It had been several days since his highly productive outing to Diagon Alley, and Harry had made the best use of his time since then. While it was very dull, sorting through and analyzing the Potter and Black accounts took up much of his time, memorizing every last possible detail till his brain turned to mush.
Oddly, his pink-haired companion had rarely left his side since. Nymphadora Tonks - or Dora, as he called her - had taken it upon herself to fill in for the other guards from Dumbledore’s mysterious group. But rather than secretly watching him as she did before, she instead spent the time sitting with him in his bedroom inside the Dursley’s home.
Not that Harry overly minded, as he had little social interaction when he was home at Privet Drive anyways. Dora spent most of her time lazily resting on his bed reading or making idle conversation, seemingly content with the dull arrangement.
But there was an undercurrent to their interactions, a sort of unspoken tension that neither had broken. For his part, Harry didn’t bring up his dealings in Diagon Alley that day, and his auror companion almost seemed to believe the entire thing had been a strange dream.
And so it was a normal day when a foreign owl pecked at his window, prompting Dora to put the book she was reading down in interest while Harry stood to open the window. The owl that pranced in rivaled Hedwig in its beauty, white with longer feathers, yet smaller, having an almost arrogant quality to its attitude. It raised his leg for him to take the attached letter with an air of condescension, almost like delivering mail was beneath it.
Harry untied the letter, finding envelope was cream-colored and heavy, made of a material that he could tell was expensive. His name was engraved with loopy, elegant handwriting, having a distinct feminine quality to it.
He noticed that Tonks seemed to think much the same, as the auror stiffened slightly at the sight of the letter, her expression reminiscent of an animal ready to fend off others vying for her mate. But he ignored whatever reaction she had in favor of opening the envelope and reading its contents.
Harry,
I hope this letter finds you well, or as well as one can be in an English summer. I have been told they are hot and hard to bear, unlike here in France where we have the cool ocean breeze and the refreshing Mediterranean water to enjoy.
I have thought of you often since the final task. More than I expected to, if I am being honest, and I find I prefer honesty in correspondence, as it is more interesting than the alternative. You were remarkable, Harry, not just in the final task but in all the time I was with you before it. And to see what you have had to endure since has made my blood boil, and caused some other feelings to stir within me that I am hard pressed to ignore.
I am coming to England.
I have made enquiries about transferring to Hogwarts as a seventh year, doing so for the practical components of my N.E.W.T. program. I admit that this is highly unusual, but these are unusual times we live in, and it seems worth the cost to be with you.
I know this letter is not subtle, as my Veela blood makes subtlety a wasted effort, so I will say that most of my considerations in coming to Hogwarts include you.
Write back if you are so inclined. I rather hope you are.
- Fleur
P.S. The owl’s name is Lumière and she will wait for a reply if you have one.
He read the letter twice, then set it down unhurriedly while keeping his face carefully neutral. Behind him, Dora was practically vibrating in place on his bed, and he handed the parchment to the woman who was trying not to show her desperation to learn its contents.
The Metamorphmagus practically ripped it from his hands, reading it over as her hair shifted between different colors. Her expression only showed more and more disbelief the longer she read the fine parchment, making him feel amused.
“Fleur Delacour.” Dora said at last, obviously trying to keep her voice level but failing abysmally. “The Beauxbatons Triwizard champion wrote this?”
“Mhmm.” He hummed in confirmation as if it wasn’t a big deal, which only seemed to make her more hysterical.
“The French girl who is part Veela. Who is the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life and I change my looks for a living. Who could walk into any room in Europe and have her choice of anyone in it.” She looked at him wide wide eyes. “She is coming to England… For you.”
“That’s what the letter says.” He said noncommittally, hoping to get her full reaction, and was not disappointed. She looked like she was going through a crisis at the news, mouth silently opening and closing as she searched for the right words.
“I’ve been trying…” Her voice had gone quiet. “To understand what has been happening since that day in Diagon Alley. I think about it - about you - all the time, whether it be at home, at work, or even in my dreams. Ever since that day I’ve come back here and volunteered for more shifts in order to be with you, all while telling myself its my job. Yet it’s clearly starting to go beyond that at this point. And yet when I think of what I’m about to say, I think of you with my aunt, with her daughter, or even with the Greengrass girls. And now I have to think of you with Fleur bloody Delacour.”
“Your point?”
“The point,” She swallowed. “is that I have apparently joined a long and distinctly feminine line for your attention, and I apparently find myself sitting at the back of it. Even if it’s nothing - or just completely mad… Which it probably is. I need to tell you t-that-”
“Stop.” His words came out more striking than he initially intended, his gaze darkened and parseltongue creeping into his accent. Dora stopped and froze immediately, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. She probably thought he would reject her in that moment, but Harry had different intentions.
“You need to know something before this goes any further, being that I’ve changed.” He stressed that point first. “I’m not the person I used to be before the third task, and I don’t think the way I used to think about right and wrong. It’s not that I don’t have lines, I do. But where I’ve drawn them is not where Dumbledore has drawn them, and probably not where you’ve drawn them either.”
The pink-haired auror was still stiff in place. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to fuck Narcissa Malfoy.” His words made her wince, yet he noticed how she bit her lip as well. “I’m going to take her behind her husband’s back and pump her for information about Voldemort when I’m in bed with her. Then I’m going to bid on her daughter’s marriage contract when the time comes, and maybe even take her as my wife. While that’s going on, I’m definitely going to be doing deals with the Greengrasses, and probably take Daphne’s hand while I’m at it.”
He stood, rising above Dora as she looked up at him with wide eyes. “And yes, I’m going to fuck Fleur Delacour too, and see what she can do for me in France in the coming war. I’m going to use every resource available to me to win, meaning I’ll lie, cheat, and steal if it means stopping Voldemort. I’ll manipulate and kill people behind Dumbledore’s back if that’s what it takes, and learn as much powerful magic as I can even if it’s considered dark. Because the person I am now is different than before, someone who’s seen Dumbledore’s failures and the Ministry’s uselessness, and will do things his own way in order to win. That’s what you’ll be getting into if you stay with me.”
At the end of his spiel, Tonks looked down at her shaking hands, then towards the floor below. He could see the turmoil in her mind plain as day, the realization of what she was getting herself into.
“I’m a Hufflepuff.” She said at last, almost like it was a confession. “I believe in loyalty and fairness and… I was an Auror because I believed in the law.
“That’s why I’m telling you this.”
“You’re telling me all this now so I can leave before it’s too late.”
“I’m telling you all this now,” Harry reiterated. “So that if you stay, then you know what you’re getting in to.”
She finally looked up at him. “What would I be… If I stay?”
His hand rose, and she stayed very still, before his palm landed on the top of her head. It stayed there, fingers sinking into her locks in a way that was demeaning and dominating, conveying his authority.
“On your knees.”
She followed his orders, moving off his bed and on to the floor, his hand still on her head. She was positioned directly in front of his bulging crotch, the demeaning nature of her position clear. You’ll be a bitch on your knees for me. “Does this answer your question?”
She swallowed thickly and nodded, and no words were expressed for what was expected of her next. Her hands rose up to undo his trousers, pulling them down to expose his undergarments, which bulged obscenely under his straining manhood, and Nymphadora Tonks soon undid those too to unveil his length.
“Morgana’s fuckin’ tits!” She gasped at his revealed cock as it flopped out.
His shaft jerked upwards before landing hard and heavy on her face with a meaty plap, shadowing it in its immense weight and girth enough to obstruct her vision. As the summer went on and his Peverell ancestry kicked in, Harry grew physically and in magical power, which coincided with his shaft growing and thickening in size by the day.
What he had now was a behemoth of male meat, thick as his bicep around and over a foot - near fourteen inches - in length. Sparse, large, veins kept it filled with blood and powerful magic, with two heavy balls resting underneath that had the ability to fill multiple witches in a session to the absolute brim with his seed. It was the cock of a powerful wizard, a witch-breaker of the highest order.
For Dora, it was the type of tool only heard of in hushed witches tales, the kind of cock wielded by powerful wizards millennia ago who ran through entire covens of Veela and destroyed entire Kingdoms by conquering their women. Some of those very tales were based off Harry’s very ancestors, or even more famous figures such as Merlin, King Arthur, or Rasputin, and she was beginning to realize the situation she had gotten herself in to then.
He grasped the base of his length, lifting it off Dora’s face and giving it a meaty jerk that caused her to squirm. His gaze snapped to her then, making her freeze. “Take off your clothes, I want to see what I’m working with. Then bend over the bed.”
She nodded breathlessly, scrambling to get her clothing off. All the while his cock only got harder, finally seeing those big tits she wielded along with the meaty, perky bum she carried around. Dora seemed to be born with surprisingly good genes, as he could tell this was her body in its natural state - ignoring her pink hair, of course.
Just like he asked, she was soon bent over his bed in the Dursley household, a fleshy and perky ass raised high and ripe for the taking. His hand reached forward to lightly feel her right cheek, letting his cock rest against her bum as its length reached partly up her spine.
“Fuck.” Dora gasped, looking over her shoulder to view the obscene sight. “You’re really going to ruin me.”
SMACK
“GAH!” Her back arched as she gasped, his hand having suddenly given her right cheek a spank.
“You know what this means, what I’ll expect of you?” He asked as he pulled back, lining his cockhead up with her dripping lips before pushing a few inches in. “That after today you’ll be mine. You’ll spy, lie, and remain only loyal to me in the end. Is that clear?”
She bit her lip and felt her tits harden, holding back moans as he spread her insides wide and began claiming her pussy inch by relentless inch.
He leaned over her suddenly, grabbing a fistful of her long pink hair and pulling lightly as she gasped and panted. “I said, is that clear?”
“Y-Yes!” She got out, panting and pushing her bum against him in heat, shaking her hips enticingly. “P-Please just take me! I-I’ll do anything you ask of me!”
Harry grinned, letting her go and moving his hands downward, his left gripping her hip and right massaging her cheek he had spanked earlier. “Good.”
That was when he began to truly fuck her, or rather, to claim her pussy for his own. He pulled back and pushed forward in a rhythm, pulling out several inches over already-claimed territory before barreling back in, doing so over and over. His partner’s panting and gasping breaths along with the dripping juices of her gushing cunt was all that could be heard, as Harry remained quiet.
It was when he finally pushed in all the way that he felt her ass collide with his thighs, and that was when he stopped to let her adjust.
“S-Sweet Morgana…” Dora breathed in wonder, appearing slightly out of it as she looked back at where their bodies joined. “Is this what is feels like to be Lady Potter?”
She was utterly stuffed with cock. Face down, ass up and eyes glassy. Her two cheeks were spread wide by the density of his girth, showing off the obscene sight of her labia lips stretched to their limits around his shaft.
“Lady Potter?” He snorted, giving her ass a light spank that made her jolt. “I think I’ll take you as a mistress rather than an actual wife. Perhaps a handmaiden for your cousin, Kassandra?”
A normal woman would’ve raged in her position, yet instead he felt her core clamp down even harder on his manhood. He caught a glimpse of her blushing face as she bit her lip, seemingly trying to contain her pleasure. Interesting.
After enough time of waiting, he began, pulling back and pushing in just a few inches to let her get used to the feeling. It was slow at first, but his thrusts picked up to became faster and longer as time went on, slamming a foot of cock in and out of her cunt relentlessly as he used her hips for leverage.
It wasn’t gentle, nor was it pretty. The sight was one of a witch getting fucked by her Lord, her juices gushing out of her pounded cunt as Harry made sure she felt every inch. This wasn’t sex between lovers but rather a branding of one’s property, for him to mark Dora as his for the rest of his days.
PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP
“AAAGH! F-FUCK! YOUR COCK IS WRECKING ME! P-PLEASE! HAAAARRRRYYY!”
No longer was she panting and moaning, but screaming and breathing hard and loud as she tried desperately to fill her lungs with enough air. It was the sounds of a woman getting fucked hard, harder than she could probably handle, her pussy internally combusting as it went from one mind-shattering orgasm to the next under the onslaught.
But for Harry, it felt easy. He knew he could do this all day - maybe even for multiple days at a time - and that fact made him feel arrogant for once. Just knowing he could take this auror and reduce her to such a state so easily greatly boosted his confidence, and made him worry less about the powerful Witches he would be claiming in the future.
“Auror Tonks, one of the DMLE’s finest.” He gave a sharp thrust that made spittle erupt from her open mouth. “My fuckin’ bitch.”
“Y-Yours…” She wept, wrecked. “H-How can any witch handle this…”
He gave a particularly hard thrust that made her orgasm harder than ever, her body shaking and eyes partly rolling up in her skull as she temporarily blacked out. Harry stopped then, giving her a minute to come back to sanity as she managed to settle herself.
“Change your appearance.” He suddenly commanded once she had recovered enough, rather than immediately get back to fucking her.
She froze. “W-What?”
“Change your looks.” He nearly growled. “I want to see what your powers can do.”
She seemed to think about what he asked, before finally complying. Her body changed, becoming taller and slimmer, pink hair going to a blonde shade. No longer was it Nymphadora Tonks in front of him, but rather Penelope Clearwater, Ravenclaw Prefect from Harry’s younger Hogwarts years who had dated Ron’s brother.
“Oh, Harry…” Her voice was high-pitched. “You’re so much bigger than Percy!”
“Fuck!” His cock lurched in surprise and he grit his teeth to hold on to his sanity. “Change again.”
She let out a shaky breath, before her body morphed, becoming slightly shorter and hair going to black. She had the same bodily proportions as before, except her face and hair had a unique aristocratic quality this time around.
“T-This is what I really look like.” Dora seemed nervous to openly admit that fact. “Too much like my aunt. My Mother has brown hair, yet my dad’s is black, and I ended up looking like Bellatrix because of it.”
He only nodded, not knowing much about Bellatrix Lestrange other than her name and that she was one of Voldemort’s most devoted followers.
“You’re beautiful.” He saw something in her expression change at his admittance, a sudden fervor developing behind her gaze as she almost seemed to look at him in worship.
But soon her expression was washed away as he began to fuck her once again, her ass clapping against his thighs as Dora buried her face in his sheets, screaming in ecstasy as he felt his balls brewing with seed.
PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP
“I’m gonna fill you all the way up.” He growled deeply, making her shake.
“DO IT!” Dora screamed. “GIVE IT TO ME!”
PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP
He could feel it first brewing through his balls and then pulsing through his cock as he began pumping his load into her core. Dora’s back arched as she screamed to the heavens, virile load after load of thick wizard cum stuffing her to the brim.
SPLURT SPLURT SPLURT
It kept coming, raining out of the tight space between her labia lips and his shaft, expanding her belly with the sheer amount of seed. Her stomach swelled looking pregnant and ready to burst, but Harry kept cumming, even when she lost her strength and fell against the bed, as he laid alongside her and tilted her body sideways, all so he could keep filling her.
When he was finally done, he pulled his cock out with a pop. A gush of seed akin to opening a dam running forth, leaking out of her ruined and gaping cunt and onto the bed below.
For his part, Harry was ready for more, but knew better than to keep going with the thoroughly exhausted witch at his side. Instead he stayed next to her in bed, laying at her side as he pulled the sheets over their naked bodies before drifting off to sleep.
Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18