A Day Off

Chapter 33. A Day Off

"How much longer do I need to stay like this?" Harry inquired, perched upon a stool with his hands neatly folded in his lap.

It was the day off for him, a rare thing in his demanding line of work, and he had chosen to spend it with Susan. That's why he found himself in the Potter Manor, seated in Susan's room, serving as her model while she painted him.

She peeked out from behind the easel, her brows furrowed in concentration, a smudge of green-blue paint adorning her nose. She was dressed in a loose-fitting, white garment, its straps noodle-thin and its hem falling just past her knees. Her bright ginger hair was pulled back in a messy bun, enticingly exposing her neck.

"Five minutes," she said before disappearing behind the easel once again.

This was the seventh 'five minutes'. But all he could do was sigh and persevere with the stiff pose. It would've been annoying if he didn't love her art so much or liked seeing her focused, cute face. Not to mention, he knew the painting would turn out great, making him look ethereally beautiful. That was her style: ethereal and dreamy, something warm and cosy. It was like a fiery yellow bonfire in the middle of freezing Antarctica, with the Southern Lights shining from above.

She was just… brilliant, in that way. It had been only a couple of years since she picked up art, and already she was astonishingly skilled.

After another two 'five minutes', she was finally done. "Come here and give it a look."

He heaved a relieved sigh, getting up and rolling his aching shoulder blades. Approaching quietly, he stood behind her as she admired her handiwork.

The painting depicted him seated on a stool, his gaze directed outwards. His form was impeccable, akin to that of a noble trained in elegance and poise. However, it was the facial expression that was truly captivating, especially the eyes. They seemed to fixate on the observer with a knowing gaze, as if cognizant of their own existence as a mere figment of imagination—unreal and intangible.

The colour work was also masterfully done. His clothes were rendered in shades of grey, set against a black background. His skin, depicted in chalk-white tones, appeared almost sickeningly pale. Yet, all of this bleakness served to accentuate his eyes. Amidst the monochromatic and colourless surroundings, those emerald orbs shone brightly, mesmerising like gemstones, drawing viewers in with their stark contrast.

The painting was hauntingly beautiful, dreamy, and mesmerising, as expected.

He embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Genius as always," he murmured.

"You like it?" She smiled, her hand reaching up to caress his jaw.

"I love it." He brushed his lips on her cheek, inhaling the faint scent of acrylic paint that clung to her.

She leant back, her body moulding against his. "Thanks. Now if only I can find someone to sell all my 'genius' paintings."

He gave her waist a tender squeeze, nuzzling into her warm neck, revelling in the softness and the plumpness of her butt on his groin. Her dress was particularly thin and diaphanous, hinting at the texture of her silky underwear, which felt tantalising against his trousers.

"I want to buy all your works. Though keep the prices low. I'm not really rich enough to spend an exorbitant sum."

She laughed, shaking her head, her hair grazing the side of his face. "No. I want real customers. Maybe I should look into the muggle world too. I've heard they do art exhibitions and stuff like that."

"That can work."

"Alright, now stop being so cuddly. I have to take a shower," she said, attempting to extricate herself from his arms.

He smirked and tugged her noodle-thin straps down, resulting in her large, round breasts spilling out, the pillowy flesh jiggling invitingly. His fingers sank into them, cupping her generous mounds and kneading the soft, plushy goodness as he felt himself growing more aroused.

"Maybe I should help in bathing you?" he said, the smirk remaining on his face as he proceeded to nibble at her neck.

She rolled her eyes at his suggestion and stepped away, distancing herself from him. Turning around, she swifty adjusted her straps, pulling them up to cover her alluring chest.

"Mum is home. I don't think we can find a believable excuse for being naked in the bathroom together," she remarked, her tone laced with humour.

His smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of realisation. "Right," he muttered, his gaze flickering to the closed door, suddenly aware of the potential consequences of their impulsive actions.

He sighed heavily and plopped down on her bed.

"Don't give me that look. She'll be visiting your mum soon. We will have the house all to ourselves then," she reassured him, moving closer and leaning down to give him a quick peck on the mouth, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. With a playful grin, she sauntered away, leaving him longing for more.

Chuckling at his disappointed look, she peeled off her dress and slipped out of her frilly knickers, offering him a conciliatory glance at her nude body. Seconds later, she confidently swayed her ample backside into the bathroom and shut the door with a click.

Bored and alone, he went back to the easel, staring at the painting appreciatively.

She always made him look so stunning and heavenly in her works. While he was confident in his appearance, he wasn't delusional to think he was that handsome. It was quite flattering that she viewed him in such light, honestly.

Deciding to go check on Lena, he left Susan's room, knowing she would take her time in the shower. He preferred talking with his stepmother over waiting for Susan to come out. The sound of splashing water was certainly torturous, conjuring beguiling and suggestive images in his head.

He found her in the living room, with her gaze transfixed on the telly.

Since they didn't have any visual media of their own yet, they were still reliant on the Muggle world for entertainment. Official positions in the Ministry oversaw the subtle process of connecting their televisions to the outside world. However, rumours suggested serious talks about creating their own entertainment industry by the next decade.

Lena was sprawled out on the sofa, her head propped on one armrest while her legs hung off the other. Her flowy, ebony dress was thin and snug around her curves, leaving hardly anything to the imagination. It stuck to her body in certain areas, showing off her blessed contours and revealing her smooth legs from knee-down. It was an enticing sight, one that was sure to make his mind wander.

What was up with this mother-daughter pair and their love for these wispy dresses?

He could even make out the faint impressions of her nipples poking through the fabric of her dress. Not to mention the ridiculous neckline that exposed so much cleavage. Then again, this wasn't something new. His stepmother liked to dress loose and comfy in the privacy of her home, which he had definitely come to love.

Her eyes flickered to his, sensing his presence, and a warm smile graced her lips. "Harry," she greeted, sitting up and shifting to make space for him on the sofa. "Come, don't just stand there."

Closing the distance between the doorway and the sofa, he sank into his seat. "How have you been, Lena?"

"Nothing bad, nothing good," she replied with a mirthless smile. "So same old, I guess. How about you, 'Hero of Avalon'?"

She giggled at his pinched face, bumping her shoulder against his.

"I don't know why the Prophet has taken such an interest in me," he groaned, slumping his head against the cushioned backrest. "Just let me do my job, dammit."

Her hand came up to tousle his hair. "You're the son of a legendary figure. You'll always be in the spotlight. And you're not helping the matter with how rapidly you're going through dangerous missions and earning glory and a name for yourself. It's only been a month since you became an auror, and already you're collaborating with the ICW to capture or eliminate dangerous criminals."

"It's fun. It doesn't even feel like work most of the time," he hummed as she massaged his scalp. His joy only doubled when she pulled his head against the upper slope of her breasts, giving him a side-hug.

He suppressed a shiver when his cheek pressed against her squishy, balloony cleavage.

Her skin was so soft and warm.

The lemony scent of her hair wafted into his nostrils, sending a tingling sensation down his spine.

Oblivious to his inappropriate reaction, she busied herself with his hair, running her fingers through it and attempting to straighten his messy curls.

"I see. I suppose I was being unsupportive when you declared that you wanted to be an auror," she said apologetically. "Forgive me, I underestimated you. It seems I don't have to worry about your wellbeing after all."

"It's fine." He pressed the side of his face against her supple, malleable flesh. "I appreciate your concern for my safety, but as you can see, I'll be fine."

"Can't argue with that," she chuckled, her chest shaking gently under his cheek. "Oh, I forgot to mention. Julian got himself a girlfriend. He asked me to do the bragging for him."

Harry pulled away, mildly shocked. "The brat got a girlfriend now? Poor girl, I'll pray for her. Hope he doesn't scare her away with his gaming addiction."

"He's gotten better though. While he still carries his Game Boy everywhere, he's been putting in great performances in the school's Quidditch Cup," she said proudly.

He shot her an amused smile. "He better introduces us to his girlfriend. I don't want some gold digger ruining my little brother's life."

"Yes, we can't rule it out." She took his joke seriously. "Julian is only fifteen years old. And his girlfriend is a year older. Something just might be up."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're being paranoid. I was kidding. I'm proud that the brat somehow snagged an older girl."

She snorted, shooting him a wry look. "I don't think Julian snagged anyone. It might be the other way around. He's pretty innocent."

"Innocent? Right," he retorted sarcastically, earning himself a playful slap on the back.

"Are you implying he is not?" She raised her eyebrows.

He offered a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that you still see him as a little kid, which he is not anymore. He may as well have developed the skill to get into older girls' knickers."

"Language," she sighed, a hint of exasperation in her voice as she gently scolded him. She shook her head slightly, her expression conveying a mixture of amusement and mild disapproval. "At least I know you're not innocent."

"I'm eighteen. And believe me, I've done things that you can't even dream of. Definitely not innocent," he confessed shamelessly, almost challengingly.

"Come on, you're not giving me enough credit here. I was once young and… passionate too." She blushed, looking away.

"Horny. You can say that," he chortled, ducking under her scandalised swipe.

"Is that how you talk to your mother?" she exclaimed and covered her reddening face with her hands, mortified by his brazen remark.

He crossed his arms, his eyes gleaming slyly. "I can't imagine you being 'passionate' if you get embarrassed by a simple word."

"Well I can't act like that in front of you." She wrung her hands, protesting weakly.

"All I'm hearing is excuses." He smirked, getting a daring idea. "Let's give you a test."

"A test?" she questioned, her tone apprehensive.

In response, he suddenly grabbed her shoulders and guided her down on the sofa, ignoring her shocked 'eep'.

"Harry!" she gasped, squirming underneath his weight as her breasts jiggled and moved dangerously close to popping out.

"Consider me your lover," he whispered, his voice soft and commanding as he pinned her arms over her head, leaning back slightly so he could gaze down at her face. "How would you respond to this?"

Her breath quickened, her eyes widening in anticipation and fear. Her large, voluptuous peaks rose and fell temptingly, the fabric slowly but surely riding down to reveal more and more of the pale mounds.

"Harry." Her tone was dubious, inviting yet brimming with terror.

"Lena, you look quite ravishing today," he said coyly, exaggeratedly, as he planted his lips on her cheek, gradually inching towards the corner of her mouth, his body laying atop hers.

"Harry," she pleaded, her face flushed from embarrassment.

He chuckled and got off her, allowing her to sit back up. "You're not 'passionate', Lena. You're sweet and vanilla. No doubt it has only been exacerbated by the lack of my father's attention."

She somehow grew even redder. "Stop talking," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper, "Just stop. You'll make me faint." Her words trembled with humiliation, as she struggled to regain her composure.

He let out a pitiful sigh. "Father is either stupid or gay. Because if I were in his place," he gave her a blatant once-over, his eyes fixating on her curves, "You'd be too jaded to blush from mere 'horny'."

She groaned and turned away, her back now facing him. "Fine, fine, I confess I'm too inexperienced compared to you. Now, please stop talking like that. When I look at you again, we will forget this conversation and return to discussing Julian."

"Sure," he piped up, thoroughly entertained by her reactions.

She turned around slowly, her face still tinged with a scarlet hue. "So, Julian might've grown up and become a little more forward, that's what you're trying to say, right?"

He shrugged. "That is one possibility that you were turning a blind eye to."

"I guess we'll know who is correct when he gets home for the Christmas Holidays," she said, smiling at him, back to normal again.

"Right." He slumped further into the sofa. "What are you watching? Is that porn?"

"NO!" she exclaimed and quickly changed the channel, practically melting into a puddle of shame. "It's just a romance movie with a few passionate scenes."

"'Passionate', huh?" He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

She groaned and hid her face in her palms once again.

Snickering, he patted her back "There, there, Lena. You're a totally normal housewife who is 'passionate' and wildly adventurous in bed."

"I want to die."

"Then who will I tease if you end up six feet in the ground?"

"You're being particularly jovial today." She rubbed her face, pulling away from the reach of his arm, unable to look him in the eye.

"Well, I just found out you were 'passionate' in your younger days. It makes me happy."

"Harry!"

He couldn't help himself anymore and cracked up. Lena was so innocent, so pure. She had a body that could melt a man's mind in an instant, but her naivete drew him in even further. He imagined himself taking her whenever she asked him to, pleasing her at his whim. He could picture her round rear swaying to and fro with each thrust of his body, her shapely curves bouncing in unison. The mere mental-image of her body moving to the rhythm of his thrusts was enough to make him semi-hard.

Maybe someday he would actually get the chance.

Her lips twitched as she rolled her eyes, not minding his joke at her expense.

Susan arrived just at that moment, fresh from the shower, clad in a thin, wispy dress that barely concealed her buxom figure. Her hair was still damp, and her skin glistened with a pink glow.

"Why is Harry giggling as if someone had hexed him with the Tickling Charm?" she asked, arching her eyebrows.

"He's gone bonkers, I think," Lena said with a playful huff, folding her hands.

"Wasn't he already?" As she sat on his other side, the scent of her floral body wash enveloped him, followed by the intoxicating heat.

"Says who?" He threw his arm around her shoulders, his laughter petering out as he yanked her closer, craving her presence.

She tucked her legs under her knees and leant against him, not responding to his bait, yawning and staring at the telly, snuggling into his side.

Lena slid off the satin sofa and stood before them, pulling up her ginger hair into a scrunchie. "Take care of the house, Susan, while I go visit Lily."

"Okay." She nodded sluggishly, apparently drowsy instead of refreshed after the shower.

"And please also decide who you're going to take to the Ministry Yule Ball."

"I'll take Harry, obviously." She responded, sharing a knowing glance with him.

Lena's expression tightened with mild annoyance. "You two are not children anymore. Instead of tagging along with him, you should find a date for the ball. It's going to be an important event, from what little your dad has said to me."

"It's fine," Harry spoke up in her defence. "I'd rather take my sister than some stranger. And I don't have a date either, so it works out for both of us."

Her irritated look didn't vanish, but she offered a defeated nod. "Alright. Polish up your dancing skills at least. We don't want to make a fool of ourselves."

"Right. We'll get it done. I hope to share a very long dance with you, Lena," he said with a hint of mischief, relishing her flushed reaction.

"It will be a pleasure." With that, she walked away hurriedly, probably to change into something more substantial and escape his teasing.

Susan elbowed him in his side. "Don't ogle my mum's butt."

"She's got a nice one." He shrugged, kissing her hair and breathing in its fragrance.

"I suppose you'd like to sleep with her as well," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Obviously."

She chuckled, overestimating Lena's loyalty, thinking he wouldn't be able to do that. "You're free to try."

This was why he loved Susan. If it were someone else in her place, they'd have blown a gasket. But she had always been aware and confident of her place in his life. She knew she'd never be his girlfriend or wife, and yet she was content with this unique relationship, with this status quo. She was fine with being his 'sister with benefits' forever, and he didn't need anything more than that.

Lena strolled in minutes later, clad in a gown, this one thankfully thicker and modest. "Later, children," she smiled, then ducked into the fireplace, vanishing in green flames.

As soon as Lena vanished, he pulled Susan into his lap and kissed her passionately. She responded by gripping his shirt and returning the kiss with equal fervour, parting her lips to deepen it. Without hesitation, he stood up and grabbed her bubbly arse, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist as they snogged.

She pulled back a little when she saw where he was carrying her. "Really?"

"Surely you're not opposed to this idea?" He squeezed her voluminous cheeks, kicking open the master bedroom and taking her to the very bed where her parents should've been fucking every night.

"You have corrupted me." She shimmied out of her dress, wearing nothing underneath, showing her beautiful body in all its naked glory.

He grinned, running his palms up her meaty thighs before spreading her knees. "You're welcome."

~xXxXx~

The next morning, Harry returned to work. Unlike most people, he was happy to do so.

As the lifts opened on his floor, he stepped out, exchanging nods with fellow Aurors whose gazes ranged from reverent to envious.

Knocking on Miss Tonks' door, he slipped inside once she granted permission.

Taking his seat in front of her, Harry was surprised to find that Daphne hadn't arrived yet. Typically, he was the last one to arrive.

"Morning, Miss Tonks. Anything interesting for us today?" He settled comfortably into his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

She rolled her chair whimsically. "Not really. Neither ICW nor the Ministry has assigned us any tasks. We're free and bored, for now. Let's see if something interesting comes up or not."

"A terrible start to the day," he lamented, laying his chin on the table, watching her spin around.

He hoped she wouldn't fall off. Actually, he hoped she would. That would be hilarious.

"How was your first day off?" she asked idly, stopping the chair and blinking her eyes to reorient herself.

"Great. First, I spent time with my sister. And the rest of the day with my mother." His eyebrows twitched when she mimicked him, perching her chin on the table opposite him.

"That sounds boring. Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Nope."

"Loser," she teased, grinning. "What's the use of being the hero of Avalon if you can't get girls?"

"I don't want one." He stuck out his tongue, his maturity always getting hit when she was around him. "And what use is being the strongest auror when you can't get dicked?"

"Rude and crass," she countered, sticking out her tongue too. However, hers elongated grossly, like a chameleon's, licking him and making him jump back in surprise.

"Ew. Now that is rude." He wiped her saliva off his face, ignoring her boisterous laughter.

Before their conversation could spiral any further, Daphne made her entrance.

"Good morning, Harry. Good morning, Madam Tonks." She gracefully took her place in the chair beside him, exuding her usual beauty and elegance in her aquamarine-blue, form-fitting robes.

They returned her greeting, which was followed by an awkward silence.

"So… any interesting missions?" The blonde broke the silence when the other two simply sat there with their chins on the table.

"Forget interesting: we don't have any mission." He blew out a sigh.

Instead of joining them in their gloom, a broad smile broke over her face. "Good, then can I take another day off, please?"

Both Harry and Miss Tonks fixed her with their gazes.

"I mean, sure. But any particular reason?" The metamorph gave an indifferent nod.

Daphne's smile turned sheepish. "Today is my sister's day off. I want to spend some quality time with her since I couldn't yesterday."

…

"Alright, begone. Go hug and kiss her, or whatever sisters do. We two will try to survive this boredom." She waved her off.

Without another word, Daphne practically skipped away.

Miss Tonks scoffed. "What is wrong with you two, getting so happy being with your sisters?"

"It's fun, honestly," Harry replied, resisting the urge to add, 'because they're great in the sack'. Though he wasn't sure if Daphne and Tracey's relationship was similar to his and Susan's. He didn't really think so, but with how possessive his partner was, it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibilities. Not to mention her complete lack of interest in men, painting her as a lady lover.

"With the way you two are, I wouldn't be surprised if you bring them to the Ministry Ball."

"Actually, I'll be bringing Susan. And Daphne probably will take Tracey with her too."

It did catch her by surprise.

"I won't even ask," she muttered in disbelief.

"Anyways, what about you? Who are you bringing?"

She smiled stiffly. "None of your business, junior."

He chuckled, shooting her a haughty smirk. "Don't worry, I'll dance with you so you won't look too pathetic."

She chucked a pen at him, which he dodged effortlessly. "You should be drooling that you can dance with someone like me, hatchling. Don't make it sound as if you're doing me a favour."

"Right. My bad." His tone wasn't appreciative enough since he got another pen tossed at him.

In the afternoon, they finally received a mission, breaking the monotony. And it came directly from the Minister.

"I can't believe we have to visit every orphanage in London to search for magical children," Harry remarked as they made their way to their first orphanage.

"We don't have to finish it in a day," she reassured him. "I think it's a good idea. We can't remove muggleborns from their families, but we can offer magical orphans a better life."

He nodded. While this wasn't a thrilling mission, it was better than sitting around twiddling his thumbs. And helping children wasn't something he was averse to.

They navigated through the empty hallway, following the nun.

This was only the second orphanage he had ever visited, and this one was managed by faith too. It was a little odd, to be honest, but then again, most religions taught kindness and acceptance. Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised that those who followed such beliefs were foremost in caring for unwanted children.

Unlike the last orphanage, The Happy Days, where Tracey used to live, this one wasn't as ginormous or luxurious. The floorboards creaked under their shuffling feet, and the paint was chipped on the walls, revealing the white plaster beneath. There was a gloomy aura hanging in the very air that seemed to weigh down on his shoulders.

This was how he imagined orphanages to be.

The nun stopped beside the door and opened it for them.

Once they were inside an office-like room, she pulled it closed.

Seated behind a desk was a bald man in a habit, looking at them curiously. His warm brown eyes and the laugh lines on his face gave him a friendly demeanour. He seemed like a man who had laughed loudly and fully his entire life, a strange juxtaposition with the orphanage's atmosphere.

"Please take a seat." He smiled kindly. "I am Father Leo. And you are?"

"I'm Nancy Thomas. And this is my partner, Hank Pius." She plopped down in her seat with her usual pep, sliding the identity proofs across the desk.

They were blank, of course. But the slight twist of her wand was enough to make him see what he wanted to see.

Harry followed her lead and sat down in the other chair, smiling back at the priest.

"And what is your purpose in coming here?" he asked, steepling his fingers, his warm eyes turning steely.

"We are from the government," she confessed, leaning forward on her elbows. "And we recently realised that two particular children are here, a set of twins. Daniel and Linda. Both nine years old. Have you heard of them?"

Father Leo grunted in affirmation. "I have. And what business do you have with them?"

"They are the children of our martyred colleague. The government was supposed to take care of his children, but something went amiss, and they ended up in this… establishment. We are here to take them back."

Before he could complain, she slid another blank paper towards him. "This is the necessary paperwork."

Father Leo closed his eyes and exhaled. "Alright. There is one problem. We don't have Daniel anymore. He was taken to another branch of the orphanage since this place was getting crowded. You can take Linda, but you'll have to talk with them if you want him."

She stood up and shook his hand. "That is doable. But who took him? I need a name."

"The matron of Happy Days Orphanage. It is the best place to live for these poor children."

Harry stiffened at the familiar name, which didn't go unnoticed by Miss Tonks.

As the nun reappeared and led them through another corridor, taking them to Linda, she leant in close and asked, "What was that?"

"I know that place. My best friend used to live there."

She made a thoughtful noise. "Good. You and Daphne will go there tomorrow and retrieve Daniel while I'll visit another orphanage on the list."

"Okay."