Hogsmeade Inn ch.2

Harry woke up with his face resting on something soft and comfortable. It was an incredible feeling. He snuggled into it, trying to hold onto that blissful sensation for as long as he could.

"There, there, Harry," said a beautiful, angelic voice. "The healer will be with you shortly. Just wait a moment."

His eyes opened, and he saw two familiar eyes.

Bellatrix.

He was nestled against her heavenly bosom. She held him close to her body. Overhead, fluorescent lights shone. This was some sort of waiting room. The healer's office.

"I think you had a heatstroke, darling. Relax."

He tried to sit up, but Bellatrix gently pushed him back down. His resistance waned, and his face disappeared back into her embrace. Sleep overcame him.

He woke up some time later. His head throbbed dull pain. The bright light above him blinded him, and he squinted his eyes. Where was his pillow made of heavenly bosoms? The slab he lay on was cold and hard.

"You've woken up. That's good."

A female voice, Australian accent. He turned his head towards the source.

"Where the bloody hell am I?"

"Hogsmeade, England. Far from home, Harry Potter." A woman in her thirties with chestnut hair tied in a ponytail stood over him. Thick-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. A healer. A healer.

"Who are you?"

"Hermione."

"What happened?"

"From what I could gather, you decided it would be a good idea to hike in the mountains in full sun on an empty stomach after spending over twenty-four hours in travel and a Floo trip. Does that ring a bell?"

"Ugh," Harry grimaced. "Sounds like me."

"Bellatrix brought you here. You scared that woman, Harry. You owe her an apology."

"Sorry," he mumbled. This woman meant business. He hadn't been scolded like this since he made a particularly awful joke to Beauxbatons' headmistress.

Harry Potter attempted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness immediately hit him. Soft hands gently pushed him back to the ground.

"Take it easy," she said. "Your body has taken quite a toll. I need to conduct a full examination."

His heart quickened as she pulled his shirt over his head. His mind told him her touch was purely clinical, but when she ran her nails across his chest, he began to have doubts. She pressed various points.

"Does this hurt?"

"No."

She pressed a cold wand to his chest, and he took a sharp breath.

"Everything sounds good, but you need to be more careful, Harry."

"I get it now."

Without a word, Hermione unbuttoned her jeans. "What are you doing?" he said.

She looked at him sternly. "A full examination, as I said. Can I continue?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Alright."

The woman in the white lab coat pulled down his pants. He remained on the examination table in just his boxers while she examined his legs and checked his reflexes. He tried not to think, but his thoughts wandered to Daphne and Bellatrix. To the soft breasts he had awakened on. To the hand now sliding down his leg.

Nature was at work again.

His penis grew, and this time there were no jeans to conceal the pulsating erection.

"Hermione," she said professionally, as her hand slowly moved up his thigh. "When was the last time you ejaculated, Harry?"

"What?" he stammered.

Her hand rested on his bare thigh.

"A young, healthy man like you needs regular release. When was the last time you did it?"

"I don't remember."

It was hard to think clearly as the hot hand of the healer approached his pulsating erection.

"I think I've diagnosed the problem. I personally recommend a minimum of three releases per week. I'll show you what you need to do."

With one swift motion, Hermione slipped her thumbs into his boxers and pulled them down to his ankles. His rock-hard erection sprang free, hitting his stomach, already glistening with precum. All he could do was stare in shock as the healer donned a pair of gloves, applied some lubricant to her hands, smiled gently, and then grasped his throbbing shaft with both hands. She squeezed his erection firmly, and a deep, primal moan escaped his lips.

"Oh God," he uttered.

"Yes," Hermione said, "you need to relax, Harry."

Her hands worked his shaft with skill and precision. This woman knew exactly what she was doing. With one hand, she massaged his sensitive balls, while the other stroked his length. Her tongue peeked out of her lips as she focused entirely on giving him pleasure.

"That's it, Harry," she said. "You're doing great."

Her tone remained professional even as his hips bucked and he released his load. Hermione quickened her pace, vigorously stroking him. Her hands were a blur, and her grip was tight.

She leaned in closer, her eyes laser-focused on his member. She opened her mouth, and he felt her hot breath on the tip of his cock.

He gripped the sides of the examination table as a powerful orgasm built within him. He was about to climax, all over Hermione's face if she wasn't careful.

"Oh, fuck, I'm coming," he moaned. "I'm coming!"

Hermione let out a soft cry. "Yes, come for me, darling," she said.

The Australian healer didn't stop pumping him. No, she sped up, her mouth wide open, her hot breath enveloping his tip.

He exploded.

Hot semen shot out, covering the healer's face in thick streams. She leaned in and wrapped her hot lips around the head of his cock, pumping and milking him to ensure every last drop of his cum was drained from his balls.

His hips bucked, and he groaned loudly as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over him. Hermione swallowed his entire load, emptying him like a vacuum as she milked him until he was dry.

After a solid minute, the healer finally let go. His spent cock flopped onto his stomach, exhausted and satisfied. Hermione licked her lips and swallowed before straightening up. Her posture returned to being calm and professional.

Except for the thick pools of cum that still trickled down the beautiful woman's cheeks.

She methodically removed her sperm-covered gloves, then grabbed a tissue to wipe the cum from her face. "How do you feel now, Harry? Better?"

"Ugh," he groaned. "Yeah. Fucking hell."

"Excellent. By the way, your semen is of excellent quality and consistency. From now on, I want to make sure you release like this a minimum of three times a week, understood?"

"Yes, healer."

"And be sure to apologize to Bellatrix."

"Yes, healer."

"Perfect. I'll let Bellatrix know you're ready to go."

Harry slowly got dressed, wondering which layer of heaven he was in. His body still tingled from the powerful orgasm. Bellatrix and Hermione were in the waiting room, engaged in conversation.

"Harry!" Bellatrix exclaimed as soon as she saw him. She rushed over and wrapped one arm around his waist as if she were afraid he might collapse at any moment. "Hermione told me the heat was too much for you, but now you're feeling much better!"

"Oh, yes. Much better."

Hermione smiled professionally, but a glint appeared in her blue eyes. "Harry needs to rest and recover for at least two full days before he can perform any physical work. The longer he rests, the better."

Bellatrix nodded feverishly. "Of course. Harry, you'll stay at my house. I'll take care of you."

"That won't be necessary; I feel fine," he protested.

"Nonsense! It's my fault," Bellatrix said. "And I will make it right."

Hermione looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "No, no, it's my fault," he said, bowing deeply. "I need to apologize."

"Staying with Bellatrix is a great idea," Hermione interjected. "Make sure this young man doesn't get into trouble, Bellatrix. We'll see you in three days for follow-up tests."

"Follow-up tests?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "I'll need to conduct a thorough examination of your entire body before I allow you to resume work, young man."

Bellatrix agreed, saying, "Excellent idea, healer! Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," Hermione replied. She looked at him and smiled devilishly. "Really. See you soon, Harry."

"More tea, darling?"

"No, thank you," he tried to protest, but Bellatrix filled his cup anyway. She tied her long black hair into a bun, revealing her slender neck.

Bellatrix's home was cozy and small, filled with trinkets in every nook and cranny. It was perched on a hill overlooking the city, with a breathtaking view.

He stretched out on the couch, and she placed a damp cloth on his forehead. "This is all my fault," she muttered. "I wanted to show you all of Hogsmeade, but I should have known you needed rest after a long journey."

"Really, it's okay," he protested. "I feel terrible. I didn't mean to be a burden."

She grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. "A burden? You're not a burden, Harry! You're moving to our town to reopen the bar - if anything, our town owes you a debt! At least this much I can do for you. In Hogsmeade, we take care of each other, so that's what I'll do. I don't want any more apologies from you, young man. Is that understood?"

"Yes, please," he said with a chuckle. "I understood loud and clear."

"Fortunately, Hermione could see you right away. We're blessed to have such a wonderful healer in our small town."

True. A good healer. His mind returned to the examination.

He never thought it would be this hard in his entire life. He would never look at medical gloves the same way again. And she wanted to meet with him again in three days... "What's her story?" he asked. "We didn't talk much."

"Hermione moved here about three years ago. Before she came to Hogsmeade, the nearest healer was over two hours away, and with the worldwide ban on teleportation, getting to him became quite problematic! As I mentioned, we're lucky to have her here. More tea?"

"No, thank you, really," he replied. "By the way, what time is it?"

"It's a quarter past five."

"Oh, darn it. Daphne."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "What about Daphne?"

"I was supposed to meet her in front of the café at five."

Bellatrix shook her head. "I'll send her a text saying you won't make it."

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the wonderful scents of English cuisine filling the small house. He managed to doze off for a moment, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself face to face with the lovely girl with pink hair, practically pressed against him.

Harry screamed and jumped up.

Daphne burst into laughter. She had changed out of her work clothes and was now wearing a pastel crop top that showcased her flat stomach. In fact, it was so short that it revealed the lower part of her ample breasts.

"You screamed!"

"Of course, I screamed, bloody hell," Harry exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Daphne playfully poked his nose with one well-manicured finger. "I live here, you idiot. Bellatrix told me you passed out—true?"

"Passing out is a strong word. You live here?"

"Yes, you idiot. And fainting is also correct, Frenchy. It looks like you can't handle the heat. So much for our hot date. And to think I had such plans for you..."

"Be nice to our guest," Bellatrix called from the kitchen. "He'll be staying with us for a few days while he recovers."

A mischievous smile appeared on Daphne's face. Harry wasn't sure whether he should be excited or scared about what was going on in her wicked mind.

"Interesting," Daphne said. "Very interesting."

"Help me set the table, dear."

Daphne got up, and from Harry's vantage point, he could easily see her short top. Her ample breasts practically hung out. Was this modern English fashion? He must have missed that memo, but he certainly wasn't complaining.