To The Victor Go The Spoils - Chapter 20

Summary: An ancient law founded long before the time of Merlin awakens after Harry strikes down Voldemort. Now the oaths of all the Death Eaters transfer to him. Bound to his service, the war criminals must now hand over their fealty, wealth, and even their wives and daughters to satisfy the ancient rite.

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Chapter 20: Feud

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The ball ended without much fanfare. By the closing of the night, many of the guests had already stumbled out, well and truly drunk. The few who remained bid their farewells to Harry personally, eager to get one last moment of the Man-Who-Won’s time before they departed.

Madame Moretti was the last to say her goodbyes. It had been an extremely successful night for the woman and her foundation. The sheer number of galleons raised for the Lycan Care foundation had been enough to make even Harry’s head spin, and he was damn near the richest wizard in all of Britain. The bronze-skinned woman smiled brightly as she approached him, her hips swaying from side to side in such a way that one couldn’t help but follow them with their eyes. 

“I must thank you again, Lord Potter,” Moretti purred, her accent thick and pointed as she took his hand into her own. “Your generosity this night will ensure my foundation can continue its work for many years to come.” As she said this, the woman leaned in, her hand clutching his to her chest as her yellow eyes bore into his. “How could I ever repay you?”

Harry smiled, though he couldn’t help but allow the barest of shivers to travel down his spine as he was held under the woman’s gaze. She was a true sight to behold. Her figure alone was jaw-dropping enough to make any man’s head spin. Her darkened bronze skin only accentuated her beauty even more. Not even the long scar trailing down her cheek and neck, a gift from the Werewolf that turned her, did anything to subtract from her stunning visage. Yet beautiful as she was, Harry felt far too much like a prey animal being stalked by a hungry lioness. Or in her case, wolf.

“That won't be necessary,” Harry said, mentally steeling his fight or flight instincts that threatened to take control. Voss hadn’t even managed to throw him off this much.

Then again, Voss also hadn’t taken Harry’s hand and squeezed it between his breasts, now had he?

His words only made the woman’s smile deepen into an almost wolfish visage, aided by her sharpened canines. “Oh, I disagree. Generosity of your degree deserves to be rewarded–” her voice took on a husky tone as she leaned in, her ruby red lips inches from his own, while her eyes sparkled with her less than innocent intent. “--And I intend to reward you all night long.”

“As lovely as I’m sure that sounds to my lord, we unfortunately have other pressing matters to attend to, Madame.” Daphne’s voice cut through the charged air like a knife. 

Harry took his chance to take a step back, pulling his hand free from the woman’s bust while sending a grateful smile Daphne’s way, one the blonde did not reciprocate. Ah, still angry about the Voss thing then.

Moretti’s smile did not waver as Harry stepped back. If anything, she looked even hungrier, as if the challenge of Daphne’s presence enticed her more.

“Of course. I look forward to our future…partnership, my lord.” Moretti said with a bow of her head. 

Harry nodded back, watching as the woman sauntered off, joined by her gaggle of assistants and two bodyguards. Something told him he’d be seeing much more of the vivacious Lycan.

“Come,” Daphne spoke, breaking through his thoughts. “Hestia and Flora will handle seeing the remaining guests out.”

“Daphne–”

The blonde held up a hand, cutting him off. “Don’t. Let’s just go. I, for one, have had my fill of balls for the time being.” 

Harry sighed but gave the blonde a nod as she turned to lead them towards the private floo upstairs. One of the few to have access to his own back at Grimmauld Place.

Stepping into the green flames, Harry had only a moment to prepare himself for what he knew would come. Sure enough, as soon as he stepped out into the main sitting room, he was met with a very displeased Narcissa, with Daphne standing next to her.

“Enjoy the ball, dear?” Narcissa all but hissed with her arms crossed.

Sighing, Harry shrugged off his outer dress robes and tossed them to the side.

“What else was I supposed to do Cissy? Voss was there looking for a fight. He wasn;t going to leave without one.”

“And so you decided to give him exactly what he wanted? Did you not listen when I spoke about being cautious around the likes of Nott and his ilk? What if he brought Voss there specifically to duel you?!” Narcissa’s voice grew louder with every word until she was all but shouting with her eyes alight in anger.

“Then he’s a fool!” Harry snarled back. “Impressive Voss may be, but he is hardly what I would call a threat. I’ve faced far worse than him with much higher stakes. Nott is an idiot if he believes some deranged deullist would be enough to put me down.”

His words did little to assuage Narcissa’s fury. If anything, they seemed to make the older witch even more incensed as she threw her hands up with a scoff.

“So this is what? Some sort of bloody pissing contest? You’d risk your life just to prove to Theodore Nott of all people that you’re the biggest, baddest wizard around? Foolish!”

Harry grit his teeth as a stab of anger bubbled up in his chest. He loved Narcissa. Truly, he did. But part of him hated how she always second-guessed him when it came to any sort of big decision. It was as if she still thought of him as some clueless Gryffindor who never thought things through. It was frustrating at best, but more than that, it hurt to know she thought so little of him.

“Believe what you want to believe,” he scoffed, moving to step around the scowling blonde. “I’ve made my decision and I’m sticking with it.”

“So that’s it?” Narcissa hissed, glaring as he shouldered past her. “The lord hath spoken, and we’re to stay silent? No, we’re not done here, mister–” The former matriarch reached forward to grasp his arm, but Harry was faster. Jerking his hand away, he spun to face the blonde, green eyes blazing with barely contained power.

“ENOUGH!” he roared. A wave of power followed the spoken command. Furniture flew back, smashing into the walls. Every piece of glass, from picture frames to vases, was shattered. The very foundations of the manor itself groaned in protest as a quaking tremor shook the world below.

Daphne yelped as she was forced to duck by a flying lamp. The couch where she sat moments ago was torn to shreds by the wave of magic. Even Narcissa took a step back, suddenly far less assured in her argument than she’d been moments prior. Despite this, however, not a single piece of shrapnel nor wayward debris struck them, nor did the shaking ground cause them to lose their footing. Angry as he was, Harry didn’t wish to hurt either of them.

Taking a breath, Harry closed his eyes and allowed his magic to cool. Slowly, the tremor ceased. The remaining debris floating in the air fell with loud bangs against the floor. Neither Narcissa nor Daphne spoke as he opened his eyes, the looks on their faces slightly fearful as they stared back at him. Harry felt a pang of guilt at their fear, but he quickly shook it off. Both of them needed a reminder of just who he was.

“I have nothing to prove to anyone, much less Theodore Nott,” he began, staring icily back towards both blondes. “I do not think Voss is no threat. I know he isn’t. Just like I know that Nott wants me to duel Voss about as much as either of you do.” He took a step forward, eyeing Daphne in particular. “I asked you to trust me with Voss earlier. I told you that I know how to deal with wizards like him, and yet you still doubted me.”

“Harry–”

Harry held up his hand, cutting her off. He wasn't finished.

“You two are so quick to dismiss my plan because, what? It’s not Slytherin enough?” Harry scoffed. “Did either of you consider that maybe, just maybe, I know what I’m doing? Men like Voss are impatient and rash. More than that, he’s a loose cannon—something that Nott cannot afford right now. Voss won’t wait for Notts' blessing to act, something he proved when he confronted me the second Nott turned his back. That’s exactly why I needed to agree to the duel. The thought of fighting me will only make Voss more rash and unpredictable. Nott won’t be able to control him, if he even did to begin with, but he won’t abandon him. No, something tells me Nott needs Voss a whole hell of a lot more than Voss needs him,” he explained. “Nott’s desperate, so he’ll cling to Voss for as long as possible. I’m going to use that desperation against him.”

“How?” Narcissa asked, her anger gone and instead replaced by a hesitant curiosity.

“You let me worry about that,” Harry huffed, his anger now bubbling down into irritation. “It’s obvious I’ll have no support from either of you, no matter my reasoning, but rest assured, I’ve got a plan. That’s all you need to know for now.”

Narcissa stepped forward, reaching out for him with one hand. “My love please–”

“No,” Harry pulled away. “I don’t want to hear it. Just this once, I needed you to trust me, and yet you couldn’t even give me that. I just–” he cut himself off with a sigh and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day, and I can’t argue about this anymore.” He turned away, not sparing either woman another glance. “Tell Isabella or someone to clean this mess up. I’m going to bed.”

-

Harry sighed as he rolled over for the umpteenth time in the last hour. After a quick shower, he had climbed into bed intent on succumbing to the deepest sleep he could manage, and yet, despite his tiredness, sleep would not find him.

He knew why, of course. He knew what was missing—or more accurately—who was missing.

In the months since that fateful day in the Wizengamot chambers, Harry hadn't spent a single night alone in bed. Narcissa’s presence in his bed had become commonplace. Sure, others had joined them more often than not. Pansy loved to snuggle between them, her smaller stature easy enough to accommodate. Daphne also loved to lay between them, though the blonde was more likely to end up sprawled atop one of them throughout the night. Bellatrix, however, was a major blanket hog and was more likely to kick you in her sleep than cuddle close.

Meanwhile, Luna could usually be found snuggled against Harry’s chest or her face between Narcissa’s breasts. Astoria and Isabella were perhaps the two who spent the least amount of time sharing their bed. The former usually because she preferred her own bed down the hall, but never minded if Harry joined her there for a night every now and again. Isabella, however, refused for many reasons, ranging from ‘the sheets were not silky enough’ to Narcissa ‘breathing too loud’. Harry had a feeling it was more so because the first night Isabella had shared their bed, the Italian witch had woken the next morning with her arms wrapped around Narcissa as she snuggled against the blonde. It was the first time he’d ever seen the normally venomous witch look so embarrassed.

Yet through each of the girls’ own unique sleeping arrangements, the one constant had always been Narcissa. Despite having her own room, the Black sister had never once used it to sleep. It was more akin to that of a large closet now than a proper bedroom. She even had the bed itself moved downstairs to Bellatrix’s cell as it was larger and more comfortable than her sister’s former mattress, since she never used it anyhow. Harry’s bed was her bed after all.

Until tonight, that is.

Harry sighed and turned over once more. He didn’t kick her out or anything. In fact, since he swept from the sitting room earlier, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of either Narcissa or Daphne. He supposed that made sense. Part of him had wanted some space after their argument, and it was likely they wished for some time away from him as well.

If only it were that easy.

Just as Harry was about to give up and go downstairs for a drink, the door to his bedroom creaked open. He sat up just as it swung fully open, and a figure took a hesitant step inside. Even in the dim moonlight, he was able to spot the familiar glow of Narcissa’s hair.

“Hello,” she greeted, wringing her hands together nervously.

“Hi,” Harry replied.

Silence hung between them for a beat, both looking towards the other, waiting with baited breath.

“I–I couldn’t sleep,” she explained after another tense moment. “I wasn’t sure where to sleep, actually. Daphne offered her bed, but it didn’t feel right to sleep anywhere but–well–here.” As she spoke, Narcissa turned her head away, unwilling to meet his gaze as she stood there in her silken nightgown. 

Even in the darkness, she still looked breathtaking. Her blonde curls fell down her shoulders like golden silk, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow through the shimmering strands. It was an awe-inspiring sight, and not for the first time did Harry compare the beauty before him to some long-forgotten goddess of beauty. 

She was divine, in looks and in heart. He felt foolish for his earlier words now. After having nothing else to do in the last hour or so, Harry mulled over their argument, dissecting everything inside and out. It was with a sharp stab of guilt that he realised Narcissa hadn't said those things out of malice or a lack of trust, but out of love and worry instead. He would have probably reacted just as badly, if not worse, if their roles had been reversed.

He was still angry. Motive aside, she needed to learn to trust him. He couldn't sit back and allow her and the other girls to make every decision for him. That wasn't who Harry was.

Yet he could be angry and still love her.

With a smile, Harry pulled the covers to the side in invitation. Narcissa looked up, her face melting into one of relief before she hastily crawled into bed.

Her arms sought him out, and Harry happily obliged their request, pulling her close to him. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, her arms clinging to him like a lifeline. For a long while, Harry was content listening to the sound of her breathing–revelling in the heat of her pressed against him. For so long was nothing said that he actually began to doze off, the comfort of her presence lulling him to sleep with ease. The sound of Narcissa’s voice, soft and quiet, drew him back to consciousness before he could sink further into Morpheus’s embrace.

“I’m sorry.”

Harry fought the urge to sigh and instead pulled Narcissa closer to him. “I know.”

She lifted her head up, her grey eyes shining with a million unspoken words as they met his. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be.

Their lips met in a soft embrace. Everything unspoken was poured into the kiss. Every regret, every worry, every fear. Through the softness of Narcissa’s lips, she said it all, tenderly beseeching him for forgiveness that Harry wasn’t quite ready to give. What he could give, though, he gave fully. The love he felt for her fueled his own lips as he kissed her back. Their tongues met in the middle, the kiss deepening as their desire for one another mixed with their unspoken words. Narcissa moaned as he batted her tongue to the side, giving herself freely to him as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

Hands fisting the sides of her shift, Harry pulled the buxom blonde on top of him, his lips never leaving hers. He slipped his hands beneath the silken material, finding the radiating heat of her pale, creamy flesh beneath. Narcissa moaned once more, the sound deeper and full of yearning as he slid his hands up her thighs, where the heat of her flesh grew hotter and hotter.

“Please,” she spoke against his lips, her face flush and pupils dilated with a thick sheen of lust. “Please,” she begged again, the words coming out as a gasp as his hands found her soaking wetness. Her own hand had found his cock while the other threaded through his hair to bring their lips together. “Please,” she spoke once more, her lips pressed against his with a moan as he slipped a finger inside of her dripping heat.

Harry groaned against her lips, his cock pulsing against his hand. She was so fucking wet. Her arousal coated his hand in a thick sheen while her inner walls were positively soaked. The sheer heat of her around his fingers was enough to break what little resolve he had. He lived to hear Narcissa’s cries of pleasure. The sight of her gasping as she quivered in orgasm was the very breath in his lungs. He yearned to bring her that pleasure–to touch her, caress her, and taste her until she was shaking in the aftershocks, but not tonight.

He would give her pleasure. That could not be changed, but tonight he would not be patient. He would seek his pleasure with hers, something Narcissa wished for as well, as she continued her whispered pleas.

With a hand on the small of her back, Harry flipped them over, pressing the blonde beauty against the mattress with her legs spread wide around his waist. Narcissa didn't even blink as he ripped away the shimmering nightgown blocking his eyes from feasting on the beauty of her flesh. The acromentula silk fluttered to the ground in shreds, forgotten and unwanted.

He entered her swiftly, his eyes never leaving her shimmering grey orbs. He watched in fascination as they widened in surprise from the sudden insertion to melting into pure ecstasy as he began to rock his hips back and forth.

“Oh gods!” Narcissa whispered, her hands roaming down his chest. “Oh gods m–more!”

Harry obliged her request, gripping the underside of her thighs and pushing them up until her knees were parallel with her head. Folded in half, the buxom blonde was defenceless to his thunderous assault on her pussy. Harry grunted as he increased the pace, slamming his cock into her eager depths with loud squelching smacks. 

Every muscle from her navel down to her toes quivered from the pleasure. He could feel the trembling of her sex around him—sense the building release as her legs shook against his hold. But most of all, it was her eyes that spoke to him the most. The wide silvery grey orbs that sang with a kaleidoscope of emotions. Love, devotion, joy, relief…so many that Harry could scarcely name them all. Narcissa’s eyes beheld many secrets, but here and now, they spoke only truths as they rolled upwards while their owner screamed out in ecstasy.

“GYAH~!” 

Narcissa’s cry hardly gave her climax justice. Harry could feel as it overwhelmed every muscle and nerve in her body. The gush of her juices paled in comparison to the heat and tightness of her constricting inner walls. The velvety embrace of her depths felt molten around his cock, reforming itself to the shape of his member. Narcissa’s cries only grew louder with every second. Harry didn't allow her a moment of reprieve, his cock pistoning in and out of her dripping quim at a blinding pace. Just as her first orgasm dipped from its shattering crescendo, her pussy suddenly quaked once more from a second.

“Th-Thank you~” she murmured. Clutching his face to bring their lips together once more she whispered again, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, tha–” her words died out as her second release ran rampant throughout her body. Harry groaned, nearly releasing his load inside her right then and there from the way her inner walls trembled around him, but not yet.

Pulling free of Narcissa’s folds, he was met with a disappointed groan from the witch at the absence of his cock. Her grey eyes fluttered open, an unspoken question in them as he released her thighs.

“I want every part of you tonight,” he said, leaning down till their lips rested a hairsbreadth apart. The blonde shivered as his hands ghosted down her figure, stopping for a few moments to molest her jutting breasts before moving down between her legs. But it was not her cunt he sought, but the crinkled hold that quivered as he circled it with his thumb. “Every part.”

“Yes~” Narcissa whispered, bringing their lips together with a whimper.

Nibbling at her bottom lip, Harry pulled away and helped the blonde roll over. Flat on her stomach, Narcissa wiggled her hips excitedly, even going so far as to reach her hands back to pull her voluptuous arsecheeks apart.

Harry took only a moment to press his thumb against the tight, wrinkled hole and whisper a quick lubrication spell. Satisfied, he positioned himself quickly, the spongey tips of his cock meeting the resistance of her arsehole in a fight for dominance.

They’d done this dance before, though, many times in fact. The fight always ended as it did now, with her arsehole spreading open for his cock. 

The blonde sucked in a breath as he entered her back door. Though he’d taken pleasure from her arse many times before, it always came with some degree of pain for her. His member was too thick for it not to bring some discomfort. But where there was pain, there was also an overwhelming amount of pleasure. Narcissa moaned deeply against her pillow, burying her face further into the plush bedding as Harry finally bottomed out inside her, his balls landing against her arse with a soft ‘plap!’

He allowed her only a moment to adjust. He knew it was all she needed. Then, with a grip on her wide womanly hips, Harry pulled back. The tightness of her arsehole threatened to pull him back in. It fought him every inch until Harry gave in and slammed back down. Narcissa’s scream was muffled by the pillow, but soon it was drowned almost completely out by the sound of her arsecheeks slapping together with every thrust of his hips. 

‘PLAP PLAP PLAP!’

Prone against the bed, the blonde milf could do little but scream and shake as her arse was plundered. Harry made good use of her tight depths, sheathing his cock completely inside before pulling back till only his tip remained inside. The pool of wetness on the sheets below had grown immensely in the little time they’d been in this position. With her arse being so viciously ravaged, Narcissa’s pussy was taking up the slack, weeping with her unrestrained arousal. Her inner walls fluttered, desperately trying to flutter around something that wasn't there. 

Her arse had no such qualms. It constricted and squeezed Harry’s cock with every violent orgasm that was torn from her nerves. Gripping him like a vice that even he could not fight against any longer. As the blonde screamed with yet another climax into her pillow, Harry pulled back, his cock popping free as it shot out rope after rope of his thick white seed, leaving the blonde's back painted almost completely white.

Narcissa moaned happily as the final drop splashed against her pale flesh. Her grey eyes shining with happiness, the blonde vanished the mess on her back and turned over, pulling him against her with her arms wrapped around his neck.

Her lips found his, the kiss slow and charged with those familiar unspoken words, but there were three that she would always say.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” he replied.

Narcissa’s answer was a small gasp as he entered her once more. They may have fought, and they were still more arguments to be made, but despite this Harry knew without a doubt that the woman below him now was his, and he was hers.

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Author’s Note

Woohoo, emotional chapter! Their fight isn’t over, and Harry does have some more frustrations to get off his chest, but that will all be taken care of next chapter!

Thanks for reading!