Age-enhancing agents
As the starry sky enveloped the village, the faint scent of strawberries emanating from Queenie filled Harry's bed curtains.
They snuggled together under the covers just like the night before, the constant temperature making them feel warm and cozy without being too hot.
Harry felt guilty; he was the one who brought Queenie here, but now he had to leave her alone for two weeks...
"It's alright, isn't there Sirius?" Queenie tilted her head to look at him. "Can't you come during the day either?"
"..." Should be okay? Dumbledore only asked him to stay there, not that he had to stay for 24 hours a day.
Queenie started examining Harry's buttons again. "Tell me about your feat of flying four hours from Hogwarts to London?"
"Oh, it's nothing really..." Harry said a little embarrassedly, "It's just that I get on my broom, fly over, then get on my broom again and fly back..."
He described the eight-hour overnight trip as extremely easy.
Queenie thought for a moment and asked, "Sit straddling? Won't it hurt?" Is there something like a bicycle seat on it? How ugly.
"Hmm, the broom is under a spell."
Well, magic can do anything.
“I remember you said Hogwarts is in the Scottish Highlands, which is quite a distance.”
"It was alright, actually." Harry recalled his feelings at the time. He was only thinking about seeing Queenie, and the four hours flew by. However, the return journey seemed exceptionally long.
"You like me that much, Mr. Potter?" Queenie bent her legs, resting her chin on her knees, her golden hair cascading in lazy waves. "Let me think... I didn't even notice a man walked into the house in the middle of the night. You didn't cast some kind of spell on me that makes me fall asleep, did you?"
"No!" Harry quickly denied. He had never used any magic on Queenie, and Merlin testified that he only used it on himself. "Minors are prohibited from using magic outside of school!"
"Oh, so what did you do at my house? You just left the gift and left?"
"without……"
"What else did you do?" Queenie's interest was piqued, her honey-colored eyes gleaming like flowing syrup.
"I—um—I stared at you for quite a while..."
"Then what?"
Harry licked his lips, "And I kissed your cheek..."
"..."
"..."
"...finished?"
"Ah." What else could it be? He was so afraid of waking Queenie that he didn't dare make a sound.
"..." If she were Harry, she would at least unbutton all of his shirt first.
However, Queenie was still happy to know that she was valued. She couldn't help but imagine Harry's actions and demeanor that day—how he had been watching her? Had he been quietly crouching by the bed like a cat? Had he been gazing at her with such eager eyes?
Queenie seemed to be scalded by this illusory heat, and her heart warmed up as well. Her legs, which were hidden under the blanket, gradually straightened, and she reached up on her tiptoes to hook Harry's legs.
Harry jolted, lifting his leg to press down on her with more force. Her soft, delicate skin pressed against him, causing Harry to loosen his grip, but as soon as she sensed his relaxation, Queenie would continue to rub against his ankle.
Queenie was wearing a nightgown, and Harry, too embarrassed to reach out, crumpled the blankets and continued to hold her down with his legs. "Queenie—"
Do you remember the message I sent you that day?
What information?
Oh, he remembered.
Queenie moved her legs, and Harry immediately let go of her. She turned to the side, almost half of her body on him, and she carried his memories with her.
"Tear off your clothes and kiss you..."
She placed her hands on his waist and abdomen, using the leverage to sit up and kiss his lips. Harry, still dizzy from responding, wondered when she had unbuttoned his shirt.
"Tear off your clothes and touch you..."
Her lips left his, but this failed to rouse his senses, for her hands remained on his body, moving up his waist and abdomen, circling back to where they began, stopping just short of his abdomen.
"Tear off your clothes and..."
And what? Oh, the last option is a fill-in-the-blank question.
“You didn’t make a choice then.” But no matter which he chose, she would tear off his clothes; in fact, she had already succeeded halfway.
Harry blushed; in fact, he had secretly chosen all three.
And then he had a dream, just like now, with Queenie sitting on him, her golden hair slipping uncontrollably, the ends brushing against his bare chest...
He couldn't let Queenie know this, or she would definitely make fun of him.
"Tell me now what you want to choose?"
Harry didn't answer, but simply raised his hand to support Queenie so she wouldn't get too tired. Then he leaned in and kissed her, licking and kissing her like a cat, stirring up a continuous wetness between her teeth.
When it comes to kissing, the Savior would definitely get an O—because there's no higher level. Queenie made the first move, but in no time, she was completely sprawled on top of Harry. The thin silk nightgown separated the two restless bodies, but in reality, it did little to prevent them from getting close.
Queenie is too soft.
Lips, chest, waist, lower abdomen, arms, thighs... Oh, now he knows where to put his hands, which are now perfectly positioned behind Queenie's waist to hold her legs in place and prevent her from slipping down.
Harry wasn't an ignorant fool; he knew perfectly well that this place was somewhat dangerous.
But they are a legally married couple.
As Harry thought this, he unconsciously rubbed his fingers together, and Queenie's body miraculously became even softer, almost melting into a puddle of water.
The kiss, which was about to end, became intense again. Queenie muttered "bad guy" as she kissed him. Harry couldn't argue with that, so he could only bite and lick back, because he was the "bad guy."
The temperature-regulating magic failed, and the temperature steadily rose. Sweat or something else soaked through the nightgown, the champagne-colored fabric clinging stickily to the body, almost melting into the skin, creating a slight feeling of suffocation with each breath.
The strawberry scent emanating from Queenie was amplified by her sweat, and Harry felt as if he were eating a plump, juicy strawberry.
Queenie was so overwhelmed by the kisses that she lost all strength. Just as she was about to pull away and call for a stop, she suddenly stopped.
She leaned on his shoulder and straightened up slightly. Harry, still dazed, craned his neck to catch up. Oh, he hadn't noticed yet?
Queenie suddenly laughed, her body trembling.
Harry's eyes cleared a little. "Queenie?"
"Hmm—" Queenie mischievously nuzzled against him, "Mr. Potter, do you want to handle this yourself, or do you need my help?"
"...!"
Harry stood blankly in the bathroom, his mind filled with Queenie's image from just now. Actually... there wasn't much difference between sixteen and seventeen... he didn't think it was impossible... Why didn't Queenie want to? Just because he was still a minor?
But she clearly—not that he was narcissistic—she clearly really wanted to sleep with him before…
Harry's eyes were still moist, the bright green completely wet, turning into a deep, dark green. He looked at the plain glass bottle on the sink, remembering the question about the aging serum that still had no clear answer.
Well, if he's doing it for the knowledge... to be honest, he's quite interested in potions; he even diligently took notes during his first potions class...
A few minutes later, the adult Harry pushed open the bathroom door and came out. He was very brave to ignore Queenie's advice to take care of himself and very brave to dedicate himself to knowledge.
Queenie fell asleep.
Her nightgown, soaked with moisture, lay disheveled on the floor. She was wearing a white Harry T-shirt, which she had probably just grabbed from the closet.
Harry, “…” This makes him look silly.
But Harry still quietly went over, pulled the blanket over Queenie's bare legs, picked up her nightgown and put it in the bathroom, planning to wash it the next morning.
Taking a bath now would obviously disturb Queenie, so Harry quietly climbed into bed, opened his eyes, and began practicing Occlumency, a technique he had almost forgotten.
...
...
...
Why did he refuse Queenie's help ten minutes ago?!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
