A Mother's Love

He only slept for a couple of hours before Ron woke him for breakfast. It was much the same as the day before – pretending he wasn’t trying to avoid looking at Molly. As they were clearing up afterwards, Hermione asked Mrs. Weasley if there was anything she could do to help out around the house. The other Weasleys ducked out at the mention of work, with the exception of Ron, whose shirttail was firmly within Hermione’s grasp.

“Now that you mention it, dear,” Molly said, “my tomatoes are ripe and I’d love to can some tonight. Would you pick them for me? There’s a basket by the back door.”

“Of course, anything you need,” Hermione said cheerfully, “Isn’t that right, Ron?”

“Uh, right, sure Mum, whatever,” Ron mumbled, sullenly following Hermione out of the kitchen.

Molly looked alarmed as she realized that she was now alone with Harry. “Oh,” she said, flustered, “I forgot to remind Hermione to rinse the tomatoes – I’d better go and tell her.” She bustled towards the door.

“Molly.” Harry spoke quietly, but that one word was enough to stop her in her tracks. She turned to face him, her face tight, her shoulders tense with nervousness. “I want to apologize,” he continued, moving toward her and taking her hand. “I had no right to barge in on you like that. You were just so – so beautiful!”

He could not have said anything more unexpected to her. Tears immediately gathered in her brown eyes and threatened to overflow. “No one’s said that to me in years,” she whispered, “not since I was a young woman, with only two babies clinging to my skirts instead of a whole pack.” She laughed weakly and wiped her eyes. Harry smiled.

“But you are beautiful,” he said, raising a hand to her face. His fingertips slid lightly down her cheek to cup her chin. His lips felt drawn to hers and he was unable to stop himself from kissing her. The moment their lips met, he lost all control. His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her body tight against his. Plunging his tongue into her mouth, he moaned deep in his throat as he felt her kiss him back.

Molly felt her will weakening. Weak-kneed and dizzy, she clutched at his shoulders desperately to keep from falling as he ravaged her mouth. His lips moved to her throat, then lower, as he opened the buttons of her blouse one by one, kissing each inch of flesh as it was revealed. He stopped and smiled slyly when he realized that her bra was front-hooking. He had it open in a moment and was caressing her bared breasts.

“Beautiful, beautiful,” he murmured, over and over, as he kissed the pale white skin. His mouth closed around her nipple and he sucked gently on it. Her knees almost buckled at the sensation. Overwhelmed by his sudden aggressiveness, she didn’t protest as he drew her toward the table and lay her back against it. Her legs wrapped around him instinctively as he pressed his hips into her. She could feel his erect cock through his jeans and moaned, pulling him down on top of her, her hand reaching down to caress him. He ground against her hand, begging her silently not to stop.

She did stop. Sitting up slightly, Molly grabbed his hips and pulled, urging him to join her on the table. When he did, she did not hesitate to unbutton his jeans. His cock sprang up, finally freed, and her eyes widened. “Here,” she said simply, gesturing for him to move up. He half-crawled, half-scooted up the table until he knelt over her chest with her hands on his thighs. Her mouth opened and he guided the tip of his dick in.

“Oh, fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping her ginger head as she sucked him. He had never imagined anything could feel like this. Her tongue danced wildly over the head of his dick and her hands stroked rhythmically up and down his denim-covered thighs. It didn’t take him long to cum. To his shock, she didn’t push him away, but drew him closer, taking every drop and swallowing it.

He all but collapsed afterwards, panting and sweating. “Fuck, Molly,” he breathed, caressing her exposed breasts again, “that was amazing.”

She laughed. “Haven’t you ever gotten a blow job before?”

“No,” he said, raising one eyebrow at her.

She was surprised. “Oh. As attractive as you are, I’d have thought the girls would be all over you,” she said as she hooked her bra and buttoned her blouse.

“They are, sometimes,” he said thoughtfully, buttoning himself as well, “but I always wonder if it’s me they like or they just want a chance to shag the great Harry Potter.” This last was said somewhat bitterly. He scowled at the thought and turned away, sliding down to sit on the bench by the table.

Molly joined him, taking his hand comfortingly. “I hope you don’t think – I mean,” she stammered, “I truly care about you, Harry.”

“I know you do, Molly.” Harry smiled at her. Just then, they heard voices outside. Ron and Hermione were returning with the tomatoes. “I’d better go,” Harry said, standing.

“Tonight, at midnight,” Molly whispered, “will you meet me?”

He nodded quickly and ducked out of the kitchen just as Ron burst through the door, lugging a large basket of plump tomatoes. “Here they are, Mum,” he wheezed, “where do you want them?”

“Oh, on the table is fine,” she said, turning away to hide her flushed and sweaty face. This is going to be a long day, she thought, smiling softly to herself.