The red sparks still clung to the stone of the corridor, shimmering like dying embers against the dark masonry. Draconia felt the vibration of the magic in her own teeth, a frantic, jagged resonance that refused to settle. Harry Potter stood a few feet away, looking less like a hero and more like a man who had just survived a physical assault. His breathing was uneven, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were fixed on the spot where her spell had struck the boy before him. The silence was not peaceful; it was a jagged thing that cut at the edges of her nerves.
"You are a menace," Harry Potter said, his voice raspy.
"I am a debt," Draconia snapped, stepping closer until the heat of him reached her skin. "Do not pretend you understand the cost of it."
Harry Potter did not move back as she invaded his space. He stood his ground, a solid weight in the narrow passage, his gaze tracing the line of her jaw. She reached out, her fingers curling into the stiff fabric of his collar, and yanked him toward the wall. The impact was loud, a dull thud of muscle against stone that made her heart hammer against her ribs. She wanted to shake him, to rattle the bones in his chest until he felt the weight of what she had done. The red magic still pulsed in the air, a thin, glowing haze that she had conjured to protect him, a violent grace that left her hands trembling.
"You think this is a gift?" Draconia demanded, her face inches from his. "You think because you let me do it, you are the one in control?"
"I didn't ask for it," Harry Potter replied, his hands coming up to grip her waist. "But you did it anyway. Why?"
"Because you owe me, and I decided to collect," she said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous pitch.
She felt the sudden, sharp heat of his palms through her robes. The tension between them was a physical thing, a cord pulled so tight it was liable to snap. Drac leered at him, her eyes dark with a frustration that had nowhere else to go. She shoved him harder against the stone, her knuckles white as she bunched the fabric of his shirt. Harry Potter let out a low groan, his head snapping back against the wall as she pressed her body against his. The friction of their clothes was the only sound in the corridor, a soft, sliding noise that felt deafeningly loud in the narrow space.
"You''re so angry," Harry Potter murmured, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of her hips.
"I am not angry, I am tired of being grateful," Draconia said, her breath hitching as he pressed closer.
She reached down, her fingers fumbling with the fastenings of his trousers, her movements hurried and frantic. She needed the release of the friction, the blunt reality of him. She pulled his trousers down, her hands shaking as she bared his cock to the cool, damp air of the corridor. It was already hard, a thick, pulsing vein of heat that seemed to match the tempo of her own blood. She gripped the length of his cock, her palm slick with the heat of him, and slid her hand up and down the shaft. Harry Potter gasped, his hips jerking forward as he pressed himself into her hand, his eyes closing tight.
"Is this part of the debt?" Harry Potter asked, his voice a broken sort of command.
"It is the only way to pay it," Draconia said, her voice thick.
She dropped to her knees on the cold stone, the dampness of the floor seeping through her skirts, but she did not care. She took his cock into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the broad, blunt head. The taste was salt and heat, a primal sensation that made her vision blur. She sucked hard, her throat opening to accommodate the length of him, her hand reaching up to stroke the base of his shaft while her mouth worked the tip. Harry Potter groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated in the air, his fingers tangling in her hair to pull her closer. He pushed himself into her mouth, the hard, rhythmic thrusts of his hips driving the breath from her lungs.
She stood up, her face flushed, and began to strip her own robes away with a desperate, ungraceful efficiency. She wanted him inside her, she wanted the bluntness of his body to drown out the complicated logic of her life. She pushed him back against the wall and stepped between his legs, her hands working at the lace of her knickers until they were a discarded heap on the floor. She guided his cock to her cunt, the tip of him teasing the wet, swollen lips of her opening. She felt the ache in her pelvis, a heavy, demanding throb that demanded to be filled.
"Do it," she whispered, her eyes locked on his. "Just do it."
She sat back on his thighs, sliding herself down the length of him. The sensation was overwhelming, a thick, stretching fullness that made her gasp. She felt his cock sliding deep inside her, the head of him pushing against her cervix as she seated herself fully. She moved her hips in a slow, grinding circle, her wetness coating his skin as she worked herself onto him. Harry Potter groaned again, his hands sliding down to her arse, squeezing the cheeks of her bottom to hold her in place. He began to thrust upward, a hard, rhythmic motion that sent jolts of pleasure through her entire frame.
"Fuck, Draconia," Harry Potter choked out, his face contorted with the effort of holding back.
"Don't just stand there, fuck me," she commanded, her voice a ragged edge of a plea.
She leaned forward, her chest pressing against his, her breasts rubbing against his shirt as she moved. The friction was intense, the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her cunt a blunt, rhythmic reality that eclipsed everything else. She could feel the heat of him, the way his skin was slick with sweat, the way his breath hitched every time he drove deep into her. She reached down, her fingers finding the spot where they joined, her thumb rubbing against the head of his cock as it slid through her juices. The pleasure was sharp and jagged, a heavy weight in her lower belly that grew with every thrust.
"You... you owe me," she gasped, her head tossing back as she felt a contraction in her walls.
Harry Potter didn't answer with words; he answered by grabbing her hips and driving into her with a sudden, violent speed. He lifted her slightly, her feet dangling as he hammered his cock into her, the sound of their bodies meeting a wet, slapping rhythm against the stone. She felt the world narrowing down to the point of contact, the hard, unyielding strength of him filling her. She bit her lip, her nails digging into his shoulders as the tension reached a breaking than, a peak of white-hot sensation.
"You owed me," she cried out, her voice high and strained as she felt her cunt clenching around him.
The climax hit her like a physical blow, a sudden, violent pulsing that made her muscles seize. She felt him hitting the deep, sensitive parts of her, and she was lost to the sensation of his cock driving into her, the blunt force of it making her vision go dark. She felt the warmth of his cum beginning to spill from him, a heavy, thick sensation that marked the end of the struggle.
"You owed me," she whispered one last time, her eyes fluttering shut as she collapsed against his chest, the debt finally, brutally, paid.