Chapter 135: School Spirits (Harry Potter)
A/N: School Spirits was a commission originally written back in March of 2019. Posting it up now for people to enjoy!
Themes: Transformation Sex, Rough Sex, Big Dick
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The Battle of Hogwarts had taken a lot out of everybody. It had taken even more out of one Harry James Potter. After all, out of everyone who had fought, Harry found himself falling into both sides of the equation, annoyingly enough. For everyone else, it was simple. They'd either died, or they'd lived. Only Harry was forced to suffer both. He'd lived, he'd died, and he'd lived again.
Resurrection tended to take a lot out of people, so after the clean-up and the brief mourning, while everyone else had moved onto celebrating, Harry had been ushered off to bed, escorted up to his old dorm and left to fall in an exhausted heap into his old bed. House Gryffindor was his protector now… and perhaps something more besides. The Hero of Wizarding Britain had done his duty. The Boy-Who-Lived had become the Man-Who-Won (not that Harry would appreciate ANY more hyphenated titles after how they'd dominated his life up to this point)
Was he not due a reward? Was he not due some respect? There were those that had looked after Harry his entire life. Some were dead, some were living. But then, there were some that were in between, neither living nor dead by the mortal interpretation. These were the beings that had looked after Harry in secret, that had watched him grow in the time since he'd come to Hogwarts. Perhaps it was finally time to come out to play.
While the Hero of Wizarding Britain slept and everyone else partied like they'd just managed to escape the end of the world, something distinctly other was taking shape, right beside Harry's bed. This shape was distinctly feminine, filling out in all the right ways. Eventually, it leans forward, and a slim hand reaches out to caress Harry's cheek for a moment. The exhausted wizard groans in his sleep, but leans into the caressing touch, nuzzling it instinctively.
After a few seconds of this, the hand pulls away, Harry's brow furrowing in disappointment even as his eyes remain closed. Delicate, feminine fingers curl around the top of the blanket covering Harry and begin to pull it back. Bit by bit, the blanket is removed. Beneath it, Harry is naked. It made sense, after all. He really didn't have the strength for a bath, and the fear of passing out and drowning in the tub was a real one given the sheer depth of his exhaustion.
But at the same time, the clothes he'd stumbled into his dorm in were the same that he'd died in, the same that he'd fought in. Needless to say, Harry had no desire to stay IN them after all was said and done. So, once he'd been led to the dorm and then left to sleep, Harry had taken out the Elder Wand and used it once more, this time to vanish the offending garments. THEN, he'd collapsed forward into his bed and almost instant slumber, barely sparing enough time to pull a simple blanket over himself.
Said blanket is gone now though, drawn back as a pair of eyes gaze upon Harry's huge cock, completely soft at the moment, draped over his thigh. An approving croon emits from the mysterious feminine figure at the sight of that big, fat dick. Red lips are licked hungrily, before stretching wide open and slowly moving forward.
It's in that moment that Harry wakes up, emerald eyes snapping open and his body moving without his conscious input. A hand closes around a throat, and before Harry even knows what's happening, he's spun the figure leaning over him around and pinned them down to the bed, the Elder Wand held in his opposite hand and pointed right beneath the attacker's chin.
Of course, when Harry's vision finally fully clears and he actually gets a real look at who he's dealing with, he's not expecting to see… what he sees. His first instinct is to think it's his mother. But it's not. Sure, she has the red hair he's seen in photos of Lily Potter, a gorgeous deep vivid red that's more like the Gryffindor House Colors than the Weasley Orange. It's a royal red, essentially.
But then, there's her eyes. Rather than green orbs staring up at Harry, he finds himself looking down at a golden gaze. And it's not just that her pupils are gold. Every bit of her eye is gold, and shining at that, glowing even. Those glowing golden eyes make it clear that he's not dealing with something human. Harry knows that in an instant.
"That's it lad! Up and front, the way a Gryffindor should be!"
Harry's gobsmacked when she finally speaks though. Slightly Scottish, but in the hottest possible way, and distinctly assertive. Her grin is particularly savage, as if she could care less that he has his wand point pressing into her chin… and his cock, pressing into her belly. Harry belatedly remembers he's naked as his length grows a little hard at the sheer feel of her toned stomach beneath him.
But he's dealt with enough tricks and treachery not to fall for anything so silly and simple as embarrassment. He's not going to give up the advantage just because he's poking his attacker in two places instead of the intended one.
"Who… who are you?"
The red head pauses for a moment, seeming to consider that. He wonders what it says about her identity that she's having to think so long and hard.
"I suppose I'd be the physical manifestation of the genius loci built into the foundations of the Gryffindor Tower."
"… What?"
A wicked grin spreads across the golden-eyed goddess' face.
"Ever heard of House Spirit, lad?"
Harry frowns and slowly nods.
"Congratulations! You're looking at the Spirit of Gryffindor!"
The worst thing is, he actually believes her. Nothing she's saying is a lie, somehow Harry can just tell. Why can he just tell? Brow furrowed, Harry pulls back, letting the strange red head up. She hops out of the bed and Harry sits down on the edge, even as she poses in front of him, fists on her hips and chest jutting out.
She's dressed in very skimpy chainmail, now that he's able to get a full look at her. It's quite literally a chainmail bikini, from what Harry can see. Though he won't lie, she definitely pulls it off with ease. Licking his lips, he tries to think of another question, but it's a little hard now that he's got her whole visage displayed before him. Luckily, the Spirit of Gryffindor is content to continue explaining.
"It's rather simple, lad. You died saving this castle from that creature. Tom Riddle made himself hated for the things he brought upon this castle while he was a student here… I can only imagine what he would have done if he'd had permanent control over what went on within these walls. The castle recognizes your victory. I recognize your bravery. Did you really think that Hogwarts would let its Champion go unrewarded?"
Harry brings his hands up and rubs his face with both for a moment, before grinding the heels of both his palms into his eyes. When he pulls them away though, having rubbed the hell out of his eye sockets, the golden-eyed, red-haired vision of beauty is still standing in front of him. It's a little hard to believe, but now that she's explained properly, he can finally feel why it is that he does in fact believe her implicitly.
He's bonded to Hogwarts. He can feel it, in the back of his mind, niggling away. The castle is tied to him now, and if it has indeed claimed him as its Champion… well, that makes plenty of sense, he supposes. At least, it explains why he can feel so much going on around him, why he can tell that the 'Spirit' in front of him is basically telling the truth about what she is.
But he's still skeptical. Or maybe… just tired.
"What do you want from me? What does Hogwarts want from me?"
For a moment, the golden-eyed goddess looks flummoxed.
"Want from you? No, lad. We want to give back to you. This is about repaying you for all you've done for the castle, for all you've done for Hogwarts."
Harry offers a wan smile in response.
"Pull the other one."
The flummoxed expression is replaced with righteous indignation. But then even that is tempered by understanding pity.
"You've been through a lot, lad. More than most should have to go through. Your distrust is understandable. But… I'm not here to make you do anything. I'm only here to offer you your reward. As the Spirit of Gryffindor, I can be anything you want me to be."
Harry just frowns, not sure what to say to that. But the chance to do so is taken out of his hands a moment later when the red head demonstrates, flawlessly shapeshifting from her golden-eyed form to… a very naked, smiling Hermione. Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of his skull at that, and his cock very much begins to leap to attention at the absolutely gorgeous sight of his best friend. At the same time though, a spark of shame hits Harry and he blushes profusely, already preparing to duck his head.
But it's hard to look away when she doesn't stop there. Hermione shifts into Lavender Brown, the gorgeous blonde bombshell just as naked, just as smiling. Lavender Brown becomes Parvati Patil. Parvati Patil becomes Ginny Weasley. Ginny Weasley becomes another witch with vivid red hair and green eyes that Harry ultimately recognizes as his mother, but younger. Lily Evans, before she became Lily Potter.
From there, it gets even more ridiculous. Lots of red hair though, because the next woman after his mom is Molly. This one takes him even longer to recognize though, as it's not Molly Weasley, mother of over half a dozen children, but Molly Prewett, young witch in the prime of her life, bustier than Lavender with a tight waist and the widest birthing hips Harry has ever seen. After figuring out who Molly and Lily were, it's not quite so hard to recognize a young Minerva McGonagall, buxom and smoking hot, with a severe look that just makes her all the more gorgeous in her tight, fit body.
The final woman though, Harry doesn't recognize at all. Except, upon staring at her in confusion, the castle bubbles up with the knowledge, his connection and bond to Hogwarts affording him the right to know exactly who he's looking at. Isabelle Gryffindor, Godric's slim, fiery wife. With her lips curled into a smile and her eyes glittering with mischief, Harry could well imagine that this was a woman who would have given the Marauders a run for their money, had they not all lived a millennium apart.
Licking his lips, Harry can only stare, his mouth open but no words coming out of it. Giggling impishly, the Spirit of Gryffindor as Isabelle Gryffindor saunters up to him, closing the distance between them once more and climbing into his lap, her knees coming to rest on the bed on either side of him. His cock, now completely erect, ends up trapped between their bodies, but her glistening wet pussy lips rub along his length anyways.
"I think you like me best as this, so why don't we start off here, hm? Would you like that, Harry?"
Her personality has changed a bit. No more 'lad', and suddenly a lot more mischievous than aggressive. Though at the same time, that impishness seems to lead to her being rather assertive all the same. Still, when Harry reaches out and grabs Isabelle by her slim waist, she gasps and arches her back, moaning and mewling.
He lifts the petite form of Godric Gryffindor's wife up and fits the head of his cock against her entrance, almost as if he's in a trance. Then, once he's firmly lodged inside, Harry drops her. Isabelle cries out, and her head tilts backwards as she does so, directing the noise up towards the ceiling of the dorm room. Harry, meanwhile, groans and brings his face forward, resting his forehead against the witch's chest.
Isabelle Gryffindor was not overly well-endowed in the chest region, but she made up for that by having a truly big behind, which even now his hands were digging into as he began to bounce her up and down on his cock, still in that trance. It felt almost like he was having an out of body experience. Surely, Harry wouldn't normally be doing something like this… but after dying and coming back, after beating Voldemort, after saving the day… didn't he DESERVE something like this?
On top of having a rather large bubble butt, Isabelle also had an insanely tight cunt. Though whether that was the actual woman herself or just a feature that the Spirit of House Gryffindor decided to include, Harry couldn't have said. Either way, he goes back letting the gorgeous witch ride him to kingdom cum. Her insides clench and squeeze around his cock as she bounces up and down in his lap. Her breasts, as slight as they are, jiggle and wiggle right in front of his face, leaving Harry with no choice but to lavish them with love and praise… mostly by using his tongue, rather than his words. He slurps and sucks at her titties to his heart's content, and Isabelle moans in response, her slender fingers lacing through his messy black hair and pulling him all the closer.
She cums, around his cock. Harry can't help but be a little surprised at that. Having her inner walls flex and squeeze all the tighter because she's orgasming from the pleasure of being fucked by him… it's a major confidence for the young wizard, who up until now, has indeed been a virgin. There just wasn't time, not with how hectic practically his entire life has been. Oh sure, maybe he's had fantasies here and there, and he HAS kissed a few girls at least, but sex?
It's something alien to him, something he's never experienced before now. Which is why it feels so odd that he's so good at it, right off the bat. Not that Harry is complaining, neither about the sex or about his unearned skill at the activity. No, this feels amazing… he honestly wishes he'd hopped on board ages ago. Even still, he is a young man with a hair-trigger. Her climax, the clenching of her quim around his cock… it's all Harry needs, to go right over the edge.
He explodes inside of Isabelle Gryffindor, and fills her womb with his seed, to the absolute brim. She cries out in response, moaning lewdly and wantonly, and once again Harry has to wonder how much of that is Isabelle, and how much is the genius loci currently mimicking her. Regardless, she slides off of his cock a moment later and climbs off of him entirely, biting her lower lip as she gives him a wicked little grin and reaches down to spread her pussy lips open.
Harry watches as his cum drips from her freshly fucked cunt, and his cock grows hard in moments at the sight. Even knowing that this was once another man's wife, even knowing that this was once Godric Gryffindor's wife… there's no denying that it was incredibly hot, seeding the gorgeous slim witch like he had.
But, a moment later she's gone, as is his seed, from the looks of things. The fingers leave her pussy lips as Isabelle shifts effortlessly backwards into the form she'd had before taking that one. That of one young Minerva McGonagall, complete with severe look, glasses, and her hair up in a bun. She wasn't TOO young… certainly older than him. Harry could well imagine what time of her life McGonagall had been in at this age. Just becoming a teacher, or perhaps a teacher's assistant, working her way up so that she could take up the Transfiguration Professorship at Hogwarts.
Standing there radiating confidence, McGonagall looks down at Harry, though at the same time, he can see the appreciation and adoration in Minerva's face.
"Mister Potter. I'll be expecting you to keep your grades up for the privilege of sharing my bed. Do you understand me, young man?"
Heh, no longer lad, nor 'Harry', but suddenly Mister Potter. And all in Minerva's Scottish accent as well. Biting his lower lip, Harry can't deny that the deal is a good one. Her body, in exchange for him doing the work he needed to do for his future anyways? Even if it wasn't all roleplay, he'd probably take the trade. Still, Isabelle's assertiveness had awoken something in Harry, something… primal. Standing up, he looks back at the bed they'd just fucked on the edge of, and then to the young form of his Transfiguration Professor.
"I understand… but isn't this MY bed? So, shouldn't you have to earn the right to share it with me?"
Minerva blushes at that, and Harry steps forward. Because, as stern and commanding and domineering as McGonagall could be, she'd always been subservient to a wizard with more power, right? Though, as Harry reaches out and puts a hand on Minerva's shoulder, slowly pushing his teacher down to her knees and eye level with his cock, he has to steadfastly think of anything BUT Dumbledore and the actual McGonagall doing anything of the same.
Luckily, it's very easy to focus on the here and now when the Spirit as Minerva happily leans forward and takes his cock in her mouth at his direction. Harry groans at how hot her mouth feels around his cock, her lips suctioning down and her tongue flicking this way and that. She's actually surprisingly good at fellatio, though once again, Harry suspects that not everything is exactly the way things should be. Some of it has to be the genius loci shining through, and he can easily imagine that the Spirit of House Gryffindor would be the adventurous sort, up for anything and everything.
With that in mind, Harry slides his hands through the young Minvera's bun and begins to pull it apart, forcing her to let her hair down. True to form, she glances up at him and frowns with her eyes, because her mouth is currently full of cock. Harry just smiles back down at her though, his hands lacing through her lush black locks, which are much darker right now then they are on the modern-day McGonagall, given the ravages of time and age.
"So long as I keep my grades up, I get you, that's the deal, right? I get you in whatever capacity I want you."
The fake Minerva's face goes red at Harry's insinuations, but in the end, even as she blushes, she nods her agreement as he begins to thrust into her mouth with his cock. Groaning, Harry thoroughly enjoys sticking it to the authority figure. He can't help himself, after so many years of them fucking him, it was kind of nice to fuck one back, even if she was a lot different than what he had grown up with, so much younger, so much fitted, buxom and smoking hot…
Speaking of which…
"Use those tits a little, Professor. Show me what you can do with them."
Still blushing, Minerva nonetheless uses her breasts and the room that Harry gives her to bring her tits up and wrap them around the lower half of his cock. Harry groans louder still as he gets a full-on blowjob-titjob from the gorgeous young form of his Transfiguration Professor, his hands gripping at her thick, luscious locks and his cock pushing into the back of her throat with every thrust.
In the end, he pulls out right as he begins to cum. There's no denying it… covering Minerva McGonagall's face in his jizz is every bit as amazing as he knew it would be. The way that she tilts her head back and lolls out her tongue in preparation, while serving her tits up to him with her hands like they're on a silver platter… well, that's just icing on the cake, even as he goes ahead and icings both her chest and her face.
When he's done, Harry has to take a step back and sit on the bed again, panting slightly, his cock once more deflating. That had been… wow. If losing his virginity to a facsimile of Godric Gryffindor's wife was amazing, then facializing the deaged features of his Head of House had been just… spectacular. Slowly, Minerva stands up. By this point, Harry really isn't surprised when she shifts again, the cum on her face and tits shifting with her. That's alright, he understands this isn't necessarily real. The pleasure is real, but the women aren't… and honestly, the fact that the cum goes away is one of the only reasons he's actually able to go along with this, because it means he knows he's not actually doing anything to anyone who he cares for without their consent, or anything silly like that.
Such silliness is dispelled from Harry's thoughts as he finds himself staring at the absolutely gorgeous form of schoolgirl Molly Prewett again. She grins at him as she walks up and leans in close, nearly smothering him with her massive tits while wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Hello Harry. Oh, you poor boy, let mama Molly take care of you."
Honestly, he's not all that surprised to learn that Molly always had a motherly instinct in her, anymore then he was surprised to find out that Minerva had always been a sort of switch, stern and domineering one second, but submitting to greater power and authority the next. Still, he is being smothered by the absolutely gorgeous, insanely busty, and altogether voluptuous and curvaceous red head.
"Molly… can't… breathe!"
After a moment, the Prewett woman pulls back with an understanding 'oh!' and giggles as she looks at him. Said giggles do very interesting things to her tits, which can't seem to go even a single second without bouncing and jiggling. There's never a still moment for those massive mammaries of hers, and Harry finds himself almost mesmerized by her chest.
"Sorry Harry! How about you guide, and I'll lead? How do you want me?"
Licking his lips, Harry considers that for a moment. He also considers the near future, and just who he's going to end up with after Molly, and then even further after that.
"… Get on your hands and knees, Molly. Like the heifer you are."
Okay, he's not entirely sure where that last bit came from. Well, no… he knows where it came from, he's just a teensy bit mortified he actually said it out loud. But to be honest, Molly Weasley was a bit… rotund. And her younger form had absolutely HUGE tits without even being rotund. Comparing her to a cow was probably out of line, but when it wasn't really Molly, it was okay, right? The Spirit of Gryffindor certainly agreed if her reaction as Molly was any indication. Letting out a gasp and hiding her mouth behind her hand, Molly's eyes twinkle as she shakes her voluptuous form a bit.
"Oh my, Harry. I should spank you for such language… mm, but I can't deny, it turns me on a bit. Are you going to treat me roughly? It's okay if you do, I can take it. Take all your frustrations out on my body, alright?"
Getting down on the floor on all fours, Molly Prewett positively coos when Harry follows her, kneeling behind her and putting the tip of his massive erection up against her slit. Her tight waist and hourglass figure give her a beautifully heart-shaped ass, which Harry grips tightly as he begins to slide into her, groaning and leaning over her, his weight bearing down on her body.
Molly falls first to her elbows, and then all the way forward onto her tits, moaning and even mooing a little for good measure. Harry sinks his cock right into the gorgeous woman's hot, velvety depths, finding her VERY responsive to his cock and touch, her entire body heating up and her inner walls clenching and squeezing around his member, just as Isabelle's had done before her.
He's half bent over her now and groaning as he fills Molly's depths with his cock. But there is a certain disadvantage to fucking her like this, even as good as it feels to be dominating her, to be turning the voluptuous red head into his personal cock sleeve. Namely, he can't get at her tits. That's easy enough though. Reaching out and sliding his arms around her thin waist, Harry then moves his hands up and under Molly's breasts, which are currently pressed into the floor.
Heaving backwards, Harry lifts Molly top half off the floor right as he thrusts forward deep enough to nearly penetrate her womb. The future mother of seven squeals like a stuck pig and orgasms on the spot. But this'll be Harry's third release, so he's not nearly as easy to make cum anymore. With a growl, the young man begins fucking Molly Prewett with all his might, while at the same time squeezing and kneading and outright mauling her massive mammaries with both hands.
"Ooh, you poor boy, keep it up! Fuck me! Get all that nasty aggression out! Make use of my body, however you like!"
Harry is more than happy to do so. He continues to ram into Molly from behind, but all good things do eventually come to an end. The red head climaxes around his cock half a dozen times at least though, before he finally plants his seed, deep inside of her womb, filling her up to the brim just as he did Isabelle Gryffindor.
By the time he's finished, Harry is panting heavily, and covered in some sweat. He pulls out of Molly and doesn't even pay the busty beauty any mind as he grabs up the Elder Wand and pulls on its immense power to rejuvenate himself. He doesn't even really cast a spell, all he has to do is think about it, and the connection between him and the powerful Hallow does the rest.
By the time he's recovered and ready for another go, Molly Prewett is gone. In her place… is Lily Evans. Harry blushes as the young woman smiles at him. Walking up, Lily places a palm on his cheek and caresses his face for a long moment.
"Hello, Harry."
Harry swallows hard.
"Mum…"
Lily gives him a wicked little smile at that, and looks down the length of his naked form, to his large cock, causing both his erection to begin growing again, as well as Harry himself to gaze upon his deaged mother's own nubile flesh. She's no hourglass bombshell like Molly was, and yet… she's even more gorgeous, in Harry's opinion. She's got curves, she's got tits and hips and ass to spare… she's not over the top like Molly Prewett maybe, but she's still absolutely beautiful, and ridiculously hot.
"Well… not quite yet, baby. It's the start of my Seventh Year, and I've just been named Head Girl. James is Head Boy, but, well, we're still at each other's throats. We don't start dating for another few weeks. What do you say, Harry? Want to get with a Head Girl for once?"
Harry blushes, but he can't deny that the entire idea excites him. It's not his real mom. He's not even a twinkle in his parents' eye yet at this point in her life. So, what harm could it do? It probably helps that Harry has been thinking about this moment for the past two transformations. Sliding his hands around his mom's waist, Harry pulls the gorgeous green-eyed red head into a hug and kisses Lily Evans right on the lips.
Said green eyes widen in momentary surprise at his forwardness, but then she's smiling and melting into his embrace, and the two naked young people hold each other for a long moment, before eventually, Lily pulls away, only to push Harry back onto the bed. He falls back with a thump, but before he can do much beyond prop himself up on his elbows, Lily is climbing on board.
"Sorry, Harry. But I've always been an outgoing sort of girl. You understand, right?"
He's actually pretty okay with it. After facializing Minerva and taking Molly to pound town, having his mom take charge feels right. It's not like he was going to pin Lily down and fuck her in the same way he did Molly, after all. His hands do go to her hips though, even as she slowly sinks down onto his cock, moaning all the while. Eventually, the head of his member hits the entrance to the Head Girl's womb, but Lily Evans isn't the kind of witch to let that stop her, or so it seems.
Pulling up halfway, an expression of pure determination spreads across her face… and then she slams herself back down, forcing his cock to impale her womb, right before Harry's very eyes. Emerald meets emerald as they stare at each other, and Lily's hands caress Harry's chest while she recovers, panting heavily and slowly adjusting.
"You're the biggest cock I've ever taken, Harry."
Hearing that from his mother in such a sultry, seductive voice probably should have disgusted Harry, even if it was a younger version of the woman who had eventually given birth to him. But instead, it makes his cock jump inside of her, and his balls churn extra hard as Harry growls and tightens his grip around Lily's waist, thrusting up into her.
"Saying things like that… I won't be able to hold back if you keep it up…"
That's the only warning he gives her, but it's also Lily needs. She laughs, but doesn't say anything else, instead leaning down to take his face in her hands again and kiss him full on the lips. There's nothing motherly or platonic about this kiss, but then, of course not, they were both naked and she was currently impaled on his dick. Regardless, her tongue presses into his mouth and Harry reciprocates with his own tongue, and the two of them make out quite heatedly as Harry slides his hands from Lily's waist to her hips, and then down to her ass.
Not as big as Molly's, but it doesn't have to be. In Harry's opinion, it's the perfect size, as his hands can cup it perfectly and dig in without it feeling like so much more of her butt cheeks are spilling out of his grasp. He's holding onto her nice and tight as she begins to ride him, while Lily's hands slide down off of his face and back to his chest, her fingernails raking across his pecs.
Theirs is an odd sort of lovemaking, Harry knows that. Lily is his mother, or will be his mother, or was his mother. But it's not really Lily. It's the Spirit of House Gryffindor in the form of a gorgeous Gryffindor who had once walked through the halls of Hogwarts. One of the brightest witches of her generation, Harry had on good authority.
Though… that did make him think of the OTHER witch who'd gained that moniker. For a moment, it's not a red head that's bouncing up and down on his cock, but a brunette. And out of all the naked forms he's seen today, Harry can't help but blush the deepest at that idea, especially since, despite the fact that he's fucked Gryffindor's wife, his transfiguration professor, the mother of his best friend, and now his OWN mom, it feels the most taboo, for some reason.
Refocusing on the task at hand, Harry gives Lily as good as he gets, thrusting up into her even as she rides him to climax after climax. But in the end, just like the witches before her, Lily Evans manages to milk his seed from his cock, and he pumps her womb full of his cum, filling a version of his mother that his father has never even been inside yet with white, hot, sticky semen.
Pulling back, Lily's emerald eyes sparkle as she gives Harry a whimsical smile.
"Your heart wasn't in it honey, but perhaps that's for the best. You shouldn't be pining after your own mother, not really."
Then, she pulls off his cock, climbing back off the bed again, likely to transform in moments. But Harry stops her.
"W-Wait…"
For a second, the genius loci currently in the shape of a younger version of his mother freezes up, looking at him with her head cocked to the side and a curious smile on her face. Harry just smiles sheepishly.
"You're right. Or she's right. Whoever said it… let's, um… skip the next three? I think I know who you're saving for the end."
Lily disappears, and in her place stands the original golden-eyed red-haired goddess as she props her hands on her hips.
"You don't want to build up a bit further?"
Harry chuckles.
"Well, Ginny isn't quite to the level of her mother, and now that she's graduating from Hogwarts, you may never know of a version of her that will ever be. And Parvati… don't suppose you can do Parvati and Padma at the same time, right?"
The House Spirit gasps and laughs a little.
"You naughty boy. Perhaps if I… but no, I alone cannot do both of the twins."
Harry nods, having expected that.
"And Lavender is hot and all, but once again, Molly had her beat, body-wise. But…"
He trails off, mostly because the gorgeous woman has transformed again, once more back into Hermione Granger. The most taboo option of all, because not only was she his best friend… she was his also his best friend's girl. That didn't keep Harry from yearning for her though, if he was being honest. Slowly, Hermione walks forward, her naked body on display. Harry feasts upon it, even as he feels a smidgen of shame for doing so.
"Am I who you want, Harry? Am I who you've always wanted?"
"Y-Yes…"
"Then take me to bed… please?"
Slowly, Harry does exactly that. He's not rough with Hermione, but neither is Hermione all that assertive. The bookish brunette witch allows him to guide her to his bed and allows him to lay her back on it. Harry gets up on the bed as well, and climbs between Hermione's legs, his cock slapping down on her navel, causing her to look upon it as her breath hitches.
"Be… go slowly, please? It's my first time."
Harry's cock, already half-hard, rapidly inflates the rest of the way to full length at hearing those words. But he still nods his assent to Hermione's request, and when he places the tip of his mammoth-sized member at her lower lips, he doesn't push in right away. Instead, he slips his cock up and down her slit, while leaning forward to kiss her on the lips. At the same time, one of his hands caresses and gropes one of Hermione's tits, molesting the soft breast flesh and playing with the nipple.
Beneath him, Hermione whimpers and moans, squirming a bit as he plays with her body to his heart's content. She's honestly far too gorgeous to be so… innocent and naïve, but Harry supposes that's his best friend. She's always been a strange sort of juxtaposition between too much knowledge and not enough. It's no surprise that this is another arena in which she might know a bunch of academic information about human biology but has no idea the pleasures of human intimacy.
Harry has to remind himself numerous times that this isn't really Hermione, but even knowing that it's the Spirit of House Gryffindor that he's effectively making sweet, tender love to, it doesn't stop Harry from taking his time and being exceedingly gentle with his best friend's body. Eventually though, he does slide into her. She's sopping wet by this point, and breaking through her hymen is a mere formality, that barely warrants more than a light gasp from the brunette bookworm currently laid out beneath him.
As Harry pauses to let her adjust, 'Hermione' reaches up and wraps her limbs around him, her legs crossing behind his back and her arms going around his neck. Her chocolate brown eyes meet his emerald, and she bites her lower lip needily.
"Fuck me, Harry. I want you to FUCK me."
How can he possibly deny her? With a low, primal growl as her demand awakens something within him, something that had awakened for the others too, Harry begins to fuck Hermione with gusto. It's the same gusto he'd fucked all of the other witches before her with, along with the deep, passionate, tongue-filled makeout session that he'd had with the younger version of his own mother.
But with Hermione, it's so different. It's so much better, to tell the truth. They kiss, and they make love, and oh yes, they also fuck, and all Harry can think is how GREAT it is to finally be inside of her, to finally BE with her. Except… it's not the real her. But perhaps that's for the best. Harry doesn't want to hurt his friends. He especially doesn't want to tear Hermione apart by making her choose or anything.
So, he'll take his pleasure from Gryffindor's genius loci. If the castle wants him as its Champion, if that's to be his new responsibility, his new place… then Harry is going to make use of every single boon that it gives him. If this is to be his reward for saving Voldemort, then so be it. Fucking Hermione Granger right in his own bed, Harry makes sure to get her to cum as many times as he can, for the first time that night, holding back his release until he sees a truly silly expression of insensate pleasure on her face.
Once Hermione's eyes are rolled back in her head and her tongue is lolled out of her mouth, Harry finally allows himself to cum, filling his friend with his seed, pumping her womb full of his cum, just the same as he did with the other women. But different, once again. It can't help but feel different. It's Hermione, after all.
Regardless, he cums inside of her, and then he pulls back, panting for a moment. But… honestly, he's not even remotely tired. The Elder Wand had given him more energy than even he realized when he'd used it a bit ago, and now… his blood is pumping, and his heart is racing and his cock… his cock is ready to go again. Again, and again and again.
"On second thought… bring out Lavender. We're going to put you through your paces before the night's through."
Hermione's face looks rather odd with a wicked smile spread across it, but then a moment later her features are replaced with Lavender's pale complexion, as well as the big pale tits and the wide breeding hips Harry knew from earlier that she had. Flipping the blonde onto her front, he keeps her prone as he thrusts into her from behind without a single moment of foreplay, hesitation, or pause. As 'Lavender Brown' moans throatily beneath him, Harry growls, having every intention of fucking the night away, because he knows he can.
And that he does. By the time things are over, HOURS have passed, and Harry has gone beyond just the mouth and cunt, even learning about anal from a few of the genius loci's more assertive Gryffindor witches. He fucks and he fucks, and he fucks some more, plowing some witches more than once, fucking others in new positions he really just wants to try, more than anything else.
If you'd told Harry he would be bouncing the Spirit of House Gryffindor in the small, petite form of Ginny Weasley up and down on his cock in a picture-perfect full nelson, he would have laughed in your face… but that did actually happen at one point, her small body perfect for folding up, something Harry had to learn to appreciate, given his natural love for busty and curvaceous women.
Regardless, at the end of the day, the energy he'd gotten from his Elder Wand pick-me-up does wear off and Harry finds himself briefly enjoying a nice bit of afterglow with the Spirit's true form, her red hair splayed across his chest as she looks up at him with golden eyes.
"I should probably inform you… I'm not the only House Spirit Hogwarts has, lad. If you stick around, the others WILL visit you eventually."
Harry blinks at that, assimilating what she's saying, processing it… and ultimately accepting it as merely logical.
"… Alright then."
Grinning, the genius loci gives him a wicked sort of look.
"When Slytherin comes by to have her turn, promise me something?"
Harry lifts an eyebrow at the very idea.
"What?"
"Break the snobby bitch like one of those cheap whores old Salazar used to pay for. The haughty princess NEEDS a good spanking, no matter what form she takes for you. Hear me?"
Harry just laughs, not at all surprised that the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is alive and well in the Spirits of the two Houses.
"… I'll take that under advisement."
The golden-eyed red head just gives him a look, before smiling beatifically.
"Confidence is a good look on you, lad. Keep it up, and don't let anyone take what you've gained through such sacrifice away, understand? Be who you want to be. Be a Gryffindor for me."
Harry just smiles.
"I'll try."
But the genius loci is already fading away. He watches as she departs but knows that she's not truly gone. Asserting herself as she had, had taken a lot out of her… like, a thousand years of gathered magical crumbs out of her. And yet, Harry could feel it within him. So long as he stayed at Hogwarts and was willing, the genius loci that governed each of the Houses would have the power to manifest, mostly because he would give it to them.
That was interesting, and he couldn't help but admit that the idea of Slytherin paying a visit was even more so. Still, for now… Harry doesn't even finish that thought, falling to a deep, dreamless slumber as a wave of exhaustion washes over him once more.
-x-X-x-
Hermione Granger was no fool. Hogwarts had been housing those who had nowhere to go since the Battle for days now, and her and Harry were among them… as well as among the heroes that had made victory possible in the first place. So, they were hanging around, as were a bunch of other people, some of which probably didn't have to but wanted to be close in proximity to Harry, nonetheless.
So, it wasn't really surprising that Harry might be overwhelmed by everyone. However, that didn't explain exactly why he wasn't able to look practically any of the witches staying at Hogwarts, including her, in the eye. Enough was enough. Finally, Hermione had just grabbed him by the arm when they were out of sight of anyone who might have tried to stop her and dragged Harry to an unused classroom.
Thrusting her friend inside, Hermione follows and closes the door behind her, locking it before crossing her arms and glaring at Harry.
"Enough is enough. Something is wrong, and you're going to tell me what it is."
For a moment, Harry looks panicked. Then, seeming to realize he can't just get out of this, he looks stricken. THEN, finally he starts talking. He tells her about the visit from Gryffindor's House Spirit… and he tells her the forms it took. Hermione has to sit down when he gets to the 'Champion of Hogwarts and his just rewards' part.
But when all is said and done, the brunette witch shakes the glazed look in her eyes off and stands up. Harry just waits, maybe expecting her to slap him or something… but instead, Hermione lunges forward and kisses him. He kisses her back, and then they're wrapped up in each other, embracing one another as they makeout for what feels like an eternity.
When she finally pulls away, Hermione is quick to explain herself.
"Other witches like say, Ginny, are one thing… but if I'm going to be competing with the damn school houses themselves for your attention, I'm staking my claim right now. I love you Harry James Potter, and no matter how insane your life gets, I always will. Understood?"
Harry just nods, clearly flummoxed. Smiling, Hermione leans back in, and they return to snogging to their heart's content.
-x-X-x-
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