Trinity Potter and the Irish Mafia

Chapter 1: Drunk Mistake or Miracle?

   "Ron, I ever tell you how much you meaned to me?" Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, drunkenly slurs, slinging an arm around Ronald Weasley.

   Ron laughs and says "Neville, I think it's time for Mr. Celebrity here to go home. Someone can't hold their fire whiskey." Neville smirks and agrees, grabbing a small dose of Pepper-up potion and telling Harry to drink.

   "God my head. Thanks, mate. I'm gonna go sleep this off." Harry says, apparating away, but his mind is still a little drunk, so he ends up in a random Muggle neighborhood in Ireland. He stumbles around for a bit, bored. The other guys wouldn't let him get a stripper because "it's immoral in the wizarding world", according to Ron. Maybe there's a strip club here, in this little Irish town.

   Thankfully, it's Ireland, and one of their many pillars of life is beer, so Harry finds a pub fairly quickly. He walks in and sits at the bar by the bartender.

   "What can I git ya?" The bartender says, washing out a glass.

   Harry smiles lazily and slurs out "Whiskey. Best ya got." He nods his head when the bartender grabs a bottle of whiskey, pouring it into a glass with a couple of ice cubes. Harry sips it quietly, the Pepper-up Potion already having lost its effects. He sits there until a woman walks up to the bar next to him.

   "Yer usual then, Mary?" The bartender asks her, setting a glass down.

   She smiles and says "Aye. Add a wee bit more than nermal would ya. I's been a day."

   The bartender smiles and pours her a large glass of beer, adding a little bit of whiskey. "Kyle givin' ya trouble again, is he?" The bartender says, leaning back and cleaning another glass.

   Mary takes a long sip before speaking. "Aye. Acts like his mother didn't tell me ta beat him if he misbehaved. Kids these days, Pat."

   Harry takes another sip of his drink, watching the scene quietly. When he empties the glass, he says "Can I g-get 'nother one?"

   Mary looks over at him and says "Honey, I don' think ya need anymore. Yer fallin' over yerself. Let me take ya back ta my place, and ya can sleep it off."

   "B-but i's my last night of true freedom. Gettin' hitched tomorrow. Gotta celebrate. You guys got a strip club 'round here?" Harry explains drunkenly, turning his glass upside down only to find it empty.

   "I see. No, we haven't got any strip clubs, but, if ya want we can have some fun at my place. That sound good?" Mary says, chugging the rest of her drink, standing up. She pulls Harry up with her and tells Pat to put Harry's on her tab.

   "Have fun, Mary. Bu' not too much." Pat says as they leave.

   "I'm Harry. Wha's your n-name? You're pretty. Your hair reminds me of my fiancee's." Harry says with a laugh.

   "I'm glad. It'll be easier fer ya to forget who I am. But if ya must know, I'm Mary, O'Doherty." Mary says, leading Harry along the path to her house. They enter her quaint, one-story home, and Harry lets Mary lead him to the bedroom.

   "Alrigh' Harry. I'm going to lay on the bed, and ya can have as much fun as ya want. I'm infertile, so ya can't get me pregnant. Okay?" Mary says, removing her shirt, skirt, bra and panties. After she's naked, she lays down on the bed, spreading her legs for Harry.

   "Wow. You look like my Gin too. So pretty." Harry says, slowly fumbling with his own clothing, finally getting it all off. He climbs onto the bed, and they have several rounds of sex, finally falling asleep.

   When Harry wakes up, he groans at the headache and soreness in his dick. He looks at his surroundings, and when he sees the red-headed Irish woman from last night, it comes rushing back to him.