A Fortuitous Arrangement Ch. 9 (Old Chapter Unlocked For All Patrons) (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Collars, Spanking, Cum Play, Teasing, Creampie, Quickie.

Harry smiled lazily as he poked open an eye. He turned in bed, his smile growing at the sight of the rumpled blankets in the empty space next to him. Susan, it seemed, had decided on an early start to the day. He patted the nightstand next to him until he located his glasses. Once they were firmly jammed on his nose he sat up and looked around to locate Susan until his attention shifted to the sound of running water coming through the half-open door of their bathroom.

It had been a week since Hogwarts started and a week since Professor McGonagall had given him and Susan their own place to live.

Having their own apartment was… different. At first, he’d thought it wouldn’t be anything new. After all, he had spent four years sharing a dormitory with four other men, one of whom was Ronald Weasley. But he had quickly come to realize that sharing a living space with his wife was nothing like sharing one with his slightly lazy best friend.

For one, the sights are much better, Harry thought with a grin as he spied Susan walking out of the bathroom. She had one towel wrapped around her curvy frame and another around her fiery hair. 

“Do I still have shampoo in my hair?” Susan asked, going cross-eyed as she tried to follow Harry’s gaze to the hair piled on her head.

“Nope.”

“Then why are you staring?” Susan asked shyly.

“Does a man need an excuse to stare at his very beautiful wife?” Harry pushed himself off the bed, his smile growing as he padded over to her. “Good morning,” he whispered and bent to capture her lips.

Susan groaned and pressed her palms against his bare chest, gently pushing him away.

“You stink,” she teased. She leaned in and pecked his cheek, pulling away with a happy smile. “And it’s nearly nine. I let you sleep in but we’re running late for classes now.”

Harry pouted but didn’t protest. It was his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class and he fully intended to obey Sirius and Madame Bones’ instructions not to provoke Umbridge unnecessarily. Which meant going to her class on time and keeping quiet while he was there, no matter what the vile woman said. 

“Fine. I’ll go shower.”

Susan watched her shirtless husband slip around her and lazily stretch as he walked into the bathroom. It was the perfect opportunity to shamelessly ogle the sinewy muscles of his shoulders. She bit her lip as her eyes traced the scars that littered the tanned skin of his back, feeling something awaken deep in her core.

“A week is too bloody long,” Susan muttered to herself. She pressed her thighs together, sighing happily as every step she took towards the ottoman placed in front of the vanity sent a spike of pleasure racing up her spine. 

She hadn’t spent the entire week celibate by choice. A part of her almost regretted coming back to Hogwarts. The pressure of preparing for their OWLs, Harry’s daily Quidditch practices, and the need to make their apartment livable meant that everything else, including their relationship, had taken a backseat.

That wouldn’t be the case anymore, Susan decided. She smiled at the sound of Harry singing happily in the shower. Her legs parted and her hand slipped between her thick thighs, her body seemingly having a mind of its own.

There’d always be something. Exams, politics… then there was the specter of inevitable war on the horizon. They’d only get through it if they had each other.

She pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her quiet mewls as her fingers played with her damp folds, Harry’s atrocious but adorable singing transporting her back to the happy summer days they had spent together in Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

                                                                            ---

Harry walked out of their bedroom, running a towel through his still-damp hair. He grinned at the sight of Susan dashing around the kitchen. The redhead was humming happily as she managed pans on three different stoves in between setting two plates on the small dining table. They rarely ate in the Great Hall anymore, visiting it only when they wanted to spend time with their friends. He’d told her she didn’t have to cook every day but taking care of him was something she enjoyed doing and he found no reason to take that away from her. 

“It smells delicious,” Harry whispered. He abandoned the towel on a chair and padded over to his wife. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

“Harry!” Susan giggled and smacked his hand away, stopping him from picking up scrambled eggs straight from the pan. “I haven’t seasoned them yet.”

“Still smells delicious,” Harry whispered. He slowly kissed down her neck, his lips dragging along her creamy skin until he buried his face in the crook of her neck and clamped down on her pulse point. His hands moved in two different directions. One gently pushed between her thighs, the other moving to rest on her chest.

Susan bit her lip to stifle a needy groan. 

“B-breakfast,” she gasped even as she spread her legs to let his hand probe deeper.

Harry pulled his hand away from her chest for a brief second to turn off all the stoves. “It’s not going anywhere,” he whispered. His hand slipped under her skirt and he pushed it between her parted legs, his fingers ghosting over the creamy skin of her thighs.

“Someone taught me that it’s improper to fuck on an empty stomach,” Susan said primly. There was a light smattering of pink on her freckled cheeks. 

“But you’re so wet, Susie,” Harry whispered as his fingers brushed against the damp spot on Susan’s panties. He lazily licked the massive hickey he had left on her neck, causing her to mewl and squirm helplessly in his arms. “Leaving you in this state is much more improper,” he teased breathlessly. 

The tightness in his pants was getting worse with every passing second but he ignored it for the time being. The slowly growing tent in his crotch pushed against her and Susan gasped quietly as she felt her husband’s throbbing manhood sink into the soft embrace of her ass. 

“Why are you so wet?” Harry asked teasingly. He continued to caress her lips over her panties, causing the cloth to gently rub against her folds. Every stroke created barely perceptible friction and before long her pussy was dripping. The damp spot on her panties grew until the cloth was completely soaked and a few trickles escaped from it, running down her thighs. 

“I… I don’t know,” Susan lied. He didn’t know what she had done. There was no way he had heard her!

“Liar,” Harry hissed. He pulled his hand away from her chest and dug it into the pocket of his trousers, ignoring her needy whine. He pulled out his wand and summoned her basilisk skin collar with a quiet Accio. 

“Who are you lying to?” he asked in a whisper as the collar wrapped around her slender neck.

Susan shivered in his arms, instantly regretting her decision. 

“Y-you, sir,” she admitted quietly.

“And who am I?” Harry asked in a low growl. He pushed her against the kitchen counter, pinning her between his body and the marble counter. He rested his wand on her chest and stroked her tie with its tip. 

“My husband,” Susan whispered, her voice trembling with suppressed excitement. “My love, my master,” Susan moaned as Harry’s fingers pushed her knickers aside and teased her slick lips. 

“And you lied to me?”

“I’m sorry!” Susan moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. She was his. Why was she even trying to fight it?

“I’m going to spank you before bed tonight. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Susan whispered.

“Yes, husband.”

“Yes, husband,” Susan repeated obediently.

“Good girl,” Harry whispered fondly. He grinned and changed the animal on her tie before dropping his wand onto the counter. “Let’s try that again. Why are you wet, Susan?”

“Because I touched myself, sir,” Susan admitted with burning cheeks. 

“When?”

“While you were in the shower.”

“Tell me what you imagined,” Harry ordered. He fumbled with the button of his trousers for a few moments before he managed to slip it free. He pushed his pants and boxers down his legs and let them pool around his ankles, sighing in relief as his manhood sprung free.

“Sir!” Susan whined, her blush deepening.

“Was it more or less exciting than me fucking you on every flat surface in this apartment?” Harry asked. He wrapped his hand around the base of his shaft and guided its tip to her dripping folds. He didn’t bother to flip her skirt up, nor did he pull her panties down her legs. He simply kept the cotton knickers pushed to one side. His tip gently split her lips apart as his thick girth sunk into the soft embrace of her tight pussy. 

“S-sir?!” Susan moaned, her knees buckling. Her walls fluttered and immediately clamped down on his shaft. They gently massaged his length as it impaled her. She could feel him deep in her belly. A squirt of arousal leaked out of her and coated his length, easing his way into her.

“You heard me,” Harry growled. He bent her over the counter, pinning her against the cold black marble. He freed her hair and buried his hand in her fiery curls. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged on it playfully.

Susan moaned at the gentle sting. The pain combined with the dull ache and fullness in her core pushed her deep into Subspace and she playfully wriggled her ass when Harry pulled her flush against his chest.

“Every surface?” she asked breathlessly. Her vision was blurred but she looked at her surroundings and giggled breathlessly. “There are a lot of them.”

“I’m sure we can manage one of them every day,” Harry murmured. He groaned as he was fully sheathed inside her, his tip brushing against her G-spot with every slight movement. His hand emerged from her skirt and shifted to her chest. He lazily pinched the stiff nub poking through her blouse and twisted it, enjoying the needy mewls that escaped Susan’s parted lips.

“Do it again,” Harry growled. He began to piston in and out of her as fast as he could. Susan’s moans and the sound of his balls smacking against her thighs with every thrust echoed around the room.

Smack. SMACK. SMACK!

“Sir?!”

“Touch yourself. I want to watch,” Harry ordered through gritted teeth. His balls were already tightening. She was too tight, her fluttering walls too good at their job for him to hold on for too long at this pace. 

Susan pushed a trembling hand between her legs. Her fingers brushed against the thick cock slamming into her and she moaned loudly as they began to massage her clit. The gentle stimulation to the sensitive nub caused a gush of arousal to leak out of her. Thick trails ran down her legs and drops of her arousal splashed into the rapidly growing puddle on the stone floor with loud PLOPS.

“You’re not going to change your clothes until I see you again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re going to be a good… fuck… you’re going to be a good girl and attend all your classes with my cum in you.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Can I fill you with my seed, Susie?”

“YES, SIR!” Susan screamed. Her lips parted into a silent scream as the unexpected orgasm robbed her lungs of air. Her body trembled violently as she tumbled over the edge, her pussy squirting all over and around the cock pistoning in and out of her. Her walls clamped down on Harry’s shaft in a vice-like grip.

“Oh, god!” Harry groaned as he sank into the velvet embrace of her tight pussy and exploded before he could even comprehend what was happening. Her fluttering walls kept him trapped as he painted them with ropes of thick, warm cum, filling her with his seed.

He let her collapse onto the marble counter, his arms too weak to support her anymore. He took a second to catch his breath before pulling out of her. 

“There,” he whispered hoarsely, quickly pushing her panties back in place once he had pulled out to make sure his cum didn’t run down her legs.

“Was I good?” Susan asked shyly. She smiled happily, her eyes still closed.

“You were perfect,” Harry murmured. He stepped away from her and playfully smacked her ass. “I’m going to wake up early tomorrow so we can squeeze in two rounds before breakfast.”

“Two?!”

“Two seems less, doesn’t it? How about three?” Harry asked teasingly.

“I can barely walk after one, sir,” Susan admitted with a tired giggle. She sighed happily as Harry pulled her into his arms and got to work on her uniform. It was then that she finally noticed what he had done to her tie.

“Is that… is that a lion on my tie?!”

“Just marking my territory, love. I don’t like the way Ernie looks at you,” he whispered. 

“He’s just a friend. I’m your wife,” Susan reminded him, giggling at the playful kisses Harry was pressing into her hair.

“And the lion will remind him of that fact.”

Susan gasped as she felt a mixture of her arousal and his seed leak out of her, only to be trapped in place by her panties. She shifted and wriggled but it only spread his cum around. Her panties were drenched. The inside of her thighs and her pussy were coated with his cum. 

“Everything alright?”

Susan’s blush deepened but she nodded silently. She turned and buried her face in his chest, trying to concentrate on the fingers buried in her hair instead of her cum-stained labia. 

The clock above the fireplace in the living room chimed just as Harry finished securing Susan’s long hair into a single braid. 

“Shit!” Susan swore, her pink cheeks turning darker when she looked up and realized Harry was looking at her with an amused smile. She was unfortunately still deep in Subspace and Harry’s hands in her hair weren’t helping matters. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to swear, sir,” she mumbled apologetically. She raised herself on her toes and pecked her husband’s lips. “But I am really, really late. My Herbology class starts at nine!”

“It is nine,” Harry murmured, glancing at the clock.

“Exactly! Do you mind taking breakfast from the stove? You need to season the eggs,” Susan reminded him, slipping out from between the counter and Harry. 

“Not at all, love. What about you?” 

“I always have a few bites while cooking,” Susan admitted with a sheepish smile. She adopted a stern expression and placed her hands on her hips, keeping her gaze locked on Harry as she walked backward out of the kitchen. “Do not go without eating. You can’t handle that vile woman on an empty stomach,” Susan said as she dashed to pick up her bag from the couch in their living room. 

“Yes ma’am.”

“And can you give the invitations on the table to Hermione, Ron, and Daphne please?”

“Invitations? For what?”

“Dinner party! We are hosting one tonight!” Susan answered, already halfway out the door. 

Harry waited until the door slammed shut before breaking out into a happy grin. He stepped out of his pants and boxers and walked back to their bedroom to quickly clean the mess he had made. Once clean, he walked back to the kitchen and got dressed before dumping the food in the pans on the stove onto a plate.

He didn’t bother with the dining table, instead deciding to eat right where he stood. 

“Right. Salt and pepper,” he muttered once he had taken a bite of the eggs. Once the eggs were adequately seasoned he shoveled them and the bacon into his mouth, polishing the plate clean within minutes.

Old habits die hard, he thought as he walked over to the sink to wash the plate. He had to wonder if he’d ever be free of the trauma the Dursleys had inflicted on him.

“Maybe in a year or two,” he murmured, glancing at the huge amount of food still on the stove. Susan cooked enough food to feed an army. He smiled and emptied it into containers, placing them in the enchanted fridge in their kitchen. The tall appliance was eerily similar to a Muggle fridge, with the only difference being that it was powered by charged runes instead of electricity. 

He retrieved his own bag from the bedroom and nearly walked out of the apartment before remembering Susan’s last request. He dashed inside and grabbed the three pink envelopes lying on the table. Each was addressed to a different person in Susan’s neat handwriting. 

Once they were secure in his bag he ran out of the apartment, making sure to shut the door behind him. The golden doorknob glowed for a brief second as the wards engaged and locked the door automatically. He made his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the fifth floor, knowing he didn’t have enough time to meet Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall and would have to catch up with them in the classroom. 

“Hey, Daphne.” Harry waved his hand and smiled, greeting the blonde Slytherin walking down the fifth-floor corridor by herself. She was in uniform but her sweater was tied around her waist. Her green-and-silver tie loosely hung from her neck and the top button of her blouse was undone. Her skirt was slightly shorter than normal and her white socks went up to her thighs instead of ending just below her knees. Her entire appearance was one of carefully cultivated disobedience but Harry didn’t know if that was accidental or on purpose. 

“Potter,” Daphne drawled. She slowed down to let Harry catch up with her. 

“Don’t do that. You sound like Malfoy,” Harry teased.

“Compare me to Malfoy again and you’ll be divorced and alone by tonight.”

“Susan loves me too much to leave me over a little teasing. Why would she divorce me?”

“Because I’ll chop off your balls with a rusty butter knife, Harry. And I’ve heard the wife really wants a family.” 

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes. Every single person in the castle knew that Daphne Greengrass did not make idle threats but he had come to realize that her bark was worse than her bite, especially when it came to her friends. 

If someone had told him he’d be friends with Daphne Greengrass at the start of the year, he’d have called them mental. 

“Well, there’s one very important distinction between you and Malfoy. You’re a nice person.”

“You take that back,” Daphne growled.

“Or what?”

“I’ll-”

“Chop off my balls with a rusty knife?” Harry finished for her, his lips twitching. “Well, you’ll get a chance to do it at tonight’s dinner party. It’ll make for some interesting pre-dinner entertainment,” Harry said. He pulled out the invitation addressed to her and held it out.

“What dinner party?”

“No clue. Susan told me she’s hosting one tonight and asked me to give this to you.”

Daphne plucked the invitation from his fingers.

Everyone they passed stared at them as they walked down the corridor but Daphne’s reputation meant that no one dared to actually comment on the strange sight. 

“Don’t you think it’s sad?”

“What’s sad about a dinner party?” Harry asked with a frown. To his knowledge, it was how Purebloods preferred to socialize. “Too cool for one, Greengrass? You don’t have to attend if you don’t want to but don’t insult Susie’s efforts,” he said coldly.

“Not the party, idiot. That’s a wonderful idea. It might actually force you to talk to more than two people in this castle. I meant the staring.”

“Oh.” Harry suddenly felt very foolish. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m not. I don’t like people looking at us like we’re exotic creatures from a faraway land just because we’re from different houses.”

“Not just any two Houses. Gryffindor and Slytherin. Walking together and having a civil conversation,” Harry reminded her softly. “Do you remember the last time that happened?”

“I don’t. But if my Gryffindor mum can have a happy marriage with my Slytherin father I’m sure we can swing a civil conversation, Potter.” Daphne pulled the golden invitation from the envelope and quickly scanned it. “Your wife wants me to bring someone from Slytherin with me. Says she doesn’t know anyone else in Slytherin but wants to make more friends. Has anyone told you she’s sickeningly sweet?” Daphne asked as they walked inside the noisy classroom. 

“She’s perfect,” Harry said with a fond smile. His mind pulled him back to his morning encounter with Susan and his eyes glazed over as he replayed the memory in his mind.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Daphne muttered, rolling her eyes. “See you tonight, Potter. Tell Susan I’ll bring the wine.”

Harry watched her walk over and sit on the desk next to Tracey Davis. The short brunette glanced back at him and grinned before saying something that transformed Daphne’s smirk into a scowl. 

“What was that about?” Ron asked once Harry sat down in the empty seat next to him.

Harry ignored him. He pulled his book and wand out of his bag and arranged them on his desk before looking around. All the desks were now occupied but there was no sign of their new professor. Hermione was on his left, on the desk by the window. Her nose was buried in her copy of their assigned textbook and she appeared oblivious to what was going on around her. 

“Harry?” Ron pressed again.

“Just a chat, Ron.”

“With her?”

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asked tersely. Maybe Daphne had a point. As fun as their rivalry with Slytherin sometimes seemed (especially in Quidditch) it had to border on stupid if people thought it was a bloody crime to talk to someone from the other house. “She’s Susan’s friend,” Harry said shortly.

He considered Daphne his friend too but one glance at Ron’s red face and the pulsing vein on his temple told him his friend wasn’t ready to know that just yet.

“Mione.” Harry dug out the invitations from his bag and placed Hermione’s on her desk. “That’s for you. Ron, this one's for you,” he said as he handed the remaining envelope to the redhead. 

“An invitation? What for?” Hermione asked.

“A dinner party. Susan is hosting one tonight. I don’t know anything else. That’s all she told me.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Will she be there too?” Ron asked, glaring at Daphne.

“Yes, Ron,” Harry sighed. “And I expect you to be on your best behavior. I don’t want Susan’s party ruined because you decided to pick a fight with Daphne.”

“It won’t be much of a fight,” Hermione muttered under her breath.

She was right but that was another thing Harry knew he could never tell Ron. He doubted his best friend’s prickly ego could handle being demolished by a few lazy flicks of Daphne’s wand. 

“You don’t have to come if you’re uncomfortable with Daphne’s presence,” Harry offered. “We can hang out some other time.”

“You spend all your time with Susan,” Ron muttered moodily. “You spent half the summer locked in your room with her and now you have your own apartment. Not even Prefects get that.” 

“That’s what happens when someone is newly married,” Hermione hissed angrily before Harry could respond. “I know the idea of romance is foreign to you Ronald but maybe you’ll understand why Harry wants to spend every waking minute with Susan if you ever find a woman stupid enough to marry a man who has the emotional range of a teaspoon!”

Harry frowned at the outburst. It was clear something had happened between his best friends but before he had a chance to question either of them a woman dressed in the most violent shades of pink walked into the classroom with a simpering smile plastered on her face.

“Hem, hem,” Umbridge coughed delicately once she had adjusted the pink hat on her head. When she saw it had no effect she coughed again, louder this time. She kept staring at the students with an unnerving gaze until everyone had settled down and turned their attention towards her. 

“My name is Dolores Umbridge. You will all address me as Professor Umbridge. You will all receive detention for a week.”

Every single student in the class except Harry, Daphne, and Hermione burst out into protest. 

“Two weeks,” Umbridge said calmly, appearing utterly unfazed by the angry expressions in front of her. “I do not permit talking in my classroom. Nobody is allowed to open their mouths unless I call on them.” 

Harry grabbed Ron’s arm and pulled him back when he tried to get up and protest.

Hermione decided to try something different. She raised her hand and kept it up until Umbridge relented and turned to her with a scowl.

“Yes, Miss?” Umbridge asked tersely.

“Granger, ma’am. Hermione Granger.”

“Well, Miss Granger? Do you have an actual question or do you just like to waste everyone’s time with useless information?”

“Sorry, professor,” Hermione replied with a level of politeness that Harry couldn’t help but admire. Her entire body was tense and she clenched her fists on her legs under the desk, almost as if she was physically restraining herself from picking up the woman in front of them and tossing her out of the nearest window. “How will we cast spells if we are not to speak? Can you please clarify your rule? Is it only limited to conversations with other students?”

“Aren’t you a little Miss Know-It-All,” Umbridge sneered.

“The Miss Know-It-All is smarter than everyone in this room put together,” Harry said loudly, unable to bear the way Hermione shrunk into her seat. They had all teased her about being a Know-It-All and a teacher’s pet at least once during their time in Hogwarts but there was something distinctly mean-spirited about the way Umbridge had said it. It almost felt like she knew it would unnerve Hermione and had carefully chosen those words for that précise reason. “And she has a point.”

He smiled benignly at the pink toad who was stomping towards him, ignoring Hermione’s glare. What he found more interesting was the look Daphne was giving him. It was half pity and half… amused frustration?

“Mister Potter,” Umbridge hissed. Her façade shattered and the smile disappeared. Her entire face was as red as a tomato and she was breathing heavily when she came to a halt in front of his desk.

It’s LORD Potter to you, woman, Harry thought. He returned her stare without flinching, refusing to back down.

“Miss Umbridge,” Harry answered coolly. He didn’t bother to get up from his desk. 

“Professor.”

“While I admit I was first in the only Defense Against the Dark Arts exam this class has taken, I wouldn't presume to know enough about the subject to teach anyone,” Harry responded cheerfully. Hermione stared at him with a horrified expression but Daphne cracked a smile and that gave him courage to continue. “But I am happy to give tips to anyone who wants them, including you. Maybe we can start with a simple lesson on recognizing the presence of dementors?”

“You overstep, Mister Potter,” Umbridge growled. She was breathing so heavily that her panting was audible to everyone in the classroom.

“It was just a suggestion,” Harry replied politely. He hadn’t walked into the classroom intending to undermine her authority. He hadn’t intended to speak at all during the class but her disgusting behavior had warranted an intervention. Picking on him was one thing but trying to bully those he loved was absolutely unacceptable

“Detention for a month, Mister Potter!”

Harry smiled and shrugged. 

Umbridge’s eyes flared and she raised her wand but paused and collected herself the minute Ron growled quietly. She looked around the classroom and realized that everyone was staring at her.

“Let that be a lesson to every single person in this classroom who thinks they are special and can flout the rules with impunity,” she growled as she pulled away from Harry. She made her way to the front of the classroom, glaring at everyone she passed. “You will learn to respect authority in this classroom! You will learn to obey! Do you understand?”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” the entire class parroted together. 

Harry reached out and squeezed Hermione’s hand, waving away her attempts to talk to him. 

“Very well.” She turned around, the simpering smile plastered on her face again. “Now, you will put away your wands. You will not need them in my class.”

Hermione raised her hand again.

Umbridge ignored her. Harry and Ron copied her, with Ron going as far as waving his arm as violently as he could. She ignored them all until Daphne sighed and lifted her hand, with Tracey following suit.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Umbridge muttered, her face turning red again. A vein throbbed in her forehead. It was clear that she had lost control of her classroom before the class had even started.

“How will we learn Defense Against the Dark Arts if we put away our wands, professor? None of us know wandless magic. I’ve heard even Aurors struggle with it.”

“And you think you can compare yourself to an Auror? A filth-” Umbridge paused and took a second to collect herself. “If you cannot respect authority you have no business pursuing a career as an Auror, Miss Granger. Learning to respect my authority will be your first lesson in my classroom. PUT AWAY YOUR WANDS!”

“She’s mental, mate,” Ron muttered.

“That she is,” Harry murmured. Ron’s words were an inconvenient reminder of Madame Bones’ warning. He decided not to antagonize the woman further and silently slipped his wand into his bag.

“Good,” Umbridge said once there were no wands visible. “Now, turn to page one of your textbooks and start reading the first lesson. There will be no talking and no. more. questions!”

Notes:

I really love the idea of Umbridge not as a nuisance but as a secondary antagonist. We know she is evil enough for it, she can cast a patronus while wearing a horcrux! So she, while not as talented or as dangerous as Voldemort, is definitely as evil as him. More dangerous too, because she is very talented at hiding it at first. Daphne can take care of herself but Harry is going to have his work cut out trying to keep Hermione and himself, and especially Susan safe from Dolores Umbridge.