FicWad

Their fight had been raging for several minutes now; the battle for Hogwarts, over an hour. Both he and Voldemort had been trading spells back and forth, and neither seemed to gain an advantage. It wasn’t until their fight gathered the attention of the other combatants, that things turned in ones favor; thankfully his. Death Eaters, Order Members, and DA members began taking shots at the two warring mages. Fortunately for Harry, all the fighting he’d been in, had groomed him for the chaos of random pot shooting, and he was able to either dodge or block many of the curses that came his way; along with some fancy spellcasting from some of his backup.

In the three years since he’d really gotten into the war, he’d been in numerous battles, and not once had he seen Voldemort in the fray; which was to the man‘s disadvantage. He was not accustomed to having random curses headed his way, whether from deflected friendly or enemy fire, and even with his great skill and power was wounded many times. In a fit of rage, the evil wizard cast a wide area curse that dropped numerous bodies from both sides.

Seeing his new wife fall to the curse sparked in Harry a pain he’d never felt before; it also sparked a rage he hadn’t felt since Snape killed Dumbledore. In a display of brutality, Harry began raining spells down on the older mage without letting up. A pair of Cutting Curses found a mark; hitting his wand arm at the wrist, and slashing across his collar bone. It was finally over, and both men knew it. That cut was in a spot that needed immediate medical attention, and there was no one still standing that had the skill to treat the wound.

Harry watched with apathy as the man gurgled on his on blood. Just as he was about to turn away, a flash of movement caught his attention. Before he could react, he saw the tip of Voldemort’s wand aimed at him from the man’s one good hand. It glowed green for a moment, and then the spell of death was speeding towards him. Harry knew he couldn’t dodge or conjure anything to block it in time, but he could get off one spell. Time seemed to slow as he brought his wand up, and loosed a overpowered Reductor. As time sped up, Harry felt himself lifted off the ground from the velocity and power of the Avada Kedavra. Just as his life was leaving his body, he was gifted to the sight of Voldemort’s head turning to a fine red mist.

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“Rest easy, my boy.” An aged voice said. “Your task is complete.” Albus Dumbledore turned to the omnipotent powers watching the scene along with him, his face a picture of humble askance.

“Permission...granted.” The three voices said all at once.

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Harry woke up in a bed not his own; this in itself was odd, seeing as he could distinctly remember being hit with a Killing Curse from a dying Voldemort. Harry sat up...or at least he tried to, before pain wracked his entire body. Collapsing onto the bed, Harry lay there for a few more minutes, before clumsily reaching for his glasses. He tried to sit again, and was grateful that the pain, and whatever had caused it, was gone. Taking a look around, he found himself in a room he didn’t recognize.

It was modestly large, but not ridiculously oversized. It was done surprisingly in the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, with some green, red, and yellow in odd places. Decently furnished, it held a full sized bed, which he was currently sitting in, a large wardrobe, a decent sized bookshelf, a night stand with a few drawers and a small lamp, and a few pictures of his parents. There were some with both his parents, and a couple with just one of them; though the ones of his mum looked older than the solo ones of his father for some reason. There was a desk and chair set, where he could see half done summer work strewn about, his school trunk sitting open at the side of it.

Harry stood, and immediately noticed that he was dressed much differently than he’d normally be. Where as he was used to sleeping in baggy night pants, and a tee shirt, he was in slightly loose fitting flannel pajamas. Getting up, he saw several quidditch posters- one of which took up quite a bit of space on the wall- but noticed that they weren’t posters of the Cannons. While he wasn’t really a fan of the Chudley squad, it was the only team he had any familiarity with.

Walking over, he was surprised to find that it was a life sized, and very life like poster of Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Looking at the other posters, he noticed that they were of the other members of the Harpies, and one of the entire team; apparently wherever he was, he was a fan.

A flash of movement brought his attention back to the poster of Gwenog, and what happened next brought a huge blush to his cheeks. The Gwenog in the poster, who was holding her broom in one hand and her Beater’s bat in the other, winked and blew him a kiss. This, however, wasn’t what illicited the blush, it was what she was doing to her broom.

She had the handle in a tight grip, and was stroking it up and down the broom’s stick in a rather lewd manner. It was when she swatted herself on the rear with her bat, that he noticed that the poster was autographed. He bent to read the message, one charmed so that only he could see it, and blushed at the insinuations within the message.

Even though we’re an all witch team, I’m sure we can make an exception for you if decide to be our manager. Me and the girls would love to have you along for the summer again soon.

A flash of memory had Harry turning redder than Weasley hair. He’d spent the summer before with his then girlfriend, Megan Jones, whose aunt just so happened to be the captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Since she was staying with her aunt for the summer because her mother had suddenly been called on Gringotts business, she got to tag along with the team; and since Harry had already made plans to stay with Megan for most of the summer, he'd been allowed along as well.

Amazing what getting caught snogging could lead to. He’d lost his virginity to the captain of the Holyhead Harpies (one would think Megan would be offended, but apparently she liked watching and wasn't ready to go that far yet), and spent some intimate time with each of the players on the team. Seeker Gladis Morgan, daughter of former captain Gwendolyn Morgan, had even offered to carry his child, and he hadn‘t even turned sixteen yet. While his relationship with Megan hadn’t lasted, they had parted on friendly terms. The Hufflepuff seemed to never miss a chance teasing him about that summer; and asking him when she’d get to watch Harry boff her aunt again.

XOXO The password for the posters is Harpy OXOX

Standing back up, Harry adopted a confused look on his face. What did she mean password for the posters? Shrugging, Harry decided to find out.

“Harpy.” He said. Right before his eyes, the pictures shimmered, and where there had been women in scenes of flight and quidditch play, there were now women in lingerie- or in the case of Gwenog nothing at all- doing very lewd things to their brooms and equipment.

The sudden departure of blood from his brain to his groin, nearly caused Harry to pass out. Quickly saying the password again, the posters returned to normal, or as normal as they’d get in one particular case. Harry did make a mental note to spend some time watching and enjoying the posters, and contemplating the merits of playing professional quidditch.

Looking around, his eyes fell on the unfinished schoolwork on his desk, as well as the other items nearby. On his desk was another photo, this one of five people, all of whom Harry recognized. The weird thing was who was in the photo, and what they were doing. In the photo, was himself sitting on a low stone wall, Luna sitting to his right, and Hermione to his left; both with crossed legs. Behind the two girls, were Neville Longbottom, and, to his grand shock, Draco Malfoy; Neville with his arm draped over Hermione‘s shoulders and Draco with his around Luna‘s waist. Since when had he been friends with Malfoy? Another flash of memory provided him with his answer.

Shortly after his defeat of Voldemort, luckily there were no Horcruxes in this world, there was an incident between Lucius and Narcissa, and she decided to strike back in the only way she could: she went to the authorities. She told them the truth about Lucius’ actions, and that no one could be Imperioused into taking the Dark Mark.

The mark had to be taken of ones own free will, and earned through the blood of another- Lucius through his murder of a muggleborn family- and she even implicated his participation in the Prewett murders, as well as being responsible for the death of Edgar Bones and family. She also named names, and was responsible for over a dozen of the undercover agents in the Ministry being removed. Draco in turn grew up without the influence of his father, and many of those like him, and turned out for the better.

Harry had been close to Neville since they were babies, and they’d met and befriended Hermione on the first train ride to Hogwarts. The trio had met Draco during the boat ride across the lake, and become fast friends when he and Hermione got into a debate about the purpose of the boat trip. Their subsequent debates about the importance of blood would actually fuel a lot of changes in the blond. He’d invited them to the manor that summer, and it had taken all three boys to literally drag Hermione from the library each day.

Luna had joined them when they’d found her being harassed by a familiar redhead, and intervened on her part. She was now dating Draco, who had let go most of his bigotry. While he still thought purebloods were better, he was willing to acknowledge that it was due to certain advantages from growing up in the magical world, and being aware of things that the Muggle born and raised didn’t have access to.

He was curious about not being friends with Ron, but given the history he knew between Ron and Hermione, and the fact that they’d stopped him from harassing Luna, it wasn’t so much a shock. In fact, they’d briefly been friends, but his being a friend of a Slytherin had strained that relationship, and him being outed as a parselmouth second year had killed any chance of continued friendship.

Harry was sad that he’d never gotten close to any of the Weasleys, but he’d been on good terms with the twins- even helping them start their business, with his half of the Tri-Wizard winnings. They were extremely ecstatic when Harry introduced them to two of the actual Marauders. He was also happy to note that Cedric had survived, and that he’d not had to deal with that death. Because there were no Horcruxes, there was no rebirth. Because there was no rebirth, the portkey dropped them outside the maze as it was meant to. On the aside, his taking Myrtle to the Yule Ball in protest of him having to compete was priceless (1).

That was the second time that had happened. He knew nothing of where he was, but given his memories, apparently he was in an alternate universe. Not only that, but every time he was confused about something, or more importantly asked a question, he’d get a set of memories that would clear things up. Deciding to take some time later to assimilate all of his memories of this life, Harry went about his normal morning ritual. Once he’d dressed, thankfully in clothes that actually fit him, he made his way down stairs. Given that he’d still had his scar, and that the mirror had had a go at him, he figured that Sirius had raised him; which was a definite step up from the Dursleys.

Heading down to the kitchen for breakfast, which he somehow knew where to go, Harry entered to find not Sirius, but something much more pleasing to the eye. Before him stood a sight that again sent his brain blood south. Poking out of the refrigerator was the most amazing ass he’d seen to date; okay, maybe the second. Gwenog Jones had an ass that should be banned in twenty countries. What made it even more enticing, was that it was clad only in a pair of slightly thin, snug pajama pants, and the panties underneath. Almost as if she knew he was there, the voice of the owner of the amazing posterior spoke.

“Breakfast is almost ready, luv.” The woman exits the fridge with a carton of juice in hand, and Harry gets a shock when he sees a head of deep auburn hair. When she turns and catches his gaze, he’s even more shocked to find eyes just like his. “Morning Harry, you were a little late getting started, I see.” She said smiling at him. Harry found himself captivated by the smile, and immediately knew what his father saw in her. He then got a lurch in his gut as he also remembered that he’d been ogling his mother’s ass just moments ago. “...come get you.” Harry shook his head.

“Huh?” Lily frowned.

“Weren’t you listening?” She asked. “I said, I thought I was going to have to come and get you.”

“Sorry mum, my mind was elsewhere.” Harry marveled at how easy it was to call her that. She gave a smirk in return, one he'd remembered seeing on his dad in Snape's Pensieve, and went back to the stove.

“Could it have been on my bum?” She asked cheekily. Harry blushed, giving her an asking look. “Oh please, as much as your father stared at it, I’ve developed a sixth sense about it.” Her eyes softened.

“As flattered as I am that this old thing can still get attention, and I understand that you’re at that age, you really shouldn’t be staring at me of all people. I’m sure there’s plenty of other girls who would love to have you staring at their posteriors. I happen to know that there’s a quidditch team full of slags who’d love your attention,” She frowned at this, causing Harry to blush again. “But I’d prefer you date someone your own age. What about that French girl you always write to.” A sudden slew of memories of his and Fleur’s friendship came, and caused him to scowl.

“Mum, Fleur and I are just friends.” He said, vowing to go back and review how that had happened.. “Geez, why does everyone think we’re secretly seeing each other?”

“Well, it’s just hard to believe that you’re ‘just friends’ with a girl of Veela descent.” She said. “Not that it’s a bad thing, speaks well of your character, but really. People are starting to wonder.” Harry could just feel the grin on her face as she said that; but as much as this world's Harry had heard it from Draco, he ignored it.

Rolling his eyes, Harry looked at the table, and noticed only two place settings. He was about to ask where his father was, until a new set of memories hit him. It was of his mother explaining to him what happened the night of the attack, and his father’s death at the hand’s of Voldemort. ‘Wait, that doesn’t make sense.’ Harry thought. ‘If his mother sacrificed herself for him, then how was she still alive?’ Another flash of memories, which Harry was now expecting, came to him form a different source.

Apparently this world's Voldemort was more aware of the old magics than his had been. He knew that sacrificing oneself to protect another out of love, was a powerful piece of magic, and killing the woman would effectively protect the baby. Instead, he stunned her, and banished her to the side, before going after the child. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as versed in old magic as he’d like to have been, but given the lack of information on the archaic techniques, one really couldn’t blame him.

As it would, intent played a humongous part in those magics. The mere fact that the mother was willing to give her life for her baby, triggered the very protections that he’d been trying to avoid, whether he killed her or not. Thus we have the most anti-climactic end to Lord Voldemort. Thankfully, this Voldemort wasn’t as obsessed with immortality as his was. He’d decided that the risk wasn't worth the reward of making them once he realized the huge sacrifices he’d be placing on himself. I mean really, sacrificing ones sex drive, what kind of psycho does that?

Harry never noticed his mother’s return to the table, or the solemn look that came across her face as she watched him stare at the spot where the missing place setting should be; the place his father should be. Lily came to her son’s side, and cupped his cheek, causing him to look up at her. Both had unshed tears in their eyes that were threatening to fall.

“It’s alright Harry, we all miss him.” She said, gently caressing his cheek, and wiping his tear filled eyes with her thumb.

“Sorry mum, it’s still kind of hard to know he’s gone, and how I never got to meet him.” Leaning down, Lily kissed his cheek. Harry was a little confused at the lingering kiss and caress, but thought nothing of it as he tucked into breakfast. The meal was silent, each with their own forlorn thoughts.

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The more time that Harry spent in this new world, and the more he learned about it, the more he noticed certain nuances; especially when he looked through his own memories. After nearly two months, he’d completely assimilated himself, and found how different this world and its people were. For one thing, while still pranksters, Sirius and Remus had grown up, and were actually on decent terms with Snape. It would seem that a life threatening episode can make anyone grow up. Apparently, Snape and Sirius ended up trapped and surrounded, and with no one to count on but each other. Also, unlike in his world, the Imperious excuse wasn’t taken, so many of the Death Eaters were in prison.

When Narcissa came forward, anyone who had claimed the Imperious was recalled to the Ministry. They were told they were there to try and remember anything that might help build their case against Lucius Malfoy- and given the penchant of many purebloods to try and one up each other, they were more than happy to put the arrogant man in his place. What they weren't prepared for, was being detained, dosed with Veritaserum, and made to confess their crimes. Getting rid of all of the hardcore Voldemort supporters in the Ministry, something that would take nearly two decades in his own world, had taken less than a year.

And speaking of Narcissa Malfoy, a flash of memories ran through his mind that made his face turn completely red. What made them even more interesting, and embarrassing, was that for the Harry he was taking over, it had happened less than two weeks ago while he'd been visiting Draco. He'd have certainly never pegged the woman to be so messy when she came.

The biggest thing he’d noticed, was that as much as she pretended, his mother wasn’t over his father’s death. It was small things at first, like spacing out, or staring at a picture for several minutes at a time. As he grew older, he began noticing the longing looks she sent his way even before he had arrived in this body. In the last year, she'd become overly affectionate, always hugging him, or kissing and caressing his cheek. More recently, he’d noticed that her kisses and caresses were lingering longer than was normal. Just the other day, she had almost kissed him on the lips. What was even more crazy, was that he doubted she even realized she was doing it.

Well, he’d be back at Hogwarts for his seventh year soon, so maybe he could find something in the library to help with the idea he had.

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It was now Christmas Holiday, and Harry was about to put his plan into action. It had taken some time, but he’d finally, with help from the gang, been able to come up with something. While it was a good plan in theory, he was still wondering if it would work. When he’d explained his final plan to everyone, they’d had mixed reactions. Neville and Hermione thought it was a sweet thing to do, and that he should go for it, even though Hermione doubted it would work.

Draco even thought it was a good idea, except for the fact that things always seemed to get weird around him. With that, the chances that it would backfire grew exponentially, and Draco had advised against it. It was Luna’s reaction that scared him though. She’d told him he should do it, and smiled at him as if she knew something. That really should have been a clue something bizzare was going to happen.

On another side note, it was interesting being friends with Draco Malfoy. He was actually a decent bloke once you got past the mild arrogance, though that had been toned down from what he remembered of the other ponce. A life without his father's influence definitely agreed with the young Slytherin.

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Staring in the mirror dressed in a pair of his father's robes pilfered from his old school trunk, Harry began making the final changes to his appearance. A simple charm, and Harry's jade eyes changed to hazel. Now he was ready to put his plan into action. Making his way down the stairs, he saw his mother in the kitchen, sitting at the table. With a flick of his wand, clouds began rolling into the room, pushed by a gentle wind. While strong enough to push the smoke about, it wasn't so strong as to dissipate it. With another flick, Harry produced a bright flash from within the clouds, and made his grand entrance.

“Hello, luv.” Harry said. Lily turned around, and seeing who it was, gasped. While the smoke and the light obscurred his features a bit, she could make out the form of what looked to be her dead husband. When he stepped forward, out of the masking clouds, Lily's heart nearly jumped into her throat.

“J-James?” Lily questioned. Nodding, the man said.

“Lily.” Lily looked at him oddly.

"How come you're so young?" She asked.

"Not quite sure, luv." Harry responded, thinking quickly. "But it's better than not being able to come, right." Without another word, she sprang from her chair, and into the man, wrapping her arms around him. Pulling her into a hug, Harry held her as she cried. She began muttering incoherently, but Harry was able to make out a few things.

“Thank goodness you’ve come back to me.” She sobbed. “I’ve missed you so much.” Harry felt his heart clinch, knowing what he was about to say would hurt her.

“Lily, I can’t stay.” He said, causing her to squeeze him tighter. “I’ve only come to deliver a message.” Pulling back, she gazed at his face through tear filled eyes.

“You’re leaving me?” She asked, sorrowfully.

“I wish I could stay, I really do, but I cannot.” Harry said. “I just wanted to say that even if I’m not with you physically, I’ll always be with you here.” Harry placed his hand over his mother’s heart.

“But I’m so alone without you.” Lily said, her tears drying up.

“You don’t have to be, luv.” Harry said. “You still have Sirius and Remus, and most of all, you still have Harry.”

“Harry,” Lily whispered. “I still have Harry.” Harry nodded, and turned to leave. “Wait!”

“Yes?” Harry questioned.

“One last time before you go.” Lily stated, earning a look of confusion from Harry. “Will you make love to me one last time before you leave me?”

The words were like a physical blow to the young wizard. This wasn’t something Harry had planned for, but he knew that if he denied her, it could crush her, and ruin everything he’d said to that point. Having made up his mind to do what ever it took, Harry steeled himself for what he was about to do. He knew that this was a line a man should never cross with his mother, but his mum’s happiness meant more to him than social taboo.

Pulling her close, Harry leaned down, and pressed his lips to his mother’s. Lily quickly deepened the kiss, rubbing her tongue along his lips. Harry slid his own out to meet hers, as he slowly backed her into the wall. The kiss was so intense that Lily missed the major difference in the way she was being kissed. Harry didn't know what was going on; it felt like his body was moving of its own accord, like he was being possessed.

Lily moaned, her mind processing nothing but the feel of her husband's lips on hers. She relaxed into the kiss, wrapping her arms around who she thought was James. Her mouth was being ravaged like it never had before, his tongue tasting every corner of her mouth. Harry's hand was fisted in her hair, trying to draw her in and deepen the kiss further. Her hands began to wander, eventually finding their way to Harry's bottom, and pulled him against her.

Harry let out a groan, and pressed back into her. Lily could feel her lover hardening against her, and pushed back to try and increase the friction he was causing as he rubbed against her. When her partner finally pulled back from the heated mouth plundering, she saw a feral gleam in his eyes that made her shiver with anticipation. The next instant, Lily let out a startled scream, as James tore her blouse open, sending buttons flying haphazardly in all directions. He then attacked her bare skin with a aggressive furiosity she'd never experienced before.

Harry devoured her flesh with his lips, licking and sucking as he descended to her bra covered breasts. Lily felt a flash of fire every placed his lips touched her. Neck. Throat. Collar bone. Shoulder. Chest. No place was spared in Harry's oral assault. All while Harry's lips and tongue were attacking her body, his hands were cupping her bra covered breasts. Lily's heavy breaths turned to pants, which turned to mewls of pleasure.

Annoyed at the fabric in his way, Harry's magic lashed out, and the bra vanished. When Harry's mouth finally captured his mum's puckered nipple, he sucked hard, causing her to cry out. Now Lily had had her nipples sucked before, James had done so the many times they'd made love. She'd experienced the infatuated stimulation of a teenaged boy (James) back in Hogwarts, and James' much more pleasing and experienced passionate attentions, but never had she experienced the animalistic lust that he was currently attacking her breasts with.

While this was going on, Harry brought his hand up to knead and caress her other breast, pinching and pulling at the nipple when it became hard. Finally pulling at it with his teeth, Harry switched to the other breast, handling the one his mouth vacated, and sucking vigorously on her other nipple. The combination of the teeth pull and going from warmth and wet to cool and wet, sent a tingle throughout her breast that pulled a groan from her. Harry licked, sucked, and nibbled his mother's breasts as if there were no tomorrow; because, technically there wasn't, not for this kind of relationship.

Even while having her mind blown with pleasure, Lily Potter was not one to remain idle. She began by filtering through her husband's robes, until she found the rather prominent bulge in his trousers. She gave it a couple rubs, before conceding that it wasn't enough; she wanted to feel it. Her hand slipped down the waistband of his pants and boxers, and gripped him tightly. As she caressed him, Lily couldn't help but marvel how much bigger her husband's cock seemed after more than a decade without.

Her other hand finally succeeded in joining the first, as it tore at the button on the slacks, and yanked the zipper down in short order. Taking a grip of his pants and boxers, she pulled them until they were halfway down his thighs; more than enough to completely free his turgid erection. As her breasts were devoured, Lily began slowly reacquainting herself with the amazing cock of the man she'd spent three years married to.

He moaned against her breast, and began to shudder. With one hand, she gently traced the underside of his cock, trying to follow the large vein there without seeing it. The other was concentrated at the tip, sliding back and forth over the sensitive slit. Breath ragged, she could feel him thrusting in tune with her strokes, while he pulled at her nipples with his teeth.

Feeling himself getting a little too close for comfort, Harry backed away from Lily's hand, and left her breasts unattended. Lily groaned at the sudden lack of nipple sucking, until he kissed her hard. His lips then retraced their steps, but instead of finding her nipples again, he made his way to the hollow between her breasts. His knees bent as he began kissing his way down.

As he knelt before her, Harry began placing open mouth kisses all around her torso, paying special attention to her belly button. All the while, his hands had slid under her knee length skirt, and began stroking up and down her thighs; moving farther up with each up stroke. Finally his hands reached her panty clad rear, and he began to knead the soft, round, cloth covered flesh.

After only a couple squeezes that made Lily moan, he slid his hands under the fabric, and frimly gripped the bare skin. Her flesh was heated with arousal, and Harry's head was beginning to swim from being so close to his mother's mind numbing scent. Finally he grabbed fabric, and began to pull down, ducking underneath her skirt.

If there was one thing that Harry could say, it was that his mother was delicious. The little bit of experience he'd had in his one month marriage to Ginny hadn't prepared him for the scent, the taste, the potent aroma that was a grown woman. Sure, he had the memories of a wild summer with the Hollyhead Harpies, but he didn't have the first hand experience.

Harry ran his tongue the entire length of his mother's swollen lips, savoring the juices that gathered on his tongue. He then began in earnest, using long, slow licks making sure not to miss a single spot. Near the top of her flower, Harry's tongue brushed over her small nub that pulled a loud moan and hard shiver from his mother. Harry paused to give a more solid lick to the spot, gaining an even stronger reaction. Finally, Harry just attacked her clitoris much the same way he'd done her nipples. As he licked and sucked (sometimes even a combo of the two), he inserted two fingers into her, and began to thrust steadily.

Lily gasped as James disappeared beneath her skirt, and her breath became heavy as he slid her panties down her legs. She tossed her head back the moment she felt her husband's tongue caress her folds. Her breath caught when his tongue caressed her the first time. She felt her body shiver when his tongue brushed her clit. She felt her knees weaken when he gave her a stronger lick. Her knees nearly buckled when he attacked her clit, and they finally caved when he added his fingers. The wanton moans and cries of pleasure came uncontrollably as her flower and clit were vigorously worked over.

It was decidedly different than she'd remember it being, and given the skill her husband possessed at making her scream in ecstasy with his tongue, this was something that she definitely remembered. But then again, the night that he'd been murdered, he had said he'd read up on some new tricks that he wanted to try. If these were those tricks, then she was definitely going to miss this. Lily was on cloud nine, and still rising. The things being done to her sensitive honey pot made it very difficult to remain standing, and it wasn't until she was coming down from a very strong climax that she realized her feet were no longer on the floor. Her legs were draped across his shoulders, and he was seemingly supporting her weight with his tongue.

It wasn't until Lily cried out, and spasmed for a second time that he realized what had happened. Giving her one final, all consuming lick, Harry rose, and pinned his mother between him and the wall; Lily responding by wrapping her legs around his waist. Harry lined himself up with his mother's saturated entrance, and pushed in just enough so that he couldn't possibly miss later.

He then captured her lips in another fiery kiss, while grasping the smooth, soft flesh of her buttocks to support her lithe frame. When she felt her lover's lips consume hers again, Lily could taste herself on his lips, tongue, and in his mouth. The heady taste and aroma of her excitement serving to arouse her even more. As Harry pushed into his mother's tight, wet orifice, she gently bit her liip, and let loose a grunt.

"Mmh, you're quite a bit bigger than I remember love." She said, holding onto him tightly as the tip entered her silky embrace. Harry internally winced, but recovered quickly.

"No more than our first time together." He said. "But then it has been over a decade for you." Lily blushed at that, and decided to just kiss him again instead of commenting. When the dueling tongues separated, it took only three words for the flurry of movement to begin.

"Fuck me...hard." Needing no other invitation, Harry shoved his entire length in at once. "Ah!"

The pace was hard and fast from the start; Harry not giving Lily's overextended twat time to adjust to his girth. With each stabbing thrust, Lily's overflowing pussy gushed out around Harry's cock. As Harry continued to slam his hips forward, he leaned down and capture one of his mother's exposed nipples in his mouth, and sucked like his life depended on it. The longer the coupling lasted, the more Harry seemed to get into it. With each passing minute, his thrusts seemed to pick up speed, strength, and depth in her silky folds. Little did he know, but he was touching her womb with every single deep, hard thrust.

Lily cried out as Harry pile-drove her into the wall, but she wasn't just taking it though. Even through the hard, strength sapping shots to the gut, Lily was throwing her hips right back, increasing the strength and depth of each stroke. With each slap of his thighs into her own, she squeezed him with her legs, using what leverage she had to pull him further deeper.

The sounds of Harry's loud slurps, wet skin slapping wet skin, and Lily's cries echoed throughout the house, creating a symphony of eroticism that could make anyone who heard it mess themselves. After a few minutes, it became too much for Lily, and she could no longer keep up her end of the motion. When Harry parted from her teat for air, she lay her head on his shoulder, and clutched him as tightly to her as she could; her eyes shut tight, and her hands fisted in his robes.

After nearly a half hour of being jackhammered into, Lily could feel her muscles tightening in preparation for a huge climax, that just didn't want to come. She didn't know how much longer she could hold out before she went crazy. She suddenly felt a jolt up her spine that told her the answer to that thought. At the same time, Harry's thrusts began picking up pace, and becoming more erratic. She nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she heard.

“Ugh, Lily, I‘m close.” It was almost as if that was the cue her body was waiting for.

“Oh God, James, I’m coming!” Lily yelled, as her orgasm rapidly cascaded down upon her. When her peak truly hit, Lily Potter tightened her hold around, who she thought was, her husband’s neck. Burying her face into his neck, she let loose a half grunt, half scream, as she descended into bliss. Her body shook with rapture, as waves of pleasure crashed upon her; her dam opening up and spilling onto Harry’s still thrusting hips.

The rippling and squeezing of his mother’s pussy proved to be too much for Harry, and with a couple more jerky thrusts, he fell over the edge as well. Harry groaned his mother’s name as a torrent of his seed flooded her already overflowing tunnel. Harry tightly gripped the flesh of his mother’s heart shaped ass, desperate for something to hold onto during the powerful release. Limbs already tense, Lily squeezed her arms and legs tighter, try to pull her lover as deep into her as she could when she felt his warm spunk splashing against her walls.

As Harry came down from his short trip to Heaven, he stared at his mother in shock. The woman was an absolute wildcat, no wonder Snape had hated, and been jealous of, his dad back home. With her arms and legs wrapped loosely around him, her skirt pulled up around her waist, her panties dangling off one ankle, her fiery mane wild from exertion, skin damp and glistening from the light sheen of cooling sweat; she had that freshly fucked look about her, and it only served to make her even more beautiful. Weak kneed at the strength of his climax, Harry slumped to his knees on the floor, his mother still straddling his waist. Their breathing came heavily, both panting from climax and exertion.

Lily trailed a line of kisses from his neck, up to his ear. She paused to nibble on it a second, gaining a twitch from his softening cock. She then continued on, kissing his cheek, along his jaw line, until she finally captured his lips in a loving kiss. When air became a necessity, she leaned back, and stared into the hazel eyes of...her son. Lily gasped, and fell backwards in realization. It was not her husband she had so willingly given herself to, but her son, her baby boy. Regardless of the strong resemblance, or their current color, she knew her son’s eyes; had known it from the first time she looked into his green orbs. A sob fell from her lips, followed by tears of grief and guilt.

Harry watched his mother stumble back away from him, and felt himself slip from her folds. His mother's stumble did very delightful things to her bare breasts; the bounce that resulted making his breath hitch. With her skirt still partially hiked up, his attention was drawn down to the beautiful flower that he’d just been sheathed so snugly inside of, he could see his leavings spilling from her.

Hearing a sound he knew well- having briefly dated serial sobber Cho Chang in his own world- Harry flashed his eyes to his mother’s face to see a look of growing horror dawning on her beautiful features. Taking her in, Harry could see the shame she felt at what she had done. Crawling over, Harry wrapped his arms around his mother, and just hugged her. Harry held his mother as they sat on the kitchen floor, her body shaking from the sobs. When she’d calmed down, he kissed her behind the ear.

“I’m sorry, mum, I only wanted to help.” Harry said, trying to soothe her. Lily let a small smile play across her face. It was just like her Harry to want to help; even going so far as pretending to be his father, and shagging her silly- at her request on the latter. Wanting to let him know it was all right, she leaned further into his embrace.

“Don’t apologize, love, you did help.” Lily said, starting to regain her composure. “I’d been grieving for so long, I’d forgotten what it was like to truly live.”

Turning to face him, Lily cupped his cheek, and pressed her lips softly to his. Looking into his hazel eyes, Lily frowned. Cupping both his cheeks, she ran her fingers under his glasses, and rubbed her fingers across his eyes, dispelling the glamour.

“There’s those beautiful emeralds of yours.” Lily smiled at him, before reaching for his glasses. When she pulled them off, everything went blurry. “I still can’t understand why you insist on wearing these silly glasses. Your eyesight has been perfect since you were eleven, and you‘re so much more handsome without them.”

Suddenly, Harry had a flash of a memory of his mother using a charm of her own creation (with Flitwick's help) to heal his eyes. Just as suddenly, his vision cleared, and he could see his mother smiling widely at him.

“Harry, I want you to make love to me again.”

“But the glamour...” He was interrupted by another kiss.

“Without the glamour.” She said. “I know I called out James’ name when I climaxed. I know that was probably your intention, and I admit that I had needed that, but this time is different. I want to see your eyes, to know that it’s you inside me, and I want it to be your name I call from now on.”

Nearly two hours later- the snail's pace allowing them to fully explore and learn each other's bodies- found Lily straddling, and grinding into, her son's lap, just on the cusp of another huge climax. The pair clutched tightly onto one another, faces buried into the necks of the one they embraced, kissing, licking, tasting sweat damp skin; wanting, needing the warmth provided by the bare skin contact of their lover. When Lily finally tipped over, it was her son's name that left her lips in a wail that echoed through the house. With a strangled cry of, "MUM!", Harry spilled into Lily for the second time that night.

As the pair came down from their mutual high, they clung to each other both for warmth, and comfort in the sweet afterglow. Harry let out a groan as he felt his mother's velvet grip gently squeeze him, trying to milk everything it could from his softening cock.

That night, Harry sleept in the master bedroom with his mother. When Lily awoke in the middle of the night, Harry held her as she calmed from a nightmare that had plagued her since her husband's death. What started as him holding her swiftly became kissing, and before long he was thrusting as deeply into her as he could get.

As he basked in the sweet bliss from another session, Harry stared down at his softly snoring mother- half draped over him, with her head on his chest. He didn't know where this relationship was headed. But for a boy who had grown up with no one, Harry knew that he would do everything in his power to help his mother. If that required a certain level of intimacy, then he would happily make love to her anytime she wanted to.

888

1. No plot to bring Voldemort back, but there were still supporters who felt it a good chance to get some revenge.

2. Sirius still wasn't aware of what happened during his Godson's summer with them. The only ones who know are Harry, Lily, the Harpies players, and Megan Jones. The only reason Lily knew, was because she caught him with the poster activated, and the patented 'Lily Glare of Doom' forced him to tell all. It was only his being age of consent, and the scandal that could have resulted, that kept her from pressing charges.