Author's Note: I primarily post my content to Archive of Our Own, but since this is a simple one-shot, I decided to cross-post it.
It had started out as just a little cute idea she'd had. They had been reminiscing on their younger years, and the subject of a certain second-year bathroom incident had been mentioned. They had laughed about it for a minute, but Hermione had been struck like a bolt from the blue.
In a marriage that had been going for twenty years, both Hermione and Harry had been looking for some new and unique ways to add a little creative spice to the bedroom.
Neither one of them was particularly kinky in their sexual preferences. They had never been, honestly. They'd certainly tried a couple things, but nothing quite clicked as well as it should have. That, and their war-related traumas had made some things completely off-limits.
However, that one little conversation had set the seeds for one of Hermione's greatest ideas yet. As soon as she'd mentioned her little idea to Harry and his cock had sprung to life at full glory, Hermione had known she'd hit perfect paydirt.
It had taken weeks of meticulous planning, materials gathering, brewing, but she'd eventually gotten everything she needed together to give herself and her husband one of the best nights of their lives.
After taking some of the requisite potion and putting it inside of a glass bottle, she plucked one of her hairs from her head and dropped it inside. It turned a soft seafoam colour and began to bubble as she stoppered it. Setting it down, she stripped out of her usual blouse, cardigan and jeans and changed into a delicious piece of lingerie she'd pick up just for the occassion.
Full silk bra and knicker combination with garters and stockings. It wasn't often that she put in so much effort– Harry frequently insisted she didn't need to preen for him, but tonight she wanted to be sure that everything was as perfect as it could be.
Grabbing her bottle of potion, she went downstairs and poured a couple glasses of wine and with a wave of her wand, dimmed the lights and lit the number of candles she'd set up in various places. She also followed up by preparing a tray of finger foods, setting that out on the coffee table as well.
When her husband finally arrived a short time later, he had stopped in the doorway, blinking in surprise.
"It's done?" he asked.
Hermione nodded excitedly, handing him the glass potion bottle. He grinned at her before pulling off his messenger bag and dropping it at the door. Kicking the door shut with his foot, he popped the cork and downed the potion in a shot, grimacing a bit at the taste– no matter what, polyjuice potion never tasted pleasant.
It took only a moment, but Harry's body began to bubble and change shape. He actually grew a couple inches, his skin had darkened several shades, his chest and hips had blossomed, and his hair had exploded outwards, turning from an unruly raven mess into a mass of honeyed curls.
Hermione was now staring at a perfect clone of herself, though one that was wearing the ill-fitting attire of her husband– his sweater was too short on the arms now, and it was practically straining under the pressure of her tits.
"Let's get you out of these clothes and into something more appropriate," she said with a tut, waving her wand and transfiguring Harry's clothes into a one-for-one replica of her lingerie, though his were a soft pink-colour, rather than the cream-colour that hers were, as well as plucking his eyeglasses off his nose and setting them down on the table. The effect was immediate, and she took pleasure in seeing the tell-tale signs of arousal as his areolae hardened and began to show through the silk fabric of his bra.
"Ooh," Hermione cooed, gently fondling Harry's breasts. "You like this, don't you? You want to be pretty for me, don't you?"
Harry blushed, and before he could shy away, Hermione embraced closely, pushing their breasts together. "It's okay, I want you to be pretty for me too, Harry."
He didn't respond, merely blushing even harder.
"Why don't we sit on the couch, honey?" Hermione asked, gently taking the hand of her husband and guiding him over to the couch. She sat down first, and he followed, trying his best to imitate her way of sitting. She handed him the glass of wine and let him take a drink of it before she poked at him.
"So, what does it feel like?" Hermione asked gently.
"It's… whew," Harry said, blowing a breath out of his soft lips. "It kind of feels amazing? I mean, I've got tits, and…"
"Don't get too caught up in that, love," Hermione murmured, gently hooking her leg over Harry's, and rubbing her foot up and down his stockinged leg. She switched her wine glass to her left hand and gently ran her fingers along the front of Harry's panties, soliciting a hiss of pleasure from her husband. "Just enjoy the feeling. How the silk feels against your warm skin, for instance."
"Oh my god," Harry murmured, blushing harder before Hermione pulled her hand away.
"See? Isn't it nice," she said, taking a drink of her wine.
"You bloody tease," Harry said, fanning himself. "You're doing that on purpose."
"What's wrong with a girl wanting to get her wife a little hot and bothered before she shags her senseless?" Hermione asked innocently. "Every girl deserves a little foreplay."
Harry blushed again. "How are you so good at pushing my buttons?"
"Because I know you so well, Harry," Hermione said with a hint of smugness in her voice. "You've got a praise kink and you were very eager to be polyjuiced."
"So?" Harry asked slightly defensively.
"So, it means you're a very good girl, Harry," Hermione whispered into his ear, gently kissing the nape of his neck in the process, earning a stilted moan from the polyjuiced wizard.
"Fuck," he murmured.
Hermione moved her kisses up his neck to his slender chin before kissing him firmly on the lips, earning a pleased squeak from him. Their kissing soon escalated from tender, shy kisses to full on snogging.
After she broke the kiss, Harry's eyes were already glazed over with lust. Hermione wondered if she ever looked like that after a nice snogging.
"Oh, Hermione," he murmured in awe.
"You're eager, aren't you," she said gently. "But you must be patient, Mrs. Potter!"
And so the process went of Hermione pointedly making Harry suffer (or something like suffer) through countless kisses between the consumption of wine and snacks. By the time Hermione finally pulled him upstairs, she could tell that Harry was on the edge of bursting.
Upstairs, in their bedroom, Hermione had already gone through the process of setting up a Muggle camera. They wanted at least one copy of it in a physical, non-magical form for posterity. The camera was already recording, and was aimed directly at their bed.
After leading him through the door of the bedroom, she had him set down on the edge of the bed, before Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and began to kiss him again, this time letting her hands roam down to where his bra was hooked. With deft maneuvering, Hermione popped the hooks free, and started to kiss her way down Harry's neck to his bare chest, stoping to gently lick and suck on his rock-hard areolae.
Harry began to pant and moan as Hermione hit every sensitive spot she could on her way down his body. By the time she got down to his pussy, he was already starting to soak through his panties in sheer anticipation of what she was going to do when she got there. Gently peeling them away, she got a good look at the pussy that she and her husband were technically sharing right now.
It was already slightly swollen in arousal, and Harry's pubic hair glistened in the low light of the bedroom. Grabbing Harry's legs, she lifted him up onto her shoulders and pulled him close, earning a squeak from her husband as she allowed her tongue to slip through the folds of his labia and go to town on his clitoris.
She wasn't going to beat around the bush—her first and foremost goal was to get Harry to have a female orgasm. Not just one female orgasm either. She was going to show him all the wonderful things about getting thoroughly shagged.
"H-Hermione," Harry gasped, bucking his hips before he completely lost coherency, mumbling as she felt his vaginal muscles tighten through his first couple orgasms. In fact, as Harry pushed against her face for his third orgasm, one of the utter shite vases that Hermione had sitting on their dresser exploded.
They both stopped, and Hermione gently pulled away from his pussy, settling him back down on the bed, watching him take in greedy breaths. He managed to pull himself up to his elbows. In that moment, sweating, his tits on full display, his pussy still dripping, he looked every part a thoroughly sexed-out woman.
She wondered again if this is what she looked like when she'd gotten it good. Who'd ever said that thirty-eight was old?
"God, you look beautiful," she said with a grin. "and I don't just mean that in a purely narcissistic way."
"You are the most beautiful woman on Earth… so I guess that makes me the most beautiful woman on Earth too," Harry said playfully. "Wow, Hermione. That was…"
"Good?" she ventured a guess, grinning still.
"Raw. Amazing. Holy shit I've never felt so good after cumming in my life," Harry breathed.
"I know what I'm doing, Mrs. Potter," she said softly, winking. "Did you ever doubt me for a minute?"
"No," Harry said, before sitting up, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her down onto the bed on top of him, peppering her neck and face with greedy kisses.
"Harry!" she squealed in happiness. "Are you already up for another round?" she asked.
"Yes, but you may want to see if we've got any Pepper-Up, and maybe some more Polyjuice. I think you and I aren't leaving this bed for awhile."
"Oh, is that a challenge?" Hermione dared.
"I want you to fuck me until I can't stand, Hermione," Harry said proudly.
"I intend to," she purred as she pushed him down into the bed and kissed him again.