Dessert

Marie knew immediately who the five customers were when they walked in. She had been hoping, in a romantic, but not serious way, that the wizards and witches who had saved the wizarding world from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would step into the little café where she worked. It was, after all, worldwide news that they were traveling in France.

Marie had read every single article and listened to every broadcast on the wireless about the extraordinary people and the events that had made them famous the world over. Harry Potter, whose name was already known everywhere, had fulfilled his destiny and killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named two months ago, and he couldn’t have done it without his closest friends.

Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger had been Harry’s best friends since he’d come back to the Wizarding World, and Ron’s little sister Ginny had joined them in making a foursome of great strength and power. When the final battle had erupted on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the four had fought side by side; it was only revealed later that they had combined their skills and developed a battle plan months previously. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had formed a guard around Harry, allowing the powerful young wizard to work more complicated magics without distraction. And finally, when they’d neared the knot of Death eaters surrounding He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the three friends had merged their skills to plow a wedge through the mass of evil defenders, allowing Harry the second he needed to rush forward and release his spell.

It was a spell of Harry’s own devising, and the crater it left was fifty feet wide and ten feet deep in the center. All that remained of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were…pieces. It had killed no few Death Eaters as well…and had almost killed its caster. All four of the students had been slammed to the ground by the blast, and although Ron, Hermione and Ginny had been only shaken, Harry left a furrow in the ground twenty feet long with his passing, and had lain unconscious in hospital for a week after.

When Harry finally awoke, the first thing he saw was Ginny Weasley, who had refused to leave his bedside, threatening terrible curses on those who tried to move her. And the first words Harry said after waking were “Marry me, Ginny.”

It was a shock to the world that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley had been romantically involved for over a year; they had kept the relationship secret for fear that Ginny would be placed in greater danger. The Wizarding World rejoiced not only at having its savior alive and awake, but was also rapturous over the two most famous wizard marriages in history – for Ron Weasley had proposed to Hermione Granger even as they left the battlefield.

The double wedding one month later had been one of the biggest spectacles in living memory. There was a painfully touching moment when the two couples stopped their own weddings for a tearful moment of silence for those who’d been lost in the war. (Stories of other heroism had been as widely spread as that of Harry Potter. Fellow Gyffindors Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had given their lives to save a dozen first-year students; and Draco Malfoy had been struck down after killing his own father, who’d been torturing the school’s Potions master Severus Snape with the Cruciatus Curse.)

The celebrations were still resounding throughout the world two months later, and the faces of the four friends were still being plastered across the front page of every wizards’ newspaper. So it truly would have been impossible to not recognize them.

The first in the door was Ronald Weasley…tall, with broad shoulders and a shy smile. After glancing around he held the door, and his new bride stepped through after him. Hermione Granger was of average height, with masses of bushy brown hair and warm, thoughtful eyes. Ron smiled at her, and she returned it with a flush on her cheeks.

They stepped out of the doorway, and there was no mistaking the gentleman who followed them. Who else would be wearing a hideous lime green bowler that clashed horribly with his thinning red hair?

When England’s previous Minister of Magic had been murdered a week before the final battle, the Ministry had been left in complete disarray. After everything was over a new Minister was needed; and everyone’s thoughts landed on Arthur Weasley, who’d worked in the Ministry for years, who was father of two of the heroes of the Wizarding World, who’d stood by Harry Potter and never doubted him…the choice had been an easy one. Having no idea how previous Ministers had done the job, Arthur Weasley had simply done it his way, and had won over anyone and everyone with his easy manner, thoughtful kindness, and eye to the future.

Apparently oblivious to the impropriety of the Minister of Magic holding the door for someone else, Arthur stood aside with a smile, and arm in arm with his new wife Ginny, in walked Harry Potter.

He was just a bit taller than average, and his jet-black hair was as unruly as in his pictures (even at his own wedding he hadn’t managed to tame it). He was wearing muggle clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, and they hugged his body in a way that left little to the imagination; Harry Potter had been a Seeker in Quidditch for years, and the hard training had given him a lithe, powerful body. But what truly made Marie’s breath catch in her throat was his smile. It was a grin, really, boyish and full of freedom and happiness, with joy and mischief dancing in his bright green eyes. He whispered something in Ginny’s ear as they crossed the threshold, and Ginny colored, bringing out her freckles, and slapped her husband’s chest lightly and muttered “Hush!” with an embarrassed grin of her own. Harry’s grin widened, showing his white upper teeth, and Marie sighed. This young man – practically a boy still, he was only seventeen, the same as her – had been through so much, and lost so many…it was no wonder the Wizarding World took such delight not only in what he’d accomplished, but also in seeing him finally happy.

Marie knew she would be the lucky one to serve them; she was the only waitress in the café whose English was good enough. When she took their orders, she had trouble containing her excitement; they all seemed somewhat amused that she was so tongue-tied.

As she brought them their meals, Marie caught a few bits of their conversation, which was relaxed and easy. Ginny was speaking to her father; “…sorry mum couldn’t make it, that’s all.”

“Well, your mother is still cleaning up the mess you all left,” Arthur said with a grin to show he was teasing them. “You four save the world, then create an enormous spectacle by having the audacity to get married – a double wedding, too – and then disappear from the country? Your mother’s had to start setting hexes in the garden to keep the reporters away!”

“Sorry about that, Mr. Weasley,” Harry answered, but his grin suggested he really wasn’t.

“Harry, I’ve told you to please call me Arthur,” Arthur said with a fond smile. “Or even Dad, although that will take some getting used to – as if I didn’t have enough youngsters calling me that! But it would be much better if people would just stop calling me Minister.”

“But, Mr. Weasley- erm, Arthur,” Hermione put in, her cheeks going slightly pink, “you are the Minister!”

“That doesn’t mean people have to keep saying it!” Arthur replied with a chuckle. “It’s embarrassing, when the Minister for Magic looks over his shoulder to see who they’re talking to.”

“Speaking of which, dad, shouldn’t you be doing something more…Minister-y than gallivanting around a whole different country?” Ron chortled.

“Gallivanting?” Arthur replied with mock indignation. “I had to meet the French Minister at some point, didn’t I? And that it happened to coincide with the honeymoons of my two youngest children and their spouses in a happy coincidence!”

“Coincidence my brilliant emerald eye,” Harry muttered, and everyone laughed; apparently there was a recurring joke about Harry’s eyes. Marie thought they were beautiful.

Marie saw that they were winding down their meal, and went to fetch the dessert cart. It was somewhat under-stocked, and she was about to go fill it when a voice behind her said “Bindus nox,” and she felt a tingle in the back of her throat. Marie spun around and saw Harry Potter standing there, lowering his wand. He was grinning again, but it was no longer disarming or happy; it was terrifying. Marie opened her mouth to speak, and was frozen with fear when she realized her voice had been stolen.

She brought her hands to her throat in shock, and Harry’s grin widened. “Alohamora,” he muttered, and Marie flinched, thinking he was Charming her again, but a click behind her made her half-turn, and she saw that the storeroom door had been opened. Before she could turn back, Harry’s hands were on her, and he shoved her roughly through the door, shutting it behind him.

Marie reached for her wand, but Harry laughed and said “Accio!” and caught her wand with easy grace, tossing it over his shoulder. Having no voice, Marie fought back with her fists, but she may as well have fought a hurricane; Harry was as strong as he looked, and quickly bound Marie’s hands in one of his own.

Harry shoved Marie up against a wall and conjured leather straps which pulled Marie’s arms over her head; another went around her throat, not tight enough to choke her, but enough to keep her head immobile. Harry regarded her with a slight tilt of his head for a moment as her eyes darted everywhere. Finally he leaned in so his head was by her neck, and breathed in deeply. “Mm,” he murmured in her ear, “I love the way leather and fear smell together.” He stood back so he could meet Marie’s eyes, and the grin was back. “Don’t have much time for niceties, though.”

Harry flicked his wand, and Marie’s skirt flipped up and stayed up, revealing her slightly chancy white lace panties. She stared at Harry with new dread as she finally realized what he was going to do. She began struggling in earnest, but Harry just undid his jeans, shoving them and his boxers around his ankles. When Marie saw his erect cock she was even more panicked.

Harry stepped forward and grasped one of Marie’s legs, holding it up. The leather straps bit into her wrists and she whimpered, but no sound came out. Harry shoved her panties aside and pointed his wand at her opening, and muttered “Dermilubricus.” Marie’s eyes widened as the Lubrication Spell took effect. She struggled more, but Harry ignored it; he lifted her other leg and shoved himself into her. Marie cried out silently in pain, and Harry looked at her with mild surprise and amusement. “A virgin? You certainly didn’t look it.”

Harry’s violation of Marie was brutal. He fucked her roughly, watching her sobbing face the whole time. Marie’s legs flopped loosely in the air, and her shoulders felt like they’d been pulled out of the sockets, stretched over her head the way they were. Her back was being slapped and scraped painfully against the wall, and the stabbing pain between her legs was unbearable. At one point Harry reached around and squeezed her breast, hard, and Marie winced again, certain she’d have bruises there the next day.

Harry was completely silent when he came, although his breathing quickened. Marie felt the pulsing inside her and sobbed with relief that it was almost over.

Harry pulled out of Marie and stepped away, letting her legs drop to the floor. Blood and semen ran down her legs, and she gasped silently for breath as Harry cleaned himself with a few simple charms. Finally he looked up, and Marie couldn’t believe what she saw. The pleasant young man with the charming smile and happy, carefree eyes was back, as if what he’d done hadn’t even happened. Harry waved his wand and the straps vanished from Marie’s wrists; she staggered but managed to stay upright. Harry’s teeth flashed again. “Can’t have you serving us dessert in that condition,” he said merrily, and cast a few cleaning charms on Marie; in a few seconds all evidence of what had happened was gone. Harry pointed his wand at Marie’s throat and said “Finite Incantem,” and Marie could speak again.

The first thing she said was “W-why? Why m-me?”

Harry laughed. “You? Nothing special about you. Did you think you’re the first? You’re not.”

“H-how c-could you? When p-people find out…”

“No one’ll find out,” Harry said, and the mischief danced across his features again. “What would you say? Famous Harry Potter raped an innocent young waitress? Who do you think they’ll believe? They’d lock you up just for saying it!”

“B-but-”

“Go ahead and try if you want,” Harry said dismissively, obviously enjoying himself. “No one believed the girl in Spain, either, and so she tried to attack me. She’s in their wizard hospital now. Permanently.”

Marie shivered. Tears began to fall again. “G-G-Ginny Weasley loves you!” she wailed. “H-how could you m-marry her and not l-love her…?”

Harry’s face darkened dangerously. He strode forward and closed his hand around Marie’s neck, slamming her back against the wall. “I love Ginny!” he snarled softly from a few inches away. He shook Marie, and she whined in fear. “Say it. Say I love my wife.”

“Y-y-you l-love your wife,” Marie whispered, and Harry let her go.

“Ginny’s everything to me. You? You’re nothing. I’ll walk out of this room and I’ll have forgotten by the time I sit down. I picked you because you’re insignificant enough that no one will believe you, or even care if they did. The entire world knows I’m owed whatever I want.” Harry smiled nastily at the look on her face. “Oh, and just in case…” He pointed his wand and chanted briefly, and a jolt below her navel made Marie stagger. “Don’t want any little Harry Potters running around until Ginny and I are ready.”

“H-how can you be so- so cruel?”

Harry took on a look of pained innocence that would have completely convinced Marie if it wasn’t for the pain between her legs. “Cruel? Me? Hey, I didn’t have to use a Lubrication Charm!”

“Please,” Marie begged softly as Harry went to leave. “Please, j-just Obliviate me.”

Harry smiled again; all at once the carefree savior of the world was back, happy and innocent. “What, and deny you the knowledge that you got to be fucked by the most famous wizard in the world? I don’t think so. Bring the dessert cart soon,” he said with a lopsided grin, slipping out the door. “I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

*****

“What on earth happened to you?” Ginny asked as Harry sat down again.

“Got lost,” Harry answered with a sheepish grin. “Hermione, I never believed you when you said the buildings here were laid out differently, but…I walked past the privy twice! I had to ask finally, and the girl gave me the funniest look and pointed right at the door I was standing in front of!”

Everyone laughed at Harry, who blushed. “Next time maybe you’ll believe me, then,” Hermione chastised with a smirk.

“I always believe you…when you turn out to be right,” Harry chuckled.

“Say, has anyone seen our waitress?” Arthur asked, looking around. “I’m in the mood for trifle.”

“Dad, mum will kill you!” Ginny exclaimed; she knew her father had promised her mother he would try and lose weight.

“She can’t kill the Minister of Magic,” Arthur said with a casualness that fooled no one. “At least, not while I’m in France. Ah, here she is…”

The waitress pushed the dessert cart up to their table. Surprisingly, she looked like she’d been crying, and then washed her face to try to hide it. Ginny instinctively wanted to ask her what was wrong, but stopped herself. Both Harry and Ron had teased her about being nosy, and even though it annoyed her, she had to admit they were right. She felt perfectly justified poking into her new husband’s life – she flushed with pleasure as she thought of Harry as her husband – but that was different. This was none of her business.

The waitress glanced around the table; her eyes looked slightly glassy. She swallowed visibly. “Would- would anyone care for dessert?”