaying like a ballerina dancing. Just imagining that sticky batter still inside there… it was fucking erotic. 

Alright, no more horny.

He turned and went back to search for books in the Restricted section.

####

Defense Against the Dark Arts class was just as boring as Dudley had expected. She was simply too annoying. She got on his nerves just by being in the same room as him. 

"Ordinary wizarding level examinations." Dolores Umbridge walked into the class haughtily and wrote on the chalkboard with just her wand. "O-W-L's—More commonly known as OWLs. Study hard, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and the consequences may be… severe."

"Pffft!"

Dudley wheezed out controlled laughter suddenly, even as he received Hannah's kick from his side. But he didn't stop even when everyone looked at him. 

"What is so funny, Mr. Dursley?" asked Dolores, her voice so annoying it felt like chalk screeching on the board.

He looked up at her, lips twitching with a suppressed grin. "Nothing, Professor. Just—‘consequences’ struck me as a bit funny. I mean… even if I packed up and left Hogwarts now, nothing would really change for me. Richest now will be richer tomorrow."

He'd never flaunted his wealth like that before. Not in the previous years. But again, a lot had changed. And also, he really despised her. And since Slytherins were also there, it was better they get the message early. 

"Of course," Dolores replied, smiling back at him. "But not everyone is Dudley Dursley, is it?"

"That's true." Dudley didn't argue at that, waiting for something else to come up. 

Dolores floated the books then, one for each student. "Your previous instruction in this subject has been disturbingly uneven. But you'll be pleased to know, from now on, you will be following a carefully structured, ministry-approved course of defensive magic."

"Pfffft…"

"..."

With eyes shaking in anger, Dolores Umbridge once again looked at Dudley. "What's funny now?"

"Eh, nothing, Professor. When you said Ministry, I remembered something about government a muggle American president once said on stage." 

"Really? Why don't you share it with us then? The famous Dudley Dursley parting knowledge to all of us. I'm sure it's more valuable than a lesson in my class," Dolores replied, voice laced with mockery. 

"Sure." Dudley stood up proudly. "He said, the nine most terrifying words in the English language are 'I'm from the government and I'm here to help.'... I think it was Ronald Reagan.”

"Hah!"

Someone laughed amongst the students first, and then the others followed. They clearly got the clue about what Dudley was trying to say. 

Dolores Umbridge tightened her grip on her wand but kept smiling. 

"Professor, if you don’t mind me asking—since you’re from the Ministry—could you help me understand a few things?" Dudley continued. "Is it true the Dark Lord has returned? Were those pictures in the Daily Prophet real? And was Lucius Malfoy a Death Eater?"

"Lies!" Dolores snapped. “You will not repeat such drivel in my classroom, Mr. Dursley. The sensationalist nonsense peddled by the Daily Prophet has been discredited. A handful of poorly forged images do not constitute evidence. The Ministry is handling matters. You children need only do what you rarely manage: study!”

"Really? Wait, then how did Cedric die? Wasn't he killed? They said it was the Killing Curse that killed him."

"It was an accident!"

"Really, Professor? That must’ve been quite the accident—having a Killing Curse just drop out of the sky like that. I mean… how do you even defend against something like that?"

By that point, it was clear as day to anyone that Dudley was mocking her. He didn't really try to hide it, constantly smiling smugly. As if in competition with Dolores. 

"Enough! You, Mr. Dursley, are not so different from your cousin after all!" Dolores roared in high pitch, and just as suddenly she went loud, she went calm, giggling. "See me in my office later, Mr. Dursley."

"Sure."

Dudley sat down after that, having achieved his goal. 

####

As evening came, Dudley was finally done with the last class of the day. With Hannah and Susan, he returned to the Hufflepuff common room and grabbed the duffle bag he'd brought from home. 

"What's in the bag?" Susan asked again. 

"A gift for the bitch." He replied with a shrug and left the common room. But the two girls kept following him. "Just go and wait for me in the Great Hall. We'll eat dinner early and then meet in the Arithmancy classroom."

"Aren't you worried at all?" Hannah asked him, looking nervous. 

"Hah!" Susan laughed. "Look at his face, and remember who he is, Hannah. She can't afford to annoy him too much."

"Exactly," said Dudley, picking up his pace. He spotted the guy he’d been after. "Colin—mind if I borrow your camera? I’ll have it back to you by tomorrow."

"Big D!" Colin Creevey happily greeted him. "My camera? Sure, take it."

With that, Dudley had the camera. He slung it around his neck and walked towards Dolores Umbridge's office room inside the DADA classroom. He left the girls outside and walked in. 

Passing through the desks, he went to the end of the room and knocked on the door twice. 

"Come in," came the screeching voice. 

Hate it. 

Creak!

Dudley opened the door and regretted it already. So much pink, everywhere. And then the images of cats everywhere. 

"Hell! So much pink!" Dudley scowled and looked towards the table. Dolores was sipping some tea, and Harry was seated opposite her, writing on a piece of paper with the special quill.

Ke-Chak!

Dudley raised the camera and took a picture of Harry writing on the paper, with the wound forming on the back of his hand. Seeing how much Harry had already written, the wounded letters were far too clear. 

Ke-Chak!

He clicked another picture. 

Ke-Chak!

Then another. 

Dolores Umbridge's mistake was believing that her authority and entitlement would work on someone like Dudley. She believed that her powers derived from the Ministry would scare Dudley. Unaware that Dudley had already exceeded what the Ministry could do. 

"Mr. Dursley! Put that thing away! You clearly lack the manners to study in this prestigious school. Have your parents taught you no manners?!"

Dudley's face turned cold in that very instant. He didn't like it when someone spoke disdainfully about his family. Only he was allowed to do that. 

"Having fun alone, Harry?" Dudley put the camera away, picked up the duffle bag, and placed it on the big pink table. "Let me guess, you talked about the Dark Lord?"

Harry nodded, surprised that Dudley was there. "And you?"

"Same," Dudley smirked, sighing at the sight of the wound on Harry's hand. "She’ll probably end up in Azkaban for using a dark, cursed quill in the school."

"Silence! You are here for punishment, Mr. Dursley—not to parade your privilege. Do not delude yourself into thinking your fortune will shield you—"

Zip!

Dudley unzipped the duffle bag coldly and spread its opening like breaking apart a wooden log with bare hands. Then, he raised the bag high and squeezed its bottom against his chest so that the spread slit was aimed at her. 

"Shut your goddamn mouth, you incompetent toad!"

WOOOOOOOSH!

Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank….!

Tens, thousands, millions—Gold Galleons, shining in bright shimmer, all poured out of the duffle bag like a river and smashed straight into Dolores Umbridge's face. They rained down on her so hard that some slipped into her mouth. Overwhelmed, she fell backward with her chair, and then the coins started covering her entire body. 

The entire floor of the room was soon covered in gold coins and there was still no end to the golden rain. The clangs and tinkles were endless and loud. 

"..."

Harry, in his seat, watched it all unfold dumbly. 

___________

[A/N: Started working on a new Dudley X Narcissa NSFW artwork.]