Ambushed - NC-17
Title: Ambushed
Author: shocolate
Pairing: um…
Words: 1022
Rating: NC-17

Oh, who trusts me enough to have this dedicated to them… emmacmf… it's for you…

…don't forget you love me.


Ambushed
****
His feet hit the ground and he looked around, wildly, before ducking into an alleyway, breathing hard. Leaning against the wall, his heart racing, he gingerly felt the cut across his cheek. Fuck, that stung. Too close, too fucking close, and he hadn't signed up for this; for Death Eaters and flying curses.

He swore loudly and punched the wall; he was in big trouble, now.

Footsteps came round the corner of the building and he attempted to hide in the shadows, but a lit wand was lifted and swept across the alleyway.

"Who's there?" a woman's voice called. "Show yourself."

He lifted his hands and took a step forwards.

"Look, I… I can explain," he started.

"Harry," a relieved voice gasped. "What are you doing hiding here? What happened to you?"

"Um," he looked down at his hands. "Well, I…"

"Oh, look at your poor face," she said. "You're hurt, you'd better come inside."

His bossy rescuer turned away and he hesitated for a moment, before following; inside sounded safer than outside, at that moment, that was for sure.

The door closed behind him and he found himself in the cosy private apartments behind the Three Broomsticks, with Rosmerta lighting more lamps and getting a first aid kit down from a shelf.

"Sit down," she commanded, bringing it over to the table.

"'M fine," he muttered, sitting in a heavy oak chair. "I got away in one piece."

"Nonsense," she said, placing one hand under his chin to tip his face towards her. "This is a nasty cut; who did this to you?"

He shrugged one shoulder, petulantly, flinching as she cleaned the wound and smoothed salve on with cool and gentle fingers.

"Keep still," she said. "You're far too twitchy, Harry; you're safe here, you know that, don't you? That whole Imperius thing…"

"I just don't." He pulled away and looked nervously around the room. "'M not used to bein' manhandled."

"You're not used to being taken care of," she said sternly, wiping the blood from his face with a wet cloth.

He put his hand on hers, stilling it, their eyes meeting.

"No mother to take care of me," he said quietly.

"Oh," she breathed, stroking his face. "You poor boy."

"All alone in the world."

She nodded sadly.

"But it's not really so much a mother I need," he said. "Not anymore."

Her eyes widened and her lips parted and his eyes fell to her ample cleavage.

"Harry," she breathed. "You can't…"

"'Course I can," he said. "I'm the Chosen One, aren't I ?"

She tutted disapprovingly, but automatically leant closer, as he did, her lips brushing softly against his, before pulling away, her nose wrinkling.

"Have you been smoking?" she asked.

"Uh," he said. "Well. I've had a bad time, 'aven't I? You can't begrudge me a bit of a smoke."

She frowned and started to speak, but he interrupted.

"Maybe if I had some… other way to relieve the stress," he suggested, reaching for her and pulling her closer.

She laughed wryly and shook her head but let him, one hand carding through his messy hair as he kissed his way down her neck and buried his face between her breasts.

"We really shouldn't," she said. "I'm old enough to…"

"Teach me," he said cheekily, slipping one hand inside her blouse and stroking her breast.

"Harry," she said gently, covering his hand.

He smiled encouragingly and flexed his fingers, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple.

"Make me feel better," he said.

She sighed and reached for the laces of her gown, loosening it and freeing her breasts.

"You know we shouldn't," she chided, as he knelt before her and lowered his mouth to her nipple, sucking and tugging on it with hungry lips. "I'm not going any further than this."

"This is good," he mumbled, one hand cupping and squeezing her breast, one unbuttoning and slipping inside his jeans and shabby boxers. "This helps."

She sat back and parted her thighs and he leant between them, playing with her breasts as he stroked himself.

"Good boy," she murmured, stroking his hair. "That's right, that's good."

He sealed his mouth over one dark nipple, sucking hard as he matched the rhythm with his fingers on the other and his hand pumping desperately on his cock.

"Come for me," she whispered, tangling her hand in his dark hair and pulling his head back.

Her nipple slipped from his lips with a pop and she met bright green eyes that widened as he cried out, his fingers clutching at her breast as he climaxed.

"Merlin," he gasped, his chest heaving, his hand still clutching at her.

She smiled and let go of his hair and he sagged back on his heels, panting; her eyes fell to his groin and she watched him milking the last pearly drops from the cock that peeped out of his fist.

"You look so much like your father," she said.

He pulled a face. "I don' wanna know that," he complained, getting to his feet and zipping up.

She shook herself and stood, pulling her blouse closed. "No," she said, "I didn't mean that."

He grunted and looked at the clock above her fireplace.

"I gotta go," he said.

"Will you be alright?" she asked. "You never said what had happened…"

"Really," he said, backing towards the door, his eyes flicking back at the clock, "I'm fine, but I gotta go. Places to be. Um. Thanks. For." He gestured at her chest. "Taking me in."

She nodded as he opened the door, stepped through it and closed it behind him.

Ducking back down the alleyway, he leant against the wall, shuddering as he felt his skin start to ripple.

"Not a bloody moment too soon," he muttered, closing his eyes tightly until it was all over, before ripping off the wire rimmed glasses and putting them in his pocket.

He straightened his clothes and shook himself, before stepping out into the main street of Hogsmeade, the lamp in an upstairs window hitting his straggly ginger hair as he scurried away on bandy legs.

****
Sorry, emmacmf.

I knew there was more sex to be wrung out of The Seven Potters, and I wondered where Mundungus went.