Who's Really in Control?

Lily set down her quill and stretched her fingers. Yesterday, she promised herself, and Harry, to take a break today. It was the winter holidays after all and she hadn't taken time off simply to work at home.

However, other countries besides Britain were still hard at it, working year-round in some cases, and so the Department of International Magical Co-operation stopped for no man or woman, holiday or not. Letters needed to be sent, paperwork filed, and requests made before the end of the year.

She rifled through the letters on her desk and, to her delight, confirmed she finished all of them. With an extra pep in her step, she quickly sealed them in envelopes, bundled them into two stacks with ribbons, and wrapped herself in a wooly shawl. She headed to the garden outside, stepping over the puddles of slush and bracing against the chilly breeze. A pair of owls, one midnight black and the other snowy white, perched on the clothesline strung between two poles, waiting for her.

"Take these to Opal in the head office," she said, tying the first bundle to the black owl and feeding it a pellet. "She'll know who they go to.

"These," she turned to the other owl and tied them its leg, "go to my office. Make sure the right people get their letters." She handed it a pellet to nibble and stroked its head. "I'm trusting you, Hedwig."

The snowy owl chirped and both birds took off, disappearing into the grey afternoon sky. Lily bundled her shawl tighter and checked the letters the morning owl deposited in their mailbox. Nothing from Petunia, no surprise there. Several well wishes from co-workers to her. Letters to Harry from Ron, Hermione, and other friends. And a dozen or more addressed to Harry from all sorts of girls she half-remembered or didn't know at all in red, pink, green envelopes, sprayed with perfume or attached with candies to entice him to open them.

She stepped back inside, shivering to herself, and set the letters aside on the kitchen counter. Then she pointed her wand at the fireplace in the living room, murmured a few words, and the flames leapt higher, basking the room in a homey red glow.

Lily checked the old grandfather clock in the hallway. The hand with her face was pointed at 'Home' while Harry's was still on 'The Burrow.' Ever since Sirius bought him that new Firebolt for Christmas, he'd been over at Ron's house everyday so both boys could marvel over it. It was a very fine broom, but she never understood the fascination.

Then again, she never understood James' either. Every chance he had, he was up on his broom, playing Quidditch. She often teased him that he loved the sport more than her. He'd laugh in that warm, comfortable way, scoop her up in his strong arms, and nuzzle her neck. His lips tickled her skin as he said, "Not a chance. I'd snap that broom in half right now if you asked me too."

She touched her neck and it almost seemed like he was there now, a phantom trace of what once was. Her eyes watered and if anyone walked in and asked, she would've said the light hurt from staring at it for so long.

Lily missed him terribly. What she wouldn't give to have him beside her once more. Even for a day, even as a ghost, unable to actually touch her. Simply to hear his voice once more, whispering in her ear.

She glanced at the portrait over the fireplace mantle. The one of her, James, and Harry altogether in Diagon Alley. James carried Harry in his arms, poking his nose and laughing as his son took his glasses and wore them over his own, looking the spitting image of James down to the messy dark hair.

It seemed only like yesterday, despite the years since. A year before Harry started school. A month before that damn Death Eater. If only the Order had caught all of them when Dumbledore destroyed Voldemort. If only the Ministry had dedicated more resources to their capture. If only they hadn't gone out that day. If only...

No, she told herself. Don't go there. Instead, she watched James in the portrait embrace her, kissing her deeply. She imagined herself in the lucky portrait Lily's place. How he held her, his heavy breath on her cheek. His hands caressing her waist, promising that as soon as Harry went to bed, they would have a special night.

Her eyes refocused and she frowned at the portrait. "Dammit," she muttered and stalked to her bedroom upstairs. With a few flicks of her wand, the curtains pulled closed, the lamps on either side of the room dimmed, and the door shut almost all the way, leaving a crack open.

Lily threw back the bedsheets on her bed and quickly undressed. Blouse, skirt, shoes, bra, underwear, all tossed aside onto the floor or a high back wooden chair in the corner, and she fell into the large mattress. The too large mattress. She took a moment to reach for the other side where James used to sleep beside her, pretending it was still warm. That he had just woken up and would be back any moment to tend to her.

That was it. She held that thought in her mind's eye and ran her fingers down her thigh. He was in the bathroom, splashing some water on his face, waking himself up for the day. He came back in, shirtless. Or absolutely naked, hands on his hips, as strapping and handsome as the day they met.

She cupped her breast, playing out how she'd react to his toothy grin. "What?" she would ask.

"Nothing," he'd say and sit beside her on the bed, the weight forcing her to slide toward him. He'd lean over and whisper, "I just like looking at you."

Her fingers stroked her engorged nub as her imaginary self threw back the blanket. She laid there like a nude model for a painting and gave him that look. The special one unique to all couples and this one reserved only for them. "Is that all you're going to do?"

"Of course not." He kissed her, his warm breath intermingling with hers. His calloused hands from a youth spent on the Quidditch pitch lifted her back to the center of the bed. Then he ravished her. Oh, how he ravished her. A flurry of limbs, kisses along her neck, his size stretching her, filling that desire only the way he could. She loved it dearly.

Her fingers flew furiously across her clit, desperate for the release. But it wasn't the same. She was losing it. "No, no." She curled a finger in, brushing a sensitive spot, but it paled in comparison to the James in her fantasy. "No, no, c'mon. Almost...Almost…

"Dammit!" she yelled and hit the pillow with her fist. She chomped on her teeth, her nostrils flaring and her breathing livid. So close. So bloody close!

That's a lie, she admitted as she calmed down. She stretched her fingers, the strain flaring up again. It was why, and not for the first time, she glanced curiously at her wand and considered using it instead.

No, no. God knows what would happen if I broke it. A trip to Ollivander's and an embarrassing story of what happened. She shuddered at the thought.

She envied her sister and those other Muggle women. Able to create all those electronic devices to fill their own needs. No chance of that for her. No, all she had were her fingers, bruised as the tips were.

Creak. She froze for a moment. The noise was as soft as a branch bending in the wind, but as audible as a thunderclap in her room. Someone outside her door. Another creak followed it, fading away and down the hall.

"Mom?" Harry called from downstairs.

She sighed, looked down at herself, and confirmed there was no chance of returning to that level before. "I'm up here!" she said, rolling out of bed. "I'll be right out!"

She grabbed a spare hand towel, wiping down the remnants of her failed session and tossed it in the hamper, filled with washcloths and towels of other successes and disappointments. Then she dressed, not bothering with her underwear or bra. She missed the last few buttons at the top of her blouse and didn't bother to tuck it back into her skirt. Once decently presentable, she walked downstairs, tucking her long red hair behind her ears and trying to act as though everything was normal.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Harry asked from the kitchen. He dumped some leftover Christmas turkey into a skillet on the wood burning stove and held up the container to her. Lily shook her head and he put the rest back in the icebox. Then he stepped aside and opened the stove's door. "Do you mind?"

She raised her wand and waved it at the oven. "Incendio." A small fireball shot perfectly from the wand's tip to the pile of logs inside. The wood caught immediately and Harry closed the door on it.

"I needed to get up anyway," Lily said. "I still have some more work. Thought I'd squeeze in a short nap." She set a kettle of tea on the stove and watched her son stir the turkey, keeping it from searing on any one side. "Have fun with Ron?"

"Loads," he said, not looking her in the eye. "I think he loves that broom more than I do. Fred and George nearly tore his arms off before he'd give it up and let them have a go. Even Hermione stopped studying for the O.W.L.S. and asked if she could try it out. Course that's before Charlie showed up with one of his new pet dragons. You should've seen this one."

As he tended the food, he went on, describing how big the dragon was, how Charlie let them ride it, and the other antics he got up to with the Weasleys that morning. He became so lively, so animated when he recalled additional details, like how Ron nearly lost his eyebrows to the dragon's breath, that he almost burned the turkey.

He'd been that way ever since his first year at Hogwarts, when they'd been invited to the Burrow for Christmas. It always filled him with a boundless energy. Harry had pulled her aside that first year and asked his mom if he could have a baby brother or sister. She'd smiled at the question, as he was still clueless at the time on what that entailed, and brushed it off.

Although, every now and then, his innocent request popped up in her mind. For her to grant it though, she needed a partner. Yet no one interested her. They all fell short of James, none of them measuring up to him in her head. Except for...

"Mom?" Harry asked as the kettle whistled. "Something wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, no," she said, banishing the thoughts from her mind. She poured herself a cup of tea and sat at the table. "I was miles away for a moment. Go on. You were saying?"

Harry slid the turkey onto a plate and joined her. "Bill came by with his fiancee around lunch. He didn't stay for long though. Had to do something for the bank."

The way Harry talked was so much like James. If she closed her eyes, it was no different than listening to her late husband regale her with yet another prank he and Sirius pulled, or how Remus used his Prefect status to help them avoid trouble with a teacher.

That in turn led her to dwell on her bedroom not even ten minutes ago. God, what's wrong with me? She couldn't shake it off. She needed to stop comparing Harry to James all the time. He wasn't. He wasn't.

But she couldn't help it. She hadn't been with someone in so long. She needed to be filled again.

"You got some mail," she pointed at the counter as she sipped her tea, trying to calm her nerves. Harry shuffled through the letters, picking out his. "I saw quite a few girls' names in there. Friends from school?"

"Yeah, something like that," he said. He was a terrible liar. His reputation as a ladies' man reached her ears easily enough, even before he brought a different girl to visit almost every school break. He murmured to himself, reading through the names, and lifted the hem of his tight Quidditch jersey, mopping his forehead. She caught a peek of his defined abs, one of the many reasons he attracted so many girls.

Before he opened one of the candy wrappers, she cleared her throat. "I'd be careful with some of those. Remember Valentine's Day?"

He stopped and carefully set it down. "How could I forget?" One of his admirers had sent a love potion infused box of chocolates. Thankfully, Lily noticed the tampered seal in time and kept him from losing his mind over some third-year with a massive crush on him. Giving herself all the more opportunity to entice him to her bed.

You're losing your mind. Lily quickly finished her tea. For now, she needed to set aside her sexual needs and focus on work. "I'll be in the study if you need me," she said. With that, she quickly left, hoping that some tedious international forms and paperwork would distract her.

Harry threw the letters on his bed, along with half of the candy. He only trusted the ones from his friends. As he chewed on some licorice wands and sugar quills for an hour, he replayed the talk with his mother. She'd been distracted, staring at him the whole time. Did she know?

No, she can't have. He was so careful outside her bedroom. If not for that one board, he would've gotten away clean. She might've even started up again if he'd just stayed in one spot. He wished she had. He should've come home earlier. That had been sexy beyond belief.

He was getting better at spying on her though. Ever since she forgot to close the door one day last summer while she thought he was still asleep, he'd become a master of stealth. He'd spent the rest of that particular morning in the bathroom, the image of his mom fingering herself refused to leave him alone. All he pictured was her body taut and twisting beneath the bedsheets.

Since then she'd grown more careless and desperate, walking around in her underwear while doing laundry early in the morning, shuffling to the bathroom naked in the dead of night, or touching herself in her study for a minute or two when she thought Harry was upstairs. On top of that, she now dressed as though announcing publicly that she was ready for a new partner, ready for the first man who crossed her path to take her to bed. What else explained her outfit today? Short skirt, barely reaching her knees? A white blouse, partially undone, enticing with a hint of cleavage? All that and the smell. She reeked of sex and it took all of Harry's willpower not to try to take her right then and there.

Easy, easy, he reminded himself. He couldn't rush things. But he couldn't afford to act slow anymore either. He'd made sure to leave the bathroom door open when showering, giving her a peek of him stepping in and out of the shower. Working out to build some lean muscle for Quidditch in view from her study. Or simply being near her, talking with her and dropping little comments about "how she was still a catch" or "how she must turn down offers left and right." All to set things up, put the thoughts in her mind the same way that her accidental exposure had done to him.

None of it changed her behavior and he feared he was running out of time. Just today, while watching Hermione flail on the Firebolt, he asked Ron his opinion, leaving out that it was his own mom. "Setting your sights a little high, aren't you?" his friend asked him as Hermione tore off into the sky on the Firebolt, her screams dying on the wind. "An older woman?"

"She's not that old," he said. "More mature."

"Right. So what's the problem?"

"I think someone else will pick her up soon."

"Before you can." Ron rubbed his chin and nodded sagely. "Yeah, such a shame. I guess you'll just have to go back to one of your dozen or so other girlfriends."

"Look, what do you suggest?"

Ron shrugged helplessly. "What can I say? Go for it if you can. But if what you say if true, you better get on with it before you lose your chance."

Really helpful. But he was right. He needed to just go ahead and go all-in.

Tomorrow, he told himself. They'd both be home all day tomorrow. That's when he'd go for it.

Harry woke bright and early the next morning, hoping to catch a repeat performance of yesterday. Unfortunately, his mother slept in so there was no hope of that. However, she had fallen asleep half undressed. Too tired to change clothes, he assumed.

The sheets were tangled about her legs and pulled down to her waist. Most of her blouse was unbuttoned, draping over her heaving breasts that rose and fell with her soft snoring. Her hair fell over her eyes, obscuring one of them, as she laid on her back.

He looked at her blouse, then back at her. Did he dare take a peek? She seemed in a deep sleep, but he couldn't tell if the hidden eye was really closed. If she woke, then he'd not only lose this rare opportunity, he'd also be in very, very big trouble.

Licking his dry lips, he reached out for her blouse, watching her face the entire time. He peeled back the edges, exposing one side then the other. A pair of alluring, perky breasts revealed themselves and he stared at them, gobsmacked at the milky white color with soft pink nipples. They were wonderful, better than some of those of the other girls he'd dated.

His hand hovered over one of the breasts. It was too much to try them, wasn't it? I've already pushed my luck as it is. Yet he didn't pull his hand back. The layer of warmth radiating off her skin held him there and the longer he stayed, the more he wanted to sample them.

A little won't hurt, he lied to himself. He rubbed his hand against his leg, warming his chilly fingers. Then, taking a deep breath, he placed it over one of the lovely mounds.

It felt similar to any other. Yet different. Perhaps because it was his mother, it seemed exciting in a way. Like clutching a special treasure or some award. Certainly better than catching a Snitch during a match. He wanted to squeeze it, savor the softness, how his whole hand cupped it. Perhaps even taste it.

He stopped himself, his mouth inches from her nipple. No, that'll definitely wake her. He straightened and carefully released her breast. With the utmost care, he walked backwards out of the room and pulled the door to, leaving a crack behind.

He needed to watch himself and not act rashly. The best option was to wait for her to wake up and then try to seduce her. Use that Potter charm that all the other girls liked.

So he spent the morning planning his method of attack until she woke up. After they shared a light breakfast, she headed to her study to work and he went to his room to catch up on some homework.

After an hour, he decided to put his plan into action. Taking off his jersey and swapping his jeans for some tighter athletic pants, he stepped out into the hall and headed to the living room. From one end, the door to his mother's study stood ajar and she looked up at him. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Taking a break. I was going to work out in here, since it's a little too cold outside. Do you mind?"

She shook her head. "That's fine. I'll shut the door if I need to."

Better keep it quiet then. He laid on the floor, switching between a variety of sit-ups, push-ups, and stretches. Whatever nearly silent activity that also showed off his muscle. Girls tended to swoon over such a show.

However, Lily only looked up now and then, rubbing her neck, checking that he was still there, and returned to her work. So she wouldn't be easily won over. That was fine. This wasn't the only card up his sleeve.

Lily lifted her head from another dry document and massaged a sore spot at the base of her neck. Harry took the opportunity to slink into the office behind her chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened for a second until she realized who it was, then relaxed.

"Here, I can get that," he said, brushing her fingers aside and pressing his thumb into the same spot. He looked over her shoulder, pretending to read the document, but watching her face out of the corner of his eye. "What's this then?"

"Oh, something about setting up a meeting between our department and one in France's ministry. Can you move a little to the left, please?"

As he moved his hand over, he peered down her blouse, the same one from yesterday. She wasn't wearing anything underneath still, which his groin appreciated. Excellent. "Maybe you should take a break," he said and leaned down, wrapping his arms around her. He made sure to press his chest against her back. "You work too hard."

"I know I do," she said and patted his hand. Then she tugged on her blouse, airing it out. "You're very considerate."

The already tingling bulge in his pants grew larger. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear she was trying to turn him on. "You're welcome."

"I mean it," she said and turned her head. "I'm happy you've grown into such a considerate man." She held his cheek and kissed his temple.

Harry turned his head, meeting her lips with his own. As he expected from past experience, her mouth popped open in surprise and he took the opportunity to invade it with his tongue. She reacted automatically, her tongue immediately meeting with his, curling around one another. The first few seconds were crucial before she fully processed what was happening in the few seconds and he needed to take advantage of that.

His fingers danced across her blouse buttons, undoing them quickly. By the time he reached the end, Lily came to her senses and spoke against his mouth. "Wait, wait! What are you doing?"

"It's fine, Mom," he said easily, as if this was the most casual thing in the world. "I know you've been needing this. Let me help you." He kissed the nape of her neck and she shuddered. Most girls were putty in his hands after that, but she held firm.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

She'd all but forgotten the blouse and he opened it, seizing her breasts, squeezing them. It was a good thing he didn't indulge this morning. He wouldn't have been able to stop himself from fondling her. He brushed his lips against her ear, nibbling on the lobe.

"Yes, you do. You've needed this all year." One hand slid down her stomach and her knees opened wide, clearly confirming it. He smiled against her cheek. He had her now. "Let me help you. This can stay between us."

He only received short, sharp gasps in response. He gripped the fabric of her skirt, yanking it up and reaching between her thighs. He couldn't see the sex itself, but he felt it. Good Lord, he felt it. She wasn't wearing any panties and one flick of his finger left the tip smeared in her desire. This was so easy that he was almost disappointed.

Almost.

As Harry teased her clit, he stepped out of pants, standing completely in the nude. He leaned over Lily's shoulder, acting as though reaching further inside. He twisted his hips so that the tip of his engorged length stood mere inches from her. Eventually, she noticed it and the heat of her breath only served to make it swell.

C'mon, go for it, he silently pleaded. It all hinged on this. After all, if she stood up, backed out now and refused him, then he'd lose his only chance at this. However, if she was so into the sensation that she would suck him off, then all his hard work was worth it. She had to take it. A little lick. That's all.

Her mouth opened wide. Wider. Her tongue peeked out and Harry's eyes bulged.

She touched the tip with her tongue, held it there for a long moment. Harry almost forget to keep stroking her. Then she took him in, moving her head down an impressive section of his shaft. His toes curled in tight and his knees locked as she sucked with such force. When she took all that she could, she withdrew to the end and went down again, bobbing her head along him.

Harry's fingers clenched, pressing against her slit. He was sorely tempted to stay there, letting her go to work on him. The way her tongue snaked around when she went down on him, how she cradled the base and the balls in her gentle hands was enough to make any man tap out. For a woman who had gone so long without sex, she hadn't lost a step.

Despite the temptation to let her keep going and finish in her mouth, he wanted more. Besides, he refused to leave her unsatisfied, not after offering to help. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and scooped her legs into his other. She yelped and clung to him as he carried her out of the chair, swiftly up the stairs, and to her bedroom.

The bed gave him a lot more room to work with. Setting her down, he tore off her blouse and skirt, fully exposing her. The fingering evidently did its job. She was fully prepared and her legs opened wide for him.

Lily glanced up at Harry. This was the last step. Once they crossed this, there was absolutely no going back. She didn't appear repulsed though. Excited, a little fearful, the exact same as him.

He crawled between her, the tip of his erection pressing against her, but held her cheek in his palm, directing her focus on him. "It's all right. Trust me."

He kissed her tenderly, tilting his head so that they lips molded together in a passionate embrace. She winced when he pushed in and he held the kiss, hopefully reassuring her that it was fine. When he reached the end, he drew back a little. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyelids fluttered. However, she grinned and draped her hands along his shoulders.

"Are you going to keep going or did you plan to stare at me all day?" she asked.

"Bit cheeky for a woman who was just sucking me off," he said, emphasizing with a forceful thrust. Lily squeaked and his chest swelled. He had her completely and he buried his face in her chest while his hips went to work.

For a woman her age, she felt better than many girls at Hogwarts. Hard to believe she'd birthed him with a pussy so tight. Harry was prepared to swear there and now that it was the best he ever had. Probably the taboo of it all heightened the experience, he figured. The same as that morning.

Whatever the case, he wanted to savor the experience and Lily's lusty moans as he rolled his pelvis, angling himself to hit her sensitive areas. Yet another part of him yearned to go faster and be rough with her. All the waiting, the slow agony of trying to make her notice him rose up, transforming the gentle movements into rough fucking.

Lily didn't complain. She lifted her chin high, screaming his name. "Oh, yes! Harry! Harry! Right there! Keep going like that!"

Between her erotic noises, the slapping of skin, and the tight walls squeezing him, he was getting close to finishing already. How's that possible? He forced himself to slow down. However, it was easier to stop a high-speed broom than his raging pelvis. He awkwardly messed up the rhythm between them as he returned to an easy pumping.

She snapped her gaze to him, her cheeks flushed, and wiped wet strands of hair off her forehead. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, thankful that the welling urge dwindled back down to a manageable level. "Didn't want it to end too soon."

"Guess I overdid it a little," she said. "You're not used to someone with more experience."

"Oh, I am." She quirked an eyebrow and he added. "Believe me, I know how to take the lead."

She cupped his cheek and tapped it, chuckling as if he told a joke. "Oh, honey. I don't think you were ever in the lead here."

"Oh, no?" He pulled out fully, then penetrated her again as deep as possible. She cooed and bit her lip. "Seems like I've been in control from the start. Ever since-"

"This morning when you fondled me?"

Harry faltered, his jaw dropping to his knees. The shifting bed springs squeaked boomingly loud in the silence. "What...What did you say?"

"Or do you mean since last summer?" she asked. "You think I would happen to fall asleep like that this morning? Or that I walked around in nearly nothing because I was so sleepy? You think it's an accident I wasn't wearing underwear today? Or that I've been dressing different?"

Suddenly, he was flat on his back. When did that happen? Lily lorded over him, her chest swaying before the tip of his nose, and she carefully removed his glasses. "I've been trying to get you to step up for months." She folded up the glasses and tapped them on the tip of his nose. "Ever since summer."

His mind struggled with her words. She planned all of this? "I know you've been wanting this," she continued. "I've been offering invitations nonstop to do something more than try to show off and prance around like a peacock."

Harry's face burned and he tried to prop himself up, but Lily pushed the center of his chest back down. She laid his glasses on the table and leaned over him, her breasts pressing against his skin. "If you hadn't finally worked up the nerve, then I was going to initiate it. I needed something more and I was going to have it one way or another."

She played him. Him. Harry Potter, the most desirable boy of Hogwarts, captain of the Quidditch team, who every girl fawned over. How did that happen?

"Now, since you seem a little out of sorts," she tipped his mouth closed and pecked his jaw, "how about I show you how to take control?"

With that, her hips raised and slammed back down, grinding against him. Harry sucked in air sharply and stars exploded behind his eyes. Then she did it again and again, steadily setting off unknown bursts of pleasure throughout his being. He tried to contribute, show that he still held the reins. But her practiced hips pinned his down and she kissed him deeply.

"Mommy will take care of this," she said.

His only option was to hold on for dear life. He clutched her firm cheeks and looked up at her. She transformed before his eyes, no longer the sad, depressed shell longing for love, but a woman in her sexual prime, with all the lust and experience that entailed.

Harry seemed to hover above the bed, coasting on a mattress of bliss. That urge before not only grew stronger, it surged to the breaking point in his loins. There was no holding it back this time, not when Lily bounced on him like her life depended on it.

She pressed her palms into the center of his chest, squeezing her breasts together, her cheeks reddened. "Yes, yes, just like that!" she said to herself just as much as him. She called his name, her head lolling backwards.

His jaw clenched, the cords in his arms stood out clear, and he yelled, finally finishing inside her. He threw her hands off and thrusted into her, round after round of fresh seed coating her walls until he exhausted himself. Then he collapsed into a pile, a husk of a boy, as Lily slowly rolled her head around and grinned at him.

"That's more like it," she said.

Harry didn't respond. He hadn't been this worn out since Hermione's late night studying sessions to bring up his and Ron's grades. At least this didn't make his brain pound in a fit, refusing to learn one more fact until it got some sleep.

When he calmed down, Lily traced a finger along their connection, dabbing it into the trails of white juices bubbling out. Harry's eyes snapped open and he tried to sit up. "Bloody hell. I forgot the condom!"

"It's fine," Lily said, tasting the drop on her fingertip. She suckled on it for a moment and leaned close to him, forcing him onto his back. "After all, you once asked for a little brother or sister, didn't you?"

He blinked and tilted his head. "Really? You're sure?"

"Yes, but first," she reached around and groped his scrotum. His shaft twitched inside her and she looked at him, eyes flashing with delight. And an intensity that intimidated him a little. "I think if you can play Quidditch from sunup to sundown, then you can go another few rounds."

As Lily expected, she became pregnant in no time. Harry really did match James when it came to virility. Despite the aches, pains, tiredness, and other symptoms it brought, Lily's libido only increased. The time between breaks seemed terribly long and whenever Harry came home, she cornered him at all hours of the day in all rooms of the house.

Her son didn't mind. He enjoyed it and her growing body, including her breasts swelling and rounding out much like her stomach. As soon as she started lactating, he frequently sucked on her nipples until they were sore. "That's supposed to be for your sister," Lily playfully scolded him.

"I need to hydrate," he said, smirking. "You're insatiable after all."

Everyone at work noticed the change in her, with a few coworkers commenting that pregnancy suited her. "You have a certain glow about you," one witch said and another beside her nodded. Lily's heart swelled at the compliment and she practically skipped to her next meeting, all bright and sunny.

Eventually, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, who she named Jemma. Those Potter genes shined through in her jet black hair and green eyes, much like her brother. She was absolutely perfect.

Private time between Harry and Lily of them proved harder as Jemma aged, as they hid their incestuous relationship from her. But the pair found moments here and there, such as in the shower or late at night after Jemma went to bed. It was a miracle when Jemma received her Hogwarts letter and attended school full-time. That left the house empty for Lily and Harry as much as they pleased once they came home from work.

However, as the first school year passed, Lily noticed that Jemma became fascinated with boys. One in particular, who she was only too happy to see on her first summer break from school. Whenever Harry came home from the Auror's Office, Jemma raced to the door to be the first to greet him. She spent every moment around him, that same attraction Lily had for him evident in her grin and how she hung onto his every word. Harry wasn't completely innocent either, as every now and then, Lily caught him staring at Jemma for a second or two longer than normal. She knew where this would eventually come to.

During Jemma's fourth year at Hogwarts, Lily was proved right when she walked in on her daughter one morning in the bathroom during winter break. Jemma bent over the basin of the shower, baring all and rising her rear high for show. She fumbled with the shower knobs and asked, "Hey, have you been having trouble with the hot water?" She glanced over her shoulder, saw Lily, and tumbled over into the shower in surprise, tearing the curtain down with her.

Lily rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, I'm fine," she said, tucking the curtain around her body and hiding her developing assets. "I just, I mean, I thought you were-"

"Harry?" she asked, amused. "Why were you hoping it was him?"

Her mouth opened and closed with no answer. Lily helped her out of the shower and sat her on the toilet. She squatted in front of her daughter and held her hands. "Be honest. You have a crush on your brother, don't you?"

"What? No, of course not!" She denied it vehemently, but it might as well have been written on her face.

Lily looked her in the eye. "You can trust me. Please?"

Jemma took a few moments, biting her lip. When she met her mother's gaze, the words tumbled out one after another. How she dreamed about Harry, how she didn't mean to, that she knew she shouldn't, but couldn't help herself. How she tried dating around, using magic, ignoring her feelings. Nothing worked.

"I don't know what to do," she said, on the verge of tears.

Lily wrapped her arms around her and hugged Jemma tight. "It's okay, it's okay. Don't worry, I know exactly how to fix this."

"Y-You do?" she sniffed.

"Yes. First, I need to tell you something. Something about your father that I think will help explain things."

When Harry came home that afternoon, a note on the mirror hanging in the foyer told him to come upstairs. Shrugging off his coat, he followed it, calling out to Lily and Jemma.

"We're up here," Lily said from the bedroom.

Poking his head in, Harry expected to find them talking or perhaps planning to go out somewhere. Instead, the pair of them lay on the bed, wearing lacey underwear that left little to the imagination.

"Uh, wh-what's going on here?" Harry looked to his mother as though she'd lost her mind.

"It's fine, dear. She knows." Lily took Jemma's hand and squeezed it. "She wants to join in too."

"If you want me too. Daddy." Jemma batted her eyes at him seductively.

Harry didn't have to think twice. He flung his robes off and joined them in bed. Both girls curled up to him, their hands already running over his body. "Didn't we run out of protection a few days ago?" he asked Lily.

She kissed him and whispered in his ear, "I don't think that'll be necessary." Jemma's eager eyes agreed and he laid back, already mentally preparing for the next two inevitable additions to their family.