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Underneath the hot sun on a midsummer day, Harry Potter was doing what he did best: gardening. He discovered his talent for it when he was quite young. His mother, Lily Potter, took great pride in keeping her garden and yard at Godric’s Hollow in tip-top shape, so it was only natural that Harry spent a lot of time outdoors with her when he was young. His first bit of accidental magic—that he could remember—was pulling out every single weed along the fence in their backyard. Ever since then, Harry’s green thumb had only grown.


His dad swore that he spent more time outside than indoors. Every year up until he went off to Hogwarts, Harry would be outside from sun-up to sunset. A flurry of carefully-laid enchantments by his mother protected him when it was raining, so he could still work on the garden even on rainy and gloomy days. When he’d visit at friend’s houses, like Neville’s or Ron’s, Harry would immediately gravitate towards the gardens and greenhouses.


To the surprise of no one, Harry took to Herbology and Charms like none other at Hogwarts. He excelled in those classes and, after he received his O.W.L.s, he even helped Professors Sprout and Flitwick prepare material for the younger students. Professor Sprout even allowed Harry a small plot inside of Greenhouse Five to use to grow whatever he wanted. It was clear to everyone that he was destined for great things once he officially graduated.


But Harry still had one more year to go. One more year until he was free to pursue a Mastery, or go on to work with any number of esteemed herbologists or charms masters. He still wasn’t sure which he’d rather do, but his innate green thumb was leading him towards working for a herbologist; luckily, charms work was very important in the care and maintenance of magical plants.


Harry wiped the sweat off his brow with great pride as he examined his work. He’d just finished transferring a freshly-bloomed set of peonies from the small greenhouse in their backyard to the front garden.


“Oh, Harry, those look lovely,” Lily gushed as she approached her son from behind. She was dressed in her normal gardening attire: some old blue jeans that had half a dozen patches stitched overtop of various holes and a light plaid shirt over her white tank top. Her shirt ruffled in the wind as she crouched down beside Harry. “You’ve been such a wonderful help this summer.”


Harry blushed and ducked his head. His mum was always singing his praises to anyone who would listen. “Thanks,” he smiled at her. “I’m just glad I was able to get them out of the greenhouse in time for the Dittany to arrive. Sirius told me he’s nearly used up the last batch we sent him.”


Lily rolled her eyes and laughed. “That man. He’s too old to be out in the field, just like Ja-” Lily cut herself off, her demeanour suddenly shifting to something sad.


Harry grimaced and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure that if dad were still around, he’d still be out in the field with Sirius. He’d never let himself get tied down at a desk, even if it meant refusing a promotion to become the Head Auror.”


Lily gave a weak smile. “I know he would; your father was such a stubborn man.”


“I did manage to convince Sirius to join us on our vacation in a few weeks,” Harry told her, trying to brighten her spirits. It was always hard talking about James; he’d been gone for nearly eight years now, but Lily still struggled without him around. She was trying to move, and she’d even gone on a few dates in recent years, but it was still hard. Harry did his best to be there for her when she needed him.


Thankfully, his words did perk Lily up a bit. “Oh, that’s wonderful! It’ll be nice to see him, Remus, and Tonks; it’s been too long since we’ve gotten together.”


Harry snorted in amusement. “We had them over for supper just a couple weeks ago.”


“Don’t you remember just how much they used to visit way back when?” Lily asked. “Him, Sirius, and Remus were inseparable; they practically lived here.” She let out a sad sigh, reminiscing.


Harry suddenly threw his arm around his mother and squeezed her tight. He knew she wouldn’t mind the dirt and soil on his arm getting on her clothes. Lily squeezed him back. “If it’ll make you feel better, we can squeeze them into the guest room,” Harry joked lightly as he released his mother.


Lily chuckled and absentmindedly brushed the dirt off of her shirt. “As funny as that would be, I’d prefer not to be woken up to spellfire in the night whenever one of them decides to hog the blankets.”


That would be just like them; no matter how mature Remus seemed, he and Sirius always seemed to be getting into little bickering scraps like an old married couple would. Though, more often than not, Sirius was willing to escalate towards pranks if he didn’t get his way.


“Oh, I almost forgot,” Lily said, lightly smacking the side of her head. “I was talking with Emma about how much work you’d been doing around the garden and how wonderful you were at it, and she was wondering if you’d be willing to go over this afternoon to help her with her garden. Apparently, it’s been in a frightful state for some time now and nothing she does to try to fix it seems to work.”


Emma Granger, Hermione’s mother, was a lovely woman. After her husband passed several years ago, she and Lily had bonded closely as they helped each other handle the grief of losing their husbands. She was a regular staple at the Potter household, especially since Hermione was one of Harry’s closest friends.


“You’d have to be careful with using your magic since she has quite a few neighbours close by, but knowing how good James was at sneakily using magic in the muggle world, I’m sure that you’ll manage,” Lily chuckled. “Now that you’re of age, I’m sure that helping her won’t take very long at all.”


Still hearing that last bit sent a thrill up Harry’s back. He was finally of age, and it made his work taking care of the garden so much easier! He didn’t have to get rid of weeds by hand anymore—though he still did around a few of the more delicate plants that he couldn’t risk a stray spell accidentally hitting—and he could transfer plants so much more easily when he could just levitate them. In his first week back, Harry had been so determined to use magic as much as he could that he ended up in bed one day with a case of magical exhaustion. He was more careful after that, but he still relished in being able to use magic to help out.


“Of course, I’d be happy to go help out Mrs Granger,” Harry told his mum. It’d be nice to see her and Hermione again, and Harry was so excited to get to try out his magic on another garden.


“Great!” Lily beamed at him and leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. “She said you can head over any time.”


PAGE BREAK


After he cleaned up the gardening tools around Godric’s Hollow, Harry quickly apparated to an isolated alleyway nearby the Granger’s home. It was empty when he arrived there with a quiet cracking sound, and so he hurried out onto the streets. The sun was warm here in London too. As much as Harry couldn’t wait to get back to work, he also couldn’t wait to take a nice shower when he got home to wipe away all of the accumulated sweat and dirt on his skin.


It only took a few minutes to reach Hermione’s small, suburban home. It was a nice house with a large front and back yard and a short hedgerow that lined the border of the yard. It was only one and a quarter metres tall or so, but that’d be enough to hide most of the spells he needed to use. Despite his mum relaying that the Granger’s garden was apparently a disaster, the front garden didn’t look too bad. Maybe the back would be worse.


Harry knocked on the front door. There was no reply.


He knocked again. This time, he heard a voice shout.


“I’m in the back!” Emma Granger’s voice called out from around the side of the house.


Harry hurried around the side of the house to the back garden. Like the front, a nice hedgerow lined the property, but the rest of the garden was quite different. Shrubbery was torn up and piled into heaps on the dirty grass, and a small vegetable patch looked like it’d been struck by a gouging spell.


Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he immediately froze up when he saw what was right in front of him.


Harry had always known that Emma was an attractive woman. She was a stunning, lithe MILF with small breasts and a perfect ass. He’d spent more than one joint summer vacation ogling her in her bikini, though he tried his best to avoid getting caught doing it. It’d gotten easier to ignore her beauty as he grew up, but there were still some days that she caught him off guard.


Emma was bent over in front of him, treating him to a perfect view of her behind. She was wearing blue daisy dukes that just barely covered the curve of her arse, and she was wearing a loose yellow top. With her bent over like this, the hem of Emma’s shirt was just barely grazing the grass, and Harry could see the underside of her small, pale breasts jiggling as she picked something up from the ground.


In that moment, Harry felt his blood roar and a strong desire to rush over and grab her arse in his hands. He had to clench his hands into fists and close his eyes to regain control over himself.


“There you are, Harry,” Emma said. There was a brief pause. “What are you doing exactly?”


Harry opened his eyes to see Emma staring at him in confusion. She blew a few stray strands of her dark-brown hair out of her face. Harry’s face immediately flushed; he must have looked like an absolute moron standing around awkwardly like he had been. “Ah, sorry,” he coughed. “Got a bit of pollen in my eye,” he lied.


“Sorry dear,” Emma grimaced. “It’s been blowing in all day from across the way.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and stuffed it back into the waistband of her daisy dukes, but that just lowered the neckline of her shirt, showing off a bit more cleavage than she probably realised. “Lily said now that you’re of age, you’ve been able to do so much more work around the garden. I was hoping that you’d be able to help me out a bit here,” she said, gesturing around helplessly at the mess all around her.


Right, he needed to focus on the task at hand. That’d get his thoughts off of Emma’s perfect arse—


“I’d be happy to help!” Harry blurted out, stopping his thoughts before they could go any further. “Where would you like me to start?”


Emma smiled at him and gestured to the mess behind her. Harry peered around her to see various gardening tools, bags of topsoil, and potted plants littering the grass around an exposed garden that sat just a few metres past the wall of the house where it could be hit by plenty of sunlight. “I’ve been trying to get these plants moved into the dirt there, but I haven’t exactly managed to do a very good job,” Emma laughed.


That was a slight understatement. There were several small holes that had started to take shape, but they weren’t large or deep enough to house any of the plants. The spacing was all uneven too, so the plants wouldn’t look particularly nice once they were placed in the dirt.


“And if it's not too much trouble, I’d really appreciate it if you could clear away some of the dead plants back there,” Emma said, gesturing to the stack of dead shrubbery on the grass. 


“Sure, I’d be happy to take care of all of that,” Harry smiled at her. Truly, he would. Gardening was such a joy. “Are you sure that’s it? This won’t take me very long.”


Emma’s face lit up. “Really? Well, if you’re sure . . .”


After a few minutes of explaining everything that needed to get fixed up, Harry set to work. He kept his wand stashed in the right-hand pocket of his jeans, only pulling it out when he was sure that no one else was around to spy on him. With a few carefully placed charms, he soon had all of Emma’s gardening tools working automatically to dig new holes for her plants, clear away the excess debris, and tidy up the entire yard.


It was like a well-conducted orchestra. Everything was in its proper place, and all of the various tools worked in harmony to achieve a superb goal. Harry oversaw it all, making adjustments when necessary and chipping in when his own two hands would be more effective than his magic could be. It was taxing but thoroughly rewarding work, and Emma watched on with a look of awe in her eyes.


“This is incredible,” she murmured to Harry as a trash bag full of dead shrubbery went flying past her. “Imagine how much time could be saved if everyone had magic.”


“At least you’ve got a daughter who could help out,” Harry said good-naturedly. “I’ll give Hermione a sheet with a list of spells she can use to help maintain—”


Harry paused at Emma’s pout. “But if she does it, then I won’t get to see you as much.”


Harry flushed a little, which made Emma laugh. “Right.”


Emma placed a hand on his shoulder. “As brilliant as my daughter is, I know she’s not fond of this type of work. She’d rather research rare plant species than help maintain a simple garden like this. That’s why I’m so grateful that you’re around.”


For a second, Harry swore that Emma was flirting with him, but he brushed that thought aside. “Speaking of her, is she home?”


“No,” Emma answered with a slight shake of her head. “She’s off visiting Lunar—”


“Luna,” Harry corrected gently.


“Luna at her house,” Emma finished. “She should be back in a couple hours though.”


“Well, the garden should be done by then,” Harry grinned as he twisted his wand, pulling a dozen plants out of their pots and sending them flying into their new homes in the earth. Emma made an impressed sound and threw her arms around Harry, squeezing him tightly. 


“You’re brilliant,” she murmured in his ear.


Harry was grateful for the hug because it helped hide his blushing face, but he was growing concerned by the pressure building in his pants. He could feel that Emma wasn’t wearing a bra today, and just the knowledge of that was making him stiffen rapidly.


He pulled away from the hug before he could poke her. “Thanks,” he said hurriedly as he started jogging over to the other side of the garden so that Emma wouldn’t see the bulge in his jeans. “But I’ve still got a lot more to get done.”


Emma took the hint. “I’ll leave you to work then. Please, come inside and see me when you’re done. I can’t wait to see what this place looks like,” she smiled at him.


Left to his own devices, Harry was able to cool himself back down. What he was thinking was preposterous; Emma wasn’t interested in him like that. Being at home most of the summer without having women his age to interact with was starting to get to his head. Maybe he’d take a trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow to see if he could find someone that piqued his interest. It’d been a few months since he and Ginny split up, and she’d been the only one he’d ever been intimate with.


Harry shook the thought from his head. Now wasn’t the time to think about what he could get up to with a pretty witch. 


The rest of the garden was easily handled. Without magical maladies or pests to deal with, it was surprisingly easy to get the garden back into proper order. All it took was a bit of love and care, and a healthy dose of magic, and the back garden was looking wonderful. The grass was clean and trimmed, the garden beds were full of colourful plants, and the small vegetable patch was ready for planting. Everything that needed to be cleared away was, and it was a simple matter to return all of Emma’s gardening tools back to their proper place in the small shed she had at the side of her house.


“Almost forgot,” Harry muttered to himself as he reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a small brown sack that fit easily into the palm of his hand and reached inside of it. His fingers found the silvery powder inside and, with a well-practised hand, gathered a pinch of it. He sprinkled the powder around the garden; it was a little alchemical concoction of his own creation that helped a garden flourish. The powder vanished as it touched the grass, and everything suddenly took on a slightly more vibrant hue. It was subtle now, but it’d be more obvious in a week.


After giving things one last look over, Harry walked up to the back door and let himself into the Granger’s kitchen. 


Emma was sitting at their dining table sipping on a glass of lemonade. “Harry!” She exclaimed cheerfully. She grabbed an empty glass and filled it to the brim with lemonade from the pitcher on the table. “Here, you must be exhausted.”


He wasn’t, but he was quite sweaty. “Thanks,” he replied as he accepted the drink from her. He gulped half of it down in a few seconds.


“Thank you so much for taking care of the garden,” Emma told him sincerely. “I’ve been struggling with it so much; you really don’t know just how much I appreciate it.”


“No thanks necessary,” Harry replied with an easy smile. He wiped away some of the sweat from his brow. “I’m always happy to help out.”


“You look like you need a shower,” Emma giggled quietly.


“Sorry,” Harry grimaced as he looked down at his sweat-covered forearm. 


“No, please, I don’t mind,” Emma assured him. She leaned forward and the neckline of her shirt drooped low enough to reveal her still-perky breasts. Like him, her skin was covered in sweat, but the glistening of her breasts just made them all the more attractive to Harry. “Say, why don’t you take a shower here? I’ll get your clothes through the wash while you’re in there.”


“I can just clean them magically,” Harry replied, forcing his eyes away from Emma’s chest.


“Nonsense,” Emma waved him off. “Even Hermione says that there’s nothing quite like the muggle way of cleaning clothes. Magic can’t solve all of your problems.”


Harry was tempted to refuse anyway—he was starting to feel a little concerned about his growing attraction to Emma—but the look on her face made him reconsider. “Alright,” he reluctantly agreed.


“Excellent!” Emma beamed. “You can use the shower in my room; it’s much bigger and nicer than the one Hermione uses. Just leave your clothes on the floor in my room and I’ll get them through the wash.”


Harry downed the rest of his lemonade and stood up. “Thanks, Mrs Granger.”


“Please,” Emma rolled her eyes. “How many times have I told you to call me Emma.”


“Too many, Mrs Granger,” Harry said teasingly.


Emma smacked his butt as he walked past and laughed when he jumped. “Get upstairs and into the shower young man.”


Harry hurried upstairs, bypassing the usual route to Hermione’s room and instead heading to Emma’s room. It was nice and clean and open. Her bed took up a decent portion of the room, but there wasn’t much else in there to cover the floor. The door to the bathroom was already open, and Harry sighed happily at the sight of the large walk-in shower. 


He closed the door to Emma’s bedroom behind him and quickly peeled off his clothes. They clung to his sweaty skin, but the feeling of taking them off was too heavenly to make him care. He folded up all of his clothes neatly and set them down in a pile on the floor before he stepped into Emma’s bathroom. He closed this door too and then hurried into the shower.


As he was turning the shower on, he heard Emma enter her bedroom. “I’ll be back with a towel in a couple minutes,” she told him. “Feel free to get in the shower now though.”


Harry didn’t waste any time; he immediately opened the glass door and stepped inside of the shower before closing it behind him. He turned the water on, making it cold enough to help cool him down without leaving him shivering, and basked in the sensation of the water running down his skin. It was incredible as to how refreshing this simple act was.


He’d barely been in the shower for more than a minute when the door started to crack open. The glass walls of the shower were perfectly clear, so he could see everything in the bathroom and anyone could see him. Feeling a little awkward, he turned away from the door and waited for Emma to drop off the towel and leave.


There was a rustling of cloth and the sound of the door closing just a second later. Letting out a deep sigh, Harry ran his hand through his hair and stretched. 


Then, the shower door opened.

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