Professor Potter Ch. 39 (Harry Potter) (Patreon)

A/N: Please be sure to check out the Vibe Check immediately proceeding this update if you want to participate in the future of this story. Thanks for reading!

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In the end, after everything Apolline tells him about her mother and the Delacour Clan, Harry does agree to have her arrange a meeting between them. While there are obviously some things that Apolline can’t tell him due to her loyalty to the Veela Clan coming first, she tells him enough for Harry to know he wants her mother on his side. More than that, he doesn’t want her against him.

Still, it will take time, or so Apolline says. And Harry has a job to do at Hogwarts. He’s still the DADA Professor after all, but more than that, he’s being watched. If he’s gone for too long, the Lodge of Sorceresses will begin to question his absences and start wondering just where he’s run off to, of that Harry has no doubt. He’s been moving carefully until now, but admittedly taking a trip to the mainland to spend the weekend at Chateau Delacour might have been a step too far. Only time would tell.

For now, Harry bids farewell to Gabrielle and Apolline Delacour, and returns to Hogwarts with Fleur at his side. All three of them are incredibly clingy about it, with Fleur even looking smugly at her sister and mother as she gets to leave with him. But it’s not like he can have her hanging off his arm wherever he goes in the Castle, so as soon as they’re back at Hogwarts, he sends Fleur off for the time being.

… Something tells him she’ll be paying him some late-night rendezvous going forward, however. That combined with all the other women he’s juggling, including a nymphomaniac Narcissa Malfoy… well, it was a lot to say the least. But Harry couldn’t stop now. Not for anything.

That was why the first thing he did after classes were over on Monday was pull Hermione aside to see how things were going with Professor Merigold. The brunette witch had been radiating smugness and barely contained excitement all throughout Defense Against the Dark Arts, so he figured SOMETHING must have happened.

Her glee only builds when they’re finally alone together, with Harry raising an eyebrow as Hermione positively vibrates in place.

“Well, ‘Mione? How are things going?”

“Good! Better than good, even. Um… things happened, while you were away in France.”

Harry blinks at that. Things happened? Could Hermione be anymore vague? And yet, it was obvious that his friend was eager for him to ask her… so he does, too amused to be annoyed over her wiggling and squirming.

“Things happened? What kind of things?”

“… The assassination kind of things.”

Eyes widening, Harry suddenly looks at Hermione in a new light. She doesn’t look hurt, but then… no, that doesn’t make sense either. If Professor Merigold was dead, Harry would have heard about it by now, that sort of news wouldn’t be kept from him, especially not with the Headmistress on his side. As far as he knew, all of the Hogwarts Faculty were still alive.

“Assassination?! Who’s?!”

Glancing around, even though the classroom is empty save for the two of them, Hermione explains in a hushed whisper.

“They tried to kill Professor Merigold over the weekend. Luckily, I was there. I saved her life, Harry. She owes me a life debt now.”

Reeling, Harry finds himself trying to process Hermione’s words. It’s hard though, because he’s currently having to reconcile everything she’s saying. For starters, he never intended for Hermione to be put in danger. Sure, they were effectively involved in a shadow war with the Lodge of Sorceresses, but it was all supposed to be politics and influence. Not… not assassinations! More than that though…

“They? They who?! Who would even try to kill her?”

Hermione bites her lower lip, teasing it between her teeth for a moment.

“… I think Triss would be better suited to explain that Harry. Its very… complicated. I can have her meet us anywhere. Just name the place.”

For a split second, Harry wonders if Hermione has been turned. Is this all a trap? Have they gotten to her? But as he looks at her, he feels like he’s being paranoid. She doesn’t show any signs of being under any sort of magical charm or anything like that. And he doesn’t think she’s lying to him either. It’s all a bit crazy, but that’s what he gets for running off to France he supposes. Things happened, as Hermione had thoroughly understated it.

“… Fine. Room of Requirement, as soon as dinner is over. Bring her, Hermione. I want to know what’s going on.”

“Don’t worry, Harry. This is good for us. I’m fine, I wasn’t injured at all.”

He slowly nods, even as they begin making their way out of the classroom and towards the Great Hall for dinner. His mind is racing, going a mile per minute. He should have been thinking about the Delacour Matriarch and his upcoming meeting with her, but now this was happening it seemed… if it wasn’t one thing, it was another, Harry supposed.

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Triss Merigold, the Hogwarts Charm Professor, is absolutely nothing like her predecessor. Not that that was saying much when her predecessor was a part-goblin wizard. Harry had never had any problems with Professor Flitwick. He’d always seemed like a good sort. Luckily, even with the Lodge of Sorceresses’ machinations pushing out the previous Hogwarts Faculty, Harry had heard Filius had landed on his feet.

Apparently, the diminutive wizard had been quite the Dueling Champion before he took up his post at Hogwarts. In the wake of his dismissal, Filius Flitwick had returned to his roots and last Harry had read in the paper, he was making quite the tear across the European Dueling Circuit. Honestly, Harry wished him all the best in that regard.

Meanwhile, Triss Merigold was… well, she was beautiful to start. Vibrant red hair, emerald green eyes just like Harry’s. He’d have wondered if they were related if not for his mother’s status as a muggleborn. On top of that, his mother and Triss had two different shades of red. But the eyes… the eyes are very similar.

Staring into those eyes now as the Charms Professor stands there in the Room of Requirement after being escorted in by Hermione, Harry frowns.

“Hermione tells me that you can explain the events of the weekend better than she can. So please, how exactly did it come to pass that someone tried to kill you and Hermione had to save you? How did you come to owe my friend a life debt… and who the hell would want to kill you in the first place?”

Because yes, while Harry very much wanted to know who wanted Triss Merigold dead, he had also had more time over dinner to process what Hermione had told him. Like the fact that Merigold now owed her a life debt. He hadn’t really registered that when Hermione first said it. But that was big. VERY big.

Glancing between Harry and Hermione, Triss smiles weakly.

“W-Well… I suppose you know more than we thought. Did you send Ms. Granger to keep me company, Lord Potter? Here I thought I was reeling her in, but she was the one getting close to me for you, wasn’t she?”

Calling him by his political title instead of the one afforded to him by his position here at Hogwarts was clearly a deliberate choice. And yet, while she’s making some harsh accusations, her tone doesn’t sound that accusatory. Instead, she sounds almost defeated.

“… Yes. I sent Hermione to get close to you. Not that that seems to matter much now. Someone is out to get you, and we’re all you have.”

Triss lets out an amused huff at that, crossing her arms over her chest for a moment before seeming to think better of it and uncrossing them.

“You’re more right than you know, Lord Potter. And it does matter, actually. Because Hermione Granger saved my life. And if she was only there on your orders, that means you saved my life as well. The life debt I owe is shared between the two of you.”

Harry’s eyes go wide at that, even as he feels magic SING at Triss’ words. Upon her recognition of the part he inadvertently played in her survival, he feels a bond snap into place between them. An actual magical life debt. The thing he’d managed to dodge back in the day between him and a much younger Gabrielle Delacour. Now here he was, tied to Triss Merigold alongside Hermione.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, except that… well, Triss clearly wanted it this way. From what he knew about magical life debts, there was a certain degree of… acceptance involved. It wasn’t just enough to save someone’s life, though that could easily start it. But the one who was saved had to be immensely grateful and accept the debt in the process.

Harry could easily imagine Triss in the heat of the moment accepting her life debt to Hermione wholeheartedly in the midst of the adrenaline brought on by the assassination attempt on her life. However, for her to accept that the life debt was shared with him as well here and now, well that was fully her decision. He hadn’t even suggested it before she’d gone and done it.

Her smile wan as she looks between them both, Triss Merigold clasps her hands together in front of her.

“I hope now that you’ll both believe me when I say I need your help and I’m willing to do anything to get it.”

He definitely believed it. But at the same time…

“Why not go to the Lodge? Aren’t you a member? Shouldn’t they be able to protect you from whoever this enemy is?”

Shaking her head, Triss sighs.

“The answer to that question is one and the same as the answer to your previous question. Who would want me dead? Why don’t I go to the Lodge? Simply, really… it’s because the Lodge is who wants me dead, Lord Potter.”

That sends a jolt through Harry. Trouble in paradise? But then of course. The whole concept of taking out the Lodge’s support bit by bit was predicated on what Andromeda had told him. The Lodge of Sorceresses was not a monolith. They were a politically minded organization made up of witches all looking for power, each in their own way.

Still, to go so far as to have Triss killed…

“You know for certain that they were the ones who sent the assassin after you?”

Triss nods sharply, her lips pulled into a deep frown.

“The man Hermione saved me from is… or rather WAS a known associate of Philippa Eilhart, one of our leaders. Arthur du Vleester, though I don’t expect you to know who he is.”

He didn’t, but Harry could imagine the man was a wizard of some passing talent if he’d made it into the castle in order to make an attempt on Triss’ life. That shouldn’t have been possible with the wards, right? Unless Andromeda was so antagonistic towards the witches of the Lodge that the Headmistress simply didn’t bother including them in the Castle’s protections at this point.

Harry didn’t know for sure, but what he did know was that this was an opportunity. Still, it was also incredibly concerning. Assassination was something of an escalation to say the least.

“… Why would Philippa Eilhart want you dead? What would cause such division in your ranks? You all seemed to be fairly united to me. All of you coming to Hogwarts this year, just to sink your claws into me.”

Triss blinks at that, before letting out a soft laugh.

“Ah, so you don’t know everything just yet. I’m not sure if I should be pleased about that, or worried. Still, it seems I’ll be the one to explain things to you, Lord Potter.”

Harry bristles at her slightly condescending words, but before he can get too upset, he’s taken aback by what Triss does next. The witch was wearing a beautiful gold and teal dress that honestly left little to the imagination to begin with. It showed off quite a bit of her chest and more than what one might normally call cleavage, extending all the way down to her waist where a belt kept the dress cinched shut.

Now, Triss reaches down and undoes that belt, pulling it away and then tugging her dress open the rest of the way. The beautiful red head exposes the rest of her chest to him, even as she shucks the dress off and then moves to take off the skirt under it as well. In short order she’s standing there in nothing but her underwear, specifically a pair of lacy, golden panties and nothing else.

Hermione looks excited, and Harry begins to wonder just what sort of relationship the brunette has cultivated with the Charms Professor. He DID tell her to get close to Triss, to be fair. Still, he wasn’t expecting Triss to in turn be so forward.

“What are you doing?”

Giving him a more… lively smile, Triss walks forward, a strut in her step and a sway to her hips as she makes her way up to him… and drops down to her knees, reaching for his robes.

“This is your preferred method of interacting with witches, is it not Lord Potter? I merely seek to make you feel… more comfortable.”

Harry flushes a little at that. When she put it like that, she made him sound like a horndog damn it! Except, when he thought about it… well, he couldn’t exactly deny it. Before he knows it, Triss has his cock out in her hands and is stroking his member up and down. She looks up at him expectantly, even as Hermione begins to strip a few feet away, seemingly just as eager to get involved.

The thing is, Harry wants answers more than he wants sex at the moment. He just spent an entire weekend fucking three absolutely gorgeous veela witches into multiple stupors, thank you very much. But he supposes there’s no problem mixing business with pleasure. If nothing else, Professor Merigold seems to be VERY grateful for the part he played in Hermione saving her life. Very grateful indeed.

Still, as she wraps her bust around his cock and begins to give him a titjob, Harry considers just how he’s going to have this go. He’s not letting her call the shots, that’s for sure. He’s going to get his answers… even if he has to put her on her back and fuck her silly first to make her talk.

“Ask me anything, Lord Potter. I have no choice but to tell you… everything.”

Her voice breathy and sultry, Triss licks her lips as she gazes up at him with those emerald green eyes of hers.