"Mom! What are you wearing?"
Harry's eyes crossed as he saw the tiny apron clinging to her front. The steaming pot in her hand wafted smoking haze upward, creating a veil of steam to hide her gorgeous face. The vision reminded him of the Playwizard page Dean showed him last year. Of a witch emerging from a cloud with her wings flared—a mockery of an angel's gown cut around her voluptuous figure.
Even that covered the blond witch more thoroughly than his mom's current dress.
Harry gulped as his mom put the pot on the dining table and glided across.
"Why, love? Don't you like mommy's new dress?" His mom purred. A shiver ran through his spine, goosebumps erupting as she leaned forward.
"Yeah…but—" without the haze, her eyes hypnotized him. He stared helplessly at the cleavage her perfect breasts created, dangling in front of him, beckoning him for a taste.
"Mommy wore it just for her baby…" Harry's cock twinged and he realized he was sitting for breakfast naked, wondering when exactly the Potters had become so liberal with their clothes.
A sweet, floral scent floated as his mom bent further, her hanging perfect breast now inches from his face.
"So…do you want the stew I made?" Harry could barely focus on his mom's sweet, sweet words. "Or something meatier?"
"Mea...MMMMMPPHHH…" His eyes closed as his mom pushed her tities in his face, his nose pushing into her cleavage.
"Mmmoooommm…" Harry groaned, his voice getting lost in the vast expanse of flesh. His face was slapped from both sides, color rushing into them as he was pushed this way and that as his mom started shaking her udders without rhyme or rhythm.
Harry breathed through swallow pants; gathering necessary oxygen became a chore as he was forced to motorboat the fat, fucking tits without a notice.
"Yes, baby…yes!"
"Mom!"
"Ungghh…!"
A groan from above and a rough twist of his mother's torso slapped his cheek hard and Harry Potter jerked awake, gasping as two huge balloon-like tits suffocated him just like his dream.
"W…wot?" His groggy voice reached out, but it was smothered immediately. However, the identity of the smotherer above him didn't remain a mystery for long.
"I should be offended, you know? Moaning Lily's name after you unloaded so much inside me…" his godmother's tremor jogged back his memory of the last night.
A shit-eating grin formed on his face before his hands rose and clasped around the bulging flesh of pale tities. He was thankful. Unlike his dream, his limbs obeyed his command in the real world. His elation, though, quickly turned into despair as he realized the woman he was just dreaming about.
How the fuck was he going to face his mother again?
A cold hand found its way to his slumbering dick, cutting across the fog of despair.
"You have taken enough liberty with my body last night, Harry. Now it's my turn."
And just like that, he was dragged back to the debauchery. His mood shifted faster than the most volatile potions' hues.
After all, he still had a few days till his return home and worry about facing his mom.
I will deal with it when the time comes.
The weight of two orbs lifted from his face as his godmother swung her legs over his prone form and sat upright. Her eyes shone with an unholy passion, her teeth running across her bottom lip as she panted above his form, palming his dick with both hands.
Harry's vision flitted from her mussed-up blond locks to her beautiful face, to her breasts heaving like two ripened melons, and finally to her red-abused-looking cunt lips—just kissing his purplish cockhead.
Harry swallowed; his eyes fixed on, as his blond godmother twerked above him, her dewy pussy lips gliding and teasing his meat. He barely stopped his hips from raising, letting Aunt Alice set the pace. For the time being.
After all, there was nothing like spending your morning wood inside a busty blond.
Bang! Bang!
The sudden thumping of the door rang loudly throughout the room, startling both. Aunt Alice almost jumped out of her skin and tumbled beside his body.
"Harry! Are you up, yet?"
Harry Potter had always liked Nevile. He had been his closest friend growing up. Much closer than the other assholes. But at the time he couldn't help but curse the bastard and wondered if he should finish what Voldemort started all those years ago.
Seeing a panicking Longbottom matriarch race to the bathroom with all her delectable curves jiggling, Harry had an epiphany that maybe the dark lord had a premonition of the cockblock that his godbrother would turn out to be and thought about eliminating the nuisance.
"Just wait a minute."
Harry searched for his boxers all around the room, muttering about bastard godbrothers. He donned the previous day's haphazardly thrown clothes before plastering a sleepy smile, hands raised to unlock the door.
His hands stalled at the last moment.
Wait! Had Nevile gotten the whiff of what he was up to with his mom?
Harry surely hoped not. His nervous godbrother could be quite scary when needed. Harry had a feeling that debasing his mother might be such an occasion. Not having any excuse to delay anymore, he opened the door a fraction, squinting in the bright corridor outside.
"G'd mrng, Nev." Harry yawned even though he was mainly checking his godbrother's expressions and wondering if he needed to bolt from the wizard's vicinity.
No such murderous looks formed on the boy who lived's face.
Harry sighed. Crisis averted. Now he only had to ensure that Nevile didn't enter his room and discover the lingering evidence from the previous night.
"I need your help mate!" Nevile asked out of the blue, expression panicky and abrupt.
"Hmm?" Harry's mind searched for any recent events that Nevile would be this fidgety about.
"My next match! It's with Fleur!"
The name blared in his head like a blaring siren, sending a jolt of panic through his body. A deep furrow formed on his forehead, creasing his face with worry. Was he losing his sharpness? Or perhaps his thoughts were scattering like leaves in the wind? Harry could acknowledge, with brutal honesty, that ever since he had indulged in the captivating pleasures of the flesh, his mind had become a haze of distractions.
He was so distracted, in fact, that he couldn't even recognize his own mother.
No! She was just damn skillful in her charmwork!
As much as Harry liked to console himself, he knew if his thoughts weren't concentrated on Lisa's perfectly formed breast and her tight bouncy arse, then surely, he would have gotten the hint of her real identity.
"Harry…"
Harry shook his head, focusing on Nevile. He couldn't admit that he was absent yesterday and thus had no idea what happened. So, he chose the safest option, dragging Nevile by the hand and taking him to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee.
"Why don't you explain your plan, then I will add my two sickles."
Hopefully, that will give him enough info to bullshit his way out of trouble. The name, though…why did the name make him shiver?
"Hey Harry, do you know my mom's room number? I haven't seen her this morning."
"No…no idea. Maybe some other floor?"
"Can't believe I haven't asked where she is staying."
Please don't! Harry prayed that Nevile never got the knowledge of that.
-oOo-
Bellatrix sipped from her cup while staring ahead, decidedly avoiding meeting her sisters' eyes. Getting caught by them in such a position would have been bad enough, but the things that followed…
Anastasia hadn't even come out of her room, probably too embarrassed to show her face. She, however, was always the most audacious of the bunch, and getting caught with a witch barely fazed her. Only if that was the issue.
"Nothing has changed." Andromeda blurted out suddenly, eyes glued to the local newspaper.
"How…How could you say that?" Bellatrix could hear the frustration in Cissa's voice.
Not surprising, considering Narcissa always had a jealous streak. Well, she was hardly better. Maybe she wasn't so upset because she hadn't tasted the goods like her other two sisters. Or maybe she was turned on by the way Lily's son so thoroughly manhandled Alice and wanted to join them rather than take her place. After all, she was the most liberal regarding the matters of flesh.
"Alice is a non-issue for us. We caught them having sex…big deal." Bellatrix gaped along with her little sis at Andi's nonchalance. "It's actually helpful this time."
"What the… are you even listening to what is coming out of your big mouth?" Narcissa barely controlled her voice. "Alice is much closer to Harry than us. She is his godmother, for fuck's sake. She will have a much better chance of hooking her claws into him if she wishes."
Bellatrix thought about teasing Cissa about her language. Nah! Better to stay silent for the time being and not bring their wraith in her direction.
"It is good for us because Alice will now keep his eyes glued to her instead of letting them wander toward some French hussy."
"Yeah! And keep his eyes from us as well!"
Andi gave that smug smirk that had always grated on her nerves in her younger days, as if she knew something that she would only reveal according to her whims.
"My dear Cissa, you are forgetting that Alice is not only the matriarch of the Longbottom family but also the mother of the boy who lived." Andi leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms across and nosing down in their direction. "Her every action is always scrutinized by the public and the press. Maybe that's why she whisked Harry across the pond before seducing him. I'm sure she wants the affair completely hidden."
"So…"
Her eldest sister rolled her eyes. "This just means that she is only looking for a fling, nothing serious. Maybe friends with…Sorry, Godmother with benefits kind of relationship. Add her friendship with Lily and the stigma attached to their age difference and godmother status…"
A look of understanding crossed Cissa's face, but Bellatrix had a question of her own. "Wouldn't that be an issue for you? You are the oldest among us. I doubt Lily will allow her son to have a serious relationship with you."
"Harry didn't think I was too old, did he?" Andi's smirk wiped away at the reminder of her age. "And I couldn't care less what people say about me."
"And Lily? Shouldn't you be in the same boat as Alice, being close friends with Lily and still betraying her?" Narcissa asked, leaning forward and eyes bright.
Bella wondered if that question had bothered Cissa herself. As much as she portrayed herself as the Ice-queen and a heartless bitch, Bella was aware that Narcissa indeed was very fond of Lily.
And for her…she could only imagine the look on Lily's face after finding out about her relationship with Harry.
"I have a plan regarding that." And there it was, the scheming look on Andi's face that had made the Black sisters so formidable.
Her eyes turned as a handsome eagle owl swooped inside their room, carrying a velum in his talon. The owl flew straight in her direction before perching on the dining table and sticking his leg out. Bellatrix exchanged a quizzical glance with her sisters before taking the letter. The owl seemed to wait for just that, spreading his wings and flying away without looking back.
Bellatrix barely kept her eyes from twitching from the disrespect.
"Wonder who is it from?" Andi chimed out.
Bellatrix herself wondered about that. Her fingers unfurled the vellum before her eyes took in the content.
My lovely Bella,
How I missed thee —
Her eyes grew large as she carried on, hardly believing what was written in the vellum.
"Whose that from?"
Her eldest sister's voice cut across her thought and she quickly crumbled the vellum in her hands, springing from her seat.
"I have to go!" she shouted.
"Go where?" Narcissa asked.
"Um… Back home. Blaise's messed up again."
"Messed up? Isn't he taking Wizengamot lessons from Madam Pembroke?" Andromeda coughed as Narcissa said that out loud. "That woman could have straightened up the dark lord, given a chance."
Bellatrix grimaced, realizing her mistake. Their parents, like every pureblood house, had sent all three of them to the famed taskmaster in their youth for education. That woman, or rather vulture, couldn't keep a single teenager in line — even the thought was more than laughable. Her sisters seemed aware of that.
"Yeah! It's serious." Bellatrix said, pushing the vellum inside her robe pocket. "I guess age has finally caught up with her."
Before her sisters could stop her and ask another dozen questions, she wavered on her feet and rushed to her room.
"And what about Harry?" Andi's voice floated from her behind and she waved off.
"Let him come back home."
She stormed from the living room, ignoring the following question from Cissa.
After all, she doesn't need them anymore.
-oOo-
"I would rather stay here." Harry was seconds away from begging. If the situation demanded, he would. His eyes flitted over the back of his naked godmother, who styled her hair with her wand. He saw the dress lying across the bed, along with the sky-blue bra and dark blue thong.
"And leave your dear aunt at the mercy of all those French wizards? Surely you aren't that cruel?"
"I doubt they will mess with an auror." Harry grimaced. "A famous one like you."
"Don't be a baby, dear. Just get ready."
In a normal situation, Harry would have no problem attending a wizarding ball arranged for the quarter-finalists and their families, but after realizing whom Neville was talking about…No, thank you. He had no fetish for a violent veela. Well, not anymore.
"Nevile was asking about your room. About which floor you are supposed to be staying on?" Harry said. He wondered if the threat of Nevile finding out about their living arrangements could deter her from taking him to the ball.
"Don't worry about that, love. I will deal with Nevile." Alice rolled her eyes at him.
Harry whined and begged, but she remained unmoved, dressing in front of him without shame.
Damn it, I would rather be back home.
His mother's smoky gaze flitted into his mind's eye along with her cum glazed face. Harry Potter sprang from the bed, panting as he tried to purge that image from his mind.
Fucking hell…I'm doomed either way.
-oOo-
Harry tried not to fidget as his godmother fussed over Nevile's appearance. She patted the visibly red boy and straightened his robes. Harry, at least, was grateful that she seemed to like him being rough around the ages. The dresses that Aunt Alice had brought for him seemed to be tight, especially in the chest for the shirt and the seams and groin for the slacks. He wondered why.
"I'm jealous," Nevile whispered in his ear after getting out of his mother's fussing. "She doesn't seem to mind you not looking at your best."
"You're wrong, mate. I always look my best." Harry said before a grin crept into his lips. "Maybe your mom knows her future daughter-in-law will be there and wants to make you a good impression."
Nevile sputtered before stumbling away from him, right toward his mom.
"Come here, Harry. We have dallied enough." Aunt Alice called out, shooing Nevile ahead.
Not enough. Standing in this garden where the portkey had deposited them for the entire night seemed like a better idea than entering the bustling ballroom. His godmother probably realized what was going on in his mind because she gave him a pointed look, beckoning him.
Damn it! Harry Potter fell onto the steps alongside his godmother, dreading a certain meeting with a certain someone at the ball.
They followed the clear path made between the hydrangea bushes, splattered with fairies flitting from enchanted light to light. The sound of music floated from a large manor along with laughter and a cacophony of French and English phrases.
Aunt Alice showed the chauffeur an invitation card, who bowed and ushered them inside.
"Stay close to me, both of you." Aunt Alice mumbled between flashing her perfected smile. "You will be good deterrents for some inebriated fools."
Harry was more than happy to hear that. Even though he couldn't see Nev's face, his disappointment was evident from his slouch. Tough luck, mate. You wouldn't get any help from me about getting with the veela.
"There…" Aunt Alice steered them toward a portly wizard. "The minister of Magic. We have to greet him. C'mon Nevile, Harry."
Harry kept his eyes downward, stepping aside some stragglers and following behind the Longbottoms. His steps halted as a witch possessing Hagrid's girth waddled in front of him, dragging an alarmed wizard to the dance floor. He waited patiently, mouth twitching as the witch won the tug of war, wondering how the thin wizard was going to twirl her in between steps. He was about to walk ahead when a gloved hand closed around his palm, stalling him forcefully.
Turning in alarm, Harry's eyes widened as the identity of his accoster registered in his mind, along with the dress that she was wearing.
Fucking hell…
-oOo-
"Mr Longbottom! Lady Longbottom! It's an honor." Alice Longbottom smiled as the smarmy wizard pressed his lips against her knuckles. She recoiled in disgust as the wizard's lips lingered on her skin far longer than what decorum necessitated. She would have to disinfect her hands the first chance she got, especially if the rumors about the minister's proclivities had even a hint of truth in them.
"Thank you for inviting us, minister." Alice said. "It is a lovely event that you had put together."
Alice watched as the minister preened. His eyes subtly glanced from her son's forehead to her chest. Should she be proud that her breasts could compete for attention with Nevile's scar? A snort escaped her, which she covered by clearing her throat.
"How do you do, minister?" Nevile asked, getting the hint the minister was awestruck by his legend.
"Huh… wonderful, Mr. Longbottom. Simply wonderful. And might I again convey what an honor it is that you participated in this year." The dirty blond mustache of the wizard quivered. "I'm sure dueling at this level barely challenges you. Why, I have put a bet about you winning the entire thing without breaking a sweat."
"I…I'm not sure about that, minister. There are a lot of participants with extraordinary skills still left."
"Don't be so modest, Nevile." The wizard gave a passable imitation of seemingly contrite. "May I call you that, my boy?"
Smarmy git! Trying to butter up her son.
"Sure. No prob—"
Alice frowned as her son trailed off, slowly turning red. Her eyes followed his line of sight before a smirk tugged her lips.
Well, if it wasn't her son's opponent. The beautiful girl's skill had impressed her throughout the matches—especially her uses of charmwork and the speed of her spell casting. A bit of skepticism had entered her whether her son could keep up with the beauty. But with this fresh knowledge…
Tough luck, Nevile. Still, being the youngest among the other competitors, her son had already garnered enough prestige that nobody back home would think about badmouthing him.
"Now, now… Alienor, you're not writing off my daughter, are you?" A lackluster wizard chimed in from next to Fleur — if she recalled the girl's name correctly.
"Yes, minister, Fleur is the best performer till now. Nobody can deny that."
Alice did a double take as the source of the musical tilt reached her ears.
Damn…
She tried to remember the last time she had felt inadequate standing beside a witch. Maybe early Hogwarts days? Lily was exotic and simply irresistible with her green eyes and red hair. But after growing up in her skin and being friends with arguably the best-looking witches of her generation, Alice had all but forgotten the feeling of self-doubt that was prevalent in her teen days. She could have lived without reliving it.
"Mrs. Delacour. It's such a pleasure seeing you."
Alice felt vindicated as the older beauty kept her arms by her side, ignoring the almost panting minister who seemed to be on the verge of messing in his pants just by the thought of touching her skin. When the shameless minister kept looking for her hand even after she refused him, Alice stepped in.
Nobody deserves this.
"Hello there, I am Alice Longbottom and this is my son, Nevile Longbottom." Alice stepped forward and put her hand ahead for a shake. "And standing behind us is my godson, Harry Potter."
The blond beauty shook her hand with a raised eyebrow. Her daughter and husband did the same with murmured pleasantries.
"Harry Potter? Isn't he the pleasant boy that you told me about, Appoline?" Alice's head whipped as the wizard, who was presumably Fleur's father, asked his wife. "But where exactly is Mr. Potter?"
What?
Alice whirled around; mouth agape as only an empty floor greeted her eyes.
What the …
Her eyes flitted from person to person, eyes searching for the tall, muscular physique of her godson.
She felt a tug at her hand. Glancing at her son, she followed his pointed finger—to the middle of the dance floor. Her blood boiled as a familiar witch sighed and snuggled into her lover's embrace, swaying in tune with the music.
The forgotten minister reminded them of his presence, coughing and drooling as his eyes seemed to be indeterminate between looking at the veela beside him, or the lady Black in the scandalously short dress.
"Isn't that Bellatrix Black?" He blurted out, almost as if not believing his luck.
"I think she arrived with Archibald Herman." Appoline said.
She wasn't aware Bella was close to the former French champion. And why was she dancing with Harry, anyway?
Alice watched interestedly as Fleur's mother hawkishly glared at her godson dancing with Bella, her lips thinned in a straight line.
"That's the Harry Potter, Gabrielle kept jabbering about. I didn't realize he would be this hot—" Even though Fleur snapped her mouth shut and then turned red, Alice watched distressingly as Nevile balled his fists, a betrayed expression forming on his face.
Curse her for teaching him French.
Even though Nevile seemed upset, it was nothing compared to the way Fleur's mother fumed, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. The gorgeous blond dragged her red-faced daughter from their vicinity, whispering something into Fleur's ear.
The staccato beat of thumping boots came from her side as Nevile stalked in the opposite direction, shoulder stiff. She stared at her son's back, before meeting eyes with the perplexed form of Fleur's father.
What the hell is going on?
-oOo-
Harry smiled, grimaced, then smiled again.
"People are watching us, I think."
Did she even listen to what he just said? Harry doubted it. Harry remembered doing the same steps with her sister. Hmm…that seemed like a lifetime ago. At least he had come along from making a fool in the ballroom.
"Don't worry if your hand slips lower, love. My dress is quite slippery." Aunt Bellatrix wasn't wrong. Calling this thing a dress seemed quite farfetched. Harry had almost had a heart attack after seeing her dress seemingly wrapped around her bosom without support before she saw two thin needle-like straps that were holding the dress up. And the cleavage. Bloody hell! If he hadn't seen Andromeda Tonks naked, who looked very similar to the woman in his arms, he sure would have jizzed his pants.
His hands were wrapped around her hips as she snuggled closer, and Harry could see the wide-eyed stare of some middle-aged witches standing nearby. Don't look at them. Harry avoided looking toward the Longbottoms as well, not sure about their reactions regarding Aunt Bellatrix.
"Isn't your date going to miss you?" Harry asked, looking at her forehead instead of the golden, glittering dress made of some exotic material.
"Archi?" Bellatrix snorted. "He should feel lucky I deigned to come here in his arms. Bastard probably thinks he will get lucky just because I talked with him last year and accepted his invitation."
"If…If you don't like him, then why did you even come?" Harry couldn't think he would ever attend some ball with someone that he disliked.
"So many questions for your aunt Bella…" Harry almost missed a step when her violet eyes took on a predatory look. A look that he had seen too many times during his stay with the Tonks.
Harry sighed in relief as the band ended the song on a long note, eyes wandering around the ballroom in search of Aunt Alice. He stepped back, or at least tried to, but the hands on his shoulder tightened over the fabric of his suit.
"I do have to discuss some things with you." Bellatrix murmured, and he had to crane his neck to listen to her words. "Concerning the apprenticeship that I discussed with your mother."
"Pardon?"
For the first time that night, Harry forgot all about an angry veela, an insatiable godmother, or the sultry goddess in his arms—all of whom seemed hell-bent on making him uncomfortable.
"Didn't Lily say anything to you?"
Harry shook his head. He watched as she shook her head and patted him on the cheeks.
"Oh, dear! I guess you have been busy with Nevile's training, so she must have forgotten about it." Bellatrix bit her lips, checking around and then looking at him through her eyelashes. "There's too many people here. Go left from that door. There's a swing behind the large fountain. I will meet you there." She pointed toward an exit.
"But Aunt Alice said—"
"My dear, don't you think Alice and Nevile would be busy? After all, your godbrother is in the best eight and has to entertain a lot of guests here."
Harry searched for the Longbottom duo again, frowning as he couldn't find them around the Minister, who was creepily staring at Aunt Bellatrix.
"Don't worry. It will not take that much time." Aunt Bella tittered before winking. "Though I will not mind a prolonged affair."
Harry blanched at her innuendo, watching her flounce toward the drinking parlor.
Should he look for his companions or do as Blaise's mom asked? But what if she changed her mind and withdrew her interest in an apprenticeship? Losing the chance to learn from Bellatrix Black—duellers would lose one arm for the chance to be taught by her.
Harry wondered whether his mother would even allow him to apprentice under her; what with their rivalry.
It was too much of a risk to not take the chance and forever rue the missed opportunity to learn the Battle magics that Lady Black could teach him. Mind decided, Harry Potter nodded to himself, taking the route to the swing as described by the beautiful witch.
After all, how long can a discussion regarding apprenticeship last?