Harry was sipping his morning tea when the Ministry owl swooped through the window — left open for just this kind of correspondence — and shed a letter into his lap.
The envelope flitted from side to side, wafting until it landed on the bobbing head of Luna Lovegood. Luna looked up at it, crossing her eyes in the process, and decided it was as good a hat as any. She deepthroated Harry with a sopping gag, allowing him to delicately lift the letter from atop her head.
While Luna plunged her head down for his pleasure, Harry tore open the envelope. He unfurled the letter and held it in one hand, running his other hand along Luna's neck to show his appreciation for his efforts. Harry read the letter.
Then he read it twice, certain that he had misunderstood something.
"That's a new expression. Has Luna discovered a new trick again?"
Ginny Weasley arrived for breakfast. Her fiery red hair was a bit matted from old sweat, while her neck had bite marks from the night before. She smiled at Harry, perfectly aware of who was choking underneath the table.
"Luna's lovely," Harry said. "But she's not the reason… Gin, I think they've made a mistake."
"What kind?"
He looked at his wife. "They're transferring me."
Ginny's jaw dropped. She almost lost the knife she'd been using to spread butter across fresh toast. Besides the shock, when she looked at Harry he spotted a glimmer of excitement.
"Seriously? Where to?" she asked.
"Some new department. I can't make heads or tails of it. Here, take a look."
Harry levitated the letter across the table to Ginny. With both of his hands free, he gathered up Luna's hair into a ponytail with his fists acting as the hairband. She kissed his crotch and looked up at him, her eyes still crossed. Harry felt her tongue sliding along him inside of her mouth.
"Department of Housewife Health and Happiness? Well, I can promise they've got the man for the job." Ginny smirked as she laid the letter on the table, using her hands to eat while she read. "Jokes aside, are you sure this isn't a prank? It sounds… not real."
"That's Kingsley's handwriting. I know it by heart."
"I guess we'll learn if it's fake soon enough. It says to be at the Ministry in twenty minutes." Ginny smirked. "Hear that, Luna? We're in a hurry this morning."
Harry planted the hand he had been holding her hair with on the back of her head. She looked up at him, only his tip left between her thin lips.
"I know Luna can handle it if we speed things up," Harry said. "Right?"
Luna nodded. The motion slid her lips on Harry's cock— until Harry shoved her all the way down.
She held onto the corners of Harry's chair seat. Each gag was fiercer than the one before it, Harry's cock getting slobberier with every repetition. Luna shut her eyes. Ginny moved around the table, changing seats for a show to go with her breakfast.
"Urp?" Luna gagged.
Cum shot out her nose. Luna rolled her petite shoulders as she forcibly gulped down what she had been fed. Removing her head from Harry's cock, she panted, showing that the inside of her mouth was clean of cum.
Harry's hand went back to petting her. Luna smiled dreamily.
"Your cum has as lovely a concentration of Wrackspurts as ever," she informed him.
"I'm glad to hear it," Harry said. "I'll be relying on you, Luna, to catch it if that ever changes."
"Oh, what a responsibility. That will require monthly check-ups at least."
"That can be arranged," Ginny said. She had finished her toast, and was licking the crumbs off of her hands in a somewhat suggestive style. "We've got plenty of free nights to catch up with such an old friend. Especially if Harry really is being transferred."
"Whatever 'Housewife Health and Satisfaction' is, it can't keep me as busy as being Head Auror," Harry said.
Little did any of them know.
O-O-O
By the time they arrived at the Ministry, no one could have guessed what Harry and Ginny had been up to less than half an hour prior.
They'd scoured their bodies with magic. Ginny used charms to hide the bite marks along her neck and inject a flush into her pale cheeks. Both of them had switched to designer robes. Even if he was an old friend, meeting with the Minister required a certain level of decorum.
They walked with their arms linked, drawing looks from everyone they passed.
"You'd think that they would be used to seeing me around here," Harry remarked.
"I guess they can't get enough of your good looks," Ginny said. "Personally, I think it's those eyes. I don't blame them for looking."
"Of course you don't. Showing me off is your favorite hobby."
"It's not a hobby," Ginny informed him. "It's a lifestyle."
They climbed through the levels of the Ministry until they reached the waiting room outside the Minister's office. Two people were already there.
"Ron! You're mixed up in this too?"
"I don't understand it," Ron said, "but I got a letter telling me I was being transferred. Something and somesuch about a new department?"
"The Department of Housewife Health and Happiness," Hermione said. "Frankly, I think it sounds like nonsense."
"But fun nonsense," Ginny said. "It seems interesting."
"You're not the one that'll be working in it," Ron said.
"Duh," Ginny said. "That doesn't mean I can't enjoy it."
"What's that mean?"
Before Harry had to consider how to avoid telling Ron one of his sister's kinks, the door to Kingsley's office was thrown open.
"Come in," said Lisa Turpin, Kingsley's primary aide. "The Minister will see you now."
"Lisa? Are you feeling alright?" Ginny asked.
Lisa's brown hair was bedraggled and pressed down in odd places, like she'd spent the last week sleeping on the floor. Her glasses were slightly crooked. Worst of all, red lines ran through the whites of her eyes.
"Perfectly fine," Lisa said. "Why do you ask?"
"...no reason."
"Come in, then," Lisa said. "There's no time to waste."
Kingsley's office had been prepared to receive them. Four chairs had been laid out, and his desk had four cups of tea. A rolled-up poster was attached to the wall that Harry had never seen before. Kingsley only looked slightly better than Lisa did. He had bags under his eyes twice as dark as his brown skin.
"Harry. Ron. Ginny. Hermione. Welcome!" He spread his hands, offering a smile to go with the tea. "We have a lot to talk about, so sit down."
They did as directed. All of them were curious about where this was going. Lisa went to stand behind her boss, while Kingsley steepled his fingers.
"You must have gotten my letters," he said. "It's true. All of it is true. Starting today, effective immediately, the two of you are going to be transferred to a department that can make better use of your skills."
"Harry is the best Head Auror there's ever been, and you're saying something else is a better fit?" Ginny asked.
"Believe me, I'm more aware than anyone that I'll be losing my best two Aurors," Kingsley said. "But we're living in times of peace. The threats that arise now aren't the kind that will go away with a duel."
"Something's happened," Hermione said. "What is it?"
Kingsley and Lisa shared a look. The aide cleared her throat and took over the explanation. She lifted her glasses with two fingers, fixing their alignment on her face.
"The wizarding world's finances still operate on some very old, somewhat disadvantageous treaties with the goblins at Gringotts. It was one of the concessions of a rebellion in the past. In short, if a vault has been held within the same family for three generations or more, and there is no heir to receive it when the previous head dies, all the wealth contained within the vault is ceded to the goblins."
"No way," Harry said. "But I inherited the Black vault!"
"Through Sirius," Kingsley said. "You were his godson. The wizarding world takes such relationships very seriously. It's viewed as a true form of family, meaning you were a suitable heir. If not for that, the vault would have gone to Bellatrix or Narcissa."
"Exactly," Lisa said. "It's not as simple as naming just anyone the heir. Ancient and Noble families possess approximately seventy-percent of the Galleons in this country, fortunes that have been passed down and added to for countless generations."
Ginny crossed her arms. "So what's the problem? I'm not seeing where this 'threat' is yet."
"You mentioned the old treaties and the importance of heirs." Harry could see Hermione's mind racing. "If the Goblins are allowed to claim that much of the economy, they'll hoard it. That's their nature. So if there's a danger to the nation, it could only be that the old families aren't producing heirs."
Kingsley stared at her. He quickly laughed.
"Right!" he said. "Exactly right, Hermione! At the moment, birth rates among the oldest families are at an unprecedented low. Many were killed off in the war, following their foul master to the grave, and the ones who are left are not — as you might say — picking up the slack."
"So… where do Harry and I come in?" Ron said. "And what's that special talent of ours that's supposed to be put to use?"
It was Lisa who answered the question… indirectly.
She grabbed the cord on the rolled-up poster behind Kingsley's desk and yanked it down. One word was written on it in enormous, bold text—
Breeding.
"Need I explain more?" Lisa said.
Harry rubbed his face with one hand while lifting the other in a 'slow down' motion. "Hold on. Instead of explaining more, why don't you try explaining anything?"
Lisa sighed heavily.
"I'll put it into words then," she said. "If I must. You and Ronald here are the most desirable catches among our generation. You're famous, powerful, well-endowed, and sexually skilled. Based on the rumors I've heard in the past, even I would let you run wild inside of my vagina—"
"I know we're both a bit short on sleep, but perhaps use a few less words than that," Kingsley said.
"She was just getting to the good part," Ginny mumbled.
"Yes, Sir." Lisa wasn't even blushing. "Purebloods are not having children. The men lack all the aforementioned qualities that Harry and Ron possess, ergo their wives are unwilling to sleep with their husbands. I can't fault their logic. However, if there are no heirs to any of the major families, society will collapse."
"I don't have this wrong, do I?" Harry said. "You're telling us to knock up other men's wives."
"Do they really count as wives when they won't go near their husband?" Lisa asked. "Many of them are not even living in the same manors anymore. Frankly, this work should be nothing new to you."
Harry developed a cough that temporarily took him out of the conversation.
"You researched us, huh?" Ginny's said.
Lisa tilted her glasses, even though there was no need to fix their alignment. "I observed your antics quite thoroughly. As a matter of research, of course."
"What'd you think?"
"Fucking hot," Lisa reported.
"If we could stay on topic," Kingsley said in a strained voice.
"I assume that Ginny and I are here to grant our permission for this… operation?" You could hear Hermione pause, searching for the right word.
"That's correct," Kingsley said. "Lisa and I have judged this to be the optimal approach to combat the crisis. But I refuse to do anything that will trample on your marriages or personal lives. You've given our country too much to deserve that kind of treatment. If you aren't comfortable with this, we'll find another way."
"I'm game," Ginny said. "I just have one demand."
Kingsley looked at her intently, ready to negotiate. "What do you have in mind?"
"I want it all to be recorded," Ginny said. "Full color, full volume, nothing left out. And I want access to those recordings."
She paused, then jabbed a finger at her brother.
"But if this dumbass is in it anywhere, don't send the recording anywhere near me."
Ron exhaled. "Thank Merlin. I thought you'd gone mental! Y'know, more than you already were…"
Ginny went for her wand. Harry grabbed her wrist before she could, averting a messy duel. Kingsley nodded gratefully to him.
"We can comply with that demand, Ginny. I'm sure the Unspeakables could design such a technology without much trouble." He shifted his gaze. "Hermione?"
She looked thoughtful, but not for very long.
"It could be useful for Ron to let off some of his insatiable libido," she admitted. "I might be able to enjoy our days off a bit more. As long as this work doesn't take all his energy."
Her voice dipped, and her eyes got hard. Kingsley, a veteran auror who had faced down Death Eaters dozens of times during the war, flinched like a first year in front of Filch.
"Never!" he swore, possibly for his own safety.
"Alright then." Hermione was back to normal. "We have a deal."
Instead of speaking to Kingsley, Ron looked at Harry.
"Are we really doing this, mate?" he asked in a quiet tone.
Harry shrugged, but in a way that said why not?
"It sounds fun," he whispered back.
"...True," Ron admitted.
"And I never want to see another paperwork form for the rest of my life."
Suddenly, Ron was sold.
"True," he said, any doubts erased.
"We're in," Harry said, even though Kingsley never asked them directly.
The Minister sighed in relief.
"Goodness. You have no idea what a weight this is off of my shoulders," Kingsley said. "And now that everyone's on board— It's time to get to work."
"So soon?!" Harry said.
"Right now?!" Ron exclaimed at the same time.
"There's no time to waste," Kingsley said. "Lisa!"
His aide snapped to attention. She reached deep into her pocket and lifted out a bottlecap, tossing the mundane item to Harry. There was only one thing it could be. A Portkey.
"We will be relying on word of mouth to spread news about the new department's services," Lisa said. "Everything will work better if you are approached first. In order to get things started, we've orchestrated an initial job. Since time is of the essence, there's no reason to delay."
"You're seriously sending us off just like that?" Harry asked.
"We have faith in your abilities," Kingsley said.
"Plus the clients have been bitching at me through the Floo for the last week that we were taking too long," Lisa said. She shifted her glasses again, which seemed to be a habit. "Do me a favor. Be rough."
"When does this thing go off?" Ron asked, placing a precautionary finger on the bottlecap Harry was holding so he wouldn't be left behind.
"It isn't time-based," Lisa said. "Whenever you're ready, speak the activation word. It's humbling."
"That's an odd phrase to choose," Hermione remarked. "Is there some meaning behind it?"
"Yes," Lisa said. "It's what those two bi— clients are in desperate need of."
Ron looked at Harry. "Are you ready mate?"
Harry thought about it. His head was still reeling, frankly, by the direction things had taken. He was supposed to, what, go off and have sex? And get paid for it? And his wife was excited by the idea?
What was he supposed to be thinking about again?
"Born ready," he said. "Humbling!"
The last thing he saw inside the Minister's office was his wife saddling up to Lisa, sliding an arm over her shoulder, and extending an invitation to a 'dinner' with them in the future. Then, he was being dragged across Britain like a fish on hook and line.
O-O-O
Harry and Ron showed up on a hill overlooking a body of water. The sun reflected in the water's glossy surface. In front of them, an ornate manor stood tall with a perfect view of the gorgeous scenery.
"This is the Lakes District," Ron said. "Hermione and I came here for our honeymoon. I recognize the mountains."
"And I guess that's the home of our clients." Harry inclined his head toward the manor in front of them, on which's lawn they'd appeared. "Well? Let's introduce ourselves, before they have time to piss Lisa off any more than they already have."
The front path was made of seashells. They crunched under Harry and Ron's boots, breaking beneath their weight, but were enchanted to fix themselves in your wake.
"Neat," Ron said. "Pretentious as hell. But neat."
"I guess all those Galleons they're hoarding have to go somewhere," Harry said.
They got to the front door and Harry used the knocker, sending three resounding thumps into the home.
He expected a house elf to lead them inside. That was par for the course, with these kinds of families. Harry wondered which family lived here— Kingsley and Lisa never mentioned who they were visiting. Though they would find out soon enough now.
"Oh. Hello! Did the Ministry send you?"
Instead of an elf, a woman with dirty blond hair opened the door. Twice the age of Harry and Ron, her face had a sprinkling of minor wrinkles, so slight that they were hard to see. It didn't take away from her beauty. She smiled at them with a surprisingly genuine expression.
Harry cleared his throat. "That's right. We're representatives of the DHHH. I'm Inspector Potter, and my colleague here is Inspector Weasley. We're responding to a call?"
"That's right. My d-daughters mentioned something like this. Come in."
The woman retreated, leading them into her home. Harry caught the strange hesitation when she mentioned her daughters, but he couldn't guess why it existed. Ron was no help either. His partner hadn't even noticed.
"What's your name?" Harry asked.
"I'm Anastacia," the woman said. "It's nice to meet you both. My daughters are upstairs—"
"We're here!"
Beyond the front door, a set of steps led sharply up to the second floor. On the landing near the top, two young women had appeared. When he looked up at them, Harry couldn't help whistling softly.
On the left was a petite brunette with beautiful, aristocratic features. She had a strong resemblance to Anastacia, except her blue eyes were nothing but frigid. She was wearing a dress that gripped her body, her perky breasts standing out in sharp detail. Her hands were on her hips as she literally looked down on Harry and Ron.
On the right was a girl with golden-blond hair. She had barely bothered to brush it, and she wasn't wearing any makeup. That did little to dull her beauty. Not only was her face nearly perfect, her body was thicker in all the right places than her sister. She wore a bathrobe that hadn't even been fashioned properly, her pale collarbone jutting out, along with a stunning amount of cleavage on her left breast. Her arms were crossed, propping up her knockers while she looked at the guests with as much disdain as her sister.
"Seriously?" said Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy. "You?"
Daphne Greengrass-Nott sighed. "I suppose this is my fault. I should never have expected the Ministry to do a job right."
Harry smiled, his lips tight and his eyes closed. "Hello, dear clients! What seems to be your problem?"