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Harry's firm and rigid broomstick ch.2

Chapters 2, 3, and 4 are already on Patreon

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Harry was relieved that he wasn't pressed for more details. Rose had a reputation in school, even before she graduated. The boys still talked about the scandalous outfits she wore to games, and she and her group of friends caused a scene at a social event during one of the games, making them instant celebrities at school. If they found out Rose was his sister, Harry knew he wouldn't have a moment's peace.

The pain of his broken heart lingered throughout the morning practice, and Harry couldn't wait to hit something. Violence wasn't his thing, but there was something liberating about brooms, pads, balls, and competition that allowed him to tap into a primal side of himself that he otherwise wouldn't access.

Harry got into his old Camry and drove home. The car had over four hundred thousand miles on it and rattled when pushed too fast, but it still ran like a champ, with his uncle helping with repairs even in his old age. For a thousand dollars and a year's worth of mowing the old lady's yard, it was his, and that meant a lot to a kid who lived off other people's generosity.

As a real estate agent in the Muggle world, Harry's mom's job was good but tended to fluctuate with the markets. His dad was the breadwinner, and without his family treasure chest, things got tight for a few years, and Harry felt like an added burden. His mom never saw it that way, but he couldn't shake the feeling, and he promised himself that if he ever had the chance to repay her, he would.

As soon as he saw the black Mercedes AMG parked outside his suburban home, Harry knew his sister's friend, Daphne, had arrived. Parking his old Camry behind it, he chuckled at the odd pairing of the two cars, both impressive in their own way, but you wouldn't guess it looking at his rusty bucket.

"Wanna take it for a spin?" Daphne called out from the kitchen window, holding up a set of keys.

Harry shook his head and headed inside, calling out, "Too big a car for me, I'm afraid."

Daphne had been Rose's best friend since their time at Hogwarts. Harry had thought Rose only liked her because of her family's wealth, but Daphne had proven to be a loyal friend during their difficult teenage years. Tall and slim, Daphne wasn't conventionally beautiful, with her large nose and small, dark eyes, but she had a keen sense of fashion and always dressed impeccably, often mistaken for a model.

"How was practice?" Rose asked from the dining room as Harry dropped his bag in the living room.

"Straightforward," he shrugged. "This afternoon is going to be tough. Coach is taking us to Heart-attack Hill. Someone will need an ambulance before it's over."

"Sounds awful," Daphne shook her head, pouring herself a glass of champagne as Harry entered the kitchen. He had to resist doing a double-take when he saw her outfit, and she noticed his reaction, flashing him a bright smile and doing a little twirl.

"Do you like it? I got it in Milan last year. Rose thinks it's outrageous, but I loooove how it makes my legs look...What do you think?" Daphne whispered conspiratorially, not bothering to lower her voice.

Rose pushed her head into the kitchen with a frown. "Who are you whispering to? My brother?"

"Just looking for a man's opinion. Relax your tits, sis," Daphne giggled at Rose's outraged snort, turning to Harry and twirling a handful of straight blonde hair around her finger. Harry Potter was always aware of Daphne's presence, but he never paid her much attention until now. She was loud and obnoxious, showing off her wealth in a way that made him uncomfortable. Her beauty had always been something he ignored, but now he couldn't help but notice her standing there with her hand on her curvy hip, her long legs stretching out from her little linen skirt, and her bare midriff exposed by a matching top. She looked fucking sexy.

"You look good," Harry nodded, earning a sniff from his sister and a grin from Daphne. "Thanks," Rose shot him a dirty look and hooked her arm in his, trying to drag him out of the kitchen.

"I need to get my powder after practice," Harry said, pointing to the cabinet as he tried to get out of Daphne's grasp. But she wasn't listening to him anymore; instead, she was running her hands up and down his arm, clad in a sweatshirt.

"Merlin, Harry... You're as hard as a statue!" Harry blushed with pride as he pulled away from her and filled his bottle with the workout powder. He could feel Daphne and his sister's eyes on his back, and when he turned around, they were both staring at him with speculative frowns. "You're always in sweaters or loose workout clothes," Rose said with a crooked grin. Harry winced, but before he could respond, Rose continued. "Kate was the jealous type, wasn't she?"

The question caught Harry off guard, and the memory of Kate's pretty face flashed through his mind like a fucking knife. He tried to steer the conversation in a different direction, but Rose interrupted him. "Leave him alone, Daphne," Rose warned as Harry felt his cheeks flush red. "Your burrito's waiting, Harry, and can you bring the bottle in here?"

Daphne gave Harry a wink as she passed by him, grabbing the half-empty bottle of champagne. As she passed by him again, she whispered in his ear with a voice that his sister couldn't overhear. "Rose still thinks you're an innocent little boy, but I think you're a red-blooded British man...which one are you?" What the fuck was she trying to say? Harry Potter swallowed the dryness in his throat and tried to think of an answer, but his mind was blank. Daphne's eyes took on a malicious tone, and she came so close that he could smell her weak perfume.

"There are many girls who have been waiting for you to be single, Harry...but I don't want to be your understand? You can have anything..." Her dark eyes took on a warmth he had never seen before, and his heart began to race. "Anything, all you have to do is take it."

The chair in the dining room creaked, and Daphne jerked away from him, flashing a final, brazen smile. Harry was left breathless, trying to ignore the images dancing around his head of the tall, slender girl. Rose raised her eyebrows slightly as he sat at the table, but soon she was fully occupied with arranging the food.

El Sabor was their favorite taqueria in town, and Harry's mouth watered as he stared at the mound of meat, beans, cheese, and sauce. While he dug into his sister and her friend, they peppered him with questions about the team and their schedule.

"My parents think this is the year you guys go all the way," Daphne offered. "Most of the seekers this year are seniors, right?"

"Most of them," Harry said.

"Harry is a seeker, too," Rose said with a broad smile, and Daphne blinked in surprise.

"Seriously? That's insane! When's your first match? We have to be there."

"We have a main practice this weekend, but the season starts next Saturday," Harry shrugged. "We'll see if I can hold onto my position until then."

"You will," Rose assured him, laying a hand on his forearm and giving it a firm squeeze. "We'll be hanging out by the pool today. When do you have to go back?"

"In two hours," Harry sighed, checking his watch. "I'd join you, but sunburned nipples don't sound fun."

"I have a special balm," Daphne piped up. "Let me put it on you, and I promise you won't get burned."

Harry didn't believe the girls, but his sister and Daphne insisted. So after lunch, he found himself in his swim trunks. Deep down, he had always been a shy person and tried to avoid unnecessary attention. That's why he had been wearing loose sweatshirts for a few years, even in scorching heat. That's why his cheeks were particularly hot when he stepped onto the yard and heard two low whistles.

"Oh, my God, Harry," Rose sat on her lounge chair in the living room, taking off her sunglasses with her finger down as she looked him up and down. His blush warmed even more as he tried to cover himself with his towel. Fucking embarrassing. "Oh, no, he don't," Daphne snatched the fabric from Harry's fingers and muttered as he threw her a look. "Don't look at me like that, it ain't me hiding Thor's build... And for God's sake, has it ever..." she flashed his sister a smile, "Now I know why dudes stare at your knockers."

"Shut up," his sister swung at her friend, but Harry couldn't help but notice her eyes lingering on his shoulders and arms as she lay back on her chair.

"Come on," Daphne hopped out of her lounge chair, fluffing the pillow as she pulled out an expensive-looking bottle from her bag. "Lie down."

"I'm okay," Harry said, sliding onto an empty lounge.

Daphne insisted, throwing him onto the chair where he lay on her towel. Rose rolled her eyes at her friend and rolled onto her back, turning her head away from them. Harry was just getting comfortable when a squirt of cold balm hit his back, and he hissed at the surprising chill.

"Don't be a pussy," Daphne laughed and patted his back where the balm was before she started working on his muscles. "Rose said your chick dumped you?"

He lifted his head and shot his sister a sour look. She was still turned away, but he could see her shoulders tense up and muttered confirmation.

"Wasn't she part of that religious group? Those Hogwarts dudes who believe in some god despite the magic?".

"She was one of the elders," he muttered, his arms growing tense despite the girl's fingers working on his muscles with surprising skill.

"That's fucking insane, they took magical vows of purity, didn't they?" Daphne continued. "Who even does that nowadays? You're better off without someone who doesn't know how to have fun."

"Do you think he should date someone like Ginny?" Rose asked with a frown, her slightly curly blond hair falling over her face as she turned back to face her friend. "She's fucked almost every guy on all the Quidditch teams."

"Maybe not Ginny," Daphne said, leaning forward so close that Harry could feel her warmth on his back as she whispered in his ear. "We'll find someone who can appreciate all those delicious muscles."

"Daphne," Rose's voice took on a warning tone again, which only elicited giggles from her friend.

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