S*x Therapy (Harry Potter)

S*x Therapy (Harry Potter)

A/N: Sex Therapy was a commissioned two-shot originally written back in March and November of 2021. Compiled it into a one-shot for readers to enjoy here!

Summary: In which Europe's premiere Magical Sex Therapist, Fleur Delacour, agrees to tackle the relationship troubles between Harry and Hermione. Little does she know, she's one hundred percent in over her head...

Themes: Big Dick, Mind Break, Dom/Sub

-x-X-x-

In one timeline, Fleur Delacour was a haughty French Witch with veela blood who grew up believing all men to be pigs. Until, of course, she attended the Triwizard Tournament with the rest of Beauxbatons and watched a certain young wizard save her sister's life after her own abysmal showing during the Second Task.

Though many might not realize it, that was a turning point for Fleur Delacour, the moment when she came to realize that not all men were worthless scum to be trodden beneath her high heels. This would in turn learn to Fleur seeking employment at Gringotts, and from there, meeting and eventually marrying Bill Weasley.

But in another timeline, one where Fleur Delacour never attended the Triwizard Tournament, that lifechanging moment at the Black Lake never occurs. Instead, this Fleur Delacour decides the Triwizard Tournament is beneath her after a talk with her mother and grandmother where the older witch and the veela assure Fleur that she will gain absolutely nothing by risking it all in such a dangerous, idiotic venture.

After all, was she not already one of the most beautiful creatures in all of France? Was she not already widely regarded as not just gorgeous, but the top of her class? And so, Fleur did not go to Hogwarts that year, and in doing so, never received the opportunity to grow as a person. Instead, she went in another direction, sitting out the whole of the Second Wizarding War that took place mostly in Britain, in favor of starting up her very own business.

Fueled by her superiority complex, the young entrepreneurial part veela went into the therapy business... sex therapy, in particular. After all, Fleur was an incredibly sexual creature in her own right. While all the boys she'd had before turned out to be decidedly pathetic, Fleur HAD had them. She'd discarded her virginity casually, rather than giving it away. She'd shed it like something out of season and ugly.

In a way, Fleur was right to be assured of her own superiority, right to be confident in her capabilities. Soon enough, she was being regarded as France's Premiere Magical Sex Therapist. Sure, most of the time her advice ended up boiling down to 'marriage sucks, get a magical dildo' (she even had a clandestine sponsorship with a company that made magic sex toys) but it was still heeded as coming from an expert.

Most of the couples she provided therapy for either ended up in divorce, or with the husband giving MUCH more attention to his wife and taking on a submissive role. This wasn't a problem, in Fleur's mind. It meshed well with her worldview that all wizards, and possibly muggles too, were pathetic creatures who needed a firm hand and a stern woman controlling their every move. Not all witches were built for that role however, which is why Fleur recommended divorce most of the time.

All that said, this would be Fleur Delacour's highest profile case yet. For the time being, she was taking them on as a private consultation, but the Magical Sex Therapist already had plans of 'accidently' leaking the session to the proper people. After all, it wasn't every day that you got a careful, under the table request from the Man-Who-Won and his girlfriend.

With a smile akin to a cat who caught the canary on Fleur's face, the part veela leads Harry Potter and Hermione Granger over to the couches that dominate the main area of her office. She directs them both to sit on one side and then sits on the other, making sure to uncross and cross her legs a couple of times to give Harry something to focus on.

To her mild surprise, he barely spares her gorgeous long legs a glance, seeming entirely too focused on Hermione. The two are holding hands, and Hermione looks somewhat distraught, while Harry looks worried on her behalf. Perhaps this will be one of the times Fleur directs her clients into a more appropriate relationship, in which Hermione is in charge and Harry is the submissive. It would certainly be rather amusing for even the Man-Who-Won to be nothing more than a boy in need of discipline.

Bringing up her notebook and her self-writing magical quill, Fleur gives the two a considering smile, letting them squirm for a long moment before finally speaking.

"Well, 'Arry Potter. 'Ermione Granger. First of all, I would be remiss in not thanking you for all you did to deal with Voldemort. Without the two of you, that mad man might have conquered the Isles and turned his sight here, to the main land. I speak for all of France I feel when I say we did not want that."

Harry ducks his head and Hermione smiles sheepishly. It's clear neither of them are that used to praise, despite being bonafide heroes. Frankly, Fleur is surprised that Harry doesn't have more of an ego on him. More than likely, the boy has a small dick and that's why his confidence is so low. Not that that's stopped many of the men Fleur has known in her life from acting tough and macho.

Regardless, it's time to get to work.

"Now, what seems to be ze problem here? Before I can properly diagnose, I must understand what I'm dealing with."

Hermione and Harry share a glance at that, Harry apologetic and Hermione wincing. Fleur waits to hear what she expects to hear, that Harry is a massive disappointment in the bedroom, that he can't keep it up longer than a couple minutes. She won't be surprised to find he's a premature ejaculator, even. The number of wizards she's had who are two pump chumps... it boggles the mind.

"I-I can't keep up!"

Fleur is already starting to nod along before her brain registers that those words, contrary to her expectations, didn't come from Harry... but from Hermione. Blinking owlishly, the part veela French witch stares at Hermione, confused.

"Pardon me?"

Flushing in embarrassment, clutching at her skirt, Hermione trembles for a moment before it's like a dam bursts and it all comes out at once.

"I can't keep up with Harry! He's too much man for any one woman to handle! I... I'm losing sleep, I'm not getting enough time to read! He keeps me up at all hours fucking away! And don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't love it, I do... but I don't know how to handle him! He's insatiable! And that's not even getting into his dick! I-is it normal for a woman to have a shallow pussy, m-maybe? No matter how hard I try, I can't take Harry's p-phallus all the way inside of me!"

Hermione is positively wailing at this point, while Harry, rather than looking smug, seems unquestionably worried for his girlfriend, rubbing soothing circles into her back as Hermione hiccups and sniffs. Fleur, meanwhile, is so taken aback that she can't even get a word out before Hermione continues on with her diatribe.

"Even when Luna comes by for a deep plowing, or that thirsty bitch Daphne tries to one up me by taking Harry's cock up her ass for hours, it's still not enough! I love Harry with all my heart, and I wish to heavens I was enough for him, but I'm j-just not!"

Hermione sobs into Harry's chest, and Harry holds her, looking apologetic. His emerald green eyes find Fleur's shocked face and he swallows thickly.

"Do you have any advice for us, Madam Delacour? I think Hermione is at the end of her rope..."

Flabbergasted, it takes far too long for Fleur to get her bearings back. In the end, her refusal to change her worldview is what lets her rally with a deep exhale and a straightening of her spine. Frowning most severely, Fleur sniffs indelicately.

"It seems to me, Ms. Granger, that you need to be shown how to handle this leetle boy. Mr. Potter, stand up and pull down your pants zis instant!"

Both young people jolt away from each other at Fleur's tone, but Harry ultimately just shrugs and get to his feet, doing as he's told. His pants come down, leaving him in just his boxers. Fleur expects to see more anxiety and fear from the boy now, after all there's only one layer left between her and his no doubt tiny cock. Why Hermione couldn't take it to the hilt, Fleur did not know. SHE'D certainly never had any issue like that.

Instead of anxiety or fear however, Harry seems perfectly comfortable standing there in nothing but his boxers. Flaring her nostrils, Fleur snaps her fingers impatiently.

"Ze boxers too! Chop, chop!"

That is to say, much of her passage has never been touched by a man's dick, making it entirely virginal in a roundabout way. And so, Harry begins the process of gouging out her cunt with his meaty poker, plowing into Fleur Delacour in a way no man has ever had the pleasure of doing before him. He fucks the French veela from behind with a considerable amount of physical might, and as Fleur's ass cheeks clap from the force of his thrusts, the gorgeous beauty finds herself cumming her brains out on his cock.

Tears streak down her cheeks once more, but not of pain or agony... but instead sheer pleasure. The entire experience, as she eats out Hermione Granger while getting fucked from behind by Harry Potter, is transcendent. It's a brand new sexual awakening for the sex therapist who thought she knew it all. After all, how could any wizard possibly match up to a witch? And how could any wizard or witch ever match up to her, a part veela?

Needless to say, Harry and Hermione are proving that belief dead wrong. Fleur's cunt clenches down on Harry's pistoning prick as she cums for him again and again while eating out Hermione's cunt with a wildly flailing, energetic tongue. In one encounter, Harry easily makes Fleur cum more times then she's quite literally ever come with a man before now. To be fair, the number of times a wizard before Harry has made her cum can be numbered on one hand, and none were with their dick, always with their tongue.

Harry's is the first cock that Fleur Delacour cums upon, and before she knows it, he's driving her wild with his dick, stirring up her insides and revealing to her a new form of pleasure in the form of getting her cervix punched in by his hefty, fat cock. Fleur's eyes roll back in her head, and her tongue wriggles around inside of Hermione's pussy nonstop as she just absolutely loses control over her mental faculties for the duration of the spit roast.

And then... just like that, it's over. Harry tips over the edge and Fleur's cunt squeezes down hard as she milks him of every last drop of his seed. She's never felt so full, her womb packed to the brim with the same amount of hit, viscous cum that landed on her face and tits before. Harry pumps her full of his seed and then pulls out, and Fleur is strangely empty afterwards, despite being completely creampied and fucked senseless.

However, just as she's trying to get her bearings back and pull away from Hermione's well-licked cunt, the brunette firms up her hold on Fleur's hair and sneers down at her.

"You didn't think we were done, did you? What did I say? Harry is way too much for one witch to handle. If he was satisfied after two measly goes, do you really think I would have come to you?"

Fleur blinks stupidly at that. A third time? H-How was that even possible? But it turns out Hermione was indeed not speaking in hyperbole when she mentioned Luna Lovegood or Daphne Greengrass or Harry's general all around insatiableness. Fleur gets a taste of this first hand when she feels Harry's hands spreading her ass cheeks wide open... and his lubricated cock plying into her back door, her asshole immediately starting to give away before his cock.

Fleur squeals into Hermione's cunt, her nose grinding against the other girl's clit as she tries to pull back, probably to say something like 't-that's the wrong hole'! But all she gets for her trouble is a loud wanton moan from Hermione as the brunette witch tilts her head back and squirts all over Fleur's face before merely grinding down again, clearly expecting the French veela to get back to work.

And so, Fleur's tight ass is slowly but surely plowed by Harry's massive cock. It is slow going at first, her back door even more virginal than her cunt had been to Harry's sizable member. Fleur had experimented with anal of course, mostly using toys. She'd certainly never let a man back there before; no man had ever proven worthy.

And yet, here she was, losing her anal virginity all the same to Harry Potter, the Man-Who-Won. Fleur's eyes cross and her nostrils flare as he forces his way into her bowels and then begins the process of reshaping them to be a perfect cocksleeve for his member with constant, powerful thrusts from his fat dick.

He's soon slamming home into her ass with the same speed and intensity that he fucked her cunt, and all Fleur can do is whimper into Hermione's pussy as she's soundly fucked into oblivion.

"That's it, Harry. You like that veela ass? Fuck her harder! Fucking wreck this stuck up French bitch!"

And wreck her Harry does. And love it Fleur does. Unable to help herself, unable to stop it from overwhelming her, Fleur is soon orgasming from getting anally pounded into the floor of her own office. On her hands and knees, bent over with her face in Hermione's cunt and her ass high in the air to receive Harry's cock, the sex therapist's eyes roll back in her head once more as she orgasms again and again, squirting out a mixture of her own pussy juices and Harry's seed all over the floor.

For his part, Harry doesn't let up for even a moment. Hermione bids him to continue, and continue he does, fucking Fleur into oblivion, pounding her asshole into the shape of his cock, leaving it gaping from the sheer size of his massive member. He fucked her silly when he creampied her cunt... but he outright breaks her when he fucks her ass.

Fleur loses all track of time after that, barely even noticing when Harry cums in her ass, save for the change in positions. After he creampies her back door the same as he did her cunt, Fleur is flipped over onto her back, where Hermione grabs hold of her tits and wraps them around Harry's cock, using Fleur's breasts to give him a titfuck while the two of them make out atop Fleur's splayed form. Then, Harry fucks each of Fleur's holes a SECOND time, bringing it to seven total rounds before they stop.

By the time they decide they're done, Fleur is a blubbering, cum-coated, shuddering mess of a woman. Ruined, utterly unrecognizable from the French witch who was considered by most in France and even in other parts of the world to be the newest up and coming expert on sex and magical relationships, Fleur Delacour lay there in a puddle of her own juices mixed with Harry and Hermione's and was left wondering where the hell she'd gone wrong. How... how had this happened to her?

And yet, as Fleur lays there on the carpet of her wrecked office, just as equally wrecked and barely conscious, she hears the last things Harry and Hermione say to one another before they depart through her private floo. Dripping in cum, she listens as Harry delivers a casual remark to his girlfriend that utterly destroys the last remnants of Fleur's self-esteem and ego.

"What did you think, Harry? Worth coming back for a second visit?"

"I think... I think veela are incredibly overrated and I'm not even close to satisfied yet. Better call over Daphne and Luna, Mione... all that slut back there did was rile me up. Gonna be an all hands on deck kind of night."

"The things I do for you~"

Hermione lets out a fond, exasperated sigh at that, before giggling as Harry claps a hand on her ass and pulls her in for a smooch before positively growling his response.

"You know you love it."

And then the floo flares up and the two are gone, returned home, leaving Fleur to try to pick up the pieces of her shattered psyche and reassess her utterly obliterated world view.

Overrated... not satisfied... failure...

Fleur whimpers, even as she lays there on her back, her hands unconsciously moving to play with her incredibly well-fucked, cum-covered body. Consciousness leaves her shortly after that.

-x-X-x-

“That brutish wizard! ‘Ow dare ‘e use you up and zen discard you like so much trash! Zis insult to the Delacour Veela will not stand!”

Despite being a full-grown woman in her own right, Fleur Delacour simply hangs her head, whimpering as her mother, Apolline Delacour, rages on in front of her. After her... encounter with Harry and Hermione, Fleur had done the only thing she felt she could do... she’d gone crying to her mother over the slight done to her person.

Needless to say, Apolline was outraged at the insult to her daughter, just as Fleur had hoped. Of course, she had also given Fleur a dressing down for failing to stand up for herself and for not managing to have Harry wrapped around her little finger by the end of their interaction. Honestly, as far as the Delacour Matriarch was concerned, there was absolutely no reason for a veela of Fleur’s stature to fall to a wizard and his pet witch. No reason whatsoever.

Still, the majority of Apolline’s ire was directed at Harry. The Amazonian-esque silver-blonde beauty was beside herself with anger. Not only had the brute ravished and insulted Fleur, but he also hadn’t even bothered to call her back!

Well, Apolline wasn’t about to let this stand, that was for sure.

“Come along, daughter. We’re going to pay a visit to zis wizard.”

Of course, before they floo over to Potter Manor to deal with the ‘little boy’ who now owns it, Apolline makes sure she’s more than ready for anything one measly wizard can throw at her. Drinking down two potions of stamina and oiling up her rocking, swimsuit-model body, the Delacour Matriarch is large and in charge as she steps through the floo with a clear and concise ‘Potter Manor!’ on her lips, a chastised Fleur in tow.

As the two of them come out into the Manor Home’s study, a House Elf appears to waylay them.

“Misses Delacours, please wait patiently for the Master to...”

“Silence, Elf! I refuse to wait! Where iz ‘e? Where iz the boorish boy who ‘as so insulted my darling Fleur?!”

Positively rampaging out of the room, Apolline doesn’t wait for the House Elf to respond... and thus doesn’t see the eager smirk cross the elf’s features as he lets her go, rather than using any of his considerable magic to keep her where she is. After all, the Potter Elves are all under certain orders to allow striking and beautiful witches to... ‘confront’ Harry.

Of course, Harry might have changed those orders, if he’d known right that moment that the Delacours were coming. As it is, the young Potter Lord is left very annoyed when Apolline barges into the next room over to find him giving Hermione and Susan mutually sexy rubdowns of their tits and asses. While he’s still in shorts, it’s quite obvious from the moaning of the two witches as well as his sticky fingers, exactly where it was all going.

Gritting his teeth and turning towards the intruders, Harry’s eyes slide up and down Apolline Delacour before he greets her rather testily.

“Yes? What is the meaning of this intrusion?”

Not one to be put off by a slightly annoyed little brat, Apolline crosses her arms over her perfectly sculpted chest and sniffs haughtily, looking down her nose at Harry.

“I demand an audience, Lord Potter! As Lady Delacour, I will not stand for the insult paid to my daughter!”

Glancing over at Fleur, who blushes and averts her gaze shyly, Harry finally steps away from Hermione and Susan, letting out a soft chuckle as he just stands there in his shorts, chiseled body otherwise entirely on display, and hands slick and glistening with oil and... other sticky fluids.

“Your daughter did her best... her best just wasn’t good enough to handle ME.”

Fleur flinches back at the reminder of her failure, even as Apolline’s nostrils flare and her back goes ramrod straight.

“You certainly zink very highly of yourself, ‘Arry Potter! If zat iz ze case, you will not refuse mine own challenge!”

Before Harry can even respond, what with how Apolline’s French Accent is even thicker and harder to parse than Fleur’s, the Delacour Matriarch lashes out with her wand, and he finds his shorts banished without a second thought. As his cock, half-hard at most, flops free, Apolline’s eyes dart down to it and widen almost imperceptibly. Fleur had told her, of course, what she was dealing with... but admittedly, she’d thought that her daughter was exaggerating.

However, as Harry’s cock, now exposed to open air, gets harder and harder in the presence of so many beautiful women, Apolline is forced to revise her previous thoughts. Fleur was not exaggerating. If anything, she’d underestimated the size of the mammoth member that so destroyed her. In hindsight, Apolline should have been a bit nicer to her daughter.

That did not mean the Delacour Matriarch was going to back down, however. It was time for this... this boy (for she could not call him ‘little’ anymore knowing what she knew now) to learn his place!

“Do your worst, ‘Arry Potter! Come and show me what ze Potters are capable of... if you aren’t afraid!”

Harry raises an eyebrow... but in the end, doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he responds with actions. A flicker of his own wand, and Apolline is completely naked as well. The gorgeous silver-blonde veela just smirks at this... after all, she was ready for it. The oiling she’d done ahead of time has prepared her body for nudity perfectly. She positively glistens and glimmers in the room’s artificial light, and even the two witches that Harry was with, Hermione and Susan, can’t help but gasp at her blinding beauty.

For his part, Harry’s eyes trail up and down the Delacour Matriarch again, this time with even more appreciation in his gaze. Even still, he does not back down. Striding forward, the confident young wizard reaches out and grabs one of Apolline’s tits without a second thought, tugging her up to him.

Their bodies end up pressed together in the middle of the room as they make eye contact and become locked in a battle of wills and sexual delights. Harry’s hands are all over Apolline’s body... and the older veela MILF welcomes them. After all, she is nothing if not a sexual creature. Having a man touch her is par for the course for the Delacour Matriarch. Her body was MADE to be worshipped by lowly wizards and ogled by even lowlier muggles.

In the muggle world, she’d spent decades as the top one percent of models. She hadn’t stopped because her beauty had diminished either, but because by muggle aging standards, her beauty SHOULD have been diminishing. To avoid damaging the statute of secrecy, she’d had to retire and act like she was too old to continue modeling.

Of course, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Not only was she a witch, but she was also a veela first and foremost... and veela kept their beauty for their entire lives. She would be exactly this perfectly pristine and gorgeous fifty years from now as she was today, as she had been decades before.

It galls her, partially, to have to let this arrogant, overconfident wizard touch her. But he needs to know... Fleur was undertrained and inexperienced. Oh sure, by wizarding standards Fleur was a mature adult woman with a career as a world-renowned Sex Therapist. But by veela standards, Fleur was still playing around, still finding her footing in their world.

Apolline, on the other hand, was very secure in her own sexuality and the knowledge that she was impossibly gorgeous.

And so, even when Harry reaches around to deliver harsh, repetitive smacks to her oiled up ass, or reaches down between her legs to massage her clit... Apolline just smirks at him, not giving him the satisfaction of any other reaction. She barely even pinks up from his childish and altogether inexperienced attempts at foreplay.

He might have a huge cock, but he’s clearly just as young and unaware of how the world works as her daughter.

“You ‘ave no leg to stand on, ‘Arry. Apologize for ze insult done to my family, and I will consider showing you a few tricks and tips~”

Brow furrowing, face dropping into frown of concentration, Harry obviously isn’t about to give up. To be fair, Apolline would have been disappointed if he had. Instead, the veela MILF lets out a throaty chuckle as Harry grabs her and holds her in place, lifting one of her legs up into the air so she’s doing a standing split. Apolline even assists him in creating easy access to her glistening pussy, her arm coming around to wrap her leg and lock it in place.

A moment later and he’s inside of her, gripping tightly at her body and railing her in a standing fuck right there in the middle of the room. Admittedly, his cock is the biggest Apolline has ever had. She can see why he gave Fleur so much trouble now, can imagine how the younger veela was completely caught off guard and overwhelmed by the pleasure.

And indeed, Apolline is experiencing her own amount of incredibly pleasure and ecstasy at the moment. Her face goes from pink to red as she becomes flushed, her breathing turning from even to panting as Harry slams up into her again and again, ramming the entrance to her womb with his cockhead like a battering ram at the gates, plowing her standing up like it’s no issue whatsoever.

He’s very big and very sure of himself... but when all you have is a hammer, every problem begins looking like a nail. Apolline Delacour... is no nail! Even as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm her, even as the first of what would likely be endless wanton moans threatens to leave her lips... Apolline pulls it all back.

This was the true strength of a fully trained, fully realized Veela Matriarch. Men could be so sure of themselves and their sexual prowess, but it was rare to meet a raw talent like Harry Potter, one with a huge cock and the drive to use it to break witches to his will. Judging by the presence of the two young ladies behind him, he was already in the process of collecting a harem.

However, that did NOT mean he was ready to stand up to a Veela Matriarch like Apolline Delacour. She can see the moment he realizes as much; can see the instant he recognizes that his effort to rail her into senseless oblivion is currently getting nowhere. A growl of frustration leaves his throat and Apolline’s eyes twinkle with mischief and excitement.

She came here to put Harry Potter in his place... but now, she has to admit, she’s a little intrigued. She wants him... she wants to keep him.

“Ze offer iz still open, ‘Arry. Submit and we shall forget zis entire debacle ever took place.”

“Shut up!”

Abruptly pulling out of Apolline’s cunt, Harry grabs her by the hair and yanks her down to the ground. She goes down on her knees hard, coming face to face with his cock as a gasp leaves her lips, spreading them just wide enough for him to ram his way in. As he yanks her down his member by her hair, beginning to savagely face fuck her right there on the spot... the blonde MILF’s eyes continue to glitter, knowing she has him on the ropes now.

“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”

It doesn’t matter that she’s choking on his cock on her knees in front of her daughter and two other witches. They all know... she’s winning. Her tongue slides along the underside of Harry’s thick fat dick, and though involuntary tears streak down the perfect, beautiful veela’s cheeks, running through her makeup and mascara, she cares not. Even as drool and saliva and slobber in truly humiliating amounts drools down onto her tits, she’s not humiliated.

She maintains her composure even now, even as Harry most definitely does not. Like the good French whore, she is, Apolline can handle Harry’s cock, no matter how massive it is, no matter where he decides to stick it.

In the background, Fleur cheers on her mother. Meanwhile, Hermione and Susan look amused. In her head, Apolline no doubt thinks that the two witches are amused because she’s showing up their man, because they’re secretly laughing at Harry on the inside. With one smooth move, she’s ruining Harry’s standing with his women, breaking the boy down piece by piece so he’ll have to come crawling to HER for more.

At least, that’s what’s going through Apolline’s head, as she chokes and gags and gurgles down Harry’s huge cock. Her lips stretch wide and her throat flexes and clenches down on his member until finally, the young wizard lets out a grunt and proceeds to cum right down her throat. Even as his seed explodes out the sides of her mouth and out her nostrils, Apolline knows she’s won this round.

And from the way Harry pulls away with a snarl, he knows it too. As he steps away from her for a short break or what have you, Apolline staggers to her feet, smirking confidently and victoriously through the cum on her lower face.

“Face ze facts, ‘Arry Potter! You ‘ave met your match!”

Looking back at her... he suddenly seems calmer than she expected, calmer than he was a moment ago. Smirking, Harry tilts his head in acknowledgment.

“Maybe... but I’m not done yet. Unless you can’t keep going?”

Stiffening at the insult, Apolline sneers.

“You are a precocious boy, ‘Arry Potter! I will enjoy breaking you!”

Outright chuckling now, Harry snaps his fingers.

“Hermione... Susan... prepare her for the full experience.”

Apolline frowns at that, about to call out that their challenge should be between the two of them and them alone. But before she can, the two witches that were with Harry when she so rudely barged in are already upon her. The Delacour Matriarch, as beautiful and confident and arrogant as she is, is not much of a physical fighter.

And so, she finds herself wrestled down to the ground by the two witches, disarmed of her wand and taken for something of a ride. Even as Apolline tries to protest, they’re lubing her up even more, with Susan paying special attention to her butthole with both fingers and tongue. Meanwhile, Hermione is seemingly in charge of keeping her quiet, stuffing fingers into her mouth any time Apolline tries to speak, while groping and squeezing her huge mommy milkers whenever she’s not raising a fuss.

In the end, the Delacour Matriarch settles down and lets the two witches have their way with her. Their hands are even more inexperienced than Harry’s, truth be told. They’re all so young, and if Harry thinks that these two witches are going to give him the leg up that he needs for a Round Two, he’ll be in for a nasty surprise.

Especially if he thinks his big damn trump card is anal sex. The French had all but invented anal, and it was veela who had perfected the lurid sex art! Apolline Delacour was an old hand at anal sex, and even if she’d never taken a cock as big as Harry’s up her back door before, she was still more than ready for the experience... practically looking forward to it, even.

“You’re right, of course. I am a precocious boy... and it’s obvious to me now that you’re something more than your daughter. Fleur was a wimp, but you... I’ve got to bring out the big guns for you. And who better to call upon... then men who have already tamed you?”

It takes a moment for Harry’s words to fully process, not least of which because of how distracting his witches are both being. When Apolline finally comprehends what he’s said... she’s more confused than she was before. Eyebrows fully furrowed even as Hermione lowers her mouth to one of Apolline’s tits and Susan continues tonguing out her asshole, the pinned down Delacour Matriarch can only watch as Harry casts a spell.

A visibly rent in space appears a few feet away, a portal cracking open that baffles Apolline even further. Who could he possibly mean? No men had ever tamed her in her entire long life! There was no one for him to-!

Her thoughts are abruptly cut off as multiple older-looking Harry Potters step through the portal one by one. Wicked grins on their faces and glittering emerald eyes are the only truly shared features between them all. They all have some similarities of course, but the fact remains... these are all Harrys from various parts of his life span, come back in time to help out their Junior. Some have facial hair; some even have a wrinkle or two there.

Every single one is built like a tank however, and their eyes light up even further when they see her on the floor, pinned beneath Hermione and Susan.

“Oh, this is THAT time! Heh, this is gonna be great.”

“One of our greatest challenges. Madam Apolline Delacour.”

“She’s not so great once we get through with her...”

Three of the Harrys break off and reach her just as Hermione and Susan is pulling away. Needless to say, Apolline tries to escape, she tries to apparate out the moment that she’s not being held in place anymore. Unfortunately, she’s trapped herself by coming here, as the Potter Manor’s Wards keep her in place, refusing to let anyone apparate in or out as a matter of security.

“Zis iz not a fair challenge! ‘Arry! You dishonor yourself with zis display! I-mmph!”

“Oh, shut up you veela slut. You always did act so fucking haughty before you got some dick in you.”

The Harry with a goatee has grabbed her by her head and shoved his thick, massive cock back down her throat in the midst of her building diatribe. Unfortunately, Apolline can do nothing but choke on it, his size making it impossible for her to even bite down as he begins to throat fuck her right then and there even more violently then the younger Harry did.

“GLUGHK! GLUGHK! GLUGHK!”

Meanwhile, the other two Harrys who have approached move into position as well. One lifts her up bodily into the air so she’s at a parallel angle with the one fucking her face, allowing the third to slide into place under her. A moment later, and she’s taking Harry’s thick, throbbing cock in ALL three or her holes. Now, she could have handled him in any one of her orifices. She HAD handled him in both her cunt and mouth and had been ready for anal as well.

The Veela Matriarch was NOT prepared for this. She was not ready for a bunch of big, burly, chiseled men to bury her beneath their strong bodies and fuck her silly in every single orifice at once. And indeed, that’s exactly what they do, the trio of older Harrys fucking Apolline Delacour without mercy, gurgling choked moans soon filling the room as she’s overwhelmed and left squirting by the press of hunky bodies and too big cock filling her every last orifice.

As the younger witches watch on, Apolline isn’t just fucked into oblivion, she’s fucked until she’s too exhausted to move. Meanwhile, there are still two more Harrys that stepped out of the portal that the original Harry had made. Rather than join their fellows in putting the Veela Matriarch in her place, they stride over to Fleur, each with matching knowing grins on their faces.

“Hey there, pet. Good to see you again.”

“Always nice when the bitches come crawling back to you for more, isn’t it?”

Blushing profusely, Fleur doesn’t fight them as they casually and calmly begin stripping her out of her clothing the old fashioned way. Still, she does whimper and try to deny their words.

“I-I am not your p-pet! I am ze p-proud daughter of Apolline Delacour! I did not come crawling back f-for more!”

The two Harrys from the future exchange a look past her and then laugh.

“Sure, you didn’t, sweetheart.”

“Babe, we’re from the future... which means you already told us a while ago how, deep down, you were hoping your mother would bite off more than she could chew, and Harry would put her in her place, just like he put you in yours.”

Fleur’s mouth opens and closes like a goldfish at that declaration, the younger veela’s silence telling as she finds herself unable to formulate a response. Time travel simply wasn’t fair. In this case, she couldn’t deny it... not when he was one hundred percent right. Luckily, Fleur’s mouth isn’t left unoccupied for much longer anyways. Having stripped her completely naked by this point, the two Harrys bend her forward and she finds herself spit-roasted between them.

One big fat cock slides right down her throat, making the gorgeous veela sex therapist choke hard on his massive member. The other slams right into her cunt, lifting Fleur off the ground in the process, her arms and legs both dangling in the air between them as she’s caught between the two huge dicks. Her eyes are soon rolling back in her head, and her tongue is writhing uselessly along the underside of the huge prick buried in her esophagus.

Bouncing the two of them between them, the Harrys glance over to their Junior and grin, giving him a pair of thumbs up that he chuckles and returns.

Watching on from the sidelines, the original Harry just smiles as his older selves all do what he technically could not. But then... they ARE him in the end, just him from several different points in their shared timelines. One of them might only be a couple years older, one might be a decade older, one might be several decades older.

Hell, going off of what the oldest Harry looked like, he was pretty sure he was going to age spectacularly, that was for sure. Admittedly, the spell was somewhat untested. This was his first time using it, though from what one of the older Harrys had said, he could tell already that it wouldn’t be the last.

As he stands there watching, Hermione and Susan remind him of their presence. The two regular witches crawl over and begins to lick at his balls and suck at his cock. Gorgeous in their own rights, the brunette and red head stare up at him with wonder-filled, awestruck eyes. To be fair, it wasn’t every day that you got to see such an incredible display of pure, unadulterated magical power.

It was only thanks to his immense magic that Harry could do something like this in the first place... and keep it contained. There WAS a risk of imploding the universe with this sort of magic... but nah, it’d probably be fine. The initial portal Harry had made was a little unstable... only a little... and when the older Harrys had accepted his invitation and come on through, they’d stabilized it further, adding their own power to the spell and making it impossible to fail.

Was that cheating, just a little bit? Was it bullshit of the highest caliber? Was it patently unfair that Harry could draw on not just his own immense pool of magic, but also that of five of his future selves to increase his power by six fold?

Perhaps. Certainly, Apolline Delacour seemed to think so. But it didn’t look like the Veela Matriarch was doing much thinking of any sort anymore. Looking over at her, watching her fucked silly expression as she lewdly absently sucks on the cock in her mouth while getting railed in her ass and cunt, Harry can admit that Apolline gave him a serious run for his money.

Doesn’t mean he’s going to bother with silly things like sportsmanship or notions of fairness, however. He hasn’t forgotten how she barged into his home uninvited and interrupted him in the middle of his play with Hermione and Susan. After how long it’d taken to get the straight-laced Susan Bones properly corrupted and into his and Hermione’s bed, to say Harry was annoyed would actually be an understatement.

Apolline Delacour was going to pay... and in fact, Harry knew exactly how he was going to do it. Sliding his eyes over to Fleur Delacour, he notes the two Harrys spit-roasting her both giving him a nod. Meaning that his plan was exactly what he should be doing, because it was what his older selves remembered doing.

With Hermione and Susan’s attentions to his dick and balls, the original Harry is rock hard and ready for action in no time. Much to the dismay of the two witches who got him that way, he pulls away from them once he’s good to go. Smiling down at them, he runs his hands through their hair to let him know he hasn’t forgotten them entirely... he just has a pair of uppity French bitches to handle first.

Stepping over to Fleur, he arrives just in time for the Harry fucking Fleur’s face to pull away and move over to join the dogpile on Apolline. As he moves into position, the Harry who’s been getting Fleur’s cunt nice and ready for him lifts her up into the air, pinning her legs behind her ears as he pulls her off of his cock, only to take her anally instead.

The Sex Therapist squeals like a maiden, her eyes rolling back in her head as her pussy squirts all over Harry’s abdomen. Snorting derisively, Harry reaches for her, sandwiching her between himself and... well, himself. As his cock nudges the entrance to her cunt, Fleur recovers enough to look at him and realize he’s the Real Deal, the Original Harry from this part of the timeline.

“Heard what they said to you, Fleur. If you really want me so badly... then I’ll give you all of me, you uppity French brat.”

Thrusting into her a moment later, Harry fucks Fleur with a ferocity unmatched by their last time together. Fleur’s eyes widen and she shrieks as he proceeds to pound her as hard and fast as he can, fully intent on breeding her today.

That was the plan, as it were. He was going to assimilate the Delacour Veela into his growing harem, by knocking up both their heiress and their Matriarch in one fell swoop. Fleur was first... and her mother would be next. Given the current state they were both in, there was no way for either of them to fight back. Harry was going to have his way with both of them again and again and again.

But hey, it would be an excellent learning experience for Europe’s premier Sex Therapist! Fleur Delacour would finally become a mama... as she was knocked up with Harry Potter’s baby.

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