This has been sitting in my; started, but not completed' folder. You know which one, we all have one. Anyway, this is a short one-shot because there are seriously not enough HP-ATLA crossovers here.

BTW this is basically pure crack. Hope you brought a spoon and a lighter.

"HOLD THE LIFT. Hold THE BLOODY LIFT!" the hem of his robes caught under the regular muggle sneakers he liked to wear, throwing him towards the polished floor with a squeak of rubber.

'Damn these cumbersome robes' he cursed internally, sliding over the elevator threshold and banging into the back wall with a grunt. Why did the DOM head insist he wear these damn things? They're not fireproof (if anything, one could consider them an accelerant), have no protective charms, and worst of all get in the way when you needed to get somewhere in a hurry.

Like right now.

'Ding' the musical chime rang before a soft, husky female voice reminded the occupants not to stick their arms out from the honeycomb cage.

"Merlin Potter" Zabini addressed the pathetic excuse for a wizard lying on the tiled elevator floor, busy eating a breakfast wrap with the distinct golden arches logo on the wrapper. "You could've just caught the next one."

Harry picked himself up off the floor and brushed some non-existent dirt from his clothes in an attempt to play down just how bad his entrance had looked. As if it mattered with Blaise. The guy had been present for much of Harry's more public escapades back during their Hogwarts days, if only by virtue of being in the same year as former Gryff.

"I've got an early morning meeting with Croaker." Harry lamented, righting the rectangular frames sitting on his nose. "You know how he gets when he's made to wait."

Zabini hmm'd in response. They'd worked in the elusive department he'd so thoroughly trashed in 97' for almost three years now, and in that time neither had heard so much as a 'good morning' out of old Saul.

The ride down into the bowels of the lower parts of ministry took several minutes and was, therefore, another reason Harry wanted to make it onto this particular lift, though he'd hoped it to be unoccupied. The prolonged silence could make for an awkward trip, and often various horror stories would be swapped by the occupants to alleviate this.

That coupled with some of the stranger 'incidents' that seemed to occur on a regular basis made for a healthy grapevine indeed.

"How is Creevy doing? They release him from St Mungo's yet?" Harry inquired out of the blue, recalling the last general meeting. They usually revolved around safety or lack thereof.

Zabini's lab was right next to his when the accident happened, and the only reason the former Slytherin hadn't joined his younger colleague was thanks to the extensive defensive environmental wards Blaise had personally erected shortly after finding out who was moving in across the hall from him.

It was the closest Croaker had ever gotten to saying 'good job'. Even his overachiever friend Hermione hasn't accomplished that feat.

"Yeah, umm. She's doing well, all things considering."

Harry's brow furrowed. "She?"

The bronze-skinned wizard pursed his lips, not wishing to be reminded of just how close he'd gotten to an unwanted and quite permanent sex change.

"Yeah." Was the response, though it looked like he wanted to say more. So he did, despite his better judgment. "Well, rumor has it he was a poof anyway. So perhaps it's not all bad for hi-" Zabini paused, correcting himself. "her."

Harry honestly wasn't sure what to say to that so he settled on; "Good for him. I mean her" Merlin that was going to take some getting used to.

When the doors finally parted both rushed out as if on fire, immediately heading in opposite directions. With any luck, they wouldn't cross paths for a few months. Long enough to perhaps dull the memory of the encounter.

Unspeakable Potter made into his superior's office with a scant half-minute to spare. The black-haired wizard immediately consulted the clock on the far wall before grinning victoriously. The much older man's already considerable frown deepened some more. Perhaps he was looking forward to tearing his departments 'celebrity' a new one.

"Holly Wood!" he barked. "Status report!"

Harry's eye twitched at the nickname. Everyone had one, and he didn't like his in the least. Croaker had one too, though he never heard it. Three guesses as to what it was. Here's a hint, it rhymed with Foat Gucker.

"Good Morning Sir. Let me tell you, it is wonderful to see you with eyebrows again." Harry greeted with faux cheerfulness. He was very good at annoying others like this, and the threat of retaliation was minimal. After all, you can't fault someone for complimenting someone, right? Saul looked thunderous.

"Just. Report." he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Well, the magical species revitalization program is going well, though I've run into resistance with the cross-species aspect of it."

After that first disastrous attempt to turn that unicorn into a breeding mare for a rather amorous Pegasus he'd turned to the creature's close cousin, the Narwhal.

Even after three months the sights and sounds of a winged horse mounting a plump speckled gray whale suspended by wide, heavy-duty lifting belts hadn't left his head. Oh Merlin, the noises. It was like his anti-Patronus go-to memory!

"I pulled you from that project ages ago!" the man bellowed, before regaining his composure…mostly. Before Harry had the chance to explain he'd already moved on. "What of the Philadelphia Project?"

This time he frowned. Harry could not for the life of him figure out why it had been called that. The whole idea of that particular endeavor was to make something invisible. At least in muggle literature. Even Hermione agreed with him.

"Err, well we got it to make a noise." He offered weakly.

"A noise?" Croaker repeated.

"Oh yes. If subjected to a marathon session of Dr. Phil it will make this awful wailing noise."

Perhaps a bit of background information was in order. You see, in his lab, there was a large reptilian glass habitat. It had all of the usual amenities. Water dish, food, heat lamp. Etc. The creature inside was invisible. It was his job to make it visible. They sort of knew what it looked like, having dumped paint over it. But that wasn't the point.

The thing was a pest, and in order to combat it, a spell had to be created to detect it. And Harry was pants at spell creation.

"Honestly sir, I don't know why we can't just involve Lovegood on this. It sounds exactly like those Wrack things she always talks about."

His boss's head shot up, a manic look gracing his features. With the bushy eyebrows, he looked a bit like the proctologist from that Cannonball Run movie he's seen with Hermione. Harry tried his best to not imagine him with latex gloves. Snapping into place.

Too late.

"You didn't talk to anyone about this, did you?" Croaker whispered as if his office was bugged or something.

Harry's eyes widened. "No, sir. Of course not." Uhh, oh, he may have gotten a bit too close to Saul's paranoid nerve. Harry found that out the hard way when every one of his close friends not working in the DOM had two weeks of their memories wiped last August when he'd casually mentioned a single unimportant and completely irrelevant tidbit of information to Ron.

Harry swore there wasn't much left in his friend's head these days. At least he could still fly for the Canons and support himself off the resulting pay-cheque.

The meeting, i.e. grilling mercifully ended shortly thereafter, and Harry couldn't help but sigh in relief, having bought himself another month to work on his real project.

A magical swiss army tool.

It was a device that borrowed some ergonomically principals from muggle telly remote. Inside the contraption was a wand attached to servos. They moved the wand in certain ways to produce spells, all shrunk small enough to fit in someone's pocket. All the wizard or witch had to do was point and shoot. A conductor in the grip drew magic from the operator's core.

Right now it could stun, explode, tickle, trip, and so much more by simply rotating a knob on the side. He hoped to add more features as they came to him. But regardless of its completion, it was brilliant. A small voice inside his head asked if an invention like that wouldn't possibly doom the future of magical education by taking all of the skill out of casting, but he ignored it as usual.

Heading down the hall and towards the stairs, the black-haired man whistled a merry tune before eventually arriving at his lab. Firing off the half dozen or so new (to him) detection charms he'd found in the Black Library, to no avail, he ignored the invisible creature in the tank and focused on the latest team related project.

Basically each unspeakable had several projects of their own, while the larger ones were handled as a group effort. What that meant for him today (and on most other days) was a bunch of tedious math he didn't like doing.

Luckily for him, muggles had made huge leaps and bounds in computer-aided mathematics. Therefore what would take a normal witch or wizard days, he could usually accomplish in a few hours. It was also why Croaker put up with his shite. The personal projects were just fun ways to pass the time while the muggle machine in the corner ran simulations.

Pulling out a Tupperware container with a leftover portion of last night's supper, he started inputting variables whilst simultaneously trying not to spill alfredo sauce over the very hard to clean keyboard.

He liked to live on the edge.

Work proceeded unhindered until just before noon. By that time he'd polished off what was supposed to be lunch and was contemplating reducing his emergency granola bar stash in the top drawer by one.

Before a decision could be made through, the all too familiar department-wide alarm and PA system wailed to life. After the usual; 'Please stand by for an important service announcement' a far less composed voice said the following;

"Hello? Yes, err there's been a containment breach on level five." A borderline panicked male voice stated. "Attention all staff, if you see a bright white light please do not approach it."

Harry looked up from the chicken scratches he was writing on a half torn piece of paper. Is he saying don't go towards the light? Well, there was some sound advice right there!

The PA abruptly died again and for a few minutes, it was business as usual. Harry usually kept his door open and was keeping a wary eye on it, just in case.

Turns out it didn't matter. That light they were talking about? Yeah, it could move through solid objects, as demonstrated when it suddenly appeared from the mess of papers, right through his desk.

They couldn't have mentioned that?

"Gah!" he pushed himself and the office chair back, allowing it to roll until it hit the shelf with the Snorlax thing he was supposed to study.

Moments later a frazzled looking Hermione Granger and a few of her colleagues stampeded by, crashed into something, then staggered inside.

"Don't-" she panted hard. "-touch that."

Harry raised an eyebrow, looking bemused. "I wasn't planning on-." he never got to finish as the light zipped from the desk and hit him straight in the chest.

With a blinding flash he, and the muggle office chair he'd occupied, were gone.

The color drained from Hermione's face. "Bugger me." She muttered.

oOo

"-it." He finished before he could help himself. Wherever he was, it was bright. And hot. Harry's eyes slowly adjusted to the light, though he helped the process along by tapping his frames with the tip of his wand, transfiguring them into Aviators.

He liked the style, and sometimes he'd quote Maverick or Goose when appropriate (which was almost never)

There were people around him, and they looked pissed. A lot of that supposed anger morphed into confusion, with a bit of surprise sprinkled in.

"What-" A girl in a blue dress started. By unspoken agreement another, in this case, a black-haired boy with a very distinct scar continued. "the-"

"Fuck" Harry felt obligated to finish. Ok, so it didn't quite conform to the Departments rigid first contact scenario script, but this kind of stuff almost never happened to him!

The old man with the impressive sideburns cringed, and the short green kid on the other end barked out an amused laugh.

Azula, never one to let an opportunity slip away quickly pulled a hidden dagger from her boot, then moved behind the stranger and held it threateningly up to his throat.

"Halt, you cretins. One step further and he gets it." She grabbed a hand full of his hair, which she was surprised to note was softer than her own.

Well shit.

"Let him go, Niece!" the portly old-timer said in an oddly accented voice. Wait, did he say niece? Was this… a family quarrel?

"Who do you take me for Uncle!" his captor snarled.

Looks like it was.

"Here's what going to happen", she sneered from right behind Harry. "You're going to back up nice and slow, while I take this one for a quick trip." She whistled loudly, causing him to complain a bit since her lips were literally right next to his ear.

"Shut up fool. Another word from you and I'll open you from ear to ear."

Harry rolled his eyes. He could end this right now but was curious to see where it would go. Judging from how merrily this little town here was burning, it could be interesting.

Out of nowhere, a giant lizard popped into view, complete with riding saddle of all things. Ok, definitely interesting. Seriously, the thing was the size of a London City Cab!

"Get up." She commanded and he felt the tip of the knife draw a bit of blood. Shrugging he complied and found that his captor was a good foot and a half shorter than he was. It was almost funny.

The others seemed to agree, and the dark-skinned boy especially seemed to get a kick out of it.

"Hey, should we keep calling her 'Highness'?" he mocked. "You know, cause she's short." Ok kid, you should have stopped at Highness. Oddly enough it felt like his back was suddenly towards a roaring bonfire. The heat radiating was intense, bordering on the painful. He associated it with one of the wood structures burning. Yeah, that must be it. And also why the girl behind him smelled like a campfire.

The two awkwardly shuffled towards the waiting reptile and he found himself on the saddle soon enough, a pair of delightfully sized breasts pressed into his back.

This wasn't so bad, he mused, right until they got underway and she pushed him off a few minutes later.

What a Bitch!

Harry dusted himself off for the second time that morning and looked around. He was in the middle of butt f**k nowhere, with nothing but a wand and some very impractical work robes to call his own.

Well, at least he wore his muggle clothes underneath. Quickly pulling the stuffy dark garments off he was left in some jeans and a plain white T.

"Welp, may as well head back and see if he could get some answers out of those others." He said out loud to no one in particular. Unfortunately, by the time he trundled back into town, there was little more than smoking ruins left. And the people he'd briefly interacted with were long gone.

Brilliant.

With a sigh, he sat down on the abandoned office chair. As soon as he did the world flashed white once more.

oOo

At first, Harry concluded he'd re-appeared n the same dusty hell hole as the previous one. Or so he thought. Yes, the ground was just as bare and dry. But the town was gone. Instead, he found himself in front of a gargantuan drill, flanked by what he assumed were…tanks? They looked weird. Noting that they were a fair distance away, he allowed himself to look around a bit.

So there were a few…small differences. Like a very, very tall stone wall at his back for one. Some of the men (the timbre was low enough for him to tell) were yelling at him from up top, but the height made it difficult to hear what they wanted.

Figuring that drill was going to end up where he was sitting sooner rather than later, Potter got up and shrunk his chair, pocketing it. He had a feeling it was his ride out of here.

High up on the drill's raised bridge the Fire nation Princess spotted a speck of white against the beige base of the wall. Raising a heavy pair of binoculars the speck took the shape of a familiar individual.

It was the tall oaf she'd used to escape two weeks ago. 'What's he doing here?' she thought.

Harry observed as a dozen men in green outfits charged ahead. The odd thing was they didn't even carry weapons. Not that it would matter. Even from a mile away he could tell that boring machine was at least ten stories in diameter.

None the less he followed along, though at a more leisurely pace. It was more out of curiosity than anything. His decision was quickly rewarded when he witnessed the men strike odd poses. The effects of those moves nearly made his eyebrows and hairline connect, however. Spurs of solid rock blasted from the ground, propping up the side of the drill like timbers would an old sailing ship.

The spurs quickly crumbled though, and the men now looked to be fighting a pair of…girls? Oh, and they were losing badly. In a matter of minutes, the numerically superior force was down and out for the count.

The pink wearing one noticed him first, somersaulting over to him in an almost childlike manner.

"Hey there. Are you with those earth benders?" It was a straight forward question. Harry shook his head.

"Fraid not Madame."

"Oh, ok. Have a nice day." He waved after her, honestly wondering where the hell he was. Sadly the (mostly) neutral relations were not to last. The other girl, he'd call her Wednesday for obvious reasons, assumed some sort of martial arts stance and said; "You there, surrender yourself to the Fire Nation or we will incapacitate you." The last part was stated with a bit of longing as if she hadn't had a good challenge in a while.

"Pass," he said, figuring why the hell not. If Croaker asked what happened he could just say the natives were hostile. Which wasn't entirely untrue.

The blades came as a surprise, and they hurt. Three embedded themselves in his lower arm, which he'd raised reflexively to protect his head and torso. Bloody hell, that was unexpected. Pulling them free he quickly closed the wounds.

The girl hadn't followed up the attack. In fact, she looked a bit surprised to have injured him. Why she'd do that was beyond him. It was like she expected him to just not get hit or something.

Well, screw playing nice. "Stupefy" he shouted, snapping off the stunner. Yeah, he could have cast it silently, but it wasn't like she was a Witch.

Wednesday it seemed had no issue dodging his retaliatory attack though. Ahh, this could be a problem.

oOo

From the command center, Azula watched her childhood friend carry out her orders. If the peasant knew what was good for him he'd surrender. But then Mai attacked. And he didn't dodge. How very peculiar.

But it was the red light that really piqued her interest. Even from this distance, she could tell it wasn't fire bending. But what else could it be?

Ty Lee meanwhile had stealthily made her way behind the tall stranger and prepared to pressure point him into the next week.

oOo

Harry wasn't born yesterday. Yes, he may have taken some damage from those skinny knives, and thank goodness they weren't poison-tipped, but full situational awareness was taught to all DOM staff upon admittance. Heck, they were nearly as well trained as the Aurors!

So when the Ponytailed girl charged from behind he was ready. Like a mirage, he shimmered as the acrobat's finger found nothing but air. The illusion dissipating, while the real Harry Potter slinked off under a notice me not and disillusionment combo.

Or would have if a blue-white fireball hadn't slammed into the ground less than a foot away.

"Merlin's itchy Hemorrhoids!" he shouted, rolling away on instinct before a second fire blast grazed his t-shirt, setting it ablaze spectacularly.

Stop Drop and Roll! Stop Drop and Roll!

Dust, soot, and grime-covered, he popped back up and turned towards his assailant, eyes narrowing.

"All right, I've just about had it with you!" he raised his wand at her, but then had a terrible, and brilliant idea.

Everyone who knew Potter was aware he was a powerhouse of magical potential. It clashed terribly with his klutzy, goofy, completely opposite of the word suave, nature. But nearly no one in Britain could pull off what he was about to.

The wand moved slightly, and Azula tracked where he was pointing it at. The drill.

With a large wave and just the right amount of wrist action(it's all in the wrist), the smoke-belching behemoth rippled, its rusty, dark gray exterior smoothing out and bulging, creating fat rolls of browny, translucent flesh.

The newly aware flobberworm realized that no, this wasn't where the cabbage was, and yes, it was very dry here, which wasn't good for its skin. Scrunching together the massive worm compressing itself to the point where it looked as though it was going to burst, before stretching again, gaining several hundred meters in a mere few seconds.

Several hundred kilometers away, in Omashu, a certain Cabbage cart vendor shuddered violently, as though someone had walked over his grave.

Azula's manners failed her for a minute there as she observed the impossible, mouth agape. Her precious drill was hightailing it across the plains, rapidly shrinking as it sought out 'greener pastures', so to speak. The shock quickly faded though, replaced by anger. No, something more than ager.

Rage. Her fury then knew no equal, but before she could unleash her wrath and turn the stranger to nothing but a charred crispy shell a bright white light popped into existence.

She let the charge at her fingertips dissipate, the energy bleeding through her body into the ground below. Let's see where this went.

"Harry!" the light shouted. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"Mione!" he sounded elated. "Your timing is spot on. Get me the bloody hell out of here. The people here are all sorts of crazy!"

The silence coming from the light was tangible. "We're working on it, Harry. Hang tight, ok."

"Hang on? Hermione, they're shooting fire at me! And throwing knives!" ok, he was beginning to whine a bit.

"So? Just cast a flame freezing charm over yourself. And your robes are charmed against physical attacks."

"They are?" he made the mistake of replying.

Another pause. "Just don't pick any fights with whomever you're with. That's an order from Croaker."

Potter ran a hand down his face. "What about self-defense?" he asked, eying the hot but slightly unhinged looking bird across from the orb, who'd held off for the moment.

"He's shaking his head, Harry." The light said, not realizing the conversation was being overheard by the very thing he needed defending from.

"Well shite." He muttered as the light faded. The girl's grin was borderline feral.

"All right, I think I've overstayed my welcome." He eyed the three ladies as he backed up towards the office chair he hoped would be his DeLorean out of here. After all, it had worked for him once. They advanced as he backed away.

Sitting down, nothing happened. Of fucking course.

"Do I need to click my shoes together? He asked aloud, tapping the snickers.

"There's no place like home?"

Nadda. Zilch.

"Damn you, I'm throwing you in the dumpster when I get back, you synthetic fiber and foam piece of rubbish!"

Those were the last words before precision strikes sent him into oblivion.

oOo

"Predictably, he woke up in a cell. Made entirely of metal. And his wand was missing. Marvelous.

The blue flamed girl must have read the sinister evildoer handbook, because mere minutes following his wakening she entered, standing at ease on the other side of his new home. Of course, there were bars separating the two.

"Are you from the Spirit World?"

Well, he wouldn't call it that, but his office did contain a large variety of booze that could be classified as such.

"Huh?" was the response instead.

"How did you turn my expensive and very important drill into that…creature?" The bird started pacing, while Harry moved close to the bars.

"Look, Lady, I think we've started off on the wrong foot. Just let me go, and I can almost guarantee you'll never hear from me again." There was always a chance fate would fuck him over when making comments like that, so he never spoke in absolutes anymore.

A surprisingly strong arm grabbed the front of his admittedly dirty shit, while the other drew close, two fingers pointed at him. Harry was about to make a very inappropriate joke when the tips lit like a butane torch, with matching sound effects and heat.

Sweet Merlin, this girl was like the human torch.

"Enough. Answer my question, or I'll flambé your face."

The wandless stunner worked like a charm from this distance, and mercifully the flame flicked out. Unspeakable Potter awkwardly propped up his captor through the bars and had just inserted his hand in her tunic to fish out a key when her friends made an appearance.

"This isn't what it looks like." He stammered, hand still groping wildly despite the stunned audience. "I- I was just trying to break out."

Sadly he didn't have the time to look for a blade and demand his stuff back, which might have worked. Instead, the door opened and he was subjected to more jabs. Many more.

It felt like all he could do was breathe and move his eyes. Damn those pressure point attacks were bloody cool.

"Nggghhh" he managed, laying there with only a dull gray riveted ceiling to look at.

oOo

Turns out he was at sea, on the deck of an impressively sized ship. The girl he'd groped with livid when she finally woke up, and in the fire nation tradition had organized a pyre and a stake. Harry was dragged outside and tied to it.

Burned at the stake. Classic.

Problem was the flame freezing charm wasn't one he knew wandlessly. It wasn't part of the standard curriculum, seeing how no one had been executed like this in over two hundred years.

Luckily before those bastards could light him the white ball came back.

"Hermione, you'd better be ready. They tied me to the stake, and there's an arse load of combustibles under my feet."

"Sorry Harry, we're still working on it. Just checking in on you. Tell your new friends hi, and we'd love to meet them."

Was she Sirius?

The girl he'd felt up was standing in front of the pile, flame sitting in her outstretched hand.

"Any last words, fiend?"

Oh, she shouldn't have asked him that.

"Yeah, I got a few. If I had to describe them in a few words I'd say quite firm, but the nipple to breast proportion was out. I mean, they were pretty big. Like I was rolling the edge of a knut between my fingers. Your areola must be the size of bus blinkers."

Absolute silence. Knowing it was the calm before the storm and not wishing to make this escape any harder Harry apparated away, stake and all. Whoever said you could only side along with other people?

The only place he knew was that blasted wall and the burnt down abandoned town, so he opted for the wall.

Reappearing, still perched on his pile of wood, the wizard cleared his throat.

"Oi! You up there." A strange beige hat appeared, no bigger than a pin at this distance. "Can you untie me?"

oOo

For the first time since coming here, Harry finally got some answers. The blokes who'd helped him off the pyre were Earth Kingdom(original, I know) while the psychotic girl and her ilk were known as the Fire Nation. The two 'nations' were at war, hence the big drill and the tanks.

Also, bending. That was pretty cool and explained the flying rocks, fireballs, and other things. The strange animals were not among them.

Harry clearly had his priorities straight when forming his next question.

"Hey, do you guys have a winged unicorn? And if so where would I be able to find one?"

Because he was a nobody and with no money or abilities(again, no wand, no fancy fireworks shows to impress the people that made the important decisions)he was housed in the local barracks. Harry though didn't stay there long, as another 'update' came from Hermione.

"The chair is the key. The ball of light has fused with it and is your only way back."

Oh, you mean the chair I lost. Right, that one. Looks like he was going back to the fire bombers. A quick check with the garrison commander confirmed that the Fire Nation had taken it, seeing as no one had reported seeing an odd item like the one he'd described.

Apparating back to the deck in the dead of night was easy. Finding his wand and that damn chair? Not so much. Of course, technically, he only needed the chair, but Harry would be damned if he ever needed to walk into that creep Olivander's shop of terrors again.

The cargo hold came up empty, though he did linger for a few minutes watching a pair of sentries go at it like the world was about to end. And yes, before you get excited, one of them was female.

A quick pit stop in stores saw him wearing heavy and bulky armor that would spell the death of anyone who fell in the water. Logic, it seemed didn't have as firm of a grasp on this world as it did his own, though there were times he wondered.

On and on it went, until finally, only the officers' quarters remained. A wandless Alohomora granted him access to opulently appointed rooms, but it wasn't until the captain's quarters that finally struck pay dirt.

Ironically the crazy blue flamed bitch, which he now knew to be a Princess, was using the chair for its intended purpose, tucked into a wooden desk along the side.

But where was the wand?

"And just what do you think you're doing?"

Oh shit.

The long-haired brunette sauntered over, wearing a practically see-through silk robe.

Double oh shit.

Turns out the Princess had needs, in the form of a strapping, young sailor every now and then. But she liked his initiative, and it was dark enough that she didn't roast Harry the second the helmet, along with the pants and rest of his borrowed gear, came off.

Apparently, it took balls to break into his royal highness's quarters looking for a booty call. Balls that were now slapping against the entrance of her ass.

Damn it was good to be him sometimes.

Turns out her highness is a screamer. Who'd have thought?

One small hiccup occurred when she lost control during her fifth orgasm and shot fire from her mouth. Thank goodness he was behind her pulling that soft, midnight black hair, with a small wooden paddle in hand. But the nearby tapestry caught fire, and she caught a glimpse of him through the wall mirror.

"You!" she snarled, but Harry was quick to pin her very dangerous hands above her head, having flipped her around. Fearful of a repeat performance, IE him taking places with the ruined wall art, his tongue darted into her mouth, and she melted under his skillfully applied ministrations.

"I loathe you," she hissed upon breaking the kiss, clawing at his chest with razor-sharp nails, before pushing him back and hoping on top.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Sweetheart." He ground out as she ground him into the mattress, hands holding onto the sheets for dear life.

Nearly an hour and a half later the deed done, and Harry, with some difficulty, extracted himself from the sticky, hot mess on the bed. His hips were sore, and let's not mention the burns.

Turns out angry sex was even better than makeup sex. But Merlin that woman had milked him dry! And her breasts? He took it back. Those puppies were as close to perfection as it got.

Donning the Helmet only, he hopped onto the office chair, the wand be damned. Then the mangled wizard fed every ounce of magic left in himself into the piece of office furniture. Turns out all it needed was a recharge.

With a pop, he reappeared in his office. Now that wouldn't have been so bad, were it not for the dozen or so colleagues present.

"Evening Lads. Hermione." He greeted, voice muffled by the full face shield, while also doing absolutely nothing to cover his abused and very nude body.

"Holly Wood!" Saul barked, being the first to recover if he even needed any time at all. "Report!"

And there you have it. A day in the life of your average Department of Mysteries operative. Suck on that, MI5!