Harry slept like a rock for a full twelve hours from early evening straight through to morning. When he woke up, Madam Pomfrey's treatments had done their work. He stood up and stretched his arms. His core felt as good as new.
"Not bad for coming out of a fight like that," he said.
It was still a mystery where the Chimaera had come from. Logic dictated Voldemort, if only on the basis of the magic used. Inferi were a trademark of his, and few could slay a live Chimaera just to use as a prop.
Still, Harry wasn't ready to assume anything. It was possible that a third player was involved. If you ruled out unlikely possibilities too quickly, you could end up missing something crucial. It was a mystery he would need to investigate further.
But first, it was time to catch up on grading.
He scored assignments until it was time for breakfast. His Monday schedule consisted of teaching the younger years— first, second, and third. After dinner it was back to his desk to work through more assignments. He didn't get very far in the stack before someone entered his office.
"Headmaster?" Harry asked. "What brings you here?"
"Just a handful of errands," Dumbledore said. "I won't take much of your time. Instructors have little enough of it as it is."
His eyes twinkled while Harry nodded tiredly. The undead Chimaera was one thing, but Harry was starting to realize he'd been thrust into a more insidious trap: making up for missing a day and a half of work.
"I've got my hands full," Harry admitted.
"Too full to offer a student private lessons?"
"Definitely not."
"In that case I have sent a message to Neville. He'll be paying you a visit this Wednesday to begin his Occlumency training."
"Perfect!" Harry said. "I'll make sure I have the time free."
He had already been thinking how to go about it. Harry's Occlumency was almost on the level of a master, but he'd never taught it before, unless you counted giving junior Aurors tips. It would be a new experience training a student. All the same, he had no doubt that he would blow Snape out of the water. It still irritated him whenever he thought about the mental assaults Snape dressed up as 'teaching'.
"Before I go, I have something to return to you," Dumbledore said.
He reached into his pocket and came out with a black gem. Dumbledore set the Resurrection Stone down in the middle of Harry's desk and stepped back. Harry looked at it, then at him.
"Did you use it?" Harry asked.
"I did not!" Dumbledore said, smiling.
"It's not cursed anymore," Harry said. "It won't kill you. If you want to—"
"Of course I want to, Harry." Dumbledore continued smiling. "I want it desperately. More regrets weigh upon my shoulders than I can count. But they have not dulled my mind quite yet. You think that using it would be a mistake."
"I never said that," Harry said carefully.
"No, you held yourself back admirably. All the same, I saw it. You wanted to warn me that it would not give me what I seek. That, I can only hope to find when my time has finally come to leave this world. My sorrow would only be magnified by facing her echo."
Dumbledore recognized that Harry knew his story. They were both aware of who he would call. Even though Harry refrained from warning him, Dumbledore understood it anyway. The dead had no place among the living. Like Cadmus Peverell learned firsthand, fighting nature never worked.
"You made the right choice," Harry said.
"I believe so too," Dumbledore said. "That's why I'm giving the stone back now. Before I can make a different one."
The cheerfulness in his voice sounded forced. He was scared, Harry realized. Only one thing ever frightened Albus Dumbledore. What he himself could be capable of.
Harry took the ring off the table. Dumbledore's shoulders instantly relaxed.
"It's time that I bid you good night," he said. "Have a pleasant evening, Professor Potter. I will see you tomorrow."
Harry watched him leave. The headmaster was one of the tallest men Harry had ever known. But tonight, watching his silhouette leave the room, he looked unusually small. Perhaps it was the way his shoulders were slouching.
"You did well, Albus," Harry murmured, even though Dumbledore could no longer hear him.
He returned to his work and finished another three essays before his office was entered again. They were getting close to curfew so it wasn't likely to be a student. Sure enough, he looked up to find Professor Vector in front of his desk.
"Busy night?" she asked.
"I want to say yes, but I've had an awful lot like this recently," Harry said. He set down his quill and smiled at her. "Were you here for something?"
"Just a visit," Septima said.
She took the seat that Harry kept open for students, glancing around the room.
"This place is a bit bare. Knowing you, I thought it would be bursting with Muggle baubles."
"I haven't really had time to decorate," Harry said. "Besides, my stay is temporary. After this year I reckon Professor Burbage will be back."
"I forget that you were hired as a replacement," Septima said. "This school is going to feel boring if you do go."
"Really?" Harry asked.
"I know that I would miss you."
"Please, Professor Vector. You're going to make me blush!"
Septima rolled her eyes. "You're so cheeky. It's only at times like this that you don't use my name."
"Do you prefer it when I call you Septima?"
She shivered as her name passed his lips. "Yes."
"I get the feeling you aren't here just to chat," Harry said.
Septima glanced at the graded papers on his desk. "...How close are you to finishing?"
Harry sighed… and smirked. "Close enough to take a break."
Septima popped to her feet and skirted the desk, dropping into his lap. Harry's chair creaked under their combined weight. She sat sideways to his body, her feet going over the armrest, and kissed him on the lips. Harry flicked his wand, shutting and locking the door. Finished, he dropped his wand on the table and put his hands on Septima's back.
His coworker's body was endowed and stocky, dissimilar to Marlene in shape if not stature. Harry ran his hands along her robes, ruffling them, stroking the skin underneath.
As she got excited Septima's body moved unconsciously. She pulled at his loose collar and looped her hands around his neck. Harry's hands drifted lower to reach her bum. Septima giggled.
Just as they were getting into it, someone pounded on the door.
Their lips separated. Septima kissed Harry's neck while he answered.
"I'm a bit busy!"
"An instructor should never be too busy for his colleagues," was the sweet-voiced reply.
"Umbridge?" Harry mumbled. "What's she doing here?"
Septima sunk her teeth into the side of his neck, marking his skin with a purple patch. Harry said, "Can it wait until tomorrow, Professor Umbridge?"
"The High Inquisitor has as busy a schedule as anyone. Shirking responsibilities for convenience is a poor habit to keep."
Septima popped her lips off Harry's neck. She was smiling. "Let her in."
"What?"
Septima giggled. "Just do it."
Harry leaned forward and snagged his wand. As he undid the locking charm on the door, Septima got off of him. Instead of going back to her seat, she ducked under the desk. Harry's eyes widened.
"Finally. You made the right choice, Professor Potter," Umbridge said, marching into his office. "It's time we had a talk."
"...Right," Harry said, his eyes darting from his guest to his desk.
Between his legs, Septima was huddled out of view of Umbridge. She bit Harry's pants above the button and yanked, using her teeth to pop his fly. If Harry had been drinking, he would've spat out his last sip.
"You're in tricky territory, mister," Umbridge said. She giggled— she'd been doing that more in Harry's presence since word of her mother got out. Her fake pleasantries got thicker the more she disliked the person she was dealing with. "Probation is serious business. You might just set a record for the fastest firing of any professor!"
"I'm sure at least one of the Defense professors was quicker," Harry said. "You know, since they never last."
He didn't mean it as a threat. Really, he was just distracted by the way Septima was pulling his boxers down with her teeth. His dick was painfully erect by the time it flopped out, bouncing against her cheek. She wrapped her hands around him and put her lips on his tip, sinking her head.
Meanwhile, Umbridge stood up straighter. "Hogwarts' terrible professor retention rates speak of Dumbledore's poor recruitment. But that is besides the point. Your job is in grave danger."
She giggled again, which was more insulting than if she had sneered at him.
"Maybe it is." Harry shrugged. "Not much I can do about that."
Septima paused halfway down his shaft. She didn't dare go deeper for fear of gagging. Spit dribbled from under her locked lips, which she used to twist her hands around Harry's lower regions. Her mouth focused on his upper half, suctioning as tightly as she could without creating undo noise.
"But that's where you're wrong. There is something you can do, Mr. Potter. Something that may even save your job."
"Teach?" Harry suggested.
"I think that we've seen your inabilities in that department. Your efforts would be much better directed elsewhere. Like increasing your favorability with others. I don't know if you've noticed, but you're an extremely unpopular figure."
"Am I?"
He couldn't help looking down, where Septima had shut her eyes to relish his taste. She took her hands off of him for a moment to pull her robes down, going topless. Her bra hit the floor, letting her large breasts hang loose. The corners of her lips were turned up in a smile every time she felt his manhood twitch.
"Dreadfully unpopular," Umbridge said. "Troublemakers among the students adore you because, I hate to say it, they can walk all over you. Take those dastardly twins from Gryffindor, or Neville Longbottom and his gang of dissidents. Exemplary students like Draco Malfoy don't have a good word about you."
"I can live with that," Harry said. "Students are welcome to their opinions."
Umbridge offered yet another giggle. "A professor's job is to shape young people's minds. Such a neglectful approach might make another mark on your probationary record."
"I'd argue that our job is to teach them. What they do with the knowledge we deliver is up to them."
Septima nodded her agreement, proving that she was listening to the conversation despite her actions. It felt strange to Harry since the motion bumped her throat against his tip. He barely kept from pulling a funny face.
"As I thought, you simply have too much to learn." Umbridge shook her head. "I've done my best to help you, but you seem determined to go down the wrong path. There's only one option left for you."
"Increasing my favorability?" Harry asked.
"Precisely!"
"And what, exactly, would that involve?"
Septima took her mouth off of him and ran her tongue along the circumference of his swollen cockhead. Her hands started moving vertically in addition to their twisting. She looked delighted with the risk they were taking.
"I have it on good authority that one of those troublemakers who's so fond of you is circumventing my authority," Umbridge declared. "He is spreading radical ideas among other students… with the aim of revolt! This situation is of paramount importance. It transcends simple teaching or probationary periods, threatening the sanctity of the wonderful British Ministry of Magic. Naturally, contributions to the prevention of such a catastrophe will be very strongly weighted in staff evaluations."
Her eyebrows, each as thick as a wooly caterpillar, bobbed, as if her implication hadn't been obvious enough.
"Would students really do that?" Harry asked.
"You can't think of them as students. They're terrible examples of wizards— as greedy and covetous as goblins!" Umbridge said. "There's no length they wouldn't go to. They see a future where Dumbledore is given charge of the entire country. Just look at the lies they've spread about the Dark Lord somehow rising from the grave. They give wizardkind a bad name."
She squinted at Harry, obviously thinking of the many ways he, too, besmirched wizard kind with his Muggle coat and lack of magical pride.
Maybe that would have offended Harry in other circumstances, but he was having trouble even looking at Umbridge. Septima was working him hard. He was in danger of blowing a load across her face any second. For once, looking at Umbridge was actually coming in handy! There was no bigger turn-off than her toadlike face, helping him last longer through his colleague's blowjob.
"Th-This sounds pretty serious," Harry said. "I don't know if it's something someone like me could handle."
"Of course you wouldn't be handling it alone. That would be silly. From my observations it's clear that the Longbottom boy seems to trust you." Umbridge smiled. "All I'm suggesting is that you use that for the good of your country."
Harry didn't answer. He shut his eyes as Septima tugged at him hard, her lips putting him on the cusp of an orgasm. To Umbridge it seemed like he was thinking it over.
"Wait for him to confide in you, and when he does, come to me," she said. "Not only will your job be saved, you'll have done a great service to your country."
Septima grew bold as her work came to fruition. She dove down Harry's shaft, going further than she had before. A slight gurgle escaped her throat but Umbridge didn't catch it.
"I'll think about it!" Harry squawked.
"Well then," Umbridge said. "I look forward to hearing from you."
She waddled victoriously from the room. The instant she was gone Harry grabbed his wand and made the door shut, locking it behind her. He looked under his desk and saw Septima grinning and trying to catch the cum that was leaking out of her lips.
"You're more wild than I gave you credit for," Harry said.
Septima beamed. "It's been forever since I tried something like that! Doesn't the risk of discovery make it hotter? Marlene's the one who put me onto it."
Harry rolled his eyes. "The way that you talk, Professor Vector…"
"Shut it," she said. "I'm Septima right now. Remember?"
She climbed out from the desk, shedding her robes off of her hips. Harry took his shirt off. She turned around and faced her arse toward him. Harry held his slobbery dick and pointed it toward her pussy. He spread his legs apart and Septima sat in his lap again, this time allowing his cock to penetrate her.
"Merlin," she hissed. "You aren't an easy shag, that's for certain." She bounced her body, riding him. "I can already feel how sore I'll be tomorrow!"
She rested her hands on his knees to help her move. Harry rubbed her back. He had a great view of the way her arse jiggled when she came down, the moderate rolls along the sides of her stomach bouncing the same way.
"Like that," Harry groaned when she hit a good pace.
Septima looked over her shoulder at him, smiling. "It's good to know I've still got it. Last time, you did all the work on your own."
It was true. He'd pinned her to the same desk she just crawled out from under, pounding her from above. Sinistra had been with them at the time. Septima was eager to have Harry to herself this time, letting her take her time.
She was the epitome of steady, bouncing without speeding up or slowing down. Her moans punctured the room's silence between the claps of their colliding bodies. Harry wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Eventually he settled for rubbing her lower back— Septima seemed to like that, based on the way her moans rose in pitch.
"I'm cumming~!" she moaned.
The deluge washed down Harry's cock. She shuddered and stopped moving to let her aching legs rest. Harry slid his hands down to her hips, lifting her weight.
"Really—!" Septima gasped.
She was shocked that he could move her with nothing but his arms. The penetration resumed, this time with Harry's upper body doing the work. Septima's moans rose in pitch and timbre. She groped her own breasts to deal with the pressure that was building in her crotch. A second climax was imminent.
"Harry!" she yelled.
It was hard work on his arms, so he decided to cheat slightly. His magic turned Septima's body as light as a feather for the time being. The speed he was able to move her tripled, driving a succession of startled grunts from her mouth.
"Ye-e-e-es!" was Septima's staccato moan.
She spread her legs, hooking her calves over Harry's knees. The outside of her pussy was running like a faucet tap. Fluid ran down Harry's cock and dripped off of his balls. Her first orgasm was joined by a second one, a third and fourth following quickly.
"Septima…" Harry said.
She leaned back, propping herself up with her arms straight and her palms on the armrests. "Today is safe! Let it out!"
That explained why she picked today of all times to stroll into his office like this. Harry was a happy camper with that reason. He mashed her hips down and let out the torrent.
Septima groaned and wiggled her hips while he held them down, feeling his cum flow into her. She giggled and rubbed the front of her pussy. Stray trails of cum joined the juices that were already flowing out of her lips.
Septima turned around and bent her back to kiss Harry's forehead.
"Don't get fired, please," she said. "I don't know if I could do without this."
Harry smirked. "I guess I have to get off of probation now."
He sat up and tilted her forward. Soon, she was bent over the desk, Harry's still-erect member plunging into her. His ungraded papers, now trapped under one of Septima's breasts, were left to wait for another day.