Expelled (Harry Potter)

By Cambrian

Submitted: April 10, 2020

Updated: April 10, 2020

Commission

Themes: Rough Sex, Fucked Silly, Dom/Sub

Summary: In between Fourth and Fifth Year, Harry's trial before the Wizengamot does not go as well as
it does in canon. With his wand snapped, he's expelled from Hogwarts... but the Wizarding World is a big
place. And Harry has friends in foreign locales...

Please Check Out My Patreon!

Provided by Hentai Foundry.

http://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/Cambrian/41651/Expelled-Harry-Potter

Chapter 1 - Harry/Hermione/Fleur 2
Chapter 2 - Harry/Narcissa/Apolline 10
Chapter 3 - Harry/Andromeda/Bellatrix 18
Chapter 4 - Harry/Amelia Bones/Nymphadora 27
Chapter 5 - Harry/Daphne/Slytherin Girls 37
Chapter 6 - Harry/Emma Granger/Hermione 45
 1 - Harry/Hermione/Fleur

Hermione was nervous to say the least. But she was also excited. How could she not be? This was the
first time in several weeks that she was getting to visit Harry. Though, part of her wondered why he was
at the Delacour Manor, rather than at Beauxbatons where he was supposed to be. As she makes her
way up the front steps of the massive grounds that the Delacour Family could lay claim to, Hermione
finds herself biting her lower lip, her mind drifting back to the events of a few weeks ago.

… Harry had been expelled by ruling of the Wizengamot. It was awful, and wholly unfair. Hermione
hadn’t even been allowed in the court room, but she’d been at Grimmauld Place when the defeated
Boy-Who-Lived and Dumbledore had arrived. The sentence of expulsion had been carried out
immediately, leaving Harry wandless, his gorgeous phoenix hair wand snapped. If anything, Dumbledore
almost sounded more upset about that when he explained what happened, then he did about Harry’s
expulsion.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Hermione knew for a fact that Harry was telling the truth. He’d cast
that Patronus Charm to save his and his cousin’s life. Unfortunately, the Wizengamot had been less
willing to believe him, it seemed. The Dementors were supposed to be fully under Ministry control after
all, so why would two of them be on Privet Drive in the village of Little Whinging all the way down in
Surrey of all places?

Hermione felt that it stunk of a government coverup, especially after the Ministry had immediately
decried Harry for declaring that Voldemort was back at the end of the Triwizard Tournament last school
year. It was unconscionable, really, but there was nothing any of them could do about it… apparently.
Frankly, Hermione had a hard time believing Dumbledore was as powerless to help the situation as he
said, but she couldn’t very well go ahead and call out the aging wizard, now could she?

Instead, talk had turned to what Harry would do next. Dumbledore had been the only one to suggest that
Harry would have to return to the Dursleys, and also the only one who seemed particularly surprised
when the young man had vehemently shot down the idea. Harry’s language had been rather crass as
he’d told Dumbledore that under ‘no fucking circumstances’ was he ever going back to the Dursleys,
but understandably so in Hermione’s opinion. Everything she’d heard about those people made her
stomach turn.

Ron had been the next to speak up, the red head seeming excited as he suggested that Harry become a
Quidditch Superstar. You didn’t need a Hogwarts education OR a wand to fly on a broom after all, and
Harry WAS a prodigious talent on a broomstick. But having seen the brutality of the Quidditch World Cup
they’d been to the year before, Hermione had been the one to shoot that one down, rightfully pointing
out that at Harry’s age, he’d be slaughtered on that sort of professional field.

No, while Quidditch Superstar still might be in his future, Hermione knew that they had to find something
in the more immediate for him. That was why she’d suggested that he go and work for her parents,
bringing up the fact that her mom was in need of a new assistant to help her at the dentistry that the
Grangers both ran.
Ron had shot that down, and in such a way that he and Hermione still hadn’t spoken since, all these
weeks later. That… that dullard had gone so far as to insult Hermione’s mother, declaring that they all
knew what muggle ladies were really like and that Hermione’s mom would seduce Harry within days…
like the scarlet woman she was.

Before Hermione could explode on Ron, though she HAD exploded on him just a few days after that,
Fleur Delacour had intervened, the French witch and part veela speaking up from her seat at the table.
As it so happened, or so the French witch had explained in that exotic accent of hers, she owed ‘Arry’ a
life debt, and so did Gabrielle, for how he’d saved their lives during the Second Task back during the
school year.

It was obvious what Fleur was doing immediately, and for a split second Hermione had actually been
ready to side with Ron despite what he’d just said as he and the other Weasleys had begun to complain
quite loudly. Obviously, Fleur was trying to snatch Harry away, seeing an opportunity to do the patriotic
thing for her magical community by bringing him over to France now that Wizarding Britain had
effectively tossed him aside.

Hermione didn’t want to lose Harry, but once again before she could raise her objection and throw her
voice in alongside the Weasleys, Harry had spoken up… and said that he wanted what Fleur was offering
him, that he agreed to study in France instead. Surprisingly, Dumbledore hadn’t been too upset about
this… or rather, it was surprising until one remembered that the aged wizard was also the Supreme
Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, of which France was part.

In the end, it didn’t really matter what country Harry resided in, or whether he went to Hogwarts of
Beauxbatons. Dumbledore would have his access to the Boy-Who-Lived either way. Hermione wouldn’t
though, and that’d upset her quite a bit… but she’d also bit her tongue, not speaking up along the loudly
complaining Weasley family, because she could tell that Harry’s mind was made up… and she could
also tell he was seeing the Weasleys in a new light for the first time.

She hadn’t wanted to be lumped in with them, and luckily by staying quiet, she’d managed to avoid
that. Truth be told, Hermione had found herself lost in thought a little bit at the time, wondering what sort
of foreign magics the French Magical Community had and if she too could learn some of them like Harry
was now.

However, fast forward a few weeks, and when Hermione’s request to be allowed to visit Harry had
finally been approved, she found that he was not at Beauxbatons as she’d thought he would be but was
instead apparently staying at the Delacour Manor. Now here she was, being led through the massive
sprawling complex of rooms and ornate hallways by one of the Delacour family’s servants, an actual
human being rather than a house elf. That alone was a point in their favor in Hermione’s humble
opinion, but she was still a little confused… and things didn’t exactly clear up when she was led into the
back, to where the Delacours had their pool area.

There Harry was, but he wasn’t… he was almost indecent! The skimpy pool boy outfit her best friend
was currently in couldn’t even really be called a pair of swim trunks! They were a pair of tight shorts
instead, and they definitely didn’t leave much to the imagination! As for the rest of Harry, he was
actually looking surprisingly fine, like the last few weeks had given him a runner’s body, all lean
muscle… or perhaps more accurately, a swimmer’s body?

Hermione flushes, watching from the sidelines, still unnoticed by Harry… as well as Fleur and what can
only be Fleur’s mother, Apolline Delacour. The half-veela is absolutely stunning, a total MILF, and for a
single moment Hermione finds herself thinking that if Ron was afraid of what HER mother would do to
Harry, he’d have an absolute conniption fit if he met Apolline Delacour.

Regardless, Harry walks over to Fleur and Apolline, and Hermione bites her lower lip as she realizes the
both of them are completely naked. She hadn’t noticed at first, because they’re both on their fronts,
sunbathing quite obviously. Still, their gorgeous derrieres are on full display, even as Harry takes a bottle
of oil and begins to massage Fleur.

S-Still, that wasn’t too bad, right? It wasn’t… it wasn’t like they were doing anything TRULY
inappropriate. Maybe she was just being insensitive of French culture… or even veela culture. It was
obvious that things a virgin like Hermione considered taboo and a stretch too far were not seen as that
perverted here in France. And Harry… Harry had probably been a little surprised at first, but he’d been
here for weeks now, so he’d probably just gone with the flow.

Yeah, that all made sense… and then, once again blowing Hermione’s mind and her newest hastily
constructed world view, Fleur outright turns onto her back, exposing the entirety of her gorgeous, naked
front to Harry as he leans forward and begins to suck on her big fat titties without hesitation, sticking his
fingers in both her cunt and ass, as if he’s supposed to massage her insides as well.

Hermione sputters, shocked and frozen solid at the sight in front of her for a long moment, even as Fleur
moans and writhes beneath Harry’s touch. It clearly feels very good for the part veela, and Harry seems
to really be into it, going all out on Fleur and giving the French Witch exactly what she wants and then
some.

Only when Harry finally pulls away from Fleur’s tits and moves down to betwixt her legs, leaning over to
begin eating her out, does Hermione finally find the will to react. Striding forward out of the shade of the
patio, Hermione’s voice is more than a little high-pitched and shrill as she cries out.

“W-What the hell is going on?! Is this why you really wanted Harry to come to France, so he could
b-become some sort of b-boy toy?!”

Harry, Fleur, and Apolline all look up at Hermione, differing reactions on their faces. Harry is abjectly
surprised, and it’s obvious that he didn’t know Hermione was even coming. Fleur has a self-satisfied
grin on her face, and grabs Harry by his hair, drawing him down to her cunt so he can begin licking and
lapping away at her pussy, which he does quite willingly. Apolline, meanwhile, looks affronted as she sits
up and sidles over to Harry and Fleur.

“Do not be ridiculous, Miss Granger. He is no boy!”

Yanking down Harry’s shorts, Apolline reveals his member to Hermione, causing the young witch to
goggle as the older MILF begins to stimulate his cock and balls, first with her hands and then with her
mouth.
“He is all man. Mmmm~”

As she sucks him off, Harry is using his serpent-like tongue on Fleur, having learned that speaking in
Parseltongue causes a witch to go utterly crazy all over his parselmouth. Hermione just… stares at the
sight of Harry’s large, thick cock. And… and he’s only fifteen too. He’ll keep growing, oh how he’ll keep
growing. As if reading her mind, Apolline pops her pouty lips off of Harry’s cockhead and smirks at
Hermione, licking her lips provocatively.

“Imagine what this gorgeous cock will be like once he is a man. In a few years’ time, he will be
Gabrielle’s first… of course, he will have to be trained for that… to be the perfect French Gentleman.”

Indignation wells up inside of Hermione at that, and she hurries forward again, coming closer to the
scene of unbridled debauchery.

“Harry isn’t even French! And I thought you were going to be teaching him magic! T-This is… this is just
sex!”

Apolline gives Hermione a pitying look, and as an older woman, Hermione can’t help but feel a pang of
disappointment in the idea that she’s disappointed the half veela.

“Yes, darling. We’re instructing dear Harry in tantric sex magic. I know you English folk are very
close-minded when it comes to the broadness of magic and the applications of energy, but do try to
keep up, won’t you?”

Hermione flushes bright red at that, even as her indignation and anger are momentarily stymied by her
curiosity. Tantric… Sex Magic? It makes her blush profusely just thinking about it, and yet… she’s kind of
interested. Meanwhile, as her and Apolline have been talking, Harry has gotten Fleur off with his tongue
more times then either he or she can count. Grabbing her by the ankles, Harry lifts Fleur’s legs up into
the air, and a moment later is fucking her in a mating press, right there atop the obviously magically
enforced lounge chair.

With her legs above her shoulders, Fleur can do nothing but hold on for dear life, moaning and squealing
and screaming like a banshee in heat as Harry fucks her through multiple orgasms. Apolline giggles and
rubs herself against his back all the while, moaning as she gives Harry instructions, telling him how to
fuck Fleur and how hard to go at this or that time, showing him how to claim the part veela as his bitch
and make her addicted to his cock.

All the while, Hermione finds herself creeping closer and closer. There’s an incandescent blush on her
face by this point as she watches Fleur get fucked. Initially, she’d believed that Harry was being used,
that he was even potentially being abused. She’d come out here guns blazing because it’d honestly
looked like her best friend was being take advantage of.

Not anymore though. Now, it looked more like Harry was the one taking advantage of his hostesses’
hospitality, of their unbridled passion and libidos. Just how sexual of creatures WERE veelas anyways?
And Fleur and Apolline weren’t even full veelas! It’s quite the sight to see, watching Fleur Delacour,
one of the prettiest girls Hermione has ever seen, get plowed silly by her best friend’s big fat cock.
Though, as she watches on, it’s not really right to call Fleur a girl. She’s a woman, she’s all woman…
and it shows. With such heavy breasts and thicc thighs and an ass that just won’t quit, Fleur is a
gorgeous French witch, the perfect female specimen… and Harry is absolutely demolishing her with his
dick. The young part veela simply can’t withstand his massive cock, from the look of things.

By this point, Hermione is in touching distance. Apolline draws her over, taking her by the hand, and
Hermione lets herself be pulled along, she lets herself be dragged up onto the lounge chair. Said lounge
chair is DEFINITELY magical, because there’s no way that it should have been able to carry all four of
their weight like it currently was. But it persisted even still, and slowly but surely, Hermione’s clothes
come off.

She was NOT exactly dressed for a day by the poolside, but soon enough, Apolline has her down to
nothing at all, stripping her to her birthday suit. All the while, the gorgeous veela MILF is kissing
Hermione, their lips pressing together, their tongues dueling with one another. Fleur’s orgasmic squeals
and screams fill the background of this impromptu makeout session with lewd noises, along with the
sounds of Harry’s cock pistoning in and out of her gushing wet pussy.

It's the most erotic experience Hermione has ever had, the most debauched encounter she’s ever been
a part of… and she realizes, with a thrill of delight that fills her every being, that it’s just getting started.
Apolline tells her as much, leaning in close and speaking in that unbelievably sexy French accent as she
holds Hermione from behind, groping and playing with the English witch’s tits while they watch harry
pound away into Fleur’s cunt.

“We’ll let him take you next, Miss Granger. Would you like that, Hermione? Would you like it if ‘Arry’s
big fat cock split your insides?”

Hermione whimpers, shivering as Apolline’s whispered words caress her ear. She nods jerkily, because
yes, she would, she’d like that very much. Secretly, deep down inside… she’s wanted Harry to fuck her
for a long, long time. It was hard to admit to herself, but under the current circumstances, Hermione
could no longer deny the truth.

For the longest time now, she’d forced herself to settle for the second choice, believing herself unworthy
of Harry’s affections. Or perhaps she’d been afraid that pursuing Harry’s affections would have broken
up their trio, driving Ron away. She’d worried that confessing to Harry would upset Ron to the point that
he’d no longer want to be their friend, and that that would in turn force Harry to choose between her or
Ron.

… Until now, she’d been afraid Harry would pick Ron over her. Even last year, when Ron had declared
Harry a liar and effectively ended their friendship over Harry’s name coming out of the Goblet of Fire…
Hermione had still been afraid of confessing to Harry. It’d all felt so surreal, like Ron would come back
any second, like Harry would eventually forgive Ron and they’d be friends again… and that’s exactly
what had happened, in the end. They’d made up pretty fast, and Hermione had had only a few short
months alone at Harry’s side before Ron was back in the mix.

She’d let that chance pass her by, but she refused to let this one. Here she was, watching Harry fuck
another witch right in front of her eyes while said witch’s own mother had just stripped Hermione naked
and even now was preparing her for her own fucking at Harry’s hands. He was going to take that big fat
cock of hers, and he was going to fuck her so hard, so deep with it… Hermione could hardly wait.

And, as it turned out, she wouldn’t have to wait any longer. With a loud triumphant roar, which is in turn
accompanied by Fleur’s latest orgasmic cry, Harry buries the full length of his big fat dick inside of the
part veela and then proceeds to paint her insides white with his cum. It’s obvious he’s cumming, even
from Hermione’s perspective, and she can just imagine his balls churning as he releases his seed, can
just imagine how amazing it must feel for Fleur, to be so full and satisfied on Harry’s cum.

She won’t have to imagine much longer though, she realizes. Hermione blushes even redder than
before as Harry pulls out of Fleur and turns to face her, a knowing smile on his face. Apolline is quick to
position her, and Hermione finds herself laying back against Apolline’s chest as Harry approaches, the
veela MILF reaching down betwixt Hermione’s thighs to spread her pussy lips open.

“Here she is, ‘Arry… she’s all yours. Take her, claim her, just as I’ve showed you.”

Honestly, if Hermione didn’t know any better, she’d say that Apolline Delacour considered the perfect
French Gentleman to be a big dicked wizard that went around dominating and conquering witches like
the bitches in heat that they were. As her face grows hotter and hotter from Harry’s proximity, Hermione
realizes that she really doesn’t know any better… and that’s probably exactly what Apolline thinks a
perfect French Gentleman is supposed to be like.

She finds it hard to disagree with the idea, especially as Harry leans forward and cups her cheek with
one hand, kissing her on the lips. It’s a loving kiss, though it quickly grows more and more aggressive.
Hermione can only moan into Harry’s mouth as his tongue wrestles her tongue into submission, as he
dominates the kiss and makes her his, claiming her mouth as his property.

And then his cock is against her sopping wet slit, and he’s inside of her a moment later, and all
Hermione can do is squeal in a truly undignified manner, just like Fleur before her as Harry begins to
fuck her. He’s so big, and moaning into his mouth, Hermione finds her eyes fluttering in orgasmic
delight as she soon cums around Harry’s massive cock.

He really is blessed with an amazing dick, and now so is she. Harry’s the one giving her that blessing,
and it’s all Hermione can do not to lose herself in the ocean of pleasure. Luckily, Apolline is there,
though she both helps and hinders. Her words whispered in Hermione’s ear tend to turn the young
witch on even more as Harry fucks her hard, but they also ground her, reminding Hermione of where she
is and who she’s with right now.

She wraps her arms around Harry’s neck and her legs around his waist for good measure, mewling into
his mouth and using her eyes to beg him for more. More is exactly what he gives her. He’s rough with
her, just like he was with Fleur. He’s dominating her, just like he dominated Fleur. But Hermione can
also feel the love Harry has for her, she can feel it with every thrust of his big fat cock… and that’s more
than good enough for her. The way he’s taking her, the way he’s claiming her… she wants it. She’s
wanted it for a long time.

Fuck Ron Weasley, she doesn’t care if she upsets the red haired boy any more. This is about her and
Harry now, and whether Ron has a place at Harry’s side as his friend is wholly up to Harry himself.
Hermione knows what she wants to be to Harry… whatever he wants of her. Whether he wants her as a
girlfriend or wife, or even just a concubine or mistress… Hermione is A-Okay with that, fully on board with
even being Harry’s sex slave if it comes down to it.

That’s because the brunette witch knows he’ll always love her and always take care of her, no matter
what form their relationship takes after this. Whether she has to kneel beside him as his pet, or gets to
stand beside him as his bride, it matters little in the end. What does matter is Harry’s cock, inside of her
cunt, thrusting away and fucking her through orgasm after orgasm.

Even with Apolline to ground her, Hermione’s mind is starting to fray at the edges, her eyes rolling back
in her head and her tongue, which Harry is currently wrestling into submission with his own tongue,
writhing wildly and out of control in between their mouths. As they swap spit and Hermione experiences
explosive orgasm after explosive orgasm, there comes a point when Apolline’s words just aren’t
enough anymore.

That’s also the moment that Harry decides he’s tired of this point, and straight up yanks Hermione out
of the gorgeous veela MILF’s arms. Lifting Hermione up off of the lounge chair and rising himself, Harry
reveals just how strong he’s gotten physically, as he holds her aloft and begins to fuck her in this new,
standing position. His cock goes much deeper inside of her as a result, slamming up against the
entrance of Hermione’s womb and making her squeal as it begins to batter down her cervix.

Harry, meanwhile, has his hands on Hermione’s ass, while she continues to cling to him like a monkey,
wrapping her limbs around him and holding herself to him tightly. Their tongues continue to play with one
another as Hermione cums again and again and again, until finally Harry’s big fat dick busts right
through her cervix, entering her womb directly. A moment later and Harry is cumming himself, filling
Hermione with a nice thick creampie, just like he did Fleur before her.

Hermione’s entire world goes white at that, and she goes limp against his chest, passing out completely
from the exertion. It’s everything she ever hoped for, the rough, dominating, and altogether loving sex
sending her into blissful oblivion right there on the spot.

-x-X-x-

As Harry Potter slowly lowers his best friend onto the lounge chair right beside Fleur, he hums, looking
at her curiously. Somehow, he hadn’t thought he could do to Hermione what he’d been doing to Fleur
for weeks now… but Apolline was right, he supposed. Speaking of the Delacour Matriarch and total MILF,
she comes up behind him as he stands there staring down at Hermione and Fleur’s fucked silly
expressions. Wrapping herself around him from behind, pressing her tits up against his back, she
strokes his cock and his chest at the same time as she rests her chin on his shoulder.

“I did tell you, didn’t I, ‘Arry? All of us women are the same, be we muggles, witches, or even veela. All
we want is a big, strong man… preferably a big strong wizard, to fuck us into a stupor and show us our
place. Mm, you certainly showed Miss Granger hers, didn’t you?”

Harry swallows thickly at that, and slowly nods. Apolline had gone on and on, telling him all about how
she was going to teach him how to be the perfect French Gentleman. And then she’d sacrificed her
oldest daughter to his honestly insatiable libido, having him fuck Fleur into a stupor again and again and
again over these past few weeks. If this was what a French Gentleman was like… Harry supposed, he
could get behind that.

“Oh, looks like someone is already hard again~ Mm, don’t you fret, ‘Arry. Let Mama Apolline take care
of you.”

Slipping around him and sliding down to her knees, Apolline Delacour greedily takes his latest erection
into her mouth, even wrapping her tits around his cock a moment later. She’s yet to let him fuck her yet,
but she certainly does love performing oral sex on him. Hm, though as he looks down into her twinkling
eyes, Harry finds himself wondering if she’s waiting for him to take initiative. Is he truly not allowed to
fuck her… or is she just expecting him to override her like the ‘perfect French Gentleman’ she’s training
him to be?

For now, Harry won’t step over that line just yet. For now, he’s got enough on his plate with Fleur and
now Hermione as well. Two gorgeous witches, all his to enjoy as he pleases… and a sexy as fuck MILF
who’s teaching him how to dominate them and make them his bitches.

Yeah, Harry is pretty happy he came to France.

 2 - Harry/Narcissa/Apolline

As Harry grunts and cums all across Hermione and Fleur’s insensate bodies, having just finished
fucking them both into a stupor yet again, he’s well aware of the presence of Fleur’s mother coming up
beside him. With both younger women in no position to do much of anything at the moment given their
ahegaoing faces and their twitching bodies, Harry turns to regard Apolline Delacour.

The Delacour Matriarch promptly drops into a crouch and happily sucks the juices off of his cock,
cleaning up both the remnants of his seed from fucking her daughter and Hermione, as well as the
feminine fluids both younger women have left behind. Harry groans as she does so, his breath catching
in his throat as he looks down at the absurdly beautiful MILF. Apolline in turn looks up at him as she
vacuums in her cheeks, sucking down on his cock like the pro she is.

And then she’s done, having finished cleaning him off. Pulling off of his member with a pop, Apolline
straightens up and gives Harry a wide, wicked smile as she speaks in that gorgeous, erotic French
accent that her and Fleur have going for them.

“It is time to step up your game, Harry Potter. You’re hitting a wall… and I won’t have that. It’s time for
the next stage of your training.”

Harry blinks slightly at that, and glances over at ‘Mione and Fleur’s insensate bodies for a moment
before furrowing his brow as he looks back at his ‘teacher’.

“… I honestly thought I was making a lot of ground with Hermione and Fleur. Am I doing something
wrong?”

The half-veela matriarch just laughs a little, though it doesn’t sound necessarily cruel or mocking as she
giggles girlishly behind a hand. Shaking her head, Apolline’s eyes twinkle as she explains.

“You have done nothing wrong, Harry… however, my daughter and Ms. Granger alone will not allow you
to truly excel in this craft. Those two were… tutorials, in the end. Now that you have proven yourself with
silly young women like Fleur and Hermione… it is time to see what you can do with witches brimming with
experience and sexual energy.”

Apolline pauses for a moment, mostly to see if she has Harry’s attention. Put simply, she definitely
does. He’s hanging off her every word, even as she smiles coyly.

“To learn to be a genuinely great lover, you must lure a more mature witch into a web of seduction, and
then dominate her until she is ruined for anything else. That is my next test for you, Harry Potter. Do you
think you’re up to the challenge?”

Harry blinks, and then looks down at himself. Apolline can easily see what he’s seeing, even if she
knows it’s not what she sees. Sure, the boy is young and still technically a boy… but not in the ways it
counts. Harry doesn’t see those ways, not totally yet. While he acknowledges that he has a big, fat
cock, she can see that his self-esteem is still somewhat fragile. They’ve been working on repairing and
growing his ego since he arrived here, but it has been a slow process, to be sure.

“I just… I don’t know how any woman of any level of maturity and experience could possibly take me
seriously, ma’am. With Fleur and Hermione, it’s different because their my own age, but…”

Apolline smirks, eyes twinkling as she pulls out a small little pouch from seemingly nowhere, cutting
Harry off.

“… What’s this?”

“Aging pills, Harry. If you are so worried about your age… well, those will add ten years to your physical
appearance.”

Opening the pouch, Harry carefully takes out one of the pills, and at her prompting as she gives him a
smile and nod, he swallows it. The change is miraculous, but then, that’s magic for you. In a moment,
Harry goes from being a teenage boy to appearing to be in his mid-twenties, or thereabouts. Apolline
smiles appreciatively, and then places a hand against Harry’s chest and leans in, causing him to shiver
as her breath ghosts across her ear, her lips mere centimeters away from the side of his head.

“Now, your true training begins, my darling.”

-x-X-x-

“Hmph, how can we be sure the food here isn’t poisoned, father?”

“With squibs working in the kitchen, we can’t… but if you aren’t able to cast a spell to detect such things
by now, Draco, then I don’t know what I will do with you.”

Draco sputters and blusters at that, and makes a point of proving he can, if only to gain the smallest
fraction of his father’s approval. As Lucius smiles coldly at the display of magic, Narcissa Malfoy, not for
the first time, bemoans that her son takes more after her husband then he does after her. Truly, she is
cursed.

It’s not that she doesn’t love the boy… Draco will always be her darling son, her flesh and blood. But
there’s certainly no love lost between Narcissa and her ponce of a husband. Lucius Malfoy is… well,
he’s many things. Many things that Narcissa knows to refrain from thinking on for too long. Meanwhile,
her son has turned out to be quite the snot-nosed brat, even as he nears the age of majority as well as
his Hogwarts Graduation.

The three of them are ensconced in one of the private booths in Chez Apolline, the most famous magical
restaurant in all of Paris. Needless to say, the reason they were IN France in the first place might have
been because this was where House Malfoy hailed from and so they were ostensibly visiting family, but
the reason they were in this restaurant in particular was all because of Narcissa.

As much as Lucius and Draco might complain about the fact that Chez Apolline hired squibs to work in
their kitchen, Narcissa couldn’t care less. The food here was phenomenal, and as it arrives and the
family of three begin to dig in, she notes that not even Lucius and Draco can find room to complain
anymore. Instead, blessed silence falls over the private booth as all three of them eat their meals,
greatly enjoying the positively magical dishes.

Chez Apolline has some of the best chefs the world over, and it has long been Narcissa’s favorite
restaurant. Not just in France, but in all of Europe, possibly the whole wide world. Certainly, Narcissa’s
few trips across the pond to the Americas have yet to yield any sort of positive eating experience akin to
the ones she’s had here, at Chez Apolline.

The quality of food is more than high enough to put up with Lucius and Draco’s initial sniping about the
staff. As they make their way through the multi-course meal, Narcissa makes sure to savor every last
bite, not really caring that Lucius and Draco reluctantly do the same. However, when it comes time for
dessert… she’s a little surprised.

The chocolate truffle cake that she always orders, her positively favorite part of the experience by far at
Chez Apolline… it looks a tad different. Upon inquiring, Narcissa is told by the Maître d’ that the previous
dessert chef no longer worked for Chez Apolline… but that the new one came highly recommended by
the owner of the restaurant herself.

A little put out and honestly fully prepared for disappointment, Narcissa decided to ultimately give the
dessert a try all the same. Seeing how Lucius and Draco were already halfway through their own
desserts, Narcissa wasn’t going to be the only one who went through the rest of the night without
something sweet on her tongue.

What she’s not expecting, however, when she finally places a forkful of the chocolate truffle cake in her
mouth, is the explosion of flavor and just sheer, utter delight that takes place upon her tongue. Eyes
widening, the Lady Malfoy finds herself practically inhaling the rest of the dessert, to the extent that she
ends up finishing it before her husband and son despite them having a head starts and draws strange
looks at her lack of aplomb from both of them.

Narcissa doesn’t care though, in this moment, the witch wonders if she just might have found Nirvana.
However, her euphoria comes crashing down moments later when a request for another chocolate truffle
cake, perhaps even several for the road, is met with apologizes and an explanation that it’s all sold out.

Flabbergasted and more than a little angry at being denied, the Lady Malfoy soon learns upon further
interrogation that Chez Apolline’s newest dessert chef is a bit of an eccentric, and that she was merely
lucky to be here when the Chocolate Truffle Cake was on the menu, because he changed what desserts
he was creating throughout the day, every day, not seeming to ever settle into one category, dabbling in
all sorts of things. She’d managed to get the last Chocolate Truffle Cake they had left… but truth be told,
that did not satisfy Narcissa one bit.

In the end, the gorgeous MILF makes her excuses with Lucius and Draco and sends the Malfoy men on
their way to do their nefarious Death Eater deeds without her. Narcissa, meanwhile, has decided she
has a date with destiny in the kitchen. The Maître d’ tries to stop her, of course… but Narcissa is nothing
if not motivated.

“Miss, you can’t-mmph!”

Leaving the bumbling buffoon tied to a chair with a simple silent Incarcerous, Narcissa stalks into Chez
Apolline’s kitchens, quickly finding the one dedicated to desserts, where the restaurant’s newest chef
was plying his trade. Perhaps if Narcissa was more observant, she might have noticed that this new chef
bore a striking resemblance to a wizard she once knew. NOT Harry Potter… but James Potter, a
contemporary of hers back in her Hogwarts Days.

But alas, James Potter had been dead for decades, his son was supposed to still be in his teens, and
this gorgeous, dark-haired, green-eyed handsome hunk of a dessert chef had other parts of Narcissa’s
brain meats sparking as he turns to look at her, blinking. Licking her lips, the Lady Malfoy prowls closer,
her eyes drifting over the desserts he’s toiling away at. No Chocolate Truffle Cake, to her dismay, but
they all look delicious, nonetheless.

“… Can I help you?”

Smirking easily, Narcissa makes sure to add some sway to her hips as she gets closer. The MILFy
Pureblood is a gorgeous specimen of feminine beauty… and she knows it too. Nothing more dangerous
than a woman who knows her worth, her mother always used to say. Regardless, it’s clear the young
man, because he IS still young by Narcissa’s standards, is a little taken aback by her.

“Mm, perhaps you can help me… perhaps I can help you. I wished to… give my compliments to the chef.”

Before he can really respond, the Lady Malfoy has done a most unladylike thing, dropping down into a
crouch right there in front of him. Pulling aside his apron, she works open his pants and quickly draws
his cock out of his confines while he’s still recovering from her very presence. Narcissa isn’t surprised,
she has that effect on men.

As she takes the chef’s cock in her hands, gently but firmly stroking up and down his length, applying
just the right pressure to his member, she looks up at him and licks her lips aggressively.

“It’s like this… I want you to make me more of your Chocolate Truffle Cake. Barring that, I want the
recipe so I can see if it can be recreated by anyone else.”

When the young studly chef bristles, Narcissa cuts him off by giving his length a pointed tug.

“Ah-ah… don’t give me your answer, when you haven’t even let me have a chance to convince you
yet.”

This was not Narcissa’s first rodeo… she’d cheated on Lucius more times then she could possibly have
kept track of. Even still, as she crouches there in the back of Chez Apolline, Narcissa can’t help but feel
like… like she has to make this time special. Like there needs to be something unique about this
encounter. Glancing to her side, Narcissa’s eyes alight upon something and she grins wickedly, before
grabbing the bowl of freshly made whipped cream off the table next to her.

Before the chef can protest, she’s dumped it on his cock… and begins to suck him off. From there,
everything Narcissa does is tinged with a bit of… mm, food porn. It’s the first time she’s ever done
something like this, adding food to her erotic play. It’s new and exciting, a delicious addition to her
cheating on Lucius, and the Lady Malfoy perhaps goes a little overboard with herself as she blows the
young man in front of her.

Not stopping at the whipped cream, Narcissa incorporates everything from chocolate syrup to caramel
into the mix, all of which she greedily sucks off of the gorgeous, massive member before her. He hadn’t
been fully erect when she’d first pulled his cock out, she’s pleased to find… no, his already-large cock
had barely been at half-mast, and now that he’s completely hard, Narcissa is having the time of her life
sucking his cream-coated cock and lapping at his chocolate syrup covered balls.

She makes an utter mess of both of them, truth be told, shucking off her blouse at one point or another
and exposing her large, pale breasts, which end up getting just as dirty as time goes on. She’s having
the time of her life though and has no intention of stopping, and it would seem she’s making progress
with the young chef, because he’s not stopping her either… one way or another, Narcissa Malfoy is
going to get what she wants.

“What is the meaning of this?! What are you doing with my chef?!”

However, just as that thought passes through Narcissa’s head, an angry female voice calls out,
speaking in a deep, exotic French accent. Narcissa finds herself pulled off of the cock in front of her by a
hand grabbing her by the hair, something that leaves her eyes widening in stark disbelief. No one has
manhandled her like that since she was young and her sisters and her would get in cat fights.

No one would dare touch the Lady Malfoy under normal circumstances, but as Narcissa whips around to
confront the bitch who pulled her away from her delicious dessert, she realizes belatedly why this
woman thought she could get away with it. The absolutely gorgeous beauty in front of her is one
Narcissa recognizes quite well, not that they’ve ever spoken face to face before. Apolline Delacour, the
owner of Chez Apolline, and also the Matriarch of the Delacour Family, one of Magical France’s oldest
wizarding families.

She’s also a half-veela, which results in quite a lot of disrespect being thrown around in regard to her in
the sort of circles Narcissa’s family runs in. Still, Narcissa has always made sure that Lucius and Draco
kept their comments focused on the squibs working in the kitchens. For all that the private booths in
Chez Apolline were SUPPOSED to be private, she didn’t want to find out what would happen if her
husband and son were caught badmouthing the restaurant’s owner, as it were. She wouldn’t want to
be kicked out, after all.

But now…

“Out! Out with you! You must leave, you are creating a disturbance!”

Now, it seemed that it was Narcissa’s actions which were leading to her being kicked out. But the Lady
Malfoy didn’t intend to go down without a fight. Even topless, Narcissa pulls off a perfectly British
pureblood snob as she straightens her back and looks down her nose at the half-veela standing before
her. Words were Narcissa’s battlefield… and she had no intentions of losing.

“Now see here-!”

-x-X-x-

An epiphany hits Harry n that moment as the two older women begin to insult one another. This… this
was what Apolline had meant. The gorgeous French witch and half-veela had spent the last several
weeks showing him how to seduce with things like food, foot massages, and flowers… all that stuff… but
Harry had sort of found his passion in the food category more than anything else. Desserts specifically.

And when Apolline had discovered just how good of a chef he actually was, well, she’d clearly gotten
side tracked. Hell, she was the one to tell him his next step was to seduce a woman with experience and
sexual energy to her, right? Well, Draco’s mom certainly counted… and yes, Harry recognized Lady
Narcissa Malfoy of House Malfoy. She’d been at a couple of events over the years, and he’d recognize
that style of dress anywhere to be honest. Plus… well, he’d known Draco and Lucius were in the building
from the moment they sat down.

Regardless, Apolline might have strayed, but Harry hadn’t. Even as the half-veela tries to kick Narcissa
out of the restaurant so Harry can get back to work, Harry in turn knows what he must do.

“Enough.”

The single word causes both older women to fall into silence given the power radiating behind it, even
though he doesn’t raise his volume. He doesn’t have to, as Apolline and Narcissa turn astonished
gazes towards him.

“If the Lady Malfoy wants a lesson… I’ll give it to her.”

And with that ominous line said, Harry reaches out and grabs Narcissa by the rest of her dress, and rips
it off of her body, even as he drags her towards him at the same time. The gorgeous MILF yelps and
squeals, only to gasp as he bends her over the counter behind him… and presses her face down into a
bowl of chocolate mousse in particular.

There’s no doubt in Harry’s mind that this is exactly what Narcissa wants, even if she herself doesn’t
even know it. His belief is only confirmed when the beautiful blonde bitch moans the moment he thrusts
into her from behind.

“Yessss~ Fuuuuck, your mousse is so delicious, and your c-cock is so big!”

Her tongue writhes around in the chocolate mousse, even as her hips bounce back into his thrusting
prick. Harry snorts derisively at just how unladylike Narcissa Malfoy is proving to be, before settling in to
dominate the ever-living daylights out of her. He fucks her as hard as he can, not letting up for even a
moment, and she happily takes it like the bimbo she’s turning out to be, the gorgeous MILF slurping at
the chocolate mousse as her face and tits get messier and messier, all while Harry pounds into her from
behind.

Eventually, he fills Narcissa with his cum… but it’s not enough. Even as he’s pulling out of her twat,
Harry is forcing her head down into the chocolate mousse some more, and with his other hand grabbing
a cup full of cream from nearby. He pours it out onto Narcissa’s pale white ass and back, coating her in
the stuff, and then he grabs her ass with both hands, giving it a harsh clap as he does so, and spreads
her butt cheeks wide.

As Harry forces his cock into Narcissa’s back door and takes her anally in the same way he took her
vaginally, he’s half expecting the tight-assed noblewoman to make a fuss… but even though it’s
imminently obvious she’s never had something as big as Harry’s cock up her ass before, Narcissa
doesn’t tell him to stop, she doesn’t order him, nor does she beg him. Instead, she just moans all the
louder.

It’s obvious she’s visibly overwhelmed from what Harry can see as she pulls her head up from the
chocolate mousse she’s practically consumed in full at this point. Her face might be coated in the stuff,
but that doesn’t hide the way her eyes are rolling up in her head or the way her tongue is lolling out of
her smiling mouth, not from Harry’s gaze. As he watches her, he knows that he’s done exactly what he
sought out to do… he’s put Lady Malfoy in her place and shown her what a REAL man can do. Not even
a wizard, but a man… and it’s clear Narcissa can’t get enough of him.

For her part, the Lady Malfoy simply can’t believe her great luck. Her incredible fortune had brought her
here, and she’d not only gotten great food, but also fucked out of her damn mind. No part of her is really
all that concerned about the chocolate truffle cake or it’s recipe any longer, truth be told… because now
Narcissa is focusing on how she’s going to maintain access to this handsome hunk of a chef. Will she
be able to ensnare him, to somehow draw him back to Britain with her?

Somehow, she doubts it. The tables have been turned on her immensely at this point, and it’s no longer
Narcissa doing the seducing anymore, for all that the handsome studly hunk’s version of ‘seducing’
involves fucking her like an animal and making her jizz her brains out around his cock again and again.
Even now, as Narcissa cums over and over from the anal pounding she’s receiving, she’s squirting her
pussy juices and the chef’s seed all over the damn floor.

By the time Harry finishes with her, Narcissa is in no position to do much thinking at all. He fills her ass
with his cream-filling just as he did her twat, and then he pulls out and gives her fat bottom a smack as
he looks upon her in amusement. The slutty, whorish MILF twitches and trembles a bit, still face down in
the chocolate mousse she’s utterly demolished, but not in any way, shape, or form capable of
interacting with the world in a cognizant manner at the moment.

That’s fine though because Harry has someone else he needs to deal with now. As he turns towards
Apolline Delacour, it’s to find that the French witch, half-veela, and all around gorgeous MILF has taken
to touching herself as she watched Harry dominate Lady Malfoy. When he looks at her however, and
she sees how hard he is still… Apolline goes still.

“Harry, I-mmph!”

Shoving a piece of cake in Apolline’s mouth, Harry wastes no time in putting the gorgeous Delacour
Matriarch in her place. This might not have been exactly what she meant to teach him, but it was what
he’d learned from her in the end, nonetheless. He takes her in a standing fuck, plowing her up against
the kitchen wall while at the same time feeding her some cake, smearing it and the frosting on her tits.

The owner of Chez Apolline is no more able to put up a fight against her newest chef then Lady Malfoy
was. Harry thrusts into Apolline, taking her just like he did Hermione and Fleur. Perhaps this wasn’t
what she’d thought she was showing him, but it’s definitely what Harry knows to be true now. Age… age
doesn’t matter. All that matters is his own self-confidence, his won drive to do whatever the fuck he
wants. To TAKE who he wants when he wants them.

Just because they were his own age didn’t make Mione and Fleur any different from older women like
Apolline and Narcissa, at the end of the day. Oh certainly, MILFs like the Delacour Matriarch and the
Lady Malfoy might have thought they were better then the younger generation, but Harry knew better
than that now, he knew the truth… they were all slutty little witches in desperate need of a good plowing.

So, that’s exactly what Harry gives her. And as the student becomes the master and the teacher learns
what it’s like to be fucked by a REAL Man after she’s spent so long cultivating him, Apolline Delacour’s
eyes begin to roll up in her head and her tongue lolls out of her mouth. As Narcissa lays there in a stupor
and Apolline gets fucked up against a wall and fed cake, she comes to realize… she’s created a
monster.

Narcissa had had barely cognizant ideas of finding a way to control Harry through sex for her own gain.
But where Narcissa had only just begun to scratch the surface… that had been Apolline’s plan from the
very beginning. However, it was quickly becoming abundantly clear that no plan survives contact with
the enemy. Harry was systemically ripping all of her plans to shreds, and she could tell that he didn’t
even know it… nor did he really care.

In the end, she just had to adjust. Harry couldn’t be controlled, Apolline could see that now. She’d
guided him through his initial sexual awakening by giving him her daughter, and then by luring in
Hermione Granger as well. But now… now Harry had gone through a sexual evolution all on his own, and
he didn’t need her anymore. Not as a teacher, anyways.

But as a fuck toy, as one of his women… Apolline could tell that so long as she didn’t overstretch too far,
she would always have a place at his side. So, without further ado, the gorgeous half-veela MILF
embraces her new lover and lets him dominate her and put her in her place… not that she could have
stopped him in the first place.

With a loud groan, Harry eventually deposits a load inside of Apolline. But… he’s still not satisfied, and
with the kitchen wrecked at this point and everyone avoiding it after hearing the noises coming from the
restaurant’s owner and their latest chef… he and the two beautiful older witches have the place all to
themselves.

So of course, Harry takes the two together next, an exercise in French and British unity as he lays
Narcissa on her back and then drops Apolline on top of her face down. There’s quite a lot more food
involved as well, as they basically make use of every last dessert in the kitchen, as well as many of the
more delicious ingredients.

As Harry fucks Apolline and Narcissa in that kitchen, smearing all manner of desserts across their
gorgeous bodies to his heart’s content, he knows without a doubt… he’s just getting started. The
magical world… nay, the entire world, better get ready for him.
 3 - Harry/Andromeda/Bellatrix

Andromeda Tonks still can’t really believe it. Even after rushing all the way to Paris to confirm whether
or not it’s true, she’s struggling. But there’s no denying that a lot of people believe it to be true. After
all, it’d run on the Daily Prophet’s front page for a week straight, albeit in different forms and different
takes, with small little updates here and there.

Lady Malfoy Abandons Family To Run Away With Harry Potter in France!

Ridiculous. An utterly ridiculous impossibility… right? Surely Narcissa would never leave behind her
husband and son? Surely the prim and proper Black sister wouldn’t desert from House Malfoy to
engage in some clandestine affair with the nemesis of her husband’s master? It had to be a mistake, or
a lie, or perhaps a plot to trap Harry and deliver him to the Dark Lord.

Truth be told, Andromeda, or Andy as she used to be known to her sisters when they were all so much
younger and didn’t know what sort of place the world was, couldn’t allow herself to believe that it might
be possible for Cissy to have abandoned the hoity toity purebloods and actually found love. Because,
even if she did… Harry was far too young for her to be sinking her claws into!

Andromeda would have to-

“Andy! Fancy meeting you here~”

For a moment, Andromeda Tonks goes absolutely stiff and wide-eyed as a sickeningly sweet, utterly
deranged, and horribly familiar voice hits her ears. Then, she remembers where she is and the most
important fact of all… neither her husband nor daughter are here with her. Shoulders slumping a little bit
in relief, Andromeda actually manages to relax, even as she turns and confronts her other little sister…
the completely mad, totally insane Bellatrix Lestrange.

And yet, as crazy as Bella has become over the years, Andromeda knows one thing to be true… she
would never hurt family. Even Andromeda, a muggle-lover, gets a pass in Bella’s book. Oh, she
wouldn’t stop any of her Death Eater friends from hurting Andromeda, she wouldn’t lift a hand to
protect her big sister, and she would certainly delight in torturing and killing Andromeda’s husband and
daughter for being muggleborn and half-blood respectively while forcing Andromeda to watch… but she
would never lay a finger on Andromeda herself.

And given that it seemed to just be the two of them on this street in Paris, no other Death Eaters in sight
and Andromeda’s family tucked away safely back in England, for the moment at least, the oldest Black
sister has nothing to fear from her younger sibling. Except, of course, fearing whatever task Bellatrix
might be here in Paris for on behalf of her Dark Lord.

“Bella… what brings you to Paris?”

Grinning like a loon, giggling a bit dementedly, Bellatrix twirls this way and that as she hums
consideringly, clearly contemplating what to tell her big sister… or maybe just having to spend some time
gathering up her scattered thoughts. Either way, Andromeda takes the moment given to take in her
sister for the first time in over a decade and a half. Oh sure, she saw Bella’s picture in the paper after
the Azkaban break out, but that wasn’t the same.

… Truth be told, Bellatrix Lestrange had clearly seen better days, but at the same time, she was doing
well for herself, surprisingly enough. She was certainly doing better than Andromeda had believed
possible. Pressing her lips together tightly, the eldest Black sister considers Bellatrix’s face and body,
how the younger woman has managed to survive the rigors of Azkaban surprisingly intact, her figure as
curvaceous as ever, even if her features are a tad gaunt. Perhaps she was on some sort of potions
regime since she’d been freed?

“What else? I’m here for the boy! How dare he! How dare he insult my Master and ruin his reputation
so?!”

Blinking at that, Andromeda frowns slightly.

“Is this… about Narcissa?”

Bella whips around, eyes wild and wide and manic… and then she throws her head back and laughs, as
crazy as ever.

“Cissy? Hah! No, the Master has always known that Cissy wasn’t truly loyal! She wasn’t even Marked,
Andy~ Not a real Death Eater… so her departure doesn’t reflect poorly on Master, only on Malfoy!
Hehehe, Master was actually quite pleased at the egg on Malfoy’s face, he told me himself! Dear Lucius
had been getting too big for his britches~”

Andromeda takes this all in, mouth slightly agape, but not knowing what to say in response to all of that.
It was… an intriguing look into the inner workings of the Dark Lord’s inner circle. And to find out that
Narcissa had never taken the Dark Mark… plus the Dark Lord was apparently happy that she’d
abandoned her family to abscond to France? Did that mean the rumors of her and Harry here in Paris
together were TRUE?!

“No! Cissy is worthless! She doesn’t matter! Falling for that half-blood brat only proves it! Especially
since he’s apparently become a baker of all things! He’s supposed to be Master’s Nemesis! How
DARE he degrade himself, and thus the Dark Lord, by lowering himself to being some sort of chef?!”

That… made even less sense. But then, this was Andromeda’s crazy little sister. Bella could get away
with not making sense, she hadn’t been making sense for a long, long time, and clearly a decade and
some change spent in the worst prison known to wizard-kind hadn’t done her any favors either. Still…

“… I won’t let you hurt Harry, Bellatrix.”

Her mad sister just grins wickedly at Andromeda, not seeming put out in the slightest.

“Hah! I’d like to see you try and stop me, Andy!”
-x-X-x-

And that was how it happened. That was how they ended up somehow teaming up to track down the
Boy-Who-Lived. And Cissy too, if Andy could find her, but truth be told, at this point Andromeda was
much more concerned about finding Harry Potter then she was about locating her other wayward little
sister. Especially since it seemed like the one in greatest danger from Bella was Harry, at this point.

In the end though, it doesn’t really matter, because as it turns out, Harry Potter and the third Black sister
are in the exact same place. What they ultimately find is a tasteful penthouse suite that was clearly paid
for with money Cissy MUST have squirreled away before abandoning her family and the Malfoy Fortune.
Certainly, it didn’t seem like a boy like Harry could afford a place like this, even if he had become some
sort of baker like Bella was claiming.

Regardless, Bellatrix does the breaking in, and Andromeda follows with her own wand drawn, ready to
hex her sister in the back if she has to do so in order to save Harry from her. First, they stumble upon
Cissy, however. The third Black sister has been fucked into a stupor and left lying in the front room of
the suite, her eyes rolled back in her head, her tongue lolled out of her mouth, and her naked, gorgeous
MILF body sprawled and looking like it’d one hundred percent been put through the ringer.

Andromeda blushes at the debauched view, but Bella just scoffs and continues forward, not paying their
sister even the slightest mind and forcing Andromeda to run to keep up. They make their way through an
absurdly fancy kitchen next, one that’s utterly filled with all sorts of state-of-the-art equipment… and from
the look of things, the leftovers of a dozen or so desserts. All of them look to be made of the highest
quality, with the best ingredients, and even though they’re almost all mostly consumed, Andromeda still
finds her mouth watering at the scents that fill her nose.

Bella, on the other hand, isn’t impressed. In fact, the mad witch scowls mightily at the evidence of the
rumors concerning Harry Potter turning out to be true. It does indeed seem like the boy has turned away
from the wizarding world’s woes… and towards baking, of all things. Regardless, Bella once again
moves on, and Andromeda has to move to catch up.

The third room they enter, they finally find the boy they’re looking for. Except, he’s not so much a boy,
they quickly discover. There, laid out on a couch in what looks to be a gentleman’s study of some
wealth, is Harry James Potter, in the flesh. More flesh than Andromeda knows what to do with, truth be
told.

It seems the boy was exhausted making up all those desserts AND fucking Cissy into a stupor on top of
it. He’s completely asleep from the look of things… but his cock is still hanging out of his pants. And
b-boy is it a big cock. The largest that Andy has ever seen, and she suspects from the way Bella stops
dead in her tracks and her breath hitches, that it’s the largest SHE’S ever seen as well.

Biting her lower lip, Andy’s eyes flicker up and down the young man’s shaft, even as the MILF tries and
fails to keep from wiggling her hips back and forth. His cock is like nothing she’s ever seen before. It’s
big, thick, and juicy… and it’s only at half-chub too! That realization is like the shock of ice water poured
down her back. Harry isn’t even fully erect, and yet he puts every cock she’s ever seen to shame.

And even though Andromeda was the ‘Light’ sister of the three Black Sisters, even though she was the
muggle-lover, the ‘good girl’ so to speak… she had a bit of a salacious past. Her years at Hogwarts had
been FILLED with debauchery and depraved acts galore! She’d only settled down with Ted because
he’d had the biggest cock she’d ever had at the time, truth be told. Yes, the MILF was a gigantic slut…
and yet, her poor husband couldn’t even HOPE to measure up to the heat that Harry was packing.

“I-I… I should… I suppose it will be easier to bring him back to my Master if he’s already unconscious…”

“No!”

Andromeda can’t say for sure where the outburst comes from, just like she can’t even begin to explain
Bella’s sudden stutter or shyness. Of course, hearing her muggle-lover of an older sister tell her she
can’t do something brings the usual insane Bellatrix Lestrange back right quick. As the Azkaban
Escapee whirls around with a snarl on her face, Andromeda is left thinking QUITE fast indeed…

“Y-You can’t… b-because his dick is hanging out!”

Bella blinks, but Andromeda is on a role. After all, just because the eldest Black sister had been the
sluttiest back during their Hogwarts days, didn’t mean she’d been the only one giving it out to all the
boys. Bella had been quite the slut herself before she’d gotten married and pledged eternal loyalty to
the Dark Lord.

“J-Just think, Bella! Think on h-how humiliated all of those Purebloods will be if you bring Harry before
the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters with a massive cock like that just swaying in the breeze! Their tiny
dicks just can’t compare, and you know it!”

Honestly, even Andromeda is a little surprised by how impassioned and honest and heartfelt her words
feel. It takes her a moment to realize she actually means every last one of them. Bella blushes crimson
again and begins to stutter as her eyes dart back and forth between her big sister and the young
sleeping man that they’re both practically looming over at this point. When did they both cross the room
to stand next to him anyways? No matter…

“T-Then put it away, Andy! Put the brat’s cock back in his pants so I can take him to my Master!”

“Fuck that!”

It’s another outburst, but this time Bellatrix doesn’t get angry and Andromeda doesn’t bother coming
up with an excuse for why not. She’s too busy staring down at Harry’s half-mast monster of a bitch
breaker, licking her lips as she imagines how it might feel inside of her. Ted just couldn’t compare, and
neither could any wizard Andy had ever heard of before.

“F-Fine… t-then I suppose it’s up to me…”

Andromeda watches with wide eyes as her little sister drops to her knees in front of the well-endowed
boy. Bellatrix licks her lips as she carefully takes hold of Harry’s cock, like she thinks it’s a snake that
will come alive and attack her at any moment. As she tries to stick him inside of his trousers however, it
looks like she’s running into trouble. He’s just too big, even at half-chub…
Panting a little breathlessly now, hopelessly turned on despite herself, the eldest Black sister and all
around Grade A MILF leans forward a bit, acting for just a moment like the devil on Bellatrix’s shoulder.
Or rather, the succubus on her shoulder. Merlin knew that her insane little sister had slain the angel on
her shoulder decades previously, and the devil on her shoulder was the Dark Lord whispering his poison
to her. Not that Andy has room to talk, as she whispers her own kind of poison directly into Bella’s ear.

“You may… you may have to use your mouth, sister dear.”

Such a scandalous idea, such a tantalizing though… Andromeda is half-tempted to perform the act
herself, but she’s a married woman, surely she can’t! Bella’s marriage doesn’t matter, everyone
knows it’s nothing but a farce, that she and Lestrange don’t actually love each other. Besides, Andy
doesn’t want Bella to abscond with Harry anyways, so it’s not like she’s going to HELP the other older
witch get the young man’s cock to go down.

For a moment, Bella just stares at the massive member in her hands, seemingly processing and
probably contemplating Andromeda’s suggestion. Then, without further ado… she leans forward and
swallows the head of his cock in between her lips. The cock head is ALL that she gets for at least a
second, her jaw having to stretch wider than it ever has had to before. Andromeda can’t help a
breathless moan at watching her baby sister, who really isn’t that little anymore, try and fail to handle
Harry’s big fat cock.

At the same time, Bella’s mouth IS putting in work, as best it can anyways. Her tongue swirling around
Harry’s cockhead, her lips suctioning down on what little of his massive prick she can handle. He’s
getting harder and harder in her hands and in her mouth, and both Black sisters are finally getting a
proper approximation of just how big Harry really is.

Personally, Andromeda doesn’t blame Cissy one bit for falling so in love with a cock this big that she
abandoned the Malfoy men to stay with Harry. And privately, she doesn’t think that Bella can really label
Cissy weak or worthless anymore either. Not when they’re both falling in love with the boy here and
now, and he’s still asleep!

Of course, that abruptly changes when Harry’s eyes suddenly fly open, woken up by the feel of a pair of
lips wrapped around his cock. His heavily lidded gaze and tired grin as he brings a hand down atop
Bellatrix’s head and laces his fingers through her hair makes it obvious he thinks she’s Cissy for a
moment. When he feels the crazy rat nest in place of Narcissa’s silken platinum blonde locks however,
his head snaps up and he looks down to see not Cissy, but her sister, staring up at him with wide eyes,
like she’s gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

He blinks down at her quite dumbly, and then looks over at Andromeda, noticing her as well.

“You… who are you two? Are you related to Narcissa?”

Good eyes… and of course he wouldn’t know either of them. It’s a little frightening that he doesn’t
recognize Bellatrix Lestrange, his great enemy’s right hand woman, but at the same time, it’s to be
expected. Bella had been broken out of prison around the same time Harry was being expelled from
Hogwarts and departing for France. This really was their first face to face meeting.
For whatever reason, Andy’s little sister seems intent on continuing to suck the boy’s massive cock…
scratch that, Andromeda knows exactly why, and truth be told, she’d be sucking his dick still too, if their
positions were replaced. Still, in the end it means that Andromeda has no choice but to do the talking.

“We… we’re Cissy’s sisters. My name is Andromeda Tonks… and this is Bellatrix Lestrange.”

A flash of recognition crosses Harry’s face at that as he looks down at Bella with wider eyes then
before, so at least he knows the woman by name, if not necessarily by face. Hurrying on, Andromeda
bites her lower lip as she lays out her sister’s plans.

“S-She’s been sent by the Dark Lord to take you back to England… so she’s sucking your cock to
completion in order to be able to tuck you back into your trousers.”

For a long moment, the room is silent save for the continued sounds of Bella’s suckling and slurping as
Harry processes this. He looks between Andromeda and Bellatrix a few more times before a slow grin
spreads across his face.

“Is that so?”

Trying to look determined but failing miserably, Bella just nods as best she can while never once
releasing Harry’s cockhead from betwixt her lips. The young man proceeds to chuckle and drawl out his
response.

“Well… you’re doing an absolute shite job of it. Here, let me help you out.”

And then that grip of his tightens up and Andromeda is treated to the most arousing sight in her life as
Harry James Potter takes her sister in hand and begins to force her up and down his absurdly mighty
shaft.

“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”

Right from the get-go, Bella is being face-fucked on Harry’s massive member. It quickly transforms into
outright skull-fucking as he brings his other hand up to her head as well, and Bella’s hands fall away
from his member to make way for her rapidly descending lips. Forced all the way to the base of his shaft,
the mad witch can do nothing more than gag and choke and gurgle as her pretty little throat is stretched
in a truly obscene fashion around his meaty, girthy cock.

Unable to help herself, Andromeda collapses to her knees, right then and there and crawls forward to
join Bella at her side. The eldest Black sister’s mouth is watering as she moans and begins to rub
against Bella’s bugling cheek, trying to get as much of a taste of Harry’s cock as she can, with how her
little sister is hogging it. The Grade A MILF wants nothing more than to be in Bella’s place… which is
why, when Harry suddenly pulls Bella off his cock completely and transitions over into Andromeda’s
mouth, she’s all too willing.

Opening nice and wide, Andy takes the young man’s big fat dick down her throat with just as little grace
and composure as her sister did, choking and gagging on his meat as her nostrils flare uselessly for air
and merely get a nice deep whiff of his thick musk instead.
“Hulghk! Hulghk! Hulghk!”

Meanwhile, beside her, Bella is slow to recover, but when she does, she lets out an angry growl.

“ANDY! YOU’RE ALWAYS STEALING MY TOYS YOU-MMPH!”

“Quiet. I’m not your toy, Death Eater bitch… put that mouth of yours to use and suck my balls.”

Harry has grabbed Bella by the hair again and forced her down to his nut sack before she can even
finish her screaming tantrum directed at Andromeda, and to Andy’s complete shock and awe… her mad
sister does as she’s told and begins to suck and slurp at his balls. Somehow, they’ve stumbled across
the only wizard besides the Dark Lord who can tell Bella what to do… or rather, maybe this is a complete
supplanting. Wouldn’t that be astonishing if that were how this all turned out? One Black sister under his
belt… and Harry Potter accidentally stumbles into completing the set.

That is, of course, exactly what happens. When he finally cums, he does so down Andromeda’s throat,
leaving the eldest black sister to choke on his seed as it explodes out of her nostrils and mouth, leaving
her dazed and confused about just what’s going on. As such, she’s in no position to keep Bella from
stealing the first-go with Harry from her… though, by the time she recovers enough to realize what’s
going on, her sister’s shrieking and squealing and moaning make her think that Harry is the one having
a go at Bellatrix rather than the other way around.

Bending the Death Eater over the back of the couch he’d been sleeping on mere moments before,
Harry fucks Bellatrix Lestrange as hard and as fast as he likes… which may not be as hard and as fast as
he can, but is still ten times more than any pureblood wizard with their tiny dick has ever managed to do
for the crazy bitch.

Shrieking and squealing and screaming at the top of her lungs, Bellatrix starts out begging her Master to
forgive her, but by the end of it, is decrying the Dark Lord as small-dicked and not nearly as worthy of
her love and adoration as Harry himself. Of course, that latter bit happens only after Harry has
transitioned from fucking Bella up the ass instead of the twat.

As it turns out, much to Andromeda’s shock and also glee, Bellatrix is a HUGE anal slut. Oh, she still
likes getting plowed in the cunt as much as the next witch, but when Harry takes his bitch breaker and
applies it to the Death Eater bitch’s tight, unused ass… Bella sings like a canary in short order. Getting
rammed from behind from the Boy-Who-Lived, getting plowed through anal orgasm after anal orgasm by
the very same ‘brat’ that she’s supposed to be securing for her Dark Lord… it clearly has a way of
putting Bella’s priorities in order, of giving her a fresh perspective on things.

By the time Harry is done with her, Bellatrix has sworn her loyalty to him… and the magic seems to agree
with her, because right before Andromeda’s eyes she’s watched as the Dark Mark on her fully naked
sister’s arm transforms into something more akin to House Potter’s coat of arms. Like chattel changing
hands, Bellatrix has been conquered and claimed by the young man fucking the ever-living shit out of
her, taken away from Voldemort by sheer force of will and power of magic.

Truth be told, for that alone, Andromeda would have gladly fucked Harry. But let’s be perfectly honest,
by the time he finishes fucking every single one of her younger sister’s holes, Andromeda is ready to
fuck the young man, not for Bella’s sake… but for her own. Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it’s horrible of her
to be setting aside what she and Ted have… but the eldest Black Sister just doesn’t care anymore.

She spreads her legs nice and wide for Harry, and he fucks her on her back in a mating press, his hands
starting on her ankles but ultimately moving to the MILF’s gorgeous, perfect titties as she wraps her
legs around his waist, moaning wantonly and begging him to take her harder, to take her faster, to not
stop for anything.

He doesn’t, and Andromeda gets the same treatment as Bella as a result. His cock in her twat, plowing
away inside of her sopping wet cunt for what feels like an eternity. When he’s finally done, but still
completely hard… well, there’s only one thing Andromeda wants at that point, really. She doesn’t just
want it, she NEEDS it. Frankly, for bringing her mad sister here to be fucked silly and ‘cured’ on
Harry’s cock, she feels like she DESERVES it.

So, rolling over onto her hands and knees and shaking her big fat booty, the MILF begs Harry to fuck her
ass next. The half-blood baker (and wasn’t that a shock to find out it was true he’d become a pastry
chef) had obliged. His massive cock, still slick and wet with the combined juices of her and her sister, as
well as both of their saliva, plowed into Andromeda’s depths in the most satisfying way she could
imagine, filling her bowels up to the brim, splitting her back door open and stretching it wider than ever
before.

It was phenomenal, of course, every last bit of it, and when Harry finally came inside of her ass,
Andromeda cried out like a whore in heat, screaming in ecstasy and begging for more, more, MORE!

Unfortunately, she didn’t get more… at least, not right away. Oh, it wasn’t that Harry was tired or
anything. Forget that, the young wizard was full of energy by the time he finished in her ass. Only, as
Andromeda was getting anally creampied and screaming to high heavens about it, Cissy was waking up
in the front room of the penthouse suite.

By the time Harry is pulling out of Andromeda’s ass, Cissy is there, standing in the doorway of the
study, gaping at the sight of her two sisters sprawled out in different parts of the room in fucked silly
stupors. Needless to say, the former Lady Malfoy was NOT happy that her siblings were there trying to
‘steal’ Harry away from her. After all, the gorgeous platinum blonde MILF had gotten there FIRST!
She’d called dibs!

Needless to say, Harry had no problems whatsoever reminding Narcissa that he wasn’t hers, but she
was his. Fucking her into a stupor like he’d done to the two of them seemed to be almost child’s play
for him at that point. Though Cissy did keep whining about there not being any dessert to go along with
it, oddly enough, with Harry chiding her that such food play was best reserved for the kitchen to avoid
making too big of messes.

By the end of it all, the three Black sisters have been fucked sideways and back, taken in every position
the three horny, needy, slutty witches can imagine, and then some that they never even thought of
before. In the end, the trio of beautiful older women, two of them full-on MILFs and one of them hoping
to become one from her NEW Master’s seed, are lined up in front of Harry on their knees, faces
together, mouths open, and tongues out as they offer themselves up.
Holding their tits up as well, the Black sisters moan happily as Harry lets loose all over their faces,
positively covering them all in his cream, coating the three of them in white, hot seed before he’s finally
done. There’s no doubt in any of their minds that this… this is it. To be fair, Narcissa had already
denounced her family by this point. Andromeda had been kicked out of the Black Family a long time ago,
so it wasn’t like she had any other magical loyalties keeping her from making the silent pledge.

And Bella… Bella was Bellatrix Black reborn, even looking healthier now as she kneels there with her
Dark Mark transformed into some sort of House Potter tattoo. Thus, the three of them had no problem
silently, individually, but also mutually pledging themselves to House Potter. The man before them had
proven himself worthy of their loyalty, adoration, and devotion a dozen times over.

They would serve Harry Potter in any capacity he allowed of them for the rest of their days.
 4 - Harry/Amelia Bones/Nymphadora

“Auror Tonks… just how bad is it?”

Madam Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magic Law Enforcement, rubs her forehead as
she looks up at one of the few aurors she’s sure she can trust. Standing in front of her desk, arms
behind her back and feet spread, Auror Nymphadora Tonks clears her throat, her face slightly red.

“… I’ve managed to procure memories of the night in question finally, ma’am. You’re going to want to
see this.”

Well, if Nymphadora thinks so, Amelia will take her at her word.

“Very well, retrieve the pensieve.”

With a flick of her hands, she opens the large doors on the nearby glass cabinet, disabling the magical
protections on the piece of furniture for a moment so that Tonks can reach in there and grab Amelia’s
personal pensieve from it’s resting place. The young Auror brings it back over to her boss’ desk and
sets it down carefully, before removing a vial filled with silver liquid from her robes and pouring it inside.

As the two of them both push their heads into the pensieve to relive the memories within at the same
time, Amelia can’t help but reflect on why they’re doing this. It all goes back to one, single man. One
Harry James Potter. The Head of the DMLE didn’t have anything against Harry, despite his criminal
record. She’d been more than capable of recognizing an injustice when she saw it, but unfortunately
there was nothing that even she, in her lofty position, could do. Not when the Wizengamot had made it’s
majority voice heard and expelled the wizard.

All the same, she’d been somewhat relieved when news had reached her desk that Harry Potter had
left Britain behind for France. She’d been relieved, and even hopeful that he would find the happiness
he couldn’t find here in their little slice of the magical world, elsewhere. But she’d only allowed herself
to think on him for a little while before getting back to work.

That should have been the end of it. The Boy-Who-Lived should have stayed away. If expulsion via the
Wizengamot wasn’t enough of a hint, Amelia didn’t know what was. But somehow, someway, the
young man had become something of a celebrity in the Muggle World AS WELL as the Wizarding World.
He’d apparently taken to cooking, and that had turned him into some sort of famous dessert chef.

Which had then given him the opportunity to work in Muggle London as the host of the Great British
Bakeoff. Certainly, Amelia didn’t begrudge the man the opportunity. But she did wish he’d thought a
little more deeply about it. Her plate was full enough without shit like this being piled onto it.

The reach of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters did not extend very far outside of
Britain. It didn’t even reach all the way to France. And so, by departing, Harry had actually made himself
quite safe. And yet, it did sting a little that he wasn’t safe here, in his homeland, but there was only so
much Amelia could do.

Case in point, within days of Harry returning to host this Muggle cooking event, Death Eaters had caught
wind of it and attacked him in the middle of a bunch of muggles. Needless to say, the obliviators had
been busy after that one. But that wasn’t the source of Amelia’s headache. No, the source of her
headache was the fact that Harry had defended himself. Not only defended himself but defeated every
single Death Eater sent to attack him.

This had caused something of a shitstorm within the Wizengamot and upper echelons of the Ministry.
Because Harry James Potter wasn’t supposed to be magically capable. His wand was supposed to
have been snapped. He had been expelled from Hogwarts before his education could be completed. He
hadn’t even sat his OWLS! So how had he done it?

Needless to say, an inquiry had immediately been launched by those stuffed idiots in the Wizengamot,
followed by a public hearing that had been announced before anyone could possibly have heard
anything. At said hearing, everyone had had something to say about Harry’s actions. Everyone wanted
a piece of him too. It gave Amelia even more of a headache just thinking about it. From Narcissa Malfoy
to Andromeda Tonks, to Apolline Delacour… just how many older witches were trying to get their claws in
Harry exactly? To say nothing of the Weasleys and their weird attempt to claim him.

In the end, Harry hadn’t actually broken any laws even if he had used magic to defend himself. Unless it
was Dark Magic of course, which was an accusation that had been made. So, Amelia had put her foot
down and stated that she would be applying her personal attention to the case, and until they could fully
get to the bottom of this, Harry would be staying with her in her mansion, under the personal guard of
some of her best and brightest aurors.

Now her and one of those aurors were in her private study, looking at the memories of one of the few
eye witnesses to the events in question that hadn’t been obliviated by the over-zealous obliviators.

Pulling back out of the pensieve as the memory comes to a close, Amelia can’t help but blink and stare
stupidly across the rune-carved stone basin at her subordinate.

“Did he just…?”

Blushing a little, Auror Tonks nods.

“Yep.”

“He didn’t even…”

“Nope.”

There were few times in Amelia’s life that she could say she was gobsmacked. This was one of them.
Because he… Harry hadn’t used a single ounce of magic to defend himself, not even the
Ministry-Approved sort of magic. Neither Dark nor Light magic had come from the young man. Instead,
he’d managed to deflect every Killing Curse sent his way with a big, shiny, metal pan… and then he’d
used said pan to deliver a beating to his attackers that they would likely never forget, all the while
shouting about how they just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Frankly, Amelia thought the young man had a fair point. You-Know-Who must really be scared shitless
of the Boy-Who-Lived, to keep going after him even when Harry was fully expunged from their world. It
made Amelia wonder if maybe they needed Harry after all. The way he’d swung that pan, after all… and
honestly, he looked surprisingly rugged in that form-fitting chef’s outfit he’d had on. He was… dare she
say it… downright scrumptious.

A light blush spreads across the Head of the DMLE’s face. She’s a grown woman, a widow even, and
it’s far past her ‘due date’ when it comes to those sorts of things. Except, even if she may not be able
to have children anymore necessarily… she still has a libido. She still has desires. She’s still human, at
the end of the day.

“M-Ma’am?”

Blinking, Amelia jerks her head to look at Auror Tonks, worried that the metamorphmagus might have
read something on her face that she didn’t want seen. But no, Nymphadora isn’t looking at her. She’s
looking down and squirming as she blushes profusely, far worse than Amelia herself.

“I… uh, there’s something else. These memories… I got them from my mother.”

That rocks Amelia back in her chair. Andromeda Tonks? Why had she been there?”

“Ma’am, I’m worried we’ve invited a lion into your home. I, uh… it turns out Harry has become quite
the… quite the man-whore. He’s slept with my mum… both my aunts… and you know that Delacour witch
from France? She’s been his sponsor over there… apparently, he’s sleeping with her too! He’s fucking
them all!”

Nymphadora is practically panting by the time she’s done; eyes wide and face red. Amelia’s heart is
racing a little too as she takes in what her auror is saying to her. Invited a lion into their home indeed…
Harry was staying in the guest quarters, of course, with around the clock guard from her best people.
The fact that they were all female aurors hadn’t seemed important… until now. Amelia trusted them all
with her life, and that was the only qualifier. Now though…

“… Susan. What if he seduces Susan?”

The thought of her niece falling into that… that hunk of a wizard’s grasp causes Amelia to feel conflicted
feelings. Auror Tonks, meanwhile, is squirming, writhing even in her seat.

“M-Maybe we can… preempt him, ma’am? Maybe we can s-stop this before it even begins?”

That gets Amelia’s undivided attention, and as Nymphadora begins to speak, she nods along, listening
intently. After all, there was a lot on the line here…

-x-X-x-

Sat on the edge of a bed that’s not his own, Harry drops his head into his hands and just groans. He’d
known it was a bad idea, deep down inside. He’d known better. He never should have come back to
England. Now he was stuck here, beholden to the whims of the idiots in the Ministry and Wizengamot. At
least Madam Bones had stepped in this time. She hadn’t last time but given the turn for the better that
Harry’s life had taken after he was expelled, he couldn’t really be bothered to be mad at her for that.

Still, this was ridiculous. He’d just wanted to get the job done and get out. Hosting the Great British
Bakeoff had been Apolline’s idea more than his own, really. She told him how it would be a grand
opportunity to schmooze and mingle with chefs and the like from around the world. Now he was
beginning to wonder if that had been such a good idea. The only consolation prize was that it was being
pre-recorded, not streamed live. Otherwise, the Death Eater attack might not have been so easy to
explain away.

Now here he was, under guard in Madam Bones’ place. What was he to do with himself now? All he
wanted to do was leave the British Isles again. He’d learned his lesson finally, and he had no intentions
of ever coming back to this shithole ever again, so long as he could just get away, one more fucking
time. But it seemed that the Ministry had no intentions of letting that happen.

After so thoroughly getting rid of him, now they suddenly wanted him back where they could see him. Or
perhaps they just wanted to lock him up in Azkaban where they could throw away the key and forget him
properly, like they’d done to his godfather.

One way or another, Harry couldn’t hope to know what the future held. He knew one thing for sure
though… he couldn’t stay here. Not for long. Not and expect everyone else on the premise to survive the
resulting Death Eater attack. He was a big red target that Madam Bones had painted on her back by
placing him here under her watchful eye. He just needed-

The door suddenly opens, and Harry blinks as Susan steps in with a shy sort of smile on her face.
Susan Bones and he had never been… particularly close back at Hogwarts, being in different Houses
and all, but that didn’t mean Harry hadn’t noticed her. She was the first one from their year to… sprout
jubilees. Said jubilees are even bigger now, and Harry finds his eyes drawn down to her tits, though he
does not blush. He’s far too sexually experienced to blush at this point.

“H-Hey, Harry. I, um… I just wanted to see how you were doing…”

Scurrying across the room in a way that does impressive things to her tits (is she not wearing a bra?)
Susan sits down on the bed right next to him, sporting a bright enough blush for both of them as she
gives him a hesitant smile. He smiles right back at her, though something is pinging in the back of his
head about this whole situation.

“I’m… fine, Susan. And how have you been?”

Brightening up, Susan lets out a little laugh.

“O-Oh, you know how it is! I’m doing fine. Though I suppose Hogwarts is a lot less interesting without
you around, hehe~”

… He’d never heard Susan talk like this before. To be fair, he’d not had much interactions with her
anyways, but even still, he knew enough about her that this… this was starting to unravel before his very
eyes.

“And how’s Hannah doing?”

For a moment, Susan looks confused. Then, she pushes right on through it, beaming rather vapidly.

“Hannah is fine! Perfectly fine! I’m more worried about YOU! How are YOU doing?”

And then she reaches out and places a hand on Harry’s leg, rubbing into his thigh. Yeah, this isn’t
Susan Bones. For one thing, it was blatantly obvious she didn’t even know who Hannah Abbott was,
and even Harry, who hadn’t interacted with the Hufflepuff Witches overly much, knew that Susan and
Hannah were best friends.

Which meant that this was most likely Nymphadora Tonks. Or maybe another auror using magic, but
Harry… Harry had gotten good at seeing magic these days, his eyes having… evolved for lack of a better
word? Regardless, he could tell when someone was disguised. Except right now, this mostly looked like
the correct Susan. Which meant it was actually his metamorphmagus cousin, pretending to be Susan.
And she was currently trying to seduce him.

Well, if she was anything like her mother.

“Harry? Harry, I-mmph!”

Moving in, Harry gives Susan-Tonks a kiss right then and there. The disguised metamorphmagus moans
like a little slut and melts right into it, and in no time at all, he’s got her pinned on her back and is
snogging her senseless, his hands holding her wrists above her head as he grinds into her. In response,
she eagerly spreads her legs apart, hiking up her no doubt hastily thrown on Hogwarts robes to reveal
she’s wearing absolutely nothing else underneath.

She’s absurdly wet, so while HARRY is dry humping her, there’s certainly nothing dry about it on
Tonks’ end.

Had Andromeda told Nymphadora about what he and she had gotten up to? Or had the
metamorphmagus seen or overheard things she shouldn’t have? Either way, when Harry finally comes
up for air, he looks right down into the glazed over eyes of ‘Susan Bones’ and smirks easily.

“Nice try, Tonks.”

Her eyes go wide as he pulls away, and she quickly rises to follow him.

“W-Wait! Harry, I- you have to understand! I had orders!”

Harry just levels a disappointed frown at her.

“I’m not talking to you while you wear another woman’s face. Susan doesn’t deserve to have her
reputation ruined because you’re a harlot.”
Tonks flushes, but quickly reverts to a more familiar form… albeit, she keeps the red hair and voluptuous
body as she scowls and pouts at him mightily.

“Y-You’re one to talk, Harry! I know what you’ve done! I-!”

“You want me to do it to you too. I know, Tonks. Go on then. Get out of those robes, and I’ll give you
what you desire.”

Tonks’ mouth clicks shut audible, even as Harry stands and begins to strip down. By the time he’s
naked, so is Tonks, the lusty Auror not even trying to hide her desire now that he’s called her out.
She’s STILL a red head though, even as she moans wantonly and gropes and squeezes at her breasts
in an obvious and eager attempt to draw his eye.

Snorting, Harry climbs aboard and then abruptly grabs Tonks by the hips and rolls her over onto her
hands and knees.

“Gonna fuck you like the bitch you are, Tonks.”

And then he’s inside of her. As he expected, Nymphadora is a lot like her mother… and quickly cums on
his cock at the rough treatment, squealing and moaning wantonly as she gets fucked from behind, hard
and fast. The way her pussy is clenching and squeezing down quite rapidly and harshly around his dick
makes it clear how much she wants it. She cums fast and then keeps cumming, her body shivering and
trembling beneath Harry’s as he takes her doggystyle, pistoning in and out of her cunt from behind with
his big, fat dick.

This is the situation that another ‘interested party’ explodes into the room to find. Blinking, Harry looks
up, half-expecting to see an angry Auror about to blast him back with magic because she’d
misunderstood the situation. Instead, he’s surprised to see a very flustered, very red Amelia Bones
standing there, staring at the scene transfixed. The Madam of the House points a trembling finger at
Harry.

“H-Harry James Potter! Just w-what are your intentions towards my niece?!”

Slowly down just a little bit, but not actually ceasing with fucking Tonks doggystyle, Harry blinks as he
realizes that the metamorphmagus may not have been fibbing about it all. Maybe she WAS here on
orders from her superior after all. Still, Madam Bones is waiting for an answer. She’s not a MILF, having
never actually become a mother… but the older witch IS a total cougar, and it looks like she’s heard tale
of his exploits, if her reactions are anything to go off of.

Grinning roguishly, Harry goes with brutal honesty in his response to the Head of the DMLE.

“My intentions towards Susan Bones… I can tell you this much, Amelia. I don’t intend to do anything to
her that she doesn’t want me to do.”

His casual, carefree use of Madam Bones’ first name is a calculated risk, in Harry’s eyes. He needs to
know where he truly stands with the woman, and he needs to know yesterday. Given the way the most
powerful law enforcement official in Britain immediately begins stammering and stuttering, blushing
profusely in the face of his confidence… Harry thinks he has a pretty good idea now.

Still fucking Nymphadora from behind, Harry makes eye contact with Amelia, causing her to go still, at
the same time that he reaches forward and grabs a fistful of Tonks’ currently red hair, yanking her head
back and fucking her even harder. To Amelia, meanwhile, he gives a one-word command.

“Strip.”

He figures there’s still a good fifty-fifty chance that she’ll respond with affront and he’ll be in for a world
of hurt, given she still has a wand and he doesn’t… but it’s a coin flip that Harry is willing to make,
especially after dominating the likes of the three Black Sisters. Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa Malfoy, and
Bellatrix Lestrange had all been made into his eager little bitches.

Was it so much a stretch that Amelia would be the same? Apparently not, because while she blushes
and averts her gaze, she nevertheless begins to obey, pulling off her robes and revealing her fine-ass
cougar body to Harry’s gaze as he continues to fuck her red-haired auror on the bed. By the time
Amelia is naked and covering herself with her hands like she’s some innocent little maiden rather than
the Head of the DMLE, Harry is ready, and with a grunt, he thrusts forward and pumps a nice thick load
of cream-filling into Tonks.

As soon as he’s done, he pulls out of the fucked silly auror and slips off the bed, walking right up to
Amelia Bones, who he grabs by her auburn hair and forces to her knees. His cock slaps down across
her face, and she gasps before moaning as he feeds it into her open, willing mouth.

“That’s right, Amelia. That’s a good girl.”

She sucks him clean, and likely would have sucked him to completion, but Harry has other plans. He
uses his grip on the gorgeous cougar of a witch’s hair to pull her off his cock after a few moments and
drag her over to the bed. Tossing her onto her hands and knees right alongside her conquered auror,
Harry sinks into Amelia from behind without asking for permission or even waiting for her to beg.

He treats her like some whore… no, not just some whore, like his own personal whore. Even as he pulls
her hair back just like he did with Tonks, he’s using his free hand to spank Amelia silly.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“A-Ah~ p-please, n-not so f-fast!”

Snorting derisively, Harry just speeds up the blows, until Amelia doesn’t have time to beg him to slow
down anymore amidst all of her orgasmic squealing. She’s just like all the others, really. Is this what he
can expect from every woman that he ends up fucking? Honestly, he would have thought that at least an
auror would have some dignity and self-respect. But then, if Andromeda HAD been talking to Tonks, he
supposed he could see how she’d built up this… image of him in her head.

What excuse did Madam Bones have though? Really, the Head of the DMLE had turned out to be quite
the whorish slut, eagerly submitting to his cock and downright excited to strip and become his cum
dump. Snorting derisively, Harry keeps spanking her for her naughty behavior, and Amelia in turn keeps
squealing as she cums around his cock more than she probably has for anyone else in a long, long time.

“You’re a slut, Madam Bones. I suppose I should have guessed. I wonder if Susan is the same way.”

Amelia stiffens beneath him… and then orgasms all over his cock, even as she tries to shake her head in
desperation. Eventually, past all the sputtering and gasping and mewling, she manages to find her voice.

“P-Please… n-not Susan. L-Leave Susan out of this… she’s innocent… she’s a g-good girl…”

Harry chuckles at that and then delivers another stinging smack to Amelia’s backside.

“I’ve known some good girls in my time. It’s always the quiet ones, in my experience. I bet you were a
quiet one when you were younger, weren’t you? Bet you were the studious sort.”

Amelia hangs her head, and Harry knows he’s right on the money. She’s basically a Pureblood version
of Hermione all grown up, isn’t she? Because of her family name, she actually got somewhere in the
Wizarding World, where Hermione would have been shit out of luck regardless of the time period that
both grew up in.

Chuckling, Harry yanks Amelia’s head backwards again, forcing her spine to arch and refusing to let her
hang her head in shame as he continues to fuck her nice and hard, right alongside her insensate
subordinate.

“You want it, don’t you Amelia? C’mon! Don’t hold back on me now!”

“Y-Yes! Yes, I want it! Please keep fucking me! Oh f-fuck, it feels so good! You’re big fat cock is stirring
up my insides!”

Hearing such crass and uncouth language from the Head of the DMLE herself… it’s more than enough
to finally tip Harry right over the edge. With a groan, he fills Madam Bones with his seed just as he did
Auror Tonks. He pumps her nice and full of his cum, and in turn Amelia slumps forward, face down, ass
up in the air, moaning and mewling as his cum slowly drips out of her.

Maybe this trip to England wasn’t going to end so badly after all…

-x-X-x-

“Fuck me next, Harry! Look at me! I can be anything you want me to be! Not like this washed up old
hag!”

“O-Old hag?! N-No, fuck me next! I’m the better catch! This uppity little auror bitch can’t give you half
the things I can!”

… It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this, and yet here they were. Amelia Bones can’t help but be a little
flustered by the things spewing out of her mouth. She’s supposed to be the Head of the DMLE after all,
damn it! She’s ostensibly in charge here, or she’s supposed to be anyways. Instead, she and
Nymphadora are both kneeling on the floor, spreading their legs wide and fingering their cunts while they
play with their tits, both of them begging for Harry’s cock, for him to fuck them next.

Said cock is only inches away from their respective faces, and every once in a while in between words,
they both dart in to lick and lap at his member suggestively, trying desperately to pull his attention away
from another. Amelia knows they’re being toyed with and played, and she’s pretty sure Tonks
understands that as well. But neither of them are willing to surrender the initiative to the other.

The young metamorphmagus still has lush red locks, the sort of red hair that the Bones Family’s
witches are known for. Honestly, she could easily pass for Amelia’s actual daughter as she is right now,
adding an additional level of debauchery to the entire situation. Looking back and forth between them,
standing over them like the conquering beast of a man that he is, Harry just smirks at them both, clearly
not impressed enough with either of them yet to actually make his choice.

Desperate for it to be him, Amelia finally lunges forward and wraps her lips around his cock again. But
she doesn’t stop there. As unbecoming as it is for the Head of the DMLE to act in such a… lurid manner,
she goes further and further, until she’s choking as she forces herself to deep-throat Harry’s
magnificent member.

“Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!”

Harry groans and looks like he might actually make up his mind off of this, which prompts Tonks to move
in as well, her mouth going to his balls as she sucks and slurps at his gonads, trying desperately to
eclipse Amelia. But her lead is too vast now, and she’s sure she can beat the young upstart at this
point! Amelia’s jubilation and glee only grow as she becomes surer and surer in her victory… only for it
all to come crashing down when a familiar voice calls out in a strangled tone.

“A-Auntie Amelia? A-Auror Tonks? H-Harry?!”

Whipping her head off of Harry’s cock, drawing a disgruntled noise from the wizard that she knows
she’ll pay for later; Amelia looks back to see Susan standing there, blushing profusely and staring at all
three of them in abject shock. Amelia sees the lust and desire and arousal warring with mild horror and
disgust and trepidation in her niece’s face… and she has to admit, she’s quite glad when Susan turns
and flees from the room, because she can tell… she can tell it was a close thing!

Susan was only one step away from joining them in debauchery and depravity, and that wasn’t what the
older witch wanted for her beloved niece! Turning back, Amelia inhales Harry’s cock back down her
throat, going back to choking on his member in order to distract him from Susan’s brief appearance. As
he lays a hand down atop her head, she thinks she might just have managed it… but then he chuckles
darkly, and though he doesn’t SAY anything, she knows that he’s realized just as she has that the
apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.

… She’s going to have to invite more witches over to protect Susan’s innocence. Preferably MILFs,
based off of what Auror Tonks was saying. And she’s going to have to do so soon if she wants to keep
her niece from falling for Harry’s cock like she has.

“… Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!”

Ah, but it is such a glorious, delicious member~
 5 - Harry/Daphne/Slytherin Girls

“This affront to my House’s name CANNOT be allowed to stand! I want his head! I want him to suffer!”

The entirety of Slytherin House is in their common room right now. When Draco Malfoy, Scion of House
Malfoy, orders a House Meeting, you made sure to show up. Not out of any respect for him, but out of
respect for his resources at the very least. The only other person in Slytherin House that might be able
to even hope to defy Draco was, as everyone knew, Daphne Greengrass.

But even she was there, albeit sitting back on the couch with her legs crossed over one another and her
arms crossed over her chest looking undeniably bored out of her mind. In all honesty however, Daphne
is here for a very important reason… to try to garner intelligence.

Everyone knew who Draco was talking about. Everyone also knew why the Malfoy Scion was incensed.
Harry Potter had been expelled from Hogwarts back at the beginning of the year, but that hadn’t been
the last they’d all heard from him. The rumors coming out of France were as tantalizing and intriguing
for Daphne as they were horrifying and downright infuriating for Draco.

She was curious to find out just how Potter had trounced those Death Eaters… and even more curious to
find out the more interesting things such as how big the baguette in his pants was. If it was enough to
turn Narcissa Malfoy into a total slut for Potter Cock, then that was certainly fairly large. Rumors were
going wild about the Boy Who baked, with people whispering that Harry was rapidly becoming the Merlin
of the culinary world.

Those people were exceptionally careful with where their whispers reached, because nobody wanted to
upset Draco Malfoy. Even now, half of Slytherin were quaking in their boots as Draco ranted and raved
in the midst of them all. One poor Third Year had already been cursed for letting out a nervous titter in
the midst of one of Draco’s rambling speeches.

Daphne though, knew better. With her best friend Tracey Davis on one side of her, and the muscle of
their group, Millicent Bulstrode on her other, she was as safe as could be, the Ice Queen of Slytherin
casually watching the Dragon King hold court and make a mockery of himself in doing so.

“I want him dead! No! Alive! I want him defeated and broken before me! In fact… One Hundred
Thousand Galleons to whoever brings Harry Potter to his knees!”

THAT, however, gets Daphne’s attention. Suddenly interested, she leans forward with a decidedly
deadly smile on her beautiful face.

“Oh? Care to put that in writing, Malfoy?”

The Wizarding World was a bit of a backwards place. They were stuck in the past, but at the same time
had a continuous influx of new blood in the form of muggleborns and half-bloods with a foot or more in
the muggle world. Even as much as the Purebloods did to keep their lessers and inferiors down and at
bay, some parts of muggle culture managed to pervade into the wizarding consciousness all the same.

One of those was the phrase ‘put that in writing’. Except for Wizards and Witches, it didn’t JUST mean
drawing up a contract. Because they had magic, it could mean something else too. For a moment, Draco
glares at Daphne. For a moment, she thinks she might have called his bluff. But then, drawing his wand
from his sleeve, he swirls it in the air in front of him. Millicent and Tracey both tense up on either side of
her, but Daphne can tell he’s not casting in their direction. He’s not casting in any direction.

“On my magic, I, Draco Malfoy, solemnly swear to pay one hundred thousand galleons to the one who
can bring Potter to his knees! So mote it be!”

The deadly smile on Daphne’s face morphs into a Cheshire-like grin as everyone else in the room bears
witness to the magical verbal contract Draco has just made settling onto him like a mantle or a set of
chains. He’s locked in now, basically, and will have to pay out… to whoever can bring Harry Potter to his
knees.

Daphne had been hoping Draco would be stupid enough to repeat that very last thing he’d said in his
magical oath. Perhaps if he’d worded the contract better, she wouldn’t be as interested… but ‘to his
knees’? Daphne had some ideas for how she could arrange for that to happen. Oh yes she did…

-x-X-x-

“This is quite the party, Lady Greengrass. I must say, it’s so good to see you bringing us all together
like this.”

Smiling somewhat falsely, Daphne’s mother dips her head towards Narcissa Malfoy to acknowledge her
words, before gracefully shrugging her bared shoulders.

“Oh, I can’t take too much of the credit. It was dear Daphne’s idea. I can only support her. In the end,
it’s our young who will make up the next generation.”

As the two mature witches make light conversation at one end of the table, Daphne holds court at the
other. Every witch in Slytherin is here tonight, including those who may not be entirely loyal to her. Alas,
there wasn’t much that Daphne could do about that. Just like there wasn’t much she could do about the
rest of her undesired guests.

Everyone had received an invite, to be fair. It was just that Daphne would have preferred not having to
send some of them invites. Pansy Parkinson for one, might just tattle to Draco if the night didn’t go
exactly to plan. But on top of that, there were the women who insisted on coming along with their man.

See, Daphne’s plan was rather simple. She’d decided to throw a party at the Greengrass Manor and
hire Harry to cater it. Draco was well aware of what she was doing, but he assumed she was planning
on turning over Harry to him for the galleons and was willing to see how everything played out. Pansy
was likely his spy in that regard, to make sure Daphne didn’t betray him. Of course, when the contract
was as simple as ‘Bring Harry Potter to his knees’, Daphne wasn’t sure how she could possibly fail.
Draco WOULD be paying out before the night was done, that much was for sure.
Alas, Harry came with an entourage. Narcissa Malfoy wasn’t surprising, she’d apparently been
shacked up with Harry for months. Likewise, the oldest Delacour women, Apolline Delacour and Fleur
Delacour, were apparently Harry’s French Sponsors. However, Andromeda Tonks and Bellatrix Black
were incredibly surprising additions to their retinue. Apparently, Harry had managed through a
combination of his cooking and his cock, turn even crazy Bellatrix away from the Dark Lord madly
enough.

Daphne had drawn the line at Hermione Granger, however. And she fully intended to split the party so to
speak very soon. In fact, it was about time for the… private dessert showing that she’d arranged. Setting
down her utensils on a completely cleaned plate (Harry’s cooking truly was divine, and if she could
manage it, she would have him as her personal chef for the rest of her life) Daphne stands and nods to
the other Slytherins around her side of the table.

Tracey, Pansy, Millicent, and Daphne’s younger sister Astoria all nod back and stand up as well. As the
eyes of everyone else turn towards them, Daphne lets a small, victorious smile grace her lips.

“I believe this is where we will be bidding you all adieu. It has been a pleasure, but the dessert showing
that I paid for is for five people only. Good evening to you all.”

None of the older women at the table protest, though the looks of sheer jealousy they shoot her are
certainly invigorating. Of course, the look on Bella Black’s face is something less like jealousy and more
like murderous envy, and not quite invigorating but more… terrifying. Daphne ignores that feeling of fear
however and leads her girls as well as Pansy out of the dining room and down the hall to a sitting room.

Once they’re there, Daphne turns to the four Slytherin Witches she’s brought with her.

“Do you all understand the plan? Do I need to explain anything further? I don’t think I need to explain
what will likely happen if we fail tonight. We cannot tackle this problem head-on, not with all of those
older, more experienced witches just down the hall. We must act as thieves, as vagabonds, and steal
their precious prize out from under their noses before they ever realize what’s happening.”

Everyone nods, even Pansy who looks a bit reluctant but nevertheless on board with what they’re all
going to do. Daphne feels a small measure of relief as she gets agreement from every other witch in the
room, and not a moment too soon as well. The door that connects this sitting room to the manor’s
centralized kitchen opens up and Harry Potter dressed in a chef’s outfit walks in pushing a cart filled to
the brim with trays of different desserts, all of them equally fabulous, all of them looking incredibly
decadent, rich, and cream-filled.

Not at all put out at the sight of so many witches from the Hogwarts House that gave him so much
trouble before he was expelled, Harry grins cockily and gives them all a casual nod.

“Ladies. Dessert is served.”

As he begins to dish out the cream-filled desserts to them all, Daphne licks her lips. She’s only partially
enticed by the dessert however, which does look absolutely delicious and entirely too fattening for her.
She’s even more enticed by Harry himself, who has clearly grown up both physically and mentally since
she last saw him. Gone is the shy bespectacled Gryffindor Lion. Gone is the boy who could barely make
eye contact with her in the hallway but at the same time seemed intent on fighting some new evil year
after year.

In his place is a hunky young man with gorgeous green eyes and a megawatt smile as he hands
Daphne her dessert. Despite her Icy exterior… there’s no denying that the Greengrass Scion’s heart
skips a beat there for a moment. Around the table, the other Slytherin Witches all experience similar
moments. Even Millicent, who while no longer fat is still fairly muscular rather than lithe and feminine,
receives a warm smile along with her pastry.

Needless to say, all of them are left squirming for a moment… but it’s Pansy who’s the first to recover.

“Dinner was delicious, Potter. I imagine dessert will be even better~”

Before Potter can respond, the blonde witch rises from her seat and promptly disrobes right then and
there. While the dress she was wearing was incredibly beautiful, it was also designed for one thing and
one thing only… ease of removal. As she exposes her naked flesh to the chef in front of them all, there’s
a coy little smirk on her face. She dips a finger into her cream-filled pastry and slurps the cream off of it
as she shifts from one foot to the other, putting her body on offer.

“Like what you see, Potter? It can all be yours; you know?”

The next dip into the pastry sends Pansy’s finger downwards to her slit, where she layers the cream
over her clit as an offering. The objective is so very simple, and Daphne is affronted that Pansy so easily
saw through and co-opted Daphne’s plan. After all, if Harry kneels down right then and there and took
the offering Pansy was giving him… Draco would owe his betrothed a hundred thousand galleons.

Surging to her own feet, Daphne disrobes as well, the other Slytherin Witches jolting out of their revelry
and doing the same. As they all show off their bodies to Harry and begin partaking in the desserts,
Daphne can only hope the others will keep Pansy at bay long enough to complete her plan. If anyone is
going to make Harry kneel tonight… it’s going to be Daphne Greengrass!

-x-X-x-

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh MERLIN YOU’RE SO DEEP IN MY ASS!!!”

In the end, Daphne need not have worried. Because when Pansy sauntered up to Harry, offering her
body and her cream-coated clit for him to taste, he’d responded by dropping his chef’s apron and his
pants. In the end, it had been Pansy who’d fallen to her knees before him once she got a look at his big,
fat, juicy cock.

Admittedly, even looking at it from across the room was enough to make Daphne weak in the knees, and
a glance at the others showed they were in similar straits. While Harry had thoroughly enjoyed rubbing
his cock in Pansy’s face for a few moments while she moaned throatily, he’d ultimately tugged her
back up to her feet by her hair and then full on lifted her up into the air.

Showing off a physicality that made Daphne’s heart thump even harder in her chest, he’d spun Pansy
around, facing her away from him as he lifted her up with his arms… and then proceeded to drop her
down onto his cock. He’d pumped in and out of her pussy a few times, not even seeming to care that
he’d just robbed her of her virginity and ruined her value as a marketable Pureblood wife.

To be fair, Pansy wasn’t raising much fuss during this, she was too busy making a strange unintelligible
guttural noise in the back of her throat as her eyes rolled back in her skull and her tongue lolled out of
her mouth. The virgin witch really should have known better, but she was just so cocky and confident…
well, Harry certainly showed her when a moment later he’d pulled out of her gushing wet cunt and
slammed home into her ass instead.

With his cock sufficiently lubricated by her own pussy juices, Harry had begun bouncing Pansy up and
down on his dick… leading to the rather humiliating and shameful words coming out of Pansy’s mouth
now. As she waxes poetically about how Harry is ‘so deep in her ass’, Daphne can only touch herself
to the display and continue eating the desserts that the Boy Who Baked has prepared, thoroughly
enjoying the show as well as the incredibly delicious flavors constantly exploding in her mouth.

Chuckling a little at the words coming from Pansy’s lips, Harry reaches down and grabs her mostly
untouched pastry off the table where she’d left it. He then proceeds to shove it in Pansy’s mouth, both
silencing her and forcing her to chew through it as she gurgles and moans from around the edible gag.

“Please, Ms. Parkinson. Don’t forget your dessert~”

Harry’s teasing voice is fill with such charisma and machismo. Once again, Daphne feels weak in the
knees as she fiddles with her clit and plays with her nipples. Biting her lower lip, she looks to Astoria,
and then Tracey, and then Millicent, and comes to a decision right then and there.

The original plan had called for Daphne to get first dibs. After all, she was the Ice Queen of Slytherin, so
if anyone was going to well and truly take Harry down and bring him to his knees, it was going to be her,
right? But Pansy had tried to sneak her way into first and steal Daphne’s place at the head of the line.
Thankfully she had, quite frankly, because now Daphne Greengrass has a better idea of just what it is
that she’s facing.

As Pansy squirts her pussy juices all over the floor while cumming from the anal plundering she’s
receiving again and again, Harry’s own breathing and grunting gets a tad more ragged. A moment later,
he’s cumming inside of the Parkinson Witch’s bowels, filling her ass with his own cream filling and
leaving her a half-comatose mess as he drops her off of his cock and face down on the floor, the
delicious pastry he’d forced into her mouth still being consumed despite her fucked silly state.

His cock, still rock hard, swings towards all of them like a dangerous snake and Daphne quickly calls
out.

“A-Astoria! Clean him off with your mouth!”

“O-Okay…”

Her little sister, sacrificed to the great beast that is Harry James Potter, drops to her knees without a
single ounce of resistance or a single noise of complaint. Crawling over, the young nubile witch leans in
and begins to lap and lick at Harry’s cock like a newborn filly unsure what to do with herself, unsure
what to do with the big fat bitch breaker in front of her.

Surprisingly, Harry is quite gentle with Astoria, in comparison to how he was with Pansy. He runs his
hands through her hair and gently but firmly guides her along as Astoria stares up at him while slowly
beginning to bob up and down his length. He lets her clean him off… and then he picks her up and sits
her down on the edge of the table, where she willingly splays her legs for him as he spears forth into her.

Daphne knows she should probably be more upset that her little sister just got her virginity stolen.
Certainly, it’s much worse that a Witch of House Greengrass lost their purity then it is that Pansy
Parkinson did. But at least Astoria’s hymen wasn’t torn simply for the sake of lubing up for a round of
anal. No, Harry fucks her little sister right, much to Daphne’s mild chagrin, treating her almost lovingly
and certainly kindly as he kisses her and caresses her and eventually fills her with his cream as well.

Astoria loves every last moment of it, but it’s clear who’s in charge the entire time. It’s undeniably clear
that… that Astoria is decidedly overwhelmed, and that Harry is in control of the whole encounter. That’s
why, when he finally lets Astoria lay back on the table and rest, her sweat-covered young body quivering
from pleasure and ecstasy, Daphne calls out again, her voice starting to get slightly strained, perhaps
even just a tad panicked.

“T-Tracey… Millicent! G-Give my compliments to the cook!”

Together, the two should have been more than a match for a normal man, right? But Harry Potter was
no normal man. Right before Daphne’s eyes, she watches as her two subordinates move forward as
one… and as the Boy Who Baked somehow turns Millicent with barely a glance on Tracey. In the end,
rather than it being the two of them tag-teaming Harry, Tracey ends up held in a full nelson by Millicent
while Harry fucks into the folded up girl and alternates between kissing both of them.

He then bends Millie over the table and fucks her too after he’s done cumming inside of Tracey,
pounding the muscular witch’s pussy into the shape of his bitch breaking cock and filling her with his
cream all the same.

Finally, it’s Daphne’s turn. She feels decidedly unprepared, and it shows as her legs finally give out on
her at his approach. Much like Pansy did, she drops to her knees before him and ends up eye level with
his cock. Unlike Astoria, Harry is none-too-gentle as he gives her a knowing smile and gathers
Daphne’s hair in his hands, forcing it into a makeshift ponytail that he wraps around his fist.

“Suck.”

Daphne opens wide, and the next thing she knows is choking on the biggest cock she’s ever seen. For
all that she’s Slytherin’s Ice Queen, the young witch has absolutely no experience with sex either. She
talks a big game and acts the part of a ruler, playing the counterbalance to Draco’s madness, but in
actuality they’re both just children playing games. Daphne realizes that now, she realizes that her status
at Hogwarts, hell even her status in the British Wizarding World… it means nothing to Harry.

He’s so far beyond her now that it’s not even funny, and as he chokes her on his cock, Daphne finds
herself willingly participating in her own degradation, swirling her tongue along his glans whenever he’s
far enough back for her to do so, and writhing along the underside of his dick when he’s pounding deep
into her throat.

“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”

“I hope you’re enjoying this dessert showing, Ms. Greengrass. I pride myself in all of my clients having
an exceptionally good time.”

Daphne can’t verbally respond in the moment, too busy choking on his cock and touching herself with
both hands. She knows she’s acting the part of a wanton whore, rather than the Pureblood Scion she’s
supposed to be, but it’s just too good. It’s so good in fact that when she feels him getting closer, she
forces herself even further down his cock, eager for his seed.

When it finally comes however, the sheer explosive force of his load is enough to rock Daphne’s head
back. In the end, most of his cum ends up all over her face, ruining her as she’s coated in it from head
to chest, her entire upper body covered in sticky ropes of thick, viscous, dripping jizz.

Before she knows it, she’s up in the air, his grip on her hair allowing him to drag her up in no time. Set
down beside her sister on the table, Harry pulls Daphne’s legs up onto his shoulders and then spears
into her depths in one smooth motion. Like that, her virginity is gone. The Greengrass Heiress, the most
sought after witch in the British Wizarding World, is deflowered and defiled just like that.

Daphne can’t bring herself to care though. She’s too busy cumming her brains out. It only gets better
when Astoria rolls over onto her side and stuffs another of those delicious cream-filled desserts into
Daphne’s mouth. It combines with the slightly salty taste of Harry’s seed still on her tongue and as
Daphne chews and swallows she lets out guttural moan after guttural moan, her eyes rolling around in
her skull as she cums again and again on Harry’s cock.

Her pussy walls tighten and grip and squeeze down nice and hard on him as he pistons in and out of
her, but never once does she slow his pace. He’s like a machine, fucking her nonstop, and it’s all
Daphne can do to survive it, all she can do to endure without losing her sanity. When he finally cums
inside of her like he did the others, when he finally seeds her womb, Daphne knows without a doubt that
she’ll never be satisfied by another man ever again.

Eventually, the Greengrass girl does bring Harry to his knees funnily enough. And she’s the first one to
do so too, leaving her the one who’s capable of collecting Draco’s little bounty. Of course, the way in
which she gets Harry onto his knees is in no way going to satisfy Draco Malfoy’s hate-boner for the
other man.

After all, Harry only ends up kneeling once Daphne herself is on her hands and knees. After fucking her
face and her cunt, he drops her into that most humiliating of positions and takes her anally from behind,
his lubed up prick penetrating her bowels and leaving her howling in pleasure and pain as she
experiences her final deflowering of the evening, her final virgin hole claimed by Harry’s impressively
massive pecker.

All the others have recovered by this point and are adding more and more dessert topping to the mix.
There’s chocolate sauce all over the four witches, and while Astoria kneels down in front of Daphne and
makes her big sister lick it off of her cute little breasts, Millicent is having fun bossing around Tracey and
Tracey is having fun being bossed around. Finally, Pansy is on her hands and knees behind Harry,
licking and lapping at his ball sack and shuddering in orgasmic bliss as she fists her cunt like the broken
cum dump she’s become.

Daphne gets it now, she really does. Her original plan had been oh so simple. She was going to do what
all of those other witches down the hall in the dining room had failed to do. She was going to bring Harry
to heel, dominate him and make him into her personal servant. He would cook for her for the rest of her
days, and by bringing him to his knees, she would be the one to collect Draco’s bounty.

Draco might have even been happy with that outcome, since it would have led to Harry’s humiliation
and subservience. Or he might not have been happy, but he would have been forced to accept it at
least, since Daphne would never have parted ways with her talented chef after finding out how good a
cook he was.

But on her hands and knees getting butt fucked like there’s no tomorrow, Daphne Greengrass realizes
how stupid and naïve and childish her plan was. If none of the older, more experienced witches could
take Harry down, what in fucking hell made her think she could? She was overconfident and arrogant,
and now she was paying the price. Of course, that price was incredibly pleasurable, so she really
couldn’t complain.

Harry wasn’t the kind of wizard OR chef who could possibly be contained or imprisoned or tamed. He
was undeniably too much for any witch to handle, for any five witches to handle even. Daphne… Daphne
was content just being here in this moment, getting to experience his indescribable cooking, his
incomparable desserts, and his undeniably incredible cock in all of its phallic glory.

And even if it wasn’t the way she’d planned it, she HAD still managed to complete Draco’s challenge.
She could feel it, as one of the people that had been there when Draco had made the magical verbal
contract, she now had the right to collect on it. All she had to do was go to Draco and demand that he
pay up, and he would be forced to on pain of losing his magic.

Now, one might question what Daphne Greengrass was going to do with a one hundred thousand
galleons. If one had to ask that question however, they clearly weren’t paying much attention. What else
was she going to spend it on but the man currently plowing her ass to kingdom cum?

Daphne was already positively orgasming at the idea of just how much catering one hundred thousand
galleons would get her. She might not be able to own Harry, she might not be able to secure him as her
personal chef… but she would damn sure aim to monopolize as much of his time as possible and make
him as rich as possible in the process.

The fact that she’d be paying Harry to feed and fuck her with Draco’s money… was just icing on top of
the cake.
 6 - Harry/Emma Granger/Hermione

“Christ, honey, don’t you think this place is much too expensive?”

“Ugh, dad… I already told you both I’d be paying for everything. You don’t need to worry about the
prices, just try and enjoy yourself!”

“Uh-huh…”

Not for the first time, Hermione regrets having to bring her father along. With the end of the school year,
Hermione had wanted to celebrate her stellar grades… more than that, with Harry opening up another of
his restaurants in London, it had seemed like a great place to go. She was technically lying about one
thing; she didn’t have to pay a single dime for any of the food they would be served tonight.

Hermione Granger ate for free at any of Harry’s restaurants, that was the rule, along with his other
favorite girls. But of course, Hermione hadn’t wanted to give her father any bigger of a head than he
already had over this entire outing. Chez Apolline, the name of Harry’s restaurant, was the newest
addition to London’s fanciest and most expensive establishments. It was also getting rave reviews in
practically all of the newspapers save for the sensationalist and nationalist tabloids.

But even the latter couldn’t find anything actually WRONG with the restaurant. They merely pointed to
the fact that Harry had gotten his start over in France as some sort of black mark against his record, like
English Food was inherently better than French Food or something. Never mind that Harry wasn’t
French himself, and his menu was a diverse set of options from a number of different cultures. As far as
they were concerned, because Chez Apolline had started in France, it was their duty as ‘patriots’ to shit
all over it.

No one paid much mind to those sorts of rags anyways though… except for her father, unfortunately.
While Emma Granger, Hermione’s mother, had been shocked and thrilled to hear they would be dining
at Chez Apolline for the evening, Hermione’s father had been less thrilled and more… antagonistic about
the whole affair then anything.

The only reason he’d even let this outing happen was that Hermione had promised to pay for all of it,
despite the fact that their parents were fairly well-off dentists who certainly could have afforded one night
at Chez Apolline as a special occasion without bankrupting themselves. But whatever, it wasn’t like
Hermione actually had to pay a dime.

Unfortunately, the dinner only gets worse from there, her father’s initial bellyaching about price upon
seeing the menu only graduating into further bellyaching about just about everything he could take issue
with. Despite how delicious the food was, despite how amazing the décor, despite them being out as a
family for the first time in months thanks to the school year finally being over, her dad was refusing to
have a good time.

Worse still, he couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. Chez Apolline was filled with beautiful women by due
course. Many were there on the arms of their husbands, sure, but many more were there solely to try
and catch a glimpse of the restaurant’s owner and chef. Harry was in the back, cooking, Hermione was
sure of that, and so, apparently was half of the restaurant’s clientele. While women of all ages were
constantly glancing over to the kitchen doors as if they might catch a glimpse of the chef, Hermione’s
father was unabashedly ogling those women, enjoying the sight of hot MILFs and tight young tarts all
equally vying for their shot at Harry.

It was enough to make Hermione bristle in indignation if she was being honest… no, more than that. It
was enough for her to decide to put her plan into action. That’s why she finally gave the signal to Fleur,
the veela off to the side arching an eyebrow and smirking evilly once Hermione finally gave her the go
ahead.

The instant that Hermione’s father made eye contact with Fleur, he was lost in the veela’s allure,
overwhelmed by her aura. Without saying a word, he stood up and began walking over to her.

“Frank? Frank, where are you going?”

Hermione’s mother Emma looks baffled and confused at his sudden strange departure, but he just
waves her off, not even looking back at her as he keeps his gaze solely focused on Fleur Delacour, the
beautiful veela luring him in. Normally, Hermione would be furious, but she’d asked for this. She wanted
this to happen. She wanted her dad… out of the picture.

And so, she places a hand on her mother’s arm to keep Emma from rising to follow her husband, and
lets her mom watch as her father approaches the alluring younger model that actually looks a lot like his
secretary… if she were secretly a magical creature that had an all-natural ethereal beauty to her, rather
than relying on loads of makeup and some choice plastic surgery.

Leaning in close with a dopy grin on his face, Frank Granger whispers something in Fleur’s ear.
Immediately, the coy, beckoning smile drops from the beautiful veela’s face and she goes from happy to
absolutely furious in no time flat. Grabbing Frank by the shoulders, she knees him in the groin and then
slaps him across the face, raising her voice in indignation.

“’Ow DARE you! Security!”

Within moments, Frank is being escorted back by their table to gather his things. The man looks
positively aggrieved, purpled and red with embarrassment as he refuses to meet either of their gazes.

“C-C’mon ladies, we’re leaving. This place is a shithole anyways.”

The security guards frog-marching him exchange a look at that, but Hermione just smiles sweetly and
shakes her head.

“You know what, daddy. I don’t think we will. I think mama and I will stay and enjoy the rest of our
lovely meal. We’ll see you back home.”

Perhaps realizing how much of a fool he’d made of himself already, perhaps noticing the absolute
deathly silence from his wife and the frosty look she was giving him, Frank Granger doesn’t fight his
daughter on this, in the end. In moments, he’s escorted out of the restaurant and things quiet back
down as everyone goes back to their meals, tittering about ‘dinner AND a show’.

Hermione, needless to say, doesn’t hesitate to start making sure her mother has a good time
regardless. Plying Emma Granger with lots of wine, making sure she tries ALL of Hermione’s favorites
from Harry’s catalog. Once Frank is out of the way, both his daughter and his wife are able to truly relax
and have an absolutely phenomenal time with one another.

Hermione regales her mother with all sorts of tales from her time at Hogwarts, while Emma talks about
her hardest and most difficult dentistry cases. And before either of them knows it, the hours have gone
by, and the restaurant is all but closed up. Emma had noticed things were seemingly shutting down
before, but when she pointed that out to Hermione, her daughter simply told her not to worry about it,
that she was personal friends with the owner and that they were just fine.

When no one told them to leave, Emma slowly but surely relaxed, until finally here they were… tipsy,
even drunk on Emma’s part, and all alone in the center of the now-empty restaurant. All those girls, all
those women, all those MILFs and skanky wives who’d wanted to try to get a piece of Harry… all of them
have completely struck out.

Hermione knows this, because they never had a chance in the first place. From the moment she told him
she was coming by; Harry had set aside this night especially for her. If things had worked out, Hermione
would have sent both of her parents alone without her… but now, she was going to go for broke and see
if she could help her mother find the happiness she’d been missing for years and years.

“Mrs. Granger and Ms. Granger. I hope you’ve enjoyed your time in Chez Apolline.”

And there he finally is, arriving from the back with his arms laden with trays of desserts in all sorts.
Emma’s drunken gaze alights upon them, and then upon him. Hermione is watching closely as her
mother swallows thickly, taken aback by Harry’s handsomeness. Her aged up best friend is looking just
as rugged as usual, and as scrumptious and ready to eat up as the desserts he places on the table in
front of them.

“O-Oh! You’re… you’re Harry Potter, the most recent winner of the Great British Bakeoff! Wait… Harry
Potter… H-Hermione, s-surely not YOUR Harry Potter, r-right?”

Giving her befuddled mum a grin, Hermione just slowly nods, watching as the cogwheels turn in
Emma’s head… only to stop, gummed up by the simple visual difference in ages between her daughter
and her daughter’s supposed best friend.

“But… I thought Harry was the same age as you, Hermione?”

Taking mercy on her confused mother, not wanting to give Emma a headache, Hermione reaches out a
places a hand on her hand.

“He’s in hiding, mum. Sort of. It’s an aging potion. He’s my age, but no one would take him seriously if
he looked it. So instead, he looks this old because this is what the outside world has come to expect him
to look like.”
Staring at Harry as he looks back at her with a wicked smile and glittering, twinkling green eyes, Emma
Granger blushes profusely.

“Y-You never said he was so… so handsome.”

Smirking, Hermione doesn’t get offended or embarrassed by her mother’s words like she might
normally have. After all, this was all going according to plan.

“I’m pretty sure I mentioned his looks, mom.”

“… W-Well your description didn’t do him justice! A-Ahem… it’s very nice to m-meet you, Chef Potter.
Watching your work on the Great British Bakeoff was… certainly a treat and a half.”

Blinking at the incandescent blush on her mother’s face, Hermione has an epiphany. Her mother… her
mother had most definitely jilled off to fantasies involving Harry Potter in his aged-up persona. Holding
back the urge to cackle like a mad woman, Hermione nevertheless shoots a gleeful look in Harry’s
direction. This just might be easier than she thought!

Harry shoots an amused look back at Hermione, before taking Emma Granger’s hand and kissing the
back of it.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Granger. Your daughter has saved my hide more than a few times… I’m
lucky to have her as a friend. And if we’re going to talk about descriptions not doing justice… why,
Hermione, you never told me your mother was such a fox?”

“O-Oh, you~”

Hermione just grins and watches the sparks fly. Harry is good at what he does, and what he does is
bake, cook, and bag women. In particular, he’s got a strong track record with MILFs, and Hermione’s
mom CERTAINLY falls under that category. Emma Granger has held up surprisingly well for a muggle
woman, and in Hermione’s humble opinion, is entering pure cougar territory. It’s just unfortunate that
Hermione’s father can’t see what a good thing he has and is too obsessed with newer and shinier
models.

Hermione’s mom is aging like fine wine, and Harry at least seems to appreciate that, if the way he’s
effortlessly seducing Emma is anything to go by. All Hermione has to do is sit back and watch it happen…
until eventually it becomes obvious that her mother would have already fallen to Harry’s wiles if not for
Hermione’s presence. It’s increasingly clear from the glances of shame and embarrassment that the
older Granger woman keeps throwing her way that she doesn’t think Hermione will approve.

Well, they’re both drunk enough by now to have some fun, right? Standing up, the younger of the two
Granger girls reaches down and without a word, shucks her shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing
but her bra. Emma gasps at her as Hermione grins, looking embarrassed and shocked on her behalf.

“Hermione!”
“What, mom? Can’t do jello shots with a shirt on, now can you~”

Emma sputters and gasps but doesn’t raise a fuss as the jello shots are brought out and Harry takes
one straight out of Hermione’s belly button. Once THAT doesn’t drive Emma away, it’s surprisingly
easy to coax her mom up onto the table to do the exact same, her blouse coming unbuttoned if not all
the way off her shoulders, and her flexible body being revealed along with her own belly button.

One belly button jello shot for Mrs. Granger later and she’s writhing and wiggling as Harry goes lower
and lower, until he’s pulling down her pants and panties. The MILF helps him out, kicking them off of
her legs and then spreading them, seemingly unable to hold back her desires anymore. And so,
Hermione finds herself holding one of her mother’s hands as Harry puts his parseltongue to use on
Emma Granger’s pussy down below, going to town on her cunt with his mouth and tongue.

With her free hand, Emma alternates between covering her mouth and her eyes, whimpering and
moaning and mewling as she quivers and trembles under the onslaught being delivered unto her by
Harry James Potter. As someone who knows exactly what her mother is currently experiencing… and
finds it incredibly hot to watch, even if she’s not getting to take part, Hermione bites her lower lip and
gives her mom’s hand a comforting squeeze.

Glancing over at her, Emma groans and hides her face again.

“O-Oh. Oooh… w-what you must think of me, darling. I’m… I’m a scarlet woman, a-aren’t I?”

Scoffing at that, Hermione leans in close and whispers in her mother’s ear, even as she meets Harry’s
green gaze just over the top of Emma’s mound and gives him a slight nod. The dark-haired chef
immediately begins to go even harder on dear Emma, his tongue driving DEEPER into her than ever
before and providing Hermione’s hissed words with more impact as Emma moans wantonly and loudly.

“You’re not a scarlet woman, mother, you’re just a woman. A woman who has needs. A woman who
has been neglected by her oafish husband for long enough. It’s alright… I don’t think any less of you.
Harry is VERY good at what he does, and I love him for it more than I can even put into words. Just… let
go. Give in, and he’ll show you the stars.”

A combination of Hermione’s pep talk and Harry’s tongue is enough to make Emma Granger finally let
go. The brunette MILF lets out a throaty moan, her body quivering as she cums upon Harry’s tongue,
orgasming all over his face. The bright-eyed young man just keeps going, even using his fingers on her
clit and anus to amplify the experience beyond belief. Soon enough, Emma is squealing into
Hermione’s arms as her daughter cradles her mother’s head in her lap.

Grinning, Hermione sets about making them all a bit more comfortable, pulling off her own bra first, and
then helping Emma out of her bra next. With those gorgeous tits of hers bared, Emma’s chest begins to
move a lot more, bouncing and jiggling freely now that it’s no longer confined in her bra. Emma herself
can only gasp and groan as she looks down at where Harry is positively drilling into her with his tongue.
He’s just eating her out, but it’s obvious to Hermione from the look on her mother’s face that she feels
like she’s already getting fucked.

Little does she know.

Grinning, Hermione watches as Harry drives Emma to orgasm after orgasm, before finally pulling back
and licking his lips with a grin. As he rubs soothing circles into the MILF’s thighs with his thumbs, Harry
raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Should I continue, Mrs. Granger?”

“Y-Yes! I mean… yes, please…”

Blushing bright crimson, Emma acts very subdued as Harry unbuckles his belt and yanks down his own
pants. She continues to be subdued until she finally lays eyes on the successful chef’s big fat cock. At
that, her eyes go absolutely wide and Hermione’s mother gapes as her jaw drops open in shock.

“T-That… how will it ever fit?!”

Giggling knowingly, Hermione runs a hand through her mother’s hair, petting it gently.

“Not to worry, mama. It’ll fit. That’s what all of the foreplay was for~”

As Harry teases Emma’s entrance with his cockhead, as he toys with her dripping, gushing wet pussy
lips, the MILF looks up into her daughter’s eyes and whimpers.

“I never… I’ve never had a man this big before, darling. He’s g-going to split me in half.”

Leaning in close, so that their lips are mere inches apart, Hermione responds in a husky, thoroughly
aroused tone.

“Good. Let him, mama. Let him show you the pleasure you’ve been missing out on all this time. You
deserve so much better than dad.”

Before Emma can respond, Harry decides that that’s as good a time as any to thrust forward, claiming
the MILF’s tight wet pussy for himself right then and there. Emma Granger is by no means a virgin, but
she might as well be before Harry’s mammoth-sized member. Her pussy walls nevertheless spread nice
and wide, giving way before him and allowing him to drive DEEP into her without hesitation and without
reservation.

Emma tosses her head backwards and arches her spine with a wanton moan, her sizable jiggling tits
jutting up into the air as a result. Needless to say, Harry isn’t about to let such an opportunity pass him
by. As he begins to fuck Emma right there on the table in the middle of the empty restaurant, he reaches
out and grabs her bests, groping and squeezing them, molding them and kneading them in his hands.

Then, as Emma is bucking her hips wildly like a woman possessed rather than the highly respected
dentist everyone knows her as, Harry leans forward and puts his mouth on one nipple and then the
other, sucking and slobbering at both of her sensitive teats. The gorgeous MILF squeals and orgasms
explosively all over Harry’s thrusting cock, but while that’s the first time she cums specifically upon his
dick, it’s far, FAR from the last.
Again, and again Harry plunges into Emma Granger, and again and again she climaxes for him as he
attacks her tits with his mouth, tongue, and teeth, and as he plugs up her cunt with his rock-hard cock.
His meat rod drills DEEPLY into her, and Emma can’t get enough of it.

Neither can Hermione, if she’s being totally obvious. The younger of the two Granger women watches
on as Harry goes to town on her mother. After a little while, she slowly pulls away from Emma, resting
the older woman’s head down on the table so it doesn’t bang painfully, and slipping off so that her lap
is no longer there for her mother to rest upon.

Instead, Hermione goes about stripping down the rest of the way to her birthday suit, getting fully naked
and beginning to touch herself to the sight of Harry going to town on her own mother. Call her a pervert if
you wanted to, call her a deviant… but honestly? Watching the aged-up version of her best friend fucking
her gorgeous mom like there was no tomorrow? It was easily one of the hottest, sexiest fucking things
she’d ever seen.

Hermione could have sat back and watched Harry go to town on her mom forever, but truth be told, she
wanted to eventually get in on the action as well. And so, she drops to her knees between Harry’s legs
and begins to put her tongue to good use, slurping and lapping at his bouncing, swinging ball sack as he
slides in and out of her gushing wet mother.

It’s salty and sweet down there, a combination of his sweat and her mother’s pussy juices. And
Hermione, perverted, debauched little whore that she is, swallows it all down, swirling her tongue this
way and that as she gurgles in helpless, hopeless delight. The noises she’s making are humiliating and
embarrassing to say the least… but luckily, they’re easily drowned out by Emma’s own vocal voice.

“H-Harder! Fuck me harder you big, dicked b-bastard! Fill me with your cream! Turn me into one of your
pastries! Stuff me like a f-fucking turkey!”

It seems without Hermione in line of sight, Emma Granger is more willing to talk dirty… though all of her
lines are a little cheesy and all of them are based around food. Still, none of it stops Harry from pounding
her into the table, fucking her as hard and fast as he can, his balls churning as Hermione licks and
slurps at them greedily and giddily.

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, with Emma practically half-passed out anyways and almost
entirely incoherent, Harry cums. He grunts as he thrusts forward one final time and fills Emma’s womb
with his seed. It’d been a request from Hermione that he hadn’t been sure if he was going to fulfill or
not, but then he’d seen what Frank Granger was really like, and heard Emma beg for it, beg for his
seed.

And so, he creampies her like he has several other women, both married and not. He fills Emma
Granger with his virile, sticky cum, very aware that he might be giving Hermione a little sister or brother
in that moment. And only once he’s done does he pull out of Emma, leaving the MILF panting heavily
and shaking and trembling with the aftershocks of her final explosive climax.

Meanwhile, the instant there’s enough room between the two of them, Hermione pops up from where
she was on her knees and turns away from Harry, bending over at a ninety-degree angle to bring her
mouth in line with her own mother’s cunt.
“S-Sweetie?!”

Looking up into Emma’s eyes, Hermione’s own gaze twinkles with impish delight as she delivers a
long, slow lick to her own mother’s cunt, working her way up the slit and catching more than a little of
Harry’s cum in the process as it starts to leak out.

“O-Oh fuck…”

Hermione, as it turned out, was decidedly THIS kind of pervert as well. As she begins to eat out her own
mom of Harry’s thick, hot, creamy load, she doesn’t leave him out of things either. Bent over in front of
him, the naked muggleborn witch shakes her gorgeous, peach-shaped behind in Harry’s direction,
wiggling her hips back and forth from side to side and then up and down, positively twerking in order to
draw his eye… and get him to go for Round Two with her.

His cock grows rock hard in no time at all, and with a lustful growl Harry reaches out and grabs
Hermione by the hips, dragging himself forward while pulling her back onto his cock. He spits her open
from behind upon his dick, filling her sopping wet snatch to the bursting with his entire length in one fell
swoop.

Hermione moans into Emma’s pussy at that, sending reverberations up through the older Granger
woman’s cunt that seem to shatter and break off the last bits of awkward reluctance from the gorgeous
MILF. Letting out a positively sinful and wanton moan of her own, Emma’s hand comes down atop her
daughter’s head… and drags Hermione in deeper, forcing her to eat Harry’s creampie out of her own
mother all the faster.

And so, Emma and Harry spit-roast Hermione between the two of them for some time like that, him
fucking her forward into Emma’s cunt as the older woman gasps and groans and moans, humping her
own daughter’s face. Hermione, for her part, gets very messy very quickly, but she doesn’t mind, not
one bit. In fact, she loves every last bit of it. She loves the cum sliding down her throat as she tongues
out her mother, she loves the big fat cock pistoning in and out of her sopping sex.

Most of all, Hermione loves the look of pure, unadulterated and unrestrained ecstasy that she sees on
her mother’s face every time she glances up the length of Emma Granger’s body to gaze at her. It’s
the happiest that Hermione has seen her mom in years, and if this is what it takes for Emma to be
happy, if this is what her mother needs in order to be content, then Hermione is happy too.

Her dad didn’t deserve her mom, full stop, and so Hermione couldn’t feel bad about facilitating Emma
cheating on him. Especially when her mom was cheating on her dad with Harry of all people. If there
was anyone in the whole world worth cheating with, it was Harry James Potter, something that a number
of witches of all ages would agree with Hermione on, she was pretty sure!

Eventually, Harry cums inside of Hermione as well. He fills her to the brim with his seed and then some,
pumping a nice thick load of jizz right into her womb. From there, Hermione drags Emma down off of the
table, and mother and daughter both drop to their knees in front of Harry’s messy flagging cock as they
begin to work it over lovingly and sluttily with their moaning mouths wide open and their tongues
wagging about along his shaft.
 They end up kissing one another around his cockhead more than once, their tongues swapping spit as
they travel up and down his girthy penis. But in the end, it’s all about him and his dick, until finally their
dual fellatio yields results and he cums all over their faces, leading to the mother-daughter duo cleaning
each other off with their mouths and tongues.

All in all, it’s a great night for Hermione and her mom. Her dad might not have had such a good time,
but he’d ruined the night for himself before they’d even come. There would always be the naysayers
who would try to shit on Chez Apolline and make excuses for why it wasn’t as good as it actually was.
There would always be assholes who were jealous of Harry’s success. Even without knowing how
young he actually was, they were still angry that a young man like him could be so good at what he did.

It made them feel old and that made them bitter, ultimately resulting in their own misery and bad times.
But Hermione and Emma Granger came away from the experience like so many other women…
positively fulfilled and looking forward to the next time more than anything in the whole wide world.

Powered by TCPDF (www.tcpdf.org)