Stress Relief (R-18)

Rushing along the forest, Harry looked down at his ring with grit teeth. 'Fuck, what the hell's wrong with this thing?' He questioned, looking over his shoulder towards Valkyrie and the approaching Werewolf horde behind them.

They had escaped the wards surrounding Ravenstown some time ago but while Dog, Bear and Eagle had been able to activate their Portkeys safely and easily. Harry had attempted to do the same, but his Portkey had failed and Valkyrie upon seeing this had remained behind.

"Whereabouts are we going to, Dragon?" Valkyrie questioned as they continued to rush through the woods, the werewolves hot on their tails.

"A few miles from here is a safe house, we'll rest and recover there," Harry answered as he spared one glance over his shoulder. "But first we need to lose our tails. You're a Veela, right? Use your allure to distract them."

Nodding her head, Valkyrie did as she was ordered, Harry watching as after a few moments, the lead Werewolves began to show signs of distraction. Feet tripping over the ground and some coming to a stop, shaking their heads in an attempt to rid their minds of some distraction. And Harry used this opportunity presented to him to turn.

His wand was already drawn and a spell on his lips. "Fiendfyre!" He shouted and from the tip of his wand, waves of burning hot, cursed flames rushed out and engulfed the Werewolves. Howls filled the woods, quickly silenced as they were engulfed by the cursed flames and reduced to ash.

"And how is everything at your end?" Croaker asked over the communication mirror.

Looking around from his position against the wall of the cabin, Harry checked his surroundings to make sure there was nothing in sight. "Secure. But Ravenstown has been lost along with the Aurors that were there."

"I'm aware." Croaker informed him. "Eagle filled me in on everything that happened. Unfortunate as it may be to lose Ravenstown, your survival is more important at this stage. Not to mention we have finally discovered the location of the Alpha, Peter Hale." That gained Harry's attention, he rising up from where he was leaning against the wall.

"How?"

Croaker smirked. "I had one of my researchers watching from a distance." Harry shouldn't be surprised by that fact, nor should he be shocked that he wasn't provided by aid by said Unspeakable despite being able to see that his Portkey was not working. "As soon as they lost you, the Werewolves returned back to the main base, they haven't split into different groups anymore. They followed the Werewolves, and we now have their location. Your use of Fiendfyre has reduced their numbers greatly albeit at the cost of great damage to the surroundings. Quite risky of you to make such a decision without authorisation."

"I made an informed decision based on the knowledge I had at hand. I needed to put some distance between them and us, so I used the best option available to me at that time." Harry said. "Besides was it not you who named me Field Commander, decisions such as that are mine to make in the field. That's why you promoted me to that position, was it not?"

This earned a short laugh from Croaker. "Yes, it was." He nodded his head. "Stay low, for now, in a few days we'll figure out what to do in the future."

Closing off the communication mirror, Harry pocketed it and then headed inside. As soon as he did, he paused upon the sight that greeted him of Valkyrie pouring herself a glass of what he could make out to be Fire Whiskey. He honestly didn't know that they had Fire Whiskey in this place, and he also didn't expect to find operative drinking on a mission.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, moving forwards and taking the glass of Fire Whiskey off the table and away from her. Valkyrie herself flinched at his actions, shocked out of her trance-like state and reflexively reached out for the bottle only for it to be pulled further away from her. "I asked what you were doing?"

Seeing that the Fire Whiskey was out of her reach, she instead took her half-full glass and downed the rest of it in one go. Face scrunching up and coughing as it burned her throat. "What does it look like?" She shot back.

"It looks like you're getting drunk on duty."

"We're safe, are we not?" Valkyrie continued to argue, and Harry frowned in thought, picking up the distinct French accent.

'Don't tell me.' He thought to himself. "Fleur? You're Fleur Weasley, right?"

"Fleur Delacour now, my 'usband is dead, I'm a widow and a Weasley no longer," Harry said nothing in response. "And I am drinking, to forget." She had been so close to the one who killed Bill and took her unborn child from her. So very close and yet, she hadn't been able to get revenge.

Harry frowned as he listened to her words, and he looked down to the bottle in his hands and then to the glass Fleur had in her hand. Getting to his feet, he moved towards the sink and open cupboard where he assumed she had taken both the Fire Whiskey and the glass and picked one out for himself. Moving back to the table, he sat down and pulled off the lid of the Fire Whiskey, Fleur watching him pour out a glass for them both.

"To Bill." Harry rose the glass and after a moment's hesitation, Fleur picked up her own glass and clinked it against his.

The door slammed open as their tangled and drunken bodies came stumbling in. Their mouths messily meshing against each other as clothes were quickly being shed and thrown to some unknown places by grabby hands. Harry picked Fleur up as her strong legs wrapped themselves around his waist, hands gripping her ass as his lips quickly found her neck. She tilted her head back on the wall they suddenly were on, moaning at the feeling of his lips as her hands quickly went to his hair.

He groaned against her neck as Fleur rubbed her crotch against his, she moaning as well as the pleasure induced by such an action. He quickly separated them from the wall and stumbled to the bed, both collapsing onto it with them quickly locking lips once more. Both of their hands venturing down and undoing Harry's pants as quickly as possible in order to join her in her state of nakedness.

One of the hands slowly slid its way down to her dripping womanhood, an inexperienced but eager finger slipping inside and she moaned loudly at the stimulation. Returning the favour, Fleur reached down, gripping hold of his cock and slowly began to pump it.

Using her free hand, Fleur guided Harry into her entrance earning a groan from both parties. She wrapped her legs around him as he thrust inside of her. Her groans turning into moans which then turned into gasps as he worked his way inside of her. Harry on the other hand was controlling himself not to explode like a virgin. He and Ginny had certainly had sex before, only once so he was still inexperienced and all he could think about was prolonging this experience.

This feeling of her tight walls gripping his cock almost as if she was trying to milk him.

He gritted his teeth as he pumped harder and harder into her. Her legs tightly wrapped around his waist, tensing and pulling him deeper into there with each thrust as she rocked her hips in time with his. Her arms as well, tightly wrapped around his neck, bringing him deeper into her cleavage where here nipped and sucked upon her breasts, still swollen and filled with the milk she had begun to produce in the later stages of her pregnancy.

So far gone in his lust, Harry didn't stop, even when she began to lactate, too focused on fucking the Veela who happily reciprocated his actions. Her moans in turn rising in volume at the sensation of her breasts being milked.

But as his end began to approach, one of Harry's hands grabbed at the headboard as it banged against the wall, an attempt to stave off his coming end. And as he felt her tighten around him, a long-drawn-out moan escaping her lips as and shivered in pleasure, slumping ever so slightly, he knew she had cum. He in turn let himself go, stopping his attempts at delaying his end any further and released his load into her.

And as he kneeled there over her, both breathing heavily, Harry picked up a drunken murmur from the Veela. One that shocked him awake from the drunken fog clouding his mind. It was but a single murmur, a name, but it was like being dumped in cold water, freezing him to his core. Guilt gripping him at his very core.

"Bill."