Story Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the world of Harry Potter, or any and all official characters from the Harry Potter series itself. J.K Rowling, the woman behind the series, owns the series as writer/creator. Bloomsbury and Scholastic have ownership in terms of book publishing world-wide, and Warner Bros. on the movie adaptations of all seven Harry Potter books. I also do not own anything else that may show up via crossover-related terms.
This area of the Potter Family Library can be accessed easily if you are close to age or ARE of age. It also has a Restricted Section (that contains lemons) but can only be accessed in another part of the library (or on AdultFanFiction dot net under the same title as this collection story but with the added words "Restricted Section"). So there are two sections, one for everyone who can handle such topics, and another for those who want to get their jollies off.
CAUTION: This collection of stories is safely rated under the M Rating because of difficult subjects that will be represented in this. Some stories will have some T Rated stuff in this collection. If you feel you can't handle drama or other difficult angst-styled subjects, read something else.
A Familiar Touch More
For sixteen years, I've always found warmth and comfort with my son, Harry. He was the spitting image of his father back in the youthful days. All except the eyes... my dear son had my eyes; my familiar, green piercing eyes. Eyes of the brightest emeralds you would ever see. Ever since James died killing the Dark Lord, I had to live with the sorrow and the pain of losing the man I loved. I vowed to protect Harry with every fiber of my being and with every ounce of my magic. He would always sleep with me as he grew up, and even when he started Hogwarts at age eleven, Harry when he comes home for summer would continue to sleep with me in our bed...
I have begun to realize that when Harry was at Hogwarts for the first two years, I missed his touch. I missed holding him, cuddling my precious Harry. Third year when he started, I joined him, to become part of Hogwarts Staff. I would be able to teach my son for his Third Year, and Fourth Year in Charms. Flitwick would then get to teach him for the remaining years he had at Hogwarts. Sure, I'm grateful that Sirius and Remus had the best intentions looking out for him as DADA Professors secondly, and as his godfathers firstly. However, even I am ashamed to admit that I share a taboo with Harry. It all started when he turned fifteen... he began to look at me more. I would catch him staring at me, and he would pretend to be busy with his school work, but I felt this... sick thrill that Harry was checking me out. At first it disgusted me, but I couldn't stop.
One night I had a dream, and it was so disgusting, and yet, when I woke up from it, I had to get myself off. I then realized I had fallen in love with Harry. I fell in love with my own son! I always wondered if it was wrong to love him in more ways than one... but... I couldn't turn him away. I couldn't! I knew that whatever mother and son bonding we had as he grew up, the relationship between us had changed forever that night, on his sixteenth birthday. After everyone went home, I was all alone in the library of the manor, once again staring at the last portrait of us as a family, a day when James was alive. It was a special portrait because I had an old friend, Daniel Granger, Hermione's father, paint the portrait for us when Harry was but a year old.
I was in my own little world, when I felt arms move around me. The warmth, and his scent of sandalwood and that manly spice of his body spray made my heart thump faster. I don't know how it began... all I know is that Harry was hugging me, I pulled him around, and then... we kissed. We kissed like lovers. We even used tongue. I could still taste that pumpkin juice he drank from the party on his mouth, as my tongue danced with his. And when we parted for air, we took this to our bedroom, as our clothes disappeared bit by bit. Many call it incest, what Harry and I had done. On his sixteenth birthday, we broke into taboo. And we both enjoyed it immensely.
For sixteen years, I've always found warmth and comfort with my son, Harry. But I can honestly say he's more than "just my son." He's also my lover.
Please forgive me, James...
Drama and angst rolled into one mixed with a dash of taboo and shame.