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The Happy Hotwives of Hogsmeade	By : Wimp36 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 33530 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of its characters, premises, or related information from either the books or movies. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
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1 - Dinner Guests

“Honey! I’m home!” Shouted Ginny, slamming the door behind herself. A call of greeting came from further in the house. The young witch leaned her broom in the corner, removed her coat and hung it from the peg by the door. Beneath it she wore sweat-soaked training gear, spattered with mud and grass stains; the youngest ever captain and star chaser of the Hollyhead Harpies trained hard, and expected the same from her team.

“Dinner ready soon?” She called. “Don’t forget that Hermione and Luna will be coming! Ron and Neville, too, obviously! I’m going to take a quick shower!”

She climbed the stairs to the master bedroom, discarding clothing as she went. She stepped under the spray of hot water gratefully, thoroughly soaping her well-muscled body and sighing as aching muscled relaxed. She could hear someone moving outside the cubicle and assumed that it was just Harry. Very little short of an explosion would have pulled her away from her post-practice shower.

Finally satisfied, she stepped out to see a fluffy white towel folded neatly on the edge of the sink next to a glass of cold white wine. Her practice gear was nowhere to be seen. Nor were any of the signs of her rather messy passage into the bathroom. She dried herself quickly and sipped the wine before turning her attention to her appearance.

At just twenty-three years of age, she maintained an almost adolescent face, clear and unblemished — save, of course, for her freckles. Her flaming crimson hair fell nearly to her waist. Her body was lean and well-muscled, with powerful though slender thighs, chiseled abdomen, and arms that strained with muscle. Her bright blue eyes trailed down her reflection past her small breasts to the patch of bright red hair between her legs. Nodding approvingly at herself, she prepared for the evening.

First, she braided her hair into a single long plait, which she let hand down her back. Red silk panties slid up her legs, followed by tight black trousers. A loose, sleeveless white blouse, black leather boots, and a thick silver bracelet completed the look. She stopped briefly at her vanity to add a touch of makeup and scarlet lipstick before grabbing the last of her jewelry and heading downstairs to await their guests.

***

Deputy Minister of Magic Hermione Granger arrived home at almost the same time that Ginny arrived at her own home next door. After Ginny and Harry had relocated to Hogsmeade, Hermione had, at once, purchased the home immediately next door. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had moved in shortly after.

Unlike Ginny, who came home almost every day covered in mud, Hermione was the picture of stern elegance. Her navy blue cloak drifted to the coatrack of its own accord. She strode up to her bedroom calmly, removing her clothing only when she reached her walk-in closet. Her shoes went in the appropriate spot on the rack, her official ministerial robes were hung where they belonged, and the remainder of her clothes went into the hamper to be washed.

She entered the ensuite bath to find a tub full of steaming water and lavender-scented bubbles. Candles burned on many surfaces and an ice cold martini rested alongside a novel on the rim of the tub. She slid into the water, took a sip of her drink, and settled in to read a chapter or two of the book.

A knock at the door frame some time later revealed Ron.

“Yes?” She asked.

“Ginny and Harry are expecting us at eight, dear,” he said softly. “It’s seven-thirty now.”

“Hand me a towel, then?” Asked Hermione, standing. She accepted the towel and Ron moved away to get ready himself. Hermione dried herself quickly and arranged her hair into a tight bun. She applied makeup and chose jewelry — pearl drops and necklace — before returning to her closet to select an outfit. She settled quickly on a lacy white bra that showed her firm C-cup breasts to their full extent and a matching thong that she slid up over her womanhood and the neat strip of pubic hair that she allowed herself. A calf-length two-toned dress — white on the top and black below — and black heels followed.

“Ready!” She called.

***

Luna Lovegood arrived home in a clap of air with only minutes before they were to meet for dinner. Her blonde hair stood up in a chaotic mess and there were ink and soot stains on her face and clothes. Neville, already dressed, waited in the entry of their home.

“I stayed a little late in the lab,” she explained. “I wanted to finish my latest experiment! I’ll get ready fast, don’t worry!”

She shot up the stairs. Like Neville, she worked at Hogwarts, where she taught charms following Professor Flitwick’s retirement. She had thought that she would have plenty of time for experiments, but often found herself needing to use up more and more of her evenings to do so. Forgoing a shower, she simply vanished her work clothes and cleaned herself magically.

Silver and sapphire jewelry floated towards her as she worked a few quick summoning charms. Blue lingerie and a blue dress appeared on her body along with almost precariously high white heels. Makeup was harder to apply by magic, so she focused on that for a few moments. Satisfied, she apparated back to the entry.

“Let’s go!” She said, grabbing Neville by the arm.

***

Some minutes later, Hermione and Ron joined Luna and Neville outside Harry and Ginny’s house. Ron rang the bell and, after a moment, Harry opened the door, gesturing them all inside. He took coats from all the guests and accepted the bottle of wine from Ron and the box of Cuban cigarillos from Neville with thanks before ushering everyone into the lounge where Ginny waited for pre-dinner cocktails.

“Where are the children?” Asked Luna.

“Waiting to say hello to you all before they go the Burrow for the weekend,” said Ginny. “Harry, would you go get them?”

Of the six of them, only Harry and Ginny had children. This was in no small part due to a clause in the Potter family trust that only gave Ginny access to its funds once a Potter heir was born. That clause might have caused a major fight, had Ginny not been witness to Harry’s efforts to change it. Nonetheless, she loved their children: a twin boy and girl of four years old and another boy of three.

Harry returned with the children, who ran clumsily to hug their aunts and uncles. The twins, Albus and Lily, had Ginny’s hair, Harry’s eyes, and their parents’ pale skin. The boy, James, was dark haired and slightly swarthy. At only two years old, he was already taller than the twins.

“Say goodnight to Aunties Hermione and Luna and Uncles Ron and Neville,” ordered Ginny. The children obeyed and then followed Harry to the next room to floo to the Burrow. When Harry returned, Ginny touched the charm — shaped somewhat like a key — that dangled from a thin chain around her neck and smiled warmly. A similar charm nestled between Hermione’s breasts and a third glinted on a chain around Luna’s ankle.

“Shall we?” She asked. Hermione and Luna nodded, and each of the women looked at their husbands as Luna drew her wand. With a casual flick the glamour that each man had been under vanished.

A moment ago, Harry had stood in a neat blue suit with a white shirt, floral tie, and brown shoes. Now, it was plain that his real attire was a knee-length black dress over a white crinoline, a white lacy apron, white stockings, and black high heels. A black silk choker wrapped around his neck, small silver hoops dangled from each ear, and his hair, which was elegantly curled into short ringlets, was capped with a white lace frill.

Ron had been dressed in a pair of tan slacks, blue shirt, and red cardigan. Now he appeared with his shoulder-length hair in a chic bob and dressed in a red satin mini dress that just barely covered his arse. Black fishnet stockings and red stilettos accompanied the outfit.

Neville, who looked every inch the professor (though in reality, he was only the greenhouse assistant ) — bow tie, tweed jacket, and all — was now attired as a schoolgirl, in a perfect replica of the Hogwarts uniform…though with a slightly too short skirt and too high heels. His hair was done up in two braided pigtails.

The women smiled at each other as the men — the sissies — blushed.

“Now that we’re properly attired,” said Ginny, “I believe that proper greetings are in order. Say hello to our guests, Harry.”

Harry curtsied and then knelt, bending down to kiss first Ginny’s shoes, then Hermione’s, then Luna’s. Ron and Neville followed suit, greeting each woman in turn with a murmured “Good evening, Mistress.”

“Say hello to each other, too,” said Luna. “No need to be rude.”

Harry turned first to Ron.

“Good evening, Sissy Ron,” he said, and leaned in to kiss him full on the lips. Their tongues darted out briefly to explore the others most before withdrawing. He turned next to Neville and repeated the process. Then Ron and Neville greeted each other.

“Now, Harry,” said Ginny, snapping her fingers. “Drinks.”

Harry curtsied again and made for the bar cart. He knew their drink orders by heart at this point: gin martini for Hermione, Aperol spritz for Luna, and an Old Fashioned for Ginny. He quickly and expertly made the drinks and returned with them balanced on a tray to serve the women. Neville and Ron knelt at their wives’ feet, heads downcast as Harry handed the drinks to the women, each with a murmured offering.

“Will there be anything else, Mistress?” He asked. “Or shall I fetch the hors-d'oeuvres?”

“Yes. Do that, Harry. And then you may make drinks for the three of you.”

Harry curtsied and returned, moments later, with a larger tray of olives, cheese, fruit, nuts, and other nibbles. He then made his way back to the bar cart to mix three violently pink drinks, each garnished with a maraschino cherry and an edible flower. These he carried first to Hermione, who added a few drops from a small bottle to each. Then he hand one to Ron and another to Neville before returning the tray to the cart and bringing his own drink. He knelt gracefully on the floor next to Ginny, who nodded in approval.

“To a reunion of friends,” she said, raising her glass.

“It’s been far too long since we’ve done this,” said Hermione, clinking glasses with Luna.

“Only because you two are so busy all the time,” replied the blonde, taking a deep sip from her drink.

“True,” said Hermione. “I think we should all take a vacation together in the summer. I can afford to take some time off.”

“It would have to be before training camp,” mused Ginny. “But that could be fun.”

“What’s for dinner?” Asked Luna, who’s stomach had just rumbled.

“Coq au vin,” said Ginny. “Harry’s been perfecting the recipe.”

Harry looked up at his wife, somewhat surprised at the praise.

“One of my favorites,” said Hermione, who was stroking Ron’s hair. “And what’s for desert?”

Ginny only grinned wickedly at that. A soft chime sounded from further in the house

“Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Harry, go finish up. Let’s head to the dining room.”

Harry excused himself to the kitchen and Ron collected the empty glasses while Neville cleaned up the appetizers. The women moved into the dining room, where Harry had already poured wine and was waiting to help them to their seats. Once they were seated, Ron and Neville took positions next to their wives. Harry returned with plates for them all and served everyone, beginning with the women.

The sissies ate largely in silence, keeping their eyes on their plates and speaking only when addressed. Harry kept his eye on the wine level in the women’s glasses and promptly cleared plates when they were empty. He then served apple tart and coffee — for the women only — while Ron and Neville helped tidy the kitchen. The group had returned to the parlor for brandy and cigars — again, for the women only — when the doorbell sounded. The atmosphere of the room changed abruptly: Luna and Hermione perked up, Ron let out a soft moan, and Neville’s eyes widened. Ginny rubbed her legs together and then reached out to spank Harry lightly on the bum.

“Go get the door Harry,” ordered Ginny.

“Right away, Mistress,” said Harry, curtsying.

He returned a few moments later to hold the door open for a small group of very large men: Blaise Zabini, Dean Thomas, Lee Jordan, and Blaise’s younger brother, Darius. Angelina Johnson — George Weasley’s wife — clung to Lee’s arm, and a final small figure followed in their wake on its hands and knees.

All four men were dressed in well-tailored suits and brightly polished shoes. Blaise, the tallest of the four at six foot ten, loomed in a double-breasted black pinstripe suit and matching shirt. A thick gold ring pierced on ear and he was festooned with gold rings and chains. In the years following their graduation from Hogwarts he had shaved his head bald and grown a well-coiffed beard.

Lee, who stood nearly as tall as Blaise, but was more on the wiry side, was flamboyant in a maroon velvet jacket over a paisley shirt. His dreadlocks hung freely around his head. His jewelry was even more prominent than Blaise’s, with rings on every finger, multiple necklaces, several earrings, an eyebrow piercing and a few gold teeth that flashed when he grinned. Angelina — a vision in vibrant yellow silk that clung to her like a second skin — leaned on his arm, stroking it seductively with long, yellow-painted nails.

Dean was shorter than the first two, and more restrained in his fashion. He’d often for a simple, but perfectly tailored, bright blue three-piece suit. Diamonds flashed on his cufflinks and he wore several rings. He sported a short afro and a crisply defined goatee.

Darius was nearly as tall as his brother, but was even more muscled. Like Lee, he kept his hair in locks, though his were kept firm to his head. His suit was a rich chestnut brown that strained over arms like tree trunks. The crawling figure stopped at his feet and knelt. It — he — was Dennis Creavey. Dennis, who lived as Darius’s full-time sissy (and had since their final year at Hogwarts), wore thigh-high pink latex boots, a pink latex micro skirt and tube top, a thick leather collar and had a ring gag in his mouth.

“Good evening, Masters and Mistresses,” said Ron and Neville in unison, kneeling in submission.

“Hello, Masters and Mistresses,” added Hermione, Luna, and Ginny. They dipped their heads but did not kneel.

“Smells nice in here,” said Blaise. “Sissy,” he added to Harry, “get some more of those cigars. And some Cognac.” He emphasized the order with a swat to Harry’s ass.

“Yes, Master Blaise,” said Harry, demurely. “Right away.”

While Harry poured drinks and lit cigars, the new arrivals took seats. Blaise squeezed between Luna and Hermione while Dean took Hermione’s other side. Lee and Angelina settled on either side of Ginny and Darius took a vacant armchair with Dennis — or, Denise, as he was usually called — on his lap. Ron and Neville knelt submissively at their wives’ feet, holding trays for them to rest their drinks.

“Will there be anything else Masters? Mistresses?” Asked Harry, still waiting attentively.

“Nah,” said Dean, puffing casually on his cigar.

“Come here, Harry,” purred Angelina. “I’ve been missing your tongue. All this fanciness gets on my nerves a bit. Someone’s got to break the ice, and, as usual, I think it’s my job.”

Ginny jerked her head at Harry, amplifying the request and he dropped to his kneed in front of Angelina who spread her legs revealing her glistening brown vagina. In addition to the wetness that could only be from her own arousal, streaks of white coated her thighs while. More threatened to ooze out from her lips.

“George filled me up before I left,” she said. “I’d like to be clean before any more fun gets started, but I knew you’d like the treat.”

“Thank you, Mistress Angelina,” said Harry, and ducked his head under her dress, licking the semen from her thighs before turning his attention to her womanhood.

“I must be the luckiest woman ever,” said Angelina, casually. “I get perfectly good dick at home when I need it, and prime beef,” she patted Lee’s thigh, which Ginny had also begun to stroke, “when I need to get stretched. George never gets jealous, and he gets so horny on hearing the details that I always get another solid fuck before bed.”

Harry had finished cleaning the cum from her pussy at this point and begun to focus on bringing her to orgasm. It seemed that Angelina’s moans were a cue to the others. He heard a zipping sound to his left and glanced out of the side of his eye to see Lee fishing his cock out of his trousers, a sight that caused Harry’s own cock, which was, of course, tightly encased in a minuscule metal cage, to swell painfully. He wriggled, pressing the plug filling his anus against his prostate.

“Get that pretty little mouth on my cock, Red,” said Lee, placing his hand on the back of Ginny’s head. She smiled, flicked her braid back over her shoulder, and bent to the task.
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The Happy Hotwives of Hogsmeade