Susan and Harry, two lonely souls, met at a pub. LEMON ONE-SHOT! There's fuck, sex, lemons! ENJOY ~

Disclaimer : Does not belong to me, Characters belong to JK Rowling. Non-Profit story

Susan Potter nee Bones
a LEMON story

The Blue Hippogriff was a smaller pub than the Leaky Cauldron, cosier and with many dark corners where one could hide whilst nursing a pint.

Susan liked coming here whenever she felt melancholy. She even had a favourite alcove where she could sit, watch the other patrons, and wonder what their own sob stories other words, the Blue Hippogriff was the ideal place in which to feel blue.

Handing the barkeep her coins, Susan thanked him and picked up her glass and the half-bottle of Fire-whiskey she'd purchased. After today's events, she intended to get good and sloshed before going back to her flat. Weaving past the other customers, she headed for her favourite table where she could drink to her sorrows in privacy. Alas, It was already occupied.

Susan paused in mid-step. She'd seen that messy black hair earlier today for the first time in six years, green eyes sparking in amusement as he'd toasted Neville and Ginny's continued health and happiness. He didn't look nearly so amused now.

She should seek another table, she knew. She had never liked being approached while in her cups, and doubted very much he'd appreciate interruption either. Yes, she'd move along. There was an empty table, in fact, just over there!

"Susan. Susan Bones, right? I saw you at the reception."

"Harry." Pasting what she hoped was a cheery smile on her face, she took a step closer. "Fancy meeting you here with the other lonely hearts."

"Yeah, well..." Harry shrugged before waving toward the empty chair beside him. "Have a seat. Seeing that we're celebrating and all."

Unable to think of a good reason to refuse, Susan sat. Harry watched as she poured a generous measure of Firewhiskey into her glass before raising it aloft."To Neville and Ginny," she said.

"May they both enjoy long life and many plump red-haired children." Harry clinked his glass against hers and drank. Grimacing as the potent liquor burned a path to her stomach, Susan set down her glass and leant forward. "Seriously, what brings the best man at Neville and Ginny's wedding to such a happy haunt? I always took you for a Leaky Cauldron sort of fellow."

"Where else to mourn the one who got away?" Harry's smile was half-hearted, reluctant. "Isn't that why you're here?" Susan blinked, surprised. "Oh no, I got over Neville ages ago," she lied after a moment. "I'm glad he found happiness with Ginny. Merlin knows he deserves it after everything else."

"Glad to know someone got a happy ending." Harry raised his glass to his lips. "So what brings you here, if not Neville? Fair's fair."

"I suppose." Susan poured another shot of Firewhiskey into her glass. He'd been honest with his reply; it was only right she should return that honesty. "I'm remembering Auntie Amelia. I always drink a toast to her memory on the anniversary of her death." Resisting the urge to look away when Harry's green gaze snapped up to hers, she downed her shot. "I toast them all, actually. Aunt Amelia, Uncle Edgar and Aunt Fiona, my cousins Ivy and Elias. I don't remember what date they died, exactly; I was too young. So I toast all of them together."

"I remember meeting your aunt," Harry said. "Good woman."

"Killed by Voldemort himself." Susan made a disgusted noise in her throat. "Like that was supposed to be some kind of honour."

"I know the feeling, believe me." Harry met her gaze, his expression one of commiseration and sympathy, but no pity. She liked that. "Voldemort killed my parents and gave me this stupid scar, and I've had to live that down ever since."

Finishing his drink, he lifted his hand to signal another, stopping when Susan laid her fingers on his wrist. She looked down, flushing slightly at her impulsiveness, but said, "My auntie said something to me a couple of weeks before she was killed. It always stayed with me, for some reason."

"What did she say?"

"Shit happens." Susan grinned at Harry, who had apparently been expecting a somewhat more substantial pearl of wisdom. "She said you could either drown in it, or climb out and start looking for the nearest shower. You don't forget it happened, but you can make damn certain you don't repeat the mistake that put you in shit in the first place." Harry leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "They still ended up dead, Susan."

"Different mistakes." Susan shrugged before downing the rest of her drink. "Sometimes you drown. It doesn't mean you have to go down without a fight. Uncle Edgar didn't, Aunt Amelia didn't, and neither did your parents. It doesn't mean you should let yourself drown, either."

Lips curving in a wry smile, Harry said, "So basically what you're saying is that I should take a shower and move on?" He wasn't talking about family casualties any more, and they both knew it.

"Basically."

"I suppose this is the part where you tell me you just happen to know where I can find that shower." Harry looked at the glass in his hand, giving it an experimental rattle before tipping it to his mouth. Susan could hear the sound of ice cracking between his teeth.

Propping her chin in her hand, Susan watched him for a moment, feeling something wild and reckless come to life within her. Before she could change her mind, she replied, "I do, as a matter of fact. Come home with me, and I'll show you." Green eyes bored into blue for what felt an eternity but in reality was only a few seconds. Harry set down his glass with a muffled thunk and unfolded himself from his chair. Extending his hand, he replied, "Lead the way."

Susan smiled and threaded her fingers through his.

Her flat was a short twenty-minute walk from the pub, located in an unremarkable middle-class part of London. The late June night was clear and warm, making the trip a comfortable one as they talked, reminiscing about other people they had known whilst at school, some of whom had attended Neville and Ginny's wedding earlier that day.

Harry, Susan already knew, was a reserve Seeker for the Chudley Cannons. He seemed surprised to learn, however, that she worked in project and development for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, creating new and improved product for the successful business, which now had locations in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and Godric's Hollow.

"I've known Fred and George for years! I had no idea they'd expanded on the production side of the business. So how?" Harry paused, obviously struggling to find a tactful way in which to ask how she'd found herself employed with his best friend's brothers' company.

"Charms ability," she explained, waving her hand. "I had the second highest Charms NEWT in our year, behind Hermione Granger. Fred and George Weasley hired me directly out of Hogwarts. It's a fun job, but it's got its risks, as you can imagine. I was very lucky to find a countercharm for something we're developing now, else my tongue might still have been bright purple for the wedding today! Ah, here we are."

A surreptitious wave of her wand unlocked the door, and she ushered Harry into her flat, following him inside.

"Nice," Harry commented, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders.

"It's not much, but it's home." Taking the jacket from Harry, she hung it up alongside her own on one of the hooks lined up beside the door. "Would you like some tea? Brandy?" She looked at him over her shoulder. "Tea with brandy, perhaps?"

"Tea with brandy would be nice." Harry sat down on the sofa while Susan went into the kitchen. "Did you need any help?" "No, this won't take long at all." Susan filled the teakettle and tapped it with her wand. It was boiling by the time she'd taken the tea canister and the brandy from the cupboard and assembled a tray. "Do you want a little splash or a large one?" she asked, pouring the tea into two china cups and reaching for the brandy.

"Large, thanks." Harry accepted the cup Susan handed him and sipped. "Perfect. You know, I'm still a bit surprised that you didn't get a job at the Ministry after leaving school. I thought you might have tried to follow in your aunt's footsteps or something."

"It crossed my mind." Susan's lips twitched in memory. "It lasted until I got my OWL results back. I only scraped an Acceptable in Potions, which pretty much put the kibosh on any dreams I might have had of becoming an Auror. I got an Outstanding in both Charms and Herbology, though, so that's where I concentrated my studies. I did receive an offer to join the Ministry, working in Developmental Charms, but the opportunity for advancement was greater at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, which is how I ended up there instead. What about you? I thought you and Ron both wanted to become Aurors."

"We did." Harry sipped again from his tea before leaning his head back against the sofa. "My downfall was Transfiguration. That had always been my toughest subject in school by far, other than Potions. Long story short; Ron was accepted for training, I wasn't; the Cannons owled less than a week later. I've always loved Quidditch and flying, so it was nice to have something I could fall back on that I knew I'd enjoy."

Susan set down her nearly untouched cup. "You always were a good Seeker," she said, pulling her braid over her shoulder and undoing the end. Unable to resist a mild gibe, she added, "Unless it was Gryffindor against Hufflepuff; that is. Lost to my House three times!

"That wasn't my fault, and you know it!" Harry grinned at her. His gaze slid to Susan's fingers as she slowly unbraided her hair, blurting, "I always wondered what you looked like with your hair down."

"Did you?" Susan glanced up from combing through the loosened strands, surprised to see the faint blush on Harry's cheeks. That sensation of recklessness took hold again, and she asked, "What else have you wondered about me?"

Harry's eyes darkened. "Do you really want to know?"

Susan reached for her teacup, taking a large swallow to ease the sudden dryness in her throat. She was doing this, she was really going to do this. Regarding him over the rim, she replied, "Actually, I think I do. And when you're done, I'll tell you what I've always wondered about you. Fair's fair, after all."

"Oh, I agree." Harry slid across the sofa, one hand stretching out to wind a lock of blonde hair around his finger. "You always looked so neat and proper in school. Neatly fastened robes even in Herbology, neatly knotted tie. Your hair was neatly contained every day in that braid. We used to wonder if that meant the rest of you were so neatly proper." He gave her hair a slight tug.

"We?" Susan tried to draw back, prevented when Harry tugged again at the lock of hair around his finger, pulling her even closer.

"You know how boys talk," Harry said dismissively. "We'd talk about girls, discuss what made them pretty or plain, debate whether or not they'd be a good shag. Sometimes we'd compare notes."

"In other words, the same sort of discussion girls had about other boys." Resting a hand against Harry's chest, she asked, "What conclusion did you reach?"

"I think Seamus said it best, back in seventh year." Winding Susan's hair more tightly around his finger, Harry replied, "He said it was the shy and proper ones who were most explosive in bed. Considering how happy Ron is with Hermione, and the way I remember how Neville blushed back then when he said it, he might have been right. So was he?"

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" Susan's hand slid down Harry's chest to the front of his trousers, smiling when he sucked in a breath. "Now that your curiosity's aroused."

Releasing his hold on Susan's hair, Harry tipped his head back as she continued stroking him through his trousers, eyes widening when she stopped without warning. Susan fell back instead against the opposite end of the sofa, sprawling comfortably with a mischievous grin at Harry's shock. "What the hell?"

"What I've always wondered about you," Susan went on conversationally, "was whether or not you were as athletic in bed as you were on the Quidditch pitch. There was something erotic about watching such grace and ability soaring above the rest of us mere mortals. You made flying look so easy."

Catching his eye, she let her palm skim down over her breasts and belly, pressing against the needy ache there for a moment before sliding further, to the apex of her thighs, and then farther, to the hem of her skirt. The feeling of recklessness, of brazen audacity, was stronger than ever. She chose not to ignore its call.

Harry watched, transfixed, as her fingers hooked beneath the skirt and glided up along her thigh once more, baring her flesh to his gaze. Licking his lips, he repeated, "Flying."

"Oh, yes." Susan shifted on the sofa, parting her thighs to his avid view, and nodded when his hand twitched toward the quite noticeable bulge tenting his trousers. "Feel free to continue where I left off, Harry. I want to see."

Harry hesitated, but only until Susan's hand went between her thighs, fingers disappearing beneath her knickers. "Fuck, Susan," he breathed, unable to tear his gaze away while he undid his trousers and took out his cock, stroking its length. "Fuck!"

Thrusting her fingers in and out of her pussy, Susan continued, "I'd lie in bed at night, thinking about you..." She brushed a thumb over her clit. "and your broomstick." Harry moaned, his hand moving faster up and down his cock. "and what it would be like to fly like that" Her voice grew breathier as her climax closed in.

"I'd dream about it, you know" Brushing against her clit again, "all sorts of flying. oh yes! yes! HARRYYY!" Susan threw her head back, her hips surging up against her hand as orgasm swept over her, barely hearing Harry's inarticulate groan as he followed moments later.

A few moments passed as their breathing steadied before Susan pulled her skirt back into place and sat up, reaching for her tea and taking a tepid sip. "Enjoy your flight?"

"I... ermm. sure!" Harry straightened as well. Pulling out his wand, he performed a simple Cleaning charm on himself and the sofa. "Sorry about that, but I have to admit, Susan, I like the way you think."

The statement elicited a startled laugh. "I don't, usually," she said, flustered into honesty. "Think like that, that is. I'm usually more proper." She couldn't begin to explain this bold new Susan that had taken possession without warning, brassy and brazen. She didn't understand it herself. "I don't know what's come over me."

"Does this mean I can still test Seamus' theory?" Harry drew back the moment the words left his mouth, staring down at his shoes and muttering, "I'm sorry, Susan. That sounded adolescent even by adolescent standards."

"Don't be." She waited until he raised his head to look at her and smiled in encouragement. "Maybe all this forthrightness is contagious. Or maybe the barkeeper at the Blue Hippogriff spiked our drinks."

Harry shook his head, chuckling. "With what?"

"Or maybe this was supposed to happen." Susan took a breath, searching for and finding the impetuousness that had made this entire evening possible. Before she could over-analyse and lose her nerve, she moved the short distance separating them on the sofa and pressed her lips to his, the tip of her tongue darting out to lick along the seam until his mouth parted slowly, almost shyly, to let her inside.

The kiss was soft, gentle; and for Susan, not nearly enough. Cupping his face in her hands, she leaned forward, deepening the kiss, feeling the slant of her mouth and the slide of her tongue against his. That ache in her belly had returned, stronger than before, as if her body had recognised that her earlier act of self-pleasure had only been an appetiser for something even better. She let one hand drift downward, skimming along Harry's throat, down his chest and belly, unable to repress a smile when her fingers closed once more around his length, feeling it stir at her touch.

Harry ended the kiss and drew back, his breathing more than a little uneven; unspoken questions danced in his green eyes. Susan ran her thumb along the hardening bulge straining against his trousers, before taking his hand in hers and leading him to her bed. It was right, she told herself; it was. She hadn't obeyed the impetuousness blazing within her this long only to stop now.

"You want this, don't you?" she whispered. "Tell me you want this; tell me you want my hands on you, my mouth on you; tell me you want to do the same to me." She drew her fingertips along his arms and across his shoulders, her head tipping to one side when he shivered. She went to his collar, undoing the first button, bending her head to lick teasingly at the exposed skin.

"Tell me, Harry. Tell me what you want."

"Or what? You'll stop?" Slender, callused fingers closed around Susan's wrists, tightening almost imperceptibly. Unable to move onto the next button, Susan looked up, seeing a reckless gleam in Harry's eyes that matched hers. "You couldn't stop now even if you wanted. You want this too much. You want me, inside you, filling you, fucking you harder than you've ever been fucked in your life. That's what you want, isn't it?" He yanked her to him, releasing one wrist long enough to sweep her hair over her shoulder and down her back before reclaiming it in his implacably gentle grip.

"Yes¦" Susan's eyes slipped shut as Harry's mouth descended, lips trailing hotly along the column of her throat. "I want what you want. Whatever that is, I want it too."

He nipped at a cord in her neck, his low chuckle sending raw vibration along her sensitised skin. "You don't want to drown in your past, either. Shit happens, right? You're looking for that metaphorical shower as much as I am."

His lips closed over hers before she could reply, his hands letting go her wrists only to crush her against him. She kissed him back, raising her arms so he could tug her blouse over her head and off. The moment the garment was cast away she wound her arms around his neck, trading feverish, frantic kisses.

The backs of Susan's legs collided with the mattress. She pulled Harry down onto the bed with her without a second thought, her hands scrabbling at the remaining buttons on his shirt, her mouth latching onto a nipple as she shoved the material from his shoulders and down his arms, helping him free of the sleeves before pushing him back against the sheets.

She was dimly aware of bra straps sliding down her own arms, of freed breasts palmed by warm, Quidditch-roughened hands. Her teeth grazed his nipple and he gasped, arching his back.

"Harder, Susan," he panted, squeezing her breast before rolling a nipple between his fingers. "Harder!"

Swirling her tongue around the tiny bud, Susan closed her mouth around the nipple and drew hard, her cheeks hollowing. The feel of Harry's hands on her breasts, squeezing, pinching, flicking at her nipples spurred her on, accompanied by his appreciative gasps. The place between her legs throbbed, heavy and aching, pulsing in time with his every sharply-inhaled breath and every whimper pulled from her own throat.

She nearly moaned at the loss when his hands left her breasts, but it was only so he could skim lightly down her ribcage and to her waist, finding and releasing the catch of her skirt, tugging the flowered material over her hips. Lacy knickers matching her bra followed soon after, and Harry's trousers joined the other discarded clothing moments later.

A gentle, yet insistent tug at Susan's hair broke her contact with Harry's nipple. She slid along the length of his body until his lips claimed hers for a slow, deep kiss, their tongues tangling languidly. He caught her cry as one hand slipped between her thighs, seeking for and finding her slick wetness.

"You do want me, don't you?" Harry murmured, fingertips grazing her clit in a lazy circular motion. "You want this." Susan cried out, the sound captured once again within the wet warmth of Harry's mouth as he slid two fingers deep into her wet pussy, thrusting leisurely, ignoring the silent plea of her hips to go faster.

Ending the kiss, he turned, straddling her body between his knees, his head between her legs and his cock bobbing against her lips. She took him into her mouth, hearing his stifled groan even as he parted her nether lips, his tongue stroking over her clit.

She licked at his cock, tongue fluting along the vein, swirling over his glans before probing delicately at his leaking slit, tasting the salty drops of his pre-cum. It was hard to concentrate on pleasing him, with the way Harry's mouth moved over her pussy, his tongue thrusting deep inside her before licking back to her clit, his lips tugging gently.

Susan shattered, her hands tightening against the backs of his legs, her cries muffled. He was fucking her, fucking her mouth with his thrusting cock, fucking her pussy with his thrusting fingers, and she was going to come again and Susan had never felt so unfettered in her life. There was only Harry's hands spreading her open, Harry's mouth hot against her secret flesh, Harry's cock against the back of her throat.

Keening wildly, she came again, her mouth sliding along Harry's cock, her hips surging against his mouth, her hand finding and fondling his balls and perineum. She heard his own cry of pleasure.

"Susan, stop," he grated. "Not ready to come just yet!"

And then he was pulling away from her, his cock slipping out from between her lips, his balls escaping her grasping fingers, his mouth leaving her sopping pussy, which still throbbed and ached, waiting for something more.

"Harry, please."

He knelt between her thighs, grinning down at her, his hair standing every which way as she'd always remembered. He looked down at Susan, at her splayed thighs, her hand at her breast, fingers twisting at a nipple. "Merlin, Susan, you're beautiful like that. So fucking hot and ready for me."

"Fuck me" she breathed, spreading her legs even more widely apart, her hips rocking in fierce wanton need for what he held so tantalisingly beyond her reach. "now! Harry!"

"Now," he agreed. He thrust into her slowly, filling her up, his eyes squeezing shut as she clenched around him. "So tight, so good," he gasped. "Oh Susan!"

"Move," Susan begged, knowing she was begging and not caring. "Fuck me, Harry, fuck me hard. I want to feel your cock"

He began to move, and Susan whimpered at the slow, sweet friction created between them. He rocked over her, that reckless gleam returning to his eyes when she snapped her hips against his, telling him wordlessly to go faster. Her legs wrapped around him, heels digging into his arse as he set the pace to their lovemaking.

"You're beautiful, Susan," he said, his breathing becoming ragged, his thrusts sinking deeper. "So damn beautiful."

She reached up, pinching his nipples between her fingers. He breathed in sharply, hands curling around her hips, his head falling back. Drawing back, he plunged into her again, harder and faster, one hand letting go long enough to slide between their straining bodies to find her centre.

"Harry!"

"Fall apart for me, Susan. I want to see you come apart for me again." Harry's hips flexed, driving him even more deeply into her, his fingers circling over her clit and she found herself spiralling upward once more. "I'll catch you." Susan surrendered to the sensations coursing through her, her cries full-throated, her hands opening and closing in an unconscious beckoning motion until she climaxed, constricting around his cock, pulsing around him, her head falling back deeper into the pillows as Harry slammed into her, again and again, drawing out her orgasm even as he closed in on his. He stiffened with a hoarse shout, jerking spasmodically as he emptied himself deep within her, groaning as she tightened along his length, squeezing him dry as he softened inside her tight heat.

Susan caught him as Harry slumped against her, pressing her lips to the fine sweat-dampened hair at his temple. He laid his head on her breast, their breathing slowing until he raised himself above Susan long enough to kiss her before rolling off of her. He didn't leave the bed, only curled behind her, tucking Susan against him so that her back was cradled to his chest. She could feel his cock nestled against her cleft, soft and defenceless now.

"I love you," Harry said drowsily, pulling her even more closely to him. "Susan."

Susan waited until the sound of his breathing told her he had fallen asleep. "And I, you" she whispered back.

Tomorrow, she knew, she'd be making breakfast for two.