"There's no way we'll lose," Potter boasted from his chair in the staff room.

Millicent scoffed into her mug, her newspaper shaking softly. Ten years post war and the ego had still not abated in the former Gryffindor seeker.

"Did you say something Bulstrode?" he smirked, his dark hair messier than ever, his eyes alight with mischief.

He's ripe for the picking, she thought to herself.

Things had not gone so well for Potter when the fanfare died. The Weasley chit decided on the eve of her wedding that she preferred a Slytherin to the crowned prince of Gryffindor house and eloped with none other than Draco Malfoy.

Everything had spiraled downhill for him afterwards. Millicent felt a momentary pang of something, she thought it might be pity for the former war hero, but after that large lunch it was likely gas. He had always been so reckless, so undisciplined.

It was time to correct that.
"Nothing, Potter," she sneered. The rest of the staff had dispersed the moment they'd heard him question what she'd said. Their rows were legendary, the last one landing them both in the infirmary.

"Are you sure? It sounded to me like you wanted to say something," he prodded, not letting it go.
Let it go, Potter, she thought.

Taking one last sip of her coffee, she stood and watched the emotions play out across his face. He was biting off more than he could chew and she didn't know why but this time it would be different.

Okay Potter, I'll take the bait.

"You seem overly sure about your house, how about a friendly wager?" she stood full height, her full bosom and rounded hips filled out her dark robes exquisitely and she watched as his eyes feasted on the small bit of exposed flesh at the opening of her blouse.

"S-s-sure what did you have in mind?"

"If I lose, you name terms," she said crossing her arms. He watched the motion of her arms, the way the position showed of her tits made him shift from foot to foot. He ran a hand through his unruly hair before asking,

"And I lose?"
"Then I'll chose your fate, it's only befitting Potter," she smiled slyly watching as his cheeks coloured and he licked his lips slightly.

"You're on!" he shoved his hand out, it must be a muggle thing she thought as she reached out and he grabbed hers and shook it.

He smiled again and ran from the staff room. They'd worked together at the school for the last few years. After the war Professor Snape had been reinstated as the headmaster, shortly afterwards he'd hired then married Hermione Granger who was the new Muggle Studies professor. As for Millicent, she'd been hired as the new Potions Professor after her apprenticeship with Professor Slughorn. Granger had convinced Snape to hire Potter. It had done the trick to pull him from his whiskey fueled stupor. His dead end job at the ministry had been relegated to desk work after the fall of Voldemort and the Weasley girl leaving him had been the icing on his shite filled hero cake.

Potter was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and was from what she heard, a very good one. His students excelled and scored well on their exams. Personally however he had not flourished much more. To be honest, the only time she saw the Potter of old was when they fought.

And boy did they fight.

Her former head of house had approached her once after a particularly nasty duel in the dungeons. Millie was nursing a cut over her eye as Potter was struggling to regrow his left arm.
"You're too obvious," Snape had whispered. Millie turned and actually guffawed.
"You're out of your mind Snape, that woman has made you lose your mind hasn't she? That's what Gryffindors do you know," she said.
"He needs a firm hand Millie," Snape said as he leaned against the wall of his former office, crossing his legs at the ankle.
Millie noticed that married life had relaxed the former spy.
"Am I that obvious?" she murmured, not making eye contact.
"Very, the only reason he hasn't noticed is that Potter is rather thick," Snape smiled.

"I just don't think..." Millie let her voice trail. She was usually confident when it came to taking a lover but they'd usually been Slytherin and there was something about the boy wonder that made her question herself. She hadn't always been that way; it had taken a while to build up her confidence. When she'd finally matured into her body it had been both a blessing and a curse. Her hair now lustrous and raven black cascaded down her back, her face had slimed and the rest of her had developed into what many men would consider attractive but to Millie she was still an overweight troll. That was until she'd found lovers that were men, those that could appreciate her for the woman she'd become. A weekend at Malfoy manor had shown her just how much fun could be had if she simply let her insecurities go. However, when it came to her heart, she questioned if anyone would want her for more than her body.

Snape took two long strides to her and grabbed her by her arms, "You stop that right now Bulstrode, that isn't what we're made of. You are a beautiful and sensuous woman, that idiot would know that if he took his head out his arse for half a second. Do not doubt your appeal my dear." He smiled at her and she felt herself colour. She knew at that moment what it was that Granger saw in him. He was a good man deep down and a caring mentor.

She nodded her head and wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye. With a wave of his wand he cured the cut on her eye and worked on a game plan for her getting her wizard.
"I honestly do not know what you see in the boy but I know that when someone is infatuated, logic or common sense do not play any part," he said.

Now the time had come, all bets were off, it had been months of teasing, stolen glances and the occasional duel but he'd walked right into her hands.
She hurried from the staff room and penned a note to Snape. He'd have to help her win.
The match was Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

Later that week...

"Can you believe that cloud cover? Blimey, I've never seen that much rain, not since the Dementors were at the school 'arry," Ron said as he walked with Harry back from the pitch.
"I almost swore I saw some dark shadows overhead Ron, it was weird. Worst thing was that we lost," Harry said shaking his head. "That and the rain cleared up the moment the match ended, very strange indeed," Harry said.
Ron laughed; he knew Harry had made a bet with Bulstrode. "So what are you going to do Harry, you have to pay up, did she finally tell you her conditions?"
"No, but I am sure I will know soon enough, she doesn't play nice that one," Harry said as he ran his hand nervously through his wet hair.
"Ron, are you ready to go? Oh hi Harry, seems the nargles had a bit of fun today..." Luna said as she linked her arm around Ron's.
"Sure Luna, whatever you say," Harry answered absentmindedly. He had learned long ago to just go with the flow when it came to Luna, she was one of his best friends and if she said there were Nargles then by Merlin balls there were Nargles.
"We're off Harry, let me know what happens," Ron said winking towards Harry.
"Sure," Harry anxiously. He was too busy looking around for Millicent to notice when his friends apparated. The moment he was alone a parchment appeared before him floating a few inches away from his face.
Reaching up he grabbed it and opened it.

Potter,
10 pm my office,
Bulstrode
P.S. Bring your broom.

Harry felt his stomach drop. He also felt his cock harden at the implication. He imagined that no one knew how he really felt towards the Potions Professor. They had been adversaries during their years at school but since his return to the school he'd been smitten by the dark haired witch. There was something intimidating about her, something dangerous and feral. After their last duel he'd stumbled blindly to behind a tapestry in an alcove, taken his cock in hand and relieved himself to the images of her. She was a goddess.

Later that evening Millicent sat in the lush chair by the hearth in her room. The roaring fire warmed her already heated body. Her body had been thrumming with need since her interaction with Potter earlier that morning. She'd spent the remaining part of her day imagining the depraved ways she would make him pay for his continued insolence. By the time she'd penned her owl to the man she'd had to frig herself in the shower to find relief.

It had been like this since he'd returned to Hogwarts as a professor. While they'd been students she found him to be arrogant and cocky. Like most of her housemates they'd been devastated when the 'chosen one' hadn't been sorted into their house but as time passed they'd come to despise his persistent notoriety and how it outshone them all. She can look back now and shrug, those were different times. It had been a long time since she'd seen that arrogant prick she'd known as a child, lately she saw a man that desperately needed to find himself again.

She looked to the crystal ball on her sideboard and watched as the man in question paced in the corridor outside her door. She'd spelled the ball to serve as a scrying glass. She sipped her brandy and saw him stare at her door and turn to begin his routine again. He'd run his hand through his hair so often she wondered how he wasn't balding.

She waited until he stood again in front of her door, his chest heaving slightly before she waved her hand. She could see his eyes widen and his chest exhale as the door swung ajar. Looking back around to see if there was anyone in his proximity he stepped cautiously inside her rooms.
"Come in Potter and close the door, I don't want to let the heat out."

He nodded and turned clumsily to close the door, his broom getting momentarily stuck between the jab and the closing door. She could hear and see him struggle with the broom; she fought to keep the smirk from her mouth lest he think she was soft. She was a Slytherin.

He turned to face her; she could see the slight sheen of sweat on his brow and the nervous fidgeting of his hand on the handle of his broom. He pushed up his glasses as his eyes darted around her rooms. He had never been inside and she wondered what he thought he would find. She was in the dungeons but there were no torture devices, no hooks.

Nothing unseemly...yet.

She sat with her back slightly to the roaring fire, she sat in silhouette but Harry could still see the curves of her figure. He swallowed the lump that had been forming in his throat since he'd seen her door swing open.

She'd been waiting for him.

"So you won, I'm here," he said, the bravado gone from his voice. He was certainly in over his head as he watched her watching him in silence.

She took another drink from her glass before placing the glass on the side table. She stood her movements smooth and fluid. He wondered if that skill came with the position of Potion's master or if it was a Slytherin thing. He had never been so graceful. Except on his broom, on his broom he'd been faster, quicker, better than the others.

He wasn't much of anything anymore.

She walked towards him, circling him as he stood stock still. His hand itched to reach for his wand. He'd faced her in a duel before and he didn't take kindly to being cursed from behind. He went to turn and her voice stopped him.

"Don't move Potter," she said.

She stopped directly in front of him. He could see more of the creamy white skin at the neck of her robes.

They were slightly open and the swell of her breasts rose up from her corset. His mouth was dry as he pictured what it would feel to run his tongue along the slit between her breasts, burying his face deep between each globe, losing himself in her heated flesh. He could feel the flush rising in his face and made to look away before she placed a finger at the side of his face and turned him to face her.

"Look at me Potter," she said, her hand moving to trace the slight stubble on his jaw before burying itself in the hair at the back of his neck. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she tugged his head back exposing his neck to her.

She stepped closer, her mouth at the curve of his neck then at the shell of his ear. He couldn't move, he could barely breathe.

"This is what you wanted Potter, isn't it?" she said before sucking his ear lobe into her hot mouth. His semi erect cock sprung to life and fought against the placket of his trousers to escape. Her other hand came down to cup him hard through the material of his trousers and he panted. He actually panted like a dog. He'd wanted this woman for so long that he couldn't believe it was actually happening.

Before he could move she stepped away leaving him bereft of her mouth at his ear and her hand on his cock. Her scent clung to the air, it was of orchids and sex and it intoxicated him more than any drink he'd imbibed. He moved to take a step towards her and she stopped him, her wand out to point at his chest.

"Not so fast Potter, lose the robes, do not lose the broom," she said as she walked back to her chair.
She picked up her drink, her other hand removing the cloak that hung loosely around her shoulders. Tossing it onto the chair she turned and Harry saw more of her. Her skin looked creamy and soft and Harry's hands twitched at the thought of his hands caressing her entire body. Her full breasts led into the glorious and sensuous curves her of hips and legs. Harry wanted nothing more than to feel those legs wrapped around him as he buried his cock inside her.

She was perfection.

Her long black skirt and corset did not do her beauty justice. The long black ringlets of her hair fell onto her back and shoulders and her dark eyes were afire with something Harry had never seen directed at him.

He moved quickly, faster than he'd ever and before long he stood naked before her, his cock stood strong and erect. He felt no shame. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of his manhood and he felt a swell of pride that he'd had any effect on this goddess. He held his broom in his hand and adjusted his glasses again.

"Mount your broom Potter," she said, Harry swore her voice was breathier than before.

He'd never thought of sitting astride his broom in the buff but her voice moved him to do the unimaginable. Throwing his leg astride the rigid wood he slightly hovered before her.

Millie watched him sit astride his broom, his hard cock rubbing gently against the polished wood of its handle. His body was firm, long legs and strong arms. He wasn't as lean as he'd been as a student and had grown into the body of a man. Millie ached to run her fingers through the dark smattering of chest hair that connected to his firm abdomen in the happiest of trails. His legs were firm and strong on either side of his broom. Her mouth watered for a moment as she took him in. He hovered about a meter off the ground bringing his leg to shoulder height. She reached out and ran her hand from his naked foot up to his thigh as she circled the broom. She heard the sharp intake of breath and watched as his cock twitched as a result of her touch. As she walked around she let her hand caress one buttock then the other letting her hand feel down the other leg the same way.

"Turn around," she said.

He obeyed immediately. Turning around and sitting once again astride on the broom, this time his cock was free. She waved her wand and the broom moved closer to her and steadied.

"Lean back," she said. Trusting her magic, he leaned back against the handle of his broom and relaxed. She'd flattened the broom's handle and made it more a board than a stick. He relaxed against it as much as he could with her hovering around him.

She moved to the side of him and reached her hand up alongside his leg to his cock, her long nails caressing the tight skin of his scrotum and the underside of his hard shaft before gripping it tightly.

"Do you like that Potter?" she asked upon hearing the slight moan of pleasure that escaped his mouth. His eyes were closed and she saw the rise and fall of his firm chest as he tried to control the feelings overcoming him. She allowed herself a small smile at the look on his face and the way his lips parted as he tried to control his breathing.

"Answer me," she demanded her hand gripping him tighter.

"Y-y-yes, oh gods yes," he stammered as he bought his hands up to his forehead, his fingers burying themselves in his disheveled hair.

She rewarded him by stroking the length of him, her hand twisting slightly on the down stroke causing him to swear breathlessly.

"Language, Potter, least I have to teach you another lesson," she chided; if he was listening closely enough he would hear the smile in her voice. She was enjoying this as much as he was as a pool of warmth flooded her knickers.

"S-s-sorry, oh gods just don't stop," he begged.

She leaned forward and took the tip of his weeping cock into her warm mouth and sucked slightly. He swore again. This time his hands moved to touch her. Emboldened by the pleasure that coursed through his veins he dared touch the curve of her hips, his other hand to smooth over the soft curls of her dark hair that tickled his naked body like living vines. He heard her moan slightly and take more of his shaft in her mouth. He felt he would spill at the feel of her cheeks hollowing out and sucking him deeply into her mouth, her hand stroking up as her mouth came down. The hand not working on his cock was busy cupping his balls and Harry Potter thought he'd died and gone to heaven.

"S-s-stop p-p-please," he was so close; he didn't want to finish like this.

She looked up at him, her hand still on his cock and for the first time ever, she smiled at him, "Just let go for me," she whispered breathlessly.

She barely got her lips around him before he was emptying himself deep into her waiting mouth. Calling out her name loudly he came, and fell as if boneless into oblivion.

Waving her hand the spell caught him before he fell clean off his broom and onto the cold dungeon floor. He'd passed out and she giggled at that fact.

She knew she was good but not "pass out" kind of good. That was certainly one for the books.

She levitated him towards the bedroom. Tucking him into her bed she turned and headed to her shower. Removing her clothes she stepped under the delicious stream of cool water that fell onto her heated body. Her body was thrumming with need but she knew in time he would reciprocate.

They always did.

Finishing up her shower she exited the shower, spelling her hair dry she tied a towel around her body and walked back to her bed. Not bothering to dress in anything more than a long white night shirt she tucked herself into bed next to her colleague.

Soon enough sleep overtook her and she dreamt of her dark haired bedmate.

Harry opened his eyes and the room was dark except for dim candle sconces hanging on the walls on either side of the bed. His arm was hugging something soft and warm and his cock was hard against the back of the person in his arms.

Could it be her? Was he dreaming?

Reaching around for his glasses he found them on the night table. A night table that wasn't his, he wasn't in his room. Looking down he heard the soft sigh of the goddess that'd tortured him to release just a few hours before. Had it been hours? He didn't even know what time it was nor did he care, all he knew was that he wanted to finish what they'd started. He let his hands roam from her arms down alongside the curve of her bottom and squeezed slightly. He heard her moan and push slightly back against him. He rubbed her arse, his hand slipping slightly between her legs and meeting the naked heat of her core. She was so hot, so incredibly wet.

Could it be possible she was this wet for him?

She shifted her leg a bit higher giving him better access and he dipped one and then two fingers into her waiting heat. She hissed and moved against him, her legs tightening around his hand. He leaned forward and kissed the smooth skin of her naked shoulder and arm. Her nightshirt was sleeveless and had allowed one of her breasts to come free and his mouth watered at the sight of it. He wondered how to turn her without removing his hand from the glorious warmth of her cunt when she turned on her own and looked up at him.

"Potter," she whispered her hand coming up to cup his face. His breath caught at the open want in her eyes, the wanton desire for him that he almost wept. He'd always been wanted for being the Boy that Lived and then afterwards it had been for being a war hero. No one ever wanted him for him.

He leaned down and brushed his lips gently against hers and she sighed, her hand coming up to his neck, pulling him down to her more. He'd wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. They stayed like that side by side just kissing, their tongues moving against each other. Their legs intertwining, their bodies close. Their kisses went from tender to heated and passionate in a matter of seconds.
Pulling away he looked at her, his eyes memorizing everything about her.

"You're beautiful," he said, his hand pushing back a long lock of hair from her face.

"Show me," she said and kissed him again. He moved from her lips to her neck, licking and nipping at the soft flesh, her noises of pleasure gave him the courage to make her his.

He moved down over her body, his hands memorizing every curve before he helped her sit up and remove the nightshirt that did little to cover her naked glory.

"So gorgeous," he whispered, his mouth wrapping around one of her dusty pink nipples.

"Oh gods," she gasped leaning back against the pillows of her bed. She buried her hands in his dark hair, something she'd wanted to do for much too long.

He moved from one nipple to the other and then again, each time driving her further mad with need. When he buried his face in the valley of her breasts she squealed with laughter. Lifting his head he smiled a smile so brilliant she thought for one fleeting moment that she could make him happy.

She pulled him to her and kissed him, his breath catching at her fervor. She felt him hard against her core and she shifted to have him slide against the wet folds of her cunt.

"Oh gods Millie, please, please let me, I need to be inside you," he begged.

Reaching down and cupping his firm backside she pulled him deep into her wrenching a gasp of surprise from his parted lips.

"Fuuuck," he said as he stilled inside her tight warmth. His forehead against hers he panted slightly at the feel of her velvet walls tightening around his shaft.

Wrapping her legs around him she moved him with her foot against his thigh. "Move Potter, fuck me," she said.
The feel of her wrapping herself around him and her course language sprung him to life and he started to move inside her. He pistoned in and out of her tight cunt feeling every delicious spasm of her inner walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper into her body.

"Gods, you feel so fucking good," he panted as he shifted position, lifting one of her legs onto his shoulders. The change in position made her mewl in pleasure as his cock hit that spot deep inside her. She reached down and fingered the tight bundle of nerves, the movement of her frigging her clit made him groan and he moved faster.

He reached down and grabbed one of her creamy white tits that moved deliciously in time with his thrusts, pulling on her nipple and she found herself toppling over, calling his name in blissful ecstasy. Harry tried to think of anything else, the uses of dragon blood, Quidditch statistics, anything except the exquisite site before him. The feel of Millie's walls clenching and releasing around his cock was almost too much. He didn't want to come yet. He wanted to keep fucking her, he didn't know if he'd have another opportunity so he was going to show her just the kind of man he could be, the man he was. Had she not made him come earlier, he would have spilled the moment he thrust inside her she felt that good.

"Turn over," he grunted as he watched her panting and pushing the hair from her face. Her pale skin was flushed a delicious shade of pink and covered in a thin coat of sweat. He licked his lips as she turned onto her knees. He leant down and licked the length of her back down to between the cheeks of her luscious arse.

Massaging her arse he felt her push back against him and he buried his face in her quim. Licking her folds and pulling her clit in his mouth he held her to him, letting her fuck his face. If he died at that moment, he'd die a happy wizard. Feeling her ready to come again he knelt up and buried himself to the hilt inside her. He stilled for a moment as they both cried out. Reaching down he grabbed a handful of her long hair and twisted it around his hand as he started to fuck her hard.

"Oh fuck yes Potter, just like that, harder," she cried out bucking back against him. Her hand reached back to pull him harder against him and he obeyed.

He reached down and grabbed her breast as he sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, deeper and harder he fucked her, losing himself to the pleasure this witch was giving him.

"On your back Potter," she cried out and in a heartbeat she was on him taking him in her hand before sinking down onto his cock.

"Yessss," he hissed reaching for her hips, pulling and pushing her back on his cock. She grabbed her tits and pulled wantonly on her nipples, which alone had him almost coming inside her. Running her hands across his chest she tweaked his nipples as she leaned down to brush her lips against his, before kissing him. Her hips still maintained a maddening rhythm above him. Her kiss was gentle, a contrast to the way her body was moving against his, seeking both her release and his. Pulling away she caressed his face, her finger tracing the lightning bolt scar that had dictated so much of his life, leaning down as if to kiss him she whispered, "Come for me Harry," before she ran her tongue against the scar. The feel of her tongue touching there sparked the magic within him and he exploded long and hard into her. Gripping her tightly he could feel them float off the bed for a brief moment before she followed him into the abyss of pleasure. Collapsing onto him he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply.

They breathed heavily as the magic swirled around him and a weight he'd carried on his soul lifted and he laughed loudly. He looked down at the woman in his arms, his laughter had surprised her and she lifted an eyebrow in question.

Smiling he asked, "Is that something all Slytherins are taught?"

Her lopsided smirk made his heat skip a quick beat. "We are, Snape teaches the class to first year Slytherins," she joked.

She made to get up but he held her to him, "Stay."

"I'm too heavy, I'll crush you," she said shyly.

"Don't be ridiculous, you feel wonderful," he said as he tightened his hold on the witch.

His witch. There was no doubt that there was no way he was leaving without making that a fact.

She relented and relaxed against him. He felt so good, her body molded to his perfectly and she wondered just what had happened between them. She'd had lovers before, but she'd never felt what she felt with him.

Millie sighed quietly as he brushed the hair from her face and looked down. He wanted to say something she could feel the slight increase in his heartbeat and the catch of his breath as she looked up to meet his eyes.

"Speak up Potter," she said, she wasn't one to mince words.

"I-I I wondered if maybe you'd like to go to dinner sometime," he managed to say. She watched him fidget with a long strand of her hair.

She had to admit that it was endearing, she wanted to crush her lips to him and squeal in excitement at being asked out by this man but it just wasn't her style.

"I'll pick the place, I have seen you eat in the Great Hall, it's appalling," she said hiding the slight smile at the corner of her lips when she saw his eyes light up.

"Of course, anything you say Millie," he sighed. He didn't know how she'd react to him using her name outside of lovemaking, he tried it on for size and he found it fit just as well as she did around him. He watched the small smile tug at the corner of her beautiful lips and his heart soared as she leaned up to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

His witch indeed.