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Story: Not What I was Expecting
Storylink: https://uk.groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/seelvorfanfiction
Author: Seel'vor
Rating: NC-17 – No One 17 and Under Admitted

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Rihaan’s Note: Okay, so here’s my fucked up idea.

This story is available exclusively at Seel’vor’s Yahoo! Group. Until Now. The way I see it, if Seel’vor doesn’t like it, he can contact me and ask me to take it down. Hell, I don’t care if he knocks on my door and takes a baseball bat to my testies to hack my website. I just want his presence on the internet again.

You might have noticed that he hasn’t been around in a while, and has taken a very extended vacation from the internet. Real talk, I miss him. His stories were great, and I’ve followed his work from the very beginning. He’s one of my inspirations to my writing style, and writing in general.

So he comes back, tells me to take down this private story, and I’ll get confirmation he’s alive. Everyone wins. If this link ever leads to a 404 message, that’s very good news. This plan is absolutely flawless.

Until then, Enjoy this amazing story. Several more to come.

Author’s Note: If people find the dating scenes unbelievable, I do apologize. It’s been almost nine years since I’ve had a first and second date. Although, on the plus side, I mustn’t be too bad at them, since I’m still together with that beautiful woman…

“So why are you still here?” Harry asked Ron.

“Search me,” said Ron.

“Go home then.” said Harry.

“Yeah, maybe I will!” shouted Ron, and he took several steps toward Harry, who did not back away. “Didn’t you hear what they said about my sister? But you don’t give a rat’s fart, do you, it’s only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I’ve-Faced-Worse Potter doesn’t care what happened to her in there! Well, I do, all right? Giant spiders and mental stuff-”

“I was only saying… she was with the others, they were with Hagrid-”

“Yeah, I get it, you don’t care! And what about the rest of my family, ‘the Weasleys don’t need another kid injured,’ did you hear that?”

“Yeah, I-”

“Not bothered what it meant, though?”

“Ron!” said Hermione, forcing her way between them. “I don’t think it means anything new has happened, anything we don’t know about; think, Ron, Bill’s already scared, plenty of people must have seen that George has lost an ear by now, and you’re supposed to be on your deathbed with spattergroit, I’m sure that’s all he meant-”

“Oh, you’re sure, are you? Right then, well, I won’t bother myself about them. It’s all right for you, isn’t it, with your parents safely out of the way-”

“My parents are dead!” Harry bellowed.

“And mine could be going the same way!” yelled Ron.

“Then go!” roared Harry. “Go back to them, pretend you’ve got over your spattergroit and Mummy’ll be able to feed you up and-”

Ron made a sudden movement: Harry reacted, but before either wand was clear of its owner’s pocket, Hermione had raised her own.

Protego!” she cried, and an invisible shield expanded between her and Harry on the one side and Ron on the other; all of them were forced backward a few steps by the strength of the spell, and Harry and Ron glared from either side of the transparent barrier as though they were seeing each other clearly for the first time. Harry felt a corrosive hatred toward Ron: Something had broken between them.

“Leave the Horcrux.” Harry said.

Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you staying, or what?”

“I…” She looked anguished. “Yes… yes, I’m staying. Ron, we said we’d go with Harry, we said we’d help-”

“I get it. You choose him.”

“Ron, no… please… come back, come back!”

She was impeded by her own Shield Charm; by the time she had removed it he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron’s name amongst the trees.

After a few minutes she returned, her sopping hair plastered to her face.

“He’s g-g-gone! Disapparated!”

She threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry.

Harry sighed as he watched Hermione sob in her chair. Just bloody marvellous… Once again, Ron has a hissy fit and pisses off, just to sulk. Bugger… it’s just like fourth year. He stood up, grabbing a blanket from the bed and tenderly wrapping it around Hermione’s shoulders. She didn’t even look up.

What the bloody fuck does she see in Ron, anyway? He’s been belittling her, insulting her and generally just pissing her off since our first month in Hogwarts.

They have absolutely nothing in common! She loves books, reading and learning, and the only things Ron reads are Quidditch magazines and PlayWizard… and it sure as hell ain’t for the articles. He’s a die-hard Quidditch fan, and she wouldn’t touch a broom if her life depended on it.

Don’t see a lasting relationship there… Kinda like me and Ginny, really… Nice girl, but a little too… Molly for me. She’s already picking up some of those character traits, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be some submissive ‘yes-man’. I want an equal…

Harry sighed again and shook his head. Relationships… They didn’t exactly matter when you’re in a cold tent, searching for disembodied soul pieces. As usual, Harry put the tatty pieces of his love-life back into the box marked ‘Do Not Open until Voldemort’s Dead’, and sealed it shut.

Almost three hours later, Hermione had managed to wrestle her feelings back under some semblance of control. She wiped her eyes, looking around the tent. Harry had disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to inventory their supplies and prepare some dinner for them, using whatever scraps were left.

She stood on shaking legs, ambling into the kitchen doorway. She looked inside, watching Harry cook. It was a skill that had sadly escaped her, although, she blamed her mother for that. Emma Granger had actually needed to call out the Fire brigade when boiling an egg, something her husband still brought up at family dinners.

“Are you okay, Hermione?” Harry asked tenderly, when he saw her standing there. “Is there anything I can get you?”

Jerkily, she shook her head. “No… No, I’m okay for the moment… Why, Harry? Why would he just leave?”

It’s in his nature… Harry mused to himself, before he shook his head slightly. “I don’t know, Hermione. But, it’s not the first time he’s done this, remember?”

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. “That was years ago, Harry. He’s changed since then.”

Has he? Harry thought viciously, before allowing the thought to slide back down into his subconscious. It doesn’t matter… He held out a meagre plate of food to Hermione, smiling softly when she took it from him. “I’m sorry it’s not more.”

“That’s okay.” Hermione said, ravenously tearing into the food.

Harry sat down at the table with his own, much-smaller, plate. Of course… Ron managed to decimate the food supplies before he left. No… don’t think that. I wish there was a way we could get some more food, without having to risk going… out… in… Kreacher!

The instant he finished the thought, he was on his feet. “Kreacher!”

Almost instantly, the elf appeared, mumbling to himself, before he straightened up. “Master Harry calls for Kreacher?”

Harry nodded. “I do. Thank you for coming, Kreacher.”

The elf nodded once.

“We’re currently looking for more of the… items, like the locket, Kreacher. We’re having to live rough, so the Dark Lord doesn’t find us. However, we’re beginning to run low on supplies.”

“Harry.” Hermione said warningly.

Harry surged ahead. “I was hoping that you’d be able to go and get us some supplies.”

“Harry.” Hermione said again, louder. “I don’t know if I appr-”

“Not now, Hermione.” Harry interrupted firmly. “We need help, and he can help us.” He turned back to the elf. “If you’re willing.”

“Master working to destroy Dark Lord?” Kreacher asked.

“I am.”

“Then Kreacher will help, because Master carries on Master Regulus’ work.”

“I am.” Harry repeated. “I aim to complete Regulus’ work. And I need your help.”

“Kreacher will help.” The elf affirmed, before clicking his fingers, banishing the pathetic food, and teleporting the shepherd’s pie he’d been working on at Grimmauld Place.

Hermione knew that House-Elf slavery was wrong… but the need to feed was a more compelling argument… for the moment. She smiled at the elf, who nodded wearily, before putting a large potion of the pie onto her plate. She almost moaned in pleasure when a bucket of ice-cold Butterbeers appeared on the table. “Fank ‘ou.” She mumbled round a mouthful of food.

After feeding them, Kreacher began to clean up the tent, recoiling in disgust when he found Ron’s dirty laundry. House elves love work, it was true, but there are some jobs that no-one would enjoy, and Ron’s smelly socks were one of them.

Hermione burped daintily as he ate her last forkful, relishing in the simple pleasure of feeling full again. She sighed as the Butterbeer was drained, leaving her sated and happy… until she saw Kreacher amble past with an armful of Ron’s clothing. Instantly, the despair washed over her again. He’d left her!

Harry could see Hermione’s shoulders slump, and felt another wave of anger at Ron. He pulled himself together. Hermione would need him to be strong. And so, he’d be strong.

Things continued in that vein for a while, moving randomly round the country and re-pitching the tent. Kreacher would return to Grimmauld Place daily, making certain that the house was secure and preparing food for the evening’s meal. Slowly, Hermione managed to get her emotions under control, but Harry could see she was still missing the redhead that she’d set her heart and mind on.

One day, while struggling through the ankle-deep snow that had appeared almost overnight, Harry’d had enough. “Hermione?”

The brunette was trudging through the snow, and stopped when she heard Harry’s voice. “Yeah?”

“Can we take a break?” He gestured to a fallen log. “We can have a sit down. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Sighing, Hermione nodded, waving her wand at the log and clearing away the snow. Another flick of her wand conjured a blanket, which she used to give the pair a dry surface. “What’s up, Harry?”

After sitting, Harry began toying with one of the straps of his backpack. “I want to talk about Ron.” He said slowly, before he rolled his eyes as he saw Hermione slump.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Harry.” Hermione said primly, not looking up.

“Well, I do.” Harry retorted sharply, making her look up. It was rare that he was so assertive. “I need to talk about this, Hermione. Please.”

Nodding slowly, Hermione felt the despair threaten to wash over her. “O-Okay.”

“Why is this bothering you so much?” He asked bluntly, wincing when her head shot up so fast, she almost gave herself whiplash. Thinking quickly, he rephrased the question. “I know that he’s our best friend, but why are you feeling so… so down about it? He abandoned us, Hermione. Not the other way around.”

“It’s just…” She sighed. “I really miss him, Harry. I wish this whole blasted thing was over!” She huffed for a moment. “Why didn’t Dumbledore reveal this information before? Why has everything fallen onto us to sort out?”

Harry sighed; it was a question he wouldn’t mind an answer to, as well. “I don’t know, Hermione.” He said wistfully. “I really wish that it wasn’t us… but I have no choice. He’ll keep coming for me, and I can’t go back until I’ve finished-”

We’ve finished.” Hermione interrupted sharply. “Don’t think I’ll ever abandon you, Harry. You know I won’t.”

“I do.” He said with a wry grin. “But, we need to put Ron out of our minds. We can’t keep focussing on him. Frankly, he’s not important enough.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at Harry’s statement. “Harry! He’s our best friend!”

“Not right now, he’s not.” Harry said bluntly. “A best friend wouldn’t have run off and left us. You are a best friend, not Ron. Not anymore. I don’t trust him. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I won’t let it get to number three.”

“Harry-”

“No, Hermione.” Harry said, holding up a hand. “I know that you have feelings for him… although, I can’t really understand why.”

“Harry!” Hermione looked shocked. “How can you say that?”

“Quite easily. Hermione, for years, he’s been putting you down. He makes fun of your studying, but he uses you for homework. You have practically nothing in common, except for being friends with me.

“I just don’t see how you’re compatible.”

Hermione’s jaw flapped for a moment, before she steeled herself. “I do care for him, Harry. It’s just… just there. No-one’s ever shown an interest before, except Krum… and I think he’s a bit of a pervert. He wanted to have sex after the Yule Ball.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at this confession. “I’ll be having words with Mr. Krum…” He muttered.

“Behave.” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “I refused. I didn’t like him like that. I want someone I can talk to.”

So why do you want Ron? Harry mused silently. “I can understand that.” He said diplomatically.

“He’s not bad-looking.” Hermione said, her cheeks reddening. “He’s tall and quite attractive. Plus, when he works hard, he’s not unintelligent. He just needs the proper motivation.”

Harry sighed to himself. “I’m not questioning your choice of boyfriend, Hermione,” even though I should, “but at the moment, it’s not healthy or productive to focus on Ron. We’re in the middle of a war for our lives, and that should take precedence.”

It took a moment, but Hermione nodded. “Okay. But, you know he’ll come back, right?”

I don’t know any such thing. Harry thought viciously, but he suppressed the urge to vocalise that thought. “Unfortunately, we can’t count on that, Hermione. I know you want him to come back, but it’s not cast in stone. So far, I’m proceeding on the assumption that it’s just you and me.”

That night, after Hermione had cast the protection charms on the tent, and Kreacher had supplied a rather tasty salmon bake for dinner, Hermione retired to her bunk, citing being tired. Harry knew, however, that she was going to go and think about Ron.

Instead of following that train of thought, Harry dug around in his backpack, until he found a tatty piece of parchment. He pulled out his wand, tapping it to the parchment. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” He intoned, smiling faintly as he saw the automated greeting appear on the map. It began to fill in, the dots quickly multiplying. He searched the map for the moment, spotting Ginny’s signature in her dorm room, three of her dorm-mates with her.

Pressing his wand to the map, he zoomed in on the image, spotting the four of them sitting in a rough circle. In his mind’s eye, he could see the four girls sitting there in dressing gowns and slippers, sharing Butterbeer and talking about boys. He smiled sadly as another wave of nostalgia washed over him. He missed her.

The few weeks he’d spent as her boyfriend had been so shockingly normal… he found that he liked normal. It was nice being ‘Just Harry’… even though Ginny did seem to place the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ almost as highly. He knew, though, that she’d been raised with him being some legendary figure. He knew that it’d take time for her to get to know the real him, but it’d be time well spent.

He knew that there was a lot of speculation about how he’d suddenly become attracted to Ginny, especially from the other girls while at Hogwarts, and rumours of love potions had run rampant. Harry’d quickly put those rumours to bed by going to see Madam Pomfrey, and having a complete physical. She’d tested his blood and pronounced him potion free (and slightly malnourished, but a quick potion had taken care of that). That had stopped most of the rumours.

Sighing, he closed the map, putting the parchment back into his pocket. He looked up as he saw Hermione stood in the doorway to her bedroom. “Missing Ginny?” She asked simply.

“A little.” Harry replied. “It’s strange, you know… I felt so… so normal during that time. I really miss feeling normal.”

“When things are over,” Hermione began after a moment of silence, “you can go back to her.”

“Maybe…” He said non-committal. “No-one knows what the future brings.” And for all I know, I could be dead before the end.

With that happy thought, Harry rolled up the parchment, tucked it back into bed and slumped backwards, letting sleep overcome.

The next few weeks passed in a blur as the pair, ably assisted by Kreacher, moved around, looking for more information. The change, the true change, began when Harry and Hermione made their way to Godric’s Hollow on Christmas Eve.

Together, they entered the graveyard, staring hard at the grave marker of James and Lily Potter.

As they left the graveyard, a woman approached them (even though they were covered by an invisibility cloak and polyjuiced as Muggles), guiding them back to her house. The house of Bathilda Bagshot.

It turned out to be a trap, though, and Nagini was waiting for them. They barely managed to escape with their lives before Voldemort himself turned up. As Hermione forcibly apparated them out, Harry lost consciousness.

Wakefulness was not slow in returning as a wave of nausea washed over him. “Where are we?” Harry groaned as he sat up. Within a second, a head of bushy-hair was sobbing into his chest. Harry let out an ‘oomph!’ as Hermione impacted him with the force of a missile.

“H-Harry…” She sniffed, hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry!”

“Hermione…” Harry groaned, prompting her to look up at him. “I… can’t… breathe!” The instant she let him go, he sucked in a huge lungful of air. “Thank you.” He said slowly. “Now, what the hell happened and where are we?”

“We’re about forty miles north of Cardiff, Harry.” Hermione said after a moment. “When that snake attacked, you were injured… the Horcrux was burning itself into your chest, and Nagini wouldn’t let you go… I grabbed you and apparated away. You’ve been unconscious for almost fifteen hours.”

“Oh…” Harry blinked for a moment. “Are you okay? You weren’t hurt, were you?”

“No.” Hermione sniffled; he was so sweet. “I’m fine.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she managed to release some of the stress. “Are you hungry?”

Harry shook his head. “Feel a bit sick, actually.”

“That’s the result of being bitten.” Hermione said, her tone slipping into ‘insufferable know-it-all’ automatically. “You lost some blood, and there’s probably a minor infection. I’ve already given you an anti-viral potion that Kreacher brought. You should be okay in the morning.”

Wincing, Harry hauled himself off the bunk. “Okay… have you been watching over me all this time?”

“Of course!” Hermione sounded vaguely offended by the question.

“Then you should rest, Hermione.” He said, gesturing to her bunk. “I’m awake now, so I’ll take a shift on guard. You could do with a kip.” He held out his hand. “Where’s my wand?”

Instantly, Hermione blushed and looked down. “Harry…”

“Where’s my wand, Hermione?” He asked, his eyes narrowing. “Hermione?”

With a trembling hand, Hermione reached into her pocket, pulling out Harry’s wand… or what was left of it, anyway. The wand had been snapped clean through, the only thing holding the two pieces together a small tuft of red, which he knew to be the phoenix feather inside. For a silly moment, he was tempted to ask Hermione to repair the wand… but then he remembered what had happened to Ron’s wand in second year. That hadn’t been repairable, either.

“C-Can I borrow yours?” He asked, his voice trembling slightly at the loss of such a faithful tool.

Wordlessly, Hermione handed over her vinewood and dragon heartstring wand. Harry didn’t feel the usual rush of power that he got whenever he picked up his own wand, but it didn’t matter. He’d be able to used it enough to protect them. She sniffed and retreated to her bunk, rolling over and keeping her back to him, sobbing silently.

Harry looked at the wand for a moment, before picking up the Marauders’ Map, and heading to the doorway of the tent. Hermione had pitched the tent in a small clearing, a fallen log acting as a bench next to the small fire. He still held the remains of his wand, which he stared at, before tossing it into the fire. It burned merrily, providing a rich, deep smell. I should be mad at her… but I can’t blame her. She saved my life from Voldemort and Nagini… the loss of my wand, even losing the brother-wand effect, is negligible. We’re still alive. That’s all that matters. He could feel some seething indignation, but he decided to save it for who it truly belonged to; Voldemort.

With a sigh, he activated the map, his eyes instinctively going to the Gryffindor dormitories. He could see Ginny, alone in the bunkroom. He waited for a moment, before an epiphany washed over him. The normal pang of nostalgia wasn’t there. The sense of normalcy, peace and pleasure was gone. Huh… I guess another near-death experience has me feeling even more jaded than normal. He brushed the feelings away. It didn’t matter for the moment. He searched around for a moment, finding a heavy book near the entryway to the tent.

The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.” He read aloud. “Hmm… don’t have anything else to do at the moment…” He opened the book, and began to read.

Hermione woke up several hours later, feeling indecently chipper after a short nap. She got out of her bed, wincing as she spotted her reflection in the mirror. Dear lord… that’s bloody frightening. She quickly waved her wand, casting Turgio and straightening charms on her hair. It cleaned it and managed to get it into something that wouldn’t scare small children away, before she went outside to find Harry.

To her shock, she found him reading a book, her wand in hand. The instant she exited the tent, her wand was being pointed at her, the end lit up with the distinctive red light of a stunning charm. “Sorry…” Harry said sheepishly, lowering the wand.

Hermione nodded, before making her way over to him and sitting down. “What’cha reading?”

“That book you got from Bagshot’s.” He replied. “‘The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore’. It’s… interesting.”

“Harry,” Hermione began patiently, “it was written by Rita Skeeter. I’d take it with about four metric tons of salt.”

Harry slowly shook his head. “That’s the odd thing, Hermione… I believe it. It’d explain many things.”

“Really?” Hermione asked dubiously. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“No, look.” He began cherry-picking paragraphs to her, letting her draw her own conclusions.

“Harry… you’re suggesting that Dumbledore was a manipulative old man, who used to be a pureblood fanatic?”

“Pretty much.” Harry confirmed. “Oh, he wasn’t completely pureblood, but he was certainly a bigot against Muggles, and possibly against Muggleborns, too. The stuff about his sister, I don’t have a clue about, and I don’t know who we can ask. But, you have to admit… if he ended up being involved in the death of his sister, that could have changed him into what he became.”

Hermione shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Well… no, not really. Still, it makes you wonder about some things.”

“Like why he never bothered to train you earlier? Why he never told anyone else about the Horcruxes, and why the Order of the Phoenix was such a reactionary force.”

“Yeah…” They lapsed into silence for a few moments, before Hermione spotted the Marauders’ Map. “Looking for Ginny again?”

“Not really.” Harry replied apathetically. “I was just watching the map. It’s kinda comforting knowing that some people are still carrying on the fight.”

“How so?”

“I keep seeing people disappear from the map after they’re on the seventh floor corridor. I’d guess that some of them are using the Room of Requirement. Neville always goes in first. I think he’s running the DA again.”

Hermione smiled. “He’s full of surprises, that lad. I always liked him.”

“So much so, you petrified him.” Harry replied, grinning at her.

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

Hermione huffed for a moment. “So… why aren’t you looking for Ginny?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno… just doesn’t seem important tonight. I guess getting nearly killed again knocked me for six.”

She smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Harry. Soon as this is all over, you’ll be back with her. You’ll be able to play Quidditch, snog and prank people in the common room.”

Slowly, Harry shook his head. “That’s just it… I don’t think I want to.”

“What?” Hermione’s voice was filled with shock.

“Don’t get me wrong, Hermione, it was nice while it lasted… but I don’t think a relationship with Ginny would be any good for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s her mother’s daughter, Hermione.” Harry said slowly. “Ginny’s a very… dominant personality, and if I was a submissive person, I’m sure I’d be attracted to her. But I’m not. I could never be in a dominant/submissive relationship. It works for Molly and Arthur, but not me. I want someone who’s an equal. Someone who’s willing to stand up to me when I’m wrong, but will also back down when they’re wrong.”

Hermione nodded sadly. “Yes… I see what you mean. Ginny’s got a fiery temper, all right.”

“Don’t get me wrong; she’s certainly pretty, but she’s not for me. To be honest, I always thought she’d get with Neville. Both of them were practically floating when they were at the Yule Ball. Neville would be good for her. I think he’d be able to balance her out.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Either way, I don’t think me and Ginny would work. Not long term.” Just like you and Ron.

“Yes… I suppose so.” Hermione admitted. “But she cares for you, Harry. You know that.”

“I know.” He replied. “And I care for her… but I don’t love her. We’re just not compatible.”

Hermione stared at him for a moment. “You know, she went to the Hospital Wing, the same day you did.”

“Did she?” Harry asked, his eyebrow creeping up. “Why?”

“She wanted to prove to certain students-”

“Her year-mates and that annoying fourth year Hufflepuff.” Harry interrupted.

“Yes.” Hermione glared at him for a moment before resuming her story. “Certain students were commenting that she had to have bespelled you. She went to see Pomfrey, who confirmed that not only was she potion-free, but was actually able to produce a full list of all magical substances she’d touched for almost a month.”

“How’d she manage that?” Harry asked, in awe of the eternally-annoying hospital matron.

“Some kind of magical forensics, I imagine.” Hermione replied. “But, she was able to prove that Ginny didn’t use a potion.”

“And we proved that I wasn’t under one, either.” Harry shrugged again. “I dunno… I guess Ginny’s just not the one for me.”

Hermione nodded and lapsed into silence. After a moment, she reached down, grabbing a stick from the ground and began poking the fire. As Harry looked at her, he smiled to himself. She’s cute when she’s thinking. His eyes opened widely. Since when have I considered Hermione ‘cute’? Well, apart from the Yule Ball, but everyone thought she was stunning that night. And the time she came back from the hospital wing after the Department of Mysteries… and when I saw her at the Burrow that summer.

Harry leaned back slightly, his eyes glazing over as he considered things. It’s strange… I used to think Hermione was cute, but then I noticed Ginny… and now I’m not. After a moment, he shrugged. I guess that’s the result of only having Hermione around. Since she’s the only female, she’s the only source of my attentions. Still… she is pretty.

Almost a month passed as the pair apparated around the country, setting up their tent and searching for the ever-elusive Horcruxes. Harry’s feelings hadn’t changed since that fateful evening. He was still nursing an attraction to Hermione, but he put it down to the lack of other women around.

It was early morning that things began to change. After packing up the tent, the pair disapparated away as normal. However, when they got to their new location, the quickly realised that something rather important had been left behind; Hermione’s wand. Without that, the pair was effectively defenceless.

Quickly, the returned to their previous site and began searching. “Shite, shite, shite…” Hermione chanted as she looked around. “Where the hell is it?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend’s abnormal language. “Hermione, what would your mother say if she could hear you now?”

“Unless we find my wand, we’ll never bloody know.” Hermione groused. “Besides, I don’t know that much about ‘Monica’, do I? She could swear like a sailor.”

He couldn’t help but grin at that. When Hermione looked up at him, a cross frown on her face, he blushed slightly. “Sorry… just picturing the scene when you go and get them, and she’s there swearing like a trooper.” He smiled sadly. “Just tickled me, is all.”

Hermione’s frown faded. “I know… Still, we’ll need to find the wand, or we’ll be in real trouble.”

It took over an hour, but finally, they found the vinewood under a tree, a bowtruckle holding onto it tightly. After convincing the tree creature to give it up, (which was generally threats involving a chainsaw, petrol and matches) they disappeared again.

It was Harry who noticed it first. When both were inside the tent, Hermione tended to leave her wand right by the doorway. While eating dinner, Hermione had moved her chair round to his side of the table. As the days passed, the chair gradually got closer and closer, so that he couldn’t eat his meals without Hermione’s arm rubbing up against his.

When the pair went to sleep, Harry would begin with nightmares (which, thanks to his rudimentary studies of Occlumency, he could recall with perfect clarity), but they would taper off soon after the begun. Also, one morning when waking up, he’d caught a whiff of vanilla on his pillow. He knew he didn’t wear vanilla, but Hermione did…

Little things were beginning to add up, and Harry was coming to a realisation: he was seriously beginning to fall for Hermione Granger. Worst of all, the feeling was not a new one. Ever since Christmas, he’d been remembering half-formed memories, thinking inappropriate thoughts about Hermione, including one memorable Sunday in fifth year, where he’d masturbated no less than nineteen times in that day. It was one exhausted, but seriously happy wizard who’d had to use three air-freshening charms in the dormitory that day.

He sighed to himself. Hermione was into Ron (for some inexplicable reason), and he was just taunting himself with these fantasies. She’d made that more than clear to him. Or was she? Ever since the ‘Bowtruckle Incident’, Hermione had shown a great deal of affection for him.

Or was she? Maybe she was just thinking along the same lines as he had been; he was the only male around. It was only natural for her to fixate on the one guy she was with. That was probably it… he didn’t dare hope for more… even though he desperately wanted it.

He straightened up as Hermione re-entered the tent, tossing her wand onto the small table by the doorway as she came inside. “Hey, Harry.”

“Hermione.” He replied, nodding at her.

She came over, walking past him and running her fingers along the back of his neck as she passed, making him shiver.

God damn it, woman, are you trying to give me a hard-on? He groused as he adjusted his position slightly on the chair. “Hermione?”

“Hmm?” Hermione was peering into the cupboards, looking for something to snack on.

“What are we doing?”

She glanced over. “Looking for Horcruxes.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He said, shaking his head slowly. “When you walked past then, you stroked my neck.”

“Did I?” She asked, looking back. “Hmm… yeah, I did. Is that a problem?”

“No, not… exactly.” Harry said diplomatically. “It’s just… I find that rather… nice.”

Hermione blinked. “Okay…”

“‘Nice’ as in ‘arousing’.” Harry supplied with a blush. “And it’s not just that. Recently, we’ve been… closer than ever.”

“I…” Hermione closed the cupboard door, before turning and leaning against the work surface. “I don’t know why, Harry… ever since Ron left, I’ve been feeling more… more towards you.”

Harry knew that he was falling hard for her, but he knew she wanted Ron. “Well, I’m the only guy around, Hermione. I suppose it’s only natural-”

“Please.” She scoffed. “I’m not quite that air-headed, Harry. Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve noticed you. ‘More fanciable than ever’, remember?”

“Do you?” He cleared his throat nervously. “Fancy me, I mean.”

“Well… I… er…”

“It’s not exactly advanced calculus, Hermione.” Harry said quickly. “Just… you know…”

“Well… yes.” Hermione admitted with her own blush. “It’s just… well, you are very good looking, Harry. I used to think about it, when I was younger, and I had quite the crush on you. It just… it just went away. I figured that I’d outgrown it.”

“Oh…” Harry looked oddly disappointed. “You got over it?”

She came over and pulled her chair close, sitting next to him. “It’s not really the best time to talk about this, is it?” She asked, reaching out and stroking his hand. “I mean, we’re in the middle of a war… I know it sounds horrible, but it’s the sort of thing that should wait until after it’s all over. We don’t know what’s coming, Harry…”

He nodded reluctantly. “I know…” He smiled at her. “I think that’ll be a fun conversation, though.” Taking a chance, he leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers. She gasped slightly, flicking her tongue out. For a moment, they duelled against each other, before Harry pulled back. “You’re also very fanciable.” He said, his bumbling attempt at a compliment.

“Thank you!” She beamed at him, before leaning closer and kissing him again, just for a moment. “We’ll have to see what happens afterwards, though. As soon as Vol… You-Know-Who’s dead, we’ll talk, Harry.”

“It’s a date.” He said with a grin.

It’s a date… Harry mused. Yeah, fucking great date! He hauled himself off his bunk, passing onto the stairs before coming out in the Gryffindor common room. Angrily, he thought back to the ‘event’ that had taken place in the Head’s office less than two hours ago.

“Hermione?” Harry looked up at his best friend, smiling warmly at her. “You got a minute?”

Hermione nodded, extending her arm to Harry, who took it in true gentlemanly fashion, before leading her down the stairs to the corridor. “What’s up, Harry?”

“Do you… do you remember what happened in the tent?”

Slowly, Hermione frowned. “A bit more specific, Harry.”

“We talked.” Harry said slowly. “Remember? About what would happen after Voldemort finally kicked it.”

“Ah… yes. The ‘more fanciable than ever’ comments.” Hermione said softly. “I remember, Harry… but…”

Harry’s face fell. “Ron.”

“Yes.” Hermione squeaked.

“You kissed him.” He pointed out unnecessarily. “Just before…” he trailed off, not wanting to say ‘I died’. “So… you’re gonna give it a go, yeah?”

She nodded. “I know we said we’d talk, Harry, but… well… he came back.”

After abandoning us for three months and eating good food at his brother’s while we nearly starved to death, before Kreacher came to us. “Yeah, he did.” Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair and allowing the joined arms with Hermione to fall away. “He came back, Hermione. I just… I thought…”

“Like I said at the time, Harry, we didn’t know what was coming, and Ron-”

“No.” Harry interrupted gently. “It’s okay, Hermione. You can’t help who you fall for, eh?” He discretely took a step back from her.

“Wait, Harry, please, let’s talk about this.” She took a step forward, her face falling slightly as Harry took another discrete step back.

“It’s okay, Hermione. You know I want you to be happy. I love you too much to deny you what you want.”

“Harry…” Hermione sighed. “You know Ginny’s waiting for you, Harry. She’s a good girl. She fought well in the battle. You could give her a chance-”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I told you that it wouldn’t work between me and Ginny. She’s too much like her mother, and far too domineering for my tastes. She’d want to stamp her authority all over me.” He grimaced. “Not to mention all the fame and parties that’d come my way. No… I couldn’t be with Ginny.”

“You don’t know that, Harry. Maybe-”

“For my entire life, Hermione, I’ve been a slave to prophecy and other people’s wishes. Not anymore. I want to just be me… Just Harry.” I wanted it to be with you, too. “But… that won’t, can’t happen. The ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ is too important to the Wizarding world. I’ll be hounded. I have to leave.”

“No!” Hermione exclaimed instantly. “Don’t leave, Harry. You don’t have to!”

“I can’t stay here, Hermione.” He shook his head, and took another step back. “You won’t be alone. You have Ron, remember? He’s the one you’ve picked.” And to the victor, go the spoils… hah! Utter bullshit! “I guess I’ll see you around, Hermione Jane Granger.” Harry strode round the corner, quickly pulling his invisibility cloak from his pocket and throwing it around himself. A moment later, Hermione came bolting round the corner, looking for him.

“Harry…” She said sadly, before shaking her head, turning and walking back to the gargoyle.

“You okay, Herms?” Ron’s voice boomed loudly in the corridor.

“I’m fine, Ron. Just… just wondering what happens now.”

You and me both. Harry thought as he watched her walk away, arm-in-arm with Ron. There really isn’t anything left for me here anymore. Time to see what the rest of the world has to offer.

Harry strode out of the common room, escape the only thought on his mind. He’d retreated to the Gryffindor dormitory to think about his options, but he didn’t want to be caught. He headed down the stairs, glancing into the Great Hall as he passed.

He could see the Weasley family crowded round one of the covered sheets, each of them looking understandably sad. Hermione stood with them, Ron’s arm wrapped possessively round her shoulders.

There’s nothing left for me here. Tonks, Moony… Padfoot, Mum, Dad… it’s all dust. He carried on walking, passing through the doors. The instant he was out of the castle, he apparated, heading straight to Diagon Alley.

Making arrangements to empty his vaults (since the goblins, hateful little buggers that they were, couldn’t be trusted) Harry went to the travel agent, looking to purchase an international Portkey. In the office, he asked a simple question: “Where’s the furthest I could go before I start coming back?” The sales assistant handed him a Portkey to Auckland, New Zealand with a smile.

I wonder what life’s like as a Kiwi? Time to find out, Potter… He squeezed the Portkey and vanished.

Two hours and innumerable spins later, Harry crashed into a receiving pad, hurling his guts up. I hate Portkeys! He thought angrily, waving his wand to clear up the mess. He’d briefly considered returning the wand to Dumbledore’s tomb, but he still felt a wave of anger at the games the old man had played with his life, and keeping the wand felt right, if a little spiteful.

“Good day, sir.” A polite official said, helping Harry to his feet.

Can tell I’m not in Britain anymore… they’re polite. Harry thought as he straightened up. “Good… is it morning or afternoon?”

“It’s 1:14pm, sir.” The assistant replied. “You’re just in time for lunch. And considering your reaction as you arrived, I believe it would do you good.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, it probably would.”

“Do you mind if I ask the purpose of your visit to New Zealand?”

“Relocation.” Harry replied. “I’m planning to move here. Looking to get myself a house and settle down.”

“Indeed.” The assistant nodded before gesturing for Harry to follow him. “And would you be looking for a house in a magical neighbourhood, or a non-magical neighbourhood?”

“Non-magical.” Harry replied. “I’ve had a bellyful of Wizards for the moment.”

“Ah, yes. The Dark Lord who’s attacking your country.”

“He’s dead now.” Harry replied wearily. “Died earlier today, as a matter of fact. I thought it’d be a marvellous time to leave.”

“He’s gone?” The assistant asked. “That’s excellent news!”

“Bad for business?” Harry asked, taking the leaflet the assistant offered him. It contained an advertisement for an estate agent a few blocks away.

“On the contrary, he’s been very good for business, but he’s also been killing people. I think I speak on the behalf of the whole of New Zealand when I say I’m glad he’s been stopped.”

“Well… it’s all over now.” He held up the leaflet. “This the best estate agent?”

“It is, sir. They have the best selection of properties. I should warn you, however, that they only deal in non-magical currency.”

“I brought my entire estate with me.” Harry said, holding up a large bottomless bag. “Is there a bank around here?”

“The New Zealand Ministry provides banking facilities in this country, sir. We don’t trust anyone else to do it.”

After my ‘experience’ with the goblins, I don’t either. “Is the government trustworthy?”

The assistant’s eyes narrowed. “The Ministry prides itself on it’s honesty and fairness, sir.” The word ‘sir’ was spat with barely-disguised disdain.

Harry held up his hands. “I will remind you I’m British, sir. They don’t exactly have a good track record when it comes to honesty.”

“Forgiven.” The man said with a sigh. “My apologies, sir. I’m aware of how… buyable your government is.”

Was.” Harry said. “There’s practically nothing of it left anymore… which, I have to say, I’m not bothered about.” He shrugged. “Still, I’m here now. So, where do I deposit my money?”

Harry stepped out of the Portkey terminal, entering the bar. He passed through the ‘Wonky Table Leg’, the New Zealand equivalent of the Leaky Cauldron, entering the Muggle world. He stopped as he took in the site of Auckland’s skyline. Yeah, London was impressive, but this… it was simply breathtaking. He could smell the salt air and almost feel the tension wash away. This… this was home. He could feel it.

He began ambling north, looking for the estate agent he’d been told about. He brushed past a woman who was speaking rapidly, noting that the woman looked harried, but gorgeous. Hmm… reminds me of Hermione. He thought with a pang. Shaking his head, he watched her bottom sway as she near-shouted into her mobile, before closing it and thrusting it into a pocket.

He smiled to himself as he continued his walk, making a decision. No-one here knows me as ‘Harry Potter: Boy-Who-Lived’… this is a chance for a fresh start. The thought filled him with glee. I can be myself… It was gonna be fun!

Harry stepped inside, glad that there was air conditioning inside the office. Being British, Harry’d never needed to worry about ridiculously warm temperatures. The cool air felt wonderful on his sweaty skin… He strode up to the only person in the front office, smiling as he held out his hand. “Good morning.” He said brightly.

The man looked up, sneering as he saw Harry’s casual clothes. “Morning.” The man grunted, before going back to his paperwork.

Slowly, Harry’s smile slid off his face. “I’m looking for the estate agent.”

“You’ve found one.” The man grunted. “Name’s Jennings. Mr. Jennings.”

“I see.” Harry said politely. “Well, I’m looking for some assistance.”

Mr. Jennings looked up with a sneer. “You need more help than we can provide, boy. Why don’t you try the classifieds? Might find something more to your budget in there.”

Instantly annoyed, Harry shook his head. “I see…” He glanced up, hearing the sounds of another person in the back office. Not bothering with being polite (why should he be the only polite one in the office?) Harry strode round the rude man, heading into the back office.

Jennings leapt to his feet, intending on stopping Harry from intruding.

As he passed into the back office, Harry saw a woman speaking on the phone. When she saw Harry enter, she quickly ended her call, looking up. “May I help you?” She asked politely.

“I hope so.” Harry said, moving slightly so the rude bastard’s hand missed his arm. “I’m looking to buy a property, and this little squirt told me to check the classifieds.”

“Bob…” The woman said, shaking her head slightly. “I’m Diana Mayers.”

“Harry Potter.” Harry reached into a pocket, pulling out a piece of paper (helpfully supplied by the assistant in the Portkey station), which he dutifully passed over to Diana, who’s eyes shot up. “That’s my budget. Can you help me find a property?”

Diana could feel her muscles clench as she read the number at the bottom of the page. The young man in front of her was seriously loaded. She knew football stars who were less wealthy. “I’m sure I can.”

Jennings stepped round the desk, glancing at the piece of paper. When he saw the number, his whole demeanour changed. “Yes, we’ll be able to help you.” He smarmed.

“Not you.” Harry shot back, not even looking at the cretin. “You made a judgement call on me without knowing a bloody thing. Sod off. I’d like Ms. Mayers to help me.”

“Out, Bob.” Diana commanded sharply. The man’s eyes narrowed in annoyance as he was dismissed so casually… he’d just lost a sale and a bucket-load of commission.

Once the irritant was gone, Diana looked at Harry. “So, Mr… Potter, I believe?” At his nod, she continued. “What kind of property are you looking for? And are you looking for a lease, time-share, rental or a home?”

“A home, Ms. Mayers.” Harry replied politely. “I’ve just moved to New Zealand, and I’m looking to settle down.”

Mayers smiled. A full house sale meant even more commission. “Excellent.” She smiled warmly at him. “What sort of property are you looking for?”

“Well, I’ve recently gained my money, since it was held in trust for me. I’ve grown up with nothing, so I want a bit of luxury.” He held up a hand. “I’m not into avarice, and I’d like to think I’m not pretentious, so I don’t want a mansion. I want a nice house.” He paused for a moment. “And a pool. I’d like a garage and some grounds.”

Mayers was taking notes. “I see… what sort of area would you like for the grounds?”

Harry thought for a moment. “Well, I’d like something like a field. I’m not looking to raise animals or anything, but I may want a dog at some point. Just something… nice.”

“Indeed.” Mayers stood up, reaching into a filing cabinet behind her. “I assume that you don’t want overboard, but something of quality?”

“A fine assumption, ma’am.” Harry replied.

Mayers handed over four file folders. “These are some of our more… sedate properties. For yourself, I’m not entirely certain about the first one.”

Harry opened the folder, glanced at the photos for a moment, then closed it. “No, thank you. I don’t want something out in the middle of nowhere…” He opened the folder again. “Although the views are fantastic…”

Mayers sighed; Brits always said that. “The other three folders are all city limits properties. They have grounds and a decent house. Two of them have pools, while the third has the planning permission already obtained.”

Opening another folder, Harry nodded. “Bit pretentious…” He flicked to the next. “Ugly house…” The fourth folder was opened, making Harry freeze. “Whoa…”

Glancing down, Mayers smiled at the property he’d picked. “Ah… good choice. We can arrange a viewing for you, if you’d like?”

Harry nodded vigorously. “I’m free anytime.”

Diana checked her watch. “Well… we could go and take a look at it now, if you’d like. Then we can stop off for some lunch, discuss what options we have available.”

Harry shrugged and nodded, before standing up. “Sounds good.”

As the car pulled up, Harry was rendered nearly breathless by the view. The house was large, but not a palace by any stretch of the imagination. There was a two-car garage at the front, a white stone driveway leading up. The property was located at the city limits, leaving him close to the city, but with some peace and quiet, not to mention breathtaking scenery.

He got out, not noticing the slightly smug smile on the agent’s face. She knew she’d just made a sale.

Harry ambled around the property, spotting features that appealed to him; old-world style decking at the back, a large pool with crystal clear water inside, and an expanse of almost perfectly green grass.

The inside of the house was nearly as impressive. There were four large rooms in the downstairs; a massive kitchen, a dining room that would have easily fit twenty people, a living room that cried out for a home cinema system, and a huge room, filled with bookshelves, wall to ceiling. Hermione would love this… He thought wistfully.

Upstairs revealed a master bedrom with en-suite, a bathroom with another pool inside, along with hot-tub, and two modest bedrooms.

I want this house. Harry went to find Diana, spotting her leaning against the car.

“Well?”

“How much?”

Diana took a deep breath. She’d heard from other agents that Brits were so tight with their money, they squeaked when they walked. And, curiously, the richer they were, the more miserly. “$580,000.” She said slowly.

Harry didn’t even blink. “Cashiers’ cheque?”

Resisting the urge to pump her fist in the air, Diana nodded. “It’ll take three days for the funds to clear.”

“Cool.” Harry said apathetically. “I can be in by Tuesday.”

After being led back to the office, and handing over a cheque that used almost three percent of his available money, Harry was left with not a lot to do. He checked into a hotel, passing over a sizable tip to ensure he got a nice suite. He was tempted to take the penthouse, but he knew he wasn’t that rich-blooded. He just wanted comfort.

Once inside the room, he closed the door and flicked his wand, casting a privacy charm. “Kreacher.”

It took almost a minute for the elf to appear, and he was wheezing slightly when he appeared. “M-Master Harry… calls for Kreacher?”

“I do.” Harry conjured a glass of water, passing it over to the elf, who hesitated for a moment before taking it. After draining the glass dry, Kreacher clicked his fingers, refilling it. “Are you okay?”

“Kreacher is not as young as he once was.” The elf admitted. “But how can Kreacher be helping?”

“Well, as you can tell, we’re a long way from London. Decided to move up to New Zealand. Will you be coming here as well, or staying in London at the manor house?”

Kreacher shrugged. “Kreacher be going where Master commands.”

“That wasn’t what I asked you, Kreacher.” Harry said firmly. “Do you want to stay in London, or move over here?” He wasn’t really annoyed with the elf; he knew that thanks to the way he’d been treated by wizards in the past, he didn’t have the mental or emotional tools to make such a decision.

“Kreacher… would like to wait until Master has a house.”

“Fair enough.”

Five days later, Harry was telephoned on his new mobile by the estate agent, announcing that everything was ready for signing, and to meet him at the house.

Less than an hour later, Harry was the proud owner a #7 Clive Road, just near Mount Eden. As the estate agent drove away, Harry waited until she was at the end of the driveway, before calling out, “Kreacher!”

Almost instantly, the once-evil elf reappeared. “Master has called?”

“I did, Kreacher. Thank you for responding so promptly.”

Kreacher nodded. “How can Kreacher be of service, Master?”

“This is our new property, Kreacher.” Harry said, gesturing to the room around him. “I think we’ll prefer this house to the grim old place in London.”

Kreacher looked around, spotting the small tasks that needed doing almost instantly. “Yes, Master. Kreacher can clean-”

“That’s not the reason I called you.” Harry said softly, interrupting the elf. “I wanted to check that you’d be okay with us living here?”

The question made the old elf blink. “Master?”

“Would you have a problem living on the other side of the world, Kreacher?” He smiled at the elf. “I know I asked you a couple of days ago, but we’ve both got some pretty bad memories of England, don’t we? I figured we could both do with a fresh start on things. Where better than the furthest you can go from London before you start coming back?”

Kreacher still didn’t have the emotional tools to deal with such a question. “Master…”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Harry asked, looking around. “There’s sunshine, greenery and a killer pool. I think we could both be happy here.”

With a helpless shrug, Kreacher nodded. “Yes, Master. Tis a nice house. Needs an elf’s touch.”

Harry chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your work, little friend. How about we get all our gear from London, and we can set things up how we like, eh?”

With a click of tiny green fingers, a mass of furniture appeared in the middle of the floor. Together, man and elf began to move things around the house. With the liberal use of magic, the house was quickly turned into a home.

After moving the furniture to it’s new places, Kreacher made his own small announcement; he’d decided that he’d take the airing cupboard as his room. Harry had soundly nixed that idea, telling the elf sharply that he’d not have anyone sleeping in a cupboard. Kreacher retorted that no elf would ever sleep in a Wizarding bedroom.

Remembering that Hermione would kill him if she discovered that he’d let an elf sleep in a cupboard (and it was inevitable that she’d find out… damn girl was like a bloodhound when it came to House Elf rights), he made a compromise; they’d turn an area in the kitchen into a small room for Kreacher.

After almost a half-hour of arguing with Kreacher (who burst into tears twice and passed out), they’d come to a compromise; Harry would purchase a child-sized playhouse and set it up near the pool. Kreacher could put his elf-sized bed, dresser and other items inside. Warily, the elf agreed, not realising that he’d just been given his own little house. A few focussed notice-me-not charms around the outside would protect Kreacher’s privacy, not to mention the Statute of Secrecy.

After less than two weeks, Harry had made decisions on decorating for his house; the library needed filling. He had many magical books, true, but he’d grown to enjoy reading as a past-time (although, he’d never told Hermione… she’d never let him live it down, and Ron would have just scoffed at him) and wanted more.

He quickly opened his laptop, searching for bookstores in the area, and found two. He quickly copied down the addresses, before leaving the house.

He made his way out of the bookstore, after agreeing to have a large number of books delivered. He glanced out over the skyline, happy that he lived in such a beautiful place. The hurt of rejection was beginning to fade away slowly, replaced by good food, a good city and no pressures. There was nothing stopping him now… except for the head that had just crashed into his.

“Ow…” Harry blinked as he saw stars. He heard a quiet groan from his left… right… somewhere.

“Are you okay?” A voice asked him.

Slowly, Harry shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. A wave of pain washed over him. “I’ll be okay.” He said after a moment. A face moved in front of his. “As soon as the two of you stop spinning, I’ll be fine.” He blinked a couple of times, smiling as his vision began to stabilise, revealing only one person in front of him. Hello…

“Are you okay?” The woman repeated, looking intently into his eyes.

Harry nodded slowly as he inspected the woman. She was clearly older than him, but that face! Sweet Merlin, she’s gorgeous! “I-I’m fine…” He stammered, pulling himself up into a sitting position. The lady held out a hand, helping to pull him to his feet.

He couldn’t take his eyes of the dish in front of him. “Er… are you okay?”

She smiled. “I’m fine… you’re very suave, aren’t you?” The tone was light, mocking, English and most definitely music to Harry’s ears.

“Oh, yeah.” Harry said, grinning back. “I taught James Bond everything he knows.”

She snorted at him. “You must have given it to him.” Taking a chance, she adjusted her grip, shaking his hand. “I’m Victoria.”

“Harry.” Harry was more than a little reluctant to let the goddess’ hand go. “Harry Potter.” As they parted, Harry glanced down, spotting Victoria’s books and papers all over the sidewalk. “Oh, hell…” He bent down, quickly picking up books and stacking them haphazardly.

Victoria was soon down there with him, rearranging the books into a neat pile. When they were finished, they both stood, looking at each other. “Thank you.” She said simply.

“My pleasure.” Harry replied. “I… er…”

“Do you like bowling?” Victoria asked suddenly.

Harry blinked. “I have no idea. I’ve never been.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip for a moment, Victoria came to a choice. “Me and a couple of my friends are going bowling tonight… would you care to join us?”

Is she asking me on a date? If so… hell yes! Harry nodded. “It’d be an honour and a privilege, ma’am.” He drawled, making her smile.

“Excellent.” She beamed at him. “Is 8 good for you?”

“It’s fine.” Harry said, smiling back. “I presume it’s Super-Bowl, yeah?”

She nodded. “It is… I’ll see you then.” Slowly, she turned away, before glancing back, a slight blush on her cheeks, before walking away.

“Bye…” Harry called softly, making her turn again and give a small wave. Whoa… they don’t make them like that back home… well, clearly they do, since she has a Brit accent, and Hermione’s British, but… He let out a low whistle. She’s a babe… better make sure I look my best tonight.

Victoria entered the bowling alley, four of her friends with her. After changing their shoes and tapping their names onto the automated score card, the interrogation began.

“So, Vicks… share.”

With a slight blush, Victoria related her tale of her ‘meeting’.

“He walked into you… and you asked him out?” Mel, the blonde gossipy one asked. “Okay… so, what’s his defect?”

“Didn’t have one that I could see.” Victoria admitted. “And I have to say, I was looking pretty hard.”

“Well…” Mike, Mel’s husband, spoke up. “Maybe he has a hump. A hump and a hairpiece.”

“No.” Victoria scoffed.

“Hello, jailbait goodness.” Andrea, the other woman, said, looking up at the doorway.

All five pairs of eyes were locked on the doorway, where a ravishingly good-looking young man with black hair and criminally green eyes was walking in.

“Oh, to be ten years younger…” Andrea drawled.

“That’s Harry.” Victoria admitted with another blush.

Mel’s head span round. “Jeez, Vic… you shopping in the kiddie section?”

“No.” She smiled shyly. “Nothing ‘kiddie’ about him.”

Harry looked up as the guy on reception pointed to their lane. With a nod, Harry came over to them, prompting the guys to look him up and down, while the girls just looked at the ‘down’. “Good evening.” He said politely.

“Ah, another Brit.” Andrea said, holding out her hand. “Hi! I’m Andrea Spellman, one of Vicky’s friends. This is my husband, Alex, and our friends, Mel and Mike.”

Harry politely shook hands, before smiling at Victoria. “Good evening.” He said, his voice dropping into a slightly husky tone. “You look ravishing.”

Victoria blushed again, smiling shyly at him. “Thank you. You look good.” She watched him hold out his hand, placing hers inside. The blush increased as he gentlemanly kissed the back of it, prompting little sighs from the other two women.

“I guess I’m on time?” Harry asked, slowly letting Victoria’s hand go.

“Spot on.” Mike replied, glaring lightly at Harry’s manners.

“Excellent.” Harry took off his jacket, revealing a green and white bowling shirt, and a pair of biceps that were clearly functional muscle. “Shall I get the drinks in, then?”

“Didn’t know paper rounds paid that much.” Alex mumbled, prompting Victoria to glare harshly at him.

“Well, I do two before school, and one after. You’d be surprised how much you can make off paper rounds.” Harry said lightly, resisting the urge to smirk at the man. “So, what would y’all like?”

After collecting the orders, Harry vanished to the bar.

“Well… he’s cute.” Andrea said softly. “And he’s polite.”

“He’s also a child.” Alex said, then yelped as his wife elbowed him in the ribs. “God, woman!”

Victoria blushed. “I don’t know why… I’m just drawn to him.”

“It’s been a year, Vic.” Mel said softly, rubbing her friend’s arm. “You know the old saying; get back on the horse.”

Alex snorted. “Almost sounds like you’re telling her to ride him.”

Mike suddenly hushed them all, pointing out that Harry was returning with a tray of drinks for them all. Stepping down to the lane, he passed the drinks around, before placing the tray at the back. “I was gonna get myself a glass of milk, but they’ve got milk and cookies for just a buck ninety-five!” He smirked as he took a long pull on his pint of lager.

With a snort of amusement, Mike asked, “So, kid, you any good?”

“Well, I managed to get a 93 on my spelling test. Think I blew the bell curve on the rest of the six year olds.” He rolled his eyes. “If you mean bowling, I don’t know, old man.” Harry retorted. “I’ve never played before.”

Victoria frowned at her friends, annoyed with their comments about Harry’s apparent youth. “Well, I’m sure we could teach you the basics.”

Alex couldn’t help himself as he pulled one of the 6lb balls from the rack at the back. “Here you go… perfect for children.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry took the ball, spinning it on his finger like a basketball. “Thanks, man. Although, you’d probably better use this. You know… the arthritis and all.”

For a moment, the two older men stared at Harry… before bursting out laughing. “I like you, kid.” Alex replied, wiping at his eyes. “You can give and take, and you’re not afraid to make your opinions known.”

“Thanks.” Harry said simply.

Victoria smiled to herself; phase one was complete. Her friends appeared to accept him. Now… all she had to do was get to know him.

During the evening, Harry quickly picked up the art of bowling, laughing at her friends’ jokes (surely an achievement) and generally having a great time. At the end of the tenth frame, the married couples had vanished, leaving Victoria and Harry alone.

“So…” Victoria began, not quite sure where to begin.

Harry glanced down at his watch. 9:20pm. “Would you like to get something to eat?” He asked politely.

“It’s nearly half-nine.” Victoria pointed out, before mentally smacking her head. Idiot!

“I know. But, I was so nervous that I couldn’t eat anything…” It was Harry’s turn to trail off. Great, just great, you retard! Women are supposed to like cool, confident guys!

“You… you were nervous?” Victoria asked shyly. “Why?”

“Well…” Harry cleared his throat nervously. “I was hoping that tonight would be a d-date, and, well… you know… a beautiful woman, a first date…” He looked up at her. “W-Was I wrong? Did you mean to ask me here as just friends?”

Victoria slowly shook her head. “N-No… not as a friend.”

“Oh, thank God!” Harry exclaimed, slumping in relief, making Victoria giggle. She quickly came to a decision.

“Yeah, let’s go grab some food.” She grabbed her handbag, before holding out a hand to him. Shyly, he took it, and the two walked out of the Bowling Alley, hand-in-hand.

They ended up in a Chinese restaurant, nearly empty. After ordering, they got down to some serious talking.

“So, Harry,” Victoria began, “besides knocking people over in the street, what sort of things do you get up to?”

Harry blushed as she reminded him of how they’d met. “Well… About a year ago, I finished at an exclusive boarding school back in Britain. It was an odd time, really; there were a series of terrorist attacks. The guy who was responsible was finally caught. At that time, I realised there wasn’t anything holding me back to England, so I left.”

Victoria was listening intently. “What about your family?”

“All dead.” Harry replied softly. “That terrorist killed them when I was just a baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Victoria said sincerely.

“No, it’s fine.” Harry said. “It was years ago. I’m just glad he’s finally gone. No other families will be broken up by him anymore.”

Victoria smiled at him. “Thank you for sharing that. I know it’s difficult to talk about things with a stranger.”

“But you’re not a stranger.” Harry said brightly. “You’re the person who taught me to bowl! Surely we’re bonding together under such… rigid pressures.”

She giggled again, making Harry pledge, there and then, to provoke that sound as often as possible from her. “Thanks, Harry. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

“Entirely my pleasure, I assure you.” Harry replied gently. “So, would you like to compare life stories?” At her enthusiastic nod, he offered, “Would you like me to go first?” He sighed at her nod. “I was born in a town called ‘Godric’s Hollow’, in Wales. My parents were murdered by that terrorist when I was one. I went to live my maternal aunt and her husband. When I was eleven, I went to a boarding school in Scotland. It was a seven year program, and I finished there last year, completing my… well, I suppose A-Levels would be about right. During my school years… there was a girl… she decided that she’d rather have my best mate, so we parted ways. That was a while ago.” He shrugged. “I’m independently wealthy, so I thought I’d travel for a bit. I came here… then I met you.”

Victoria smiled, before it slowly slid off her face. “There’s something… something I should ask you, Harry.”

“Please, feel free.”

“How o-old are you?”

Harry sighed again. “I’m 18, Victoria. My birthday’s in July, and I’ll be 19 on my next one.”

She nodded slowly. “I s-see.”

“Is my age a problem?”

“It should be.” She whispered. “I’m older than you, Harry… by quite a bit.”

“I didn’t want to ask.” He said.

“I’m thirty-five. Thirty-six on my next birthday.” She admitted.

“And…” Harry trailed off. “Am I too young for you?”

“According to conventional morality, yes?”

“Convention.” Harry scoffed. “That wasn’t what I asked you.”

“Why don’t I share my story, and go from there?” She suggested. “About a year ago, myself and my husband… well, ex-husband, more accurately, moved here from Britain. Like you, we heard about those terrorist attacks and decided to seek our fortunes over here instead. But… we’d been having problems for years. We barely spoke, because neither of us had anything to say to the other. When I came home one evening and found him with a fourteen-year old blonde in our bed…”

Harry winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Victoria waved his comment away. “He was the cheating paedophilic arsehole, not you. You’re not a cheating arsehole, are you?”

“It’s never come up.” Harry replied. “Never been in a relationship before.”

“Oh… all-boys school?”

Harry sniggered. “No… but, like I said, I’m independently wealthy… never quite know if you’re being asked out for you or your money.”

“I know the feeling.” Victoria sighed. “I’m a writer, and I’m not too badly off from that.”

“Would I know any of your books?”

“If you like romance fiction, possibly.” She grinned at his blush. “My full name’s Victoria Anne Shaw. My pen-name’s V. A. Shaw.”

“I’ve read three.” Harry said softly, blushing slightly. “They were on sale in W. H. Smith at the airport.” His blush increased. “I’ve always liked romance novels.”

She smiled at him. “What did you think?”

“They were brilliant!” He said instantly. “Your characters are well-written, your plots plausible and the conclusions made me feel all good inside.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, before turning serious. “Well, we’ve been separated for a year, and my divorce finalised about six months ago. Since then… well, I’ve had the same sorts of problems as yourself.”

“So… does my age present a problem to you?” Harry asked again. “Please forgive me if I’m… not good at this. Like I said, I didn’t really date back in school.”

“Well, if you don’t mind dating someone old enough to be your mother…” She muttered.

“I don’t look at ages.” Harry said, making her look up at him. “To be honest… when we collided this morning, I saw a beautiful woman… with a hard head!” He finished with a grin.

“Thank you.” Victoria said daintily.

The meal arrived, and the two settled into less serious topics of conversation. After drinking the end of their wine, they stood.

Outside, Harry escorted her to a taxi stand. She stared at him for a moment. “I had a wonderful time.” She said shyly.

“So did I.” Harry replied. “Would you be interested in going out tomorrow?”

She grinned. “Very much so. What did you have in mind?”

Harry blinked. I don’t have a clue! Just wanna get to know you… “How about a movie?”

At her vigorous nod, he smiled. “Excellent. Where would you like to meet?”

Victoria reached into her handbag, pulling out a small pad and a pen. She scribbled for a moment, before tearing off the page and handing it to him. He looked down, spotting a telephone number. “Call me.” She said.

“I will.” He promised. He reached out and took her hand, gallantly kissing the back of it. “‘Til tomorrow, ma’am.”

Victoria grinned again, before stepping back, turning and opening the cab door. “Sweet dreams, Harry.”

“And to you.”

The door closed, before the cab pulled away. Harry watched until the cab turned a corner. “Damn…” He muttered to himself as he began walking. “Need a cold shower tonight…”

Back inside his house, he went up to the bathroom, running himself the shower. He frowned to himself as he realised that he hadn’t thought about Hermione all night, instead, he was focussing his attention on Victoria. He took it to mean that he was beginning to move on from his favourite bushy-haired goddess.

It’s ironic, though… he thought to himself as he stepped in the shower, that I leave a bookworm behind, and meet up with an author. He chuckled as the cold water washed over him, making his yelp.

Harry woke the following morning, immediately turning to his bedside table. There, in pride of place, what the piece of paper he’d been given last night. He grinned as he remembered the great time he’d had with the sophisticated older woman. Damn… she’s definitely a hottie… He glanced at the alarm clock. 9:23… too early to call her. Wait… am I supposed to ‘play it cool’? Not ring her back until she’s dead eager? What was it Seamus called it? Ah, yes; ‘treat ’em mean to keep ’em keen’. He pulled himself out of bed. No… I’m not that pedantic. Besides, I really wanna see her again.

Stepping into the bathroom, he performed his morning ablutions, before turning on the shower. A double, I think… one cold to purge the hormones, then I can get clean.

After his double shower, Harry stepped into the kitchen, neatly falling over Kreacher. Pulling himself and his elf to their feet, he apologised. “Sorry about that, Kreacher. Wasn’t paying attention.”

Kreacher looked up at his master and frowned. Clicking his fingers, he conjured a clothes brush, cleaning off a small patch of dust. “Did Master enjoy his evening?”

A goofy grin appeared on Harry’s face. “Very much so, Kreacher. Enjoyable pass time and even more enjoyable company.”

“Will the young lady be joining us?” Kreacher asked.

“It was a first date, Kreacher!” Harry exclaimed, blushing brightly.

“Kreacher knows that, Master.” The elf said diplomatically. “But Master Sirius had many ‘first dates’, and the young ladies always spent the night.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, Sirius was a dog, Kreacher. I’m not wired quite that way. Would it be a problem if I brought her back?”

Kreacher paused for a moment. “Young Mistress would be a Muggle?”

“She is.”

“Kreacher… has not had experience of being round Muggles.”

“She’s still human, Kreacher.” Harry smiled warmly. “Plus, since she doesn’t have that ingrained pureblood dogma, she’ll find you fascinating. She wouldn’t treat you like hippogriff droppings.”

“Kreacher will try, Master.”

“Actually, that’s something I wanted to ask you. I know that Muggles can’t see many magical things. Are you visible to non-magical people?”

“All elves are visible, Master. We can, however, make ourselves invisible, just like wizards can.”

“Can you use glamours?” Harry asked.

“Elves can mimic wizards, Master, yes.”

“Hmm… good to know. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to be anything other than you are, though, Kreacher. I respect you too much for that.”

Every so often, the young Master would surprise Kreacher. His respect for house elves, and him in particular, was unlike anything else. The most incomprehensible thing about the whole situation was the warm glow Kreacher got in his chest whenever these little surprises occurred. It’d taken him a while, but he realised that he liked his new master, and he liked the respect he was given. It was one of the reasons that he’d changed his behaviour so radically; he wanted more.

“Kreacher thanks you, Master.” The elf said, blushing a bright green. “Kreacher is honoured.”

“No problem, Kreacher.” Harry said. “So, what shall we cook for breakfast?”

After teaching Kreacher how to cook a proper Eggs Benedict, the two retired to their separate past-times; Kreacher knitting himself a blanket in his little house, while Harry stared at the phone in the living room. It’s only 10:30… is this too early?He mentally flipped a coin. Why’d I just do that? I didn’t even decide which was ‘yes’ and which was ‘no’… sod it.

He picked up the handset and dialled. After only two rings, the handset was picked up. “Hello?

“Hi, Victoria. It’s Harry.”

You called!

“Er… yes?”

Sorry. I know I shouldn’t sound surprised, but you’d be amazed how many blokes say they’ll call, and then don’t. Personally, I think it’s a scheme to make us more eager.

Harry snickered lightly. “Yeah, one of my dorm-mates told me about it. I think he called it ‘treat ’em mean and keep ’em keen’. I don’t like games like that.”

Me either. I’m glad you called.

“Me too. So…” Harry cleared his throat nervously. “I was wondering about today.”

Yes?” Victoria’s voice sounded a little more guarded.

“Well, we talked about going catching a film, but it’s a beautiful day. I was thinking about going and having a picnic.”

That sounds good.” Victoria said, her tone back to happy/carefree. “There’s a nice field near the docks that serves as a picnic site. I could meet you there for… lunch, if you’d like.

“I’d like.” Harry said quickly. “I’d very much like. Shall we say… one-ish? I’ll bring the basket.”

Sounds good. I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Be good, Harry.

“With you as inspiration…” Oh, god, that sounded so cheesy!

Hmm… I might hold you to that.” Victoria teased. “I’ll see you in a bit.

“See you later.” Harry said, smiling into the handset, before putting it down. He looked up, only to yelp as Kreacher was stood in the doorway, holding a huge picnic basket. “Jesus, Kreacher, don’t do that!”

“Kreacher is… well, not sorry, Master. Kreacher knew that Master would want picnic basket.”

Getting up, Harry shot over to the doorway, lifting the heavy basket off the small elf. “Thank you, Kreacher. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

“Basket is Muggle-safe, Master. Nothing that shows wizard food.”

“Nothing involving pumpkins, then.” Harry said, rifling through the basket. “Oh, you made trifle! Kreacher, you’re the best!”

“Kreacher also made some pumpkin pie, Master.”

Harry was about to nod, when a thought crossed his mind. “I’ve kinda gone off pumpkin pie, Kreacher… I don’t know why. Just… no, I will have some. Just… doesn’t seem as appealing as it used to.”

The elf frowned. “Master? Pumpkin pie is nutritious and tasty. Master should have some to keep healthy.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah… yeah. Just… for a moment there, I kinda went off it.” He shook his head. “Never mind. Yeah, I’ll have some.”

Harry stood by the entry way to the field, looking around nervously. A second date… this is a curious occasion. I’ve only ever had first dates… and Hosepipe Chang didn’t really count. And I wouldn’t call my snog-fests with Ginny ‘dating’, either.

He looked up, spotting his date arriving. Fuck, she’s stunning! And she was. Wearing a tight vest-top and a denim knee-length skirt, Victoria was truly a sight to behold. And she was coming here to meet him!

“Hi.” He said, smiling warmly at her.

She grinned and waved slightly. “Hi there.” Before she could say anything else, Harry was throwing the blanket onto the ground, smoothing the edges.

“Your seat, milady.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Victoria replied with a small curtsey, before settling down. “How’ve you been today, Harry?”

“Very excited.” He replied guilelessly. “Also been a bit nervous.”

Victoria smiled at him. He was so sweet, and so open. None of the whole ‘is he playing me?’ routine. She found him to be rather refreshing. “Yeah, me too. I’m glad you called.”

“How could I not?” He replied, smiling at her. “You get up to anything… this morning…” He trailed off as he realised they’d parted company a whopping twelve hours ago. “That was a bit of a silly question, wasn’t it?”

Victoria giggled shyly. “Well, I had a very pleasant sleep after a very pleasant evening… then you called. So, I’ve had a pretty good day so far.”

“I’m glad, Victoria.” Harry said, reaching in and unloading the picnic basket. He quickly began passing her food and drink, before loading up a plate for him. I wonder if Hermione… no, don’t think about Hermione. He looked up at Victoria.

“Can I ask you something?” She asked suddenly.

“Please.”

“You’re the only person I’ve met over here who hasn’t shortened my name. I… I was just wondering why.”

Harry leaned back to ponder the question. “Well, there’s quite a few shortened versions of your name, ‘Vicky’, ‘Vic’, ‘Tory’… none of them seem to fit you, though.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Besides, if memory serves, ‘Victoria’ was a goddess back in Roman times… I think it kinda fits.”

Instantly, her cheeks filled with blood. “G-Goddess?” She stammered, cursing her voice for betraying her.

Harry nodded. “Like I said… it fits you.”

“You’re very sweet, Harry.” She smiled shyly at him. “Thank you.”

He reached out and gently stroked the back of her hand. “Entirely my pleasure.” He said huskily.

Victoria felt something she hadn’t felt for a long time; she felt desired. And even better, it was with a gorgeous hunk of a man. Putting her plate to one side, she leaned a little closer to Harry. “Thank you again, kind sir.” She whispered breathily, before closing the gap, pressing a light kiss against his lips. She leaned back suddenly when Harry let out a noise that could only be described as an ‘eep!’

“I’m… I’m sorry.” She said quickly, moving back further. “I…”

Harry held up his hand. “No… no, don’t apologise. I… I just didn’t expect it.”

“No, I was too-”

She was cut off as Harry leaned forward, pressing his lips clumsily against hers. To her delight, it only took him a moment to mould to her, before he parted his lips slightly, letting his tongue trail over her lips. She moaned and opened her mouth, kissing him back fiercely.

After a few moments, they broke apart, both breathing heavily. “That was nice…” Victoria muttered, blushing brightly.

“Yeah…” Harry replied, blushing equally to her. “Very nice…”

Their eyes met as they leaned in closer, lips locking together.

Harry continued to meet with Victoria as the weeks passed. Together, the explored the cinema (including a very comfortable snogging spot on the back row), the theatre (where fumbling was generally frowned upon), several art galleries and other attractions.

For their one month anniversary (as only a teenager would celebrate, although Victoria quite enjoyed the idea, too), Harry proposed the pair of them go to the best restaurant they could find. He managed to dig out a suit, while Victoria splurged on a sexy little black dress that certainly emphasised the ‘little’.

As they left the restaurant, Harry couldn’t keep his hands off her. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her as passionately as he could. She grabbed hold of his arms and pulled him backwards, leaning up against a wall as he began nibbling on her neck. “So good…” she murmured, gasping as Harry’s hands took hold of her buttocks. “So good, oh, Harry…” Taking a chance, she reached down, feeling Harry hiss as she gripped him through his trousers.

“Yes…” Harry moaned as she began to move her hand up and down. “Wait… I’m…”

Reluctantly, Victoria released her prize. “Walk me home?” She asked, smiling coyly at him.

“My pleasure, ma’am.” Harry said, panting slightly.

They continued on their walk, stopping whenever an amorous impulse overcame Harry… which was a record sixteen times on the two mile walk.

Outside her house, Victoria grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him passionately.

“Harry…” Victoria whispered, pulling back just enough to break the chain of kisses. She grinned at his pathetic pout. “Harry!”

With a dramatic sigh, Harry leaned back slightly. “Yes?” He asked huskily.

“Would you…” Victoria cleared her throat. “Would you like to come inside?”

The thought ‘Oh hell yes!’ ran rampant throughout Harry’s mind, but he knew he had to be the gentleman he was. She’d been burned by her ex-husband, and he… well, Lockhart was right; fame is a fickle friend. “Are you sure?” He asked.

“God, yes!” She groaned harshly, grabbing hold of his shirt and hauling him inside.

The door had barely had time to slam shut before they were kissing again, meeting in a glorious clash of teeth, tongues and passion. She squeaked as Harry’s hands fastened on her bottom, kneading her cheeks oh-so-perfectly. She quickly returned the favour, grabbing Harry and mauling his taut and delicious buttocks.

After a moment, though, she wanted… she needed more. She released his arse, reaching up to tug on the buttons of his shirt. About halfway down, she growled, ripping the rest of them off. She pulled the shirt off his shoulders, leaning forward to nibble on his neck, before lowering her attention to his chest. He was completely hairless and utterly cute. She ran her tongue over one of his nipples, making him moan slightly.

Grinning to herself, she flicked her tongue over the small nub, relishing in the power of making Harry lose control so easily. Her hands ran up and down his ribs, before moving to the buckle of his belt.

“Are you… god… absolutely s-sure?” He managed to stammer.

“Yes!” She hissed onto his nipple, sending a shudder down his spine. She quickly unbuckled the belt, ripping off the button of his chinos before savagely pushing them down. “Ooh, commando…” She hissed in pleasure.

She mewed when Harry’s hands left her bottom and straightened her up. She mewed again as Harry kissed her with every ounce of passion in her body, almost robbing her of thought (which wasn’t saying much, considering her thoughts generally consisted of ‘want more… give…’)

As he broke the kiss, he dropped to one knee, running his hands up her calf muscles, before gently taking hold of the hem of her evening dress. “Is it all right?” He asked.

“Please…” Victoria gasped as Harry slowly stood up, pulling her dress up with him. She could feel her legs and hips exposed to the air as the dress rose higher and higher. She thrust her arms up, letting Harry pull the dress over her head and allowing it to fall to the floor.

She was stood before him, clad in just her bra, panties and stockings. For a few moments, she felt a genuine wave of fear; she was in good shape, but she was almost twice his age. Would he-

“Stunning…” Harry said, drinking in the sight of her like a drowning man would suck in oxygen. “Absolutely stunning…”

For the first time in a long time, Victoria felt sexy. She felt like a woman. All of her fears melted away. Even though she’d not known Harry for more than a month, she knew that he was completely honourable and completely honest. He hasn’t said a single thing he hadn’t meant. And that meant that he really did find her stunning.

“Thank you.” Victoria whispered tenderly, before reaching up behind herself to uncatch her bra. Letting the material drop to the floor, she took a step backwards. “Come and get me!”

Before she’d finished speaking, Harry surged forward, stepping smoothly out of his trousers. He wrapped his arms around her, locking his lips onto her and kissing her fiercely. His hands began to trace patterns on her naked back, making her shiver in delight. The last few ‘encounters’ she’d had with Frank-The-Bastard had been almost violent, and the feeling of her young stud boyfriend being so tender, so loving… it was simply breathtaking.

She began to purr as Harry slowly kissed his way along her jawline, then gasped as he found the sweet spot just below her ear. He licked, nibbled and gently sucked on that tiny patch of skin, making her head spin.

Pulling back, he kissed her tenderly, before moving his hands from her back. He traced his fingers up her ribs, stopping just below the curve of her breasts. After a few moments, his hands continued their trek, running feather-light caresses on her chest. She sighed as he moved his hands in circles, raising goosebumps with each pass.

He worked his way in a spiral from the edge of her breasts into the nipples, before lightly teasing them. The small nubs were already super-sensitive, and his caresses were just right to send a wave of heat to pool in her belly. And all the while, he kept kissing her gently.

She almost didn’t recognise her orgasm until it washed over her. She felt her knees buckle, but Harry’s strong arms held her tightly, allowing her to cry out into his mouth as the pleasure filled her.

When she came back to herself, Harry was still gently kissing her. She pulled back slightly. “Bedroom?” She asked, looking at him with such passion, it nearly caused him to orgasm.

“Bedroom.” Harry said, putting his hands on her bottom and heaving up. Victoria instantly wrapped her legs round his waist and her arms round his neck, letting him carry her into the bedroom.

Once inside, he leaned forward, letting her back hit the bed gently, before she unwrapped herself and sat up, keeping the kiss going. Almost instantly, her hands locked onto Harry’s cock, beginning a smooth, leisurely stroke. “I’ve wanted this for ages…” She murmured, staring down at the wonderful piece of hard flesh.

“It’s wanted you…” Harry groaned, before shaking his head slightly. “Hang on… not finished with you…” He stepped back, dropping to his knees in front of her.

“What are you…” Victoria’s eyes widened in shock as she realised what he was planning. Frank had never done this! “You don’t have to…” She began shyly, only to trail off as she saw the look on Harry’s face.

“Please…” He whispered, staring with such hunger that she had no choice but to part her thighs wider. Harry moved forward, running his nose up the gusset of her underwear, before reaching out with a slightly shaking hand, moving the soft and more-than-damp fabric to one side.

Victoria gurgled as he began to trail soft kisses to the inside of her thighs, before he moved his attention. Almost instantly, he found her clit and began to flick it with just the tip of his tongue. Slowly, he began a flicking path down one lip and back up the other, before sucking on her clit. Her back arched as another orgasm began in her belly.

Harry wasn’t unaware of the impact of his actions, but he was enjoying himself far too much to worry about her impending release. He extended his tongue as much as he could, before reaching up to gently open her up, revealing a delicately pink opening. He licked his way all round the edges, before pushing his tongue inside her. He could feel the muscles rippling as she came, and came hard. Her thighs clamped round his head, holding him in place as he continued to lick and suck at the soft and delicious skin.

With stars behind her eyes, Victoria looked down at Harry, who showed no signs of stopping his delightful torture. Foreplay… he’s so good at it! She mused happily, while orgasm #3 started to form. Oh, I hope I can do this back to him… She could feel the burning begin in her stomach as again she cried out her release.

Harry looked up at her, smiling into her pussy. She was sweet, delicious and just about perfect, far as he was concerned. His smile faded as she pulled herself backwards, moving further up the bed.

“Too much…” She gasped, panting like a thirsty dog. She patted the bed. “Come up here…” She asked.

Harry shot up from his knees, clambering up onto the bed smoothly. Again, she reached out and began to caress his cock. “You’re so big, Harry…” She cooed, making him blush. “I can’t wait…”

He moaned as she fell into a perfect stroke. “Just… give me a… need to get from my trousers…”

Victoria released one of her hands to pull open one of the drawers in her bedside table, passing a sealed box to him. “I, er… I got some this morning.”

With a grin, Harry took the box of condoms from her, unwrapping them slowly. He had to go slowly since Victoria had returned the hand to his cock and was back to playing with him. To his secret pride, she was using both hands… and they didn’t meet in the middle.

Ripping open the foil packet, he pulled out the contraceptive, placing the tip on his smaller head. Victoria released him and began to roll the rubber down, stopping when she was an inch from the base.

“God, get that in me!” She groaned, parting her legs as she helped manoeuvre him into place. She could feel the tip pressing against her, stretching the muscles.

“Are you sure?” He asked again.

“Stop being a gentleman, Harry!” She commanded, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him forward. “Just… please!”

He reached down, taking hold of his cock and muttering something under his breath. Slowly, he began to push forward. Was it because he was huge? Was it because she was tight? Did it matter? No… because pushing himself into the beautiful woman in front of him was like wrapping a velvet vice around his cock.

Victoria shuddered as he entered her, and he was concerned that he was hurting her… until she pulled him all the way in with her heels. Instantly, her back arched as she orgasmed again. Harry could feel the muscles ripple along his entire length, making him want to start pounding away like a madman. He pulled back slowly, before plunging forward.

“Yes…” She cried out, rolling her hips as he entered her again.

Wanting more, Harry leaned forward, kissing her harshly. His gentlemanly persona fell away as he ‘popped his cherry’ on a beautiful woman. For the moment, nothing else mattered to him. Magic, Hermione, the Wizarding world… all was irrelevant. All that mattered was making this beautiful woman cum as hard as she could and as much as she could.

Victoria could feel the difference as Harry kissed her and began to thrust faster. This was what she wanted; a man who’d give her the sex she craved. Not some selfish encounter where he tried to orgasm as quickly as possible, but someone who’d prove that he cared by making her… She shrieked into his mouth as orgasm five filled her, closely followed by numbers six, seven, eight and nine.

Her last conscious thought of the evening was that, whoever the girl back in Britain was, she was a bloody fool for letting a catch like Harry get away from her.

Victoria awoke slowly. If that was a dream, let me never wake up. In between her legs, she ached, but it was a good ache. She could feel her entire body still flushed with the pleasure she’d experienced last night. Slowly, she opened her eyes… and the smile fell from her face. The bed next to her was empty. Oh… She had to suppress an urge to cry… which vanished when she heard the toilet flush.

A few moments later, Harry came out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on the towel. As soon as he spotted her eyes open, he smiled at her. “Good morning.”

She nodded at him, still battling with the strange abandonment she’d felt.

“Are you okay?” He asked tenderly, rushing over to the bed and sitting next to her, reaching up and caressing her cheek.

“I’m fine.” Victoria replied with a slight giggle. “For a minute, though… I thought you’d gone.”

“Leave?” Harry asked, sounding faintly revolted by the thought. “Why on Earth would I want to leave here?”

She smiled again. “I’m just being silly.” She said.

“No… it’s not silly.” He leaned down and kissed her, totally ignoring her morning breath, while he was minty-fresh. “I’m not a ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ kinda guy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Harry said, leaning down and kissing her again. “I’d much rather you say ‘do that again!’.”

She grinned at him. “Much as I wish I could, I really need the bathroom.” She pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose as she pushed back the duvet. “But keep it warm for me, stud. I’ll be back.”

Five minutes later, she was. Climbing back into the bed, she pulled up the covered before kissing Harry tenderly. Without breaking the kiss, she quickly rolled a condom on him, before straddling his thighs. “Ready for round two?” She asked with a grin, which turned into a ‘yelp’ as Harry sheathed himself inside her in one motion. It took only three thrusts from Harry to induce orgasm #1 of the morning…

After finally leaving the bed, where she’d need to be steadied, the two dressed and decided on a picnic. Victoria quickly packed a picnic basket, before taking him by the hand and leading him out.

Back at the field where they’d shared their first kiss, Victoria bent over to put the blanket out, squeaking slightly as Harry’s hands began to caress her bottom. “Behave!” She hissed sexily.

“Do you really want me to?” He asked, making no move to stop his gentle torture.

“No.” She admitted, wiggling slightly before she took hold of one of his hands and pulled him to the blanket. Once there, she ignored the food and began to kiss him again, enjoying the feeling of him running his hands up and down her arms.

“Harry…” She whispered.

“Hmm?” He opened his eyes, looking into hers intently.

“Can I… can I return the favour?”

He blinked. “What favour?”

Her hand slowly slid down his chest, coming to rest on a rather prominent erection. “This…”

His eyes shot open. “We’re in the middle of a field.”

She leaned closer and kissed him. “I know…”

“And you…”

“Yes.”

He blinked again. “Are you serious?” He gulped as a delicate hand began to lower his zip. “You are serious.” She nodded. “I… er… I didn’t bring any-”

“Not for this.” She said, leaning forward and kissing him. “I just want you.”

“I…” He chuckled nervously. “Sure.”

Victoria squee’d lightly as she kissed him, before shuffling slightly and pulled him out of his trousers. She glanced around, spotting that there wasn’t anyone watching before her tongue flicked out, licking the very tip of his cock. A small drop of fluid was already present, proof of just how aroused her stud lover was. She leaned forward slightly, taking the head into his mouth.

Hmm… make sure I don’t do this after he’s worn a condom. She thought to herself. That lubricant tastes nasty. She carried on sucking, licking away the spermicidal lubricant, before she got to his taste. Oh, that’s much better… She began to bob her head quicker and quicker, feeling his tool becoming harder. He’s ready to cum already?

“Victoria…” He groaned. “I’m…”

She brought her head up for a moment. “Cum, Harry…” She whispered, blowing on the tip of his cock. “Cum for me, lover…” She lowered her head back down, flicking her tongue over Harry’s little head as he keened softly, before the cock in her mouth reared back slightly, and the first blast of hot cum entered her mouth. Wow… he tastes good. She carried on sucking and pumping, aiming to milk him dry.

Harry groaned harshly as his goddess gave him his first ever blowjob, and let him cum in her mouth. He’d never felt anything like this before, and vowed to return the favour… when his legs worked again.

She looked up at him, before winking slightly and swallowing noisily.

“Wow…” He murmured, making her blush as he stared at her with such emotion…

“Thank you.” She said, leaning forward and kissing the tip of his nose. She yelped as Harry rolled her onto her back, kissing her while one hand gently mauled a breast. She couldn’t see what the other hand was doing, but she felt it return after a moment.

What happened after that, Victoria couldn’t be sure. The constant orgasms Harry forced out of her made her forget almost everything… except him. She was fairly certain she loved him…

Eleven Months Later…

Hermione stepped out of the Portkey booth, and immediately headed over to the bins. Less than thirty seconds later, she was throwing up everything she’d ever eaten. Reduced to dry heaving, she clutched onto the bin weakly, barely managing to keep herself upright. I hate Portkeys… she thought viciously.

Finally straightening, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, before a few charms cleaned her up and removed the vile taste from her mouth.

Within a few moments, an attendant had arrived. “Good morning, Miss. Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly. “I don’t like Portkeys.” She mumbled.

“Yes… it’s a common occurrence. I assume, by your accent, that you’re from Britain?”

“I am.”

“May I ask the purpose of your visit to New Zealand?”

“My name’s Hermione Granger.” She said. “Almost two years ago, I helped my Muggle parents relocate here. I’m hoping to find them.”

“Ah.” The assistant pulled out a piece of parchment. “And their names?”

She quickly gave the names she’d hidden them under, waiting to see if the local Ministry had any record. The search took less than two minutes. “We have a record of a Mr. Stone living in Sunnyvale. According to records, he divorced approximately two years ago.”

“T-Two years ago?” Hermione asked, stunned at the revelation. They divorced as soon as they got here? Why? “Any more information?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid, Miss.” The assistant said softly. “We do have an address, if you’d like.”

“Please.” She took the piece of paper the assistant offered. “What about my mother?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have any records under the name that you gave, miss. If she’s changed her name, we wouldn’t be able to find her. Can you remember where you helped her to relocate to?”

“It was here.” She said. “Auckland.”

“I see… do you remember the address?”

As Hermione gave it to him, he slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid that house was sold and knocked down, miss. It’s become a playground now.”

“Oh…” Hermione sighed. “Maybe my Dad’ll have more of an idea.”

After a week of travelling, Hermione had finally reached her father’s house. It was with a quick memory charm reversal that she got the story, and was able to put the missing pieces together.

According to Frank, they’d been having problems with their marriage for years, which they’d carefully hidden from her. The only reason they’d stayed together was that they wanted to give her a good, loving home. Without Hermione in the picture, they’d had no reason to stay together and split… after her mother found Frank in bed with a fourteen year old child. A bit more probing found out that Frank was actually rather sick in the head; indeed, Hermione’d been conceived when her mother was just fifteen, while he was a rather unacceptable twenty-six. She slapped her father and left, only after finding out that Frank had no idea where to find her mother.

Hermione had slowly made her way back to Auckland, hoping to pick up the trail of her mother. Staying in Bed and Breakfasts to make her dwindling funds last longer, she’d decided to hit the local market for some food. What she found there shocked her.

“H-Harry?” Hermione looked up, seeing the man who’d literally died for her, stood across the market. Without thinking, she rushed up to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Harry was suddenly accosted by vanilla-smelling brown hair, and felt a pang in his chest. “Hello…” He groaned, feeling his ribs protest at a Hermi-Hug™ “I… can’t… breathe… Hermione!” He sighed in relief as she let him go.

“Oh, my god!” Hermione was staring at him. “Harry!”

“Yes, we established that.” Harry said, clutching his sides weakly. “Been a while, Hermione.” He looked around. “Where’s Ron?”

“Ah…” Hermione blushed and looked down. “He’s, er… he’s still in England. Far as I know, he’s at the Burrow.”

“Oh.” Harry looked confused. “Why’s he there if you’re here? And what brings you to New Zealand anyway?”

“I’ve…” Hermione cleared her throat nervously. “I’ve come to get my parents.”

“Your parents?” Harry exclaimed. “Now? Hermione, it’s been a year!”

“I know.” Hermione said, sniffling slightly. “There were… things, going on back home. It’s… complicated.”

“Oh. I see.” He didn’t, but didn’t want to reveal that. “Okay, you’re on this side of the world to get your parents, but why En-Zee? You said you sent ‘Wendell’ and ‘Monica’ to Australia?”

“No. I brought them here.” Hermione said. “I figured it was another layer of protection if no-one knew where they were. If we were captured…”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Harry said. “But still, Hermione… what could possibly have happened that would delay you by a whole year?”

“It’s a long story, Harry.” She said, smiling faintly now she was back with him. “If you’d like, we can grab some dinner.”

“Ah, can’t tonight.” Harry said. “I’ve got… actually, that’s something else that’s changed.”

“Oh… you’re… involved with someone?” Hermione asked, carefully disguising the hurt she felt.

“You could say that.” Harry said politely. “Living together, actually. Have been for over six months.”

“C-Congratulations.” Hermione stammered. “I’m… happy for you?”

Harry missed the question at the end. “Yeah, she’s great.” He smiled happily. “So… how’s the search for your parents going?”

“Well, I found my Dad.” Hermione said, slightly glad to move the conversation back to a safer topic. “He was living in Sunnyvale.”

“Just your Dad?” Harry asked. “Where’s your Mum?”

“I don’t know.” Hermione said sadly. “Apparently, they split up shortly after they got here. According to him, they didn’t really have anything in common apart from me. Without me there… they s-split.”

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, holding her in comfort. “Shh, Hermione. It’s okay.” The arms vanished when a mobile began to ring. “Hang on a second.” Harry flipped his phone open. “Hello?

“Hey, gorgeous!

“No, I’m fine, thanks.

“Yeah, just at the market. Figured I’d get some of that salmon you love so much.

“And the wine. Good lord, people’d think we’re alcoholics.

“No, I’m not saying we’re alcoholics. Nor are we fat.

“You’d look stunning dressed in burlap, love.”

Hermione listened to the conversation, feeling a stab of jealousy rush through her… but she couldn’t blame Harry. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in about half an hour.” Harry began to blush slightly.

“Er… the red one? Well, yes, I like that… and the boots?

“Are you trying to kill me?

“Oh, definitely with a smile on my face. But you already know that.” He smiled into the phone. “I have to go. Otherwise I’ll be late back.” He blew a kiss into the phone. “I love you, too.”

Those words made Hermione’s resolve crack, but she struggled to keep her mask in place. Harry closed the phone, slipping it back into his pocket. “Hermione, I should go. Tell you what, though; why don’t you come up to the house tomorrow, say elevenish?”

“You have a house?” She asked slowly.

“Yeah, but the city limits. It’s just off Clive Road, near Mount Eden. Big grassy field near it. Pop over in the morning. I’ll introduce you to my better half.”

“Okay…” Hermione managed to keep herself together until Harry had paid for his shopping and left, before the tears started to fall.

Harry pulled the car up, and barely had the key out of the ignition before the door was open and he was racing up to the house. He opened the door and stepped inside. “Hi, Honey, I’m ho… holy shit!” He was forced to blink as he took in the scene in front of him.

Victoria was laying on the couch, wearing one of Harry’s favourite outfits; a red lace garter and a pair of shiny black PVC thigh high boots. “Hello, lover.” She whispered, every inch of her screaming ‘seduction!’

Harry growled before pouncing.

In the aftermath, the pair cuddling, Harry brought up his afternoon. “Do you remember me telling you about the woman back in England?”

Victoria was running her fingers along Harry’s breast bone, nibbling on his ear contentedly. She pulled back slightly. “Yeah… Hermione, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” Harry moaned slightly as she resumed her nibbling. “I saw her in the market.” The nibbling stopped.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She’s here without her boyfriend, apparently. I invited her up here tomorrow, so we could catch up.”

Victoria’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Indeed?”

“Yeah… I wanna introduce you to her.” Harry said guilelessly. “She was my best friend for seven years. I think it’s right that I introduce her to the woman I love.”

Slowly, the annoyance faded… mostly. “I’d like to meet her.” Because she’s a bloody idiot. “Did she say what brought her to this part of the world?”

“I didn’t ask.” Harry said, swivelling his head slowly. “Is it okay if she comes here?”

Victoria nodded.

Harry, while lovably clueless about some things, could easily read his lover. “Are you worried about meeting her?”

“Not exactly.”

“Are you worried about me wanting her instead of you?”

“Yes.” Victoria whispered in a small voice. She gasped as she felt Harry’s renewed interest poking her in the thigh.

“Well, I’m sorry, Victoria, but you’re stuck with me.” He said huskily. “I’m yours, and you’re mine… and I won’t let anything come between us.”

“Except this…” Victoria moaned as she repositioned Harry and slid forward. “So good…”

“I will not leave you.” Harry said as he moved inside her. He reached up, taking a gentle hold of her chin and making eye contact. “I love you, and I will not leave you. I promise.”

A tear slid out of her eye as she began to groan softly. “I love you, too.” She whispered. “So very much…”

The following day, Harry was awake fairly early, feeling oddly ambivalent about the upcoming encounter. He was looking forward to catching up with an old friend, but he was nervous about that friend being Hermione. When he’d hugged her yesterday, he could feel a small part of himself wondering what could have been had Ron not been around… but he stamped that down.

Victoria, bless her little cotton socks, had offered to give him some privacy to meet with Hermione. While they were talking, she’d lounge by the pool, working on her tan.

As the appointed hour grew closer, Harry became more nervous. A comforting blowjob from his lover managed to calm him down enough to sit quietly, making her chuckle. “You’ll be fine, stud.” She said, pressing a kiss to his lips as she walked outside in a barely-there bikini.

“Keep it warm for me!” He shouted back, smiling as she wiggled her bottom at him before vanishing to her lounger.

A knock on the door made Harry leap to his feet, rushing to the door. On the other side was Hermione, wearing a simple white linen dress and sandals. She’s pretty, a part of his mind mused, but so’s Victoria. He welcomed her inside, before leading her into the living room.

“So…” He began, only to trail off as he didn’t quite know how to start a conversation with her, a new first.

“There’s a lot for us to talk about.” Hermione said simply, standing in the middle of the floor. “It’s about what happened after you left.”

“If I’m honest, Hermione, I’ve lost interest in Britain.”

“There’s things you don’t know about, Harry.” Hermione said, settling herself on the comfy couch. “Things about Dumbledore…”

Harry rolled his eyes. “There’s many things I don’t know about Dumbledore, Hermione, and if I’m brutally honest, I don’t care about. He manipulated my life from when I was fifteen months old. I’m free of that whole bloody world, and I’m happy with that.”

Hermione huffed for a moment. “Do you remember the Hunt?”

“Not likely to forget it.” Harry said simply.

“Before the attack in Godric’s Hollow, you were missing Ginny. Then, after the attack, you were dead apathetic about going back to her.”

“I remember.” Harry said. “I guess I got over her. There wasn’t really anything between us, anyway.”

“No, there was.” Hermione corrected. “But, not what you think. Tell me, what do you know about love enchantments?”

“Potions mainly.” Harry said. “But, I got checked out by Pomfrey, remember? I wasn’t under a love potion.”

“No, not a potion.” Hermione said. “An enchantment. Think of it as the equivalent of a low-powered love spell. It’s not like Amortentia, where you become obsessed with someone instantly, but more subtle. It takes time to burrow into your subconscious, before making itself known. In your case, it made itself known as a monster in your chest that growled whenever you saw Ginny with Dean.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me that Ginny used a love spell on me?”

“No. Not Ginny.”

With a growl, Harry leaned back. “Molly… I bet it was her, wasn’t it? Wanting her ‘One, Big, Happy Weasley Family!”

“No, not Molly. When I told her about this, she was horrified.”

“Then who?”

“You already know the answer to that, Harry.”

“Dumbledore…” Harry’s eyes flashed green for a moment. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Harry slumped backwards in his chair. “Why?” He whispered brokenly. “Why would he do this?”

“Genetics.”

“Eh?”

“The Potter Family and the Weasley family never interbred directly. There was a Black who married a Weasley, and that Black was a relation of your paternal grandmother’s, but they never had children. By having your DNA mixed in with Weasley DNA, it would make a magically-strong baby, and reduce the risk of inbreeding. Same for me and Ron, really.”

“But… you love Ron.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You… you went back to him, when he came back on the hunt… and just before I went out to face Voldemort, you practically raped him.”

“A situation I’m well aware of and I feel appropriately violated by.” Hermione said primly. “Dumbledore placed an enchantment on you, just before sixth year began. Then, after the Sorting feast that year, he placed one on me.”

“But… I got myself checked out.” Harry protested weakly. “There wasn’t any spells, potions or enchantments on me.”

“Sorry, I misspoke.” Hermione said. “What’s the one thing a witch or wizard will not leave home without?”

Harry wasn’t thick. “It was on my wand, wasn’t it? And when it broke after Nagini’s attack…”

“The enchantment fell away. Leaving you free and clear.”

“And you?”

“My wand got damaged about a month ago. When I took it to Ollivander, he told me about the spell then broke it. You could say I ‘woke up’ at that point, and realised that I was pretty much living with my brother. I had quite an argument with Ron about that, thinking it was him.”

“How did you know it was Dumbledore?”

“Who else could it have been?” Hermione volleyed back. “So, I went to see Professor McGonagall, and spoke to Dumbledore’s portrait. It was solely for the purpose of fixing the inbreeding problems in the Wizarding world. The Weasleys were completely unaware of it. All of them were devastated by the news.”

Harry sighed. “So… you were staying with Ron?”

“I was. While Ron wasn’t… abusive as such, he’s still a pureblood wizard, and he expected his rules to be followed. He didn’t want me to come and get my parents, since it could take months to find them.”

“Hermione, you’re many things, but you’re not exactly some timid little girl who just buckles under pressure.”

“I was also under a pretty strong enchantment. It was a catch-22, Harry. I couldn’t let Ron down, and leaving for months to find my parents would make him unhappy. It wasn’t until I cracked my wand that I realised.” Hermione sniffled slightly. “During the hunt… we were getting closer, Harry. That was true.”

Harry stood up sharply. “Hermione… like I said, I’m involved with someone now. I love her.”

“I know.” Hermione said sadly, looking down at her shoes. “But I thought you deserved to know the truth.” She sniffled, before regaining her composure. “Where is she, anyway?”

“She’s out by the pool.” Harry said, gesturing absently over his shoulder. “She thought that you and I should speak in private before I introduced you to her.”

“Oh…” Hermione stood up, brushing down her dress. “Well, no time like the present.”

Harry chuckled. “Said by the girl who abused a time-turner.”

Being led out to the pool, Hermione took in her first glimpse of the other woman. She was lying face-down on a lounger, the sun beating down on her. Slowly, Hermione made an assessment. Hmm… not a bad arse on her. Legs that go on for miles… damn her. Bet she’s got cracking tits, too. She sighed softly. Can’t exactly deny Harry having a good-looking woman. He gave up so much for our world.

“Hermione Granger, I’d like you to meet the woman I love, Victoria Shaw.”

Victoria rolled over, holding her hand over her eyes to block the sunlight. “Hello.” She got up, looking at the girl from Harry’s past.

Hermione’s eyes were wide with shock, but she managed to extend her hand. “Nice to meet you, V-Victoria.” She said, swallowing nervously. How the bloody fuck has this happened? She mused to herself. Harry always was fate’s bitch. What do I say? ‘Oh, by the way, Harry, that woman you’re living with and love? Yeah, she’s my mother…’ Except… at the moment, she’s not. At this moment, she’s just Victoria Shaw. She plastered a smile on her face. “So…”

While Hermione was musing, Victoria was looking the younger woman up and down. Hmm… good-looking, nice rack… bet she’s got a butt that could crack walnuts. Can certainly see why Harry was into her… I wonder why she turned him down.Leading the other pair to the seating, Victoria settled herself on her lounger. “So, Hermione… what brings you to New Zealand?”

“I was… er…” She glanced at Harry. “Have you told her about the difficulties in Britain?”

“Yep.” Harry said. “I told her about the terrorist threat and his actions on me personally.”

Hermione quickly took that to mean that he’d told her about Voldemort, but had conveniently left out the magical parts. “Well, while things were getting so bad back in Britain, I helped my parents move over here.”

“Oh… that was nice of you.” Victoria said. “I’m sure they appreciated your thoughtfulness.”

I doubt it. Hermione thought. “Well, since things have settled down back home, I thought I’d come and find them. See how they are.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Victoria asked, genuinely curious. She was quite… drawn to this girl, despite having only just met her.

“I found my Dad.” Hermione admitted. “Apparently, they split shortly after they got here. He was living with someone else.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Victoria said politely. “Any news of your mother?”

Nothing I want to admit to. Harry would probably go ape-shit at me. “Not a lot so far.” Hermione replied diplomatically. “But, I’ve only been here a short time.” She leaned back in her chair. It was good to talk to her mother again, even if she didn’t know she was her mother. “I’ve only got another couple of weeks to search, though.”

“Oh?” Harry leaned forward. “Why’s that, Hermione?”

“Well…” She trailed off in embarrassment. “Just… limited t-time, really.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Hermione, I hate to pry… but are you short on money?”

Timidly, Hermione nodded.

Victoria met Harry’s eyes, her head tilting slightly. Harry shrugged, nodding. Victoria nodded back. “Hermione, you’re a friend of Harry’s… maybe you could stay here?”

Hermione’s head shot up. “Oh, I couldn’t-”

“You could.” Harry interrupted. “I realise that things weren’t great between us when I left Britain, but you are one of my best friends… there’s no problem if you want to stay.” He grinned smugly. “Besides, I’ve not shown you my library yet.”

Victoria smirked as she saw Hermione’s breath hitch in her throat. “Ah…” She said, chuckling to herself, “a bookworm. I know the feeling… I love the library, too.”

Hermione glanced over at Harry, who was blushing faintly. He’s shagged her in the library… She concluded, then felt a wave of longing. If it wasn’t for Dumbledore, I could have had that… She sighed. No use in crying over spilt potion. “I… I look forward to seeing it, Harry.”

“I look forward to showing it to you.” Harry said. He sat next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Come on… I’ll help you move your stuff.” He looked up at Victoria. “Honey, could you pick out a room for her?”

The journey to Hermione’s small B&B was quick, since she’d only brought the clothes she was wearing and a couple of outfits to change in to. Inside the bag was a small trunk, which Harry knew contained all of her books.

Once back at the house, Hermione was quickly shown to her new bedroom, the one next to the master suite. She smiled sadly. She was living with Harry, and her mother… although, it certainly wasn’t the way she thought it’d be.

She slowly settled into her odd living arrangement, sharing many discussions with Harry about the state of the Wizarding world they’d both left behind. Once conversation stuck in her mind.

“So, what happened with Ron, Hermione?” Harry had asked while Victoria was out shopping for clothes.

“Ron was always a pureblood wizard, Harry. Part of his upbringing was the whole arrogance. As we… got together, he became more and more domineering, telling me what I could and couldn’t do, where I could go and who I could speak to. Naturally, I argued with him about that, but that bloody compulsion on my wand always made me back down.”

“I still don’t understand how Dumbledore could do that to us.” Harry said quietly. “All to fix the inbreeding problems.”

“He was a bigot, Harry. You remember Rita’s book, don’t you? Dumbledore wanted to save the world… for the purebloods. We were just tools to be used.”

He sighed. “Yeah…”

“And when… you left…”

“I couldn’t stay, Hermione.” Harry said, “It… it hurt too much. You picking Ron-”

“But I didn’t pick Ron, Harry.” Hermione interrupted quickly. “Dumbledore picked Ron for me. I wanted you before I left…”

“Things change, Hermione.” Harry said. “I’m happy now… I don’t want to lose that.”

“I know, Harry. And I wouldn’t want to come between you.” Hermione sighed. “So, what happened to Kreacher?”

“He… he died.” Harry said. “Old age finally caught up with him. It was about two months after we got here. He’s buried at the bottom of the garden. There’s a notice-me-not covering his marker.”

Hermione was getting settled into her new home, going out every so often to maintain the illusion of looking for her mother.

So far, they’d done a few things together, getting into the swing of having a room-mate. They’d gone out several times for meals, sometimes leaving Hermione behind as they went on dates.

But, tonight, the three of them were going out to New Zealand’s most famous night-club. She had no idea that things were going to change.

Inside the club, loud music played as a mass of people danced, sweated and groped each other. A squirming mass of humanity. Hermione couldn’t help but smile to herself as she noticed people doing things they really shouldn’t be in public.

After going to the bar, the three made their way to one of the stand-up tables. Hermione watched as her mother and Harry began to dance. Well… ‘dance’ was probably inaccurate. They were dry-humping each other through their clothes, and Hermione could see Harry’s hand working its way into her mother’s waist band.

Wincing slightly, she made her apologies, heading over to the rest room. One her way, she looked up, spotting three large, sweating and particularly unattractive young men staring at her. She could feel her skin crawl as they ogled her shamelessly. “Hello, darling.” The one in the middle drawled.

Oh, Merlin, I’m gonna be sick! Hermione thought. She took a small step back, grimacing as they each took a large step forward.

Victoria looked over Harry’s shoulder, her hips slowing as she took in the sight.

“What?” Harry whispered into her ear.

“Hermione could be in trouble.” She whispered back.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, spotting the local troublemakers advancing on his friend. “Shite…” He groused. Slowly, he pulled his hand out of Victoria’s waist band, and prepared to move. “Not in the mood for a fight…” He moaned softly.

“Let me.” She said quickly. “I think I know how to get rid of them.” She kissed him, before stepping back, subtly fixing her clothes.

Hermione was wondering how to get out of this situation when she felt someone step behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She looked over her shoulder to spot Victoria moving in, and squeaked when the older woman’s lips locked on hers. For a few seconds, Hermione kissed her back before she realised who/what/why/when/how. “Play along!” Victoria hissed in her ear as she pulled back. (*)

Hermione was in absolute shock; her mother had kissed her… and she was so close to orgasming! A few more seconds… were a failed desire as the older woman pulled back. “Thought you’d run off.” Victoria scolded lightly, before looking up at the troglodytes. “Sorry, lads… she’s mine.”

Reaching down, Victoria took hold of Hermione’s hand and began pulling her back to Harry.

Being pulled back, Hermione was in shock. What the hell just happened? A deep shame began to burn inside her. Oh my god… my Mum just snogged me… and I need to change my knickers. Oh god…

As she looked up into Harry’s eyes, the shame doubled. His face was free from worry. “Have fun?” He asked, sounding quite amused.

Hermione blushed and nodded jerkily.

Victoria laughed lightly. “Come on, Hermione. We can go and freshen up. You look like you could do with a few minutes to calm down.”

Harry just chuckled as he ambled to the bar, intent on getting them all fresh drinks.

Inside the rest room, Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. Oh Merlin, I’m a pervert! Victoria came up beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.” She said softly. “It was about the only way I could think of getting away from those lads without violence.”

Hermione squeaked and nodded. “It’s okay.” She whispered.

“No… I can tell I upset you.” Victoria said, slowly removing her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it.” Hermione whispered.

“Oh?”

“I… never mind.” She said, shaking her head and rushing into a cubicle. She sobbed quietly, pulling out several pieces of toilet roll. She blew her nose, before gathering her resolve. She was a Gryffindor… and Gryffindors face their fears. She dabbed her eyes again, before opening the door. Victoria was stood there, looking concerned.

“Sorry.” Hermione said. “I’ve… I’m not too comfortable with that sort of attention.”

“And I’m sorry-”

“No, the goon squad.” Hermione said. “There was a group of lads like that back at Hogwarts… they didn’t quite understand the ‘no means no’ principle.”

“Ah.” Victoria nodded, then stepped closer and pulled the younger woman into a hug. “Harry always does this when I’m feeling down.”

He used to do it to me, too. Hermione thought as she hugged her mother. How the hell do I fix this? She wondered. Sure, she could undo the memory charm… but that would effectively destroy the Victoria persona that Harry had clearly fallen in love with. Back when Harry’d left, he’d told her that he loved her too much to stand in the way of who she wanted to be with, and now that situation had neatly folded itself back on her.

“Come on.” Victoria said. “Let’s go and find Harry. I’m sure another few drinks will help us all loosen up.”

Harry was his usual concerned self when the pair exited the rest room, but a few smiles and a quick kiss from Victoria calmed him down. They managed to find a booth and sat down.

“Are you okay, Hermione?” Harry asked tenderly.

“I’m fine, Harry.” Hermione reassured him. “It’s just… three goons. Kinda reminds me of Malfoy and his bookends.”

“Ah, yes.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. You sure you’re okay? We can leave now if you want?” Victoria nodded supportively.

“No, I don’t want to cut your date short.” Hermione said. “I can just get a cab back to the house-”

“No.” Victoria said. “We’ll either all stay or all go, Hermione. It’s your choice.”

She sighed. “We’ll stay, then. Just… don’t wanna find any more creeps.”

“Well, I’m sure we could chase them off if you do find them.” Victoria added with a grin.

Hermione froze. Oh, god… if she touches me again, I’ll cum for sure! Bad Hermione, Bad Hermione… you’re a pervert… She shuddered slightly, disgusted with herself for enjoying the snog and even more disgusted for wanting more.

Harry shuffled round slightly, pulling her close into a one-armed hug, while keeping his other arm round Victoria. “Don’t worry, Hermione. We’ll protect you.”

Oh, god, I’m going to hell for this… She mused. I want them both… I’m sick, twisted, disgusting… Her musing was cut short as Victoria reached up to cup her cheek.

“You’re not looking too comfortable, Hermione.” She said. “I think we should go. A good night’s sleep will do you the world of good.”

Despite her protestations, Hermione found herself bustled out of the night club, and into the back of a taxi. It took a lot of effort to pretend not to notice Harry and Victoria grinding up against each other, gentle touches and kisses abounding. She could feel her knickers getting damper, imagining being in the middle of the pair of them, and feeling utterly ashamed for the thought.

As the taxi pulled out of the drive, Hermione retreated to her room, sitting on the edge of her bed. After a few moments, she heard a faint giggle, clearly feminine. Taking a chance, she pulled her wand from it’s disillusioned holder, tapping it against one temple, then the other.

For a few moments, she could see through the walls. Harry was on his knees in front of her mother, clearly performing a sexual act. Judging by the amount of writhing Victoria was doing, Harry was rather good at that particular sexual act.

She slumped as she watched the scene. Damn it… if my clit throbs anymore, they’ll bloody hear it… It was a mistake to come here. I should have just left. She sighed sadly, before watching the pair move up the bed and begin snuggling. Another tap of her wand allowed her to hear through the walls.

“…kissed my best friend. Should I be worried?” Harry asked, grinning to remove the sting from his words.

“She is dishy.” Victoria replied, smirking slightly at him. “And here was me worried about you.”

“I wouldn’t cheat.” Harry said firmly. “You know that. You remember Cheryl Queen.”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “Brainless chit, yes. She was pretty, though.”

“Pretty bloody stupid.” Harry groaned. “Still, shot her down. That’s all that matters.”

“You ever think about her like that?” Victoria asked, eyeing him closely.

“Cheryl? No, never-”

“No, not Cheryl. Hermione.” Victoria interrupted gently.

“I… Victoria, you know that’s not fair.”

“I know. But, I’m curious. She’s good-looking… you never once thought about it?”

“Of course I thought about it.” Harry said. “But, it never happened, and I’m with you now. I’m happy. I’m happy with you.

“And I’m happy with you too, lover.” Victoria replied, leaning up to kiss him.

In her bedroom, Hermione sobbed, the full weight of everything she’d lost hitting her.

“Can you hear that?” Victoria asked suddenly, looking directly at Hermione… or rather, the wall in between their bedrooms. “I think… she’s crying?”

Oh bollocks! Hermione thought, deactivating the spells and tucking her wand away. She flopped backwards on the bed, scrubbing her eyes viciously, hoping to remove the evidence of her crying.

A moment later, a knock on the door made her groan slightly. “Hermione?” Came her mother’s voice.

Hermione swallowed nervously. “Yeah?”

The door opened a crack. “Are you decent?”

No, I’m a disgusting pervert. “Yeah…”

The door opened all the way, revealing Victoria wearing a silk kimono.

Even when she’s just had an orgasm, she’s still bloody gorgeous… pervert… Hermione sat up. “Are you okay?” She asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Victoria said, stepping into the bedroom. “I… I thought I heard crying.”

Hermione scrubbed her eyes again. “Just… just thinking.”

Victoria came over, sitting down on the bed softly, and wrapping an arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “It’s okay…” She said soothingly, pulling Hermione into a loose hug.

Oh, god, I can smell her… I’m disgusting… Hermione clung to the older woman, sobbing lightly in shame. Another knock on the door announced Harry’s arrival. He poked his head round the door, seeing his two favourite women sitting on the bed. He let himself in, shutting the door behind him.

He sat on the other side of the bed, wrapping his arms around the pair of them. “It’s okay, Hermione… let it out.”

Hermione sobbed harder as she felt the support and comfort from the two of them. She didn’t deserve it!

“Come on, Hermione.” Harry whispered. “It’s okay… you’re safe here.”

After another ten minutes of sobbing, Hermione weakly pulled away, barely able to keep her eyes open. The two of them put her to bed, tucking her in gently before leaving the room, a single candle next to the bed kept on to illuminate the room.

“Sweet dreams.” Harry said from the doorway, before shutting the door.

The two of them returned to their own bedroom, Victoria thinking ferociously.

The following morning, after Harry woke her up with a mind-blowing orgasm, as was usual, Victoria showered and dressed, before shooing Harry out of the house. Once he was gone, she prepared a tray of breakfast, before heading up the stairs.

“Hermione?” She said softly, knocking on the door. She opened it, spotting Hermione sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Hermione yawned, spotting the breakfast tray. “Oh, thank you.”

Victoria placed the tray on the bedside table. “When you’re dressed, why don’t you come outside and sit with me? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Intrigued, Hermione nodded, before reaching for the tea on the tray.

Hermione quickly showered and dressed before heading downstairs, looking around for her not-quite-mother. She wasn’t in the kitchen, living room or library… She frowned as she headed for the patio doors, finding her sitting on the bench near the pool.

As the door opened, Victoria looked up. “Ah, Hermione. Come, sit with me, please.” She patted the bench beside her.

Slightly nervously, Hermione came out onto the patio, moving over to and sitting on the bench. She took in the outfit her mother was wearing; a denim mini-skirt (revealing a stunning pair of legs) and a spaghetti-strap top that only emphasised a great rack.

“Are you all right?” Victoria asked gently, placing an arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. “After last night, I mean?”

Hermione felt her breath hitch slightly, before nodding. “I’m o-okay.”

“No, you’re not.” Victoria said. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so confused…” Hermione sobbed. “When you…”

Victoria was a bright woman. “When I kissed you.” She said. “You enjoyed it.”

Hermione nodded.

“And you feel guilty because of it?”

Another nod.

“Why?”

“Because you’re with Harry… and I really enjoyed it.”

“Oh…” Victoria smiled gently. “You still love him, don’t you?”

Unconsciously, Hermione nodded again. “I… I do.”

“And you’re jealous of me?”

“Not just of you.” Hermione whispered. “Him, too.”

Victoria’s eyebrow rose delicately in shock. “Indeed… Hermione?” Hermione looked up, her eyes widening as Victoria moved closer. “I’m going to kiss you now.” And with that, she moved in, running her tongue over Hermione’s lips.

Hermione squeaked in shock, but couldn’t help herself; opening her mouth, she ran her tongue over her mother’s, feeling a pool of wetness race to her thighs. Oh, god… She reached up, taking hold of Victoria’s head and pulling her closer. I’m going to hell…

Victoria pulled back slightly, taking in the flushed face and slight pant of the younger woman. She pressed a featherlight kiss to her lips, before she stood up, making Hermione mew. She reached up, pulling her top off and letting it pool to the floor. She couldn’t help the wave of desire that shot through her as the younger woman’s eyes locked on her chest. “Do you want me?”

Hermione nodded vigorously, staring at the breasts she’d nursed on so many years ago. God, did she want her… She couldn’t help herself as she dropped to her knees in front of her mother, taking one delicately-pink nipple into her mouth and reaching up to play with the other one.

Gasping, Victoria, wrapped a hand round the back of Hermione’s head, holding her in place. She looked down, spotting a look of bliss on Hermione’s face as she sucked harshly on the nipple. Another gasp erupted from her mouth as Hermione’s free hand made it’s way up her thigh, almost instinctively zeroing in on her clit.

“Slow down…” Victoria moaned.

Hermione pulled slightly, making Victoria’s head swim as she saw the hunger, the desperation in the younger woman’s eyes. “I can’t…” She moaned, moving her hand slightly so her thumb was rubbing her clit and two fingers were pressing against her opening. “Please…”

Victoria stepped back, dropping to her knees and pushing Hermione back. She guessed that the younger woman was operating on a backlog of hormones. She pulled Hermione’s shorts down quickly, ripping off the plain underwear she was wearing underneath. “Let me take care of you first…” She said, pulling her thighs apart and beginning to bath the little bud she found there with her tongue.

Hermione gurgled, before letting out a soft scream as her orgasm washed over her. She’d never come this quickly before, not even when hyper-aroused and diddling herself. It shocked and shamed her that her mother could do this so well. She moved her hand, reaching up into the denim miniskirt that contained her prize.

Victoria moaned again as Hermione began to rub her quickly. It was as though Hermione needed to make her cum… not that she was complaining. She was equally as passionate as Harry was, and he could turn her into a puddle of goo quicker than anything she’d ever experienced.

“I… want more…” Hermione gurgled as another orgasm washed over her. “P-Please… let me… taste…”

Shuffling round, Victoria raised her leg, straddling Hermione’s head, before lowering herself down. Almost immediately, Hermione was sucking, nibbling and licking her clit, while her fingers poked, prodded and pushed into her entrance. A burning began in her belly, signalling her first orgasm of the afternoon. She cried out, the vibrations of her tongue setting off Hermione’s third.

After a moment of panting, Victoria lifted her head slightly. “I wish Harry was here as well…” She said softly, prompting Hermione to freeze. Victoria became a little concerned as Hermione started to vibrate before she screamed hoarsely into Victoria’s pussy, doubling her actions.

Victoria gurgled as she continued to work on the younger woman. “You’re so… so good…” She gasped, feeling another orgasm begin. Throughout it, Hermione never stopped her licking, prompting her to roll to one side, clamping her thighs shut as the sensations became almost overwhelming. To her shock, Hermione rolled with her, trying to continue her work.

“Slow down…” Victoria said, grabbing Hermione’s shoulders and hauling her up, kissing her passionately. Their juices mingled as they kissed, and again, Victoria was left breathless by how desperate Hermione seemed. Deciding to be a little more assertive, she grasped both Hermione’s wrists in one hand, before reaching down and resuming her diddling.

Hermione gasped into her mouth as she took in her position; her hands held firmly while she was being snogged and diddled by her mother. The thought (and delicious rubbing) prompted another orgasm, making her cry out.

“You cum so easily…” Victoria teased, leaning back slightly. “Take your top off…”

Hermione ripped her hands free, ripping the blouse she was wearing, before snapping the middle of her bra. Her nipples were like bullets, pointing proudly into the air. Hermione moaned as Victoria’s tongue began teasing lightly.

“Don’t… don’t tease…” Hermione moaned, reaching up and pulling her mother’s head closer. Her entire body was flushed with pure arousal, and her blood was pumping with the force of a sledgehammer.

“Easy…” Victoria mumbled onto the nipple.

“More…” Hermione groaned again, reaching up to maul the breasts just out of sight. “Please…”

Victoria began sucking harshly, moving her hand so that three of her fingers were penetrating the younger woman, while her thumb diddled her clit furiously. She reached round with her other hand, running her index finger over Hermione’s rosebud. She loved having hers teased, but hadn’t managed to get up the courage to let Harry back there.

Hermione began groaning harshly as the mother of all orgasms (and the wording wasn’t lost on her) began to form.

Victoria tilted her head slightly, pulling back just enough to mutter, “Harry wants us both… do you want to be together?”

Hermione screamed as a white haze washed over her eyes, her orgasm ripping through her like an explosion. She collapsed weakly onto her back, Victoria following her down and continuing her play.

“Yes…” She groaned as she passed out.

Watching the younger woman pass out, Victoria pulled her hands free, licking the juices off her fingers. “Okay…” She mused quietly. “One down, one to go… Just need to make sure that I’ve got all my ducks lined up in a row…”

Harry returned from his excursion, putting his shopping into the library. He’d managed to find a couple of old books that he knew Hermione and Victoria would enjoy, and he expected that they’d both be eager to read them.

“Ladies?” He called out, looking around for his housemates.

“I’m back here, Harry.” Victoria called from the kitchen. Harry ambled in, spotting Victoria sitting alone. “Hermione just had to… pop out for a while.” She said, clearing her throat.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, stepping closer to his lover and resting a hand on her back.

“I’m, er… Harry?”

“Hmm?”

Victoria cleared her throat again. “I… I have something I need to tell you.”

Harry looked up. “Oh? What’s up?” She seemed to be engrossed in playing with a piece of kitchen towel.

“I did something today that’ll either horrify you, or turn you on… I’m not sure which.”

“Okay, now I’m worried.” Harry said seriously.

“I made love to Hermione.”

Harry blinked. Then blinked again. It took almost a minute for him to say a simple “What?”

“I took Hermione out to the pool, had a chat with her, then stripped off.” Victoria said, still not looking up.

“I… why… Victoria, why would you do this?” Harry looked devastated. “After… we’ve been together… I thought…”

“I needed to know.” She whispered back.

“Know what?

“If it could work.”

“If what could work?” Harry slammed his hand on the table. “God damn it, you were the one worried about something happening with Hermione, and then you…” He trailed off, looking seriously pissed, before he took a few calming breaths. “Please explain. Please explain why you felt the need to cheat on me… I thought we were together. Properly together. As in ‘thinking about a family’ together.”

“I love you.” Victoria said seriously. “Never doubt that. I. Love. You.”

“Evidence would contradict that.” Harry said sharply.

“She loves you too, Harry. I can see it. And I can see that you care very deeply for her, too.”

“That doesn’t make a blind bit of difference.” Harry retorted angrily. “It doesn’t explain why-”

“I had to know,” Victoria interrupted, “if it’d work.”

“If what would work?” Harry roared.

“A trio.”

That shut Harry up. “Wha…”

“You love her. She loves you. I love you. I needed to know if I could love her in the same way I love you.”

Harry blinked as he translated the sentence in his head. “You needed to know if you could fall in love with Hermione?”

“Yeah.” Victoria took a deep breath. “Ever since she got here, I’ve felt this strange… I’m drawn to her. Almost as much as I was drawn to you in the beginning.”

“But…”

“She’s completely in love with you, Harry. And whenever you speak of your past, I get the impression that Hermione was the only bright spot in your life. That situation with the lads in the club last night make me think that she was part of an abusive relationship.”

Harry blinked. “Not exactly… but there were… factors involved, from what she told me.”

“I’m certainly attracted to her. You’re attracted to her. She’s attracted to you. Based on the way she was earlier, I certainly think she’s attracted to me…” She trailed off. “I… I had to know.”

Harry just sat in shock.

“And now… I know. I think that it could work. She’s been miserable since she got here, Harry, and that’s something we could help her with. We’re both pretty… willing to try new things when it comes to sex, and a third person-”

“Wait.” Harry held up his hand. “Just let me clarify… you shagged Hermione because you wanted to know if we could have a threesome?”

“No, not a threesome.” Victoria said quickly. “While a threesome would undoubtedly be fun, both of us would be wondering if the other one enjoyed themselves more with the third person. I’m proposing something more long-term. A trio relationship. All three equals.”

Harry just shrugged. “I…”

“Please… say something.” Victoria said, leaning a little closer, but not wanting to invade his personal space.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Harry said finally. “It’s… weird.”

“There’s nothing wrong with ‘weird’.” She replied. “‘Weird’ can be good.”

“And was it?” Harry blurted out, before he could engage his brain/mouth filter.

“Yes.” She admitted. “It was very good. It would have been better if you’d been there, too.”

“I…”

“Are you… upset with me?” She asked, pretty certain the answer was ‘yes’.

“I’m confused.” Harry admitted. “I don’t know why you’d do this behind my back. I mean… this came completely out of nowhere. I don’t understand why you’d just… suddenly have sex with someone else… why you’d have sex with my best female friend.”

“I’ve always been a little bi-curious… like I said, I feel drawn to her.” She took a chance. “And so are you. If you’re completely honest, you’d like to make love to her, too.”

Harry nodded, ashamed of his reaction. “But-”

“But nothing, stud.” Victoria said, and leaned a little closer, relieved when he didn’t move back. “I want her and you want her… why not have her?”

Harry glanced down, feeling the blood stirring lower down. Victoria followed his gaze, a small smile on her face. “Don’t feel bad, stud.” She said, reaching up and cupping his cheek gently, before leaning in to kiss him tenderly. He kissed her back.

“I… I feel so guilty for even thinking about this.” Harry whispered. “I thought you and I were… were going to start a family… you and me.”

“Don’t feel guilty, Harry. We can still have a family together… but it could be a slightly different family. Different can be good…” She smiled warmly at him. “It’s not… wrong, Harry. We could all be together.”

Harry sighed.

“Please…” Victoria said softly. “I’d like to watch you make love to her.”

Harry’s eyes shot open. “What?”

“I want to watch you make love to her. Then, I want to make love to her, tasting you inside her.” Victoria glanced down, watching her favourite part of Harry bobbing up and down. “Please, Harry… let’s have our cake and eat it, too.”

He swallowed nervously. “I… How would it work, Victoria? Polygamy isn’t legal.”

“Who cares?” She asked, leaning in and kissing him again, growling softly as his hands began to roam up and down her back. “Let’s do it, Harry…” She whispered coyly. “Let’s make her ours… imagine her writhing on top of you…”

She mewed as Harry’s hand instinctively worked its way up her leg, heading straight to her clit. She gasped as he began rubbing vigorously, clearly super-horny.

Slowly, she managed to reach over to the table, grabbing her mobile. She quickly dialled the number, holding the phone to her ear with a trembling hand.

“H-Hermione… where a-are you?

“I t-told him… because he’s p-playing with me…

“No, I think he likes… oh god… the idea…”

She stared at him. “She’s at the bottom of the drive. Should she come up?”

Harry leaned forward, kissing Victoria passionately, before he growled at the phone. “Get up here, Hermione.”

Victoria closed the phone and tossed it onto the table, wrapping an arm around his neck as he rubbed her ever-closer to an orgasm. The front door opened slowly, allowing Victoria enough time to kiss Harry, before climbing off his lap.

She rushed over to the entryway, grabbing hold of Hermione’s hand and pulling her into the dining room. To Harry’s shock and delight, Victoria kissed Hermione passionately, making the younger woman’s knees buckle slightly. She released her for a moment, taking hold of her hand and pulling her over to Harry’s chair.

Hermione looked at Harry with terror in her eyes. “Harry, I-”

She stopped as Harry raised his hand. “Victoria told me what you two did today. She said that it could work between the three of us. Is that something you want?”

Slowly, Hermione nodded.

“Is it something you truly want, Hermione?” He asked, his voice hard. “I couldn’t take it if you suddenly decided that you wanted something else. I’m in this for keeps…”

“I am, Harry.” She said firmly. “As soon as… things became clear, I wanted you. As I always had. Victoria…” She looked down at her mother. “Well, I didn’t expect it, but when it happened…”

Victoria blew her a kiss, before running her hands up and down Hermione’s legs. “Come on, stud… we both want her.”

Harry stood suddenly, leaning forward and kissing Hermione. She mewed as he kissed her passionately, which changed into a squeak as a hand reached up and began pulling her knickers down.

She glanced down, spotting Victoria on her knees, using one hand to remove Hermione’s underwear, while unzipping Harry’s pants with the other. She reached in to pull him out, making Hermione moan as her head swam with desire.

Harry moaned as a perfect pair of lips wrapped round his little head. This clearly wasn’t going to be ‘making love’, but a good, hard fuck. He moaned again as the hand released him, tearing at the button and hauling his trousers down.

Hermione moaned as the hand moved from her crotch. She glanced down to spot Harry’s tool bobbing in the air and gasped into his mouth. How the hell did that tool fit in people?

She found herself being pushed back towards the couch. She almost fell backwards, feeling her mother leaning close to lick her slightly. She moaned harshly as her orgasm began to burn in her stomach, only to groan as Victoria pulled away.

“She’s all ready for you, stud.” Victoria whispered sexily, pulling Harry down to his knees, then taking a gentle hold of his cock, guiding him to Hermione.

“Are you sure about this, Hermione?” Harry asked, leaning close. He smiled at her emphatic nod.

“Go ahead, stud…” Victoria said, releasing her hand. “I’ll watch for a bit.” She smiled coyly. “Fuck her brains out for me.”

Harry paused as his smaller head was pressing against a clearly-wet and aroused Hermione. She looked up at him and nodded pleadingly, rolling her hips slightly to get him to move.

In one smooth thrust, Harry pushed his entire length into her. Her back arched, making Harry concerned that he’d hurt her… until she began vibrating round him.

“She’s so orgasmic…” Victoria cooed from the couch next to them. “She was cumming like a freight train earlier…”

Harry growled as he began thrusting sharply, aiming to blow Hermione’s brains over the wall. Hermione began meeting his thrusts as best she could, reaching up to pull his head down for a kiss. They snogged passionately, before Hermione keened out in pleasure.

“Oh, god… you’re so good… please, Harry!”

Harry continued to thrust into her, reaching out to pull Victoria to him, kissing her just as passionately. Victoria reached out delicately to the join between Harry and Hermione, rubbing Hermione’s clit gently.

Hermione near-screamed as another orgasm washed over her. The pleasure she was feeling was washing away the shame she felt at her mother being the one to do it to her. Harry was rubbing her g-spot deliciously, while Victoria was diddling her clit perfectly. Let this never end… She prayed silently. She gasped as yet-another orgasm erupted, as she felt the curious sensation of female ejaculation as she squirted over Harry’s cock and her mother’s fingers.

Victoria reached round with her other hand, caressing Harry’s hard-as-rock butt cheeks, before reaching in between his legs and lightly stroking his testicles. She knew, from in-depth examination, that this drove him wild… as it did now. His tempo increased, making Hermione cry out as she came again. Harry was only seconds behind, slamming himself into her as he tensed.

He groaned harshly as he bottomed out in Hermione, holding himself still as he began to erupt inside her.

“Yes…” Victoria cooed in his ear. “Yes, cum inside her, stud… spray her insides for me…”

Harry groaned again as Hermione clamped down on him, holding him firmly in place as he spurted. He looked down at Victoria, who’s eyes were gleaming in anticipation. “When you pull out…” She whispered huskily, “I’m gonna clean her up… do me next?”

He nodded, slowly pulling out. Thanks to the joys of being nineteen, he hadn’t really gone soft, and Victoria wrapping her lips round his sensitive flesh, sucking him clean, served to get him back up to speed.

Hermione looked up at the sight of her mother sucking Harry, and moaned. “I…”

Victoria pulled back from Harry, pushing him back so she could get in front of Hermione. She glanced as the wet, messy crotch in front of her, looking oddly forward to cleaning her up. She smiled as she caught Hermione’s eyes. “You love him, sweetie. It’s okay; I do, too. And he loves us both… why not enjoy it?” She dropped down, running her tongue up Hermione’s slit, sucking up a drop of Harry’s cum.

Harry had never seen anything sexier in his life than watching Victoria eat his cum out of his best friend. With a growl, he sheathed himself inside Victoria, making her groan into Hermione’s pussy as he began pounding away.

It only took three minutes for Harry to feel his second orgasm approach. Judging by the rippling muscles inside Victoria, she was close as well.

Hermione was writhing and moaning on the couch, and Harry could see what Victoria meant about Hermione being ‘orgasmic’; it seemed like she’d been experiencing a never-ending orgasm throughout the entire encounter.

With a long, fluid moan, Harry came again, squirting inside his older lover, who also clenched around him. He pulled out, wincing as the warm air hit his over-stimulated cock. “That was fun…” He gasped, pulling himself onto the couch next to Hermione, kissing her tenderly.

To his shock, Hermione pulled back, pushing Victoria onto her back before she dropped to her knees, almost-savagely locking her lips onto the older woman’s pussy, sucking Harry’s seed out of her.

Harry couldn’t help himself, reaching down to rub Hermione’s butt-cheeks and reaching between her legs to rub her clit. Hermione’s only response was to suck harder and part her legs harder.

Victoria had to push Hermione away, leaning up to kiss her savagely. Hermione mewed in pleasure as she kissed her. Slowly, Victoria pulled back, before standing and pulling Hermione onto the couch, in between her and Harry. The three fell into an instinctive cuddle.

“So…” Victoria said, managing to get her breathing under control. “That was fun…”

“Yeah…” Harry said, snuggling closer.

“It was…” Hermione moaned.

Victoria looked sharply at Harry, who nodded. “Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“Stay with us.” She asked softly. “Be with us.”

“I…”

“You want to. I want you to. Harry wants you to. Let’s just be…”

Hermione looked at Harry, who nodded. “There’s… something…”

Victoria reached up, taking hold of Hermione’s chin. “‘Something’? What? Do you not want to stay with us?”

Hermione nodded.

“Then stay with us.” Victoria reached down, starting to rub a certain body part.

Hermione groaned, before parting her legs wider.

Two months later, Hermione stood at a cemetery in Crawley, England. In front of her was a small marble grave marker. It said simply; “Emma Granger; 1966-1998 – She became something greater”.

She’d been living with Harry and Victoria, sharing a bed and multiple screaming orgasms ever since. She’d seriously considered the possibility of restoring her mother’s memories, but had resisted. If she did, ‘Victoria’ would vanish, and she couldn’t do that to Harry… nor to herself, either. The relationship, as weird as it was, worked for the three of them.

She knew what she was doing was wrong… but she never revealed the truth.

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