Work Text:
"Oops."
Harry froze. He had come to associate that word, and the breathless female voice behind it, with inconvenience, general chaos, and sometimes outright pain. He gritted his teeth and pressed his forehead against the heavy oak of the supply closet door, which had just swung shut behind him with a thud, leaving the two of them enclosed in a small space smelling strongly of parchment and ink. "Demelza," he began in a voice of forced calm, "what do you mean, oops?"
"Well—" She giggled nervously. "—remember how the self-inking quills kept walking away, and you told me to fix the locking charm on the supply closet door?"
"Let me guess," Harry said with a mirthless chuckle. "You fixed it."
"I suppose I might have accidentally cast it on the wrong side of the door. But I was flustered! That was the day that Ron kept yelling at me about the Gramling reports—"
"You mean the ones you misfiled with the postal bills?"
"Er... but I was distracted!"
Harry sighed heavily. "Demelza, you have been distracted for the past three months."
He reminded himself that he only had one week left to go. He had no idea why Demelza Robins had applied for the Ministry's floater pool nor how she had ever been hired. But that didn't matter. In one week, Su Li would return from maternity leave, normality would resume in Harry's end of the DMLE, and Demelza would be someone else's problem.
Harry probably could have put up with months of incompetence. It was a little more difficult to deal with the fact that being around his temporary secretary left him with a permanent erection. Even now he was half-hard, and it would be even worse if he turned around. She was wearing the cobalt blue robes today, which were cinched at the waist in a way that perfectly emphasized her softly curved hips and her high, round breasts....
Harry took a deep breath and reminded himself of all of the reasons why this was very wrong. One: he was her boss, at least for another week. Two: it had only been six months since Ginny left him, and he had done so well at avoiding meaningless rebound sex that it would be a shame to start now. Three: they were in a Ministry supply closet, for Merlin's sake.
"I'm so sorry, Harry." Oh no. Her voice had the tell-tale sniffling quality that preceded an outburst of tears. "Say something, please."
Harry sighed. Four: Demelza Robins was absolutely not his type. She had to be the only girl he had ever known who burst into tears at Quidditch practice. And she wore lipstick. And she giggled. And, Merlin help him, when she looked at him with those big, blue eyes and flashed that dimpled smile at him, he didn't care about the rest. All he could think about was those red lips stretched around his cock, and that mound of brunette hair tangled in his fingers, and those blue eyes glazed over with lust while she moaned for him, and he just wanted to—
"Harry?"
"Yeah," Harry snapped, attempting to pull himself together. This was ridiculous. He had work to do — not to mention the fact that six months of avoiding rebound sex had left him a very horny man, and he could only be stretched so far. "We've gotta get out of here. Now. What charm did you use, Demelza?"
There was a moment of silence, in which he could practically hear her thinking, and then: "Er."
Great. "You don't remember, do you?"
"It was one of the standard ones," she supplied unhelpfully. "But you did say it had to be strong enough to hold off an Alohomora."
"Right." Harry banged his forehead against the door a few times. Maybe someone would hear it and come to their rescue. Half of him really hoped that wouldn't happen. Half of him wanted to stay here the rest of the afternoon, doing things that no respectable man should want to do to any woman, much less his secretary.
"Anyway," Demelza said, and now her voice was very quiet, "it had to be strong enough to keep you from figuring it out right away."
Harry's back straightened, his breath catching in this throat. Slowly, he turned to look at her, and with a thrill of anticipation, found her standing a foot away from him. "And why is that?" he asked, hearing the husky edge to his own voice.
"Because," Demelza whispered, "it had to give me enough time to do this."
And with that, she curled her fingers around the back of his neck, and she stood on her tiptoes, and she pressed her lips softly against his.
Harry snapped. In less than a second, he reversed their positions, burying his fingers in her hair and his knee between her legs. He worked his lips against hers in a hungry rhythm, needing more of her mouth, more of her quiet moans. His entire abdomen was on fire with the imperative to grind against her, and Demelza was already riding his leg like she couldn't get enough, and if they didn't slow down—
"Whoa," Harry panted, breaking the kiss and curling his fingers around her biceps. "Just… wait a minute."
Demelza actually rolled her eyes at that. "You're going to give me some lame excuse about being my boss, aren't you?"
Harry fought a brief moment of irritation. It seemed to him that most women would be glad to be shown that respect. "Well, I—"
"It's a good thing I've been reassigned," she interrupted him, smirking.
Harry swallowed heavily. "You have? When?"
Her eyes went to his neck, and despite his hold on her arms, one hand rose and began plucking at the buttons on his shirt. "The floater supervisor told me this morning," she replied, working button after button as Harry stood there with his mouth slightly open. "She said she thought you could live without a secretary for one week, considering the greater need in other areas."
At the last two words, Demelza tugged at his belt, and Harry flattened his palms against the door beside her shoulders, letting her work. "Is that so?" he mumbled.
"Mm-hmm." His belt fell loosely away, and her fingers snapped the button on his trousers. "I hope you don't mind my breaking it to you this way."
Not a problem, his body insisted. "I must say, it does come as a—" He gasped as she slipped her hand inside his pants, wrapping it around his cock. "—surprise."
"A welcome surprise, I hope?"
"Oh yeah." Harry ran one fingertip down the v-neck of her robes, pausing at the dark valley of cleavage between her breasts. "God, I love these robes," he whispered.
"I know you do. And I bet you're going to love what's under them even more." And at that, she tugged at the sash holding them closed and slipped them off her shoulders, and Harry's mind went blank as he took in all of that bare, creamy skin.
Harry slid his palm over the curve of her hip and trailed his fingers over the top of her thigh, briefly catching her eye before his fingers slipped between her legs. She was already soaking wet, and she stroked him with such perfect friction, and Harry once again crushed his mouth to hers, but this time it was Demelza who pulled away.
"Harry? I've spent three months wondering what it would be like to fuck you."
He smiled against her neck. "So I should probably get on with it. Is that what you're saying?"
"Please," was her breathless answer, and Harry decided there was no sense in arguing. He picked her up, her legs wrapping tightly around him, and thrust inside her with one long, smooth motion that left them groaning in unison. He immediately began a quick rhythm, his thumb working just above where they were joined, and it wasn't long before Demelza threw back her head, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clenched her teeth and tightened around him.
It was too much, and Harry had wanted it too long. He buried his face in her neck and mindlessly pounded away, biting down on a growl when his muscles tensed and release overtook him, leaving his heart pounding in his ears and his body fighting to pump every last glorious spasm from him.
Finally their breathing returned to normal, and Harry gently lowered her to the ground, hissing as he slipped free of her tight heat. He gave her a leisurely kiss and wondered if he would really be missed if he took the rest of the afternoon off. After all, no one had come looking for him yet….
"So where are you headed next?" he muttered against her shoulder when he could finally speak again.
"Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," Demelza replied with a chuckle. "I think I'll fit in well there. Don't you?"
The End