Lightning Strikes Twice Ch. 42 (Harry Potter) (Patreon)

A/N: Fleur interrupts... but is she going to get what she wanted?

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Hermione would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t intend this to happen in some fashion. Ever since Harry had brought her into his confidence, ever since he’d invited her to the Yule Ball, she had desired a deepening in their relationship. No, before that even… Hermione Granger had been crushing on Harry Potter since all the way back in her First Year.

How could she not? It was bad enough that Harry had saved her life from a Cave Troll. But on top of that, he listened to her. He actually took her words into consideration. He used her advice in a way no one ever had before. Of course she’d fallen for him and fallen for him hard. And of course, given an opportunity to show him that, she’d gone ahead and seized ahold of it with both hands.

Bobbing up and down on his cock, the brunette looks up into Harry’s eyes, her tongue swirling around the tip of his dick whenever she’s ascending instead of descending. She can do this all night long if she has to, what with the cushioning charm she cast before dropping to her knees. She’ll stay here as long as it takes to make Harry feel good, and to make sure he understands just how much he means to her.

She’ll-

“Well, well~ What do we have here?”

Hermione’s eyes widen as the familiar accented voice of one Fleur Delacour fills her ears. The heels of the French Witch can be heard clicking on stone as she approaches them, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. How?! How had she found them?! Oh Merlin, was her date with her?

“Fleur.”

Harry’s voice is at least even and controlled as he acknowledges the blonde’s presence. He’s not going to be spooked so easily. But Hermione isn’t him. She doesn’t have his insane self-confidence. Even if she did, she’s certainly not going to continue sucking his cock while another woman watches.

However, just as Hermione is starting to pull back off of his dick, a hand falls upon the back of her head and pushes. Not Harry’s hand… but Fleur’s.

“Oh mon cher, do not stop on my account. I insist. You must continue pleasing your man… how else will you be able to keep him?”

A shiver runs down Hermione’s spine at the layered threat in Fleur’s voice as she speaks directly into the muggleborn’s ear. Was Fleur threatening to steal Harry from her? T-That would never work… would it? Surely not. Harry… he liked her well enough. She couldn’t say for sure that he loved her, not in the same way she loved him, but he wouldn’t just toss her aside like trash, would he?

Desperate worries fill her head and Hermione bobs down Harry’s cock again all of her own volition. Fleur’s hand might be in her hair, but she’s the one choosing to continue sucking her date’s throbbing mast, not wanting him to think she’s in any way slacking. She doesn’t want Harry to abandon her.

“That’s a good girl, mon cher. But if you really want to impress a young man, you need to be ready to reveal more.”

Hermione’s eyes widen as she feels Fleur’s free hand reach around the side and grab at the front of her dress. Surely she wouldn’t, right?!

“Fleur.”

Actually, she probably would have… if Harry hadn’t finally intervened. Hermione shudders as an intense pressure fills the air, blanketing the area around the three of them in a sensation of dense, magical might. For Hermione, it feels almost warm... inviting even. It feels like safety and home and love all wrapped up in one.

She realizes it doesn’t feel like that to Fleur when the blonde lets go of her all of the sudden, both her hands leaving Hermione’s body. Blinking, Hermione finally pulls back off of Harry’s cock now that Fleur’s hand is no longer on the back of her head. She turns to regard the part veela kneeling beside and slightly behind her.

Fleur doesn’t have eyes for her anymore though. She only has eyes for Harry, and they’re currently as wide as they can be as the French Witch trembles there on her knees before him, staring up at Harry with an expression of fear but also wanton lust on her face.

This second time that Harry said Fleur’s name wasn’t anything like the first. This time, his voice was laden with meaning. His tone brooked no argument. And ultimately, he’d shut her down with nothing but that single word.

“You’re interrupting, Fleur.”

“I… I…”

“Why did you think that would be acceptable, I wonder? Is it because you’re used to always getting your way? Is it because under all that haughtiness, arrogance, and over-confidence, you’re just a spoiled little brat?”

Fleur flinches back as if physically struck by Harry’s words. She whimpers, her lower lip wobbling, and for a second Hermione thinks that she might choose to flee the scene right then and there. But then… Fleur’s eyes dart down, caught by the movement of Harry’s still-twitching erection. And once she lays eyes on his length properly, she can’t look away. She freezes in place, just staring at his dick as it leaks a bit of precum from the tip.

Hermione watches on blankly, not quite sure what to do now. Fleur had clearly come in intending to take charge and maybe have some fun with both of them. Instead… well, instead she’d clearly bit off more than she could bargain for. Harry wasn’t the kind of man who let anyone else take charge of him. Especially not these days.

Reaching down, Harry takes ahold of his cock and strokes it in Fleur’s direction before waggling it back and forth. The blonde’s big blue eyes follow it’s every movement unerringly, like a dog with a bone. She can’t look away.

“Is this what you want, Fleur? Is this what you’re so desperate for?”

Shakily, seemingly at a loss for words, Fleur nods her head up and down. The movements are rather jerking, almost like she herself can’t believe what she’s doing. Hermione watches on, finding herself curious by the reaction now. Did it have anything to do with Fleur’s veela heritage? Was that what was at work here? Where part magical creatures like the Beauxbatons Champion more attuned to magic? Could Fleur sense Harry’s magic even better than Hermione could, and found it to be positively exhilarating?

Was she-?

“Hermione.”

Pulled from her thoughts, blushing a little bit at getting caught falling into study mode, Hermione looks up to see Harry smiling warmly down at her.

“This is your night, ‘Mione. Ms. Delacour will leave, if that is your wish. And you and I can move elsewhere, to continue this with a greater level of privacy.”

Her night. Elsewhere. Privacy. Hermione’s blush intensifies a bit as she realizes just how off the rails this has all gotten. She should have ensured privacy before this even started. She should never have decided a small corner of the gardens was ‘good enough’ for her to just drop to her knees and start giving Harry a blowjob!

At the same time… Fleur is looking at her now with big, hopeful eyes. That wasn’t remotely fair in the slightest. Part of her wants to send her away. Part of her wants to let Harry take her ‘elsewhere’ so they can continue. And yet… a larger part of her wants otherwise, made up as it is of two very different ideas. Idea Number One… she can’t look into Fleur’s eyes and not feel a little bit like she wants to give the poor dear what she wants. Idea Number Two… she kind of wants a little bit of revenge on the part veela for interrupting them and trying to act all snooty like she did.

And so… Hermione reaches up, presenting a confident façade that she doesn’t really feel, and grabs Fleur Delacour by her carefully done-up hair bun. The older witch gasps at this, looking at Hermione with wide eyes… but realizing that Hermione holds her ‘fate’ in her hands, Fleur ultimately stays quiet… even as Hermione guides her forward in the same way she’d tried to do, pushing her towards Harry’s throbbing, glistening cock.

As she does this, Hermione also looks up at Harry, giving him a somewhat fragile smile.

“It would be a shame to send her away, Harry. Especially when she can be useful to us.”

Understanding dawns in his emerald eyes, even as he slowly nods. Then, his gaze sharpens as he directs it at Fleur.

“Well, Fleur? Can you be useful to us? Can you be… obedient?”

Fleur shivers, but her eyes dart down to his cock and go crossed at finding it mere centimeters from her lips now.

“Y-Yes…”

They’ve successfully turned the tables on the Beauxbatons Champion. Well, Harry has anyways. Hermione is fully aware that all she’s doing here is building off of his power, his strength. Still, better than nothing. Pushing Fleur forward, she proceeds to guide the older witch down Harry’s cock, watching in a state of fascination as Fleur’s lips spread and spread.

Truthfully, Hermione hadn’t been doing the best with Harry’s member before Fleur showed up. Oh sure, she doubted Harry would ever tell her off, or complain, or do anything but smile and tell her she’d done well. But just because he might not judge her for her inexperience and inadequacies doesn’t mean Hermione won’t judge herself.

She’d tried to practice a little bit with some phallic shapes before the Yule Ball, but nothing she’d done in that regard could have prepared her for Harry’s true size. His cock, once it got hard, was like nothing she’d ever considered possible, and while she could take a few inches into her mouth, anything past that got rather dicey.

The same cannot be said for Fleur… or rather, she just doesn’t seem to care about her own limitations in the way Hermione did.

“Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!”

Hermione is still holding onto Fleur’s hair bun, but it’s Fleur who’s doing all of the work at this point, and in the process taking Harry far deeper down her throat than Hermione would have ever thought possible. The size of Fleur’s dainty neck bulging with Harry’s cock as her cheeks alternate between sucking in and puffing out… its somewhat mesmerizing, truth be told.

Harry’s throbbing member pushes down Fleur Delacour’s esophagus and into her gullet without reservation, and though she chokes, gags, and sputters upon his cock, the part veela never once complains or tries to pull away. Instead, her eyes remain fixed on Harry’s face as Hermione watches on… and Hermione begins to feel as though she might be left behind anyways.

Feeling some small but growing measure of regret at having allowed Fleur this much, Hermione looks for something to do, some way to take back a measure of control… before noticing the sheer amount of saliva and drool coalescing on Fleur’s chin. The French Witch was getting dangerously close to making a mess of her dress, and with that realization combined with Fleur’s last attempt at dominance, an idea comes to Hermione’s mind.

“You’re doing well, Fleur… but you said it yourself. If you really want to impress Harry, you need to be ready to reveal more.”

Letting go of Fleur’s hair bun, Hermione reaches around, grabs the front of the other witch’s dress, and pulls it down. The straps of the dress come off of Fleur’s shoulders with ease, allowing for the top of the dress to fall away from her otherwise naked breasts. There’s no way to wear a bra with a dress like the one Fleur has on, though to be fair, Hermione didn’t know if Fleur wore bras in the first place.

Regardless, Fleur’s pale, perfectly shaped tits are now out in the open… and Hermione wastes no time in playing with them, mostly for Harry’s viewing pleasure. Looking up into her date and long-time crush’s green eyes, Hermione gives him a coy grin as she fondles Fleur’s tits, squeezing and pinching at the blonde’s nipples.

Fleur squeaks, squeals, and mewls, all sounds muffled by Harry’s cock… and indeed, all sounds that vibrate up and down the length of his dick as she deep throats his member. The added pleasure of this experience has Fleur moaning up a storm, which in turn has Harry groaning all the more loudly. Until finally…

“I’m getting close, ladies. Hermione, where should I cum?”

“Mmph! Hulghk!”

Fleur’s inaudible protest along with her driving herself deeper down his cock make it obvious where SHE wants him to cum. She wants his seed right down the back of her throat. She wants to swallow, and from the look of things, she wants it desperately. Hermione’s earlier musings on Fleur’s attraction to Harry being something to do with her veela heritage and natural instincts to seek out large sources of magic come back to the forefront for a moment before she quickly gets herself back under control.

Truthfully, Hermione is greatly tempted to have Harry cum all over Fleur’s face and tits. The French Witch will be able to clean it all up with a single spell, but it’ll still be humiliating in the moment, and it would teach her right. And yet… Hermione wasn’t a terribly vindictive person… or at least she liked to think she wasn’t. So in the end…

“Make her swallow it, Harry. Make her drink every last drop.”

Fleur freezes for a moment, before desperately sucking Harry’s cock all the harder, her cheeks suctioning in quite impressively. Chuckling, Harry shrugs his shoulders and then plants a hand on top of Fleur Delacour’s head, holding her steady as he proceeds to cum down the back of her throat.

The blonde’s neck convulses as she swallows and swallows, guzzling it all down. There’s nothing prim or proper about her actions, nothing to be admired, and certainly nothing graceful or elegant. Still, she drinks pretty much all of it, save for a single line of white, viscous seed that drizzles down the side of her otherwise pristine, perfect features.

As Harry finishes cumming and lets go of Fleur’s hair, Hermione blinks, the part veela collapsing back into her arms and shuddering in orgasmic bliss. Hermione’s mouth opens and then closes without uttering a word as she takes in the sight of Fleur Delacour, clearly having just climaxed explosively, her eyes rolled back in her head in utter bliss.

“Shall we go, Hermione? She got what she wanted, in the end… and if she wanted more, she should have asked for it don’t you think? But you... well, the night is still young. And I think you deserve a reward for being so magnanimous.”

Hermione blushes, before glancing down at Fleur’s insensate form. Harry was right, they’d given Fleur what she wanted. And Hermione was very excited to find out what her reward would be.

And yet…