Dreams of Mine - Chapter 1

Content Warnings: Short Story, Breast Play, BJs, Teasing, Cum Play, Somnophilia.

Chapter 1: Susan

Susan Bones led an idyllic life. She had a good job, a pretty house, and the perfect husband. There was little more a girl could wish for in life. Sure, the days could be long, her feet always ached at the end of her shift, and she didn’t spend nearly as much time with Harry as she would have liked, but she decided she would only look at the positives as she apparated onto the porch of their house. The wards hummed, then quietened once they had registered her presence and deemed her not to be a threat. She walked into the cottage and made her way to the kitchen, resisting the urge to fling her bag on the couch. Winky had enough on her plate without her making things worse. Running the household of the Head of DMLE was not an easy task.

A lot of people had been more than a little surprised at Harry Potter’s meteoric rise, herself included. However, no one could deny he was a natural fit for the job. Susan was proud of him and the good that he did every single day. She just wished it didn’t keep him away from her so much. 

Her train of thought was interrupted by the corner of their dining table digging into her belly. Flustered, she pulled away from the table and rubbed her stinging stomach.

“Hey, Winky,” she said, smiling at the humming elf. “Doing the dishes, I see. Does that mean Harry’s had dinner already?”

“Yes, mistress,” Winky replied, turning to offer her a deep bow in greeting. “Master Harry said you had a late shift and would not be joining him for dinner. He had dinner by himself and retired to his study for a nightcap.”

“What’d you make?” Susan asked. She set her bag on the table and looked around at the spotless kitchen. Winky had never let them miss Kreacher’s absence. Their house was just as well-maintained as it had been when Kreacher was alive.

“Shepherd’s Pie and Treacle Tart, mistress. Would you like me to heat some for you?”

“No, thank you, Winky. I grabbed something to eat during my shift.”

“A croissant and coffee are not dinner, mistress,” Winky replied reproachfully. She returned to her dishes and resumed her humming as she washed them. 

“Duly noted.” Ignoring the dull ache in her knees, Susan sank and embraced Winky from behind. “Thank you for everything you do for us, Winks. Harry and I are truly grateful that you live with us,” she said, pulling away after kissing the elf’s head. 

“It’s my pleasure, miss. I’ll leave a plate of food on the table if you change your mind.”

“I think what I want right now is my husband and a hot shower.” Susan stood and grabbed her bag from the table. “Goodnight, Winky. Don’t stay up too late.”

Susan made her way through the dark, quiet house and paused in front of the shut door to her husband’s study. Her own study was on the first floor, right next to their bedroom, but she rarely used it. Her office at Mungo’s was more than sufficient, and when she was home, her attention usually remained solely fixed on her husband. They had a lot of catching up to do, after all, and even a lifetime did not seem like enough time to regain what the war had taken from them. 

She knocked on the door, gently pushing it open when there was no response. The lights were dimmed, and the only source of illumination in the room was the flickering fire in the fireplace. Harry was fast asleep in his favourite rocking chair next to the fireplace, a half-full glass of firewhiskey still in his hand.

Susan smiled. She knew he liked to reminisce, especially on days when reality was too much to deal with. She slipped out of her heels and gently placed them next to the door before quietly padding over to her asleep husband. 

“Good evening,” she whispered, bending to kiss his cheek.

Harry mumbled in his sleep. 

Susan plucked the glass of firewhiskey from his hand, sighing after sniffing it. 

Some wounds never truly heal.

Harry had told her he was making good progress with his mind healer, but Josephine had privately warned her that it would be a while before Harry could enjoy anything resembling ‘normal’ sleep. She wished she could do more than simply brew the potion Josephine had prescribed for him. 

“I wish I could take some of that pain, my love,” Susan whispered. She gently pushed the fringes of his messy black hair away from his forehead and bent to kiss his scar. Her smile faltered at his quiet groan. “I’m sorry you had a bad day, sweetheart. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier to hear about it.”

Susan took off Harry’s glasses, then walked over to his messy desk and placed the glass and the spectacles on the polished wood. Harry still hadn’t gotten into the habit of using a coaster, but extra work for Winky was now last in her list of worries. She took a deep breath, drawing on her training to compartmentalise her thoughts. 

“Come on, love. Let’s get you upstairs. You’ll mess up your neck and back sleeping here,” Susan said. She carefully levitated Harry with a simple charm and carried him out of the study. Talking to him while he was asleep felt strangely therapeutic. He still had the same effect on her as he had the day they’d met, and it was sometimes far easier for her to express her feelings when she knew he wasn’t paying attention. “You don’t have to save the world and correct every wrong, you know? You did your part. The others need to pick up the slack.”

There were days she wished her husband had followed the same path his best friend had taken. Ron Weasley led a laid-back life, cashing in on his books and speaking engagements while he followed whatever latest fad had caught his fancy. That wasn’t Harry. That could never be Harry. And despite her worry, it was exactly why she loved him so much. 

“Let’s get the Minister of Magic into a proper bed,” she murmured, pushing open the door to their bedroom. Their haven was simplistic and the perfect synthesis of their personalities. Neither cared much for luxury beyond basic comfort. A large bed and walk-in closet dominated the room, leaving little space for other furniture. Susan carried Harry over to the bed and gently laid him down onto the soft mattress. “There. Much better.”

“What would you do without me?” she said fondly. 

“No… find out,” Harry mumbled in response and rolled over onto his belly.

“Of course you never will. I’m not going anywhere, love.” Susan peeled off her grimy green healer’s robes, dropping them into the wicker laundry basket by the door. Her white blouse and black skirt were next. “I had a scrofula case today. Resistant to most lotions. I swear I’m covered in pus.”

She liked being a healer. In another life, she would perhaps have chosen to be a baker and opened a small cafe in Diagon Alley. As things stood, there was too much pain and misery still left in the world for her to waste her talents.

“The baker and the international Quidditch star. It sounds like a muggle rom-com,” Susan giggled. She freed her hair from the high ponytail it had been secured in for her shift, letting the red curls cascade down her back. “Do you ever regret not going pro?”

“Mhmmm?”

“Of course you don’t,” Susan said, already knowing his answer. She slipped her arms through the straps of her bra, freeing her body from the offending garment. It too joined her robes in the laundry basket. Susan walked over to the vanity and studied herself critically in the mirror. Her breasts were marked by indentations from the bra. She traced one that ran along the curve of her chest, hissing softly. “I don’t either. I like helping people. But sometimes you can’t help but wonder what could have been, you know? Like what if I hadn’t been cursed with boulders for breasts?” Susan gently pushed her hands below her underboob and pushed against the soft swell of her chest, providing herself with temporary relief against the effects of gravity.

Harry groaned into the duvet.

“Don’t worry, they’re not going anywhere,” Susan giggled. Her fingers dug into the soft flesh as she massaged her aching breasts. Although her hands provided much-needed relief, they just weren’t as good or as satisfying as Harry’s massages. “Honestly, it wouldn’t be so bad if I found good bras. They’re so big I can’t even go commando and hide it under a cloak.”

Harry’s only response was incoherent mumbling.

Susan turned to look at her husband, slightly disappointed that he was too asleep to notice the effect he was already having on her. Even the thought of sharing a bed with him had left her face flushed and nipples erect, with a hint of dampness teasing the inside of her thighs. Morgana, she was down bad for him. 

Susan pulled her underwear down her legs and kicked the tiny piece of fabric into her hands. She scrunched the panties into a ball- “And Bones with the quaffle intercept! She’s racing to the goals, can she do it?!” She tossed the underwear into the wicker basket. “And she scores!”

Susan struck a pose in front of the vanity and wiggled her butt in satisfaction. Random tosses into the laundry basket were the greatest extent of her Quidditch ability. She did not belong on a broom unless Harry took her flying with him. Once the euphoria had worn off, she reached out and grabbed a cheek before slapping it gently, studying the resulting jiggle through the mirror.

“My butt and waist are much better now, don’t you think?”

“Mhmmmm.” Harry smacked his lips loudly.

“I’ll take that as approval,” Susan giggled. She pranced over to her husband and kissed him softly. “I’ll shower quickly, then I’ll take care of you, my love.”

Susan rested her forehead against his, reluctant to leave him. Their less charitable friends called it co-dependency, but they were wrong. She could easily imagine a life without him. But was such a life even worth living? 

After everything they’d both gone through, did they not deserve this one reward?

“Be back soon,” she whispered, kissing his cheek and pulling away before her resolve faltered. They’d made a pact to never bring their work to bed with them soon after marriage, and she was covered from head to toe in hers. She needed to wash off the dried pus, potion residue, and whatever else coated her skin and hair. 

In contrast to their bedroom, their bathroom was lavishly furnished and ornamented. Both of them were in the habit of taking long, hot showers and had wanted a pleasant room to relax in. 

Susan studied her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Removing her make-up felt like shedding the last layer of armour she put on every day to battle the demons of the world. There wasn’t much to take off. She had neither the time nor the desire to be overly elaborate with her makeup. Wet cotton balls wiped away her lipstick and mascara, immediately followed by a quick scrub with her strawberry-scented face wash. She looked at herself in the mirror again. Freckles, the hint of darkness below her eyelids, and lips that didn’t quite pop as much as they had a minute ago. Harry considered her beautiful with and without make-up. She had her doubts.

Susan stretched, then walked into the glass cubicle separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. The first stream of steaming hot water that hit her skin drew out a relieved hiss from her lips. Her husband’s presence was the only thing missing. Without thinking, her right hand drifted lower. It pushed between her thick thighs, nimble fingers pulling apart the lips that guarded her nethers.

Gods, it had been so long since they’d properly made love. Quickies on his desk… quickies in Mungo’s supply closets… quickies in the shower. They always left her filled but unfulfilled. Susan slammed her left palm against the bathroom wall and leaned under the steady stream of water.

“Fuck, I’ve nearly forgotten how good he can feel in me,” she groaned. She needed a proper, marathon fuck session like they used to have in their tent, all those years ago. Her fingers fumbled around her clit, bringing her hollow pleasure. Her fingers pumping in and out of her pussy felt wholly unsatisfactory now that she had ample experience of the alternative. “Harry, sweetheart, I need you,” she moaned.

Susan squeezed her eyes shut and brought her left hand to her swaying breasts. A nipple was located and pinched, the harsh jolt of pain dragging a breathy moan out of her. She slowly twisted the pink nub, letting the resulting ache transport her to the world of fantasies. A strong hand in her hair and on her hip, holding her in place as her muscular husband manhandled her as he pleased.

“Fuck Harry, take me now,” she blubbered. Clumsy fingers massaged her aching breast, pulling her closer to the edge. She could see it now. Her head on his shoulder, his honeyed tongue whispering filthy endearments in her ears as he put a baby in her. Every thrust powerful enough to make the bed rattle and her breasts bounce. His fingers would sink into the soft flesh, and he’d push her into the bed, asking her if she was his good girl.

“Yes, I am, yes I am, yes I am,” Susan chanted.

He’d mount her like a stallion and take his prize…

Susan keened as the orgasm washed over her unexpectedly. Her knees buckled, too weak to support her anymore. She collapsed onto the bathroom floor, surrounded by water and the arousal leaking out of her. Her fingers were sticky with her cum. She stared at the gleaming digits until the water washed it away. Her orgasm wasn’t enough. Nothing she did to herself left her fully satiated anymore.

“You’re so annoying, dearest,” Susan grumbled. “Be worse in bed.”

Ignoring the temptation to go for another round, Susan stood on shaky feet and washed away all evidence of what had just transpired. Her hair was next, the voluminous red curls first carefully washed with strawberry-scented shampoo and then treated with a similarly-scented conditioner.

Feeling clean but no less grumpy, Susan patted herself dry and walked out of the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around her body. She made her way into their closet, going through her options before choosing a pink babydoll nightgown. She wore nothing underneath the sheer garment. Whatever it revealed wasn’t anything Harry hadn’t seen before.

Her hair was twisted into a bun secured with her wand, and the towel dropped into the laundry basket before she turned her attention to her husband. Harry was still sleeping in the same position she’d left him in, on his stomach with his face buried in the duvet and feet dangling off the bed.

“Maybe your job should be your wife’s professional lover, dearest,” Susan murmured as she kneeled in front of the bed. She unlaced his black leather boots and pulled them off his feet before peeling off his socks, pushing both shoes and socks to one corner of the room. “It’s not like either of us needs money.” She climbed onto the bed and crawled up to him. “I swear, I don’t get why Hermione complains about marriage screwing up their sex life. I only seem to want you more. Which, I guess, has screwed up my sex life because I’m just as frustrated as Hermione. Just for different reasons,” Susan muttered, tapping her chin. 

“Hmm?”

“Your wife is going batty, love,” Susan said fondly. She wiped a trickle of drool leaking out of the corner of Harry’s lips with her thumb. “Talking to herself. Come on, let’s get you undressed,” she said, rolling him over with some difficulty. 

Susan climbed on top of Harry and straddled his waist, using her newfound leverage to quickly unbutton his white shirt and black trousers. It took a lot of struggle and some magic, but she got them off him and into the laundry basket in a few minutes. Harry was left in oversized blue boxers that did nothing to hide his impressive erection. 

Susan knew the wisest course of action was to free the duvet, get underneath it with her husband, and cuddle him until she fell asleep. But, try as she might, she couldn’t take her eyes off the bulge in his underwear. 

It wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. They had an explicit arrangement since their earliest days together. She had lost track of the number of times she had woken up to his warmth sliding inside her. She belonged to him, and he to her. While she rarely returned the favour, now felt like the perfect time to do so. It seemed rude to go to sleep and leave him in his current state. 

“I vowed to never let you go to bed angry, sad, or frustrated,” she whispered. She used a simple spell to push him further up the bed and climbed on herself, the mattress creaking quietly under her weight. Harry groaned, and the bulge in his boxers twitched, pulling her attention to it. “Having a dream, my love? Let’s make sure it’s a happy ending,” she murmured. 

Susan’s fingers dug into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down his legs. Once they were on the floor, she turned around and was greeted by the sight of Harry’s magnificent erection. Its head was already glistening with the precum oozing out of its tip. Susan straddled his legs and bent, wrapping her hands around his shaft and guiding its tip to her pink lips.

“Mhm, you’re so delicious,” she whispered, kissing it gently. She was enjoying herself more than she’d anticipated. It was different when he wasn’t paying attention. She could voice her thoughts without shame and embarrassment. “I’m an unrepentant cock goblin,” she giggled to herself. She wrapped her lips around his shaft, enjoying the low groan elicited by her teeth grazing against his delicate skin. “Gobble.” She swallowed a couple of inches. “Gobble.” Another couple. She was nearly there. “Ghobble,” she mumbled, burying her nose in his crotch. 

Freshly cut grass, daffodils, and a hint of wood polish. Harry’s scent always reminded her of a sunny day. She sighed happily, her worries washing away as she allowed herself to be enveloped by his presence. Susan sucked lazily, re-committing his taste to memory as she brought him to full mast. It wasn’t long before she had to pull back, his erection big enough now to trigger her gag reflex. 

Susan released herself from his cock with a satisfied moan. Morgana, she had missed his arousal staining her lips. She licked them clean, savouring the salty precum now on her tongue. There wasn’t enough of it to swallow, but that was a predicament that could easily be fixed.

“You’re so big,” she whispered, wrapping her right hand around the base of his shaft. She rolled off him and lay down on her side, propping up her head with her left hand so she could see his entire cock. “The first time I saw you naked, I was worried about internal injuries. You were so gentle our first time together.” Her thumb gently traced the spidery veins bulging through the skin of his shaft, committing each to memory. She pumped his shaft languidly, her fist moving with her thumb as she explored his manhood.

This is why a dildo will never feel as good.

While they weren’t averse to using toys, Ginny’s advice simply couldn’t live up to the real thing. How could she use a toy when her husband was away if the memory of the real thing was practically branded into her memories? No dildo in the world felt as good as her husband’s cock. 

“You’re leaking,” Susan tutted playfully. “It’s a new duvet, love. Can’t have you staining it.” 

She leaned in, lapping up the trickles of precum with long, languid strokes of her tongue from the base of his shaft right up to its tip. Every lick was rewarded with more precum that demanded her attention. Harry groaned and bucked his hips, pushing her shaft against her cheek and leaving a streaking of glistening arousal on her skin.

“Wrong place,” Susan giggled. “You know I don’t like wastage.” 

Susan lowered her hand to the base of his shaft and wrapped her lips around the tip, slowly pushing herself down on his length until she gagged. She stayed put, massaging his stiff cock with slow strokes of her tongue. A jet of precum hit the back of her throat, causing her to gasp and pull back in surprise.

She sat on the bed, looking at her sleeping husband with a mixture of shock and bemusement.

“This is new.” She closed her eyes and focused on the tingling at the back of her throat. “I like it when you lose control,” she whispered. “You don’t have to hold back every time, you know? You can cum before me.”

Susan buried her face between his thighs, finding something new to worship. She placed tender kisses on his balls as her hand returned to his shaft. Every stroke caused the skin around his balls to tighten, drawing a delighted giggle out of her. 

“You’re so perfect.” 

Unbidden, a hand pushed between her thighs. She could never have enough of him. Her fingers teased her lips, inflicting the same kind of torment she was subjecting him to. Her breathing grew heavier as she sucked on globes underneath his shaft. It was rare that she got to lavish such attention on them. She grazed her teeth against his skin, causing a spurt of cum to shoot out of him.

“Oh!”

Her stained hand was replaced by her lips within seconds. She lowered herself on his length, not stopping until she reached its base. She pulled back, only to lower herself once more. Susan repeated the action again and again, gagging and drooling around his shaft while her tongue worshipped it. Ropes of cum periodically splattered against the back of her throat, making it much harder to continue. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she fought back the urge to cough, but she did not relent. Only when he was dry did she pull away, coughing and gasping for breath.

“Mine,” she rasped, licking her lips clean. His salty essence filled her entire mouth. Her lips tingled, her jaw was numb, and her throat was already sore.

She was the luckiest, happiest woman in existence, Susan decided.

“I love you so much.”

Susan returned to his cock, licking it clean as it slowly returned to its unaroused state. Harry, who was usually very vocal in bed, responded only with sighs and quiet moans. 

“Thank you for this gift, dearest,” she whispered. 

Susan clambered off him and pulled her wand out of her hair, using it to magic the duvet out from under him. She climbed back into bed, nuzzling into his side with her head resting on his firm chest. Once the duvet was over them, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to be transported to pleasant dreams. 

She woke the next morning to gentle but insistent prodding. Turning around, Susan looked out the window and realised it was far too early for her to be awake. The blinds had been pulled apart, but the room was still dark, and the  sun was barely over the horizon, 

“What’s the matter, Winky?” Susan mumbled, looking at the elf with half-open eyes.

“Miss Greengrass is at the door, mistress,” Winky answered with an apologetic bow. “She says she must speak with the Minister.”

“Right now?!”

“She says it’s urgent.”

“Daphne and her hyperbole.” Susan groaned and turned, burying her face in her husband’s back. His warmth would soon be gone, and she would have the bed to herself. Not a good trade by any measure. “Can you please tell your Senior Undersecretary to go away?”

“Master Harry won’t wake up,” Winky interjected with a delicate cough. “Should I send Miss Greengrass away?”

“No, I’ll never hear the end of it. Have her wait in Harry’s study and bring her some tea and biscuits, Winky. I’ll wake him up.”

“Yes, mistress.” Winky bowed and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Susan asked after burying her face against Harry’s back. “The effects of the potion don’t last this long.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled.

“You don’t want to go deal with whatever’s worrying Daphne?”

“Mhm.” 

“Do you want me to send her away?”

“No.”

“Well, darling, then it appears we are at an impasse.”

Harry turned around to face her. His eyes were closed, and Susan was certain he was still half-asleep. She leaned closer and kissed him softly. She liked him in his current state. Happy, vulnerable, and without the worries of an entire nation on his shoulders.

“I had the nicest dream for the first time in a very long time,” Harry murmured. “Don’t wanna give it up.”

“Oh?”

“You got me into bed and took care of me.”

Susan’s gaze lowered. As tempting as his abs and the trail of hair on his abdomen were, his attention was immediately drawn to his raging erection. His cock was rock-hard, and no trace of her efforts from the previous night was visible. 

“That wasn’t a dream, dearest,” Susan whispered. She rested her head on his chest, her hair framing her face in a fiery halo. “I did get you into bed,” she said, peppering his chest with kisses.

“And blew me?”

“I took care of you,” Susan hummed. “I doubt Daphne wants to be at our house this early either, love. So, how about I take care of you some more, and then you go see what she wants?”

“Oh?”

Susan pushed the duvet away and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. His erection pushed against her bum. She grinned and wriggled, trapping his shaft between her firm cheeks. 

“Fuck,” Harry breathed, bucking his hips. “Susie…”

“New treatment regimen from your healer, Mr Potter. One in the morning and one every night,” Susan giggled. 

“I’m not- I’m not complaining.”

“Good boy.”

Susan grabbed his shoulder for support and lifted herself, spreading her thighs and positioning his cock between them. Her right hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, guiding its tip as she lowered herself on him. A satisfied groan escaped her lips when his tip parted her lips and inch after inch of his length was enveloped by her warmth. Her walls stretched to accommodate his girth. Years of being together, and she still hadn’t gotten used to his size. 

“How long must I follow this regimen?” Harry murmured, bucking his hips. Even asleep, he knew exactly what to do. His hands fumbled blindly until he located her hips and pulled her down with him.

“The rest of your life,” Susan groaned. She wriggled on his lap, her heavy breasts swaying inches away from his face as she tried to find the perfect position.

“What’re you-”

“Need you to hit… spot,” Susan gasped. Her vision blurred, and she saw stars as his tip brushed against that sensitive spot inside her. “Oh… so… big.”

“Rethinking the regimen?”

“Never,” Susan croaked. “Mine for life.”

“Seems excessive,” Harry teased.

“Should’ve thought of that before marrying me,” Susan growled. “Now, hush.” She tugged at the edge of her babydoll nightgown, pulling her breasts free. Once her arms were free of the straps, she leaned closer, pushing her chest against his face.

“I’m being smothered!” Harry groaned.

“And?” Susan began to rock her hips. Her hands grasped the bed’s headboard for support. Every few seconds, she’d pull away from him, only to sink back onto his cock and bury his face in the softness of her bosom.

“What a way to go,” Harry groaned. His hands grabbed her sides and pulled her down, pinning her against him. His eyes were still closed, but it didn’t take a lot of searching for his lips to find her nipple. They wrapped around the stiff pink nub and began to suck, drawing a strangled groan from Susan’s lips.

“Not… fair…” Susan moaned. Her vision darkened as Harry gently bit the stiff nub, tugging on it with his teeth. “Wanna… make… cum…”

“Together,” Harry murmured once he had pulled away from her.

Susan nodded and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. She peppered his skin, worshipping him with her lips as she began to rock her hips once more. Up, down, up, down. Every movement away from him felt wrong, but was quickly replaced by an all-too-familiar pressure in her belly as his girth pushed deep inside her.

“Did you have fun last night?”

“Y-yes,” Susan moaned. Her hand moved between her thighs. She located her clit and massaged the sensitive nub desperately, eager to tumble over the edge with him.

“You can do it whenever you want.”

“Really?!”

“Yes, sweetheart,” Harry whispered. He tugged on her fiery curls, pulling her until she was face-to-face with him. “Want you in my dreams,” he groaned. “Cum for me, princess.”

His lips drowned out her strangled shriek as she squirted, drenching his thighs and the sheets underneath them with her arousal. He followed her seconds later, filling her with his precious seed. Susan collapsed on top of her husband, kissing every part of his body that she could reach in blind adoration.

Their time together was cut short by an urgent knock on the door.

“Who is it?” she asked tiredly. 

“Daphne. Is Harry up? I’m afraid this can’t wait.”

“Pretty much,” Susan replied with a sigh. “Give him ten, and he’ll be downstairs.”

The real world called, but she still had her husband for now. And, she decided as she kissed the corner of his lips, she would make every second count.

Notes:

Not a new long story, this is a short story based on a fun idea shared by a Patron. It will have 3-4 chapters and will mostly focus on Harry and Susan's married life after the war. I rarely get to write happily-ever-after's, so this is a fun opportunity for me to explore that as a setting. Obviously not epilogue compliant, and the focus will remain firmly on Harry and Susan. I'm growing more fond of them as a ship, they are a fun couple to write. This story also has a more playful relationship between them, reflecting years of being in a relationship.