chapter 6

It was Harry's last day at Privet Drive, and the house was thick with the same stifling tension that had marked every summer he'd spent here. Harry knew his time with the Dursleys was finally coming to an end, and while he was eager to leave, he wasn't quite ready to give up the twisted pleasure he'd found with Petunia. She'd been an unexpected indulgence, eager and desperate in ways Harry hadn't anticipated but thoroughly enjoyed exploiting. Today, he intended to finish what he'd started.

Petunia was in the kitchen, her movements hurried and anxious as she half-heartedly cleaned, though Harry could see that her mind was far from the task. She'd been on edge all morning, the realization that Harry was leaving pressing heavily on her. The furtive glances she threw his way told him all he needed to know—she wanted him, needed him one last time. Harry stepped up behind her, his hands slipping around her waist, pulling her back against him.

Petunia stiffened for a moment, caught between propriety and the pull of her own needs, but she quickly melted into Harry's touch, her body betraying her. "You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" Harry murmured against her ear, his voice dripping with amusement as his hands roamed over her body, fingers brushing the curve of her waist. Petunia's breath hitched, her hands bracing against the counter as Harry's touch became bolder.

She nodded, her face flushing as Harry's hands slipped beneath her blouse, pushing it up to expose the soft skin of her stomach. His fingers traced upward, pulling her bra aside to cup her breasts, squeezing and kneading as Petunia moaned, her body arching back into him. Harry's grin widened, enjoying the way she responded, eager and pliant, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

"You'll miss this, won't you?" Harry teased, his voice low as his fingers slid down her stomach, hooking into the waistband of her skirt. Petunia's thighs parted instinctively, a soft whimper escaping her lips as Harry tugged her skirt up, exposing her bare thighs. He pushed her forward, pressing her against the counter, one hand sliding between her legs to feel the heat and wetness that was already there.

Petunia's moans grew louder, more desperate, as Harry's fingers teased her, sliding over her slick folds and rubbing slow circles around her clit. She was lost in the sensation, her hips rocking back against him, and Harry could feel the hunger radiating off her. He leaned in, his lips brushing her neck, nibbling lightly as his fingers worked her over.

"You like that, don't you?" Harry whispered, enjoying the way Petunia trembled beneath his touch. He slid his fingers lower, pushing into her slowly, feeling the tight warmth of her body clenching around him. Petunia gasped, her head falling back against Harry's shoulder, and he thrust his fingers deeper, his movements firm and deliberate. The wet sounds of his fingers moving inside her filled the kitchen, mingling with Petunia's breathless moans.

"Yes…" Petunia whimpered, her voice strained as she ground back against him. Harry's pace quickened, his fingers plunging into her, curling and twisting in rhythm with her desperate movements. He could feel her getting closer, her walls tightening around him, and Harry knew she was on the edge.

Harry pulled his fingers out abruptly, and Petunia let out a frustrated whine, her body aching for more. She looked back at him, her eyes glazed with need, and Harry smirked, reaching down to unzip his trousers. "I'm not done yet," he said, his voice thick with intent as he freed himself, his cock already hard and eager.

Petunia's eyes flicked down, widening slightly as she took in the sight of him. She hesitated, but only for a moment, before she turned back around, bending over the counter, her ass presented to him. Harry stepped forward, positioning himself behind her, his hand gripping her hip as he lined up. He nudged the head of his cock against her entrance, feeling the wet heat, and pushed in slowly, savoring the tight squeeze around him.

Petunia let out a sharp gasp, her fingers clenching the countertop as Harry filled her inch by inch. He thrust deeper, his pace slow at first, enjoying the way her body opened up to him. The kitchen was filled with the sound of their bodies meeting—soft, wet slaps and Petunia's breathy moans as Harry began to move faster, each thrust more forceful, more demanding.

"God… Harry…" Petunia moaned, her voice breaking as Harry's pace quickened. He slammed into her, his hips snapping forward, and the wet, rhythmic sounds grew louder, mingling with the sharp crack of his pelvis meeting her ass. Petunia's body rocked with each thrust, her back arching as Harry drove deeper, hitting the spot that made her toes curl.

Harry's hands roamed her body, squeezing her waist, sliding up to grab her breasts, kneading them roughly as he fucked her harder. Petunia's moans turned to frantic, breathless cries, her hips moving in time with Harry's, her body lost in the pleasure he was giving her. She reached back, grabbing his arm, her nails digging into his skin as she clung to him.

Harry grinned, his breath coming faster as he felt her walls flutter around him, her body shuddering as she neared her climax. He thrust into her with renewed vigor, his movements rough and unrelenting, each stroke pushing her closer to the edge. Petunia's breath hitched, her moans growing higher, more desperate, and Harry knew she was about to come.

She cried out, her body tensing as her orgasm crashed over her, her walls squeezing Harry's cock in rhythmic pulses. Harry kept thrusting, driving her through her release, the tight, wet heat pulling him closer to his own climax. He gripped her hips, slamming into her one last time as he spilled into her, his release flooding her with a shuddering groan.

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, Petunia's breath ragged as she leaned against the counter, her legs trembling. Harry pulled out slowly, tucking himself back into his trousers, watching as Petunia adjusted her clothes, her face still flushed and her eyes glazed with the aftermath of their reckless encounter. 

Harry smirked, enjoying the sight of her disheveled and satisfied, knowing this was how he was leaving her—craving, wanting more of what only he had been willing to give her.

A few hours later, Harry stood at King's Cross Station, the bustling crowds a blur around him as he waited, biding his time. He knew exactly where to go, how to get onto Platform 9¾, but he wasn't in any rush. He had watched the movies in his old life, knew this world's story, and knew exactly who he was waiting for.

It didn't take long for the Weasleys to arrive. Molly was at the front, ushering her children forward with a mix of warmth and bossiness that was unmistakably maternal. Harry approached, letting her spot him with a smile, her eyes lighting up with recognition. 

"Harry Potter!" Molly exclaimed, her voice bright and welcoming. She reached out, pulling him into a motherly hug, but Harry had other plans. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing close, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Molly stiffened at the unexpected intimacy, but Harry didn't let go, his lips brushing her skin as he sucked lightly, tasting the soft warmth of her.

Molly gasped, her hands clenching on his back as Harry's hips pressed against her, grinding slowly. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching, but she didn't pull away. She closed her eyes, biting her lip to stifle a soft, breathy moan as Harry's mouth continued its gentle assault on her neck. 

The heat of his body, the rare sensation of a man's touch, sent a thrill through Molly, something she hadn't felt in years. She leaned into him, savoring the brief moment of forbidden pleasure. Harry's hands slid down her back, squeezing her waist, his movements confident and deliberate.

"M-Mr. Potter…" Molly stammered, her voice unsteady, caught between propriety and the sudden rush of feeling. Harry finally pulled back, giving her a mischievous smile, his eyes lingering on her flushed cheeks.

"Thanks for showing me the way," Harry said, his tone smooth as he stepped back. Molly's face was red, a mix of flustered embarrassment and lingering desire, and she quickly busied herself with her children, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

Harry turned away, heading toward the barrier with a swagger in his step. As he crossed onto Platform 9¾ and boarded the Hogwarts Express, he found a compartment to himself and settled in, pulling out a potions book to pass the time. But his mind wasn't on his studies. He was thinking of the opportunities that lay ahead, the witches he would meet, and all the ways he could bend this world to his will. 

The wizarding world had no idea what was coming, but Harry Potter, with his rare, unquenchable desires, was ready to make his mark.

I am sorry to announce to everyone that an entire chapter went missing. I repeat an entire chapter went missing between chapter 5 and 6

That chapter would have went like this. Harry went into train started reading up for potions ron enters and they talk about random stuff before the trolley lady comes in Harry explores her body infront of Ron but once she leaves Ron asks Harry why he was touching her like that. Harry says because he likes it. Ron shrugs making Harry understand that this shit is bussing. Hermione comes in next and he leaves with her to search for the frog. No Draco confrontation happens.