Capítulo 36: The Birthday Present (Harry Potter)
A/N: The Birthday Present was a commissioned fic originally written in three out-of-order parts from September of 2019 to January of 2020. Over on HF and QQ, this story was written ala Star Wars, with the Harry/Hermione scenes taking place first, and then the Harry/Emma prequel, followed by a Harry/Rose sequel. But here I've gone and reordered them so the prequel takes place first. I'm curious to see if it reads better or worse that way.
Summary: In which the Granger women all get a certain something out of their relationship to a certain handsome, green-eyed wizard. When Hermione goes to her mother for support, Emma Granger has just the thing to cheer her up. Later on, Hermione carries the torch forward with her daughter as well.
Themes: Rough Sex, Breeding, Incest
-x-X-x-
Emma Granger bites her index finger, even as she carefully peaks through the curtains out into her backyard. She was trying to be sneaky… not that she had to be, as a divorced woman. She was single now, so that meant there should be no problem at all, enjoying her gardener's gorgeous physique. With stark black hair, beautiful emerald green eyes, and a body that screamed chiseled, Mister Potter as Emma knew him was… to die for. He was so scrumptious she could just eat him up… but of course, that would be inappropriate.
Not because he was her daughter's best friend, no. As it turned out, Emma Granger, Mother of one Hermione Granger, had yet to realize just who it was that she'd hired to do her landscaping. Maybe it was a little silly for Emma to be so oblivious, but in truth, she'd never actually gotten to meet Harry before. She'd never even seen a picture of him, as odd as that seemed. Hermione had been distinctly lax on her duties as both a daughter and a friend… though part of that probably had to do with how obsessed her child had become about the wizarding world.
It hurt, a little bit, that Hermione had all but cut all ties with her parents in order to truly embrace a world of magic and wonder. Emma couldn't really blame her she supposed, but there was no denying that Hermione's father DID… and it was what ultimately led to the stress and strain that tore their marriage apart. Though, his affairs also helped on that front.
Regardless, Emma Granger was a single woman, a total MILF, and had no idea that the young university student she'd hired for a temporary summer job of doing her hedges and mowing her lawn and trimming her yard every weekend was in fact the same young man that Hermione had spoken of so often over her years at Hogwarts.
In all fairness to Emma, Harry looked nothing like Hermione's descriptions of him. Not anymore. Gone was the short, underfed young man that Emma had gotten a mental image of from Hermione's worries about Harry's eating habits and his mistreatment at the hands of his Aunt and Uncle. Harry had been stunted for quite a long time because of his upbringing, that much was true. He'd never really gotten the nutrition he needed, even during his time at Hogwarts. By the age of eleven, the damage was already done.
But not irreversible. It took a potions regimen that Harry really thought should have come along long before he reached adulthood and had to seek it out himself, plus quite a lot of exercise and looking after his health, but he'd managed to turn around the damage done by the neglect of his relatives, and now looked not quite like an Adonis… but 'hunky' was certainly a word that Emma Granger would have used to describe his current looks.
Oh yes, and especially with how he wore that tight shirt and those blue jeans… he looked amazing pretty much every time he came over to her place, and Emma… Emma was nearing the end of her rope. Biting her lower lip hard as she peeks through the blinds, the gorgeous, altogether lonely MILF, begins to run her hands across her body.
Hermione certainly didn't get her looks from her father. The beautiful young woman that Hermione Granger had grown into, that had so steadily caught the eye of one Ronald Bilius Weasley from Year Four on, was completely attributable to her absolutely stunning mother. Emma Granger was Hermione, but in her prime, not quite so young and nubile anymore, perhaps, but still gorgeous and Grade A MILF material to be sure.
And she was well aware of it too. As her hands work over her sizable tits, then down along her taut, trim abdomen to between her thighs, Emma licks her lips. She doesn't think she can hold back much longer. Mister Potter is out there, looking so delectable, so delicious. Why shouldn't she take a bite out of such a hunky young man? Well, there was one reason… what if he was already attached?
Emma hadn't asked yet. She was afraid too, truth be told. She knew that made her a coward, she knew that she was taking her time and holding herself back by avoiding the issue. If she posed the question and he said yes, that he did have a girlfriend or even worse, a fiancé already… then she wouldn't be able to move forward. She couldn't very well seduce a taken man, no matter how young he was. Not after having her husband seduced away from her by those hussies.
Not that she really blamed the women her husband had cheated on her with. She was well aware that given the nature of his multiple affairs, the lion's share of the blame could be laid solely at the feet of her daughter's father. He'd made his decisions, he'd made his bed… and now he got to lie in it, while Emma kept the house, the dentistry business, and practically everything.
But not him. Not that she wanted HIM, but there was no denying that the MILF was looking for companionship at this point. She wasn't going to grow old alone in this home, becoming some crazy cat lady. No sir, that life was not for her. She was too fucking sexy, too fucking gorgeous to just… give up now. Pursing her lips together, Emma comes to a decision, the woman pulling her hands away from her body as she straightens up and readjusts and fixes her slightly disheveled clothing.
It was time to make her move. It was time to stop holding off and just… go for it. As Mister Potter finishes up mowing her lawn and puts away the lawnmower back in the shed, Emma moves to the back door and opens it up, calling to him.
"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!"
Blinking, a pair of gorgeous emerald green eyes pop up and he looks over to her, smiling casually and waving a hand.
"Miss Granger! How are you doing today?"
"I'll be doing better when you come in for a cold glass of lemonade, young man! It's far too hot out for you to not take a break! No arguing now!"
That last bit is tacked on when she sees from the university student's face that he is considering arguing. She has no intention of letting this hunky young man give himself heatstroke, no sir. After all, if he gets himself sick, who's going to trim her hedges? It's a completely selfish request, really. In more ways than one.
Seeing that Emma isn't going to take no for an answer, her part time gardener lets his broad shoulders slump with a sigh, chuckling as he shakes his head but nonetheless makes his way over to the back door. Feeling especially bold, and maybe just a little too horny, Emma lets him walk past her… but not without giving him a light smack on the ass as he walks in, causing him to jump and twist his head back to look at her with wide eyes.
Feeling proud of herself, Emma just juts out her chin and nods towards the nearby kitchen.
"Pour yourself a glass, young man. Have as much as you want."
Nodding amicably, he does exactly that, taking the large pitcher of lemonade she'd made for him and one of the empty glasses and filling it up. He then hands her the first glass he fills, and makes himself a second, showing that on top of being an utter hunk, he's also a gentleman. Smiling softly, Emma lets Harry take a few sips before leaning forward over the kitchen island they're currently standing around and pressing her arms together to accentuate and lift up her tits, giving Harry a very nice view of her cleavage… and due to his height, a view down her top as well.
When he notices, he flushes but doesn't say anything, and Emma sees that he peeks a few more times for good measure. That was a good sign, and it gives the older woman the confidence she needs to push forward with her delicious gardener.
"So, Mr. Potter. Tell me, do you have any… women in your life?"
Blinking at that, the black-haired young man seems to consider that for a moment.
"Well, I have this one friend… but we haven't talked in a while. I've kind of been busy with Uni these last few years, you know?"
Emma nods casually, even as inwardly she's beginning to feel the burgeoning feelings of hope.
"I see. No significant others then? I'm surprised a handsome man like you doesn't have a girlfriend already. Or… a fiancé."
Sputtering at that, her landscaper shakes his head back and forth, wide-eyed.
"O-Oh no… I, um. I'm much too busy for a relationship like that at the moment. I can't really do the heavy romance while I'm still studying, right?"
He chuckles nervously at the end there, and then tries to cover it up by drinking his lemonade as fast as he can. Good, Emma wants that cup empty and soon, for what she's going to do next. She doesn't bother mentioning that many young men and women carry on heavy romances while in college, she doesn't bother mentioning that most couples even meet at the age her gardener is now.
Instead, now having confirmation that she wouldn't be stealing him from anyone, Emma waits for Mister Potter to put down his empty glass on the kitchen island and then makes her move.
"Oh! Let me refill that for you, since you filled my glass for me!"
Before he can protest, Emma is lifting up the pitcher of lemonade she made. Even after emptying two glasses worth, it's still very full… and very heavy. To make it more believable, she'd grabbed the largest pitcher she had, more of a bucket with an ill-thought out handle on the side then anything else, truth be told. Of course, Harry with his big strong muscles had had no trouble making use of it.
Emma though, with her dainty, feminine arms, lifts the pitcher up with every intention of filling his glass… only to 'misjudge' the distance. With an 'oops!' Emma ends up spilling the contents of the pitcher all over Harry's front and lap, staining his shirt and his jeans with the sugary mess. The young man jumps back, startled, but it's far too late, he didn't see it coming at all, and while some lemonade ends up splattering across her floor, most of it ends up right where she intended it… not in his cup, but all across her gardener's hunky scrumptious masculine body.
"Oh shi-!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry! How clumsy of me!"
"No, no, it's okay. Uh, do you have a towel?"
"A towel! Mr. Potter, that just won't do! Maybe if it was just water, but I'm afraid that I put way too much sugar in that lemonade. Ugh, your clothes will need to be washed, and you'll need a shower as well."
He tries to raise some level of protest of course, Emma isn't surprised by that, she was expecting him to. But with her browbeating him into submission, she soon has her landscaper in the master bedroom, getting undressed and ready to hop into the master bath's expansive shower… more than big enough for two. Standing at the door, Emma clears her throat as she speaks through it.
"Just leave your clothes on the bed and once I hear the shower running, I'll go ahead and grab them and put them in the wash, Mister Potter!"
"… Okay!"
He sounds so hesitant, so concerned, so confused… god it just makes Emma want to show him the ropes even more. Licking her lips as she hears the shower suddenly turn on, Emma reaches forward and opens the door, stepping into the master bedroom. The door to the master bath is of course closed, but rather than gathering up Harry's lemonade stained clothing as she intended, Emma bypasses the garments entirely and moves to stand right in front of the door to the bathroom.
When she hears the sound of the running hot water change, that distinctive note of it hitting flesh instead of the floor of the shower, Emma licks her lips and reaches up to begin stripping out of her own clothes. It was time to have some fun…
-x-X-x-
He probably should have just bitten the bullet and revealed who he was to Miss Granger at this point. Grimacing as he takes what he intends to be a quick rinse off shower, Harry nevertheless uses the time alone to assess just how dumb he's being. He could have cleaned up the mess Emma made in an instant with his magic, and given that she was Hermione's mother, it wasn't breaking the statute of secrecy to do it in front of her.
But the thing was… Emma still hadn't figured out who he was. And Harry… Harry kind of liked being so incognito. If even one of his best friend's mothers couldn't figure out who he was from his distinctive green eyes, messy black hair, and his last name, well then… he was doing pretty well at lying low, it felt like. Still, he knew if he revealed he could do magic to Miss Granger, she would immediately know what was up.
Which was why he was instead in the woman's too-big shower, washing himself off despite not being the slightest bit filthy. Really, it was kind of ridic- and then there are hands on him, distinctly soft feminine hands, and Harry's thought processes are abruptly derailed as he realizes Emma Granger is holding him from behind, having stepped into the shower behind him and embraced him.
"M-Miss Granger?"
"Please, Mister Potter… call me Emma."
Harry doesn't say a word, because he's pretty sure the rejoinder to that request is to tell Emma HIS first name, and he's not really looking to give that up just yet. Not that Emma Granger seems to mind his silence. Turning him around, the Grade A MILF licks her lips as she looks him up and down, her eyes ultimately settling on his cock, even as his settle on her tits and his member begins to rise.
"I'm a very lonely woman, Mister Potter. Do you think you could help me with that?"
Now, Harry was not a virgin, not at this point. He'd been with a few girls by now, mostly muggle coeds at the muggle University he was currently attending. So yes, he knew about sex… and honestly, Hermione's mom was a stacked bombshell of a woman despite her age and despite her motherhood, and Harry hadn't failed to notice any of that about Miss Granger since he'd started to work for the divorced MILF.
He couldn't exactly say no, could he? Or he could… but he definitely didn't WANT to. Stepping forward, Harry reaches out and grabs Emma by her hips, even as she backs into the shower wall. The hot water beats down on them both, even as their lips collide, Harry's tongue pushing into his best friend's mom's mouth, and Emma's tongue quickly answering him.
He shouldn't be doing this, of course. Not even because Emma was his employer, but because she was Hermione's mum. It was inappropriate. But truth be told, Harry had been carrying a torch for Hermione Granger for just as long as Ron had. He'd just not wanted to get in the way of what he saw as a burgeoning relationship between his two best friends. And considering they were now married with children, Harry assumed he was right.
That didn't make it any easier though, and not wanting to be around the girl of his dreams and the man she'd married was half the reason Harry had abandoned the wizarding world for the muggle one in the first place. That wasn't to say Emma was a consolation prize but-
"I don't know what you're thinking about Mister Potter, but if you don't stick that cock in me right fucking now, I'll be very cross with you."
Emma's voice cuts through his self-reflection again, and Harry can't help but sheepishly grin, even as he hooks a strong hand under one of Emma's legs and hikes it up, lining his cock up with her cunt and thrusting in a moment later. Filling the gorgeous Grade A MILF with his shaft feels absolutely amazing, and it seems to have a similar effect on Emma herself, because Miss Granger moans wantonly, and then quickly wraps her arms around his neck, dragging him into another kiss as Harry begins to fuck her up against the shower wall right then and there.
It seemed they'd both noticed each other over the last couple of months that Harry had been working for Emma. He thought only he'd been subtly ogling the gorgeous MILF every chance he could, but now he suspected that Emma had been eyeing him up for quite some time… just as he suspected that the lemonade spill wasn't so much an accident as premediated and planned.
He didn't mind though. Being buried inside of Emma's clenching, squeezing wet quim felt amazing, and there was nothing Harry wanted more than to give the gorgeous older woman the time of her life. So that's what he does, fucking her hard and fast, even as Emma squeals and moans and cries out into his mouth, climaxing around his cock again and again and showing off just how horny she was. He couldn't even begin to guess how long this dry spell had been for her… but there was nothing dry about either of them at this point.
Eventually, Emma's cunt manages to milk Harry's cock of his seed. He cums inside of her with a groan, filling her womb to the brim and then some, and painting her walls quite white with his sticky hot semen. When he's done, Harry let's go of Emma's leg and pulls back, fully intending to let her… leave, he supposed? Or maybe they could wash each other's backs? Neither of those things happen though, because instead Emma drops down into a crouch right there in the middle of the shower, bending her legs at the knees and spreading them wide as she takes hold of his cock and puts it in her mouth.
Sucking him clean for a moment, Emma pulls back and gives his cockhead a lick as she winks up at him.
"Can't possibly leave you all messy after you did such a good job, now can I young man?"
Harry flushes a bit, and then groans as Emma returns to bobbing up and down on his cock. Shit, Hermione's mum was an exceptional cock sucker…
"… Hermione is never going to forgive me for this."
He doesn't register that he's said that out loud until Emma freezes up, staring at him with wide eyes. Pulling back off of his cock with a pop, the gorgeous MILF opens and closes her mouth for a few moments. The obvious question of "How do you know my daughter" is clearly on the tip of her tongue when she stops and seems to finally come to an epiphany.
"You… you're Harry Potter."
Wincing, Harry can only nod. Him and his big mouth…
-x-X-x-
Emma could scarcely believe her bad luck. Or perhaps it was… good lucky? They were out of the shower now, and on the bed. Harry was wearing one of her husband's old bathrobes that she'd had lying around, while Emma was done up in nothing but a towel. They were sitting on the edge of the bed together, with Harry having just finished explaining himself. Harry James Potter… truth be told, if even half of the things Hermione had told Emma about the boy were accurate, then she could understand his explanation of just wanting to fly under the radar and be 'normal' for once.
And honestly, knowing who he was and that he'd been deceiving her… it didn't make her want him any less, if she was being honest.
"Right, so, uh… I guess now that you know, I can just clean my clothes, get dressed, and be going. It's um… been a pleasure working for you, Miss Granger. Sorry again."
Emma blinks stupidly, and Harry takes her inaction as agreement, standing up and waving his hand over his lemonade-stained clothing, instantly cleaning them up. She thought that wizards and witches needed a wand… no, she couldn't let herself get distracted! When Harry moves to gather up his clothes and take them into the bathroom in order to get changed, Emma stops him, placing one hand on the clothes and grabbing Harry by the fluffy collar of his bathrobe with the other.
The MILF pulls her daughter's best friend into a soul-searing kiss, her tongue doing it's level best to fit down his throat as she shows him just how little she cares about his deceit. When they finally pull apart, Emma knows how she must look, her chest heaving, and her face flushed with wanton desire as she gives Harry a heavily lidded look.
"Did I say we were done yet, Mister Potter."
She licks her lips.
"I'm not finished with you yet… Harry."
Staring at her for a long moment, Harry grins… and then cocks his head to the side.
"If you want, we could make things a bit more interesting? Now that you know I'm magical, I mean."
Emma's thoughts race as she considers all the many ways that Harry could use magic to make this all even more fun for them. She almost opens her mouth to ask what he has in mind, but where would the fun in that be? Giving him an impish, wanton grin, Emma just nods instead.
"Impress me, Mister Potter."
And that's when a second Harry steps into the room, wearing the same exact bathrobe as the first. Striding forward, he stops right beside the first and in unison, the Harry Potter duo strip out of her husband's bathrobe and expose their hunky, masculine bodies, completely with identical, big fat dicks. Then, they speak at the same exact time.
"Impressed yet, Miss Granger."
What else was she to do but pull her towel away and lay back on the bed, spreading her legs wide open invitingly? With two Harrys, it really was double the fun. They spit-roasted her first, taking her on her hands and knees and fucking her from both ends. With one delicious, thick, meaty cock in her throat and the other in her cunt, Emma was having the time of her life, taking Harry nice and deep from either direction.
It really had been too long for her. She hadn't been with a man since her divorce, since she found out her husband was cheating on her and kicked him out. And truth be told, she and her husband had barely been having sex even before that. But even more than that, Emma Granger… was a closet slut. She'd seemingly gotten it mostly out of her system back during her own university days. She'd been able to party with the best of them back then, and the parties she went to tended to feature more on the orgy or even gangbang side of things than not.
Yep, Emma Granger was the sluttiest of sluts when she was younger. However, she was also a studious young woman, just like her daughter. She was a genius, unlike her daughter's father, and when she'd settled for her ex-husband, she'd also put her past behind her. She'd settled down, and together they'd started their dentistry business together.
But in the end, you could take the woman out of the slutty, party-filled college environment, but you couldn't truly take the slut out of the woman. Harry proved this fairly quickly as he unlocked Emma's true nature completely by accident by double teaming her with himself from the future. Together, the two Harrys were putting the gorgeous Grade A MILF through her paces… but Emma was also proving to be more than capable of holding her own.
Of course, Harry and Harry weren't anything to scoff at either. Their thick, fat cocks were young, and their stamina was high. Once they were done cumming inside of Emma's mouth and cunt, they transitioned the moaning MILF into a new position… and Emma found herself being sandwiched between the two young men as one of the Harrys used the lubricant provided by her cunt and his seed to push up into her asshole.
If it'd been a long time since Emma had been fucked the normal way, it'd been even longer since the once-party girl had been plowed anally. Needless to say, it was an experience and a half to get butt fucked again, and while getting plowed up the cunt by an identical cock at that. DP'd between two Harrys, all Emma Granger can do is get fucked silly, her eyes rolling back in her skull and her tongue lolling out of her mouth in an incredibly lewd manner as Harry pounds into her pussy and her ass at the exact same time, showing no signs of slowing down.
And slow down he does not. Harry fucks Emma again and again, and between him and his future self, they completely and utterly mind break the gorgeous MILF… though only temporarily, of course. They fuck Emma until she can't see straight, until her entire world is awash in blinding white pleasure. They pound into her until she's no longer able to form a coherent sentence, they fill her with their seed until her belly is slightly distended from the sheer amount of cum inside of her womb, her stomach, and her bowels.
And then the Harry from the future takes her into the bathroom again and gives her a loving, tender rinse off shower, while the Harry from the present gets his bathrobe back on, grabs his time turner, and travels back in time just outside of the master bedroom, in order to become the Harry from the future. Needless to say, he enjoys getting to fuck Emma every which way with his past self all over again.
In the end, once she's all cleaned up and tucked into bed, Harry, just the one Harry that's left, is getting ready to leave when Emma grabs him by the hand and whimpers, pulling him close.
"Please… stay."
Chuckling, Harry gets into bed with the gorgeous MILF, letting her cuddle close to him as he lays down beside her. Right… Hermione might never forgive him for this, but honestly, he didn't really care. It was obvious that one of the two Grangers needed him right now, and it wasn't his best friend and unrequited crush. Harry would stay by Emma's side as long as necessary and be whatever she needed him to be.
Hermione would call it his 'Saving People' thing, but honestly, Harry just couldn't leave a hurting woman to wallow in her loneliness.
-x-X-x-
Hermione was frustrated. No, that wasn't quite right. Five years ago, she'd been frustrated. Four years ago, she'd been confused. Three years ago, she'd been lonely. Two years ago, she'd been despondent. This year? This year, Hermione was simply furious. Today was her birthday… and once again, she was celebrating it alone.
Her name, though she was coming to regret it most severely, was Hermione Granger-Weasley. She'd married Ron two years back and tacked his name onto her own. She certainly wasn't going to replace her last name with his, she'd never been that kind of woman. Still, one might expect that being married implied a few things. Like your husband remembering and celebrating your birthday with you.
This was the second year in a row that Ron had completely forgotten. Hermione supposed she shouldn't be surprised. He'd always been a bit self-centered and narcissistic. Expecting him to remember something that wasn't about him was… usually an exercise in frustration. After last year however, Hermione had set about trying to give Ron as many opportunities to be reminded of her upcoming big day as possible. She'd told him about it at least three separate times, she'd put it on their shared calendar, she'd left out some catalogs with items circled to give him ideas of what she might want.
Nothing. It was the afternoon now, and Ron had just asked her what was for dinner, without so much as a single inclination that he knew what today was. So yeah, Hermione was furious. But she was also… just tired. She was exhausted emotionally, in a way that she wasn't sure she could ever recover from. She was… she wanted her best friend back, more than anything else.
Five years. It'd been five years since they'd destroyed Voldemort's last horcrux and Harry had finally ended the bastard, once and for all. It'd also been five years since Harry had subsequently left the wizarding world in disgust when the Daily Prophet, after just a month of printing praises about Harry saving them all, had turned around and started pondering just how powerful and how dangerous the young wizard truly was, to be able to do what Dumbledore had not.
No matter that the so-called journalists making these hit pieces clearly had no clue as to the true context behind just about everything that had ever happened between Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Harry. It didn't stop them from speculating, judging, and fearmongering. After all, celebrating sold well only for a short amount of time. To keep the sales rolling in, one had to make people read, and sensationalist headlines speculating whether Harry would be the next Dumbledore, or the next Voldemort sold papers.
It'd been enough to drive him away entirely, and Hermione, too busy in her post-Hogwarts studies, hadn't been able to be there for him when he needed her most. They'd fallen out of touch, and Hermione had to admit, she felt a little isolated in those first couple of years. All she'd had were the Weasleys, and while they treated her like family, Ron was always… well, Ron.
Still, her loneliness had led to what was swiftly becoming her greatest regret. Two years ago, despite knowing deep down inside that they weren't truly compatible, Hermione Granger had married Ronald Weasley. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but the entire wedding, she'd secretly been waiting for Harry to show up and say this was all wrong, to tell them they weren't meant for each other.
Not in any romantic sort of way or a-anything like that, Hermione was sure she didn't think of her friend that way, but Harry… Harry was closest to both of them. If anyone would have objected on the grounds that they didn't want to see her or Ron unhappy, it would have been him. He didn't show though, and in the end, the wedding ceremony had gone off without a hitch. That day, Hermione had become Hermione Granger-Weasley, officially. The less said about that night, however, the better…
Regardless, after marrying Ron, it was like a switch had been flipped. Ron had always been Ron before, but once he seemingly 'had' her, he got ten times worse. Worst of all, was his disparagement of Harry. Whenever Hermione tried to bring him up, Ron would comment casually that Harry had been seen with a whole lot of muggle whores, partying around the world on the gold that he'd gotten from emptying the Potter and Black accounts in Gringotts before his departure.
Hermione would always ask for sources of course, even if it was true, she was that desperate for any information on Harry that she'd take it, but Ron would always waffle and say he didn't quite remember where he'd heard or read this or that rumor, only that he was pretty sure they were true. It was obvious that even now, Ron felt like he was living in Harry's shadow, and Hermione had learned quite quickly to avoid bringing up their missing friend… or perhaps more accurately, HER missing friend.
Now though, as she stood there in the kitchen, practically alone on her birthday, Ron in the other room waiting for dinner, but emotionally miles away, Hermione finds herself wondering if Harry had the right idea. Magic… magic was wonderful, and glorious, and spectacular, and it'd changed her life. But maybe it was better to live like a muggle, away from all the prejudice and discrimination and the loud-mouthed red heads constantly yapping about Quidditch.
Without hesitating for one more moment, Hermione decides what she's going to do. Spinning on her heel, she steps out the backdoor and closes it quietly behind her. Moving out into their yard, she makes sure she's far enough away that Ron won't hear her, before spinning on a dime and apparating. A moment later, Hermione appears in the backyard of her childhood home, her mother's home as a matter of fact.
She and her mom, Emma Granger… they're not as close as they should be, Hermione realizes with a jolt as she stands there staring at the backdoor of her childhood home, suddenly nervous about entering from that way. It feels… it feels almost like it would be trespassing if that makes sense, like she's a stranger here, and she needs… she needs to go around front and introduce herself properly.
Biting her lower lip, Hermione skirts around the house, exiting the backyard and walking across the front, heading to the front doorstep and coming to a stop at the front door. Refusing to let herself hesitate any further, she reaches up and pulls the knocker, once, twice, thrice. Then, she waits. As she does so, she looks around.
She's a little surprised at how manicured the place looks. Especially since her mother and father had divorced four and a half years ago. She was well aware that her mother had gotten the better of that divorce, even if Emma had chosen to keep the name, thanks to the dentistry business that she'd effectively won the right to operate when she and Hermione's dad had separated.
Still, growing up, Hermione distinctly remembered her father handling the yardwork, doing the man's work as he called it. But despite his years-long absence, the place looked immaculate. Hermione would have expected her mother to let it go, but perhaps Emma had simply hired a yard service in the interim. She certainly made enough money to.
Regardless, the door is suddenly opening, and Hermione tears her gaze off of the pristine-looking front yard, only for her eyes to widen to epic proportions at the sight of her mother, standing in the doorway, wearing absolutely scandalous red lingerie. Emma Granger is… a smoking hot babe, and rationally, Hermione is aware that her mother meets all of the common standards of beauty, that… that she's effectively a Grade A MILF.
But that doesn't mean she wants to see her mother half-naked. Blushing profusely, Hermione quickly pushes past her mom, getting into the house without so much as an invitation so that Emma will close the door and hopefully no one will see her state of dress. When they're finally in the entryway of the home with the front door closed and locked behind them, Hermione finally turns to Emma, who rather than looking displeased, has a big wide smile on her face.
"Mooom!"
Really at a loss for what else to say, Hermione settles for gesturing wildly at her mother's state of undress. Emma just laughs, and then sighs and shakes her head.
"Let me guess, Ronald forgot your birthday again."
Hermione blushes, a little ashamed to realize that the last time she'd even seen her mother had been last year at around this time. She hadn't immediately gone to Emma that day, but she'd met with her a week later to unload all of her disappointment and the like. And then she'd let herself get lost in the world of magic again, forgetting all about her dear old muggle mother for a whole 'nother year.
Before she can open her mouth to apologize for that however, Emma snaps her fingers at her and smiles.
"I have something that will cheer you up! The best birthday present ever~"
With that, the buxom, beautiful MILF, still clad in a set of gorgeous red lingerie, turns on her heel and begins to walk down the hall. When Hermione doesn't immediately follow, Emma looks back at her and gestures impatiently.
"Well? Come along sweetie!"
A little wrong-footed, Hermione follows her mother to the master bedroom. There she finds something even more shocking than her mother answering the door in nothing but fire-red lingerie. There, laid out on the four-poster bed, is a man. He's waiting almost casually, his hands clasped on his chest and his legs ever so slightly spread to show off the largest cock Hermione has ever seen, jutting straight up in the air. He's gorgeous, all lean muscle, and Hermione finds herself ogling ceaselessly.
It's not like he knows it… the man doesn't react to Emma or Hermione's entrance in any meaningful way, mostly because he's blindfolded. He does smile, clearly having heard Emma walk in, but Hermione's mother gives Hermione a wink and places a finger against her lips to shush her daughter, even as she crawls up onto the bed.
Watching her own mother bend down and arch her back so that she can begin licking at his cock and massaging his nut sack with an expert hand is not exactly what Hermione came here to do today, so she focuses her eyes elsewhere… and for the first time notices the mop of familiar black hair, and the trace of a faded lightning bolt peeking out from under the top of the blindfold the man is wearing. Not just any man… it's Harry. Her mom is… is in a sexual relationship with Harry?!
Hermione very nearly says something right then and there, but Emma preempts her, pulling back from her licking for a moment to speak, even as she strokes Harry's cock with one hand and kneads his balls with the other.
"I brought someone to play with us tonight, Harry~"
Hermione blushes at that, fidgeting nervously. She… she couldn't. She was a married woman. It would be wrong. It would be a betrayal of… of a man who'd forgotten her birthday two years in a row.
"Oh? Who is it? Jane? Bella?"
That has Hermione's eyes going wide. She recognizes the names of her cousins. It seems that Ron was righter than even he knew with his disparaging remarks. Harry was out here in the muggle world, fucking muggle women… they just so happened to be muggle women related to HER. Bristling just a little bit with indignation, Hermione stomps over to the bed and reaches out, pulling the blindfold off of her missing best friend right then and there.
As Harry is blinking his green eyes clear, adjusting to the light, Hermione finds herself doing something she feels like she should have done ages ago. Leaning down, she takes hold of Harry by the face and kisses him right then and there on the lips quite soundly, her tongue slipping into his mouth and dueling with his tongue as his eyes finally clear up and he finally recognizes just who he's making out with. For a moment, there's surprise, but then it's replaced with a deep-seated satisfaction, and suddenly Harry's hand is in Hermione's hair, and he's pulling her in closer, and his other hand is on the small of her back.
Emma leans back and just claps happily.
"Oh good. I always knew the two of you would be perfect for each other!"
With the reminder that her MOM is watching all of this, Hermione can't help but pull away, and Harry, sensing her embarrassment, lets her. Of course, seeing this, Emma quickly intervenes, dragging Hermione off of the bed and starting to unbutton her daughter's blouse.
"M-Mom!"
Shocked as she is, Hermione can't muster much resistance as Emma just smiles at her beatifically, continuing to strip her down.
"It's alright baby, just let mama handle the logistics. This is yours and Harry's night, alright? I want you both to enjoy yourselves very much, so I'll go ahead and walk you through it, just like I had to do with Harry at first."
The idea that Harry had learned all about sex from her mother leaves Hermione gobsmacked, and before long, she's naked and on her back. Harry has gotten up and allowed Emma and Hermione to take her place. Kneeling at the head of the bed, Emma rests Hermione across her lap, leaning down over her and running her fingers along Hermione's pussy lips. It's a humiliating, embarrassing experience… but there's no denying that Hermione is already wet.
"Hm, she's ready for you Harry. I wouldn't have taken my daughter for a slut… but perhaps she's just excited to finally be with a man who can actually take care of her needs."
Emma's tone is teasing, even as she leans back and cradles Hermione's head in her hands. Looking up into her mother's smiling face, Hermione can hardly believe any of this is happening. It feels surreal, like a damn dream… but Harry's hands come down on her thighs, and he spreads her legs apart as he places the head of his massive member up against her pussy lips. Tearing her gaze off of her mother, Hermione looks up at Harry, meeting his emerald-green eyes.
"Are you ready, Hermione?"
She knows, just from seeing his concerned face, that Harry would be more than willing to back off right now if she asked him to. If she wanted to stop or at least pause so she could gather her emotions, then he would gladly do so. Because… because he cared about her. M-Maybe he even loved her. It's that realization more than anything else that makes Hermione's mind up for her. Still blushing up a storm, the young woman decides nonetheless that she doesn't want to wait any longer. She doesn't want a chance to talk herself out of it.
Nodding jerkily, Hermione bites her lower lip as she gives Harry an assenting nod. Seeing this, he smiles at her and slowly begins to push in, causing Hermione to groan as he fills her passageway with his cock.
"Fuck, Hermione… you're so wet and tight…"
"She's not a virgin though Harry, so you don't have to be overly gentle. I assure you; she'll like it more if you go faster."
Hermione doesn't protest her mother's words, so Harry starts speeding up more, pushing in deep and pressing up against her cervix, and then pulling out to begin thrusting in and out of her, again and again. Hermione's eyes are wide at the sensations she's feeling. Harry is much bigger than Ron, and Ron was the only other man she'd ever been with. No man's cock had ever gone so far as to kiss her cervix before Harry's. Ron might have taken her virginity, but Harry was going deeper than Ronald ever could have, so in a way, Harry was in fact claiming an even deeper virginity, an even more meaningful one.
As he fucks her, Emma never stops encouraging him, her mother running her hands through Hermione's hair and egging Harry on to fuck her daughter harder and faster. Once in a while, she also gives Hermione some advice, like telling her to let her voice out when she's clearly trying to hold it in by biting her lower lip.
It makes sense though, Harry DOES deserve to hear her, he does deserve to know he's doing it right. Crying out, Hermione orgasms, her first ever orgasm at the end of a man's cock. It ripples through her body even as Hermione gasps in surprise. She hadn't… she hadn't known that sex could give women orgasms. Oh sure, she'd had orgasms before, but they'd all been brought on by her own hands or toys, or even a liberal application of the right kinds of magic.
That had always made sense to Hermione. After all, a woman's genitals were a lot more complex than that of a man's. A woman would know herself best, so obviously the man couldn't be expected to know how to bring her off, right? This was what Hermione had believed for years now, ever since she'd married Ron. She'd never held it against him, but that was only because she'd never known better.
As Harry takes her to pound town under her mother's experienced tutelage, as he fucks Hermione right there in front of Emma, Hermione feels even more anger and bitterness towards her failure of a husband. Harry makes sex feel so good, he's fucking her so deep, and now Hermione knows that Ron… Ron can never measure up. Not in a million years.
Crying out again, Hermione orgasms once more around Harry's cock, her inner walls tightening and squeezing most harshly around his member. Harry lets out a groan, and then looks up at Emma, something Hermione doesn't fail to notice, even if she can't currently see her mother's face at the moment. Still, she can hear the smile in Emma's tone.
"Getting close, Harry? Well, at the end of the day you know who you have to ask~"
Nodding, Harry looks down into Hermione's eyes again, and she finds herself almost getting lost in the emerald-green of his own as they stare at each other.
"I'm going to cum soon, Hermione… where do you want it?"
Hermione's blush only intensifies at that thought. She shouldn't… she couldn't… if she lets him cum inside, with the possibility of getting her pregnant, she'll be doing even worse than cheating on Ron, won't she? She'll be outright cuckolding him, if Harry breeds her and she gives birth to his child instead of Ronald's. Not that Ron's pathetic cock has managed to produce any seed capable of impregnating Hermione in the two years that they've been together. And he's certainly tried often enough.
Resolve firming up, Hermione meets Harry's eyes as she comes to a decision. Why not give her best friend (and the man she's secretly loved all her life) have a try at this point?
"I-Inside, Harry… I want you to cum inside…"
Harry looks surprised momentarily, before her words seem to awaken something even greater and hungrier within him. With a growl, he leans in and begins thrusting away again, fucking her even harder than before. Hermione yelps, squeals, and moans as she's pounded into most roughly, all while her head is still in her mother's lap, Emma's hands still ghosting and petting through Hermione's hair.
With a somewhat triumphant, guttural roar, Harry finally cums. He cums, and he does so inside of Hermione, filling her womb with his seed, pumping a nice thick load of white, hot jizz right up into her. His cockhead even pops directly into her womb for the release, finally pushing just past her cervix, which is half-battered down by this point as it gets rammed in a way it's never been rammed before.
As Harry cums, Hermione's eyes roll back in her head and her back arches as she cries out in ecstasy, experiencing a mind-shattering orgasm right alongside the green-eyed wizard, her entire body shaking and spasming with her bliss and satisfaction. Then, she slumps back, exhausted and panting heavily, but oh so full and oh so satiated, Harry's seed filling her womb in a way Ron's never ever could have.
As Harry pulls out of her and leans back on his haunches, Hermione just… rests for a moment. Until Emma pipes up of course, her mother sounding most conniving.
"Mm, do you want to use IT, Harry?"
There's a pause, and then Harry chuckles.
"I suppose so."
And just like that, there's another Harry Potter in the doorway of the bedroom. Hermione's eyes light upon the time turner around the naked Harry's neck, and she puts two and two together quite quickly. Effectively, Harry is risking a paradox for… sexual escapades. Something of Hermione's disapproval must show on her face, because Harry smirks down at her and cocks an eyebrow.
"Better than using it to listen to Binns ramble on, eh?"
Blushing at the reminder of how she'd used the hell out of a time turner in her third year just to take more classes, only to realize how many of Hogwarts' electives were utterly worthless, Hermione closes her mouth and doesn't actually voice her concerns, even as the second Harry makes his way over to the bed, and takes hold of Emma, pushing her down beside her.
Hermione can only watch as this new Harry, Harry from the future, crawls on top of her mother in a sixty-nine, feeding his cock into Emma's throat and in turn sticking his head between the voluptuous MILF's thighs. Hermione gets to watch as Harry's tongue elongates like a snake's and slides into her mother's cunt, only for the original Harry's cock to suddenly land on her own face.
In her distraction, the Harry that just got done fucking her is rubbing his messy dick all over her face, and though Hermione is disgusted for a moment, her nostrils flare and she breathes in his musk, and arousal takes over a moment later. Moaning wantonly, the beautiful brunette begins to slurp and lick and lap at Harry's mammoth-sized member, cleaning him up until finally, he just shoves his cock into her mouth and down her throat.
With her head tilted backwards, it makes for the perfect angle for Harry to lean over her just a bit, though not all the way. He thrusts away into her esophagus, causing Hermione to choke and gag on his dick, all while grabbing and squeezing her tits with both hands, playing with them rather roughly, massaging, kneading, and outright mauling her breasts as Hermione gurgles around his dick.
"Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!"
He spends a little while getting himself nice and lubed up on her throat, as well as fully hard again, and then he pulls out, just like that. In the background, Emma and Harry from the future are still going at it, but Hermione is more focused on what her Harry's intentions for her are, as he flips her over quite suddenly onto her front, and sits down on the back of her legs, grabbing hold of her ass and squeezing it firmly.
He gropes and squeezes her bottom, and before Hermione can get a word in edgewise, he spreads her butt cheeks apart, spits on her asshole, and begins to feed his lubed-up cock into her back door, right then and there. Here, Hermione is definitely a virgin, and that more than anything else keeps her from trying to refuse him. She wants Harry to claim her in ways that Ron never has. She wants him to make her his, to take her from her husband and fuck her soundly in every orifice.
And that's exactly what happens. Not just for Hermione, but Emma too, now that there are two Harrys working in unison. With Harry of the present fucking Hermione, Harry from the future is all too happy to go to town on Emma Granger, satisfying himself on the Grade A MILF's delicious holes, fucking her face, her cunt, her ass, all of them, even as Hermione gets the same treatment.
The two Harrys fuck the Granger women silly, taking turns pounding the mother-daughter duo into sweet, sweet oblivion. Its hours before they're done, hours before Harry of the present finally has to get up and grab the time turner that Harry from the future used, putting it around his neck and disappearing with a turn of the device. In that moment, he goes back in time to become Harry from the future and turns Harry from the future into Harry of the present.
It's a little mind-boggling, but Hermione has always been a very smart witch indeed. Still, as she lays there, her mind reeling from everything that's happened, she's a little surprised when Harry of the present leaves for a time, only to come back with wrapped gifts. He smiles apologetically at Hermione as she sits up, looking at the beautiful boxes in confusion.
"Sorry about missing all those birthdays, Mione. I thought about sending the gifts anyways, but I knew how the Weasleys would react if I sent you stuff and them nothing… and I wasn't going to send them jack shit. Especially not Ron. I figured it would be better for both of us if I stayed away, but I never stopped thinking about you… and I know now that I was wrong to avoid you, these last five years. These are for you."
There are tears in Hermione's eyes are she unwraps each gift. From beautiful foreign dresses clearly obtained on his travels to absolutely gorgeous jewelry, to amazingly ancient magical tomes that Hermione immediately recognized and wanted nothing more than to read through from front to back… the gifts were one and all, perfect.
When she's done, Hermione flings herself at Harry, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply as she comes to a simple, startling conclusion. She doesn't have to leave the magical world for the muggle one. Wizarding Britain is not the end-all, be-all of magic. All she has to do… is leave Ron for Harry and let Harry in turn show her the wonders of the world that are out there.
She was finally, finally where she belonged.
-x-X-x-
"It's just so dumb, mom. Sure, I still have a year left at Hogwarts, but I'll hit the age of majority before Winter Break! What right does HE have to tell me what I can and cannot do with my body?"
Hermione smiles sympathetically as her daughter vents to her over breakfast, the two enjoying a nice morning out at a small place located along the French Riviera. The end of the summer is just around the corner though, and Rose Granger-Weasley is just about to return to Hogwarts for her final year. She, her mother, and her grandmother have been vacationing in France all summer long, with their male chaperone, Harry Potter, ever at their side.
Needless to say, neither of them need to expand on who 'HE' is. Rose Granger-Weasley is the only child of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, before their ultimate break up. Hermione's ex-husband, for all his faults, had still played a heavy role in his daughter's life. More than likely because his mother Molly Weasley had boxed him around the ears until he'd done so.
Still, when Rose had begun to grow into the beautiful witch that she was now, when all of her mother and grandmother's good genes had begun to present themselves and puberty had run it's course, causing her to start looking at boys and boys to start looking at her in turn, Ron had been all too willing to step in and forbid Rose from dating or even kissing anyone until she had graduated from Hogwarts. His words, to be exact, were 'I won't have a scarlet woman for a daughter!'
Never mind the fact that Hermione had told her daughter about all of her father's dalliances during HIS years at Hogwarts. For all that there weren't that many of them. It was obvious to anyone with two braincells that Ronald Weasley was a bitter man who felt shafted by life… or perhaps just by his former best friend. Personally, Rose thought her father was a total jackass, and more than once had wished she wasn't related to him by blood.
Her stepdad on the other hand, was amazing. Harry James Potter… needless to say, Rose had grown up in a post-Voldemort world like everyone her age, and it was impossible NOT to hear the stories, even if Ron had tried and failed to poison her against the Man-Who-Won. The rest of the Weasley Family was a bit more on the fence about Harry. They'd been less so after he married her mom, but by that point the hero worship had set in already anyways.
In Rose's eyes, Harry James Potter was the greatest wizard that ever lived. Not because he was the most powerful, though that also had the side benefit of being true, but because he took such great care of her and her mom. He was always there for them, and every summer Hermione and Harry took Rose and her grandmother Emma on some vacation to some exotic locale somewhere in the world.
Rose always had the time of her life, while at the same time learning new magics from whatever place they found themselves. She was just as voracious a seeker of knowledge as her mother, at the end of the day. Meanwhile, Hermione and Emma always seemed so happy and relaxed by the end of their trips. Rose was no child, not anymore. She knew that it was Harry who made them both so happy, who took care of their needs… in many different ways.
"Rose, you don't have to listen to Ronald's directives if you don't have to. Yes, he is your father. Yes, you should respect him, for all that he's never really been deserving of respect by anyone. And yes, you were a child until this year… but that's in the past. You're right, you're a young woman now, and you've grown up into such a beautiful, smart witch."
Her mother always knows what words to say. By the time Hermione is finished, Rose is smiling at her, eyes a little watery from sheer happiness.
"Thanks, mom…"
Smiling right back, Hermione reaches over and squeezes one of Rose's hands, before returning to their meal. After a few moments, however, she continues the conversation.
"Is there a boy at school that has your eye, Rose? You could make a move this year, if you like. Ronald can't stop you; he wouldn't dare. Besides, in his eyes it's probably around the time that you should be settling down and finding a man anyways."
The way Hermione says that last sentence and rolls her eyes at the same time tells Rose that her mother doesn't believe one lick of it herself. Truth be told, neither does Rose, the very idea causing her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. Hermione had raised her daughter well and done her level best to make sure Rose wouldn't repeat the same mistakes as she did.
The biggest mistake Hermione felt she'd ever made was marrying Ron right out of Hogwarts, rushing into things as she did. Of course, Rose was a direct product of that mistake, but Hermione always made sure to assure her beloved daughter that she was in no way, shape, or form a mistake herself. Hermione loved Rose with all her heart, and truth be told, Rose felt that every day of her life in the things her mother did for her.
Yes, Rose had no desire to settle down and marry a man and start a family right out of Hogwarts like her mom had. Especially not when Hermione definitely regretted it. Rose was going to travel abroad and continue her studies into foreign magic when she was finished with Hogwarts. She wanted to be a magical researcher, to catalog all the strange forms of magic that British Wizards and Witches seemed to have forgotten… and even some of the things that they'd been so desperate to make forbidden.
But, her father's rampant misogyny aside, Rose focuses on the other part of her mother's words, the first question.
"There's no boy at school that has my eye, mom. Honestly… they're all just so childish."
Rose lets out a loud sigh at that, digging into her meal with her fork for a moment and frowning down at her plate. Hermione stays quiet, allowing her daughter to gather her thoughts. This was another reason that they had such a good relationship. They were quite similar, in the end. Where someone else might have laughed off Rose's words as the attempt of an almost-adult trying to act like an actual adult, Hermione knew exactly what her daughter meant.
After all, Hermione Granger had experienced the exact same thing growing up. And before her, her mother Emma had as well. They were simply too intelligent, the women of their bloodline. Genius-level intellects, the lot of them, and from the cradle at that, it seemed. Was it any wonder that magic had decided to… insert itself into their family and latch on to such brilliant witches? If magic was sentient (and sometimes Harry seemed to think it WAS) then it made perfect sense for it to try to interject some new blood in the form of brilliant souls like Hermione (and Lily Evans) into the magical world.
But, as things stood, Hermione completely agrees with her daughter's words, and thus allows Rose to gather her thoughts and figure out what she wants to say further. Eventually, she looks up and makes eye contact with her mother as she speaks from the heart.
"I don't… I can't see myself with any of them, to be honest. Dad's a misogynistic jackass, sure, but even you've taught me to have self-respect and pride in my own body, to look after myself in that way. I'm not going to let just anyone snog me in a broom closet, even if there have been more than a few boys who have expressed interest the last few years. But that's just it… they're all BOYS. I want someone like you have, mom. I want someone more mature, more masculine. I want… I want a real man."
At the end there, Rose is blushing and averting her gaze again. It's about as close as the young woman is willing to get to saying that she wants someone like her stepfather. But they both know that's exactly what she means. And why shouldn't she? Yes, Harry puts most other men to shame in many, many ways, but even if he is the pinnacle of romantic partners, that just means more guys should be striving to live up to the expectations that HE puts down.
It's not like the way Harry acts is impossible to emulate or anything like that. What it really boils down to is the fact that most men are pigs, and Rose isn't entirely sure she'll ever find one that can truly match her stepfather. Maybe one day she'll have to settle… but there's not a single boy her age at Hogwarts who she can see herself settling with, that's for sure.
Regardless, her confession is met by a contemplative silence from Hermione, who eventually just makes a somewhat noncommittal noise in the back of her throat and simply nods.
"… I see."
They move onto other topics after that, and Hermione soon has Rose talking all about the intricacies of the French Magical World's unique way of enchanting and cursing and warding specific objects to be able to do certain tasks or cause certain types of harm to hapless fools who try to steal them. But the older witch doesn't forget what her daughter has said… and in the back of her mind, an idea, shameless and perverse and debauched, is beginning to take shape.
-x-X-x-
Three months later, Rose can't deny that she's insanely happy to be away from Hogwarts for Winter Break. And to spend the Christmas Holidays in Hawaii of all places… it's just plain beautiful. Her actual birthday was a week ago, of course, but only now has she been able to get away from school and meet up with her mom, grandma, and stepfather for a winter vacation under the Hawaiian sun.
However, while the first day there is amazing, it's after dinner that things get a little strange, when Hermione pulls her aside and gives her a smile… and a room key.
"I've arranged a little something for you, sweetheart."
Blinking numbly, Rose looks down at the room key in confusion, but nonetheless reaches out to take it. Hermione holds on for a moment though, tightening her grip as she looks her daughter in the eye and cocks an eyebrow while grinning just a bit.
"Unless you found a boy at Hogwarts who meets your expectations since we last spoke on this?"
Rose's eyes widen slightly as she immediately picks up on what her mother is saying, the clever girl. Her mind goes back to that day on the Riviera and she blushes a bit as she ducks her head and gives it a quick shake.
"No, mom… no one…"
Hermione lets go of the room key, and Rose looks down at it in a bit of wonder and trepidation.
"Very good then. Room Sixty-Nine, that's where you're headed."
Oh jeez, now she's blushing even more. Did her mother HAVE to be such a massive pervert about this? And yet, Rose trusts her mom implicitly. If this is what it sounds like, which… it sounds like it's what it sounds like for sure, then Hermione has… set her up with a man. But there's no way that after their conversation at the end of the summer, Hermione would just… get her a booty call or something for her birthday, right?
So that meant there was a guy that fit all of Rose's criteria waiting for her in Room Sixty-Nine. Not just a quick fuck, but… an actual relationship? To say Rose was a bit confused and a whole lot anxious would be an understatement, but nonetheless, she takes the room key and heads towards the proper room with purpose in her stride. The last three months at Hogwarts had only reaffirmed what Rose already knew. Every boy in her generation, at least in Great Britain, was a complete and utter idiot that she wanted nothing to do with. They all reminded her far too much of her misogynistic jackass of a father, truth be told.
If there was another option, Rose wanted to take it. She would seize it with both hands and never ever let go. Arriving outside of Room Sixty-Nine, Rose takes a fortifying breath and inserts the keycard, blowing hot air out of her nostrils as she opens the door and steps inside of the hotel suite.
There is in fact a man waiting there for her… but never in a million years did Rose expect to see her stepfather, her idol, and truth be told, her biggest wet dream sitting on the end of the bed, looking back at her with a knowing smile. Harry James Potter just gives Rose an understanding nod as her mouth opens and closes wordlessly, like a goldfish.
"Hey there, sweetie."
Eventually, Rose finds the ability to speak again. The first word out of her mouth is… perhaps not entirely appropriate given the situation.
"D-Daddy?"
Wincing a little, Harry stands and moves towards her, slowly, carefully, as if trying to avoid spooking her.
"Probably best to call me Harry tonight, love. Look, Rose, I won't beat around the bush. I've raised you like my daughter, yes… but we're not blood related. For longer than you've been alive, I've been taking care of your mom and your grandmother's needs… your grandmother's longer than your mother's, in fact. Now that you're of age, and happy birthday again by the way, sweetie, your mom is willing to share me, if you like."
Harry shrugs, a somewhat confident, cock-sure smile on his face that says he KNOWS it's what she'd like, even as he gives her an all too knowing look.
"If you don't want this, you can turn around and leave, sweetheart. But Hermione was pretty sure you'd jump at the chance to jump my-mmph!"
It's abundantly clear that Rose has made her decision when the red head cuts Harry off in the middle of his sentence to quite literally jump him. The nubile young woman leaps into his arms, wrapping her limbs around Harry's body like a spider monkey and clinging to him tightly as she smashes her lips against his and does her level best to stick her tongue down his throat.
Harry quickly assumes control of the situation though, his hands coming up to take hold of her ass and keep her from falling off him even as he sets himself like a tree trunk, barely rocked backwards by her weight. Meanwhile, his tongue wrestles Rose's tongue into submission and the young red head learns just how skilled of a kisser her stepfather is in short order. Of course, it probably helps that it's her first kiss altogether. Completely inexperienced, utterly innocent, all Rose can do is follow her instincts… and Harry's lead, of course.
Eventually, he carries her over to the bed and lays her down on it, his hands roaming over her body and massaging her until she relaxes her grip on him and lays back. Then, he begins pulling at her clothing. For the first day in Hawaii, Rose Granger-Weasley had of course gone with a cute little sundress. Which makes it all the easier to drag the dress off of her, pulling it over her head and revealing her gorgeous body underneath.
She's not quite at her mother or grandmother's level yet (and the fact that Harry had been fucking Emma Granger right alongside his wife all this time explained how the muggle woman was STILL drop dead gorgeous after all these years. Truly, Emma could still pass as Hermione's older sister rather than her mother.) but that doesn't mean Rose doesn't have her own feminine grace to her. She's no longer a child, that much is for certain, and if she needed any further confirmation of the fact, the way her idol and lifelong crush's eyes roam hungrily over her half-naked body only confirm it.
She's still got her bra and panties on, of course, and as Harry looks down at her, he eventually shifts his gaze back to her face, his eyes almost seeming to drill into her eyes as he grins slightly.
"Take them off for me, darling. Show me what you've got."
Rose shivers at the domineering tone in her stepfather's voice. How many times has she fantasized about exactly this thing happening? How many times as she wished that she could be Harry's wife instead of… instead of her mom. She feels a bit guilty about that now, truth be told, especially when her mother has proven so willing to share Harry with her.
Licking her lips, Rose reaches back behind herself, propping herself up on the bed for a moment and unclasping her bra. Once she's done that, she pulls it off of her shoulders and her body, revealing her breasts to the big, strong masculine wizard looming over her. He stares at her breasts, not quite as large as her mother's yet, but still very full and voluptuous in their own right, even as Rose hooks her thumbs into her panties and shimmies them down her legs and off of her ankles, revealing her freshly shaved mound and glistening wet pussy lips.
… What? Yes, Rose had considered losing her virginity in some small fling on this trip. She'd even prepared for the possibility. But that was right out the window now that she had her heart's desire standing in front of her, staring at and feasting upon her naked, nubile young body. Still, she was glad that she'd taken care of things like shaving off her bush and the like. She felt ready… she felt more than ready.
All too eager to begin, Rose shows that she's just as lewd and perverted as her mother, even as a virgin. Grabbing her ankles, she pulls her legs back behind her shoulders, sliding her arms down to her inner thighs and folding herself into a pretzel as she effectively frames her cunt and torso, pressing her breasts together enticingly in the process. Spreading her pussy lips open, Rose completes the image as she offers herself to her stepfather, totally and utterly. She's not going to call him daddy, because he asked her not to… but at the same time, referring to him by his first name in these circumstances feels somewhat disrespectful. Instead, Rose goes with her gut.
"Please, sir… please fuck me."
Harry doesn't need to be begged twice, thankfully. With a simple flick of his fingers, he vanishes his own clothing. Rose doesn't have much more than a few seconds to stare and gawp at his big, fat cock though. He's on the bed and kissing her a moment later, one hand behind her head, in her hair, as the other guides his cock into her. Rose cries out into Harry's mouth as he takes her virginity, but she's more than wet enough that the pain is fleeting at most.
Her entire body shudders and shakes as he begins to fuck her in a vigorous, rough mating press. With his member now inside of her, his hand is freed up to move to Rose's breast, massaging and groping and squeezing the ex-virgin's breasts one after the other. It's just one big series of firsts for Rose Granger-Weasley, truth be told. She's never so much as kissed a boy, let alone be felt up by one. So not only is she getting fucked for the first time, she's also getting groped and molested as well… it's phenomenal, but it's also proving to be too much for the young woman.
The sensory overload soon has Rose experiencing her first climax at the hands of a man. She's so very glad that it's Harry, because truth be told, she wasn't sure she wanted it to be anyone else, not ever. She'd just never allowed herself to admit it, not even internally. Harry was supposed to be her mom's after all, he was more her father than Ron ever was… and yet, now he was also her lover, and proving to be an absolutely exquisite lover at that.
Rose's eyes roll back in her head, and for a few moments she whites out from the pleasure, her entire world zeroing in on a pinpoint before ultimately expanding again as another mind-blowing orgasm takes her and then leaves her. Her tight insides clench and cling and squeeze to Harry's cock for what feels like an eternity before he lets out a grunt and speaks the magic words.
"I'm getting close, sweetie…"
He's asking her where she wants it. Rose is her mother's daughter after all, and quick as a whip. Shuddering, collecting herself so she can speak, Rose makes eye contact with her stepfather and voices her desires clearly and concisely.
"I-Inside… I want it inside."
Harry just smiles in understanding and nods, and a moment later he's cumming inside of her. Rose tosses her head back, arching her spine as best she can in her current pretzel position as she moans wantonly and lewdly, feeling the sensation of a man, of Harry Potter no less, filling her with his white, hot seed for the very first time. The creampie feels phenomenal, and she's pretty sure Harry gets all the way to her womb with his cock and his load both, though truthfully, she's never been fucked before, so she can't say for certain.
When he begins to pull out, however, Rose can only whimper. Harry steps back, and the red head quickly extricates herself from her folded-up position, clamoring off of the bed and onto the floor to kneel at her stepfather's feet and take his cock in her hands and mouth. She doesn't want this to end yet, so despite the fact that she's never done this before and is working purely off instinct, Rose begins to suck and slurp at Harry's member, trying to entice him to fuck her again, to plow her silly all night long.
Harry, seeming to sense her intentions and her desperation, just chuckles as he places a hand atop her head, smiling.
"No need to worry, love. We're far from done… that was just the warmup."
Rose's heart sings, though she nearly jumps out of her skin when another pair of hands suddenly comes down on her shoulders from behind. Wrenching her head back, Harry's cock leaving her mouth with a sloppy popping noise, Rose looks back, confused as all hell to who could be behind her. She half-expects her mother or grandmother to suddenly be there, and she's not sure how to feel about that… but what she actually finds is much, much stranger.
A second Harry potter looks down at her with a smile, even as he slides his strong, masculine hands down from her shoulders along her arms, eventually taking hold of her hips and pulling her back and up, lifting her to her feet. Rose ends up bent over in the middle of the two Harrys at a ninety-degree angle, her face still next to the cock of the one who just got done taking her virginity, while her derriere and creampied pussy are most accessible to the newcomer.
"Oh? Finish up with Hermione, did you?"
"Aye, that I did. And I'm sure that Third will be done with Emma soon enough, now that Mione is out for the night. You know how competitive the two of them can be."
Rose's Harry chuckles and nods, while Rose is just… confused. But she's also still horny as all hell, so when the new Harry thrusts into her still very sensitive cunt from behind and begins to fuck her with rough, pounding thrusts, Rose just moans wantonly and takes the first Harry back into her mouth, bobbing up and down on his cock while getting plowed. This was what her research had called a spit-roast, wasn't it?
Truth be told, Rose had never expected to be part of a spit-roast. She wasn't that kind of girl. But… if it was two Harry Potters, then she was pretty sure most witches would turn out to be 'that kind of girl'. As it is, getting fucked in both ends by her lifelong crush, man of her dreams, and overall idol was something Rose enjoyed very, very much, moaning wantonly into Harry's cock while getting plowed from behind.
Eventually, they both cum again… and that's about when 'Third' as the second Harry called him, arrived. That's when Rose learns all about anal, the Harry who'd already had her mouth and cunt moving to take her ass, while the one who had just her cunt moves to her mouth, leaving her twice-creampied pussy free for the newest Harry.
Rose finds herself getting gangbanged all night long by the trio of men. Their big, fat cocks fill her in ways she's never been filled before, and the nubile young woman proves to have an energy about her that neither her mother nor her grandmother can hope to match at this point. Rose is just too vivacious, too vibrant, too energetic. She's a former virgin who's being shown the ropes of sex for the first time in her life, and she embraces it wholeheartedly, all too eagerly.
Even anal is something Rose immensely enjoys, especially when another cock is filling her cunt at the same time that her bowels are getting ravaged. Being double penetrated while sucking on a third cock is… a truly wondrous experience for the young woman, and she cums more than she's ever cum in her life, orgasming around the multitude of big fat cocks over and over and over again. Her fingers will never be good enough after this… in fact, no other man will ever be good enough after this.
Hermione and Emma eventually arrive a little while later, the two older women having recovered from their own respective plowings and watching from the door with wide smiles on their faces as Rose enjoys her birthday present immensely. Both her mother and her grandmother know that Harry is ruining Rose for anyone else, for any other man… and they're perfectly okay with that.
After all, Rose is going to go traveling abroad. She won't have time for a real romantic relationship, she won't have time for a boyfriend or a fiancé or even a husband. But her doting stepfather who can travel across the entire world with his immensely powerful magic at any time? That, Rose will almost certainly make time for. That, she'll even look forward to.
In the end… they're just keeping things in the family, where they belong.
-x-X-x-
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