Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Animal Instinct	By : Thundergod17 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 24495 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: All the characters are 18 or above. J K owns Harry Potter not me.

Chapter List
- 1-Magnetism
- 2-Vengeance
- 1
- 2
Animal Instinct

HP doesn’t belong to me.
Hogwarts starts at 15 at this AU making every character 18+.

Harry Potter trudged down the staircases of the Burrow lethargically, having slept for barely a couple of hours before his empty stomach woke him up.

Well, I did spend a whole lot of energy last night.

Or is it this morning?

Hmmm…

Who fucking cares.

Putting the degenerate Weasley matriarch in an orgasming coma, Harry sneaked back to his room at the crack of dawn, not caring about whether she would be caught by her family, lying in a pool of thick yellow dried crusts of Hippogriff swimmers.

Would serve that bitch right though…

Climbing down the last few steps, he winced at Ron’s loud whining,

“Mom, how long? I am starving.”

Shaking his head at his best friend’s unmitigable hunger, Harry potter entered the Weasley kitchen, greeting everyone at the table.

Looking up at the woman, puttering behind the kitchen counter, Harry couldn’t help but smirk at her waddling like a baby duck, and wincing every few steps.

Arthur’s concerned gaze implied that he was not the only one to notice her stiff movements.
Remembering a certain instance from his encounter with the Weasley milf, Harry enquired Arthur about a particular topic.

“Mr. Weasley, do you know anything about a certain ‘imperio’ spell?”

Molly’s stiffening was expected but the wide eyes and the wincing of the others at the table sure increased his unease.

“What! How did you come across that spell, Harry?” the normally amicable Weasley patriarch leaned forward in his seat, an uncharacteristic serious look in his eyes. “That’s very dark magic!”

“Ohh?” Eyebrows raised in apparent interest; Harry mimicked elder Weasley’s posture, lying through his teeth. “How exactly? I came across the term in a defense textbook.”

Wiping his sweaty face with a handkerchief, a suddenly apprehensive Arthur checked around the table to see every face looking toward him in interest, anticipating his answer.

Only, his wife seemed too busy cooking to pay any attention to the riveting discussion.

“Imperius curse is an unforgivable curse, one of the three. One use of which against a fellow human is a one-way ticket to Azkaban for a lifetime.” His grave
voice echoed around the kitchen, ringing like a haunting bell into the silence. “You-know-Who used that curse liberally during the first war, inciting panic into the masses and the Ministry.”

Though everyone seemed afraid to break the grave silence that had permeated the kitchen after Mr. Weasley’s declaration, Harry had no such compunctions.

Thinking for a few seconds to deliver the proper gravitas on his implied threat,
“And what about other animals?” Harry elaborated at everyone’s quizzical looks, vision following the busty Weasley wife. “You said against fellow humans -- How about say someone’s pet or a wild animal?”

A sharp intake of breath from the cooking station attracted everyone’s gaze toward a nervous Molly Weasley, having cut her finger with a kitchen knife.

“Molly!’

“Mom!”

A cacophony of panicked shouts reverberated around the small space, making Harry almost wince.

The Weasley matriarch tried to smile reassuringly toward her family, though her expression looked more like a pained grimace.

“..mkay.” Molly’s mumbled assurance settled everyone except a green-eyed young man, who could already visualize a dozen different ways to take revenge against the Weasley matriarch.

Unfortunately, Molly’s willing or unwilling interference diverted the attention of the whole table, or maybe,

The heaping plates of food that she put on the table.

Shaking his head at their predictable behavior, Harry dug into his plate of fried eggs and hash browns, almost moaning at the perfectly crisped strips of bacon.

Maybe the only redeeming quality of this shameless whore is her cooking.

And taking dicks, of course.

After the departure of Arthur and Percy Weasley to the ministry and the twin terrors to their friend Lee Jordan’s house, the current occupiers of the kitchen debated how to spend the next few hours.

Wanting his friends out of the house, so he can have an honest talk with the woman in the kitchen, Harry discreetly waved his wand and summoned two brooms.

“Blimey”

“Is that ….?”

With a sussing motion of his index finger, Harry reverently pushed the Firebolt towards Ginny, while giving a still-gaping Ron a brand-new Nimbus 2000.

“Mate, what’s this?”

Hearing the slight jealousy in his best friend’s voice, Harry quickly explained himself, hoping to mollify him.

“I don’t want to hear Draco’s whining about my broom’s superiority as the cause of his defeat this year,” Harry replied pointedly, “So the next time I beat him, nobody would doubt my ability without the Firebolt.”

Watching his best friend still blinking like an owl in stupefaction, Harry turned toward Ginny, ignoring the redness that spread out on her pale cheeks at his pointed attention.

“Why don’t you two head outside and practice with my brooms?” Harry gently implored, “Gryffindor will need good chasers and keepers in the upcoming years.”

Looking around for his female best friend, Harry saw her head buried in a thick book, ignoring the whole world, still sitting at her breakfast chair.

Typical Hermione.

“Oh, and do take Hermione with you.” Harry smiled charmingly at the smitten redheaded girl, “Or she will sit there for the whole day.”

“Mate, what are you going to do?” Finally, Ron seemed to have found his wit, looking at him in askance.

Looking at the kitchen proper to see his target already setting up the prep work for the next meal, Harry sighed tiredly, as if making a great sacrifice.

“I will just help Mrs. Weasley around the kitchen” It took all his willpower not to smirk at his oblivious friends.

Watching his friends drag an unwilling Hermione from the kitchen, Harry squared his shoulder, excited beyond belief to carry out his form of revenge.

That redheaded cunt took his virginity without even an iota of his consent. Took liberty with his body like a fucking degenerate slut.

Maybe I will give that whore her own medicine.

With determination oozing out of his every pore, Harry Potter stealthily crossed the dining table and the counter that separate the kitchen from the dining space.

Seeing the Weasley matriarch chopping shallots diligently, he couldn’t help but sneer at her cloth-covered form.

A totally different get-up from last night.

With orangish-red hair still wet from her shower, a brown voluminous turtle neck full-sleeve sweater that is tucked into an equally large tent-like black skirt reaching to her shin bones, the botched-up engorgio charms are quite evident from her state of dress.

Who wears sweaters at this time of the year, anyways?

A loud clanking noise made him look towards the sink beneath the kitchen window to see the self-cleaning spell diligently working on the used breakfast utensils.

Silently creeping behind her, Harry slightly brushed her skirt on his way to collect another kitchen knife and cutting board, picking up some mushrooms along the way before settling beside her, her shoulders touching his elbows due to their height difference.

“Oh! Harry dear, what are you doing inside?” Gasped out the startled Molly Weasley, left hand clutching her bosom, surprised by his sudden appearance.
Harry just shrugged his shoulders carelessly, “You seemed tired Mrs. Weasley, I thought I would help you around.” And started to dice mechanically, having hundreds of hours of practice with the skill.
“Oh! Aren’t you a sweetheart?” And she sighed loudly, looking truly relaxed for the first time that morning.

Looking at her from the corner of his eyes, Harry drank in the features of the dimpled face of Molly Weasley. Objectively speaking he had always known about her beauty. The main reason his fifteen-year-old self, asked a shabbily dressed redheaded woman for the direction of platform nine and three-quarters was to get a proper glimpse of the mature beauty up close, having observed the family for quite a long time at the station. He still remembers his first night in his bed in the Gryffindor dorm, furiously tugging his inflamed erection thinking of the Weasley mother. Unfortunately, his close friendship with the Weasley children made him too guilty to continue jacking off to their mother later. And not like it’s only him that had taken notice of Molly Weasley’s attractiveness. Out of Ron’s earshot, he had heard plenty of lewd jokes about her from Dean and Seamus, describing in detail what they would like to do to the busty figure of the aforementioned woman.

And they don’t even know what’s hidden behind her clothes.

Truly it is almost fucking unfair to look that good after getting pregnant seven times.

Now standing just a couple of feet away, Harry could see the tiny freckles that dotted around her cute button nose, the way her thin coppery brows scrunched in thought, and those dick-sucking pouty pink lips curving in a gentle smile at his supposed thoughtful gesture.

Ginny looks quite like Molly, doesn’t she?

Maybe a proper inspection is in order.

A sharp pained gasp broke his reminiscence, forcefully tugging his attention to a currently grimacing Molly Weasley, standing on her tippy toes reaching for a bowl at the top cabinet.
Pouncing like a lion, Harry quickly got behind her, invading her personal space, and picked up the object, not before grinding his half-chub in her rear, stilling her form.

“Are you ok?” Harry tried to rearrange his face in a proper concerned expression, putting his large hands on her shoulder exactly where his animagus self’s claws had dug into her pale flesh, intentionally squeezing tightly to invoke the same memory.
Those jutting mountains of pale flesh of her ass did the proper job of awakening his trouser snake from its slumber, tenting his jeans shorts obscenely, mashing against her lower back, just at the junction of her slim waist and bulging arse, causing her to lean forward to escape its reach.

“Nooo… I am all right. … Just had an accident in the bathroom, twisting my hip…..”
The rest of her mumbling was barely audible, her face matching a ripe tomato.

Not wanting to give his game away already, Harry backed away slowly, staring at the back of her intensely but not before digging his finger extra painfully, likely leaving a new set of bruises.

Silently walking back to his workplace, Harry waited for the woman to gather her composure, before sweetly proposing,
“Do you want me to give you a massage Mrs. Weasley?” Harry’s innocent face certainly needed work because the red came with vengeance on the milf’s face, spreading to her ears and neck. “I have plenty of experience with it”

“No… no…. dear…” Molly Weasley stammered uncomfortable, eyes peeled to her workstation, still pretending to be a shy, dutiful wife. “I will take a pain relief potion later.”

Time to go for the kill…

“Oh! But I insist.” Dropping his knife, he slowly got behind the shocked wife, hands going to the curve of her back, gently applying pressure over the woolen wear with his fingers. “You do so much work around the house, someone got to take care of you.”

His throaty purr seemed to unsettle the woman even more, hands dropping the knife and strongly gripping the counter tiles in a vice-like grip, probably discomfited by his aggressive advances.

Hands gently kneading her back muscles, he slowly shifted his dick’s inclination from forward to downward, shuffling forward stealthily.

Mmpppphh….

Molly Weasley seemed to realize the indecent moan that she had let out, quickly shoving her left hand into her mouth to stifle any more embarrassing sounds.

Harry mentally chuckled at her cute reaction, slowly kneading his hands upward loosening the knots along the way.

Seeing that only a few inches separated his twitching cock from the thick fabric of her skirt, Harry took hold of the curved cock in his right hand and with a firm push shoved the whole hog inside her ass cleavage, parting those tightly packed buns like Moses parted the Red sea, shoving that thick skirt fabric inside her asscrack.
Though inferior to his other form’s endowment, his erected jeans-covered dick started from the middle of her back attached to his groin and went along between her asscheeks to almost the middle of her thighs, pushing the skirt inside like a bloodhound sniffing for freshly cured meat.

All pretenses of this being a mere massage annihilated, Harry Potter put both of his hands underneath her massive sweater puppies, lifting them through her layers of clothes.

Finally…

Pushing his hips while simultaneously groping her tits, Harry tried to push her buttons even more.
“Fucking hell, Mrs. Weasley! It feels like I am holding two giant cantaloupes.” Squeezing extra hard for emphasis, “And they must weigh a ton each. Mr. Weasley is so lucky to…..”

Her husband’s name broke through her silent state, probably reminding her to play her role as the prudish wife, Molly Weasley pushed with all her strength against his abdomen, just freeing herself enough to turn around and escape the still-groping young man, face red with either rage or lust or a combination of both.

“How… how dare you?” filling her lungs with air to chew off the perverted teenager in front of her. “Young man I am old enough to be your mother! You dare molest me in my own house? Have you no shame? Wait till I inform Arthur about this….”

Breathing heavily with agitation, Molly Wesley looked up to see his son’s best friend still leering at her breasts in fascination; fuming, she raised her hand to slap some sense into the young man when her wrist was caught in a vice grip.

Seeing a small hand rushing toward his cheek for a clap, Harry took hold of the thin wrist and pulled the woman toward him in the same motion, mashing her clothed breasts with his abs while twisting the wrist held in his hand behind her, repeating the same process with her other hand, essentially trapping her between her own hands and his firm upper body.

“Tell Arthur what, Molly?” Harry bent down so he could whisper directly in the struggling woman’s ear. “That his wife prefers to spend quality time with horses rather than her husband?”

All that righteous indignation evaporated in the blink of an eye, a shocked-looking Molly Weasley stared at his eyes, face drained of all colors, and could only stammer a gasping sentence.

“What… are….yo…you talk..ing about?”

“Who me? Nothing really…” giving her his most evil smirk Harry continued “But a little hippogriff has a lot of things to say.”

Small horrified mutterings of ‘No, No’ came out of the mouth of the shell-shocked Weasley matriarch.

“Oh yes, imagine my surprise, strolling through the ground after my first successful transformation and suddenly there is my best friend’s mum, whom I have always respected as a mother figure, coming along and practically raping me in my innocent beastly form. Why I am completely traumatized by that experience, I am sure”

Harry Potter said in a mockingly sorrowful voice, immensely enjoying the promiscuous milf’s distress at the unveiling of her closet’s skeleton.

letting her hands go from his tight hold, guessing that her futile resistance has completely seized at the outings of her dark secret, Harry took hold of her neck, making her look up at his face so that he could enjoy the helplessness in her eyes.

Seeing those eyes of the color of bark glistening with unshed tears of embarrassment along with that fat lower lip trembling in apprehension, Harry swooped down onto her, smooching that soft-looking lower lip, and putting his long tongue inside her mouth the moment she opened her mouth in a shocked gasp, forcefully wrestling with her limp tongue, cajoling it to join in this new adventure.

Unfortunately, in her paralyzed mind, Molly Weasley was unable to return her son’s friend’s invitation to the dances of their tongues.

Disappointed but not disheartened, Harry Potter took the matter into his own hands, or rather tongue, tracing every millimeter of the busty mom’s mouth, scooping out the remains of the honeyed porridge that Molly Weasley had, as breakfast, slowly withdrawing his tongue from her mouth and disengaging from her lips, still connected with a thick strand of saliva and mucus.

Tasting that sweet taste of porridge along with the sweet taste of his uncontested victory of their tongue wrestling match, Harry slowly massaged behind her upper neck, eyes glinting victoriously, when suddenly he tugged her semi-wet hair, forcing her to look upward to expose her graceful neck that he could suck and nibble on. And let out a frustrated huff at seeing his destination covered up with a truly ugly sweater.

This fugly thing has to go….

Wishing with all his might to vanish the eyesore i.e her sweater into nothingness, Harry almost let out a yelp of surprise to find him face to face or rather chest to face with a red bra-wearing Weasley matriarch, whose massive breasts seemed to be overflowing the humongous cups of that plain cotton bra.

Did I just vanish her sweater wandlessly?

Discarding his moment of genius as pure luck, Harry Potter quickly tugged those struggling cups down under her tits, unveiling those holy grails to his human eyes for the first time.

And immediately dived in between them, sucking and licking between the round spheres to his heart’s content. Hands latching onto the warm pale flesh, overflowing even his large hands.

Latching onto the stiff pink nipple of her left breast while simultaneously twisting the right one with his fingers, Harry started to alternate between the two, mind drunk in fuck last.

A reluctant moan perked his ears.

Finally…

Seeing the Weasley woman finally break out of her embarrassed shell, Harry left his tit-worshipping act, letting those red, abused nipples out with loud wet pops.

Standing up straight, and staring into Molly’s frightened eyes, Harry could see the tightly repressed lust and desire, playing peek-a-boo behind her blown-wide chocolate pupils. A fight between her horny body and a guilty conscience.

Wanting to dominate further, Harry tried to imitate a dirty perverted villain’s voice that he had seen on Dursley’s television a few years ago.

“Didn’t you say that you wish to keep me as your pleasure pet, sweetheart?” Harry’s baritone voice pitched a bit higher, trying to sound like a slimy codger. “But guess what slut? I’m nobody’s bitch!” And to emphasize his point, he brought down his large mitten upon those mammaries repeatedly, filling the kitchen with loud fleshy smacks, turning those pale orbs completely red from their unprecedented abuse.

Ngggghh…..plzz… mmmmphhhhh….

Fat tears rolled from the eyes of the Weasley matriarch, voice hitching in pained breathy whimpers.

Bending down Harry Potter lifted the curvy woman from her midsection effortlessly like a sack of rice, carrying her through the kitchen and into the adjoined dining space, clearing that large Weasley dinner table of everything with a nonchalant wave of his hand and dumped her meaty ass on her family’s dining table with a loud thump.

Lust seems like a good motivator for impressive magics…

Harry Potter couldn’t help but let out a victorious smirk upon seeing the redhead woman’s futile attempt at escaping his clutch, dragging herself behind toward the middle of the table on her elbows with a deliciously panicked expression.

“Stop, Harry! Please….”

Shaking his head and tut-tutting in a sorrowful voice, “Sorry, Mrs. Weasley I am just following your orders of pleasuring you whenever there are only the two of us present.” Saying this, he took hold of the edge of her skirt, and dragged her to his corner, shredding the garment in the process.

And let out a peal of full-blown laughter at seeing full white granny panties covering her lower extremities, more similar to a boy-shorts than anything.

“Seriously, do you only wear sexy clothes for your equine friends’ viewing pleasure?” Harry’s incredulous looks only heightened her embarrassed look.

Shaking his head at the odd practices followed by the Weasley matriarch, Harry concentrated on vanishing the offending garment, willing to erase its existence and reveal the treasure beneath.
Being successful at his endeavor of divesting the voluptuous form of Ron’s mother completely naked except for the plain red bra, Harry spanned his eyes downward and stared.

And stared.

And stared some more…..

Gritting his teeth in mounting anger, Harry Potter balled his fist, wishing that he could strangle some moron to death to alleviate his all-encompassing wraith.

All of his previous efforts of frightening and embarrassing the Weasley matriarch into submission, wishing to give her the same helpless feeling that he endured last night, had been for naught, considering there was a bucket of pussy juice splattered around her nether region, easily mistaken for bladder malfunction, was glaring proof of the complete fool that he had made of himself.

And in front of his very angry visage, her fat labial petals opened a fraction and deposited another dose of white goo to the already-drenched surroundings.

Molly Weasley almost fainted in mortification at her body’s betrayal, staring at the furious countenance of the handsome boy-who-lived’s face in dread, dearly wishing to hide the honest reaction of her lewd body in response to the degradation that the muscular young man put her through.
She always dreaded the day when somebody would find out about her immoral extracurricular activities, and feared the reaction of her husband or her children, even more, should they ever learn of her nightly habits that had been going on since before most of them were even born. She could vaguely remember the times and situations when her curious self decided to walk this debauched path.
Growing up with her prude of an aunt after her parents passing, she was always strictly forbidden from pursuing any kind of physical relationship with boys.
“Only scarlet women do that” The loud rebukes of aunt Muriel still echo around in her head, fuelling her with enough headaches to last a lifetime.
And being the sister of the overprotective Prewett twins also discouraged many boys from pursuing a relationship with her in fear of their retribution. So, while her friends were going on dates, snogging in abandoned rooms, and exploring their sexuality, she would stay awake every night, an overly developed body furiously jumping up and down over phallic-shaped objects, dearly wishing to be filled with flesh and bloodied ones.
With age and desire the sizes of her toys grew exponentially, from average human size to large unnaturally thick dildoes becoming her choice of preference, falling in love with the feeling of being stretched to the limit.
In the absence of a human partner, her chronic masturbation problem got so out of hand that her dormmates substituted her name from Molly Prewett to Smelly Prewett much to her consternation, as she was always wafting thick, musky smell of pussy, like a pungent perfume to everybody around her.

And finally, the handsome Weasley heir gathered enough courage to court her, taking her inexperienced self to lovely dates in Hogsmeade, strolling under the silvery moonlights, charming her with his gentlemanly behavior.
Alas, when the time for consummation came, all the imagery of vicious tsunamic waves of lust and pleasure that her romantic mind had conjured in her lonely nights turned out to be just that, idle imagination.
The gentle waves of passion from her boyfriend barely quenched her thirst, rather poured oil in an all-encompassing passionate flame that burned brighter with every unsatisfactory encounter.
A chance encounter during detention brought her in contact with a young adventurous centaur, whose gorgeous muscular physique not to mention enormous equine endowment made a hot and horny Molly Prewett jump at the chance of doing something scandalous.
Though the mating was clumsy and rough, the sheer taboo and wrongness of the bestial sex, made Molly repeatedly betray Arthur with the centaur whose name unfortunately was never important to her.
Even after marriage, when her access to the forbidden forest and her equine friend got revoked, a resourceful Molly Weasley sniffed out the address of a nearby stable where breeding stallions were kept and nurtured.
With a bit of trickery to fool her oblivious husband and a bit of magic(imperius), her dual life as the dutiful wife and lustful whore got going splendidly.
As usual, she was sneaking into her preferred sexual partners’ place last night when she stumbled upon something that astounded her eyes.
A hippogriff in her backyard.
A fucking legendary magical animal whose virility, endowment, and mating prowess are whispered among curious witches in awe, comparing it regularly with their human lovers.
Naturally, her lust overwhelmed her rational mind, not even questioning what such a rare creature was doing at night at her property.
And wasn’t the following few hours an experience?

And of course, it had to be Harry Potter.
Didn’t she also mentally acknowledge the gorgeous dark green pupils of the hippogriff that was so similar to her youngest son’s best friend?
And now manhandled by the vengeful young man like a rag doll, she had a long overdue epiphany.
She isn’t turned on by the taboo or wrongness of her dalliances with the creatures like she had always thought but rather by the helplessness and domination that her sweet husband had never been able to provide to her but the equines could, rutting in singlemindedness, not caring in the least about her welfare, chasing their finishes only.
And as she lay there with barely any clothing, turned on so much by the effortless masculinity of the eighteen-year-old Harry Potter, on the brink of the greatest orgasm of her life without touching her fanny a single time, she finally stopped pretending.
Finally, let go of the civilized mask of a proper housewife, baring her real self for the first time to a fellow human.
Anymore pretending will be an insult to the sexual juggernaut that is Harry Potter.

“Come here, Harry. Break your best friend’s mommy’s cunt with that fat dong.”

A loud whoop of joy from Ginny Weasley broke her from vivid daydreams of becoming a world-famous magizoologist, researching different animals’ mating habits and their compatibilities of breeding with normal human witches. All thoughts of becoming the first female muggle-born minister evaporated with each vivid image of traveling to different parts of the world and searching for exotic big magical creatures, taking her mind straight to the gutter.

And maybe testing their sexual compatibility with her own body.
A snide voice whispered in her ear.

Shaking her head, and banishing those scandalous thoughts from her mind, Hermione Granger grimaced at finding herself sitting under a tree with her favorite book, Hogwarts a history, in her hand, not even remembering getting outside of the Burrow in the first place.
Closing her eyes, she tried to center her mind with deep breaths as per her habit. Unfortunately for her, her photographic memory provided the damning visuals of last night with perfect clarity, bombarding her mind with the way the moonlight glinted against the dark coat of the beast’s ferociously thrusting muscly hindquarters, the rhythmic swaying of those gravity-defying breasts of Weasley matriarch with every beast’s thrust, the disgustingly wet and lewd sounds of a tight canal parting around a humongous invader…..

Enough….

Hermione Granger jumped to her feet, picking up the nearby fallen book, face twisted in distress.
Every time she had closed her eyes after that incident, her mind had provided the same images repeatedly like a broken damn video recorder, twisting her mind with their repeated exposure.
She had already stopped herself multiple times from fantasizing about being in Molly’s place, receiving the beast’s merciless onslaught.

I need to get out of here.

Walking away briskly from the orchard, where the dubious rendezvous happened last night, Hermione started to loudly recite the principles of inanimate to animate transfiguration, hoping to distract her mind with complicated theories of her favorite subject. Walking for a few moments around the Weasley property, immersing herself in the wonders of magic again, she was starting to feel like her old self, passing by the Kitchen window when a seductive purr reached her ears, pouring ice-cold water into her fiery determination.
“Come here, Harry. Break your best friend’s mommy’s cunt with that fat dong.”

Please not again…

She pleaded to every deity that her muggle upbringing made her aware of, to save her from this temptation, to rescue her from diving into, no doubt, another abominable happenstance, alas like a hastily put together inferius abiding by their creator’s will, her once incorruptible brilliant mind fell into the same cesspool of lechery that her first human progenitor also succumbed to, allowing the sin of desire to flourish at the once hearty family home.

Peeking her head inside the window, she released a soft resigned sigh.

Honestly, I am not even surprised this time.

Harry tried to calm his furiously beating heart, the haze of anger that was starting to cloud his mind somewhat abated giving way for his rationality to return.

Why am I even trying?

He realized the futility of his hour-long effort to break the Weasley matriarch’s will, considering filthier and depraved actions seemed to titillate the woman even more, on the brink of orgasm without any direct stimulation, Harry resolved to physically punish her and sate his lust, as just compensation for his smarting pride.

“Come here, Harry. Break your best friend’s mommy’s cunt with that fat dong.”

Seeing Molly Weasley beckoning him by spreading her labial flaps with her fingers, her expression mirroring a Knockturn alley whore, Harry lost it.

She still thinks she could order me around. Does she?

Well, I will just have to disabuse her of that notion.

Taking hold of his loose faded half-sleeve t-shirt and yanking it from his frame, Harry also shimmied down his jeans short, bunching both together and throwing it around the room, unknowingly hitting the Weasley family clock, which toppled from its stand causing Arthur Weasley’s hand to break from it.

Molly Weasley gulped loudly seeing those huge muscles rippling under the streaming sunlight through the windows, those bulging biceps and slab-like abs making her slutty pussy tingle in anticipation. Glancing downwards she couldn’t stop herself from moaning out loud.

Morgana’s hairy cunt! That is barely smaller than his hippogriff form!

Her mind already delirious, started comparing the two behemoths that will rearrange her insides regularly in the future.

This looks so much more appetizing than that straight red fleshy organ though.

Harry smirked internally to see the redheaded slut gawking at his dick.
Glancing downward he could see his forearm-thick, veiny appendage with its blood-red huge bellend leaking precum from the urethral opening, waving at the milf’s nearby holes like trying to cast some kind of hypnotizing magic in the mockery of a wand motion.

Dragging the curvy body towards him, Harry started to hit the drenched area around her pussy lips with his mighty wand with loud thwacks, giving special attention to her erect vibrating clitoris, and labia, spreading a cacophony of loud ‘fap, fap’ around the whole kitchen.

“For Magick’s sake, just put that inside already!” Molly’s desperate scream of arousal only strengthened Harry’s resolve to torture the woman even more.

Wanting to put her mouth to better use, Harry took hold of those thick thighs in her hand, and with her fat arse as the fulcrum spun her around so that her head came to stop right underneath his jerking dick, replacing her wet cooch.
Dragging her downward, Harry didn’t stop pulling until the whole head and neck of the Weasley matriarch was hanging upside down from the table, red hair fanning like a hallow, with a clear view of his large hairy testes.
“Harry, what the hell……” ignoring the loud protests and flailing arms of his best friend’s mother, Harry shifted his hips backward, aiming his rotund glans at her wide-open lips, and started feeding her the first quarter of his dick roughly, distending those pillowy lips obscenely.

“MMMphhhh…….. mmmmppphhhh”

Gripping those huge mommy milkers in his hands tightly, Harry started to rail the depraved whore’s throat maniacally, feeding her more than half of his length in every thrust.
“Did you take me for all those pathetic wizards that you sleep around in Mr. Weasley’s absence? you stupid cunt! Fulfilling your every whim!
Each of his hoarse exclamations was accompanied by a titanic thrust, bulging her slim neck like a cocksleeve, mashing the coarse pubes of his hanging ball in her nose and forehead, suffocating her in the stench of his manliness.

“Are all of your children even from the same father?” Teeth bared in agitation, Harry bellowed, “Answer me, you fucking bitch! Who are the fathers of your fucking children?”
And with all the strength of his frame, he gave a body jarring thrust that jiggled Mrs. Weasleys whole curvy body, lodging his cockhead directly in her esophagus, causing her to start thrashing around, throat convulsing, trying to dislodge the foreign appendage.

Gakhhh…… Glkkkhh…. Gakkhhhh….

Not caring at the least about the panicked flailing of the woman underneath him, Harry changed his grip from her flailing tits to the slim belly just below her sternum, completely surrounding it in his mighty grip, and started to drag her whole body up and down, causing her spit and throat slime to soak his dick and balls, assisting him in his furious pounding.

“Yes…yes…yes! Take my dick in your gob, you slut.” Eyes rolling in maddening lust Harry Potter victoriously crowed out, “Taste my fucking vengeance!”

Already at the edge from the prolonged seduction, Harry could feel the familiar burning in his swinging balls, slowing down his speed for the perfect full thrust of his hips, feeling slightly concerned in the back of his mind from the sudden lack of motion from the Weasley milf, Harry sweaty eyebrows almost rose above his hair line, incredulity marring his red visage at the scene in front of him.

Molly Weasley saw small black spots dancing in her vision. Gagging around the monstrosity lodged in her throat, smelling the musky scent of a man in his sexual prime through her clogged nose, feeling those heavy nuts repeatedly banging at her bruised forehead, her asphyxiated mind couldn’t stop marveling at the demolition that her throat-pussy is receiving at the hands of a sex-god.

Who knew that shy small teenager would turn out to be this lustful deity?

So, what if she has to sacrifice her body at the altar of this god’s ascension?

She will die knowing that she had done a great favor to all the witches in the world.

Happily…

A jolt of pleasure ran through her whole body, a jolt so powerful that it broke through her delirious ramblings, signifying something monumental, something unprecedented.

Oh no….

As she had feared from the beginning of this encounter, Harry’s pulling off of every weak spot of her psyche, using her like his personal onahole, caused her wrinkly, pink pussy folds to suddenly open with a loud ‘pffop’ and start shooting femcum like a stream of piss straight to the other side of the table, without a single stimulation to her cooch during the whole encounter, dirtying the place usually occupied by her husband.

Seeing that extremely arousing sight, Harry’s rhythm faltered, and with a loud roar,
“Drink all of my fucking seed!” Hosed down an ungodly amount of jizz in the Weasley Matriarch’s ruined throat.
His big frame soaked to the bone in his sweat, heart thundering as he had just finished a fucking marathon, Harry Potter slowly withdrew his semi-hard, still, absolutely enormous cock from his slut’s throat-pussy, causing the woman to immediately choke on his jizz, and start gurgling it as some of it had entered through her nose, making her start blowing cum-bubbles from her nostrils.

And Harry couldn’t help but let out an exhausted but demented laugh seeing the pathetic state of the Weasley matriarch.

If there was any doubt about the identity of that hippogriff in Hermione’s mind, that cleared immediately after seeing his best friend naked.

When did Harry get so jacked?

And that cock….

Fuck…

But seeing that utter zensluttery that followed the unveiling of his friend’s Greek god-like physique, Hermione couldn’t help but mentally plead out to his once noble best friend.

Seriously Harry, do you really have no respect for the sanctity of Ron’s parent’s marriage?

Molly Weasley stared at Harry worshipfully, feeling him sawing his thick fingers inside her still smarting cunthole.
“Yes love, ruin my hole for every other person.” She purred, face still red and blotchy from the earlier encounter. “Make sure that my Arthur only feels cold air the next time he tries to put his tiny dick inside me”

Harry gulped, not sure if he wants to have sex with an out-of-mind person. From the moment Molly Weasley had recovered enough from the brutal facefucking, her attitude toward marriage and Arthur Weasley seemed to have taken a complete one-eighty.
Constantly deriding her husband, mocking his sexual performance openly, Harry wondered whether he had somehow caused some kind of brain damage with her earlier asphyxiation.

I wanted to make break her will not her mind.

His grouchy thoughts were interrupted by the digging of the Weasley matriarch’s heel on his bum, egging him to penetrate her with his bitchbreaker.

And that’s another thing that he’s unsure about. Did he really want to put his dick in a hole that was destroyed by his other self just a few hours ago?
Though a witch’s pussy seemed a lot more resilient considering the redness aside, Molly’s peach looked absolutely fine around his fingers.
Nobody would be able to tell what went into that cooch last night.

Mind whirling in indecision, his gaze fell onto the shut tight tiny pink starfish just below the redhead’s cuntpetals.

There still remained a fort to conquer.

Angling his helmet to her starfish, Harry started to push, his veiny shaft still glistening with spit and slime from the mindblowing fellatio.

“Wait!”

A panicked shout from Molly stopped his effort. Raising his left eyebrow in impatience Harry started tapping his right foot on the ground, right hand still supporting the weight of his dick, left hand holding the woman’s right thigh most of which’s weight resting on his left shoulder.
“Just fuck my wet, horny, needy pussy, stud.” Molly gently implored a hint of desperation in her voice. “That place is filthy.”
Harry’s second eyebrow joined his first as if asking ‘really’?
Blushing furiously Molly Weasley spluttered
“It’s unnatural”
That declaration was too much for Harry, eyes twitching to keep his laughter hidden inside his belly, he snorted loudly.
“Really?” His mocking disbelief projected from his every syllable. “I thought that’s what really gets you going.”

Harry had to lean forward to hear the next sentence from the atomic red Weasley matriarch.
“I haven’t taken anything there, ever.”

Eyes widening in incredulity, Harry almost stumbled back in shock to realize a slut like Molly still had her anal virginity.

Wait…

Isn’t all this started because of his desire for revenge against the Weasley milf for taking his virginity without his consent?

What better way for that than taking her last one himself?

A virginity for virginity.

Grinning like a loon Harry tried to force his cock helmet into her sphincter, ignoring her repeated shouts to stop.

“Morgana’s tits! pull it out… pull it out… It’s too big!”

Harry Potter grimaced in pain, feeling the bigger-than-his-fist bellend getting squeezed horribly, the spit from before proving insufficient to provide proper lubrication.

Cursing himself for not learning the lubrication charm, Harry looked around for any inspiration, not willing to back down now.

There…

With a beckoning motion of his hand, Harry summoned a large jar from the kitchen cabinet.

“That’s Arthur’s favorite jam.”

Getting a really devious idea, Harry unscrewed the lid and straight up shoved his dick into the jar, gyrating his hips for a better spread.

“Next time give your husband an extra helping. Got it, slut?”

Molly Weasley felt like her ovaries going to explode in pleasure at the boy-who-lived sheer audacity.

With his massive cock red with slimy strawberry jam, Harry Potter angled his cock at the winking starfish, hands holding the Weasley mother’s body tightly to prevent her escape.
And shoved the whole dong straight into the tiny fleshy, extremely hot corridor, mind awash with nirvana.
“You brute! You are breaking my arse…” A loud banshee’s scream tore through the Burrow. “But it hurts so good.”

Hermione Granger crawled underneath the windows to get away from the scene, mind still fixated on the way Harry’s cock tore through Mrs. Weasley’s shit hole.

I really need to have a discussion with my Harry soon.

And if that discussion involves very little talking then it’s no other’s business.

If I have to use my own body to lure him away from ruining Ron’s family, then so be it.

Alas, it has to wait as the quidditch world cup starts tomorrow.

With a loud sigh, Hermione Granger wandered back to the orchard.

The things I have to do for my friends.

Harry Potter shook his disgustedly, watching thousands of wizards and witches just running away from barely two dozen masked freaks even though a tickling charm from each of them will most certainly be enough to beat all those bigoted asses.
Not that he can claim to be a beacon of chivalry, snooping around in the dark trees, afraid of coming across anyone with malintent.
Hard to believe that just a few hours prior, Harry would have proclaimed this the greatest experience of his admittedly short life. To see all those masters of Quidditch weave magic in the air, riding their brooms, and enthralling the thousands of spectators was certainly a spectacle that will remain in his memory till his dying day.

Of course, someone had to ruin his magical day.

In this case the followers of his not-so-dead archnemesis.

Drunk, bigoted dark wizards’ intent on hurting muggles and muggle-borns seemed to have turned back the years, forgetting most of them were paroled by the wizarding court of their crimes for admitting having done so under coercion.

If only he had not lost his wand.

And wasn’t that the most embarrassing admission in his young life? To misplace your wand, to lose something which in the sense separates you from the mundane.

After Mr. Weasley’s warning for the golden trio to stick together, fate had to put a monkey wrench in his already ruined day, separating him from his friends in that mad dash to the treelines.

Making as little noise as possible, Harry trudged through the tree trunks, ears peeled for anyone’s approach when faint laughter reached his ears.

Who is enjoying this clusterfuck of a situation?

Well, he can certainly think of Fred and George who will enjoy causing mischief in this situation but they will certainly not be laughing in the secluded part of the forest.

Hoping to sate his curiosity, Harry silently approached a small clearing, barely breathing in air, in case it got him noticed.
Surrounded by a dozen Ronan and willow trees, five dark-robed wizards took turns casting low-powered cutting curses on a young woman who seemed to be guarding something with her body.
Though the woman seemed to be in pain, no blood marks on or around her body indicated a more sinister plan by the dark wizards. And sure enough, the cutting curses were strategically cast on places where they started to tear away chunks of clothes rather than flesh and blood
It didn’t take long for Harry to comprehend the wicked intentions of the wizards, and their mocking laughter certainly cemented his resolve to not let the woman suffer her fate without any effort on his part.
Checking his surroundings to make sure of anyone’s absence, Harry Potter shifted into the powerful form of a brown-coated Hippogriff, sneaking behind the oblivious wizards with silent footfalls.
Or in this case claws and hooves.
Unfortunately, his green pupils couldn’t find a single line of attack to incapacitate all of them in a single blow.

The maximum I can do is the two wizards hanging behind in the first shot.

As much as his pride as a hippogriff compels him to defeat all his enemies quickly, his human rationale won out, silently covering the distance between them till around fifteen feet separated the beast and the dark wizards.
Looking downwards he could see those vicious claws in his front limbs gleaming in the darkness.

Tightening his pectoralis and supracoracoideus as well as fascia and femoris muscles in anticipation of the charge, Harry held his breath for five seconds then,

Go….

With a vicious but silent caw Harry, the hippogriff sprung forward, His powerful wings and legs helped him cover the distance in the blink of an eye, front limbs coming across diagonally at the left-sided wizard’s shoulder, claws almost dismembering the unsuspecting wizard at the same time rotating his muscular equine body with the shifting momentum, raising both the hind legs and aimed a ferocious kick at the half-turned wizard in the right.
Two agonized screams and the feeling of a collapsing ribcage underneath his hooves caused immense satisfaction to bloom inside his bestial mind. Unfortunately, his mental celebration didn’t last long as three bright red spells came careening toward his position, making him dodge those with the thinnest of margins.

The fuck…

He had barely regained his bearings when another barrage of cutting and blasting curses came dangerously close to pulverizing him on the spot.
Not getting any breathing room, and continuously dodging those progressively darker cursers, Harry couldn’t help but mentally curse his stupidity.
Great job on running headlong into another dangerous spot without a backup plan, Potter!
Or any plan for that matter.

He could already envision his epitaph in the hook-nosed Snape’s voice,
Potter with his inflated sense of self-worth…..

“You filthy beast…”
“Avada Kedavra”
Two vicious shouts broke his self-chastisement abruptly. Three widely spread different colored curses, covering his dodging areas rushed towards him.
Not aware of the three effects, he skidded to his right, forgoing the dark green spelled curse by an instinctual dread, taking the purple spell in his left wing.

Nothing…

Unfurling his wings in amazement, he took to the air, hoping that more maneuverability would help in his fight.
By the lull in the spellcasting, the dark wizards seemed perplexed by his ability to shrug off the effects of the most probably deadly curse.

Do hippogriffs also have magically resistant hide?

All his readings on the subject never mentioned that fact.

Turning his feathery head, he looked back to the safe foliage just beyond fifty feet. He could probably cross the distance with his speed before they connect a spell with his body. But looking at the hopeful eyes of the woman lying behind the dark wizards, all thoughts of flight to safety extinguished in his mind.

The three wizards seemingly recovered as well from their momentary funk, wands glowing green with the clear intention of killing a nuisance, in their minds.

Fuck my hero complex….

Just as he was preparing to fight to the death a sudden stillness settled around the clearing almost like nature itself stood still anticipating a momentous event, then an intensely powerful attack pressed on his mind, not unlike the imperius from before but a lot more sinister and crueler in a way.

Feeling his bestial mind roar in defiance at the mental command of submission, his human mind provided strength behind the resolution, unlike the previous imperius attack when both halves of his mind were fighting amongst themselves.

Sufficiently thwarting the attack, He cocked his eyes sideways to get a better view when his breath hitched in his feathery body.

There standing at the edge of the clearing, framed by two slender willow trees stood the two most beautiful women he ever had the fortune of viewing.
Pale skin glowing like bathed in liquified moonlight, silver hair floating behind like illuminated by the divine breath, face so impossibly beautiful even angels would weep in envy, Harry felt his heart contracting in his chest cavity, the gorgeousness of both women taking his breath away.

Spanning his one avian pupil downward their face, Harry’s thoughts stopped forming entirely.

Their bodies...…..

Those lewd bodies do not fit at all with their angelic appearance.

It looked like some artist with a very skewed sense of imagination had created the perfect mixture of angelic innocence and devilish impurity, an impossible admixture.

A horrifying feeling broke through his self-reflection.

His hairy penile sheath seemed to be undulating, an assured indication of the emergence of his hidden Basilisk.

From his peripheral vision, he saw one of the angels(or devils) break rank and came forward with a loud screech, a bright red fireball conjured in her hand which then shot like speeding bullets toward the three vacantly stood wizards, and the two down from his assault from before, incinerating them alive.

The gruesome deaths of the dark wizards also lifted the veil of ignorance from his mind.

Veelas…..

Shit…..

Eyes widening in alarm at the lifted wand of the far-standing beauty, Harry Potter put every muscle in his equine body to use, desperately hoping to evade the yellow fire-like ribbon coming his way, seemingly breaking the sound barrier.

Now I wish I had jumped to the left.
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Animal Instinct