La Blue Wizarda HP fanfic by canoncansodoff

A/N:  This is only half of what I wanted to post as the next chapter in this story, but as it has been ages since I've posted something, and I've reached the 4k word mark, I thought to post this first half as a stand-alone chapter.

Warning:  Chapter includes graphical descriptions of parents having sex.

 

 

Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

oo00OO00oo 

Chapter 14 – Family Business

Early on the morning of the first match of the Hogwarts Quidditch Season…very early…James Potter threw back the blankets on his bed, bounced over to the bedroom windows, and drew open the curtains.

“Why are you standing there naked?” Lily moaned, as she pulled her portion of blankets closer and guarded against the predawn chill.

Her husband pulled his head back in from the opened windows and announced, “Checking for overnight owls.”

The auburn-haired witch rolled her eyes.  “For Merlin’s sake…you told Harry to use the mirror to let us know if he received a last-minute game-day detention.”

“Yes, but what if Snivellous or Dumbledore confiscated it?” James asked.  “You know they wouldn’t allow him to keep a direct means of communication with us if it was discovered.”

“And if they did that, do you really think that they’d then let him inform us of that fact via owlpost?”

“Bah…never know with those two,” said James, as he closed the windows, turned back towards the bed, and cast a Tempus spell.

“Five-fifteen…too early to wake the girls and get them dressed for the game?”

“Don’t you dare!” Lily hissed.  “We’ve got guests sleeping just down the hallway, remember?”

“So?”

“So I’ll not have them bothered by your noisy game-day rituals and antics before sunrise!”

“Are you not a witch?” asked James.  “Besides, you cast the silencing charms around the guest bedroom yourself.”

“The answer is still no.”

“But Lils…sunrise is at least an hour away!”

“Which is why you should still be in bed.”

“Too much energy to fall back asleep,” James protested.  “Unless you wanted to…”

“No,” Lily replied sharply.  “I’m staying underneath the covers.”

“But why? You know how much I love to admire your body.”

“Because it’s too cold?”

“Are you not a witch?”

“Are you not my husband, and know that warming charms aren’t the same as blankets for me?”

“Okay, so we’ll just stay underneath the covers.”

“As if that has ever worked, once your tentacles start flailing about!”

“Is that a complaint?” James asked.  

Lily turned away from her husband and pulled one of his pillows over the top of her head.  

“No, it’s a statement of fact,” she mumbled through the linens.

“Okay, fine,” James pouted.  

Since he was already out of bed and more than half-way to the en suite bath, the black-haired wizard left the bedroom long enough to empty his bladder and banish his morning breath…just in case.  He returned to the room with minty teeth and a devilish idea that got him more than a little horny.

And more than a little tentacled.

Two of James’s extra appendages extended out towards Lily’s vanity, and grabbed hold of its cloth-covered bench.  The piece of furniture was lifted up off the carpeted floor and carried in a graceful arc over both their bed and James’s head.  When the bench came to rest just behind the demi-demon, he uncoiled his tentacles from its wooden legs, and quietly sat down.

James used the dim light that came through the windows to examine the blanket-covered form of his wife.  He smiled, and reached down for his bits while his tentacles extended out and snaked underneath the bed covers.

When the tips of his probing tentacles touched Lily’s legs, she hissed, “James! What are you doing!”

“Snuggling,” he replied innocently.

Lily’s leg muscles tensed as tentacles coiled around each of her legs like the railing of a spiral staircase.  Some of that tension was immediately relieved, though, when the remaining two limbs began to massage her upper back.

“Snuggling my arse!” she half-heartedly complained, as she turned onto to her stomach.

“If you wish,” quipped James, as the tips of his coiled limbs darted up and prodded the meaty parts of her buttocks.

“Hmmmmmm…” Lily moaned involuntarily.  She pulled the pillow from her head and asked, “Are you certain that the silencing charms are still up within our bedroom?”

James snorted as he reinforced the magical noise barriers.  “Why would we need silencing charms if all we’re doing is snuggling?” he asked.

“You know bloody well why,” Lily replied, as her breath began to shorten.

The demi-demon smiled and savored his wife’s willing surrender.  He scooted the bench close enough to the bed to rest his spread legs on top of the foot board and began to idly stroke himself.

“So where would you like me to rub?” he asked.

“After twelve years of marriage and fourteen years of shagging you don’t know?? Lily moaned.

“No, I know alright,” James replied.  “Just thought it’d be polite for me to ask.”

Lily squirmed, and clenched her pelvic muscles when the tip of one of his tentacles began to prod her blanket-covered fanny.

“And you’re just asking to rub my back?”

“Would you rather I ask if I could shag you senseless?”

Blankets were flung off the bed as Lily pushed up onto her hands and knees and reached back to grab the limb that was now teasing her clitoris.

“Thought that you were cold?” James asked brightly.

“Just shut up and reel me in,” Lily ordered.

“Yes, dear,” her husband replied.  The one loose tentacle wrapped itself around Lily’s torso, just beneath her hanging breasts, and gently lifted her off of the bed.  The fanny-rubbing limb pulled back, giving clearance for the leg-wrapped limbs to rotate Lily’s body into a spread-legged sitting position above the surface of the bed.

The black-haired wizard pulled Lily’s hovering body back towards him, until she was “sitting” in the air just above his face.  He had but a moment to savor the sights and smells of his wife’s obvious excitement before she reached down in between her thighs and firmly grabbed his nose.

"Hey" James protested.

"Hey, nothing, Mister...are you going to shag me or not?”

“Geeez,” he replied with a smile. “And here I thought it was the woman that always complained about lack of foreplay.”  

The three tentacles that supported Lily’s weight then twisted, spread and lowered her into the kind of sex position that Muggles could only achieve with harnesses or zero-gravity environments.

Not to say that a valiant attempt wasn’t being made at that very moment within the guest bedroom across the hall….

oo00OO00oo 

“Yes!…Oh Fuck Yes, Doctor!....Drill Me!....Drill Me Deep!...Deeper!...Deeper!...”

Roger Granger was long past worrying about whether or not his wife’s coarse language would carry out into the rest of the Potter residence…about six hours past, to be exact, which is when Hermione’s mum had dragged him into their room after only the barest of introductions to their hosts and ripped off his trousers.  If the silencing charms that he’d been told were in effect hadn’t failed by now, they weren’t going to fail.

Instead, the Muggle dentist focused on desperately trying to delay his third ejaculation of the night as he pounded into his wife’s fanny from behind.

“Almost there, Stud…Oh! Fuck that’s good….Drill, Baby, Drill!... Drill, Baby, Drill!.... Almost…..Oh, God! You’re So Fucking Big, Doctor!...Almost…”

Hermione’s mum’s dirty talk died, and she froze while backed up against her husband’s rod. This was the tell-tale sign for him to pause, and usher in yet another powerful orgasm.  A four-letter word was then shouted at the top of Emily’s lungs, and as her vaginal walls clamped down on his johnson and her legs shook involuntarily in release.  That, in turn, sent Roger over the edge and he spilled more semen than he thought possible into his wife’s womb.

As soon as she could catch half of a breath, Emily launched her body forward, allowing her husband to slip out of her.  She then flipped over onto her back, grabbed behind each knee, and pulled her bent legs back towards her heaving chest.

Roger hovered on his hands and knees for a moment, then plopped down onto the bed next to his wife as he tried to make sense of her actions.  She’d done the same thing the other two times that he’d filled her that night, but he hadn’t dared ask why…when your wife is giving you the best sex you’ve had in years you don’t want to pose potentially upsetting questions.  But as he was quite certain that he was spent for at least a few hours, he finally voiced his curiosity.

“Emily?”

“Yes, love?”

“Is there a reason why you’re trying to keep my cum from leaking out?”

“Yes, love.”

“Oh…but…I thought that the doctors were certain that we couldn’t have more children after Hermione’s birth.”

“They were.”

“So…have you seen a different doctor here in Wales?”

Emily smiled, and released one of her bent knees so that she could reach over and loosely cup her husband’s bits.

“Not a doctor, love…a Healer.”

“A Healer…you mean a Magical Doctor?”

“That’s right,” Emily replied, as she shifted her grip and began to stroke Roger’s shaft.  

“And he…or she…was able to magically fix….”

Hermione’s father’s eyes went wide as he rolled over onto his wife.  

Her eyes were shedding tears of joy.

“It was a physiological reaction to Hermione’s magic,” Emily explained.  “The baby’s magic keeps a non-magical mother from having additional magical children.”

“So…all those miscarriages…”

“It’s not Hermione’s fault, Roger!”

“Oh, no…I’m not saying that…could be some protective mechanism….”

“It is,” Emily replied.  “It’s also something that is easily cured with magic.  The Hogwarts Matron came by a few days ago, and waved her wand over my stomach, and…it’s wonderful, don’t you think?”

“It’s fucking brilliant!” Roger replied.

“Language, honey!” Emily admonished.

“Says the woman who just instructed me to shove my massive cock up her hot, wet quim?”

Emily blushed in response…a little.  

“Is that a complaint, sweetheart?”

“Absolutely not!” Roger backtracked. “You know I love it when you let yourself go and do the X-rated Harlequin talk.”

“Good.”

“So, Emily…this Healer’s magic is going to finally give Hermione the brother or sister that she’s always wanted?”

“No, the Healer’s magic is going to make it possible for us to give her a sibling.  You and I still have to get things done the normal way.”

Roger thought that “normal” wasn’t a term easily applied to the kind of raw sex they’d just engaged in, but wasn’t going to even try to make a joke out of it.

“Does this mean, then….we could have already have made a baby?”

Emily smiled, spread her legs, and pulled her husband down into a warm, wet embrace.

“It’s unlikely,” she replied, as she nibbled on his ear.  “I’m not due to ovulate for another week or so, but…we might as well practice, right?”

Roger smiled, and ground his bits against his wife’s.  

“Practice makes perfect, I guess.”

“Mmmmm….that was pretty close to perfect that last time, lover,” Emily purred.

“So…still room for improvement?”

Emily reached down in response, and gave Roger’s rod a squeeze.  Her eyes lit up when she realized that he was hard again.

“Ready for round four, champ?” she asked.

Hermione’s dad pushed up onto his elbows and smiled down at his wife. He then cocked his hips at just the right angle, and slid the tip of his erection into her without need of guiding hand.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Emily purred, as she dug her fingernails into her husband’s bum and pulled him home.

oo00OO00oo 

Freshly showered and shaved, Hermione’s father slipped out of the guest bedroom a few hours later with tired eyes and a wicked grin on his face.  Hearing some conversation in the kitchen, he ambled in that direction and spied Emmy Vance taking water off of the boil.  The wicked “You’d smile too if you’d just been shagged” grin morphed into something much more tender when he spotted Hermione and Harry’s two sisters at the kitchen table with coloring markers in hand.  

Nightly telephone conversations with his wife and daughter over the previous week had briefed him in on the kind of magic that Hermione was doing.  But nothing had been said about arts and crafts projects…or the kinds of non-literary activities (like coloring) that she’d always considered to be “childish.”

Hermione looked up from her art work too soon for her father to come up with the perfect quip.  She squealed in delight, jumped out of her chair and rushed into her father’s embrace.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Roger replied, patting his daughter’s back. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too!” Hermione stated, as she dragged him towards the table.  “I was terribly disappointed that mum wouldn’t let me wait up for you last night.”

“Tea or coffee, Roger?” asked Emmy.

“Tea would be lovely…one sugar and a spot of milk.”

“You two have met, then?” Hermione asked.

“Last night, when I arrived from the station,” her father explained.

“Well then, this is Nia and Morgan…they’re Harry’s sisters.”

“Pleased to meet you,”  Roger said, giving to two girls a smile.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Granger,” Morgan replied politely.

“Is mummy still resting?” Hermione asked.

Roger nodded.  “Just for a bit longer…and I couldn’t wait to see my little girl.”

“Did you really travel by train from London?” asked Nia.

“Yes, I did…got in just before midnight.”

“How long did it take?”

“A little more than five and a half hours.”

The youngest Potter’s mouth formed an o-shape in amazement.

“That’s….that’s…..that’s forever!”

Roger let out an amused snort, as Harry’s older sister frowned.

“Wouldn’t it have been faster to travel by airplane, Mr. Granger?”

“No actually,” Roger stated.  “I would have still needed to fly to Birmingham and take the three hour train from there, and by the time you make the connections…”

“My class travelled to Birmingham by train,” Morgan said sagely.  “That was a three hour trip each way.”

Roger raised an eyebrow.  “Why would a magical primary school travel by train?”

“The girls attend local muggle schools,” Emmy interjected, as she placed a cup of tea and saucer in his hands.  

“Is that common?” Hermione’s father asked, just before taking a sip of tea.

“No, not really…most children in magical families are home-schooled before Hogwarts, as there aren’t any magical primary schools…at least not in Britain.”

Roger nodded in understanding as he looked for a clear spot on the table to set down his tea cup. He pointed at the white banner that covered most of the table and hung off both ends and asked,

“So what are you lovely ladies working on?”

“It’s a banner for today’s Quidditch match,” said Morgan.

“That’s right…your brother is playing today, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Harry will be brilliant!” Nia declared proudly, while she colored a dragon’s scales with a red marker. “I can’t wait.”

“What’s that...something in Welsh?”  asked Roger, pointing towards the text in the middle of the cloth.

“Prif Weinidog Potter,” Hermione answered a nod.  “It means ‘Potter for President’.”

“So there’s a magical president, instead of a prime minister?”

“No, but ‘Potter for Minister of Magic’ wouldn’t leave enough room for the coats-of-arms,” Morgan replied.

Roger tilted his head and took a good look at the identical shields.  

“Potter family crest?”

“That’s right!” young Nia declared.  “Purple ghouls and oars, and a leek, and a dragon fighting a griffin.”

Morgan giggled.  “Almost.”

“What do you mean?” Nia demanded.

“It’s actually Per Pale Gules and Or, on a Chief Argent a Leek, Combatant a Gryphon Sergeant Or and a Dragon Rampant Gules.”

“My, that’s quite a mouthful,”  said Roger, as he worked through the heraldic terms….the shield was divided horizontally, and colored red on left, yellow on right.  There was a white band across the top of the shield with a green leek lying horizontally within it.  Beneath, a gold griffon and red dragon faced each other in a combative pose.

“It’s not as long as Hermione’s description of the Granger coat-of-arms,” Morgan replied.

“Shush,” the brown-haired witch admonished.  

“I didn’t know that our family had a coat-of-arms,” Roger replied.

“Oh you don’t just yet,” the youngest witch piped in.

“Nia!” Hermione hissed.

“Something I should know, sweetheart?”  Roger asked.

“No, Daddy…it’s just that…I’ve just been playing around with a design,” Hermione stated.  “The magical world is still rather…erm…traditional…when it comes to families and clans.”

“Feudal might be a more apt adjective,” Emmy said with a snort.

“So every magical family has a coat-of-arms,” Hermione explained. “And since there isn’t a registered coat-of-arms for the Granger clan, and since I’m the first magical person within the family, so far as we know….”

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Roger said with a smile. “I’m happy to see that you’ve approached this in your usual take charge and charge forward style…so what have you come up with?”

Hermione worried her lower lip with her teeth as she reached across the table and pulled a flat piece of parchment from a small pile.  

“Since you’re the Patriarch, it’s really up to you,” she said quietly. “And it’s really just a few ideas thrown together with mum’s help….”

Roger nodded as he leaned over his daughter’s shoulder and inspected her art work.

“It’s very creative,” he declared.  “Have you come up with a fancy way of describing it?”

Hermione nodded as she reached for a separate piece of parchment with some text written upon it.

“Yes, Daddy, this would be…Quarterly gules and or, in the first quarter a dexter arm, couped and embowed, in hand a wand, wheat ear, and dental pick, in the second quarter a griffin sergeant gules, in the third quarter a dragon passant gules, and in the fourth quarter a lion rampant or.”

“Wow, I’m impressed,” said Roger.  “So…a wheat ear, and a dental pick, and a wand?”

“That’s right…there was a muggle version of this crest that had three wheat ears in hand, to reflect the agricultural origin of our name, but since you and mum are dentists, and I’m a witch…”

“I love it!” stated Roger.  He punctuated this declaration with a kiss atop Hermione’s mass of curly brown hair.  “And the red griffin and dragons…they’re the same as on the Potter crest, right?”

Harry’s sisters snickered at this observation, as Hermione’s cheeks tinged red.

“So what about this gold lion, then?” Roger continued.

His daughter pulled herself together enough to explain that it was a Gryffindor lion, and reflected (along with the crest’s colors) where the Sorting Hat had placed her.

“And what about this bit of Latin up on the top?” asked Roger.

“That’s where you put the family’s motto,” Hermione said with a smile.

Roger pursed his lips.  “It’s been years since Latin class, but let’s see…Forget not to work…something…of the tooth.”

Roger furrowed his eyebrows.  “What does ‘funicuous’ mean, Hermione?”

“It’s the Latin term for a thin piece of string, Daddie.”

Hermione’s father nodded, then his eyes lit up as he solved the puzzle before him.  

So the family motto should be ‘Don’t forget to floss’?”

A giggle erupted from the lips of Roger’s daughter.

“Did I just hear my Hermione giggle?” he teased. “My word, between that and the coloring, I’d think that you’d spent the past week learning to be….”

Hermione’s lips pursed at the incomplete sentence.

“Learning to be a normal twelve-year-old girl?” she asked.

Roger caught his breath, then quickly reached down to envelop his daughter in a hug.

“Oh, Hermione, it’s not that…it’s just that…you’ve always been so amazingly brilliant, and well-spoken, and mature…and, not that you didn’t have friends, but…and as an only child….”

The bushy-haired witch’s eyes lit up at that statement.  “Yes, well…Morgan and Nia are like sisters to me, and it’s been brilliant here, but…you know that I’ve always wanted a brother or sister, and Mum promised me that she would raise the issue with you this weekend.”

Roger arched an eyebrow.  “She did, did she?”

“Yes, Daddy…so did Mummy …raise…it…last night?”

Emmy choked on a bit of tea upon hearing this question, and wondered whether Hermione realized her double entendre.

Roger was quite certain that his brilliant daughter had chosen her words with precision and full intent.  Had Hermione actually been an adult, instead of just acting like one, he would have replied, “Yes, several times, in fact.” But as it was his young daughter, and not an adult, he instead sighed, and changed the subject.

“So, when am I going to get to see my brilliant almost-teen-aged witch do some magic?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Hermione replied, as she rose from the table.  “Nia, Morgan, let’s take my daddy out to the magic shack!”

“Hold on, sweetie,” intervened Emmy, as she placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder.  “Why don’t you three go upstairs and get dressed, and then we’ll have breakfast, and then you can give your Dad a full tour of the grounds?”

“Okay!” the bushy-haired witch chirped, as she pulled Harry’s sisters away from the table.  

Roger shook his head in disbelief as the three girls scampered out of the kitchen.

“Hard to tell that she had such a horrid start at school,” he observed.  “I can’t thank you all enough, for taking her in this past week.”

“We’ve been happy to have both Emily and her stay with us,” Emmy replied. “And the girls have been just as happy to have an older sister to play with.”   

Roger quietly nodded his head.  From what he’d heard, he couldn’t imagine why his little girl wanted to return to horrid Hogwarts, or how he could protect her if she did.  But he certainly could ask Hermione to give up her magic, or for the Potters to take his daughter in for home-schooling…

Sensing the dentist’s thoughts, Emmeline said, “You know, Hermione is a natural at magic, and so hard working…she’s developed a lot of skills that will help protect her when she returns to school.”

“Do you think she’s able to do that now?”

Emmy shrugged.  “Perhaps…it’s up to the three of you, of course, but another week of Occlumency lessons would really put her in good stead.”

“That’s the mind protection magic?”

“That’s right.”

“And she can’t be taught that at Hogwarts?”

Emmy shook her head.  “The powers that be don’t think there’s a need for students to protect their thoughts.  Of course, it’s the powers that be that are best skilled at eavesdropping into other people’s minds, so…”

“And there’s no chance that this incident with the Troll will cause the Headmaster to be sacked?”

“I’m afraid not,” said a male voice coming from over Roger’s shoulder.  

Hermione’s father turned and acknowledged the Potter patriarch as he entered the kitchen.

“I’d second Em’s recommendation about Hermione staying with us for another week,” James stated.  “There’s an excellent chance that she’d have rock-solid Occlumency barriers by then if she did.”

“But what of the physical attacks?” Roger asked.  “Or the discriminatory treatment?”

James nodded as he accepted a cup of black coffee from Emmy’s hand.  “I’ve had a hand in instructing your daughter on shield spells, and some offensive spells.  She’s developed a nasty little stunner that should keep the pureblooded idiots at bay.  And as for the discriminatory treatment…I’m entirely sympathetic.  The Potters have a magical lineage that goes back centuries, but that doesn’t stop the English purebloods from snubbing me and mine because of our Welsh heritage.”

“So, she’ll just have to accept the abusive treatment, and her second-class status?”

James nodded.  “There is a small group of us within the magical community that are trying to make things better for all magical sentients, regardless of species or blood status.  It’s been slow going, but we are making incremental progress…and there’s a real possibility that your magical grandchildren could grow up in a world where that kind of prejudice isn’t tolerated.”

“But in the meantime?”

“In the meantime…” James replied.  “Well, that’s where you and I need to sit down and discuss some family business.”

“Family business?” Roger asked.  “That sounds like a line from The Godfather.”

James chuckled.  “No, it’s more Medieval than Mafia…how much do you know about the feudal system, and vassal relationships?”

Roger admitted that history had never been a strong subject for him in school, but that didn’t keep him from having an open mind as the Potter Patriarch sketched out an idea that would bring his daughter directly under a Lord’s protection.