The story is now completely written. I'll post the last three chapters over the next week or two, spread out with a few days between them.
When Fleur Delacour was grabbed and pulled around a corner leaving her charms lesson, she contemplated whether she would need her best castration hex. But it turned out to be a woman holding her against the wall.
A shorter woman with bright, fiery red hair who stood a whole head shorter than Fleur. She recognized the youngest Weasley as one of the women remotely in Harry's orbit, at least as a fellow Gryffindor and the sister to his friend. Harry didn't seem to give this girl the time of day, from what Fleur had seen, which might be why Ginny growled, "Show me how!"
"How to do what?" Fleur asked, subtly lowering her wand, which had been pointed at Ginny's lower stomach. "You will have to be more specific."
"You know what. He's all over you!" Ginny said, her voice strangled. "I know from how Lavender is strutting around that he's gotten her, too. Even Hermione looks like that now! But he won't touch me…"
When she began, Ginny was fixing Fleur with a fierce look, but by the end her posture had wilted, her head turning toward the floor. She sniffed, fighting tears.
Fleur put a finger under her chin, lifting Ginny's face. "Look at moi."
Ginny did so, the corners of her eyes glittering.
"You want Harry Potter, non?"
"More than anyone," Ginny hissed.
"I will ignore that false claim, for I like your spirit," Fleur said. "The question, Ginnerva, is what you are willing to do to get him."
"Anything."
Fleur's smile bordered on treacherous. She carefully touched Ginny's wrists, removing the girl's hands from her body, pushing her to stand up straight.
"Yes… I can work with you," Fleur purred.
O-O-O
It was late morning, nearly lunch time, before Harry tracked down Blaise Zabini.
Blaise was a hard boy to find. Draco Malfoy? He was always roaming the halls looking for students from other houses to bully or younger girls to hit on, until now when his fortune had been eroded and he lurked in the Slytherin common room. Pansy Parkinson? She would be surrounded by other pureblooded girls in a spot with high visibility, allowing them to glimpse and gossip about anyone who walked past. But Blaise? He was unpredictable.
That trait extended to his entire family, which was really just one witch. Sofia Zabini was the world's most eligible bachelorette… as long as you didn't mind dying within six months of the honeymoon.
Frankly, with an ass like hers, many wizards would tell you it was worth it.
When Harry finally did find Blaise, he was reading quietly by himself high up in the North Tower. The book seemed to be a compendium of poisons. He looked up when Harry approached, but didn't speak until his name was called.
"Hullo, Blaise! I had a question."
"One I presume you'd like me to answer," Blaise said. "Speak it."
He didn't seem confused about Harry Potter — a Gryffindor he'd never shared a conversation with — approaching him out of the blue. Harry attributed that to the tight leash he usually kept his emotions on. Blaise was the kind of boy to appreciate getting straight to business.
"Is your mother single at the moment?"
"Have you come into your inheritance yet?" Blaise asked.
"No, no, just my trust vault."
"Ask again when you're out of Hogwarts." Blaise said.
He gave Harry her address for sending owls anyway, 'In advance.' Harry thanked him and left, allowing Blaise to return to his reading materials. Sofia Zabini was probably single if Blaise bothered asking about inheritances. And even if she wasn't… She would be soon.
Harry headed toward the Hogwarts grounds, intending to find a private spot where he could write a letter. He'd received mail that morning from a spotted owl he'd never seen before, carrying a letter written in Sirius's scrawling handwriting. The gist of the message was that he'd received Harry's letter and was on his way to the cave near Hogwarts. Perfectly according to plan (Harry knew Sirius, the old softy, would come running) so he had another invitation to send, one that should easily be just as convincing. He just had to make sure to mention the Black Vault's Galleon collection within the first three lines.
Alas, Harry's plans were stalled the moment he stepped outside, when someone walked behind him and stuffed something into his pocket.
Fleur Delacour went past in her full Beauxbatons garb— heeled shoes, a slanted hat, stockings that went all the way up her lovely legs, and a baby blue shirt-and-skirt combo. She stopped roughly ten feet away from Harry, waiting for him to see what she'd bestowed on his pocket.
Harry pulled out a wadded up ball of cloth. Panties.
As soon as he recognized what he was holding, he looked back at Fleur, just in time to see her grab the sides of her skirt. She pulled it up, flashing her bare ass at him, leaning forward slightly to share a glimpse of her pussy, before letting her skirt fall. Fleur touched her mouth with a long and delicate index finger before turning her back, walking purposefully towards a collection of tents pitched beside the Great Lake. Naturally, Harry followed her.
Fleur struck a pace that made it hard to catch up, not that Harry particularly tried. He was content to stroll behind her, watching her skirt flit up with each of her steps, showing tantalizing glimpses of her lower arse. He knew that when she got to where she was going she would demand his hands on her, so there was no reason to rush. Harry enjoyed the fresh air on his skin, took a relaxing breath, and admired the view, both of Fleur and the general setting.
The sun was out, sharing the sky with only a sparse few clouds. Spring was on its way by now, meaning winter's chill was beginning to melt. The Great Lake glittered as the sun struck its mildly choppy surface. On the shore, Beauxbatons students were going for walks or reading in the sun.
Since their enchanted carriage met such an unfortunate end at the hands of *ahem* dragons, they needed to seek alternative forms of housing. At first, they split up among the Hogwarts dormitories, sharing with those of the same gender (to Fleur's disgruntlement). The measure proved temporary until staff could provide magical tents, each of which accommodated multiple students. As the Beauxbatons champion, Fleur was given one of the nicest tents all to herself. She stopped on the threshold of it now, looking back at Harry before entering. It wasn't an accident that she stooped to duck under the canvas, flashing him once again.
Harry ambled up to the entrance of the blue tent, and while no one was looking, ducked past the flap.
Fleur's tent had the decor of a luxury hotel room. There were leather chairs, a fireplace, and even a kitchenette in case she tired of the greasy Hogwarts food. Her bed was more than big enough to accommodate two people, a fur rug laid out underneath the legs of its frame.
Fleur's clothes formed a trail to the bed like breadcrumbs. There was her skirt, her unbuttoned top, each stocking laid out lengthwise… And at the end of it, perched atop her sheets, she lounged completely nude with her legs spread.
For once, Harry wasn't looking at her, though. He was looking between her legs. "Ginny?"
The youngest Weasley was as naked as Fleur. The only thing she lacked was the part-veela's utter confidence. Ginny looked uncertain about her nudity, with her small and hard breasts and fit little body. "Hi, Harry," she said, offering a wave as she met his eyes, smiling nervously.
He hesitated. Not because the sight of Ginny's body was unpleasant. In her own way, she stirred the flow of his blood just as much Fleur did. He simply didn't expect to find her here, deep in cahoots with a girl she couldn't stand when they were this age.
Ginny mistook his pause for reluctance.
"Seriously? Again?" Ginny said. "Do you find me that repulsive?"
"It's not that, I didn't want to give you false expectations—"
"No more excuses!"
If there was any doubt how much this meant to Ginny, it was dispelled when she mustered a burst of accidental magic, summoning Harry without using her wand. He shot out of his shoes, pulled to the bed in such a way that he landed on top of her. Harry blinked white Ginny cut off any thought of escape by hurling her arms about his neck.
"Do it as we rehearsed, Ginnerva," Fleur said.
Ginny's forearms tightened, dragging Harry's head down until he had nowhere to look but into her eyes.
"I want my hot breath to fog up your glasses as I scream that you're hitting my womb," Ginny said. "I want to dig my ankles into your waist like I'm trying to harm you. I want my back to arch until it gives me scoliosis. I want you to make me squirt until I'm dehydrated. I want to scream your name until it's the only word I can say. I want you to turn my thighs raw by thrusting into me with your raw dick. I want my legs to be inoperable for the next month. I want you to feed me your cum until it becomes my favorite dessert. I want you to kiss me like my mouth owes you rent. I want to be your bitch, your whore, your slut. I'm sick of everyone else getting a turn. I'll let you do anything to me, treat me however you want, so long as you fuck me. Do you understand, Harry Potter? I want to be yours, even if it's just as your toy. Don't think of me as Ron's sister. Just consider me your woman and treat me like one!"
"...Did Fleur coach you on how to say all that?" Harry asked.
"I merely helped Ginnerva sort her feelings. They were already bursting out," Fleur said. "But it is bad manners to speak of other women at a time like this. Give her your answer, Harry."
He started to answer, only for Fleur to reach over Ginny and touch his cheek, stopping him.
"Don't use words," she said.
It occurred to Harry that by trying not to hurt Ginny, his actions might've been counterproductive. He only thought of her getting overly attached… But when he gave every other girl the time of day and skipped right over her, her psyche took a beating. Maybe he overestimated her sentimentality. Maybe his antics had cured some of her idealism.
Either way, it was obvious further resistance would only exacerbate the wound. He kissed her on the lips.
Harry's tongue delved into Ginny's mouth. He wasn't sure if he was doing it 'like her mouth owed rent' but he tried his best. Ginny wasn't disappointed. She melted into his touch, returning his kiss.
Fleur ran her fingers through Harry's hair while he was kissing Ginny. The makeout session lasted a handful of minutes, long enough for Harry's cock to stiffen to its hardest.
When he was ready, Harry separated from Ginny long enough to straddle her chest. He unzipped his pants and pushed them down to his knees, all while Ginny looked at him with her mouth open, dazed and missing the feeling of his tongue.
When his cock pointed toward her face, Ginny's excitement increased. She opened her mouth as wide as her pretty lips could part. Harry moved his hips forward, pressing his glans against her mouth. It slipped past her lips, into the wet warmth that lay beyond. Ginny made a quiet noise of anticipation, straining her jaw.
When Harry thrust into her mouth, her head was pushed back against Fleur's crotch, the French witch's body acting as a perfect backstop. One of Ginny's eyes closed as Harry's cock slid into her throat. She fought to keep her teeth from scraping him and narrowly succeeded, aided in the task by Fleur's thoughtful fingers, which touched her face and massaged her cheeks to help Ginny relax.
"You are getting what you wanted," Fleur cooed. "Aren't you excited Ginnerva?"
Her body clearly was. Ginny's legs clamped together, creating a wet clap as juice from her pussy was caught in the middle. She grinded her legs as pleasure swept through her body. Harry's member repeatedly stabbed her throat, stretching her neck.
"You have the best mouth, Gin," Harry groaned.
It was something he missed, he realized, despite all the women whose company he'd enjoyed. This Ginny wasn't as adept as the woman he married. Her experience was lacking. But there was something about her spit and the way her tongue rubbed him that no one else could replicate. Fleur might not have had a gag reflex, but it took Ginny effort to use her throat, and Harry always found that endearing.
Speaking of Fleur, the part-veela's soft tummy was the perfect headboard, caving just enough for Ginny's head to sink in while carrying enough spring to enhance the face-fuck. Ginny grabbed onto Harry's hips. Instead of pushing him back to slow him down, she pulled forward, urging him to thrust faster. He could see her making an effort to keep her eyes open. She wanted to see Harry's face, just to remind her whose manhood was spearing her gullet.
Fleur touched a part of Ginny's jaw that allowed it to unhinge. Harry was able to drive himself a little deeper into her throat, sending a thin trail of tears out of either of Ginny's eyes. Again, she squeezed his hips and pulled him, urging him to go harder. She wore the streaks of her mascara like badges of pride. Harry hadn't been sucked off this ferociously since the Quidditch World Cup. And the one who did that was here, watching Ginny like a proud mother hen.
"He is going to cum soon. Swallow your prize," Fleur cooed.
"Gurk?" Ginny gasped.
Fleur's cum-radar proved unerringly accurate. Harry hadn't even realized how close he was until she mentioned it, but once she did, he gasped and knew he couldn't hold on. It was for the best, probably. Ginny seemed to be on the verge of passing out.
Harry's balls tightened, rising toward the base of his penis, which twitched from the flow of cum through it. One spurt, two spurts, three in total were injected into Ginny's throat. At first, it spilled forward toward her lips, threatening to escape, until Ginny gathered herself and gulped, forcing it down with all her might.
When Harry's penis popped free of her, no traces of his seed were left. Ginny's mouth was all pink, no white in sight with the exception of her teeth.
"You did great," Harry said.
"Yes… Your effort was beautiful to watch," Fleur hummed. "The time has come. Show Harry your treat."
Ginny blinked. There was a lag as she worked to process the words she was hearing, brought on by the daze of having all those inches in her throat. When she did process Fleur's words she rolled over, just as Harry was stripping out of the last of his clothes.
Ginny lay flat on her stomach, looking back at him over her shoulder. She reached back and grabbed either side of the fit bump that was her arse, pulling the cheeks apart. What looked like a diamond glistened at him, wedged right in the crack.
Ginny smirked, enjoying the face that Harry was making. Eventually, he leveled a flat look at Fleur. "What did you do?"
"I set her free," Fleur said. "Aren't you going to take your gift?"
Harry reached out and pulled on the glistening gem. As the object slid out of Ginny, it kept coming. Harry was briefly stunned, staring at what he was holding.
He'd known it was a butt plug. He just hadn't expected it to be this big.
Ginny hadn't let go of her cheeks, keeping them pried apart and inviting him in. Fleur's measured gaze clearly told Harry to get on with it.
"Ginnerva is doing her best. You should give her what she's hoping for," Fleur said.
Harry gave the six-inch sex toy a last look before throwing it over his shoulder onto the tent floor. He put himself above Ginny, planting his hands to support his weight. Since the bed was cramped, that meant digging his fingers into Fleur's thick thighs. Fleur smiled at him. "Go."
The butt plug had done its work, loosening Ginny sufficiently that Harry's cock was able to enter her ass in one thrust, helped along the way by the coating of spit he'd picked up in her mouth. That wasn't to say Ginny wasn't tight. Compared to a pussy, her ass was like thrusting his dick into a jar as it was hit with a shrinking charm.
Harry's fingers tightened, grabbing fistfuls of Fleur's thighs. She smiled, leaning forward until their noses were brushing.
"Does she feel good?" Fleur's voice was smokey as she whispered to Harry, punctuating her words by sneaking pecks on his lips. "Do not worry about being too rough. You heard what Ginnerva had to say. She's desperate for this."
Ginny's bodily reactions affirmed that. If Harry wasn't mistaken, she'd already orgasmed. Around the time Harry first thrust into her, Ginny had gone facedown on the bed, biting the sheets to weather the pleasure.
Fleur pressed a brief kiss onto Harry's lips, then pulled back enough to speak. "She saw us. The day you brought me into the woods, and we shared such a wonderful time with Luna? She was there. In the bushes, she watched you fuck us. Can you blame her for desiring this? I for one cannot. You are… How does one say it in English? A stud."
Fleur gave evidence for her desires by pressing her lips to Harry's kissing him passionately, this time adding tongue. While Harry kissed her, Ginny's pert rear clapped like clockwork. Ginny lifted her head, dragging up the sheets she had clenched between her teeth. She grunted and spread her legs slightly as she came again.
Fleur became increasingly worked up, turning her head in order to snake her tongue deeper into Harry's mouth. The soft soft collisions of their lips took on more heat. The harder Fleur kissed him, the harder he moved his hips. Ginny's behind was soaking up damage, driving Harry closer to cumming each time he rammed in.
"Fill her!" Fleur said, the words riding a hot exhale out of her mouth.
Harry came as hard as he had in Ginny's mouth. It was quite the cum-splosion, mostly because his cock had already stretched her ass to its maximum. With nowhere to nestle in, his cum spurted out, dripping down her lips. Harry left himself buried in her while kissing Fleur, who pushed her hips forward. A somewhat dazed Ginny ended up lapping at Fleur's pussy, sliding her tongue into the older girl.
Fleur gave Harry's chest a soft push, driving him back. She slid her hands into Ginny's hair and held the back of her skull, easing Ginny forward to guide her cunnilingus. Harry looked down, focusing on Ginny's crotch. A second later he grabbed her hips.
Fleur grinned, pleased with the direction things were going. Harry lifted Ginny's lower body, propping her up on her knees, pressing his tip to her entrance.
When he thrusted, her body was driven forward, burying her face as deep as it would go in Fleur's lovely lady parts.
Harry moved his body with force and regularity, pounding Ginny's fit body. Fleur bent her knees, pointing them toward the ceiling as she pushed Ginny's face forward, moaning. If Ginny was making any noise, it was being muffled by Fleur's quim. Her pussy was the loudest part of her, sloshing every time Harry's penis stabbed inside.
He wanted to ask if it was everything she'd been waiting for, but as said before, Fleur was doing a good job gagging Ginny. Harry decided the gushing of Ginny's pussy was answer enough.
Tremors passed through her folds, squeezing down on him nearly as tightly as her ass had. Harry dug his thumbs into the dimples of Ginny's lower back. Her body was petite enough that his fingers reached a respectable distance around her waist. His grip tightened as he plowed her, losing himself in the concussive rhythm.
Time became an afterthought. He lost himself in the claps of flesh, the moans from his mouth and Fleur's, and the moist sounds of Ginny's pussy getting mixed up. At some point, Fleur came, her moans reaching a brief crescendo. She offered Ginny no quarter, keeping the redhead working.
Finally, Harry reached the limit of what he could handle. He let go of Ginny's hips and pulled out, cumming across her back. Aroused by the sight, Fleur climaxed again, squirting on Ginny's face.
Harry leaned back, dropping onto his butt and breathing quite heavily. Ginny remained still, her rump raised and her face buried in the blankets. Cum dripped off her hips, running in streaks off her back. He couldn't see her face, but he could imagine Fleur had left it glistening.
Less than a minute after his rest began, Fleur crawled across the bed into Harry's lap, straddling him.
"What a lovely afternoon," she said.
"I get the feeling you aren't ready for it to end," Harry said.
"Observant."
Fleur slid down, riding Harry's cock and keeping it hard. As she bucked her hips, she drew Harry into a kiss. Occasionally, over the claps of her thighs against his, Harry could hear Ginny moan, unmoving from her fetal position.
A lovely afternoon indeed.