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The Wizard and The Witch Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2025-04-05 22:54:31 +0000 UTCThe ocean’s waves crashed against the beach as Wanda’s steps left footfalls in the sand. Her dress was blowing around her ankles, and her hair kept getting in her eyes, but she didn’t mind. It was peaceful. When was the last time she felt so at peace?
She was tempted to say Westview, but that wasn’t true. Deep down, she’d known something was strange, even as the town lived out that sitcom inspired lie she crafted. The cracks had shown from the very beginning. No, the last time she truly felt relaxed had to be during her stay in Edinburgh.
Wanda stiffened, clenching her jaw. That had ended with a spear being plunged through her lover's stomach. It had been the beginning of the end.
She sighed now, allowing herself to relax. Kicking off her shoes and clutching them in her hand, she bathed her feet in the cold ocean water, kicking it about. A soft smile returned to her face. The past was sad, but she couldn’t dwell on it.
A sudden thought occurred to her as she stood there, toes dunked in chilly water. Ever since she arrived here, she hadn’t heard her children’s voices a single time. They PLAGUED her after she escaped Westview. As she flew, they pleaded and begged for her to save them. It had been unending.
So why couldn’t she hear them now? Hopefully, it was because it had been her own conjured hallucinations. If it had never been real, then staying here with Fleur and Harry allowed her to relax enough that the voices faded.
What if that was wrong, though? What if they were still out there… but she was just ignoring them? The idea made Wanda shiver.
She finished her walk, although no matter how long she extended it she couldn’t manage to feel as at peace again as she had been at the start. When she climbed back up the bluff via a small dirt trail, she returned to the cottage and discovered that company had already arrived.
She heard voices and laughter coming from the living room. Wanda entered to discover a bushy-haired woman around Harry’s age sitting on the couch with Fleur, while Harry sat in a chair off to the side. He was the first to notice her.
“Wanda!” he said. “This is the guest I mentioned. I’d like you to meet Hermione. She’s an old friend of ours. I met her at boarding school when we were only eleven.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Wanda said.
Hermione smiled, tucking a bit of bushy hair behind her ear. “Hello. Fleur was just telling me that they had a guest.”
“It wasn’t expected,” Wanda said. “However, they’ve been gracious enough to take care of me for a few nights. I’m truly grateful in ways I can’t express.”
“It’s nothing,” Harry said.
Hermione gave Wanda a knowing look. “He’s always been like this,” she said. “The way we first got close was because he saved me.”
“Saved you?” Wanda asked with a frown. “From what?”
Hermione was prepared to answer, but Harry did so first.
“We went to a boarding school in a very old castle,” he said. “It was beautiful, but the staff didn’t always pay enough attention to upkeep, so some places were a bit dangerous. Hermione wandered into one of those areas, and I got her to come back not long before a part of the ceiling collapsed.
“Oh my,” Wanda said. “What a dangerous school.”
Harry and Hermione shared a look. For some reason, Wanda felt as if she was still out of the loop about something. Were they being purposefully evasive?
“I didn’t see a car outside,” she said. “How did you get here, Hermione?”
“Oh! I walked.” Hermione laughed a little nervously. “It’s not as far as it seems.”
Wanda’s eyes dipped to her feet. She was wearing high heels.
Not only that, Hermione was wearing a button up dress shirt and a long skirt, both of which looked quite nice. She also looked nice in them. Looking at her more closely, the woman’s face had a clear girlish charm while her body was thin and thick in the right places: good thighs, thin waist, and a medium sized bust.
Wanda shook herself. Was she turning into some kind of pervert? Why was she sizing up the guests of her hosts?
“Hermione comes here for a chance to get away from it all,” Fleur said. “It helps her relax.”
“It’s the only thing that keeps me sane, really,” Hermione grumbled. “If I never came here, I definitely would’ve attacked a Department Head.”
“Do you work as a manager at some kind of company?” Wanda asked.
Hermione laughed again. “You could say that. But I’m THE manager. I have to pay attention to everything, all day long. When I can’t take it any more, I come here for a day. The… ocean does me good.”
“We’re her stress relief,” Fleur said matter of factly.
Oddly, Hermione blushed.
The conversation continued for a while, and Wanda discovered that Harry had been correct. She did get along with Hermione. The woman was intelligent, compassionate, and at times witty. The strangest thing about her was that she seemed to have a habit of biting her tongue. Each time she stuttered or paused, she would talk again a bit more hesitatingly, using terms she didn’t sound sure about herself.
Still, Wanda enjoyed their conversations in the living room and over dinner. There was an added benefit, though. Wanda really needed a good night’s sleep, and she clearly wasn’t going to get it with Fleur screaming like a banshee while Harry plowed her. With Hermione here, the couple should be keeping their hands off of each other.
An hour after dinner, after drinking a bit of wine with the others while the sky dimmed outside, Wanda set her glass aside and stood up. Her eyelids felt too heavy to hold up, so she excused to get ready for bed.
She could still hear them talking as she brushed her teeth. When she got to her bed, swapping her daytime clothes for a robe and underwear again, she was all too ready to sleep. She was out as soon as she lay down.
Some time later, she awoke needing the bathroom. As Wanda rose, rubbing her eyes, she saw it was dark outside. It had to be at least 1 in the morning. She stood up, stumbling to the bathroom and using it. By the time she was done she’d woken up a bit more… enough to notice something she should have before.
The house wasn’t filled with moans and screams, but there was a dull thumping. It sounded like it was coming from CLOSE, too.
Against her better judgement, Wanda crept forward. It was coming from the living room.
As soon as she peeked inside, Wanda bit her lip. They were crazy! There was Harry, naked from the waist down while his shirt was unbuttoned and askew. His back to her, but he was on his knees behind a woman, with his hands wrapped around her face to muffle her screams. Wanda couldn’t see Fleur from this position, but she could hear the brutal strikes of Harry’s crotch as he fucked her.
“That’s it,” Harry said. “I know you like that, dirty girl. You like the feeling of my dick tearing you open. You always have.”
Wanda’s legs had started to shake. She even considered that it might be because of shock waves emanating from Harry’s thrusts, but that wasn’t right. He wasn’t superhumanly strong. It just sounded that way watching him fuck.
She couldn’t help it. Despite all her resolve, Wanda began touching herself as she watched, her hand moving underneath her robes and panties.
Harry continued to mutter dirty things, using his hands to gag any moans. Wanda could see his nice butt flexing as he plowed forward repeatedly. Her folds became wetter the longer she watched and listened. If she could just take Fleur’s place…
Bad Wanda! Hadn’t she ruined enough lives in Westview? She wouldn’t break up an idyllic marriage now. No matter how good the sex on offer was. She owed Fleur that much—
Wanda’s jaw dropped. She forgot to masturbate, leaving her fingers buried but unmoving inside of her pussy. The living room had two entrances, one that Wanda was spying through and another that opened onto the kitchen. From the other entrance, someone had just walked in.
Fleur.
Harry’s wife was wearing a see through blue robe that clung to her curves. Undrerneath was a set of underwear that was much more for show than practicality. She arrived, and instead of getting angry merely smirked, crossing her arms.
But that mean that underneath Harry was—
Harry planted his hands on the back of his partner, forcing her down onto the ground flat on her stomach. In the process, they turned slightly, and Wanda could see it. She had bushy brown hair, an excellent ass, and much smaller breasts. Her skin was a deeper tan than Fleur’s paleness. Harry’s hand was still wrapped over her mouth, his middle finger stuck between her lips for her to suck on. Harry was fucking Hermione Granger, and he was doing it right IN FRONT of his wife.
Fleur smiled. “I love seeing you wreck her little arse.”
Harry spanked Hermione, making her moan and her cheeks jiggle.
“It’s a nice one,” he said. “Almost as nice as Ginny’s.”
“But Ginnerva never visits anymore!” Fleur said. “She ‘as become a profezzional Quideetch player and forgotten about us.”
“She promised to bring Gwenog Jones the next time she visited, though,” Harry said. “That has to count for something.”
“I believe eet when I see eet,” Fleur said haughtily. “If I am in ze mood to watch you tear apart a lovely bum, I will just invite Angelina. But for how, I will ‘ave to be satisfied with leetle ‘ermione!”
“However will you manage,” Harry asked.
As they talked he continued thrusting into Hermione. Wanda spotted something she hadn’t seen before: Hermione’s business clothes scattered on the floor, the buttons ripped off the shirt while the skirt had been ripped down the side. Harry had literally ripped Hermione out of her clothes and claimed her. And the way he and Fleur were talking? This wasn’t cheating. It wasn’t quite a polyamorous relationship, either. Hermione clearly wasn’t the only girl, yet Fleur was bringing them in like playthings for her husband to toy with.
Was that why they allowed her to stay? Was she going to be next?
Wanda felt like this should worry her. But instead, all she could feel was excited. Her fingers started moving again, and her pussy was now wetter than it had been before.
Fleur bent down, crouching in front of Hermione and stroking her face.
“‘Ave you been working hard?” she asked.
Harry pulled his fingers away so that Hermione could answer.
“Yessshhhh!” Hermione moaned.
“Good,” said Fleur. “Then take your reward.”
Harry’s hand was no longer holding Hermione’s moans in. She screamed as he sped up, fucking her so fast that Wanda could hear her ass clapping. Fleur went and sat on the couch, touching herself much the same way that Wanda was. Wanda’s fingers scraped deep inside her, all those crazy ideas about Harry fucking HER beginning to feel a lot less impossible. They even started to feel… realistic.
Harry grabbed a big bunch of Hermione’s brown curls and pulled until her head came up off the floor.
“Is that ‘ow ze two of you did eet in school?” Fleur asked, her legs spread as she touched herself. “Every night after class, did he pump you full of his cock, pouring his cum into you?”
Hermione was howling too loudly to answer. Wanda caught a glimpse of her face. She looked almost unconscious with pleasure, screaming with a wide smile while her eyes looked toward the ceiling.
“Mark ‘er!” Fleur commanded.
Harry sped up. Wanda had never seen someone fuck so fast in real life. Hermione’s shapely legs were sticking out straight on the floor, her toes curling. She must’ve cum dozens of times, and now it was Harry’s turn. He exploded inside of her, grunting and keeping his crotch pressed to hers for multiple seconds before pulling out. When he did, Wanda could see his cum dripping out of Hermione. He actually came inside? This was insane!
But as much as the rational part of her brain told her this shouldn't be happening, the instinctual part told her that this was HOT. Drawing in a sharp breath, Wanda came on her fingers, leaning on the door for support.
A second later, her heart stopped. Fleur was looking DIRECTLY at her.
Harry still had his back turned, but Fleur could see her. She inclined her head toward Harry, maybe even directly toward Harry’s dick. It was an invitation. There was no other way to describe it.
Wanda hesitated for a full ten seconds. But she remembered her messy past, and her promise not to interfere in these people’s lives. Even if those lives were much kinkier than she originally expected, she had to stand strong. She ducked out of the doorway and fled back to her room, unable to forget the sight of Hermione laid out dripping with Harry’s seed.
She made her choice. For now. But she’d be lying if she pretended she didn’t have regrets.
As she touched herself in bed on her back, moaning and using two hands, she really wasn’t sure how long she could hold out.
Or even if she should be.
