Female Harry Potter Fan Art Novels & Stories

He sputtered. And here he saw the mature mother lick her lips, rather seductively he thought. Coupled with the way her tits were showing in that top, wooo! The big milf jugs... cleavage galore! And at once Harry's mind was filled with wanton thoughts of sliding his dick up and down between her breasts, as his precum leaked out and slickened down the skin. Providing a smooth, effortless surface. “Uhh... see something good, Harry?” His girlfriend inquired, raising an eyebrow in contempt.

Her perfectly serene doll-like look was ruined however by the tired scowl which decorates her face. Rubisviel Fyaril, the Orchid Butterfly Witch of the Dark Forest wipes the sweat from her brow and huffed after completing a drawing of a Cthulhu symbol inside her circle. Thick black bags hang under her tired golden eyes and her face was paler than usual. Her head hurts like a battle-ax was splitting it open and her shoulders and legs are aching after prolonged hours of sitting on the ground and focusing on drawing the symbols.

I can't see her face through her hair. I approach as she's moving her arm furiously. When I get closer, I realize she's drawing something on a pad. "Sam?" I say quietly as I take a few more cautious steps. She doesn't stop. "Sammy?' I get closer. When I'm close enough, I try to reach for her. Her head whips around snarling and growling. Her wolf is out. I jump back at the sight. Her face is twisted in anger, her canines are out and her eyes are glowing pink. Fucking hot pink!

I close my eyes and try to breathe deeply. I look at them again when I feel Harry's hand on my cheek. His eyes say more than a thousand words; he's comforting me. Suddenly, he signals me to sit on his lap. "That's true, I won't deny it. That woman has a sign on her forehead that says 'I'm the sluttiest slut!'" he says, laughing. "Just imagine, the poor thing is probably afraid that her own friend will screw her boyfriend. Believe me, even I would be on alert because that woman is a whore who doesn't respect anyone with a penis. She's..."

I blinked at the girl, asking myself what the hell she was doing here, looking very beautiful and attractive like that. I couldn't control myself from taking in her outfit. She was dressed in sexy shorts and crop top, her belly ring on display as well as her white waist beads. Harry likes waist beads. My stomach tightened at that thought. He has not been the usual Harry I know. Instead of fighting and complaining, he been acting too cool for my liking, and this girl here, Lena, just showed up from nowhere to appear sexy, of course she will be the one getting all his attention with her cute belly rings, attractive curves and beautiful waist beads. Why can I not get Harry's attention the way s

Deliberately forgot, but that's hardly the point. I grind my pussy against his hardness as he swipes my hair to one side. He buries his face in my exposed neck and takes a long sniff. "You smell like a real-life wet dream." Real-life wet dream? I laugh at my vivid imagination. Tens of women at work drool over Rhys Redmond, but I must be the only one filling up pages with fantasies of things that will never happen. If this doesn’t get me checked into a mental facility, nothing will.

Maybe years. And then I see the drawings. Taped to the walls, scattered across tables, covering nearly every surface I can see. Sketches in charcoal and pencil, some detailed and finished, most of them half-done like he started and couldn’t bring himself to continue. All of them are the same person. A girl. Young, fourteen or fifteen maybe, with long dark hair and this smile that looks like it could light up an entire room. In some of the drawings she’s laughing at something off the page. In others she’s concentrating hard, her tongue stuck between her teeth the way kids do when they’re focused.

After parting the curtain a little in an unnoticeable manner, Harry peeped to see if he could recognise anyone. At first, all he could see were three teenage boys in a hoodie. Later when he began to pick words from the conversation, he realised there was only a masculine in the trio; the others appeared to be feminine. This was vindicated when one pulled her hoodie off her head, and shaked her hair. It was a short bub, and Harry couldn't remember where he'd seen this person, but he was sure the face was familiar — he just couldn't place it right.

“I want you to draw for me a good, outstanding poster which reflect to pollution.” I felt my shoulders relax and also the hair at the back of my neck relaxed. “Po…Poster?” I finally asked. “Yes, stupid the geography project” she replied. “OH, almost forgot you had decided to quit school for these last few weeks.” She flicked her curly raven black hair from her shoulder while letting out a short rude laughter which sounded almost like ‘Maleficent’. At that instant I realized that she was actually cute, and childish. She wasn’t a bad dragon at all but a soft, cute, and vulnerable girl who had painted herself with these horrible actions just to survive this harsh world.

He sputtered. And here he saw the mature mother lick her lips, rather seductively he thought. Coupled with the way her tits were showing in that top, wooo! The big milf jugs... cleavage galore! And at once Harry's mind was filled with wanton thoughts of sliding his dick up and down between her breasts, as his precum leaked out and slickened down the skin. Providing a smooth, effortless surface. “Uhh... see something good, Harry?” His girlfriend inquired, raising an eyebrow in contempt.