Harry Potter Porn Story: Tale of One Kitty

Harry Potter Porn Story: Tale of One Kitty

This is written by cloneserpents on fanfiction.net

The final battle was nothing spectacular; at least, not as far as Harry Potter was concerned. In fact, whenever Harry mentioned the conflict, he made a point not to capitalize the two words. In his mind, it had been a lackluster moment and not important enough to receive the distinction of upper case letters. Therefore, he described it as, simply, “the final battle.”

It had happened on the Dursleys’ front garden the day before Harry turned seventeen; Voldemort and his Death Eaters launched a surprise attack. Luckily, Snape had alerted the Order of the Phoenix just in time.

A pitched battle between good and evil broke out in the garden. Thankfully, none of the participants had resorted to lethal spells so the only victim was the garden itself; good trampled Petunia’s roses while evil kicked up chunks of sod everywhere.

In the center of the commotion, Voldemort dueled with Dumbledore. It was a sight to see. The masters of light and dark magic threw everything they could at one another. Each attack was met with a counter. The air was filled with the sounds of pops and explosions. The fight was so fantastic that even the Order members and Death Eaters stopped fighting just so they could witness the awe inspiring battle.

After a few short minutes, it became clear that Voldemort and Dumbledore were too equally skilled to gain the upper hand. Each of their curses and hexes were blocked or deflected.

While everyone was mesmerized by the two sorcerers fighting, Harry seized the opportunity to tip the scales, so to speak. The young wizard snuck into the shed in the back garden and retrieved a large, flat blade shovel. Returning to the front garden, he slinked between the spectators and up behind the most feared dark wizard. Bracing himself, Harry swung said shovel as hard as he could at the back of the villain’s skull. With the blow, Harry had effectively knocked Voldemort’s eyes out of their sockets, shattered his skull and turned his brain into runny porridge that dribbled out of his nose, ears and the gaping holes where his eyes had, until very recently, rested.

Harry was both surprised and relieved that it was finally over. A part of him had suspected that a shovel to the head would do little more than piss Voldemort off. But there the fiend was, falling to the ground, dead.

The order members rallied while the Death Eaters were stunned over Voldemort’s death. The masked minions were easily rounded up. Once the battle was over, the celebration began.

“He did it!” someone cheered.

“Dumbledore killed You Know Who!” shouted another.

The thought that one of the most powerful men had been killed by such a mundane thing as a shovel to the back of the head was immediately dismissed by all who had witnessed the battle. It was as if such an outcome was inconceivable to them. Everyone had seemingly believed that Harry had only distracted Voldemort, giving Dumbledore the opportunity to smite the villain.

“Wait a tick,” protested Harry as several Order members hoisted Dumbledore upon their shoulders. “I’m the one that killed—”

Harry paused. As the cheering witches and wizards carried Dumbledore away like a conquering hero, Harry found that he wasn’t upset or jealous. A part of him knew that Dumbledore would be heralded and even worshiped as a hero for defeating Voldemort. The old man would be hounded day and night by people wanting to bask in his greatness. Children all across Britain would be named after him. Statues would be erected in the elderly Headmaster’s honor and wings of hospitals would bear his name. And Harry came to realize that he didn’t want that. The young wizard didn’t want people following wherever he went, asking for autographs or to kiss their babies. Without this unwanted attention, Harry could lead a normal life. In that moment, Harry openly welcomed Dumbledore taking the credit for his deed.

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When Harry returned to Hogwarts for his seventh and final year, as Head Boy no less, Dumbledore asked him if the truth concerning Voldemort’s demise should be known. Harry gladly told the Headmaster that he didn’t want such an honor and that he wanted to live an ordinary life, free of harassment.

Now that he didn’t have some madman or his minions after him, Harry intended to live life to the fullest. The first thing Harry set out to do was to find a pretty witch to ask out on a date. Luckily for him, Susan Bones was the first witch he had asked out. The attractive red-head had eagerly agreed to a date. The reason why Harry considered himself so lucky was proven on their first date; Susan described herself as a “hungry cock-monger” and demonstrated this by slipping under the table and… well, you know. If you need more description as to what happened, this author humbly request that you read his other works for example or wait until later in this particular story.

Hermione, being Hermione, buried herself in study. On top of her Head Girl duties and her heavy class load, she was taking apprenticeship lessons in charms as well as special lessons from McGonagall on animagus magic. The brunette excitedly told Harry of her advancements with her animagus training one afternoon during lunch; “Oh, I think I’m going to turn into an owl or perhaps a sparrow. Professor McGonagll says that I have months, perhaps even a year, before I make my first transformation. But both she and I are surprised and pleased at my progress.” Harry pretended to be interested in Hermione’s tale without listening. Not because it wasn’t fascinating or he was being rude, it was just that Susan was hiding under Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, demonstrating her “hungry cock-monger” tendencies at that time and Harry was rightfully distracted.

Ron, being Ron, was jealous of Harry and his adventurous girlfriend; he had walked in on Harry and Susan, both naked with her shouting “Gods, Harry, your fat cock feels so good stuffed up my arse!” To be fair, any bloke would be jealous in that given situation, not just Ron. Spurred on by the thoughts of some witch using the phrase “fat cock” and “in my arse” in reference to him and not Harry, the red-haired wizard attempted to find himself a girlfriend, just as Harry had. Unfortunately, Ron wasn’t as lucky. After ten propositions that received twelve negative answers – some were very adamant against the idea of ever dating Ron – and three hard slaps across the face – some were very, very adamant – the young wizard had given up hope. But then a shining ray of promise shone on the red-head. With eyes sparkling, Ron looked up into that seemingly divine beam of light; it told him to wait, that the perfect witch for him would come along eventually. As he sat there, staring like an idiot, the light that shone upon him was eclipsed by a young witch that walked into his view. One could arguably describe her as two witches, seeing that she had the mass and circumference of two good sized women.

“I hear yer lookin’ fer a girlfriend?” the massive witch asked. Her many chins and jowls shook and jiggled with each word.

“Yes,” answered Ron.

“Well then, I’m yer girl,” Sally-Anne Perks said and picked him up like a rag-doll before kissing him hard. Harry, who had the misfortune to witness this first kiss, had gotten the impression that Sally-Anne thought there may have been some bit of food stuck in the back of Ron’s mouth and was attempting to fish it out with her tongue. Then, conceivably, the large witch was under the mistaken impression that Ron had hidden a chicken leg down the front of his trousers, for Sally-Anne shoved her hand into his pants in hopes of finding it, right there in front of a shocked Harry and the rest of the students gathered in the Great Hall for supper. From that moment on, Ron and Sally-Anne were inseparable. It really didn’t matter to Ron whether or not Sally-Anne was the “perfect witch” the divine light had promised him. The fact that Sally-Ann put out was the deciding factor for Ron.

Ron and Harry weren’t the only ones lucky in love. Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood had become an item shortly after term started. After three months of dating, Neville announced his intention of one day taking Luna as his bride. This joyous news piqued Ginny Weasley’s interest. Ginny was the type of girl that wanted things she couldn’t have; it was just in her nature to long for things she either couldn’t or shouldn’t possess. When she heard that Neville and Luna had made a vow to one another, Ginny’s nature kicked in and she tried to steal Neville away from the blonde Ravenclaw. At first, Ginny’s advances had been innocent. She wrote him simple and chaste love poems. But one night, she abducted Neville and tried to seduce him. Thankfully, Luna saved her fiancé-to-be from Ginny’s clutches. Luna, being patient and understanding, forgave Ginny. However, a week later when Ginny had flashed Neville in the Library in hopes of wooing him, Luna’s patience and understanding vanished. The cat-fight that ensued inspired many a wank fests for many of the witnesses.

For Christmas, Harry received his usual gifts from his friends; two books from Hermione, one on charms and another on Quidditch, and a box of Bertie Blott’s Every Flavour Beans from Ron – however, over half of the contents of said box had been eaten, more likely than not by Sally-Anne who seemed to always be munching on something or another. The best present Harry received was from his girlfriend, Susan. The witch had shown up at the foot of his bed in his Head Boy’s chamber wearing nothing but three strategically placed bows and a smile.

Later that day, after he had rested and recovered from Susan’s ‘multiple presents‘, Harry went to Hermione’s Head Girl’s room to thank her for the gift. However, when Harry knocked on his best friend’s door, he got a blunt “Go away” as a response.

Even though her voice had been muffled by the closed door, Harry could tell that Hermione was crying. Waving his wand, Harry removed the door’s locking charm and walked in.

Hunched over with her back to the door, Hermione wailed; “I said go away!”

“Yeah, but it’s my experience that a witch often means the opposite of what she says,” Harry said, cheekily. He needed to find out why Hermione was crying, and set out to do this in a light hearted manner. “This means that when you said ‘go away,‘ what you really wanted to say was ‘please come in‘.”

“Harry, I’m serious! Please leave me alone.”

“What’s the matter, Hermione?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to be alone.”

“Nothing’s wrong, huh? It’s a perfectly normal thing to lock yourself in your room and cry on Christmas?”

“I’m not crying. I’m perfectly fine,” she insisted while hiccupping.

“Can’t you even look at me and say that?”

She turned. “See? I’m fine. Now leave me alone.”

“Err, Hermione, what’s with the getup?” The witch was wearing a large, broad brim hat, pulled down low on her head, a thick wool scarf tied around her mouth, and a pair of big, black sunglasses. The only part of her face that Harry could see was the very tip of her nose; the rest was covered by the accessories.

“They’re… um… they’re presents from my mum and dad. I decided to wear them.”

“All at once?”

“Yes!”

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” he repeated, walking up to stand within arm’s reach of the young witch. When she didn’t respond to his question, he folded his arms across his chest, silently telling her that he would not move until she told him what he wanted to hear.

Hoping to out-stubborn Harry, Hermione, too, crossed her arms in a defiant gesture, implying that she would not cave in to him. Harry held fast and didn’t budge. Even without being able to see through the dark glasses, Harry was certain that Hermione was glaring at him. After a few moments, he could see the tip of her nose turn red in frustration.

“Fine!” she huffed. “Just promise not to scream or laugh!”

“I promise,” he said solemnly. He was now deeply worried about his friend. What had happened to her that caused her to cover her entire head and warn him not to scream or laugh? Did she somehow become horribly disfigured since he last saw her?

With trembling hands, Hermione reached up and tugged off the scarf and glasses. Harry was curious as to what was concerning Hermione. Besides her eyes being closed, there was nothing wrong with her. Then she removed her hat.

“Oh, my,” he uttered in surprise.

Jutting out of the top of her head were two, large cat-ears, complete with soft, brown fur. With her eyes still shut, she asked “Are you laughing?”

He was about to reply to her question when his brain registered her teeth. The witch had two short fangs where her canines used to be. Her eyes fluttered open and Harry saw two yellow eyes with vertical slits staring at him.

“You’re a cat.”

“Not completely,” she said, pouting.

His eyes darted between her new ears, yellow eyes, and sharp teeth, asking “Do you have a tail, too?”

Frowning even more, Hermione nodded. “It’s about two, two-and-a-half feet long.”

“How’d this happen?”

“I tried my first animagus transformation today,” she said with a sniffle. “McGonagall suggested that I attempt it seeing how well I’ve been progressing.”

“And you turned into a half-cat, half-girl?”

“No! Let me explain. The first time a witch or wizard tries to transform, they change into whatever animal best represents them for a split second. So, by all means, I should’ve changed and then reverted in the blink of an eye. But when I tried to do it, I sprouted ears, a tail, yellow eyes, and sharp teeth.

“Something went wrong, obviously. McGonagall rushed me to the hospital ward so that she and Pomfrey could try and fix me. When Pomfrey made a comment about me turning into a cat in our second year, McGonagall grew suspicious.”

Hermione paused to blow her nose into a handkerchief.

“I had to tell them about the polyjuice incident. I didn’t tell Pomfrey the truth in second year because I was afraid of getting in trouble. So, McGonagall ended up fetching Snape. When he got to the Ward, he explained, in his best condescending manner of course, that polyjuice is to be used for human to human transformation only. If an animal hair is used, the polyjuice is mutated. Instead of the effects only lasting ninety minutes, it can last indefinitely. The potion and the animal DNA would still be in the person’s body, even years later.”

“But Pomfrey cured you. And you were more cat-like when than happened than you are now.”

“I know! That’s what I told them!” she said with a new bout of tears cascading down her cheeks. “Snape was more than happy to tell me that the exterior effects could be modified to make the person appear cured, but the mutated polyjuice would still linger inside.

“McGonagall and Snape theorized that the polyjuice was dormant until I tried to change and that the animagus magics must have reacted negatively with the polyjuice. The two combined and triggered the cat DNA in my system, magically merging it with my own. That’s why I’m not as cat-like as I was before.”

“Can’t you change back?”

“Don’t you think I would’ve if that was possible?” she snapped, upset over the situation. “McGonagall, Pomfrey, and even Snape worked on me for hours! They finally came to the conclusion that this,” she gestured to her ears, face, and hidden tail, “is now… permanent!”

“Oh,” uttered Harry.

“I’m going to look like a cat for the rest of my life!” she whimpered. “I’m a cat-girl! No one will even want to look at me! I’ll never have a boyfriend. I’ll die all alone!”

Sitting on the bed next to his friend, Harry attempted to consol her. “Actually, I think you look cute. There are probably loads of blokes who’d like you for a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, right. Like anyone in the world would want a cat-girl,” she said with a snort. “It’s not like I’ve had a large number of guys after me when I was fully human.”

“I’m sure there’s someone out there that would want you no matter what,” he said. “Besides, why not use some glamour or concealing charms to hide the ears and eyes.”

“I suppose I can read up on some in the Library.”

“You know, Susan’s very good at such things. Maybe she can help,” offered Harry.

“Really, what did she conceal?”

“My trousers last weekend,” he said, smiling over the memory. “We were stuck in my room for two whole days. That and she also helped Eloise Midgen conceal her acne problem.”

“I suppose a concealment charm might work,” she said. Despite agreeing to get help from Susan, Harry could still tell that Hermione was down.

“Hey, maybe there are some pluses to this. Do you have any cat-like abilities?” he asked, hoping to make her see the bright side.

“Yes, Harry Potter, I crave a saucer of cream and have a burning desire to play with a ball of yarn!” she snapped, still upset over her appearance.

“Actually, I was thinking about heightened hearing and smell,” Harry said, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Oh,” she whimpered.

The two sat in silence for a moment. Then Harry asked, “You weren’t exaggerating about the yarn and cream were you?”

“No. It’s taking everything I have in me not to march to the Kitchen and get a big bowl of cream,” she admitted, frowning.

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Harry regretted offering Susan’s help nearly the instant the two witches met in Hermione’s Head Girl’s quarters. It’s a law of nature that when two women get together for any event that their conversations will eventually venture to the subject of men and relationships, it’s inevitable. For Susan and Hermione, the topics of men and relationships came up shortly after the words “Hello, how are you?” were spoken. And since Hermione was currently single and Susan had a boyfriend, the topic of conversation was the red-head’s beau. This meant the two girls were talking openly about very personal and private things concerning Harry, even though he was standing in the same room.

“Did you really go down on him on your first date? Isn’t that a little too, much too soon?” Hermione asked, slightly abashed.

“It was just a blow job, it’s not like I was making a commitment,” The red-hed replied, nonchalantly.

“But you made a commitment sometime afterwards?”

“Oh, my, yes,” Susan, who was not one to blush, smiled as her cheeks turned a rosy red. “Right after I saw what a big, fat cock he had, I made a commitment.”

“Really?” asked Hermione, her eyes involuntarily darting to a certain area of Harry’s body.

“Oh Merlin, yes. When you go fishing, you toss the little ones back. But when you reel in a whopper, you hold onto it! And let me tell you; Harry’s a whopper!”

“A whopper?” her eyes darted again. Hermione’s tail, which was jutting out from her short skirt, swished back and forth twice.

“Yes, but like all blokes, he came too soon at first.”

“Oh, my.”

“He’s gotten loads better. But at first, it was like two thrusts and he was asleep and snor—”

“Excuse me, but aren’t you two going to discuss charms and whatnot?” interrupted Harry, embarrassed by the topic. Sure, he liked having his girlfriend use descriptive words like “big,” fat,” and “whopper” as much as the next bloke. In fact, when Susan and Hermione discussed such things, the wizard felt very much like flexing. But listing his inadequacies, even after having overcome them, bothered him as much as the next bloke.

“Spoil sport,” Susan playfully chastised before turning back to Hermione’s problem. “Now, as you may or may not know, most glamour and concealing charms can only last an hour or two. That means you’ll have to constantly recast them throughout the day, or use more mundane measures, such as clothes or accessories. Your tail can be hidden by a robe fairly easily; or even simply a skirt a little bit longer than that skimpy one you’re wearing now. So we won’t have to worry about that.”

As if it knew they were talking about it, Hermione’s tail swished back and forth slowly.

“As for your ears, might I suggest a stylish, yet practical, silk scarf?” Susan said, pulling a crimson scarf out of her robes. She wrapped it around Hermione’s head, forcing her cat ears flat against her scalp.

“What do you think?” Susan asked Harry, examining her own handiwork.

“I think it looks rather fetching,” Harry said with an approving nod.

“WHAT?” hollered Hermione. She pointed to her covered ears and shouted, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“Okay, so that obviously won’t work,” Susan said, rubbing her chin.

“WHAT?”

The red-head removed the scarf.

“I don’t think that will work,” Hermione informed.

“We caught that,” said Harry.

“Maybe we can do something with your hair,” suggested Susan. “Maybe tie it up and cover your ears.”

“If we tie my hair up that means the sides of my head will be exposed. Unfortunately, that will reveal to everyone that I don’t have normal ears anymore.”

“Damn, I guess then you’ll have to recast the glamour charms throughout the day. They aren’t difficult to perform, but if you have to do it ten or more times a day, it gets rather bothersome,” Susan said, regrettably.

“How about we just imbue an item that recasts the charms for Hermione?” offered Harry. “Maybe a brooch or something that could automatically generate the glamour?”

“That might work!” said Hermione, excitedly. “I’ll have to research some imbuing charms, but that shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

“Hermione, I know this may seem inappropriate and I don’t want to offend you, but…” Susan hesitated, clearly embarrassed.

“Susan, you’re helping me out. It’s only fair that I return the favor. So please, ask away,” Hermione said.

The red-head fidgeted for a moment before announcing “I’m kind of a cat person. Actually, I’m what some call a cat-nutter. I just love them. Every time I see a cat, I have to scratch their ears.”

“And you want to scratch my ears?”

“I’m sorry,” she said with a touch of shame. “It’s this mad compulsion I get. I really don’t want to offend you.”

“All right, go ahead,” Hermione said, giving into the inevitable.

Giggling like a proverbial cat-nutter, Susan scurried over to Hermione. “Just don’t make it a habit,” warned the brunette.

Susan brought both hands to Hermione’s ears and began tickling and scratching them. Hermione’s eyelids became very heavy and a blush formed on her cheeks instantaneously. A loud rumbling noise emanated from her throat.

“I changed my mind,” Hermione purred – literally. The tip of her furry tail flicked about, curling and straightening in a slow, rhythmic motion. “You can definitely make a habit of this.”

The brunette rolled her head, pushing her ears into Susan’s palms and wriggling fingers. Clearly enjoying the situation, Hermione’s tail swished back and forth and up and down; so much that it lifted her short pleated skirt, giving Harry several quick glimpses of her white cotton knickers. Hermione continued to roll her head even after it was resting between Susan’s large breasts. Susan seemed transfixed by the act of scratching the cat ears and had either not noticed or cared that Hermione was now nuzzling against her ample bosom.

However, unlike Susan, Harry noticed and cared deeply. He watched transfixed; his girlfriend was scratching his best friend’s ears and that same friend was rubbing her face right between his girlfriend’s sizeable titties. Harry’s naughty place, which until this very moment was only inhabited by Padma and Parvati Patil playing rather naughty games such as “Sticky Fingers” and “Hide the Tongue,” now had another pair of girls frolicking among the fertile fields of his perverted imagination. Perhaps, if he was lucky, the imagination Twins would invite Cat-Girl Hermione and Buxom Susan over for tea and perhaps cunnilingus.

Grrk!” exclaimed Harry as that happy image of a four-way lick fest played out in his mind.

“What was that, honey?” Susan asked, continuing to scratch Hermione’s ears in a daze.

“I said ‘Grrk!'” repeated Harry.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she said, lost in her cat-nutter moment, totally oblivious to Hermione’s nuzzling activities.

“Um, could you excuse me,” requested Harry as he made his way out of the room. An urgent need had developed in his trousers that demanded attention. Yes, Harry had a girlfriend and technically he didn’t need to do this by himself any longer. But he couldn’t go up to Susan and say “Hey, watching Hermione rub her face in your tits has gotten me randy. Wanna shag?” Susan wouldn’t be too keen on that, he reckoned. That meant Harry had to go to the boys’ lavatory and wank. Which he did… twice.

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The next night, Susan presented Harry a plate full of chocolate treats in his room. He eyed her dubiously. The two teens had dated long enough to know that whenever Susan felt guilty over something she’d done, she gave Harry treats, specifically chocolate. For example, she gave him chocolate when she missed his first Quidditch match and again when she had skived on one of their study dates.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Do? Nothing,” she said and let out a nervous, bark-like laugh. “What makes you think I did something?”

“Susan, I can tell you’re lying.”

“No, no I’m not. I just wanted to give you a present. That’s all. Can’t a witch give her boyfriend a present without a reason? No, I’d say I don’t need a reason, don’t you?” she said in one breath.

“If you wanted to give me a present, you would’ve done something sexual; blow-job, anal sex, or blow-job promptly followed by anal sex. Perhaps even a blow-job followed by anal, then another blow-job. However, chocolate is always you’re ‘I’m sorry I’ve been a bad girl‘ present.”

“Damn,” she said regrettably, betrayed by her own guilty conscious.

“Fess up.”

“Well, yesterday, after you left, I asked Hermione if I could pet her tail. She said yes. So I did. It was so soft and yummy feeling that I kind of lost myself andIstuckafingerinherbottom.”

Harry didn’t even have the cognitive ability to utter “Grrk!” after deciphering Susan’s rapid-fire explanation. He knew that seeing Susan stick a finger up Hermione’s bum would’ve been much more fun that just watching Hermione rub her face in Susan’s boobs!

“But, Hermione was wearing knickers,” he said, recalling the enticing image of the girl in question’s tail lifting her skirt from the night before. “How could you’ve ‘accidentally’ stuck a finger in her bottom while she was wearing knickers?”

“I kinda of inadvertently pulled them down before I sort of accidentally pushed a finger in,” she replied, hoping to give the impression that such actions were nothing more than simple mistakes.

“Oh, I see now,” he muttered. His mind wandered to the happy scene Susan described. Damn his impatience; if only he had just stayed with Susan and Hermione a little longer, he would’ve gotten much better wank material than just a face rubbing in boobs!

“Are you very mad at me?” she asked, wringing her hands at Harry’s dazed expression.

He wanted to say “I’m mad that I didn’t stick around longer!” But admitting that he would’ve enjoyed seeing his girlfriend stick her finger in another girl’s bottom would be inappropriate. He reckoned witches got tetchy when their boyfriends even thought about them with another witch. So Harry finally managed to say, “Well, accidents happen. A slipped finger isn’t cheating after all.”

“That’s right!” she said. The red-head pushed a chocolate éclair at Harry and laughed. “Not cheating at all!”

Harry’s eyes sprung open wide. The nervous laugh, the forced offer of chocolate, it all pointed to something nefarious.

“Susan?”

“What?”

“What did you do?”

“I told you; I accidentally fingered her bottom,” she said. Laughing once again, Susan stuffed a chocolate biscuit into his mouth.

“Susan!” Harry said around the biscuit.

“Well, Hermione didn’t object. And, at the time, I figured if Hermione wasn’t opposed to one finger in her bottom, then why not two?”

“T-t-tw-two fingers?”

“Err, yes,” admitted Susan.

Harry was distracted by the image Susan had described when he saw his girlfriend reach for another treat to force-feed him, indicating there was more to tell. “What else happened?”

“Ah, well, you see, Hermione apparently felt the need to reciprocate,” Susan said nervously. “She tugged down my top and suck on my titties. Her rough tongue really tickled me nicely.”

“She sucked your titties while you were finger-shagging her bum?” He asked, cursing his lack of patience. ‘If only I stuck around longer…’ he berated himself internally.

“That’s not all.”

“Wha?”

“The sucking and fingering led to both of us stripping naked, which led to more sucking and fingering, which led to… you know.”

“No, no I don’t know,” Harry squeaked in a masculine fashion. “You should tell me. And use as many descriptive words as you can in the process.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t have been nervous,” Hermione said, slinking out of the shadows.

“Hermione? How long have you been here?” asked Harry in surprise.

“Long enough to hear your pulse quicken and smell your pre-cum dribbling out,” she said with a wicked smile. “It seems that I do have some heightened senses after all.”

“Are you really randy?” Susan asked, her eyes twinkling.

“Susan here thinks that you would’ve been upset that she shagged another witch,” Hermione explained. “I told her several times that you’d be turned on by it.”

“Um, not to be rude or anything, but why are you here?” he asked the cat-girl.

“Besides the senses, ears and tail, I’ve developed another feline trait,” Hermione said. Her tail flicked rapidly under the same short skirt she had worn the night before as she approached Harry; her motions giving him the impression of a cat stalking its prey. “Apparently, I’m in heat.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” he gulped.

“Yes, it is,” Hermione said. “And as nice as Susan is, I think I want some of you as well.” Her hand moved like a blur, lunging for his lap. In the blink of an eye, Hermione had tugged down Harry’s zipper and pulled out his hardening manhood. “Wow, you’re right, Susan, he is a whopper.”

“Hey, that’s my boyfriend’s cock in your hand!” protested Susan.

Harry could’ve been low and mentioned that since Susan cheated with Hermione, he could as well, to even out the scales. Tit for tat, so to speak. But, being a noble Gryffindor, he took the higher road and offered; “Can’t we… share?”

The young wizard hoped that his girlfriend would take up the suggestion. That or start a fight with Hermione that would lead to both witches ripping off one another’s clothes and rolling around on the floor. After all, he had rather enjoyed watching Ginny and Luna fight and reasoned that since he was attracted to Susan and Hermione, his enjoyment could only increase. Perhaps, if he was very lucky, he’d get to witness some fingers “accidentally” pushing themselves into naughty areas.

Susan looked between Harry and Hermione – who was still holding onto Harry’s penis – and announced “That’s a brilliant idea, actually. We’ll take turns. First up it’ll be me, you and Hermione. Then me and Hermione will go at it while you recover—”

“And watch,” adjusted Harry.

“Then it’ll be you and Hermione, then me and Hermione again, and finally all three again!”

“Whatever, let’s get to the fucking!” Hermione insisted, hopping onto Harry’s lap.

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The next morning, Harry woke from his sexual exhaustion induced slumber to find Susan half draped over his chest and Hermione curled up like a ball, lying between his legs. This meant that his legs had been forced wide apart by the brunette so that she could achieve this cat-like position. In essence, Harry was twisted and contorted like a pretzel thanks to the two witches sharing his bed.

Despite this awkward sleeping arrangement, the young wizard felt an overpowering sense of comfort and affection. He had grown to love Susan and her kooky and kinky ways, while Hermione was, truly, his best friend. Waking up, intertwined in one another’s bodies, Harry had never felt so happy in his life. He wanted, no, needed that feeling of happiness to continue. Harry realized that he wanted to share in Susan and Hermione’s lives; knowing that he couldn’t feel complete if he didn’t. Smiling, he made up his mind to ensure that he’d wake up with these two witches again and again. Anything to make certain that he could feel this special happiness the rest of his life.

That and the sex was a downright hoot. Any bloke would cut off his own leg to have a threesome with two witches, let alone these two intelligent, adventurous, and beautiful ladies.

After he, Susan, and Hermione had sex the night before, he buggered Hermione. Then Harry watched as Susan and Hermione made love. Once they were done, he made love to Susan. It was a physical struggle for him, having cummed twice before, but Harry prevailed and banged the hell out of his buxom girlfriend before wanking on her healthy breasts. Hermione then leapt on Susan and licked her clean, much to Harry’s enjoyment. Of course, the young wizard finally lost the battle to remain conscious as the two girls began to perform a popular position referred to as a “69.”

Movement between his legs drew Harry’s attention (no, not “that” type of movement. Although, it’s easy to see how one could get a little confused; Harry had just recalled the erotic images from the night before, after all. And it would’ve been perfectly normal and natural for “that” type of movement to occur). Hermione stirred. She unfolded herself, stretching out her arms in front of her and over Harry’s leg, and, with her torso still on the bed, the cat-girl stretched her legs straight, forcing her naked bottom and furry tail up in the air.

“Morning, Fuzzy,” Harry said.

With a twinkle in her sleepy eyes and a smile gracing her pretty face, Hermione returned; “Good Morning.”

She crawled on all fours up Harry’s body. Pushing and bumping her brow into his, she asked; “How’d you sleep?” with a soft rumbling coming from her throat.

“To be honest, I wouldn’t call it ‘sleep’ exactly. It was more like a coma,” he said.

“Well then, how was your coma?” she amended.

“Wonderful.”

“You know Susan’s drooling on you?”

“Yeah, she’s a drooler. I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

Looking at Hermione’s smiling lips, Harry said, “You know, I didn’t even get to kiss you last night.”

“It was kind of frantic, wasn’t it?” she said, liking her lips, clearly hoping for a kiss.

“I guess that’s what happens when you’re in heat huh? Everything just becomes a mad sex romp,” Harry added, leaning toward the brunette, gladly trying to fulfill her unspoken hopes.

Hermione blushed and averted her eyes. “Harry, about that, I sort of, well, misled you about the whole ‘in heat’ issue.”

“How much did you mislead me?”

“Well, somewhere between bending the truth and an outright lie,” she said, fidgeting her fingers.

“Would this ‘somewhere’ be closer to ‘bending the truth‘ side of the spectrum, or more to the ‘outright lie‘ end?”

“Truth is a matter of perspective,” she debated.

“So you’re not in heat.”

She chewed her lip before admitting “No. To be honest, I don’t even know if I ever will be in heat.”

“Then what happened last night?”

“I was incredibly randy,” she said. Her blush deepened as she continued, “When Susan told me that you were nicely endowed, I just started to burn. I’ve had many fantasies about you before. Susan’s endorsements of your gift just added fuel to it. I was more aroused than I’ve ever been.”

“Really? You’ve had fantasies about me?”

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I can’t think of you in a sexual manner,” she said. “I’m certain that you’ve done the same with me.”

“Once or twice,” he said as his face joined Hermione’s in the blush parade.

“Once or twice? Is that all?”

“A week,” he added.

“Ah, that makes me feel better,” she said.

“So, did you ever fantasize about Ron?” he asked.

“Good Lord no,” Hermione snorted. “Have you seen how that boy eats? He stuffs his face with as much food as he can as fast as possible. Then he sprays chucks of partially masticated food all over the place. Seeing that once would ruin any witches desire for him.”

“Except for Sally-Ann,” Harry said.

“Not to be crude, but she eats just like he does,” she argued.

“Good point. I guess that means they’re made for each other,” agreed Harry.

“About that kiss, I think I deserve one,” she said, leaning toward his lips.

Harry kissed his best friend. The contentment he had felt before now mixed with excitement. His spine tingled with that kiss. The purring rumbling from Hermione’s throat increased; she now sounded like a motor that was missing a piston.

“Hey now, save some for me,” mumbled Susan as she woke up.

“It’s always about you isn’t it?” Harry said, jokingly, as he moved toward the red-head.

Just as he was about to kiss her, Susan’s mouth opened wide, yawning deeply. She continued to yawn as Hermione crawled over her and Harry. The brunette winked knowingly at Harry. The moment Susan stopped yawning, Hermione announced “Three-way kissing!” She placed her hand on the back of Harry’s head and forced it down, bringing his face toward hers and Susan’s. The three teen’s lips and tongues mashed together. The tingling in Harry’s spine spiked. If he had not exerted himself the night before, the young wizard was positive that he would’ve gotten a rock hard erection just from that kiss.

“Mmm, that’s not a bad way to wake up,” Susan said, smiling. The three continued to cuddle and kiss for several minutes before the red-head asked, “Can I get a back rub, Harry?”

“Harry gives massages?” asked Hermione, her interest obviously piqued.

“Oh yes, quite good ones,” Susan said, rolling onto her belly. “He gives me a rub down every morning after a nice shagging.”

“Can I get one too?” the cat-girl asked. Her tail swished with anticipation.

“Sure, flip over,” Harry said. He got up on his knees, kneeling between the two witches. He began by placing his palms on their backs and caressing them, soothing out their muscles. Then, after her gently rubbing them for a few minutes, he gently pressed his fingertips into their flesh and dragged them up and down their backs. Occasionally, he’d remove a hand from one of the witches in order to concentrate on the other, remembering to make sure that each had gotten an equal amount of attention. He knew from experience that Susan liked it when he worked his knuckles into the small of her back. And remembering how much Hermione liked to have her ears scratched, Harry tickled her fuzzy ears. Both witches were purring in short order, although Hermione’s reaction was more literal.

As he continued to rub, caress, kneed, and tickled the witches, he broached the subject that had come to him before Hermione woke. “What would you two say to the notion of continuing this little arrangement?”

Looking up and over her shoulder, Susan said saucily, “Ah, leave it to the bloke to suggest a permanent threesome.”

“That wasn’t a ‘no’,” Hermione pointed out.

“I’d be lying if I said the sex wasn’t fantastic,” Susan admitted. “So I guess I wouldn’t mind having a shag-buddy to share with Harry.”

“I was actually suggesting a romantic relationship, not just sex,” Harry said.

The two witches looked at each other in surprise.

“Hermione and I are best friends; we have loads in common. So having our friendship progress into a romantic relationship, well, it’d be a natural thing,” he explained, hoping they would agree with his logic.

“What about me?” asked Susan, without a hint of jealously.

“Well, I’m already in love with you,” he said.

“Really?” she said with her eyes wide. “You’ve never said that before.”

“I’ve felt it for a while,” he said with his face burning. “I’ve just never had the nerve to admit it out loud before.”

“Okay, saying that you’re in love with me will get you a free blow-job, but what about Hermione and I?” the red-head asked. “For this threesome to work, she and I will have to have loving feelings toward each other.”

“Hermione is a beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate witch. Falling for her will be easy,” Harry said. The brunette smiled at the compliment. “Besides, you said it yourself; you’re a cat-nutter. You’re already halfway to loving her right now.

“And you, Susan, are a loving, bright, caring, adventurous, and open-minded woman. Knowing Hermione as well as I do, I’d be surprised if she hasn’t already already falling for you.”

The two witches shared another look. This time, their eyes were sparkling. Harry’s heart swelled. It appeared his argument was winning the witches over.

“Well, we’d have to go on a date first,” offered Hermione.

“All three of us?” asked Harry hopefully.

“No, just Susan and I,” Hermione said, wickedly teasing him. “You said so yourself, you already feel romantic affection toward the both of us, so it’d be pointless for us to date to try and develop those feelings. On the other hand, Susan and I have to explore our feelings together if we’re going to make this relationship work.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” Susan said, noticing Harry’s disappointment. “After our date, which I’m fairly certain will be successful, we’ll come back here. Then we can all celebrate with a wild three-way shag.”

“When you put it that way,” he responded, evidently eager for the two to go on their date so they could get on to the love making.

Epilogue…

“Welcome home, Harry!” Susan greeted her husband. She waddled up to him and kissed him.

“Hello, Susan,” he said before kneeling in front of her round belly. “Hello baby.” He kissed his wife’s swollen abdomen.

“How was work? Did you enjoy your trip to Peru?”” Susan asked.

“Brilliant! The Cannons trumped the Peruvian Pick Axes. Ever since Krum joined the Cannons, they’ve actually started winning,” he said. Harry enjoyed his job as play-by-play announcer for the Wizarding Wireless Network. The pay wasn’t great, but he only worked three to four days a week which gave him plenty of time to be with his wives and family.

“Aren’t you going to say ‘hello’ to us?” Hermione asked, playfully. She held in her arms Sirius, twelve months old, and Lilly, eighteen months. Lily had her mother’s red hair and her father’s angular features while Sirius got his mother’s kinky brown hair. Thankfully for the boy, Hermione’s cat genes did not get pass down.

“Hullo, Love,” Harry said, kissing his other wife. He bent over and kissed both of his children.

“Good news; this month’s sales of the manual have doubled over last month,” informed Hermione.

“Really? Did the Japanese sales spike again?” he asked, taking Lily into his arms.

“No, oddly enough it was the Americans. A half million copies were sold in the first three weeks alone,” Susan answered.

Knowing that they’d have a big family and Harry’s salary as an announcer wouldn’t be enough, Hermione wrote a manual on how to turn someone into a cat-girl or cat-boy based on her accident. The sales from the manual were more than enough for the Potters to live comfortably.

“A half million, huh? I think that’s cause for celebration,” Harry said knowingly. “Let’s say we put these little tykes down for a kip and celebrate.”

“Oh no need; Uncle Ron and Aunt Sally-Anne are coming by to pick them up for the night,” Susan said.

“That means we can have the whole night to ourselves,” Hermione said, smiling wickedly. Her furry tail swished back and forth, telling Harry that it was almost ‘special playtime’.

“No quickies while the kids are taking a kip,” Susan licked her lips. “Tonight, we get to take turns.”

“I love it when we have enough time to take turns,” Harry said. “Oh, I’ve brought presents,” he announced jovially, digging through his pockets. He pulled out two dolls, one each for Lily and Sirius. The two toddlers snatched the dolls and hopped out of Hermione’s arms.

“And I brought another present,” Harry announced. Slowly and theatrically, he pulled a ball of yarn out of his robes and presented it to Hermione. “One hundred percent pure Peruvian yarn.”

Harry smirked as he saw Hermione’s eyes dilate from the normal slit to the maximum once she saw the yarn ball.

“You know me too well,” Hermione said before leaping at the ball, imagining the hours of fun that it held within its stringy goodness.

“Oh, don’t get too worked up with the yarn,” Susan ordered. “I’m sure Harry has some cream he wants to share with us, as well.”

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