Harry the Stud (Patreon)

Vernon had been having a terrible week.

It had started off with that horrible Monday morning when Petunia had woken him up screaming. Vernon had rumbled down the stairs, not an easy thing to do for someone of his considerable girth, to find his wife holding up a basket containing some brat, who was now wailing like a maniac and ruining the Dursley family's perfectly maintained sense of normalcy.

All of a sudden, they had another mouth to feed, another young child to take care of. Worst of all, they weren't sure what they were supposed to do. Were they really supposed to let this freak just… play with their precious Dahlia? She could become contaminated with his unnaturalness!

Unfortunately, this complicated things further, as Petunia was forced to look after two children in two separate rooms. Of course, they mostly just ignored the brat, leaving him to his own devices. But there were some things that simply had to be done. Diapers needed to be changed, and while they'd definitely thought it, they knew they couldn't just let the little freak starve. No, that letter from the old man had made it quite clear. They couldn't let the boy die.

Needless to say, life at home had been hell. The office had been a place that Vernon had gone to to escape it all. At Grunnings, he could submerge himself in sales figures. Well, that was for the pencil pushers down on the other floor. Vernon spent most his time shooting the shit with the other salesmen, making inappropriate jokes about the secretaries, racist jokes about people they'd seen on the telly, things of that nature.

Except, even here it seemed that everyone was hellbent on torturing him. Mr. Weatherby, his boss, had come in crowing about how his son had been picked up by the Tottenham youth team. That had led to an explosion of every Tom, Dick and Robert (not Harry) talking about their son's achievements.

Steven from two cubicles down talked about how his fifteen year old son was a track star and was already getting eyes from the English National Team. Then that bastard Frank, Mr. Top Salesman five months in a row, had to pipe in and talk about how his son was a chess prodigy.

Bah! He was actually proud that his son was some egghead. And worse of all, the other guys weren't even making fun of him!

"Chin up, Vernon." Paul, his one time mentor when he'd first broken into the company, slapped him on the back. "You've got dance recitals and gymnastics classes to look forward to."

Everyone roared with laughter as Vernon's face turned beet red.

"Come on, Vernon, cheer up. We're just having a laugh. Besides, you're still young, you still have time to have a son." Frank said.

"Not if he doesn't lay off those sausages he wont."

Even more laughter followed. Vernon wriggled his mustache, ignoring the laughter and the jokes as the guys continued to talk about their amazing sons.

The truth was, Vernon had been adamant about trying for a son right after Dahlia was born. But after a difficult pregnancy, the doctor had pretty much told them that they would be unable to have another child, a combination of Petunia's inhospitable womb and Vernon's extremely low sperm count. Apparently, Dahlia's conception had been nothing short of a miracle.

Vernon was now being reminded of his greatest humiliation. He had no male heir, no one to boast about their accomplishments. No one to live vicariously through, to project his frustrated hopes and dreams onto.

No, instead he had a daughter. A precious little girl, but someone who he couldn't exactly put up to play rugby. He had a daughter, a wife, and now a freakshow of a nephew. He cringed just imagining their future. Petunia had told him about her sister, about the things she would do. Unnatural. Like the time she'd jumped off a swing and ended up halfway across the playground.

To think, a child, barely six years old, being able to leap such distances. Truly, those freaks were…

It was almost as if something shifted in his brain. His abhorrence of anything unnatural clashed against his supreme sense of pride, his need to be the alpha male amongst his peers, to be able to boast.

The war continued to wage the rest of the day. On his drive home, he simmered over it in his mind.

He considered himself a good person. Strike that, he considered himself a great person. And what great person wouldn't take their poor, orphaned nephew under their wing?

With a fre-unique boy like little Harry, he would show them all. His boy would be greater than all the others. None of those idiots would be able to look Vernon in the eyes.

…

"Watch out for his jab, Harry! Its lightning quick!"

Vernon held back a snort. Harry didn't have to watch out for anything. He had the other boy on a string, and the only reason the sparring session wasn't over was because Harry was toying with the other boy.

There was quite a crowd here at Mikes' Boxing gym. No matter how much the legend spread, there were still people that doubted the stories about the young boy who was humiliating boys far older than him.

Today's victim was a fifteen year old boy who was currently the British champion at one-hundred and forty pounds. Not only was he five years older than the ten year old Harry, but he had about six inches in height and thirty pounds on him.

It didn't matter. Harry battered the other boy with rapid fire punches. Of course, it might have been expected that the smaller fighter would be lighter on their feet, but the problem for the older boy was that Harry wasn't just faster, he was stronger.

He wasn't peppering him with light little love taps. He was hammering him with machine gun blows, each of which left his older opponent dazed and disoriented.

Even with the protective head gear and mouth guard, the fourteen year old felt as if he was being hit by a truck.

Finally, after a solid hook connected with the side of his abdomen and the boy was forced to a knee as the wind was knocked out of him completely.

"Alright, that's enough!" Yelled the boy's coach, who looked mighty pissed that his protege had been dominated by a little brat.

One of the many England national coaches that had been attending this sparring session looked at Vernon with barely contained awe. "I'll be honest with you, Mr. Dursley, I was very skeptical at first. But your nephew is the real deal, more than that, he might be the greatest prospect we've ever seen!"

Vernon smirked proudly. From beside him Mike, Harry's coach and the owner of the gym, began to gush.

"The boy's a damn freak of nature." Vernon managed to contain his flinch as he heard that particular word. "He can run the hundred meters in under twelve seconds! I've seen the boy run half-marathons and be able to spar right after. And he's strong as an ox. You see him there all thin and wiry, but the little bugger can squat almost three hundred pounds."

"Three hundred pounds?" The representative's eyes almost popped out of his socket. "That shouldn't be humanly possible. What are you feeding this kid?"

Vernon chuckled, "just good, hearty home cooking."

When they pulled up to the driveway of number four, Vernon made sure to slam his car door just a little bit louder, just so all the neighbors could see him strut proudly into his home with his strapping young nephew in tow. Harry was the talk of Surrey, the local newspapers had already run multiple articles on this wonderkid, and he was starting to reach the level of national news. The Sun was set to run a piece on him in a few days!

"Tunia, we're home!" Vernon bellowed.

"We're just finishing up in the kitchen, dear!" His wife answered.

Vernon gave Harry a nod. "Go sit at the table, boy. I'll make your protein shake."

"Sure thing, uncle Vernon."

Harry headed over to the dining room, walking around to his chair. Harry's chair was different from all the others. It had extra padding, making it much more comfortable than the other ones. Vernon wanted Harry to train hard, but when he wasn't training, he made sure that the boy was as comfortable as possible. He'd been told that recovery was important, and he wanted his cashc-nephew to be in perfect condition.

Harry waited for only a few moments before the rest of the Dursley family paraded out of the kitchen. His cousin Dahlia and his aunt Petunia were carrying the serving trays full of food, while uncle Vernon had a large cup full of Harry's protein shake.

Dahlia, a cute, skinny blonde with light blue eyes, served her cousin as she'd always been taught.

"More chicken, Harry?"

"Of course he wants more chicken! Give that boy all the protein he needs!"

Even if Harry didn't want an entire household's worth of chicken, he wasn't about to argue with his uncle. And besides, he had such a voracious appetite, he was going to devour his plate in no time.

And so he did, as Dahlia and Petunia ate their modest portions of chicken, green beans and sweet potato, and as Vernon pulled out his greasy double-bacon burger and fries from McDonalds, Harry absolutely ravished his meal and protein shake.

Petunia looked disgusted as she watched her nephew eat like a savage, leaving smudge marks all over her fine tablecloth. "H-Harry dear, could you maybe eat a bit slower?"

"Nonsense!" Vernon bellowed, grease running down his chin as he ate. "Let the boy eat, Petunia!"

Petunia bit her tongue as Harry rapidly vacuumed his meal. Then, with a loud burp that sent particles of food flying onto his aunt's face, Harry pushed back from the chair.

"Can I go to my room now?" He asked.

"Of course you can, boy!"

Harry smiled, glancing over at his cousin. "Can I take Dahlia with me?"

Petunia's breath hitched. She wanted to slap the boy across the face, to shove him into a cupboard and lock him up for months on end, but she followed her husband's lead, and Vernon only grinned.

"Of course, of course! Dahlia, pet, go help your cousin relax!"

Dahlia blushed as Harry tugged at her hand. She wasn't even halfway through her meal! Still, she definitely didn't mind helping her cousin relax..

"Alright. Daddy."

And with that, the two cousins ran off, disappearing up the stairs and over to Harry's room.

Petunia and Vernon ate in silence for a few moments before the banging started. Harry's headboard was banging loudly against the wall. This was soon followed by high-pitched moans and slightly lower-pitched, guttural growls.

Petunia's face was beet-red. "Vernon!" She hissed. "Are we really going to allow this? Under our roof?"

Vernon raised an eyebrow. "Of course we are."

"Its incest!"

Vernon shook his head. "Petunia, you are narrow minded. Harry needs to relieve his stress. And our little girl is just helping keep our nephew centered."

What Vernon hadn't told Petunia was that he'd had a few talks with Harry, letting him know that Dahlia was his property, and that he should do his best to come inside of her.

Vernon knew that once the boy turned eleven, things would be different. He'd go off to that school, and while he would still be boxing in the summers, there was always the chance that he was taken in by those freaks and lost track of his goals.

By letting him know that his cousin was his responsibility, Vernon was tying the boy to them, giving him an extra incentive to return, and hopefully once he was done with that school, to become the greatest athlete in the history of the world. Managed by Vernon, of course.

That was one perk. The other perk was that, if he knocked Dahlia up, there was a high chance that his daughter would give birth to more of his kind. His grandchildren would be raised just lile the boy, and Vernon would have an empire of elite athletes. Perhaps, if he had enough of them, he could field an entire football team and take the English league by storm in a few decades. Maybe they could even win England the world cup!

Vernon had big, big plans. And Dahlia keeping Harry happy was a crucial part of those plans.

Upstairs, Harry was more than Happy. His slight cousin had her arms wrapped around his neck as Harry pounded her into the mattress. Her legs were squeezing his waist, feet pushing up against his bum as Harry crushed her little pelvis with hard strokes. Dahlia kissed his neck as he continued to destroy her, beating her underage pussy with his hard rod, leaving her fluttering walls aching with pain and pleasure as he rearranged her insides.

Her cousin's body glistened with sweat as he expertly stroked into Dahlia's young pussy with a dancer's rhythm. His hands, the palms rough and calloused like an older man's would be, went to grab her own. Dahlia let him hold her hands above her head as she gazed up at the stud of a boy who had been fucking her raw every day for the past two years.

Her heart fluttered as she hungrily took in his abs that no ten year old should have. Even before her father had encouraged her, Dahlia had made sure to always be there for her cousin. She would massage his back and his feet when he came home from training, she was his biggest cheerleader when he played football, and she followed him around at school, carrying his bags for him.

Even at an early age, Dahlia could tell her cousin was special. Not only was he an amazing athlete and full of charisma, but he was even brilliant at school, effortlessly getting top marks in every subject.

When daddy had explained that Harry was actually magic on top of that, well, Dahlia knew she had to stay by his side.

She was unremarkable in many ways. Her grades lagged, to the point where she might have a learning disability. She lacked special talents, evidenced by the disastrous piano lessons with Ms. Figg when she was five.

The one thing Dahlia had going for her was that she was a relatively cute blonde and blue eyed girl.

But she knew even that wasn't guaranteed to continue. Even she could see that her parents were not the most attractive of people. That was why she did all she could to look appealing to Harry, after all, she might not be special, but if she could get her stud of a cousin to take care of her, then she'd be set.

And so, Dahlia had dedicated herself to making sure she could please him. Right now, as her breath hitched with each thrust and her eyes threatened to roll to the back of her head, she remembered to squeeze her pussy around him just like he liked it, to push her flat chest up against his own, to moan just how she knew drove him wild.

Harry captured her earlobe in his mouth, nibbling and licking away as he pushed into her and began grinding his steel-hard cock directly against her tender walls.

“H-Harry!” Dahlia felt her pussy fluttering. She squeezed her legs even tighter than before, feeling her orgasm fast approaching but knowing this wasn't about her, it was about him. It was about Harry relieving his pent up energy. It was about her showing him she could be a good little housewife for him.

She wasn't going to let a small thing like them being first cousins keep her from her ultimate goal.

Harry grunted and Dahlia felt him twitch inside of her. She came just at the thought that in a few years, these thick ropes of cum he was shooting inside of her would get her pregnant, would fill her womb up with his babies. Would mark her even more as his woman.

Harry had just recently started producing real live semen, and he let the hot jets flood his cousin's tight little snatch. He looked down at Dahlia, who returned his gaze with submissive eyes, and he knew then that she was and always would be his.

…

Harry hopped off the train, having just graduated from his seventh year at Hogwarts.

Ever since he'd taken care of the so-called dark lord back in his fourth year, things had settled down. Well, in terms of life-threatening dangers at least. Harry had plowed through most of the hottest witches in school. He had a rich slytherin bitch beggin him to marry her, a pair of french veela sisters who were craving another round with his cock.

Harry had learned how to juggle all these women, but no matter how attractive they all were, Harry would never forget where he came from.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were there to greet him. But Harry hardly spared them a glance. He had eyes only for his cousin. His hot, fat tittied and thick assed cousin.

Dahlia was holding the hand of their oldest child, three year old James. She was cradling one year old Rhea and she had a big, round belly that was carrying their soon to be born third.

Harry pulled her towards him posessively and Dahlia squealed in delight.

Uncle Vernon was a bit nervous. He wasn't sure if Harry would actually commit to the Olympics in two years.

Harry would assure him that he had nothing to worry about. He would go to the Olympics and go pro, making himself and his uncle very rich men.

Harry squeezed Dahlia's tight bum. They would move away from Privet Drive, but he wanted one last night of passionate, incestuous lovemaking with his cousin in the place where it all began.