Harry's Bucket List - Chapter 24

ALL CHARACTERS PORTRAYED WITHIN THIS STORY ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR ABOVE.

Summary: After learning the truth about the prophecy, Harry comes to a single conclusion: He is most definitely going to die. Well, if he’s going out, then Merlin be damned, he’d go out living his life to the fullest. And what better way to do that than by charming the knickers off of every girl who caught his fancy? Hogwarts isn’t ready for a Boy-Who-Lived with a death wish.

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Chapter 24: Ice Cream with the Ice Queen

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Cammi tried in vain to cease the nervous bouncing of her leg as she sat waiting for her ‘guest’. Around her, the sounds of idle conversation and occasional laughter flitted through the air of the small cafe. The normalcy of the other people living their lives around her brought a soothing comfort as she readied herself to face the unknown. The small strawberry sorbet before her helped as well. Her sweet tooth always went into overdrive when she was nervous, sue her.

The sound of tinkling bells alerted her to the cafe’s front entrance swinging open. A sharply dressed blonde girl walked in, her face impassive and her deep blue eyes flitting over the cafe in a calculating way. Those same blue eyes landed on Cammi. Cammi stared back, unblinking as the blonde studied her for a moment. For a beat, this went on unchanging, then with a raise of a single manicured brow, the blonde stranger stepped forward.

Daphne Greengrass had arrived.

“You must be Camilla,” the blonde spoke, her voice laced with a high-born accent straight from one of those old cheesy fantasy romance flicks Ness used to force her to watch.

“It's Cammi,” she replied, not bothering to offer her hand in greeting, just as the blonde hadn’t. 

“Charmed,” Daphne spoke, sitting primly in the seat opposite Cammi.

The two women stared at each other for a long moment. Cammi didn't bother to hide the fact that she was studying the other girl. She was beautiful, that was for certain. Her porcelain skin, startling blue eyes, and high cheekbones upon a soft, narrow face. Daphne reminded Cammi of those French models she’d seen in a commercial trying to sell some sort of overpriced perfume she couldn’t even pronounce. At some point, a waitress came by and took the blonde’s order–tea with four sugars and a chocolate truffle mousse. It seems Cammi wasn't the only one who had a sweet tooth.

“So–” Cammi began once Daphne’s order was delivered.

“So.”

Cammi internally sighed. Better to just rip the band-aid off then, yeah?

“You’re the one trying to marry my boyfriend,” she stated simply, holding the other woman under an inquisitive eye.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne offered no reaction to her words. Instead, the blonde calmly took a sip of her tea before shaking her head.

“My father’s doing, actually,” the blonde provided. “Though something tells me that distinction matters very little to you.”

Cammi scoffed. “That something would be right. Your dad’s a right arse–no offence–and I feel for you for having to put up with his shite, but you’re not exactly the picture of reluctance right now, are you?”

“Would it matter?” Daphne leaned forward, her blue eyes piercing in the way they perceived Cammi. “You are a muggle, so your ignorance is understandable–” the blonde held up a hand before Cammi could protest. “What I mean is, in our world, daughters from noble houses are raised from birth with the knowledge that they will one day be married off. Whether it be for political gain, a beneficial business transaction, or, in my family’s case, refuge from dangerous forces–it matters little. I do not protest the match my father has made because I knew it would come eventually. Not with who, of course, but again that mattered little.”

“So you were just–what? Resigned to the fact that your own dad was eventually going to sell you off to the highest bidder anyway?” Cammi scoffed and crossed her arms. “Jesus, and I thought I had issues. You’d really have been fine being married to whatever twat your father picked?”

Daphne rolled her eyes, another surprising mood and perhaps the most amount of emotion the other girl had shown thus far.

“Of course not. I do have standards,” The blonde sighed and set her tea down gently. “Look–I will not insult your intelligence by saying I do not consider Harry as a far preferable match than some of the denizens that have sought my hand over the years. However, I assure you that I have no ulterior motives regarding your boyfriend. In fact, I intend to delay our nuptials for as long as possible.”

That was–well, Cammi hadn't been expecting that at the very least.

“Why? Wouldn’t that make Daddy Dearest cross?” Cammi asked with a bit of bite. She couldn’t help it really. Daphne was turning out to be everything and yet nothing like she expected altogether–and for some reason, she found that frustrating.

Daphne hummed and scooped a small amount of mousse onto her spoon. Cammi traced the spoon's path, watching as the blonde gently wrapped her lips around the utensil with all the proper etiquette only a haughty, rich girl would know. She pointedly ignored the way something in her chest purred at the sight of the other girl’s pouty lips gliding across the spoon's surface with an almost sensual touch.

“It’s very possible. Though he will do nothing about it. My father, by all accounts, has what he wants. More than likely, he will see my actions as those of a nervous bride stalling for time. An annoyance, yes, but not one that requires correction.” Daphne explained.

“Then why stall in the first place? Like you said, if it’s going to happen regardless, then why waste the energy fighting a pointless fight?”

Daphne raised a brow. “Are you saying you don’t want me to delay my marriage to your boyfriend?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Cammi scoffed. “I just want to know your why. What do you get out of it?”

“For starters, I get to spend a bit more time getting to know the man I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with,” Daphne said with the slightest edge in her voice. “Of course, there’s always a chance that the need for a betrothal between our houses suddenly becomes…non-existent.”

Cammi's eyes widened as she caught on to what the blonde was saying. “You mean if Harry faces Voldemort.”

“Precisely.” Daphne nodded. “And believe it or not, I do intend for my future husband to win said confrontation.” The barest hints of a smile appeared at the corner of the blonde’s lips. It was tiny, yet Cammi couldn’t help but find it made the other girl seem far more ferocious than she seemed. Good thing Cammi wasn’t afraid of a bit of ferociousness herself then…

“Alright–” she said, leaning forward as her own smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Guess that means we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“I guess so.” Daphne replied.

“So what's the plan?”

-

The hustle and bustle of King’s Cross Station was a familiar sight for Harry. With the holidays over, many people were returning to their normal lives. Businessmen passed by, speaking rapid words into their mobiles, university students loitered around the platforms, catching up with friends and looking for any excuse to skip class, and of course, the occasional group of oddly dressed individuals with owls and kneazles in tow stepped through the magical barrier onto platform nine and three-quarters.

“Guess this is your stop then?” Cammi breathed, pulling the strap of her purse up higher onto her shoulder.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. This is it.”

His raven-haired girlfriend smiled, a tinge of sadness prickling at the corner of her eyes. “Right. Got everything then?”

Harry stifled down a laugh and nodded. “Yes mum.”

“Oi!” Cammi smacked his shoulder with a heatless glare. “Don’t be a smart-arse. We did leave in a hurry this morning.”

“And whose fault is that exactly?” he pressed with a raised brow.

Cammi had the good nature to blush and look away, no doubt recalling just whose idea it was to wake him with their mouth around his cock and spend the rest of the morning in the throes of some very heated goodbye sex.

Instead of responding, Cammi stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. Harry reciprocated the action, pulling his girlfriend close and burying his face into her hair. He inhaled her scent, wishing nothing more but to burn the smell into his memory. No–that wasn't right. What he wanted more than anything was to stay with her. To forget all about Voldemort and the damn prophecy. To forget the death sentence hanging over his head and for once just live without the weight of the world on his shoulders. Cammi had the unique ability to take all that weight away when he was with her, which made leaving feel all the more crushing when reality slammed back down upon his spine.

Voldemort, the prophecy, and the looming end were still there–and for the first time, it occurred to Harry that this might very well be the last time he saw Cammi. His heart lurched painfully at the thought, but he didn't allow that fear to show. Instead, he tightened his arms around her and held her until the clock struck five till.

Reluctantly, he pulled away. Cammi kept her arms wrapped around his neck as she peered up at him with those gorgeous onyx orbs.

“Kiss me like you’ll miss me?” she asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

Harry acquiesced, pressing his lips against hers. It was a slow and charged kiss, filled with hopes and promises that Harry did his best not to think about. Nonetheless, it was still perfect and Harry pulled away with a smile.

“I’ll write, yeah?”

“You better.” Cammi said pointedly, though the smile on her face betrayed her faux stern appearance. “I’ll see you in a few months.”

Harry nodded, not having the courage to respond in kind with his earlier realisation still ruminating in his mind. Instead, he placed one last chaste kiss against his girlfriend’s lips before pulling away. With a wave farewell, he stepped through the archway and onto platform nine and three-quarters, Cammi disappearing from his sight, as did the smile on his face.

Right–he took a breath, steeling himself lest prying eyes spot his momentary lapse. The all-aboard call stirred him on, banishing the melancholy thoughts from his mind as he rushed to get onto the train before it departed.

He didn’t see as Cammi stood there, gazing at the archway with a heartbroken expression. Nor did he spot the blonde-haired witch watching him from one of the train windows as he hurried aboard.

-

“There you are!” Hermione huffed as she slid the door to the compartment open. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Harry rolled his eyes and snapped the textbook he'd been reading closed. “Well here I am,” He huffed. “And it’s lovely to see you too, Hermione.”

Hermione frowned at his snippy tone. Sitting down beside him, she levelled him with a concerned stare.

“What’s wrong?”

Harry shook his head, muttering under his breath before turning his attention out the window.

“Are you upset about leaving Cammi? It’s okay if you are, but you’ll see her again this summer Harry–”

“You don’t know that!” he snapped, turning to face the brunette with a furious glare. “My luck isn’t exactly the greatest if you haven’t noticed! Voldemort is getting bolder by the day! Malfoy is planning something, and the headmaster is doing nothing about it! And to top it all off, I still have the fucking prophecy hanging over my head like a bloody executioner's sword! So no, Hermione, I very well might not see her again this summer! For fuck’s sake–I might not even make it to the summer!” He snapped with a humourless laugh.

He was being unfair, he knew it even as he was shouting the words. Hermione didn't deserve such vitriol, but he just couldn't help it. Harry’s emotions had been warring with him since even before the platform. He hadn't noticed at first, but as the last week played out, he couldn’t help but be drawn back to the anger, resentment, and overall resignation he felt towards his future. Why was he making all these decisions–the deal with Cyrus Greengrass, his work with Dumbledore, Cammi–if fate had already decreed he should die?

He knew why, of course. It was simply in his nature. Even with no possible way to win, Harry still yearned for the happiness that he had been denied for so very long. Some part of him still had hope he could actually make it out of this war alive, as foolish as the thought was, so he planned and prepared and made all the moves he could to ensure that at least those he loved still had the best chance they could to take down the Dark Tosser after he was gone.

He only hoped it would be enough.

As his rant ended, he finally looked to see Hermione’s face twisted in equal parts shock, hurt, and worry. It took everything he had not to sigh and begin apologising right then and there. He probably should. He would apologise eventually. But not now. He couldn't trust the swirling miasma of raw emotion in his chest not to explode out once more. Hermione didn't deserve that. So instead, he swept past her, pushing the compartment door to the side and stalking out into the hall. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed space. Somewhere to let his thoughts cool or perhaps lash out hot and angry until it was all spent. Either sounded good to him right about now.

The decision was made for him as he swept into the next cart up, intent on finding the next empty compartment and spell it shut, only to bump into a familiar short figure with pixie-cut hair.

“Gyah! Fucking hell–watch where you’re going, Potter!” Pansy screeched.

Harry glared down at the brunette witch. As much as her scowling face was about the last thing he wanted to see, especially now, her appearance also brought with it the perfect outlet for his anger.

Without a word, he snatched the scowling witch’s hand in an iron-like grip and pulled her along.

“What do you think you’re fucking doing?!” Pansy hissed, trying in vain to yank her hand free from his grasp. “Let go of me, Potter!”

Harry ignored her protests and soon came upon an empty compartment. Pushing the cursing witch inside, he quickly locked, silenced, and obscured the compartment door from any unwanted visitors.

Pansy scoffed and rubbed where he had gripped her hand. “Bloody Gryffindors! You’re all a bunch of mindless brutes! Honestly, if you wanted to meet, you could’ve at least given me some warning and perhaps with a little bit more discretion, hmm? Unless you want the whole bloody castle to know we’re working together before we even make it to Hogsmede Station!”

Harry rolled his eyes at the witch's rant.

“Parkinson?” He said, throwing his coat to the side.

“What?” she snapped, none to pleased with her tirade being interrupted.

“Shut up.”

He paid her gasp of surprise no mind as he crashed his lips against hers. Pansy froze against him, her entire body going into shock as he reached down to palm her delightfully bubbly arse. Her mind finally catching up with her, Pansy placed her palms against his chest and pushed him back, breaking the kiss but keeping her firmly in his arms with a dazed look on her face while her cheeks flushed a bright red.

“W–What do you think you’re doing?!” She gasped, her breath leaving her in small pants.

Nondeterred, Harry refocused his attention on the flesh of her porcelain white neck. The brunette sucked in a sharp breath the moment his lips made contact with her pulse point, and Harry didn't miss the small tremor that made its way up her body.

“Stop this P–Potter,” she gasped. “We c–can’t–Oh Morgana!” Her protests died away as a moan was born from her lips. Harry had found that spot on her neck, and now she was all but putty in his hands. 

Sucking hard on her flesh, Harry pulled away, satisfied to see the deep purple mark marring her perfect skin. Turning back to her lips, Harry pulled the brunette along until they both fell against the compartment seats with Pansy’s plush arse pressed firmly against his lap and her back to his chest.

His hands roamed up the brunette’s body, finding the swell of her tits before long. She moaned against his lips, her tongue soon finding itself in a fierce battle with his own as he squeezed the fleshy mounds from atop her blouse. Not satisfied with simple moans, however, Harry reached up and grabbed a fistful of the girl’s short brunette hair.

“Fuck!” Pansy grunted, hand flying to her hair where Harry held it in a firm grip. “Did no one ever teach you to be gentle with a lady?!”

Harry reached around the girl’s waist with his other hand and yanked her skirt up, revealing her knickerless mound already moistened with a thick layer of arousal.

“I think we both know you’re no lady, Parkinson,” he growled, swiping a finger up her damp slit.

Pansy grunted but said nothing, her pleasure taking precedence over her need to spout scathing comments every two seconds. Spreading her legs further apart, Harry was given ample access to her glistening womanhood. He used his fingers to tease her outer folds at first, running them up and down her slit, careful not to touch her clit as he built the anticipation. With every touch, he could tell Pansy was growing more desperate. The flush in her cheeks had completely taken over the rest of her face and neck. The sound of her grunts was slowly morphing into higher-pitched mewls. He could even feel her cunt begin to quiver with need, his fingers soon coated with a thick sheen of her arousal.

“Beg.” He said simply, halting his fingertips mere millimetres away from her clit.

“W–What?” Pansy stammered.

“I said beg. Beg me to fuck you.”

“You’re fucking nuts Potter if you think I’ll–”

Harry cut her off by pushing his middle finger knuckle deep into her core. Pansy lurched forward, a cry flying from her lips as her needy cunt instantly clamped down around the digit.

“You were saying?”
“Fuck you Potter!” She growled, mostly in an effort to silence the whine of pleasure bubbling in her throat. 

“Only if you beg Parkinson.” He smirked.

Pansy groaned as his finger began to move inside her, slowly but steadily in a coaxing motion against her walls. His thumb moved to encircle her clit, only making the brunette’s groans grow more strained as her pride and arousal fought for dominance. It was a futile fight, though. Harry knew well in advance which side would win.

“P–Please,” she murmured.

“Please what?” 

Pansy’s blush brightened, and she cast her eyes down in shame.

“Please fuck me–I–I need you inside me!”

Harry smirked and pulled his hand away from her core.

“Good girl.”

Pansy yelped as she was suddenly pushed forward onto her hands and knees atop the opposite bench. A sudden draught upon her skin was her only sign that her clothes had been magically spelled off before the feeling of Potter’s hands spreading her arsecheeks apart tore her attention back to the matter at hand.

Harry groaned as he pushed his cock into the sweltering heat of Pansy’s cunt. The brunette gasped as well, covering her mouth with her hand as her inner walls were split in twain by his meaty girth. One of Harry’s hands found its way to her throat, constricting her airway from behind as he began to pummel her dripping pussy. The hand around her neck suppressed Pansy’s moan of delight, but the gushing of her pussy was a telltale sign of just how much the brunette was enjoying the rough attention. 

Using his other hand to give the Slytherin witch’s arse a firm slap, Harry began to pound into her even harder, enjoying the way her squeaking moans sounded with his hand around her throat just as much as he was enjoying the tightness of her pussy as it trembled in ecstasy around him.

Without warning, Pansy suddenly slammed her arse back against him of her own accord and went statue still against him. Harry released his hand around her neck just in time to hear an earth-shattering screech tear its way past her lips as she came. Harry grunted as her pussy clamped down around him even harder, but he refused to relent, slamming his hips forward as her orgasm raged.

Pussy juices streamed from the brunette’s cunt, soaking the felt bench below and filling the compartment with the musky scent of sex. With her airway now unimpeded, a flurry of loud moans and curses found their way streaming from Pansy’s mouth as he fucked her from one orgasm right into the next. With each one, Harry only fucked her harder, the pent-up anger and disdain in his chest all funnelling out into a single need to fuck Pansy Parkinson into a blubbering heap. Soon, Pansy’s cries died down to near-silent levels. Only small grunts and hitching breaths left her mouth as her mind went totally blank from the pleasure being fucked into her. Even then, Harry didn’t relent, allowing his hands to smack and grope every one of her delicious curves until her bum was red and her nipples bruised. There was even a light reddish handprint around her throat but Harry doubted it would be there for very long.

He sheathed his cock inside her one final time and released. Pansy only made a small noise of satisfaction as the warm flood of his seed splashed against his inner walls. Finally, with one final pulse, Harry pulled free from her folds, allowing the river of cum to flow free from her abused cunt. Yet he wasn’t satisfied just yet.

“We’re not done Parkinson,” he said, pulling the girl up as she groaned in discomfort.

Dazed as she was, Pansy had enough presence of mind to follow his unspoken request, falling to her knees almost bonelessly as she pulled his glistening cock into her mouth. Her dark chocolate eyes, glazed over heavily with a thick layer of lust, met his own. Pansy held his gaze the entire time, bobbing her head up and down, swallowing him almost completely down to the base before pulling back to circle his engorged cock-head with her tongue–all the while her eyes remained locked with his.

In the end, Harry spilt his second load while staring deep into Pansy Parkinson’s eyes. The moody witch eagerly swallowed down every drop, audibly moaning around his cock as his cum filled her mouth.

“If this is going to become a thing–” she said later as they were resting between bouts. “Then I expect at least some sort of warning beforehand. I’ll not have us being caught because you’re too impatient.”

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled the brunette onto his lap.

“Parkinson?” He said, pressing the tip of his cock up against her cunt. “Shut up.”

Pansy’s only response was a deep, throaty moan as he entered her once more.

-

Author’s Note

It’s been a while since the last update to this work! I hope the comeback was satisfactory and be on the lookout for more soon! We’ll be finishing this fic up in about 10-12 chapters, give or take so things are going to ramp up soon!

Thanks for reading!