Chapter 1: A Lascivious Wizard's Last Thoughts
"It was a good life," thought Harry as he laid down in bed surrounded by family. While his wife Ginny and his best friends Ron and Hermione had left him years ago for their next great adventure, he had no shortage of loved ones. His kids had their own kids, and in some cases those kids had kids of their own!
The fact the Potter family had gone from just him to so many people in his lifetime had brought him great joy.
A sudden coughing fit had Harry covering his mouth with his arm, only to find it flecked with blood. He'd been having these fits for a week now and knew his time was near. It was painful, and while the wizarding world had no shortage of means to make his passing painless and peaceful, he intended to be as lucid as possible at his death.
While Harry was many things, a coward wasn't one of them. He would stare death in the face as he had once before, and greet it as an old friend.
"Looks like it's about time," Harry said, no hint of fear in his voice. His statement had caused Albus and Lily's expressions to contort into ones full of sorrow, while James had taken it in stride, a hint of a smile on his face. "You had a hell of a run, Dad." Harry laughed at James' words. He had always been his most easygoing child.
But his son was right, Harry had had a great run.
He'd raised three kids who had gone on to have great careers and families of their own. He was the youngest head auror to ever hold office, and during his tenure, Wizarding Britain had never been more safe. Post-retirement, he had gone on to continue his magical education by way of self-study, and had come to be known as the greatest wizard of his generation.
His parents were prodigies, but had never gotten the chance to make their own contributions to the wizarding world. He had made sure to make enough for the both of them and then some.
Harry had come to terms with the early events of his life and had held no regrets.
None except one.
He wished he hadn't gotten married so early!
The reason for the regret was childish, really. Childish and selfish.
At least, that was what he told himself.
What made it worse was that there were absolutely zero problems with Ginny! She was one of the most beautiful witches at Hogwarts, and as Harry went through his adult life meeting and seeing many witches, it was clear she could even be considered a world-class beauty.
She was a great mother and a dutiful wife, and in the bedroom was always enthusiastic and had never denied him anything. One perk of having magic that Harry had come to greatly appreciate was that creativity in the bedroom was limited only by your imagination and galleons.
Potions that heightened pleasure receptors to entirely unsafe levels and allowed for orgasms in the dozens with zero refractory periods. Positions that muggles couldn't dream of getting in. Engorgio and animation charms, enchanted objects…the list went on and on and on.
Harry and Ginny had done things in the bedroom that would have had them lying low for a decade in embarrassment if they had gotten out.
And yet.
And yet…
For all of Harry and Ginny's active and extensive sex life, it had never been enough for him.
It was childish, really, to want more. Childish and selfish.
At least, that was what he told himself.
Harry had grown up in an environment that had left him ill-prepared to deal with the opposite sex. His paternal figure in the form of Sirius had left his life too early before he could impart his knowledge to Harry.
Of his and James' extensive and legendary escapades.
Harry was introverted to a great degree, and even worse, simply couldn't tell when a girl was interested in him, or how to approach one. His thing with Cho had ended in disaster, and getting a date to the Yule ball had been like pulling teeth!
Harry thought he was lucky enough that a witch as beautiful as Ginny had even bothered to look his way.
He didn't have the social awareness in his Hogwarts years to understand how desired he was, how easy it would've been to get into the knickers of almost any witch at school.
His being uncomfortable with his fame just exacerbated the problem.
It wouldn't be until his mid-twenties that he developed the awareness needed to recognize how desired he was. How many witches wanted his cock; the sheer amount of them that wanted to shag Harry Potter.
The epiphany had hit him like a bludger out of nowhere. It had flipped his worldview upside down. He, just Harry, was that popular? He had started to think about Hogwarts.
All the conversations, the opportunities he had missed. The opportunities he couldn't take now; because he was married!
Sometimes he had tried to tell himself that it was fine if he partook, if he played around a little.
He had stopped Voldemort. Saved Wizarding Britain. He deserved to play around a little! And then he would come home to his family, to Ginny, and feel like rubbish for thinking in such a way.
There had never been a hint or word of her straying, and so Harry had never been able to muster the ill-will towards her needed to renege on his marital vows. That was nothing to say of the potential fallout, both personal and society at large. The Weasley family included practically his entire social circle, the result of a fallout would be catastrophic!
He didn't even want to think about how the Daily Prophet would've leapt on him.
He wondered if he only felt so strongly about this because of how desired he was. Wondered if it wouldn't be so bad if he had played the field more before he took his marital vows.
It was a problem entirely on Harry's shoulders, something he would have to deal with and endure. His wife and family deserved no less.
It was childish, really, to want more. Childish and selfish.
At least, that was what he told himself.
But he could not stop his thoughts of what-ifs! He and Ginny had practically just happened. It wasn't surprising, considering how often Harry was in the company of the Weasley family.
He had never experienced what a true courtship was like. He wondered what it would've been like to have a random encounter. A whirlwind romance.
To meet a witch entirely outside his social circle and guide the relationship from first meeting to the bedroom.
He thought back to Daphne Greengrass, A blonde and green-eyed beauty, the epitome of femininity, so different from Ginny. All skirts and heels, with not a pair of jeans and sneakers in sight. Wondered what would've happened had he took her up on that offer to go to the ministry ball to celebrate Kingsley's election into office.
He thought back to Susan Bones, his partner as an auror for a period of time. Thought about her beautiful wavy auburn hair and honey-brown eyes topped with titties that an engorgio charm could never replicate. Wondered what would've happened had he taken her up on her offer to stay the night after a particularly difficult case.
He thought about the beautiful witch from MACUSA he'd met at work on an international assignment. Wondered what would've happened had he taken her up on her offer to meet her outside of work and show her what British witches and wizards did for fun.
He thought about those and many, many others.
Harry wondered what the wizarding world would think if they knew that the most famous wizard of the century's last thoughts were about all the knickers he regretted not getting into, all the witches he could've but didn't shag. It was rather silly, all things considered.
But on his deathbed, Harry could be honest with himself.
He cursed his Gryffindor chivalry!
He really wished he had shagged those witches! Consequences and angry boyfriends and furious husbands be damned!
Any other man would've fallen into temptation in his position, he was sure. While he believed his iron-clad will was one of his best traits, sometimes he regretted it.
And with all these thoughts in his head, Harry took his last breath, surrounded by his three children.
While witches and wizards knew about and could verify the existence of the soul, they knew almost nothing about what came after death.
Harry wondered what his next great adventure would be like.
He wondered if he would get a chance to act on these childish and selfish desires of his.
To act on these lascivious and amorous thoughts that he had held at bay for most of his life.
As he closed his eyes for the last time, he wheezed a little laugh at the thought.
And as Harry greeted Death like an old friend, somewhere else in a different universe entirely, a baby with blue eyes and red-brown hair was born.
A/N:
Hello Readers!
This is my first story, and it's intended to be mostly light-hearted. Don't come in expecting serious conflict or opposition.
It's going to be mostly about Harry, now Robb, shagging his way through Winterfell and the North. It will eventually expand to include all the kingdoms of Westeros, and possibly Essos and other parts of the known world.
There's going to be a number of OC smallfolk women, so if you're expecting Robb to deflower every highborn maiden, prepare for disappointment. He will be getting his lecherous hands on quite a number of them, though.
There will be uplift through mostly magical and some muggle means.
The plan is one chapter for each year (two for some) starting from age 3 until Robb reaches the age of 12 and things start getting lascivious.
To clarify, ages 3 to 11 are uplift centric. Age 12 and onwards, the story becomes smut centric.
