Bag of Depravity
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Professor Potter: Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2024-12-31 23:21:20 +0000 UTCA/N: Happy New Years!
Chapter 6
Dining In
“Mmm!” Harry moaned, shutting his eyes from pure pleasure.
“You like that?” Rosmerta asked.
He nodded quickly, not trusting himself to speak.
“Well, keep chewing. It only gets better.”
Harry opened his eyes, finishing the bite of steak he’d just taken. With everything else that had been on his mind, this was somehow the first proper meal he’d had since getting pulled away from his lunch at Gabbie’s Grease Shack. Although as much as he loved that homie diner, he had to admit, Rosmerta had their food beat.
The bartender had brought out her best dishes, stacking the table for two with perfect cuts of medium rare steak accompanied by heavy sides of potatoes, gravy, asparagus, and even bread rolls. Everytime he bit into something new the tastes only got better, and that was without even talking about the wine.
Rosmerta sat smirking as she watched him eat. Her own plate had only been picked at, but despite the effort that obviously went into this meal, she seemed to get more pleasure out of seeing him eat than eating herself.
“It’s been a long time since anybody was disappointed by my cooking,” she admitted. “Have as much as you want. It won’t run out.”
Harry looked up, barely managing to swallow down his latest bite in time to answer. “I could kiss you right now.”
“Well keep eating then,” said Rosmerta. “We’ll see if we can’t get that upgraded a little further.”
Harry actually paused his eating, before slowly starting up again. Well. At least it was good to see his first impressions about tonight hadn’t been off-base.
“The last thing I want to do is come off as ungrateful,” he said between bites, “but I feel like I have to ask. You’re trying this hard for me, and we met yesterday. What’d I do to get things moving this fast?”
“Other than single-handedly disabling a bar fight without hurting a single person?” Rosmerta asked.
“They were young. I just talked them down a little bit.”
“Please,” Rosmerta said flatly. “That trick you pulled with the glass? I wouldn’t even think of casting something like that. But as impressive as that kind of competency can be…. That’s not what got this old girl excited.”
“Oh?” Harry asked.
Rosmerta leaned forward. The view it offered down her shirt was frankly delightful, but Harry hardly looked, too concerned with the almost ravenous way she was eyeing him up, as if he was an even more prime cut of steak than the one on the table.
“You called it just a little bit of talking, but I don’t think there was anything small about it. You took bigoted insults and twisted them around, turning it into something to be proud of on the spot! Anybody with a wand can win a duel. But if you really want to beat these idiots spreading hate through our world… You have to be able to out-talk them. Just look at last night.”
Harry accepted her point. He could be wrong about this, but going off many years of experience as an Auror, if a proper duel had broken out last night then the other patrons would’ve ducked for cover. One or two might’ve helped with a few spells. But at the end of the day, it wouldn’t have looked anything like the way all of them came to his aid to clean up the glass.
People remembered duels only long enough to tell the story. Words could win them over in a much more serious way, one that could last a lot longer.
“I try,” he told Rosmerta honestly.
“Oh, I can tell.” She rubbed two fingers along the table, trailing them back toward her cleavage, still bared from the position of her upper body. “I just hope that extends to all pursuits.”
Harry gulped, cutting up the last of his steak with a bit more urgency. It was starting to seem like, if he wasn’t careful, he wasn’t going to get the chance to finish.
Finish the steak, of course. From the look Rosmerta was currently giving him, he wasn’t going to have much of a choice about finishing the other way.
Not that he was complaining. He glanced down at her cleavage, using the lull in conversation to look to his heart’s content. No, he was definitely not complaining.
Rosmerta watched him finish his meal while sipping off her glass of wine. A smile never left her face, seeming to grow larger the longer they sat there.
“Did you get the job?” she asked eventually.
“Somehow,” Harry said.
“Please. You talk like you're not the best candidate ever.”
“This may shock you, but I’ve never actually taught anybody anything,” Harry admitted. “Never even took Muggle Studies as a class. I spent the better part of the day today staring at documents and doing a whole lot of nothing.”
But Rosmerta just shrugged, her chest bouncing delightfully as she did.
“All that can be learned a lot more easily than the kind of wisdom you showed,” she said.
Harry flashed her a grateful smile, draining the last of his wine and wiping his face with a napkin.
“That was delightful,” he said. “The meal, and the conversation.”
Rosmerta’s smile shrunk slightly. “You’re talking like you’re leaving…”
“Oh, no!” he said. “I just wanted to get that out of the way now, because I don’t imagine we’ll be talking much for the rest of the night.”
Abruptly, gravity lost its hold on Rosmerta. She let out a shout of surprise as she floated up, making a grab for the table but finding nothing to latch onto. As she hovered in the air, Harry stood and stretched, carefully removing his coat and laying it over the back of the chair.
“I know it looks ratty,” he said when he turned to Rosmerta, “but this hunk of buttons has been with me through a lot, so I’d rather not get it unduly dirty.”
Rosmerta just shivered at the implication.
Her airborne body floated over to the bar, which quickly cleared itself and began to sparkle as charms cleaned it better than an hour’s effort with a rag. Harry canceled the Levitation Charm, letting her drop booty-first onto the glistening wood. Rosmerta grunted, but was oriented and eager by the time Harry strode up to her, slotting himself between her legs (which promptly wrapped around his backside).
“I should warn you if I’m spending the night: I’m an early riser,” he said.
“With all due respect, I’m a lot more concerned about how long it stays hard,” Rosmerta said.
She rubbed a hand up his thigh from below, cupping it under his balls and giving them the softest of squeezes. By now, Harry’s trousers had become awfully tight, bulging out in the crotch region. He just smiled as Rosmerta’s hand continued sliding up, quickly undoing his button to pop open the straining fabric.
She continued rubbing him with her soft fingers, sliding them through the triangular opening to touch the smoother fabric of his boxers. Her fingertips danced around his length, feeling it out with a series of expeditionary movements.
“It doesn’t bite,” Harry teased.
Rosmerta leaned forward, her blue eyes looking up into his with a sultry glimmer. “Don’t rush me. We aren’t the kids I have to deal with all the time. Adults like us… We know how to take our time, don’t we?”
Proving her point, Harry leaned in slowly, taking multiple seconds to bridge the small gap between their lips. Rosmerta did the same, her fingers flitting around his barely-sheathed member the whole while.
She was incredibly soft. It was the first thing he noticed, from her delicate lips to her upper back, the way his arms just sunk in as he wrapped them around her. Her bust pressed into his chest, flattening slightly against his harder body. Their tongues danced, slipping from his mouth to hers and back again. Rosmerta’s legs tightened around him, reminding that retreat wasn’t an option.
Instead of pulling away, Harry leaned his weight gradually forward. Rosmerta’s body tilted back. They kept leaning and shifting together until her back was flat on the bar’s wood.
For the first time since the kissing started, their lips separated slightly. Rosmerta was still fondling his swollen crotch through the cotton of his boxers.
“It feels like some things are starting to get in our way,” Harry said.
Abruptly, his and Rosmerta’s clothes split down the front. His shirt, his pants, her dress, their underwear— all of them cut open and slid off their bodies as if they had a mind of their own. With one wave of Harry’s hand they repaired themselves flawlessly, and even folded into neat stacks that promptly fluttered onto the floor.
Without clothes holding it back, his erection bobbed free, bouncing against Rosmerta’s crotch.
“What happened to taking our time? Rosmerta gasped.
Harry leaned forward, wrapping his hand around her wrists and pinning them against the bar above her head.
“I plan to take plenty of time with this part,” he said.
With her arms held above her head and her back against the stiff surface, Rosmerta’s bare breasts were propped forward as far as they would go— which was impressively far. Not only were they excellently sized, they had near-perfect shape, perky and protruding. Harry bent his head forward, sinking his teeth into each lovely mound one at a time.
At the same time his hand pressed against her womanhood. He deftly slid his middle and ring fingers inside with one practiced motion. Rosmerta’s lovely voice exclaimed as she writhed under his touch.
Harry squeezed her wrists, holding them together even more tightly. Each part of Rosmerta’s pleasure was feeding into the others. When Harry gripped her wrists tighter she reflexively clenched her thighs, driving his fingers deeper inside of her. When his fingers hit her most sensitive parts, her whole body would shake slightly, causing her breasts to bounce and jut up, leaving them totally at the mercy of Harry’s teeth and tongue. All it took was one bite of her areola for her to flex her wrists— something that only served to remind her of his powerful grip on them.
As he worked, Harry felt his erection straining to nearly painful proportions, but he refused to give into it. It was like Rosmerta said. There was pleasure in taking things slow.
In the spirit of that, he slowed his fingers down as they rooted through Rosmerta’s damp folds. The barmaid whimpered and looked at him with almost soulful eyes, thinking he was stopping. But that was the last thing Harry was interested in.
He continued working her body no less skillfully, but the slower pace staved off her orgasm. He brought her body to its climax gradually. He let her sense what was coming, let her wait long enough to want it, and only then delivered.
When Rosmerta’s thighs constricted around his hand, signaling the eruption was on its way, Harry ended with a bang. His fingers grinded ferociously against her clit. As she gasped, he bit her breasts hard enough to leave his jaw sore. His fingers turned vice-like around wrists. Rosmerta’s moans turned into a full-throated scream.
After tensing, her body relaxed. Harry pulled his hands away— one glistening with a fresh sheen from her juices, and the other leaving behind red lines around the circumference of her wrists. Rosmerta’s pale chest was dotted all over with bright red bite marks and purpling bruises. She had a goofy smile on her lips. The slightly dazed look in her eyes lasted only as long as it took for them to drift down, though.
“Oh my!” she giggled, staring down at his stiff, swollen, twitching member. “I’ve been a bad host! How can I leave a guest in such a state?”
With a succession of squeaking sounds, she turned her body around on the bar, spinning so that her head was hanging off it in front of Harry, still on her back but now with his cock looming above her gorgeous face.
Rosmerta stared up, cross-eyed, as she tried to estimate the full-size of the dick hovering in front of her.
“Be honest, Honey,” she said. “Did you hit it with an engorgement charm?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Harry said. “Though I did have some very motivated fangirls back in the day. One of them could’ve slipped one on without me noticing.
“No,” Rosmerta disagreed, frowning as she furthered her inspection. “I’ve seen the spells students cast. This thing is too perfect to be one of those.”
“Thank you.”
“Honey, I should be the one thanking you.”
Rosmerta darted her head forward. Harry groaned as she took his balls in her mouth, caressing them even more gently than fingers could have. Her lips popped off of them a moment later. With her head upside-down, she opened up her mouth as wide as it would go.
“Come on,” she urged a moment later, when Harry hesitated. “I promise, I can take it.”
Harry’s hesitation snapped. He lined his cock head up with those puffy lips and thrusted forward, burying himself in Rosmerta’s gullet. Her eyes bulged out as raspy and wet noise echoed out, but Harry was already pulling back and thrusting again. Despite a visible bulge appearing along Rosmerta’s neck, she managed to suction her lips, squeezing his cock tightly as she attempted to wring it of its milky prize.
“Hulck! Hulck! Hulck!”
Harry’s eyes rolled up slightly in his head as he listened to Rosmerta gag. The guttural sounds filled the entire restaurant, bouncing off the windows. If anyone was walking by, Harry was certain they would’ve been able to hear Rosmerta’s abused throat even through the walls.
Despite the beating she was taking, and without quieting down at all, Rosmerta grabbed his wrists. She pulled his hands, planting them on her breasts. Harry squeezed reflexively. Her breasts turned into handles, letting him thrust into her even faster.
Her tongue slid along his shaft as his length stabbed through her. His balls audibly slapped against the bridge of her nose. His hands gripped her breasts tightly enough that they were sure to leave behind bright red marks in their shape. Rosmerta’s tongue danced up, managing to scrape along the slit of his cock as it thrusted through her. That one little trick proved to be the straw that broke the Thestral’s back.
“I’m cumming!” Harry grunted.
Rosmerta just gurgled. His hips clapped forward a final time, spraying his load at the deepest point in her throat.
Harry exhaled gradually as the tension in his crotch alleviated. His balls twitched as he spewed one spurt, then a second, then a third. Rosmerta’s eyes bugged out as he pulled himself out of her throat, and she jerked up coughing, red in the face.
Harry wrapped an arm around her lithe shoulders as she convulsed, hacking into the crook of her elbow.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “Should we stop?”
Still coughing, Rosmerta looked at him like he was crazy. By the time she had her breath back, she had already slid around, planting her feet back on the floor. She left her upper body on the bar, propped up on her wonderful bust. As she strained up on her toes, arching her back, she faced Harry with her curvaceous ass and sopping shaven pussy.
“Treat this pussy like it’s my throat,” she said. “Don’t even let it breathe.”
Chuckling, Harry did exactly that as the fire in his loins reignited.
Rosmerta grunted fiercely as she took his length. The position offered her nowhere to run, battering the fronts of her gushy thighs against the bar’s stiff wood. Harry reached out, collecting a handful of her golden hair in his hand as he rammed her. He didn’t yank it, just held on, his grip pulling lightly at her scalp.
At the same time, he gave her ass a good smack, watching it jiggle. Rosmerta’s voice rose without a care in the world, reacting wildly to his touch and the feeling of him inside of her.
“Careful,” Harry teased. “You’ll wake the neighbors.”
Rosmerta turned her head to look back at him, her hair still gathered in one of his hands.
“Do you know how often I have to listen to people going at it in my rooms?” she asked. “Not just everyday, it’s multiple times a day! I’m perfectly happy to let other people listen to me for once!”
Harry grinned, adding a bit of upward motion to his thrusts, temporarily lifting her toes off the ground each time their hips made contact. Rosmerta groaned, laying her still-turned head flat on the bar, resting on one cheek as he ravished her.
Talk of students reminded Harry of his own times at the Three Broomsticks. He knew firsthand how many Hogwarts boys’ first crushes weren’t classmates at all, but the sultry barmaid dressed for extra tips down in Hogsmeade. Even Ron had barely been able to pull his eyes off Rosmerta whenever they paid the Three Broomsticks a visit, something Hermione was always more than happy to call him on.
Harry never would’ve guessed he’d get the chance to not just see Rosmerta beneath her sheer clothes, but actually fuck her like this. In this time period they were almost the same age even, allowing him to appreciate her beauty in a whole new way. She epitomized the word curvy, with her wide ass, slim hips, and wonderful bust. Even the spots on her body with pockets of fat, around her sides and the lower back, were a turn-on if anything. It left her well-cushioned, perfect for his hips to crash violently into without doing any real damage.
“You’re wonderful,” Harry said.
Rosmerta glanced back at him, her cheek still down on the bar, pure passion in her gaze.
Something about that exchange pushed Harry to his limit. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, accepting his fate. Before he could hit his biological limit, he made the decision to go out with a bang.
His hips sped up, and the sudden change sent Rosmerta over the precipice. He felt her orgasm brush his cock while her walls constricted. Harry’s own oncoming orgasm drew nearer. Harry grinded his teeth. His hips crashed against Rosmerta’s cushioned backside nine more times — he counted — before he was forced to pull out.
His swollen cock sprayed out a white shower that arced out and landed across Rosmerta’s lower back, collecting in the divots above her butt. Both of them gasped to get their breath back, Rosmerta still shaking from the aftereffects of her orgasm. The smile on her face was one of pure satisfaction.
Harry vanished his semen with a wave of his hand, and unless he was imagining things, the sensation of his magic sent another short shiver through Rosmerta. When she felt his cock rub against her, still hard, her eyes widened.
“You know, I’ve always wondered if your personal room looks different from the guest rooms,” Harry said casually. “Maybe you just pick an empty room, and sleep there for the night.”
“I kept the best room for myself!” Rosmerta objected in a tired voice.
Harry’s eyes glittered. “Prove it.”
To get her up the stairs, he ended up having to carry her. Rosmerta didn’t mind one bit.
O-O-O
When Harry’s eyes opened, he couldn’t help but groan softly. The first rays of sunlight were slipping under the blinds. Rosmerta snuggled against his chest while he lay there, knowing for a fact he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep, even though it had only been about four hours since they finally turned in for the night. There was a reason he didn’t usually stay up late.
Harry extricated himself from under Rosmerta, charming the blanket to leap up and stiffen in the shape of him so that the naked blond wouldn’t notice his absence. He even added a warming charm, watching with a smile as Rosmerta nuzzled his replacement.
Charms were no substitute for a proper shower, but they would have to do this morning. Harry cleaned himself up with his wand, returned to the bottom floor, and re-dressed. Early starts to the day were a habit he first developed with the Dursleys, and one that was drilled back into him during his time as an Auror. It was fantastic for productivity. Not so much for mental health.
He borrowed Rosmerta’s kitchen, fixing eggs and bacon, eating by himself at one of the tables. Rosmerta was still sleeping by the time he finished. He hit her portion with a preservation charm, scrawled a note and a thank you, and slipped outside.
Hogsmeade was still sleepy so early in the morning. Harry’s chief company was cheerfully singing birds as he walked to the castle. It gave him time to ponder his most immediate problem again: he had no idea how to teach.
The solution he came up with was shockingly simple. When he reached the castle, he began climbing staircases toward the Headmaster’s Office.
He knew for a fact that Albus was as early a riser as he was. And who better to ask for tips than the Headmaster himself? McGonagall would be as knowledgeable, but he got the feeling she was already in a foul mood about his lack of experience without him going and rubbing it in her face.
“Hocus Pocus,” Harry stated when he reached the stone gargoyle, which slid aside immediately. As he climbed the steps, Harry raised his hand to knock, only for the door to open before he could.
Harry found himself face-to-face with what he thought, for a solid five seconds, had to be some kind of mirror, because he was certain that he was looking at himself.
But this man’s glasses were different. He was dressed in fancy robes, while Harry was in his usual Muggle coat. Above all, this man’s eyes weren’t green. They were a dark hazel.
Instead of settling down, the hammering of Harry’s heart sped up.
“Ah. Just the man I was hoping for.” Deeper into the office, Dumbledore appeared, a misleadingly sedate smile on his face. “Since I met this gentleman at the Three Broomsticks, I’ve had the strongest urge to introduce the two of you. This is James, an associate of mine. And, James, it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to Hogwarts’s newest hire, Professor Potter.”
Great pleasure seemed to be the last thing James Potter was experiencing. While Harry was still stuck gaping, he scowled, summarizing his thoughts succinctly:
“Who the fuck are you?” he growled.
