Harry didn't waste time as McGonagall's breath hitched beneath him, her legs still wrapped around his waist, clinging to him with the desperation she had been trying to suppress all these weeks. Her normally stern, composed exterior had completely unraveled under his touch. He could feel her fingers trembling slightly as they fumbled at his robes, pulling him closer, urging him on. Her restraint was gone.
"You're not supposed to do this, Professor," Harry whispered, lips brushing her ear, teasing. But even as he spoke, his hands were already sliding under her robes, finding the heat of her skin. He wanted her to know that this wasn't about respect, or tradition, or authority. It was about control. His control.
McGonagall gasped, her back arching as Harry's fingers trailed up her inner thigh, sending a shudder through her. She grabbed at his shoulders, half pulling him down onto her, half trying to maintain whatever little dignity she had left. Her eyes locked with his, filled with an intensity that made him smirk.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," she breathed, her voice shaky but determined. She pulled his face down, capturing his lips in another hungry kiss. This time there was no hesitation. Her hands slid down his back, tugging at his waistband, and Harry groaned against her mouth as she finally freed him.
Harry's fingers pressed harder against her, eliciting a soft moan as he slid inside, teasing her warmth, her wetness. She was already soaked, her body betraying her every attempt to keep control. He grinned, pulling back slightly to watch her face as he worked her open, slow and deliberate.
"Harry..." she moaned again, her head falling back against the desk. She couldn't hide how much she wanted it, how much she needed him, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths as he teased her relentlessly.
His free hand moved to her robes, pulling them aside to expose her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, and Harry's mouth descended on one, biting gently as his fingers continued to pump inside her. McGonagall gasped, her hands flying to his hair, fingers gripping hard as her hips rocked against him.
It didn't take long for her to start falling apart. She was panting now, her moans growing louder, more frantic, her entire body trembling as Harry increased the pace. He could feel her getting closer, her thighs squeezing around his waist, her nails digging into his shoulders as she desperately chased the release she had been denying herself for so long.
"Please," she whimpered, her voice barely more than a breath. "Don't stop... please..."
Harry grinned, pulling his fingers out of her just before she reached the edge. McGonagall gasped in frustration, her eyes flying open as she looked up at him, desperate and confused.
"Not yet, Professor," he teased, his voice low and commanding. "You don't get to come until I say so."
She bit her lip, a soft whimper escaping her as she nodded, her body trembling with the need for release. Harry could see it in her eyes—the desperation, the hunger. She was completely at his mercy, and she knew it.
Without another word, he positioned himself between her legs, gripping her hips as he lined up with her entrance. He could feel her wetness, the heat radiating from her as he pushed the tip of his cock against her. McGonagall moaned softly, her hands flying to his shoulders, pulling him down toward her as her hips bucked forward, trying to take him inside.
But Harry held back, teasing her with shallow thrusts, just enough to drive her wild. "You have to ask nicely, Professor," he said, his voice mocking. "If you want it, you're going to have to beg."
McGonagall's cheeks flushed deep red, but there was no fight left in her. She was past the point of shame, past the point of resistance. Her voice was shaky, almost pleading as she looked up at him with wide, dark eyes. "Please, Harry," she whispered. "I need it... I need you."
Harry smirked, satisfied. Without another word, he thrust into her hard, burying himself inside her in one smooth motion. McGonagall gasped, her head falling back as her body arched into him, her walls clenching tight around him.
"Fuck," Harry groaned, feeling her wet heat envelop him. He gave her a moment to adjust before pulling back and thrusting into her again, harder this time, setting a steady, punishing rhythm. McGonagall's moans grew louder with each thrust, her hands flying to his back, nails digging into his skin as she clung to him.
Harry's pace quickened, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mingled with McGonagall's breathless moans. She was completely lost in the sensation now, her body trembling as Harry drove into her relentlessly, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
"Harry... I'm..." she gasped, her voice breaking as her body tensed beneath him.
"Come for me, Professor," Harry growled, his voice low and commanding. "Now."
That was all she needed. With a strangled cry, McGonagall's body convulsed beneath him, her walls tightening around him as she came hard, her entire body shaking with the force of it. Harry groaned as she clenched around him, her release pushing him closer to his own edge.
With a few more hard thrusts, Harry felt his own orgasm building. He gripped her hips tighter, his pace becoming erratic as he buried himself inside her one last time, groaning as he spilled inside her, filling her with his release.
For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies still intertwined, their breaths heavy and ragged. Harry pulled out slowly, watching as McGonagall lay there, her chest heaving, her body trembling in the aftermath of their encounter. She looked completely spent, her cheeks flushed, her eyes half-closed as she struggled to catch her breath.
"That... shouldn't have happened," she whispered, her voice shaky.
Harry smirked, pulling his robes back on. "It did though."
McGonagall didn't respond, her eyes closing as she lay there, trying to gather herself. Harry took one last look at her, her legs still spread wide, his cum dripping from between her thighs, and smirked. This wouldn't be the last time. He'd make sure of that.
Harry adjusted his robes after leaving McGonagall's classroom, a smug grin still playing on his lips as he made his way to History of Magic. The encounter had left him buzzing with that familiar sense of power. Every step felt deliberate, his mind already calculating the next move, the next game. McGonagall might have been wrapped up in shame and regret after what had happened, but Harry knew better—she'd be thinking about it all day.
He entered the History of Magic classroom, the usual dreary air hanging around Professor Binns like a stale fog. His eyes immediately landed on Lavender Brown, already seated, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw him. There was a raw hunger in her gaze, the same look she always gave him after their sessions.
Harry slipped into the seat next to her, his hand brushing hers under the desk. He leaned in close, his lips barely an inch from her ear, his voice low and teasing. "Happy now?"
Lavender turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a smirk. "Very happy," she purred softly. "You were perfect this morning, Harry. I needed that."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes lingered on her lips for a second. He leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable. "Good. But I need your help with something tonight."
Her eyes brightened with curiosity, and her hand slid up his thigh, fingers teasing as she grinned wickedly. "You can always use me, Harry."
Harry grabbed her wrist, halting her touch. "Not like that. I'm conducting an experiment, and I need you to help. You in?"
Lavender's brow arched, intrigued but playful. "What kind of experiment? Are we talking magical, or…" She trailed off suggestively, biting her lip.
"I need you to focus, Lavender," Harry said, smirking. "This is about magic—real magic. I'll explain later, but I need you to trust me."
She hesitated for a second, her smile faltering slightly. Then, she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "I'll do it. But I want something in return."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"
Lavender's grin widened, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I want you to spit in your hand and rub me down there. Right here. Right now. History of Magic is so bloody boring, and I need something to keep me awake."
Harry smirked, glancing around the classroom to make sure no one was watching. Binns was droning on about some ancient goblin rebellion, completely oblivious to the world around him, and most of the students were half-asleep anyway. Lavender, however, was wide awake, her legs already spreading slightly under the desk, her skirt riding up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs.
"Deal," Harry muttered, leaning down as he spat into his hand, his fingers slick with saliva.
Lavender bit her lip, eyes hooded with anticipation as she felt his fingers brush her inner thigh. She shifted in her seat, parting her legs wider, her breath quickening as his hand slid beneath her skirt, finding her wet and ready. She moaned softly, just enough for Harry to hear, her body tensing as he rubbed her in slow, deliberate circles.
"Fuck, that's good," she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed as she pressed herself harder against his hand.
Harry kept his focus, his movements steady, teasing her, drawing out every little whimper and moan as Binns' voice droned on in the background. Lavender was practically vibrating in her seat, her hips rocking against his palm as he worked her closer and closer to the edge.
When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, Lavender was panting softly, her face flushed and her body trembling from the orgasm she'd been holding back. She shot Harry a satisfied smile, her hand brushing his under the desk before standing up.
"That was fun," she whispered as they gathered their things. "I'll see you tonight for that experiment."
Harry nodded, satisfied. "You better be ready."
---
After class, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Lavender, and Parvati walked together toward the Great Hall for lunch. Hermione was rattling on about some spell she'd read about in the library, her usual bookish excitement spilling over. But Harry's mind was elsewhere, already thinking about tonight.
As they reached the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry turned to Parvati, his expression casual. "You don't have to come tonight, you know. It's just an experiment. You can sit this one out if you're not up for it."
Parvati, always the curious one, flashed him a grin. "Oh, I'm coming. I'm just as interested in what's going to happen as Lavender is."
Harry smirked. "Alright then. Just don't complain if things get weird."
The rest of the day passed by in a blur of classes and idle conversation, the anticipation building in the back of Harry's mind. By the time Herbology ended, Harry was more than ready to get things moving. But as they gathered their things, Hermione pointed out that Astronomy was their next class, and there was no way they could conduct the experiment during Professor Sinistra's lesson.
"Bloody hell," Harry groaned, rubbing his temples as they headed to the Astronomy Tower. "I hate Astronomy at night."
Ron snickered beside him. "Come on, mate. At least it's easy. Just stare at some stars, pretend you know what's going on, and get through it."
Harry shot him a glare, but couldn't help smirking as he thought about their professor. Aurora Sinistra was young, petite, and strikingly beautiful, with a sharp intellect to match. She didn't seem to get the attention some of the older professors commanded, but Harry had noticed her. And tonight, as he carried his telescope into the cold tower, he couldn't help but grin.
At least there'd be *some* fun to be had.
As the class began, Professor Sinistra walked around the tower, adjusting telescopes and explaining constellations with her usual crisp efficiency. Harry found himself paying more attention to her than the stars. Her robes hugged her slim form, her dark hair pulled back in a loose knot, strands falling around her face as she leaned over one of the telescopes.
*Not bad at all,* Harry thought, his gaze following her movements as she made her way around the tower. He wondered how long it would take to turn her attention to him, to start laying the groundwork for something more. She was too sharp to be taken off-guard easily, but Harry had a way of getting what he wanted when he put his mind to it.
The lesson dragged on, Harry barely listening as Sinistra explained some distant star system. His mind was already racing ahead, thinking about the possibilities—how he could use this class to set the stage, how he could draw her in, make her notice him.
By the time class ended, Harry had made his decision. He wasn't going to rush things with Sinistra. He'd be patient. Lay the groundwork, act like the diligent student, earn her trust. And when the time was right, when she was most vulnerable, he'd make his move.
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