To The Victor goes Victoire

To The Victor goes Victoire

The last of the previous month's prompt and the most voted one. Enjoy.

“Mate, stop staring at them. It’s creepy.”

Harry jerked his head sideways, cursing himself for getting caught by Ron Weasley, of all people.

The retired head auror thought himself to be on his lonesome, thus not paying attention to his surroundings in the annual ministry Gala. But to be this absentminded…

A shining moment in his decades-long career of dark-wizard hunting.

Harry pushed the flute of firewhiskey resting in his idle hands to his lips as if not just caught red-handed, staring at a forbidden woman by his best mate.

“Huh… What’s up, Ron?”

“Don’t change the subject, Harry. I thought you would have gotten over her by now.”

The most decorated auror in the history of British ministry narrowed his eyes at the redhead, brows furrowed.

“What the Hell are you on about, Weasley?” Harry asked, the grip on the glass tightening in irritation.

“Mate, you have to get over my sister. It has been more than a decade and you are still pinning—”

What?

Harry jerked his head towards his earlier fascination. And sure enough, a familiar redhead twirled with her date just a few couples apart, oblivious to the stares she seemed to be generating.

Oh!

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Well, if the fool thought he was still pinning after Ginny, then he was an even bigger moron than his estimation. Especially after he had dated dozens of women after their divorce…

Though this provides me a wiggler…

“All right Ron, I was looking in her direction.” Harry Potter gulped the entire content of his flute before sighing, “You caught me.”

“Mate, you have to stop this! It’s not healthy.”

Ron’s loud shout dragged the nearby seated Macmillan lord’s attention toward them. And Harry couldn’t help but smile uncertainly in the bald old man’s direction, grimacing internally.

“Don’t you have to support Hermione’s ministerial campaign, Ron?” Harry gritted his teeth. “Maybe you should help your overwhelmed wife in garnering support…”

Ron’s shifty expression explained a lot.

“You are evading her, aren’t you? Maybe I should inform her—”

“Dammit Harry! You know I don’t like this politicking and stuff. Can’t you help your best mate out here?”

“Yeah, I am doing exactly that.”

“You jerk! You have become a pain in the arse after your retirement.”

“Hermione over he—”

“Fucking stop, you bastard! She will chew my head off.”

“You should have thought about the future hassles before marrying such an ambitious woman. Why do you think I never tried my luck with her?”

Ron rolled his eyes as if Harry had said something particularly funny. “As if she would have given your specky, scrawny ass the time of her day.”

Harry Potter usually liked to have the last word in an argument; his fame and high-ranking position in the auror department required him to use his words even more than his wand for the last decade. But the slouched gait of Ron shuffling toward his wife wearing a similar expression of a funeral march convinced him to let his red-haired friend have that consolation victory for just once.

The guy was going to suffer a lot, anyway.

Harry snorted—specky and scrawny! As if!

If he remained the same, then he might have been the one still tied to the famous quidditch superstar, Ginny Weasley, or what nowadays the press like to call her—the crimson cougar.

Even though the partygoers scandalously stared at Ginny and her partner from the corner of their eyes, Harry overlooked them with a practiced ease, desensitized by the repeated exposure to similar visuals. The guy led around by his ex-wife seemed particularly overwhelmed and, judging by his age, that was understandable.

He couldn’t be more than twenty by the looks of it. And the slim physique, the smaller-than-average height, and unruly black hair would have, should have, unnerved him. But it barely even fazed him this time.

Harry should have suspected something was fishy when Ginny complained loudly to her mother about him joining the gym after their marriage. Not only that, her adamant protests against his growing facial hair or losing his glasses even after his eyesight got perfect gradually, should have rung alarm bells.

As if she wanted him to remain the same naïve little boy who was afraid of even his own shadow.

But as his friends liked to joke about, unlike other human beings, his puberty didn’t start at thirteen but rather after the war; when all of their age group already had grown into their adult looks.

It was certainly a shock to see his wedding dress, made just a couple of months previous to the special day, showing inches of his ankles. His previous thin physique putting on muscle like his body was taking vengeance for not allowing it to bulk up previously. Where Harry was the shortest among the Weasley family just after finishing off the Dork lord, similar to Ginny—just a year later he was towering over every single one of them, shoulders broadening enough that even Charlie used to get nervous in his presence.

Harry was not complaining. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out the reason behind his sudden massive growth spurt just after the war. Voldemort’s tiny perversion of soul seemed to have an even greater adverse effect on his body than anyone’s previous guess. And with its removal…

But where the female witches fainted at his mere presence afterward, his married life took a sudden, unexpected nosedive. Harry had cursed Molly Weasley in his mind repeatedly for forcing Ginny and his marriage just after the war, prohibiting them to spend time alone with a zealous vigil without tying themselves in a knot.

And look how that turned out…

After six years of excruciating tolerance that his marriage had turned into, he finally forced the Weasleys to accept their separation, despite Mrs. Weasley’s vehement protests, even when his wife barely made any fuss about losing her lifelong dream of Lady Potter’s throne.

Though the reason became apparent when she showed up with her new paramours.

And even now, almost touching their forties, she seemed to have stuck to the same mold while choosing her lovers.

Harry should have worried about the mental state of his ex-wife and if any childhood trauma had made her like this, but he was too elated to get away from the redhead’s craziness, enjoying his newfound bachelor life to the fullest.

Thank Merlin, his young adult self’s mistake didn’t ruin his whole life.

A fully dressed auror striding among the swaying couples dragged his eyes. Harry squinted, trying to identify the male auror. A tiny smirk formed on his face as the middle-aged auror—Sigfried, if he was not mistaken, interrupted a young couple; whispering into the male’s ears urgently.

The current head auror and his close friend—very, very, close friend Susan Bones would have to be properly compensated for this perfect timing.

The smirk on his lips widened to epic proportions, the heated debate between the couple making the nearby couples scamper from the vicinity. Though the male seemed to have enough presence of mind to put a silencing charm around them. But the rising fury on his blond-haired partner almost made Harry sink into nostalgia, thinking about the similar arguments between him and Ginny…

Harry watched hawkishly as the male tried to mollify the furious blond futilely before shuffling out of the ballroom, the resigned expression evident even from this far, leaving an incensed young woman in his wake.

With a snap of his fingers, his glass was filled with a healthy dose of firewhiskey, before he stood up from his seat, loosening the kinks of his joints from the prolonged sitting.

Worry not, Teddy. I am going to look after your fiancée…

***

“Is this seat taken?”

“I don’t want any company. So fuck off…”

“I wonder if Fleur is aware of her darling daughter’s vocabulary?”

Harry barely stopped himself from bursting into laughter as the young blond woman almost jumped from her stool, yelping in alarm at hearing her mother’s name.

“Uncle Harry?”

“It seems like you don’t want to be bothered, so I will scamper off…” Harry had barely finished his sentence, turning around to vacate his presence.

“No! Wait…”

“Hmm…”

“Sorry. It’s just Teddy. And we just fought—”

Harry Potter took the seat beside the upset blond gleefully, giving her his full attention. “—like always. He doesn’t even seem to care about me, just running after criminals without care.”

“Unfortunately dear, with your impending marriage to an auror, that will be a very common occurrence in your life,” Harry said, slowly putting his hands on the woman’s shoulder. “Trust me, I would know.”

“Tonight was supposed to be special, Teddy promised…” Harry had to lean a bit to hear the murmuring.

Such proximity to Fleur’s eldest, unfortunately, presented him with the reasons that he had become so enamored with the young blond.

Even though he was not related to the Weasleys anymore, his invitations to join them at their gatherings never stopped. As such, he had seen all the Weasley kids grow up from little babies to their now adult or teenage selves.

And of course, his godson Teddy was excellent friends with all the kiddies.

The problems only arose when Bill and Fleur’s eldest daughter started blossoming into her breathtaking beauty, literally stunning him the few times he laid eyes on the teenager.

During that time, he was already the head auror. And taking advantage of his single and celebrity status, Harry dipped his trouser wand into every witches’ cauldron that he could. From just-Hogwarts-graduate to women even older than him. The relationship status of his partners never came into consideration, be they were in a relationship or already married.

His vaunted moral values were already blunted by that time, so he had no problem appreciating the beauty of a girl who could have been his daughter’s age. Not that he was blinded by her beauty or anything.

Fleur and Gabrielle possessed similar breath-stopping beauty as well. But one thing that truly separated Victoire was the addition of Prewett genes on top of her veela genes.

Veelas were generally built tall, lithe with their svelte, graceful physique, the envy of even swans. But for Victoire…

He certainly had never come across a veela of that proportion. Hell, he wasn’t even aware that veelas could have that kind of outrageously busty body.

Now, the young woman sat beside him with a navy blue robe, clung to that same otherworldly proportions. Little Harry strained inside his trousers, on the verge of gaining consciousness from the visual alone.

“I’m sure Teddy loves you more than anything, dear.” The hand that was rubbing over her shoulder tightened imperceptibly. “He just wants to prove himself. You know… to escape my shadow…”

“I doubt he loves me more than his job of being an auror.” Victoire Weasley grumbled, causing Harry to sigh tiredly.

“Forgive him, Victoire. He just doesn’t know how to show love. Poor guy.”

‘Sorry Teddy, managing a veela isn’t for everyone. Let me take her out of your hand before your heart gets irreparably broken.’

The Woes of a loving godfather…

***

“Victoire? Harry….?”

Victoire Weasley gave a relieved smile at the beautifully dressed woman; eyes lighting up as a way to get out of the present conundrum appeared in front of her.

“Aunt Hermione! Thank Morgana—”

“Is that my sweet little Hermy? Oh… looking ravishing there, girl. Wanna head back to my office and see my wandwork?”

Hermione Granger-Weasley blushed beet-red, whether because of anger or embarrassment that was unknown to the young blond girl.

“How much did he drink, Tory?”

“Non-stop, for more than an hour.”

“Well, Ron did say something …” Hermione worried her bottom lips, pale face still atomic red.

“Comm’n Mione. Let me inside that sweet hole like the old times.” Harry slurred, emerald eyes vacant.

“Aunty, what Uncle Harry’s saying—”

“Don’t listen to that Tory! He speaks rubbish while drunk.” Hermione said, eyes slowly scanning her surrounding in fear of anyone hearing their conversation.

“Victoire, please… Can you take Harry to the Grimmauld? Ron’s already fled to our home and I have to still attend to some foreign delegates.”

“Me?”

“Believe me. I wouldn’t have asked this of you if there was another way. I fear he might splinch his head off if left alone to apparate.”

“I—”

“I think he is suffering from heartbreak, you know. Seeing Ginny again…”

Victoire glanced at his drunk uncle, a grimace of regret forming on her pretty face. Even though he was managing his heartbreak, he still tried to console her rocky situation with Teddy. And never once she realized the grief he might be carrying in his heart.

No wonder he drank his ass off.

“All right Aunt Hermione. I will side-along apparate him to his home.”

“Oh! Thanks a lot, Tory.” Hermione smiled in her direction, before giving her a strange look. “And best of luck.”

What?

Before she could stop her brunette aunt, Hermione Granger stumbled away, giving Uncle Harry a pointed look.

Strange…

***

Harry Potter clung to Victoire’s curvy frame, his towering height dwarfing the small young blond. They stumbled on the front steps of Grimmauld place, with Victoire grimacing in discomfort, supporting the weight of the larger male.

“Hehe… nobody can beat me in a drinking game.” The black-haired former head auror slurred. “I can still whip the young ‘uns ass.”

Victoire rolled her eyes, already regretting her promise to Aunt Hermione. The responsibility saddled to her of escorting her drunk uncle seemed simple enough then but now…

That the greatest wizard of modern times, the famed head auror, vanquisher of the dark lords, was such a lightweight drinker was news to the young blond. But to be honest, she had never really seen him that drunk in the past.

She was too busy regaling her own problems with Teddy to focus on his uncle’s activity so by the time she truly took notice the Potter lord was already shit-faced.

“Careful uncle!”

“Whoo…”

Victoire blushed bright red when her uncle stumbled on the threshold of the ancient door, his right palm gripping her bulging chest to stop himself from planting face-first.

“Damn… Ginny… your boobies have grown so big…”

Victoire swatted her uncle’s hand, which was kneading her left breast over the silk of her robes.

“You… you pervert!”

“Huh?”

The young blond glared upward toward the tall grinning wizard, her face gaining color rapidly.

“Why Ginny? Don’t… hic… don’t you want to ride my broomstick anymore?”

And as if the night couldn’t turn any more bizarre for the young veela, her uncle took hold of her extended hand and put it right over his trouser-clad groin.

In her astonishment, Victoire’s palm lingered over the trouser for a long time, her blue eyes widening when something enormous and cylindrical thumped against her hand.

Is that…

Her hand defied her brain’s command of immediate retreat, slowly cupping the length. A breathless murmur of wonderment left her lips as she had to bend on her knees, her hands now groping just above her uncle’s knees.

‘I thought Teddy was the metamorphmagus?’ The young veela jerked backward, withdrawing her hand after realizing she was groping her drunk uncle.

Her monstrously hung, drunk uncle.

The young veela cursed herself for her moment of weakness. Another realization made her pulse racing.

Her uncle lives alone in the large house. Completely alone.

Damn you Teddy, for leaving me in this mess.

Victoire Weasley, with her heart thumping a mile a minute, lugged her suddenly amorous hunk of an uncle upstairs toward the master bedroom, slowly getting jealous of his past girlfriends as his lips and hands masterfully searched for every single inch of her naked skin to feast upon.

Opening the door of the bedroom, Victoire dragged the clinging figure of her uncle with rigorous effort, before shoving him on the bed, taking deep breaths in exertion.

“All right Uncle, now sleep your madness off.”

“Mmph…”

She was turning around to fled from the place when her uncle's struggling forced her to turn around. Victoire was flummoxed to see her uncle had tangled himself while trying to divest himself of his heavy robes, flopping his hands from inside the cloth.

Victoire’s eyes fell upon the now unobstructed trouser of his struggling uncle, the massive bulge still apparent to the whole world. The material stretched over the rotund cylinder, dragging the young blond’s eyes repeatedly toward the phenomena.

“Mmpph… Ginny help!”

Honestly…

Victoire hesitantly reached toward the struggling wizard’s direction, swallowing nervously as her heartbeat escalated without her permission.

Undoing the buttons and freeing her uncle up, Victoire Weasley stared at her undressed uncle. The undershirt covering his naked torso from her eyes stretched over the well-defined barrel chest. With a bit of effort, she pulled off the robe from his shoulder.

It should be illegal for a man that age to look this good.

Now dating a metamorph she shouldn’t be a stranger to the ripped physique of a male but the problem was that holding a morph required concentration and any kind of sexual excitement usually resulted in the loss of the changes and the return to their original form. And Teddy, unfortunately, had gotten the build of his werewolf father, who was similarly thin and lanky. Victoire would be lying that Teddy’s limitations during their dirty times hadn’t been very upsetting for her. Especially as she had dreams of so many perverted things that she wanted to try with her shape-shifting boyfriend.

“How do you sleep?” She murmured, hands now ghosting over the chiseled abdomens, biting her lips naughtily. “Clothing wise?”

“Don’t… don’t you remember Gin? You wanted me to sleep naked to have easy access.”

Why the hell were these two divorced again?

Her hands stalled over the belt buckle. Surely just looking once won’t be that bad? As Teddy was her first boyfriend, she hadn’t seen any other male naked.

But what would her family think? Her grandpa and granny, her uncles and aunts, her mother, father, and lastly, Harry’s ex-wife.

The most famous wizard lying there getting fondled by a nineteen-year-old busty healer apprentice wouldn’t look good, would it?

Victoire looked at the stupidly grinning face of her uncle. With his dark hair mussed up, those mesmerizing green eyes looking at her lustfully, not to mention his strong jaw and the short stubble that made him look ruggedly handsome, her teenage crush came back in full force, hitting her like a freight train.

As with every other young witch, she had also nursed a crush on her handsome, single uncle—playing with her tight teenage body at night, thinking about getting swept off her feet by the dashing older wizard.

With age that crush went away. Or so she thought.

Now just the two of them alone in the large bedroom, with none of her family any wiser not to mention the wizard himself drunk out of his mind sent her imagination into overdrive.

Yeah. There’s no harm in looking, really.

“Let me help you get undressed, Uncle Harry.”

She tugged at his pants after unbuckling his belt. After slipping off his dragon hide boots, she did so with little difficulty, and the trousers joined the robes and belt haphazardly in a pile at the foot of the bed.

Black boxers greeted her eyes. Toned arms on display, muscular legs in superb definition. Tanned skin, healthy and vibrant, attractive and mouthwatering. All before her. And Uncle Harry smiled at her goofily still thinking of her as his ex-wife.

She pressed her hands to his chest. Biting her lip, she savored the feeling of hard muscles. Pecs were obsessed over, set just below broad shoulders. Flat palms traced barely hidden abs, the thin material partially transparent and criminally thin.

“Arms up,” she ordered, holding all the power. The retired head auror, a man manifold times more powerful than her, obeyed, sitting up, raising his arms, and allowing her to slip the shirt over his head.

She settled in his lap. Hands gripping his shoulders, she fluttered her eyes at him. She wiggled her hips, generous buttocks pressing against the impressive bulge at the front of his boxers.

The man groaned. She smiled. A throb could be felt, then another, another…

Big. So very, very big. Huge, even. Scary huge. She had only seen one previously, but even she could guess that the thing throbbing underneath her ass was something truly special.

Oh! How she wished that Teddy was his biological son. At least, then her fiancée would also be this hung.

Not to mention similarly muscular.

She should cease the madness of grinding on her uncle’s lap immediately, but the veela blood that flowed through her veins rebelled against such a notion. Her ancestors’ desires for strong, magically powerful, and healthy mates reared its ugly head at the most unfortunate time, rooting her in the throne of a massive clothed boner.

Didn’t Teddy date a few girls in his fourth year? Then why should she just stick to him without getting a taste of a different male? A powerful, gorgeous elder male.

Her uncle Harry.

“Uncle…” she breathed huskily. She leaned forward and kissed him. Her first kiss with a different wizard. Alcohol was heavy on his breath and he didn’t respond at first, but to her, it was perfect in every way. “Oh, Uncle Harry!” she moaned, riding his crotch, pressing her big rear into his boxer-covered erection.

Alcohol greatly affected the man’s judgment. A sober Harry Potter would have shoved her away and derided her for daring to cross the limit of propriety. Victoire thought so, at least.

Unknown to her, a smirk formed on the wizard’s face before he responded with equal passion.

Harry Potter lamented the fact that he now had to take both Susan and Hermione for a long holiday, considering it was their plan that helped Harry get inside the young veela’s panties. The only problem was Susan was the head of the busiest department in the ministry, and Hermione was married to his best mate. Even though he drank enough to send a full-grown giant into a deep slumber but having a mixture of Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears in your blood turned out to flush the toxins from his blood faster that it can lull you into drunkenness, making him almost immune to any kind of alcohol. And only the closest female friends of his were aware of the fact. So, when Hermione being fed up with his discreet ogling of Fleur’s daughter in every Weasley gathering proposed the plan to lure the young blond into his home in the guise of help, Harry was decidedly skeptical. But he shouldn’t have doubted his long-time partner.

With a bit of help from the busty redhead Susan, their plan swimmingly came to fruition.

He almost snorted, remembering Hermione’s remark.

‘Come on, Harry, you just need to show her what’s inside your pants. She will do the rest.’

‘Really?’

‘If I could betray my wedding vows seeing that fat fucking cock, then I doubt a young veela could resist that.’

“Victoire, you naughty little minx!” Harry slurred, smirking as the suddenly alarmed veela almost tumbled out of his lap. “Taking advantage of your poor, drunk uncle.”

“Uncle… Uncle Harry! But… But you were just insensate—” Victoire gasped out.

“And you thought to take advantage of that?” Harry gripped the doughy ass cheeks of the blond to stop her from wriggling out of his lap. “A naughty little girl wanting to seduce the poor old me…”

Harry ground his throbbing length from her underneath. “Now that you have awoken the beast, you have to take your fucking responsibilities.”

Saying this, Harry Potter took hold of her golden blond tresses and mashed her lips against his, opening his mouth to taste the young veela’s peachy lips.

He was more experienced than her, Victoire quickly realized. Even drunk, the man’s tongue dominated their deep smooching, snaking past her pouty lips and settling comfortably in her mouth. Euphoria exploded across her senses as he kissed her back, responding to her actions wholeheartedly, and her heart felt ready to leap out of her chest. It almost felt like she was back in her teenage years, dragging her recently flowered body over her pillow, dreaming, imagining her hot uncle rubbing his large, rough hands against her nubile body.

Victoire blushed as he took hold of her expensive robe above her decolletage and dragged them down her heaving bosom, only the skimpy bra saving her modesty from his dark green eyes. “So beautiful.” Her uncle’s strong hands trailed lower. He seized her huge, bulging assmeat in his hands, and started groping them to his heart’s content.

Victoire, wanting his hands on her derriere proper, hopped from his lap to the floor and shed her robes in a hurry, plopping her heart-shaped, pale buttcheeks on his towering manmeat again. Both of them tumbled backward on the bed, with her soft, curvy body landing above his hard, muscled chest.

Her uncle’s hands returned to her butt. She shivered. Wide palms slapped at her lower cheeks, causing them to ripple, and heatedly pulled at her springy flesh. Fingers traced the crack of her delectable derriere, pulling them apart and exposing the thin piece of fabric comprising her panties. A skimpy article of underwear consisting of mere strings, worn for the visual treat for her now absent fiancee. It was a literal thong, and the insatiable older wizard’s fingers tugged teasingly at the thin string.

Not one to be outdone, Victoire shoved her dainty hands into his boxers. Her eyes widened. Impossibly thick, his erection pulsated powerfully in her grasp, hot enough to breathe life into a dragon’s egg and nearly roasted her palms on the spot. He bucked his hips upward, clearly enjoying her touch, and nearly bucked her off from the force of his movement. Growling against her lips, he rolled over, sending her to her back, and dominated her completely.

His bruising lips touched the nape of her neck. Teeth nibbled on her flesh, drawing a prolonged moan from her parted lips. She fisted the bird’s nest that crowns above her uncle’s sexy, masculine face, silently begging for more, rolling her childbearing hips against his pelvis. His hands promptly assaulted her bra-clad breasts. The black silk bulging outward due to her heavy breasts’ weight conformed against her uncle’s large, rough hands. The mauling of her protruding nipples hitched her breath, an electric current surging throughout her body at his rough touch.

Victoire delighted in his appreciation. Compared to his ex-wife, a decidedly gorgeous, athletically built, lithe redhead, Victoire’s body was curvy and busty, with her big butt standing out dramatically. She managed to hook her hands behind her back, unclasping her bra with practiced ease, and predictably her uncle felt the tension give away and did away with her pesky bra, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder and onto the floor.

Lips connected with her bosom. Trailing ardent kisses all over her bare breasts, the older man worshipped her bulging mammaries, warm tongue coiling around her attractively pink little nipples. Whimpering, Victoire tugged at his hair fitfully, melting under his ministrations.

Hands fondled her tits. Harry squeezed, groped, and worshipped them; as if they were the most perfect breasts in existence, which they probably were. His mouth was insatiable, lips covering every square inch with burning kisses, leaving behind a trail of saliva-coated flesh and gentle nibbles. Sealing around one of her erect tips, Harry applied rough suction, tongue swirling around the entrapped nub and making her shudder powerfully against him.

She was soaking wet. Victoire knew the front of her thong was drenched. Everything about him aroused her. He was skillful, leagues above her in terms of sexual prowess, and the young Weasley couldn’t help but think that Ginny Weasley might be the stupidest woman in the entire wizarding world to voluntarily sacrifice this kind of pleasure.

But the kisses and licks didn’t stop at her breasts. Oh, no. Her uncle wanted every bit of her. Her toned stomach was reverently admired, lips lovingly connected with the superficial fat layering of her abdomen. Wide, wet tongue pressed flat against her flesh, Harry Potter devoured her belly, teasing her belly button with heavy licks and titillating swirls. Hot saliva poured off his tongue, covering the entirety of her bare flesh as he wandered lower.

“P-Please…” she begged him, spreading her luscious thighs invitingly. “Don’t stop, Uncle Harry.”

“Dear girl, I have just started,” the powerful wizard groaned, lips moving lower.

He effortlessly brushed the flimsily clung throng aside, exposing her most intimate parts to his lustful, smoky gaze.

Completely shaven, pristine pink pussy petals greeted the powerful man’s very eyes. Young, shy folds quivered against his powerful gaze, as if aware of the fate that awaits them.

Some part of him, the long slumbering noble streak that formed the heart and soul of a noble young wizard’s character rebelled at his current action, it urged him to cease this vastly inappropriate, adulterous affair, but his lower aroused head easily prevailed, crushing the guilt that was blooming inside him at the thought of Teddy, his son in everything but blood.

He wanted Victoire. Wanted to possess the busty veela for years, holding himself from crossing that line by sheer will alone. But finally, the dam seemed to have broken, flooding his conscience with the unspeakable things he wanted to do with Fleur’s daughter.

Without preamble, he dove in tongue first, spearing his oral appendage into her tight depths, and ruthlessly assaulted her clit with his thumb. She was already wet, dripping with arousal, and he hungrily sampled her sweet nectar, inhaling the intoxicating scent of a young woman and treating his taste buds to tasty, sweet veela nectar.

“Harry!” Victoire shouted, tugging fitfully on his messy hair. Her legs angled, looping around his upper body, and she pulled his face flush against her gushing sex. Infinitely better than her dexterous fingers, his tongue brought her to euphoric peaks, probing her quivering insides with a fervor that left her toes curling. With merciless precision, his thumb, slickened by her abundant love juices, became a vibrating blur over her bundle of nerves, lavishing her stimulated clit and robbing her of all semblance of coherence.

Her thick, meaty thighs framed his handsome stubbled face. Uncontrollably, she bucked her hips into his mouth, demanding more of the pleasure he bestowed upon her. His tongue hooked upward, finding just the right spot, and she stopped for a moment, shuddered atop the bed, and came.

Her juices sprayed his handsome face. Her cheeks burned hotly when he loudly slurped up her nectar, planting his parted lips firmly around her gushing sex and swallowing every drop she offered. Her arousal flooded his tongue, serving as a veritable aphrodisiac to the already highly aroused man. His poor boxers looked ready to rip apart from the monstrous cock throbbing in its confines.

Scooting atop the bed, he pulled off his boxers. Victoire gasped.

It was bigger than she initially believed— a huge, towering specimen, especially mere inches from her face

It was honestly frightening. It pulsated intensely, possessing girth comparable to that of a thick butterbeer can and carrying length so impressive and unreal the fat tip of the monstrous meat dipped underneath the heavyweight, as if unable to carry its own weight. A massive pair of testicles dangled low, plump, and undoubtedly filled to the brim with virile, powerful semen and swayed intimidatingly between his legs.

Aunt Ginny took this daily for so many years… Victoire’s earlier uncharitable thoughts regarding the redhead quickly took an upward journey. It seemed she just wasn’t woman enough to handle the beast regularly.

Thick fingers buried themselves in her hair, tearing her away from her gawking. Looking up at him with sky-blue eyes like the clear Mediterranean sea, Victoire Weasley was the epitome of human perfection, irresistible for the Potter lord.

“Suck,” he commanded, pressing his fat helmet to her pouty lips.

Immediately, she was assaulted with a powerfully masculine scent. Far from unpleasant, it dominated her senses, filling her nostrils with musk that took her breath away. He was largely devoid of pubic hair, for which she was grateful, sporting managed coarse hairs around the base of the beastly cock. His sack lacked any springy hairs. He kept himself well-groomed down there, indicative of a healthy sex life.

“Whatever you wish, Uncle Harry.” Opening her mouth, she tentatively extended her tongue and gave the wide bulbous tip a sensual lick. The taste of bitter pre-cum tickled her taste buds, causing the blond-haired girl to shiver. Shaky hands gripped the base. She marveled at how tiny her feminine hands appeared as they tried to fully grasp his girth. Enormous veins littered the unrivaled manhood. She could feel them beneath her touch, pulsing and fueling the beast with lust and blood, and admired their notably bumpy indents with inquisitive fingers.

“Soft,” he groaned, enjoying her hands. “Very soft. Like fucking silk.”

She delighted in providing him pleasure and managed to engulf a fair portion of his tip between her supple lips. The tip alone proved wider than she initially believed, large enough to create a struggle. Remembering the adult magazines that she had watched in her Hogwarts days, she utilized her tongue to make up for her lack of depth and vigorously attacked the engorged glans quivering in her mouth with her nimble oral appendage.

The sweat and grime on his cock after a long day tasted glorious. Strong, primal, it thrilled her, quickly pooling arousal at her already damp pussy. Eyes widening, she released a moan around the thick tip, generating pleasurable vibrations which struck his cock straight to its core when he used his free hand to shove a thick finger into her sopping entrance. The hand buried in her hair urged her forward. Another girthy inch was speared into her hot mouth.

“You didn’t think it will be that easy to earn my cum, did you?” His thumb tended to her clit, turning her legs to jelly. He chuckled. “Until you make me cum with your mouth, I won’t stop.”

A second finger slipped into her tight insides. Gasping around his meat, she came, spraying his palm with her slick arousal. Bucking her hips, riding the tidal wave of pleasure, and humping his hand, she blushed embarrassingly. The handsome wizard smirked. “Naughty little witches like you who cum just from sucking my dick need to be punished, don’t you think so. My sweet little Victoire?”

Trembling hands worked over his shaft. Still, in orgasmic bliss, Victoire wanted her favorite uncle to experience his release. She sucked, licked, and caressed affectionately his captured meat, managing to snag another two inches into her mouth before she had difficulty breathing. Her velvet-like mouth serviced only a fraction of the impressive cock, but she made up for it with her dexterously small hands.

“Naughty girl. You and this sexy body of yours. I’m old enough to be your father, you know?” Harry rubbed his fingers over her soft blond curls. “If I had not married Ginny, then surely I would have gone for your mother’s pussy. What do you think? Would you have still wanted Daddy’s donkey dick?”

The dirty talk turned her on something fierce. She was shameless, wasn’t she? Sucking the cock of her Aunt Ginny’s ex-husband and her parent’s friend and, more importantly, Teddy’s godfather.

“You have such a nice fat ass. I used to have the biggest crush on your mom when we were younger. But you look so much better than her at that age. Way better, not to mention your enormous round perfect tities.” His wonderful fingers pumped in and out of her dripping snatch. “She was still a girl when I first saw her. You on the other hand are undoubtedly a woman. Beautiful, hot, sexy woman.”

Her heart threatened to burst. His admittance that she looked better than her mom, who was considered the most beautiful witch in the entire wizarding Britain, swelled her heart. She was blushing like a virgin schoolgirl under his praise and redoubled her efforts to bring him the best pleasure possible.

“For the last few years, I’ve thought about dragging you to the Weasley orchard and fucking you senseless there,” he admitted. “I know it’s wrong, but I can’t control my fantasies. Ah, fuck. Your tongue feels so good!” The older wizard growled. The pace of his fingers increased. She couldn’t hold out for much longer. A press of her clit spelled the end of her willpower, and she came rivulets against her uncle’s masterful touch.

Her face couldn’t possibly get any redder.

‘Cum!’ She begged, frantically licking and sucking. Her hands were a blur, aided by the copious amounts of her spit coating his shaft. ‘Cum! I want to taste your powerful virile seed! Give me a fucking taste!’

She needed to make him cum soon.  She poured everything she could into servicing him, trying to wring the load right out of him. Lips stretched, tongue crazed, and pale cheeks marked by a seemingly permanent blush, Victoire felt the throbbing intensify. His cock shuddered in her mouth, pulsating once, twice, and then…

“Oh, baby,” Harry whispered, gripping her hair roughly. “I’m cumming, Victoire. Swallow every drop of your uncle’s cum.”

“Hmm-mhhm!” She cheered, eagerly awaiting his release.

The first shot was unimaginably thick. Sticky, pure white cum rocketed into her mouth, colliding with the back of her throat and descending to her belly. Ropes accompanied the initial blast. Long and potent, his load was on pace to quickly overwhelm her, seemingly endless as he deposited his spunk into her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, but her amateurish experience left her outmatched. Unprepared, she tore herself away from the erupting tip, coughed, and panted heavily. His release wasn’t over. Shots landed on her lips, nose, and cheeks, with a long strand sticking to the golden tresses of her. Every powerful throb was followed by another glob, and she looked like a slutty mess by the time the most powerful wizard of the era was finished.

She was painted properly, marked heavily by his seed. The smell of cum was thick in the air.

Limbs weak, she leaned on him. Tenderly, she kissed his pelvis. Nuzzling the base of his dick, she planted featherlight kisses all over his shaft, sticking out her tongue to coil around his massive sack. He was still hard as steel, much to her shock, undaunted by the large orgasm she brought him to mere moments ago.

Fingers cupped her chin. Blinking wearily, she looked up at him in a manner akin to pure worship, the sky blue of her iris looking worshipfully at his bright emerald.

He was smiling at her and she basked under his warm stare.

“You look so beautiful with my cum all over your face, Victoire,” he told her lovingly. “You did a good job, but it’s time for the main event. Time to stretch that perfect pink veela pussy around my dick.”

“Morgana! I am so ready for it.” she sighed, allowing the man to place her on her back. He towered over her, planting his arms at her side. A loving position: the intimate missionary. He was going to reshape her pussy in the lover’s embrace.

He kissed her, uncaring of his brand staining her lips, of the bitter taste clinging to her tongue. Clinging to him, she poured all her needy fucklust into the passionate lip lock, locking her arms around his broad chest, and folding her legs across his firm buttocks. Her favorite uncle figure held her reverently, lust rolling off him in palpable waves, and positioned his fat tip at her entrance.

He was slick with her spit, and she was well-lubricated from the deluge of femcum that she secreted, but when he surged his hips forward and stretched her insides far greater than she could fathom, Victoire gasped in pain and dug her nails into his back.

“Tight,” he grunted, nibbling on her bottom lip. “So tight. Don’t worry, Victoire. The pain won’t last long.”

She felt the warmth of his spasming dick spread across her core. It was maddening. Her entire body ached to be split apart, to be torn apart in the waves of pleasure that her uncle’s behemoth can produce.

More meat parted her folds. Thick, so very thick, girth stretched her, with a wide tip spearheading the charge. Victoire cursed in her mind. He was too big. Too huge for her inexperienced pussy. Thankfully, every inch dragging along her tight insides brought about random jolts of stabbing pleasure. Mind-numbing, orgasmic shudders tore through her. She gasped and moaned, producing a slew of embarrassing noises only reserved for her hung lover, and encouraged him to continue plundering her previously virginal tight depths by pushing him forward with her shapely legs. The heels of her feet dug into his back, and after a minute of her encouraged pushing he slowly reached the maximum of her depths.

Her eyes widened. Her…cervix? He had reached her cervix. Glancing between their intertwined bodies, she marveled at the fact a good portion of his dick remained free of her quivering snatch. Her toned belly showed a prominent, very noticeable tubular indentation. Was that…?

“Oh fuck! Fucking Morgana! Soo big! Soo good,” Victoire mumbled in disbelief. She felt so full. Her pussy, struggling to accommodate his size, tensed and shuddered, making sense of the impossibly large intrusion which had wrecked her tight tunnel which previously only had seen her fiancee’s average endowment. She felt every shake of his heavy cock, every pulsation which powered the beast.

The overwhelming stretching of her pussy forcefully tugged and pulled at her overly sensitive nerve bundles and she promptly came all over his cock.

“T-Tight!” Harry Potter hissed, throwing his head back and bucking his hips. “Are you trying to make me blow my load already, Victoire? I can barely move.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “But it’s so good…”

It was embarrassing to admit it, but the evidence was there. He just put it in, and she already came.

“I think it’s adorable. Sexy.” He kissed her neck. His hands fondled her tits, brushing his thumbs over her erect tips. They were overflowing in his large hands. Harry squeezed them roughly, jiggling them all over the place. “My sexy little veela.”

“Uncle Harry…” She smiled, holding him close. She felt complete. She craned her neck, allowing him to methodically nibble and suck on her youthful flesh. He allowed her pussy ample time to grow accustomed to his size, distracting her with tender fondles of her perky tits. Her neck would be littered with love bites later, proof of his ownership of her, but that made it all the more invigorating. She cooed and gasped, playing with his soft hair, loving his treatment of her body with each passing second.

She was ready. Finally.

He pulled back, leaving only the tip buried snug between her slick folds. The depressing ache of emptiness soon followed, nearly breaking her heart, but all was forgotten when he used his firm hold on her bouncing tits and slammed back into her gushing womanhood.

The heavens exploded. A million supernovas happened before her blown-open eyes. The massive shockwave of his thrust stole her breath, left her gasping for air, and her limbs promptly went limp as the biggest cock in all the existence ruined her young teenage depths.

“Your pussy’s the best,” he murmured affectionately, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “No women’s cunt even came close. Merlin, I am going to get addicted to your little kitty.”

Victoire was new, young, and breathtakingly tight. Well, tight for him. After tonight, he doubted another man would find pleasure in her ruined folds.

The former auror was relentless. Every thrust was earth-shattering. Her hands returned to his back, gripping him harshly and drawing blood with her nails as the older man ravaged her. Hot tongue on her neck, and large hands palming her jiggling tits, Harry dominated her entirely, producing a savage pace of his thick shaft plunging deep into her tight folds. Hips blurred. The bed protested from the intense rocking. The positively lewd sound of her dripping wet snatch being stuffed by his slickened meat bounced off the walls and back to their eardrums, basking them in a cacophony of sinful noises which blended perfectly with the slew of breathless moans which erupted from the young Weasley’s lips. Massive balls swayed back and forth with every thrust, big enough to give the swell of her prominent buttocks a hearty slap.

No pain existed. For Victoire, only decadent pleasure gripped her. Everything: his hands, lips, tongue, cock. All worked in tandem to bring her to new euphoric heights. Girth-blessed meat dug into her inner walls, hugged obsessively by her clinging folds whenever he retracted his hips for another harsh thrust. Ecstasy ruled her senses.

“Harryyy!” She moaned, rolling her wide hips, bucking into him to meet his powerful thrusts. “Fuck me! Make me yours fucking veela slut!”

Her orgasm exploded. Snug insides became nearly unbearably tight. The powerful wizard gritted his teeth. Nubile folds desperately tried to milk him, to coax the seed out of him, but Harry held strong.

He kissed her. Tongues bashed, spit swapped lovingly, and the young veela was pleasantly surprised to find the taste and scent of alcohol had vanished from her lover’s breath. His hands briefly left her breasts, allowing her perky orbs to mash wondrously into his solid chest, erect nipples titillated by the hard muscles they grazed. Fingers teased the impressive flare of her hips, noting their childbearing capacity and sending Harry Potter’s mind into a frenzy. Primal instinct inflamed his lust.

Growling against her lips, he pulled out of her quivering snatch, fell to his side, and pulled the blond’s fat ass into his crotch. Plump cheeks mashed into his pelvis, Victoire glanced over her shoulder with half-lidded, curious eyes, panting breathlessly and more than a little disappointed at the suddenly empty feeling gracing her gaping pussy. The spooning was nice, but she wanted more of his dick, which was ferociously shoved between her ample cheeks. Thick cock meat fucked her ass crack, with his girth gliding along her puckered hole, with only the measly string of her torn thong protecting it from his massive prick. She shivered, finding the sensation strangely erotic, and wiggled her big ass into his crotch.

“Time to fill me up, Uncle Harry. Pump me full of your cum.” She blushed lightly. “T-Turn me into your personal cumdump.”

Cock throbbing at the sight of her enticing ass, the powerful wizard saddled behind her. With little effort, he tore the remnants of her thong off, leaving her entirely divested of her clothing. Rubbing his cock between her ass cheeks, he relished the fat cheeks engulfing his girth for a brief moment. He squeezed each cheek, marveling at the youthful springiness of her perky ass, showing not one hint of sag. Only brilliantly soft, pliable to his touch, and rippling from every slap and shake he gave it.

“As you wish, Victoire.” He placed his lower head at her entrance and plunged back into her coiling depths. “Here’s the cock you love so much!”

Smiling deliriously, lips parted and drool escaping the corner of her mouth, Victoire moaned happily and squirted all over his dick. From initial contact alone, she came like a slut, eyes flashing intensely from the surge of nirvana flooding her system. Thick meat stretched her insides, once more bestowing upon her a feeling of completeness. Her limbs nearly gave out from the shockwave of pleasure, but she held strong.

And then the man began pounding away.

“S-So big~!” Victoire screamed, throwing her head back as her uncle’s unrivaled cock plundered her depths. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest. The intensity of their coupling made her gasp, shudder and see stars, and she could do little but push her fat ass backward in a frantic attempt to actively participate in their lovemaking. Her long lustrous blond hair danced around her pretty face, wild and unkempt, and her plump buttocks rippled deliciously from every collision with his pelvis. “Your cock’s so big. The best!”

“You like my big cock in your pussy?” The older man grunted, palming her ass cheeks and watching them bounce. He pummeled her folds without pause, obsessed with the velvet-like, slick tightness of her inner walls, and Harry couldn’t remember the last time he had been so turned on during sex. The young witch was so hooked and drunk on his dick, every ten or so thrusts caused her to squirt more of her love juices. Victoire was a very heavy squirter, something which only served to fuel the lust burning in his loins. Yet the unbelievable slickness, the sopping wet quality of her constantly gushing pussy, didn’t detract from the toe-curling tightness, the sweet clinging sensation of nubile walls hugging every inch of his cock.

“I love your gigantic cock!” She affirmed, hearts practically glowing in her aquamarine orbs. “I love it! I love you! I love you, my big-dicked uncle.”

The young veela’s shameless acceptance of the debauchery stirred his loins and with a primal roar, he gave her a harsh thrust, making her temporarily blackout, and felt flesh cannon buck.

“I’m cumming, Victoire! Take it all! Take every drop of my cum!”

Victoire’s eyes rolled back into her skull. Bashed against her abused cervix, his swollen tip shot thick ropes of semen straight into her womb. Two ropes, three, four, five…

She lost track. Molten hot cum filled every nook and cranny of her womb, eventually spreading to her stuffed folds. Gasping, her entire body shuddered, goosebumps gracing her pale flesh as she spasmed. The most powerful orgasm of the evening ravaged her body, generated by the ungodly amounts of virile semen painting her insides white.

She was being bred. Unprotected, raw sex. It was not a safe day for Victoire. She took no contraceptives. There was a very real, high possibility of her getting knocked up by Teddy’s godfather.

The thought actually made her womb churn.

Orgasm subsiding, Harry sighed contently. Patting her rear fondly, squeezing her lovely lower cheeks, he pulled out of her slowly. His swollen tip escaped from her clinging, abused folds with a wet ‘pop!’ and a river of his seed surged from her marked depths.

“Ahhh, best pussy ever!” He exclaimed, grinning ear-to-ear.

After he pulled out, the busty blond collapsed to the bed. Breathing heavily, ravaged by numerous orgasms, she was an erotic sight of flushed cheeks, blue seductive eyes half-lidded, and messy blond hair clinging to her sweaty forehead. Her fat ass remained raised, twitching slightly from the aftershock of rapturous pleasure plaguing her body, and he received an excellent view of a near-limitless reserve of his sticky cum pouring from her gaping folds.

“What’s going on?”

The door to the master bedroom opened.

Emerald eyes widened, Harry glanced up. ‘What! How did he come back so soon?’

“Oh…umm, Teddy? You see—” He chuckled nervously. “This is awkward, huh?”

Standing in the doorway, Theodore Lupin, slack-jawed, beheld the nightmarish sight before him.

“I…I got home early and searched for her, Aunt Ginny at the Burrow said—” he said weakly. His eyes focused on the gaping, cum-dripping snatch laid atop the bed, framed by luscious thighs and topped by a plump butt.

Victoire, releasing her lover’s cock, sat up and glanced over her shoulder at the new arrival, giving Teddy a prime view of her cum-covered face.

“Hey, Teddy!” She greeted. Cock-drunk and bubbling with lust, she thought little of his betrayed, hurt expression. “Sorry, I can’t talk right now. As you can see I have traded you for something better.”

“V-Victoire?”

Harry sighed.

“Look, son…”

“With my Godfather?” He whimpered, heart-shattering. His love, fiancée, and future wife… and his own godfather?

This had to be a bad dream.

Thud!

Too late. The young upcoming auror fainted, not being able to digest the fiendish nightmare of getting cucked.

“He was supposed to be away for a long time,” Harry muttered, scratching his head.