The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic, and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story. Where would be the fun in that?
A/N: A peek into Harry’s part of the Bespoke AU.
Life was excellent, thought Harry with a good-natured grin. It was peace and family and the prospect of a happy life. It was also four glorious tits to be fondled and two pussies to be filled, both things he couldn’t seem to get enough of these days. He looked at the two lovely witches sleeping in his bed. His witches.
The last year had been a good one in more ways than one. He’d sent the Dark Lord to hell for the final time, enjoyed an entire school year without intrigue or malevolent teachers, and finally had time to discover the heretofore fantasized charms of the very receptive opposite sex . He’d worked his way through a willing crowd of witches who didn’t seem to mind that his only interest was to scratch an all-consuming itch. And his status as war hero to the wizarding world meant that he could do so very nearly wherever and whenever he liked, so long as he remembered to keep things relatively censored for the younger students. That was what Disillusionment charms and Notice-Me-Nots were for, though; the many loopholes afforded by magic caused him to grin to himself. So what if the majority of upperclassmen could see past those spells? He had nothing to hide.
He looked at the beautiful redhead to his right, her pale flawless skin set in stunning contrast to the dark green sheets of his bed. His Ginny. She’d been reticent to take their relationship further than chaste kisses after the war, regardless of the fact that Harry was constantly hard and begging for more. And beg he did; begged even for the small privilege of touching her over her clothes, and for her to do the same to him. “I’m confused,” she’d said in a small voice. “I want you, Harry, but there’s something else I want, too.” That was all she’d say, and in the end she’d asked for time and given him the freedom to see other witches.
They’d remained joined at the hip whenever possible, eating side by side and studying together in the Gryffindor common room. Luna Lovegood invariably joined them, curled up against Ginny’s other side. The two witches had become close after the war; how close was hard to say, but Harry certainly wasn’t in a position to judge. Besides, Luna was wise and lovable, had curves to make any wizard twitch in his pants, and the looks she shared with Ginny when the two thought he wasn’t looking were the stuff of x-rated wet dreams. The only time Harry left the comfort of their presence was when he needed to scratch his insatiable itch.
And how he’d needed! He’d needed to latch his mouth to any offered tit and stick his fingers into any available cunt. He’d needed to be sucked off between classes in empty classrooms. And when the itch got worse, he’d needed to fuck the lights out of at least one witch after every meal.
The queue of discreet witches who wanted to help out a war hero in need was a long one; they came prepared with contraception spells and no expectations of anything other than the chance to discover whether or not the reverent whispers were true. They were. Harry brought only his boyish charm, a pocketful of Muggle condoms, and his now-legendary size and stamina. He’d have thought it was a sickness, except that Madame Pomfrey had set him straight during his first and only quest for help.
“You’re the last of a strong wizarding House, Mr. Potter,” she’d said as if the constant need to rut was a normal thing. Apparently it was. “You’re going to feel this way until you’ve established the continuation of your line.” At his confused look she clarified, “Made babies who can legally carry your name.”
He vividly remembered the despair he’d felt at those words. “I just want Ginny Weasley, but she isn’t ready.”
“Then be sure to tell her that at every chance you get. In the mean time, wrap it before you tap it.” Madame Pomfrey had patted his hand in an understanding way and given him unrestricted access to her supply of condoms, adding, “You know, dear, you’re allowed a harem with your status. It might not be a bad idea to take more than one wife.”
Harry had enough Pureblood friends to have learned that many of the old ways were still very much in practice in the wizarding world. The Sacred Twenty-Eight had their bespoke witches and House marriages, for one. The other, lesser, Pureblood Houses held the right to harem-based households in the threat of extinction. Still, he wondered what kind of household dynamic would result from not one but two witches in the same bed every night. They’d have to get along like a house on fire, that was for sure.
He continued to spend his time with Ginny and Luna, enjoying the way the three of them seemed to complete each other. The blonde Ravenclaw was the gentle yin to Ginny’s fierce yang, acquiescing to her redheaded friend’s demands more often than not. As a result, an unspoken chain of command was set between the three of them, with Harry at the top, Luna at the bottom, and Ginny happily in between. Ginny purred, Luna glowed, and once in a while Harry wondered what it would be like to share a bed with the two of them.
Still deep in his memories, Harry reached out and ran his hand over Ginny’s bare breasts. They were small, barely enough to fill his palms, but round and firm and tipped with the prettiest nipples he’d ever seen. He felt his cock stir beneath the coverlet and removed his hand with a sigh. There was no need to wake her early for something that would only be bettered with anticipation. He returned to his memories.
He’d taken Madame Pomfrey’s advice to heart, wooing his Ginny with romance at every turn. When that didn’t work he began a seduction based on desperation, in which he made sure she was in the vicinity of his dirty deeds whenever possible. Eyes trained only on her, he’d suck and tug and thrust and, in the throes of each release he would mouth her name. He watched as each day she came closer, eyes riveted on what he did. Those beautiful eyes grew more lust-filled with each voyeuristic encounter until the night of the Gryffindor party, when she’d dragged him out of the tower to the empty castle corridor.
Hardly daring to hope, Harry had stopped and tried his best not to think about Ginny’s mouth, or her pert little breasts, or her tight little arse. He held her gaze, and at her words all rational thought fled his mind. She’d said, “I need to show you something.” He’d nodded his head manically and almost swallowed his own tongue when she added, “I’m a switch witch. Come here, Lu.”
Luna had materialized as if from thin air and approached Ginny with her head down. The redhead, whose posture had suddenly gone from uncertain to commanding, had taken her friend by the chin in a dominating gesture and forced her to make eye contact. “Be a good girl and kiss me.”
The two witches shared a soft, wet kiss that forced an embarrassing squeak from Harry, Ginny’s hands running over the blonde witch’s lush curves. She pulled back and looked at him. “I want to be with you, but I want this, too. Can she join us?”
Harry didn’t care in that moment whether Ginny was asking for a single act or forever. It didn’t matter to him. “Anything for the two of you.” The seed Madame Pomfrey had sown months earlier sprouted, and Harry realized that two wives – and two whom he already adored – was a superior solution to his itch. He smiled broadly at his two girls. “Now who’s going to help with this tent in my trousers?”
When they were discovered shirtless by the rest of the partygoers (who had fled Gryffindor tower when Ron drunkenly set the common room’s tapestried wall coverings afire) just a few minutes later, Harry had released his mouth from Ginny’s pretty pink nipple with a loud, wet smacking sound, hands still kneading Luna’s fantastic breasts and an easygoing smile on his face. The girls had been irritated at the interruption and quickly dragged him to his bedroom. And that, as they say, was that.
Harry’s cock was throbbing from his reminiscing. He looked at the lovely blonde witch lying on her stomach beside him. He pushed the covers down further, exposing her plush, rounded bottom and curving hips.
Luna sighed and wiggled her bum under his hand as she whispered, “Good morning Harry. Will you give me an orgasm?” She looked at him with eyes that were wide and wonder-filled even at this early hour.
Harry groaned at the innocently asked question and moved to cover his blonde witch’s body with his own. Pushing his hand between her parted thighs, he murmured, “Of course I will. Spread your legs, love. And try to be quiet; Ginny’s still sleeping.”
Luna raised her hips into the air and spread her legs apart even further. She looked over her shoulder at him with a sparkling, slightly batty smile. “I’d like it rough this time.”
He wrapped her long hair around his hand and gave it a good tug as he shoved into her wet opening without warning. Between punishing thrusts he managed to mark her neck with a large lovebite, earning him a feminine whimper of pleasure. As soon as he felt her climax, he quickly followed. Climbing off Luna he lay beside her, pulling her into his arms. “How’s our baby today? Did the two of you sleep well?” He ran a hand over the barely-there swell of her stomach.
Luna hummed contentedly. “He’s well. And yes, we did. I dreamed about you wearing black leather pants again.”
Harry breathed a quiet laugh. Merlin bless Ravenclaw house and its witches! His Luna was about three ingredients short of a potion in some ways, but never had he met a witch with sharper insight or gentler personality, nor a libido to match his own. “Maybe I should dig them out and wear them later.”
Ginny was watching them with sleepy eyes, a contented smile on her lovely mouth. “Mmmmmm, you started without me. Shall I take care of myself?” She was already sliding a hand down under the covers.
Harry caught her hand quickly with a grin. “Absolutely not. I’m ready when you are.”
The redhead fought his strong grip. “Will you let me be on top this time?”
He was already sliding over and taking Luna along with him, knowing she wasn’t nearly satisfied. “Tell you what: you ride my cock and Lu can do the same to my face if she likes.” It seemed Luna did, judging by her squeal of joy. Harry rolled onto his back, grinning at the prospect of scratching his itch yet again with his girls. Yes, life was excellent.