Warning:
The Harry Potter verse belongs to JK Rowling and I do not profit from this story. This is a work of fiction and I do not practice or condone the acts therein. This fan fiction may contain any of the following and more, so if you are sensitive to them please do not read; slash, m/m, m/f, m/m/f, f/f, f/f/m, reproductive cycles, reproductive issues, child birth, yaoi, breast feeding, lactation, extended breast feeding, male lactation, etc.
Synopsis:
The Ministry of Magic did not allow Dumbledore to place Harry with his deplorable Muggle relatives. To keep everyone happy and garner good will, Minister Bagnold sends the poor tyke around the British wizarding community like that raggedy class pet in primary school. Shenanigans are sure to ensue.
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Molly Weasley fretted to herself as she nursed her two youngest babes, Ron and Ginny. Each little ginger lamb suckled hungrily on a milk engorged teat, tucked snuggly under an arm as their mum rocked them in the oak chair by the fire.
The twins Fred and George were playing with their elder brothers but would demand access to her breasts when they came inside. The twin terrors were 4 years old, going on 5. They might wean soon. Five was a common age for weaning in Wizarding Britain. According to gossip, some wizards never weaned, like her Arthur.
Today was the day little Harry was coming to stay. He would be staying for about a year, as was their allotted time per the Ministry. Dumbledore had put in a good word for them, and after Harry being cleared by healers at St. Mungoes and a few weeks debate by the Wizengamot it was decided certain families would get the opportunity to host the boy-who-lived for a set time.
The poor lad had just lost his parents at all of 15 months old, certainly not old enough to be weaned. Arthur had heard from a reliable source that those brutish Muggle mums weaned earlier and earlier these days, if they even allowed the babe on the tit at all. They gave the poor things some rubbish called furmalae or some such. Ridiculous if you asked Molly. Settling the sleeping 8 month old Ginny into the carved pine cradle beside the chair and the 19 month old Ron into his play pen, Molly began to nest.
She had gathered some of Ron's things for little Harry to use and was anxiously awaiting his arrival. Suddenly the floo flared to life and Albus stepped through followed by a healer from Mungoe's.
Hastily approaching the wizened wizard, she peered into the swaddled bundle gathered in his arms. Harry was fast asleep, compared to her babes he was a wee baby. On his forehead was the now famous lightning bolt scar, however, it was not the angry red she had feared. It appeared the healers had done something right.
"Poor boy, give him here Albus. He needs a mother's touch," Molly whispered reverently.
"Thank you, Molly dear, and your family for agreeing to host little Harry. We will come check up on him periodically and ensure he is acclimating well and that any lingering trauma from that night is followed up on and taken care of. This is Healer Butterworthy, he has been assigned to Harry's case," Albus informed kindly, carefully handing the baby over to the doting mother.
Cradling the poor orphaned soul to her gargantuan bosom, Molly clung to baby Harry and gently stroked his downy, black hair.
As the healer began to educate the mother about her new charges special needs and instructions, Albus Dumbledore had gone outside to meet the team of Warders that would be checking and adding to the Ward scheme around the Burrow.
Back in the home Harry began to sniffle and cry, rooting hungrily for a nipple that wasn't there.
"What have you been feeding the baby since he has been in your custody," Molly demanded curiously.
"We have volunteers that have taken lactation potions and come feed any that require it. We know how important Mother's milk is to growing children. It's even beneficial to the sick and infirm. Little Mister Potter here was born a little underweight and has always been a rather small boy, so he needs extra feeding up," Healer Butterworthy informed succinctly.
Seeing the baby was hungry, Molly sat in the rocker and pulled down her nursing gown, exposing a bulbous cherry-like nipple. She patiently rubbed it on the sleepy baby's lips, causing him to open wide and latch.
"With my youngest two and the twins still nursing for the next year, and some of the older ones still needing the comfort every once in a while, I may have to ask my mother and mother-in-law to come stay for a bit to help with the schedule. I only have two tits after all," Molly pondered to the healer.
"Let us know if you have need of any of the donated milk from our bank or possibly a home attendant to come help," the healer offered helpfully, watching Molly mothering Harry as he drained one breast and she switched him to the next.
"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," Molly stated as she rocked Harry, both foster mother and fosterling relaxed and content.
Harry rolled and suckled the rather large nub in his mouth. It seemed he had had so many new shapes and sizes to learn lately, as well as many new textures and flavours. This milk tasted rather rich and nutty, although he was not a connoisseur or anything. Maybe someday, if this kept up. He had drained this breast a little bit ago but was still getting hind milk with each pull. He liked the feel of the bulbous shape on his tongue, he nibbled a little with his two teeth and gums, proceeding to use the large red woman's nipple like a teething ring/soother. His small hands rubbed innocently on the ponderous, pale breast covered liberally in freckles and blue milk veins.
Molly certainly didn't notice the rather gentle nipping. After 7 children and one rather affectionate husband suckling constantly her teats were so desensitized it just felt like gentle tugging.
After ensuring Harry had settled in, Albus and healer Butterworthy left. Harry had fallen asleep sucking languidly on the dribbling teat, milk leaking down his little chin. Molly conjured another cradle and settled him into it to nap just as the twins came tearing inside, ready for a snack.
They each latched onto a still bared nipple, settling onto Molly's rather wide, cushioned lap. Sighing, she felt she was permanently interred in the chair with a babe on each tit. But she wouldn't change it for the world.
That evening Arthur returned home, greeting the new addition and enjoying supper with his large family. Then it was bath time for all the littlest Weasley's. Into the giant wash tub went Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, and Harry.
The sprogs played and washed, enjoying the bath water. "Ron, take Harry's foot out of your mouth," bellowed Molly sternly.
Percy, being the mature 7 year old he was, insisted on showering alone. Charlie at 9 was very independent, until he had a nightmare and woke Molly wanting a suckle. Bill was their firstborn and 11, off at Hogwarts.
Ron and Ginny still required feeding during the night, so slept with their parents. Harry would be sleeping there as well- he would need many nightly feedings to help build his weight.
That night Harry had a night terror, whimpering and crying unless he was suckling on a breast, so he stayed on one all night. The poor baby was still shaken up the next morning and wouldn't allow Molly to set him down. She had fashioned a sling to keep him close and constantly on her tit. It was a good thing he was so light.
Exhausted from no sleep and running on fumes, Molly called in the cavalry. Grandmothers Weasley and Prewitt came to the rescue. Molly's mother had also called her sister-in-law, Muriel, whom while being a spinster and a bit of a shrew was willing to help take charge of the home schooling of the older children. Cedrella Weasley née Black had brought some lactation potions and proceeded to take Harry, giving Molly a break. Geraldine Prewitt began to care for the other small children in the home while setting her magic to cooking and cleaning. She took a potion and settled into an overstuffed chair with Ron and Ginny to nurse.
Harry finally began to settle. The large red woman had been so stressed she had made him stressed too. His small body unclenched in the soft, cushioned cuddle of the kindly black haired lady. She had nice, soft pink nubs that were just the perfect size for suckling, not too big and not too small. Her milk was sweet and just a little spicy, not unpleasant but different. He had seen the green light and the scary man again, then his mum wouldn't wake up. He missed his mum terribly, he wonder where she had gone. This kind lady had black hair like his papa. Harry missed him too. And the puppy was black. Sometimes the puppy would come play peek-a-boo, then that loud man with the black hair would come back and the puppy would be gone. He always wished the loud man would quit scaring his puppy away. Harry drifted off to a peaceful slumber in the arms of one of his distant Black relatives.
A few hours later he woke, scared and alone in his cradle. Harry wailed for attention, he needed warmth and soft and food and he needed it now. Large, faded red woman with the softly wrinkled skin and sagging breasts promptly picked him up, shushing soothingly.
She took him to the ever handy rocker, struggling a bit to wrangle her burdensome breasts from the old fashioned maternal nursing gown she had dusted off just for this task. Geraldine had always had rather large breasts, her pregnancies and years of breast feeding had given her rather enormous endowments. Old age had drooped them like low hanging fruit. She victoriously fished a protruding, brown nipple and placed it for the poor baby to latch onto.
Harry settled down to his meal. What an intriguing flavour. Sweet, yet bitter, yet savoury. Intriguing indeed. Inquisitive emerald eyes gazed contently into aged whiskey trustfully. Maybe life wasn't so awful after all.