Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Professor Monroe	By : Athey1024 Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 15724 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 25
Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Harry observed that Maximilian had been correct about the hour getting late. There weren't any Hogwarts students left in the streets as far as he could tell, and the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“I meant to ask earlier, but, well, obviously things got side-tracked,” Maximilian began and smirked down at Harry, causing him to blush again, “but I was wondering what sorts of steps have been taken so far in your godfather's defense. You mentioned that the idea of pursuing a writ of habeas corpus had only just recently been brought up –“

Harry felt like a lead weight had just fallen abruptly into his gut. He couldn't believe that he'd actually talked about Sirius to his professor like that – he trusted the man, but that was a seriously careless thing to do!

“You can't tell anyone about him!” Harry whispered urgently, looking pleadingly up at his professor beside him.

Maximilian looked surprised for a moment but then his features softened and he nodded. “Don't worry, Harry. Your secret – and your godfather's secret – is safe with me. Personally, I think the entire thing is outrageous. Not only that a man of his social and political standing could have been locked away without a trial, but that even after he escaped and the old case was brought to light, that no one noticed the obvious lack of trial transcripts, or any record at all of a hearing. I understand that there was a state of martial law declared around that time, but the fact that the case was never re-examined is heinous.”

The pair rounded the last of the Hogsmeade storefronts and began the journey through the winding pathway that hugged the edge of the forbidden forest.

“I also find it highly suspect that your godfather has been in some form, under the Headmaster's care for at least the last summer, if not longer, and the venerable man never once suggested habeas corpus as a potential avenue of gaining his freedom. I suppose it's possible that Dumbledore is attempting to avoid appearing involved in any matters that could bring him further in conflict with the Minister. That is one potential explanation, but the fact that your godfather's exoneration would remove you, and your potential political influence from Dumbledore's control, seems too powerful a motive to remain silent, to be completely ignored.

“But even outside of all of those unsettling and questionable potential motives, it also seems highly likely to me that Dumbledore would desire to remain a powerful controlling force in your life simply because of the Prophecy, and not necessarily have anything to do with your political power at all,” Maximilian said with a sigh and a shrug.

Harry stopped in his tracks, frowning in confusion. “Because of what?”

Maximilian stopped and looked back at him blankly. “The Prophecy.”

“What Prophecy?” Harry asked with a mixture of incredulous confusion, and gut wrenching dread.

“You don't know?” Maximilian whispered, his face taking on an ashen look of disbelief. “How can you not know?”

“Not know what?” Harry asked with an even greater sense of dread quickly growing in his chest.

“I cannot believe... it was one thing to think that he was neglecting his duties as your Proxy out of some sort of stubborn hold onto his political stance on the issue, but the idea that he would withhold knowledge of the Prophecy that brought about so much of your suffering... it's beyond neglectful, it's just outrageous. Has he been doing nothing to prepare you?”

“What Prophecy!?” Harry asked again, louder and with considerably more panic now than anything else.

Maximilian's face grew sad and he sighed, shaking his head. “This is just outrageous... look, I'll tell you everything that I know, but this is not the place to do it. Lets get back up to the school. My office is properly warded for privacy.”

Harry hesitated, not liking having the issue put off, but at least there was a promise of answers soon. He nodded and the two returned to their trek up the path in earnest. They passed through the gate about ten minutes later, and it was another ten minute trek from there, across the grounds and up through the castle to the sixth floor where Maximilian's office was located. Harry remained stoically silent the whole way, mulling over things in his head the whole time.

Finally they entered the room and his Professor set about closing the door, and apparently raising privacy wards, while Harry took a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the hearth. Maximilian joined him a moment later, sitting in the chair beside him and looking at Harry with a penetrating gaze for several moments before sighing.

“I don't know all of the details,” he began seriously, “and this is not something that is common knowledge, and I would urge you not to repeat it to anyone else.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly.

“During the winter of 1980, around half a year before you were born, a prophecy was made foretelling the coming of a child that would have the power to 'Vanquish the Dark Lord'. Apparently the details given in the first few lines of the prophecy lead both Voldemort and Dumbledore to identify the child as you.”

He paused and let that rather horribly heavy statement sink in.

Harry, for his part, felt mostly numb. He wondered if his brain had shut down out of shock, and he wasn't sure what was more shocking – the idea that he was somehow supposed to have the power to 'vanquish' Voldemort, or the idea that Dumbledore obviously knew about this and had kept it secret from him.

“Once it was determined that the prophecy was speaking about you, Dumbledore helped your parents go into hiding. From what I understand, they went from one safe-house to another for nearly a year before it became too stressful and daunting a task to continue enduring. It was around that time that Dumbledore suggested the Fidelius spell to put over a single home that they could safely remain in for an extended period of time, rather than constantly running and taking a baby and all of the things a baby needs, with them each move. The story that the press has come to know was that Sirius Black was the Secret Keeper, but you said that wasn't actually the case.”

“No, it was Pettigrew,” Harry said, shaking his head quickly. “Sirius thought he was too obvious and talked my dad into switching at the last minute. But Pettigrew ended up being the spy for Voldemort...” Harry closed his eyes and let his head fall into his hands, propped up on his knees. He couldn't believe this – all this time, he'd been lead to believe that his parents were the ones that Voldemort was targeting. But it had been him.

Maximilian hummed softly and nodded his head. “From what I understand, Voldemort never heard the entire prophecy. He was only able to obtain the first few lines – enough to identify you, and to know that you were apparently a potential threat, but not enough to know the full prophecy. Normally, a sane person, would have put a bit more effort into knowing the whole thing before acting, but Voldemort was hardly sane by that point. Any intelligence or sanity he once held had degraded so horribly over the course of the 70's, that he apparently didn't think twice about simply running out and killing you, as soon as he had obtained the secret to your location.”

Harry looked up and his brow furrowed. “Why would it matter if he'd heard the whole prophecy?”

“There's no telling what the whole thing says. It could very well say that your 'power to vanquish him' would only activate if he attacked you first. In which case, it obviously would have been in his interest to not attack you.”

“Oh,” Harry said and blinked. He supposed that did make sense.

“There are those that think that the prophecy may already be fulfilled. It does explicitly say 'vanquish' not kill. Of course, many people are under the delusion that he's already dead, which you know he is not.”

Harry nodded.

“But there are others – and I know that Dumbledore is one of them – that know he is not entirely dead and that he has come back, and feel that the prophecy is not yet fulfilled and that you are still destined, in some way, to fulfill it. What the prophecy might say, aside from your potential power to 'vanquish' Voldemort – I do not know.”

Harry let his face fall back into his hands and let out a frustrated moan. He felt too overwhelmed to even begin to process this.

“So what do I do to find out what it says?” Harry finally asked, looking hopeless and miserable. “Do I have to go to Dumbledore and hope he finally comes clean?”

“No, then he'd want to know how you found out about the Prophecy at all, and I rather doubt he'd be very thrilled if he knew I was the one that told you, since he has obviously been keeping it secret from you.”

Harry scowled darkly, bitterly cursing Dumbledore and his secrets, in his mind. “Then what do I do?”

“Well, as the object of a prophecy, you have the right to request to view it from the Department of Mysteries, Hall of Prophecy. Your solicitor, Mr. Jennings, could set it up for you and keep the whole thing confidential. Only a person that a prophecy is about can go to the Ministry and ask to view it, so you, and you alone, have the right to go and see it. Well... you and Voldemort, but I rather doubt he would have much success if he walked into the Ministry and asked to be taken to the Hall of Prophecies,” Maximilian said with an amused smirk.

“There's a Hall of Prophecies at the Ministry?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Oh yes. Supposedly its a hall filled with row after row after row of thousands of prophecy orbs. The Ministry has been keeping track of Prophecies since before the Ministry was even the Ministry. The Department of Mysteries is run by the Unspeakables, which used to be an independent secret organization that was involved in the investigation and development of rare and powerful magics, and was absorbed shortly after the Ministry was formed. It has roots all the way back to the Seers of Delphi, supposedly.”

“Thousands upon thousands of prophecies?” Harry asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “And they all come true?”

Maximilian laughed softly and shook his head. “Oh, dear no. In fact, that's one of the larger studies that the Unspeakables there keep track of. The reality is that very few of the Prophecies kept there ever actually come to pass. It is simply another sign of Voldemort's unstable and shattered mind at the time when he learned about the Prophecy. Were he in his right might, he likely would have dismissed the entire thing all together. Another problem is many, if not most of the prophecies that do seem to come true tend to be self-fulfilling. If no one believes in them or pursues them, then they never come to pass. It is usually the act of trying to avoid the prophecy that leads to it happening. This case is a prime example, I think.”

“Well, Voldemort was clearly out of his mind, but wouldn't Dumbledore have known better than to believe in the whole thing, then?” Harry asked, feeling horrified.

“Oh, I'm sure he knew better on some level. I wouldn't be surprised if he had intentionally leaked the prophecy to one of Voldemort's spies, because it was Dumbledore that heard the whole Prophecy to begin with – it makes me wonder how a prophecy witnessedonly by one man ever got out to any of Voldemort's people at all – no, I cannot help but wonder if perhaps Dumbledore leaked it on purpose in hopes that Voldemort would act against it, and bring it to pass. He was getting extremely desperate.

“Voldemort was on the cusp of inadvertently destroying everything. He had utterly lost his mind and lost track of the full scale of the consequences that would result from his actions. Had he not been stopped when he was, it was only a matter of time before the muggles would have realized we were here, and that it was magic users who were causing so much death and mayhem. It is unlikely that the muggles would have discerned between two factions of witches and wizards – they would have simply seen all of us as the attacking force, and defended themselves violently. I can only imagine what could have happened, and none of things my mind conjures are good.”

Harry hadn't stopped listening, but his mind had sort of stopped processing things somewhere back there when Maximilian had said that Dumbledore might have intentionally leaked the prophecy that led to Voldemort targeting him, killing his parents, and ruining his whole life, all in the vain hope that Harry might actually, mysteriously, have the power to 'vanquish' Voldemort. He closed his eyes tightly against the despair that was welling up in his chest and he simply let his face rest on his arms, totally hunched over in his seat.

On some level, he could rationally explain away Dumbledore being desperate. He could understand that things were so horrible at the end of the 70's, and so many people were looking to Dumbledore, expecting him to save them, because he'd defeated Grindlewald, and no doubt Dumbledore felt an unimaginable amount of pressure at that... but Harry knew the consequences of those choices because he had been the one to suffer them.

Voldemort never would have targeted Harry if he'd never heard that Prophecy. Harry's parents never would have gone into hiding, and they never would have had to go under the fedelius. Sirius would never have been accused of betraying them, because there would be nothing to betray, and Harry and his parents never would have been attacked. Harry never would have ended up living with the Dursley's – he would have grown up in the magical world with his parents.

But... but what would the wizarding world have been like? Professor Monroe... Maximilian – that was still a bit bewildering for Harry – did have a point. If Voldemort hadn't been blasted away by whatever it was that happened that night, his war would have continued on, and who knows what would have happened then.

But surely it was unreasonable to expect that the only way to defeat Voldemort was Harry. That just seemed ridiculous. Everyone said that Dumbledore was the one person that Voldemort feared the most – surely that fear was founded on something. Why couldn'tDumbledore have just defeated him? Why put that responsibilities on the shoulder of a fifteen-month-old child?

“Harry?” Maximilian's gentle voice spoke from beside him. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

Harry shook his head, still keeping it buried in his arms. He didn't trust himself to say anything. He tried to steady his breathing and stop completely freaking out. Freaking out wasn't going to do him any good.

Finally, after what was probably several very long minutes, during which Professor Monroe had remained sitting in patient silence, Harry turned his head to the side, letting his face peak out from his arms and looking at the man beside him.

“How do you know about the Prophecy?” he croaked out.

“I have several associates who are Unspeakables, working in the Ministry, and I knew people involved in the war back during that time,” Maximilian answered simply.

Harry sort of nodded his head without really removing it from the awkward position. “Do many other people know about it? I mean, it's not common knowledge or something, is it?” Harry didn't think he could take it if he found out that loads of people knew about this and he had still somehow managed to remain ignorant of it.

“No. I suspect that there are very few people who know, actually. In fact, you'll find that those who do know, really only know of it, not what it actually says. The only person, as far as I know, who knows the whole thing, is Dumbledore, because he witnessed it when it was initially being made. And only two people know the partial contents – the first few lines that were leaked – are Voldemort, and the spy who brought it to him from Dumbledore.”

Harry heaved a sign and finally uncurled himself, sitting back in his seat and letting his head fall back, so his face was looking up at the ceiling.

“What do I do?” he asked in a broken whisper. “How do I take this?”

“Well, I see little point in despairing right now,” Maximilian said firmly and Harry let his head lull to the side and glanced pathetically over at the man. “You still do not know what this Prophecy actually says. Until then, you cannot possibly know what is supposedly 'expected' of you, and whether or not you even feel like going along with it. It is your life and your choice. This whole thing is making me incredibly uneasy and disgusted, honestly. The more I look into things, the more unsettled I become.”

Harry's brows furrowed and he sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“You'll remember how I observed, less than a month ago, how it looked as if how you were raised was practically molding you out of clay to consider the welfare of others before you consider the welfare of yourself. Your own, supposedly 'selfish' desires, always take a back seat in your mind, and you feel obligated to put the needs of others first – even if it means sacrificing your own health, safety, and happiness. But that is not true, Harry. It's not! You are not responsible for the world, no matter what some mad soothsayer might have said while in a delusional trance. You have a right to your own wants, your own desires, and your own future, away from the manipulations of an old coot playing an elaborate game of chess.”

Harry gaped at him. He felt just about as confused as he did before, but he had to admit that some part of him felt lighter at the man's words.

“I had thought that Dumbledore would have either been preparing you to take on this destiny that he no doubts wants you to tackle, or he would have at least been preparing you to defend yourself from the madmen who do believe in the prophecy, and would come after you to either save their master, or to please him. Either way, I would have expected you to have been informed, and prepared. Clearly, that isn't part of his plan, which is just ridiculous,” Maximilian exclaimed with obvious disgust.

Harry couldn't help but definitely agree. He even remembered, back at the end of first year, when he'd asked Dumbledore why Voldemort had come after him, and Dumbledore had refused to tell him, 'until he was older'. But even back then, it was blatantly obvious that Harry was already in danger – hell, Voldemort had tried to kill him! Waiting until he was older wasn't going to stop the various forces out there trying to kill Harry. It hadn't stopped the diary or the basilisk, it hadn't stopped the dementors, and it hadn't stopped Barty Crouch Jr. from impersonating his teacher and entering his name in the tournament where he was nearly eaten by a dragon, drowned my grindylows, and torn apart by acromantula and giant blast-ended screwts. And it hadn't stopped Voldemort from abducting him via portkey and stealing his blood for a ritual.

Waiting until Harry was older had only left Harry even more vulnerable and less prepared! All he ever wanted was to just be normal; to fade into the background, like everyone else, and not have all these ridiculous expectations on his shoulders. Was that really so much to ask? But now, it looked like that had never been an option from the beginning. He'd been prophesied to have to fight against Voldemort from before his birth!

“You said that your solicitor proposed emancipation?” Maximilian asked and Harry was so thrown by the sudden change that he just blinked at the man blankly for a minute before shaking his head to clear it.

“Er, yeah,” Harry said, finally.

“I think that's a good idea,” Maximilian said seriously. “That man's motives are becoming more and more concerning and questionable. I seriously worry about his intentions with you, as well as his judgment. I don't think he honestly has your best interests at heart, at all. He's in a position where he has to look at the bigger picture, and I fear that in his eyes, you may be little more than a pawn that he would willingly sacrifice at the right time, should his strategy demand it. A person with such lofty responsibilities should not be the one person in the magical world most responsible for keeping you healthy and safe. In his eyes, your safety will always take a backseat to what he sees as the 'Greater Good' and the safety of the many. That may seem noble from an outside perspective, but you are still but a young man and your primary guardian should be looking out for your best interests, first and foremost.”

Harry felt like a vice was clenching his chest, but he also knew that he agreed with the man that Dumbledore probably didn't think that Harry was more important than everyone else – hell, Harry didn't think he was more important than the many. But maybe he should? Maximilian was right – was it really so awful for Harry to be a little selfish? To actually expect to be treated fairly? Like his safety and happiness was just as important as the safety of any other student in the school? Other people had their parents to stand up for their rights and make sure they were being kept safe, but Harry didn't have that. He'd assumed that it was just because the Dursley's never cared, and never would care about him, but he was supposed to have that someone in his Proxy, and that person was Dumbledore. Dumbledore was supposed to be the one standing up for Harry above all else, and it was clear that wasn't the case anymore – and never had been.

Maximilian was right, and it was the biggest reason that Harry had been feeling so devastated by all that he'd been learning about Dumbledore this day, and over the last month. The little things that he'd been learning since the start of term had all unsettled him, but it was what he'd learned this day alone that had nearly crushed Harry with hopeless despair. The realization of just how extensively he'd been used and manipulated by the man he had once so entirely looked up to, had shaken him to the core.

Harry pulled in a deep breath and nodded. “I'll write Mr. Jennings tonight and tell him to get started on whatever needs to happen,” Harry said, sounding slightly hoarse.

“You should get in to view that prophecy as well,” Maximilian said thoughtfully. “I don't personally put stock in the things – I think it's mostly rubbish that only fools follow, and the weak use as excuses for sitting back and letting someone else deal with a problem. But knowing what it says will put you on stronger ground, and might give you some insight into Dumbledore's motives for his treatment of you.”

Harry swallowed and nodded again. He rather hoped that Maximilian was right about the whole prophecy thing being rubbish. Harry knew next to nothing about real prophecies and how often they came true, but he did know what sort of nonsense Trelawney was often spouting out in class, and it was all rubbish as far as Harry was concerned. The idea that Harry supposedly had some sort of super-power to vanquish Voldemort seemed equally insane to Harry. There was nothing all that special about him, at all. He was average in most of his subjects. He was better than most of his peers at Defense, but he was certainly no prodigy. Voldemort was supposed to have been a magical genius. A wizard so powerful that Dumbledore was the only one anyone thought could match him. Harry wouldn’t stand a chance against him!

“I'll mention that to Mr. Jennings while I'm at it,” Harry said finally.

“Did he provide you with a method for secure communications?” Maximilian asked.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. He got me a stack of parchment that's charmed to only let him read it. Said if I ever write anything sensitive to him, to use it.”

“That's good. Do that. It would be bad if Dumbledore were to intercept your letter.”

Harry's blood chilled at the suggestion, bristling at the thought of Dumbledore intercepting his mail. And yet he couldn't quite find it in himself anymore to entirely discount the possibility that Dumbledore might do something like that. Harry was finding that he wasn't sure if he really knew Dumbledore at all. He had thought he understood just what sorts of things Dumbledore would be willing to do and what he wouldn't do out of moral principle, but clearly Harry had been wrong.

Dumbledore had clearly been willing to sacrifice Harry's health and happiness by leaving him to rot at the Dursley's without even checking up on him, for motives that Harry could only speculate about. Either for political power, or because of some prophecy – Harry wasn't sure which he would prefer, honestly. Maybe the truth was a mixture of both. Maybe Dumbledore eased his conscious using the Prophecy as an excuse – saying he was molding Harry to fulfill some sort of destiny to destroy Voldemort, and it just happened to also conveniently provide him with a bunch of extra political power and the ability to push through legislation he backed without ever consulting Harry.

It was all so disorienting and heartbreaking.

Harry heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back into his seat.

“Harry...?”

“Hmm?”

“You look a right mess.”

Harry let out a cynical snort before sighing again, letting his head fall forward and opening his eyes. Maximilian was looking at him with concern in his eyes, and a deep frown marring his handsome features.

He stood up and took a few steps forward until he was standing directly in front of Harry. He seemed to hesitate and reconsider before a small sad smile curled the corner of his lips. He extended his arms, as if offering a hug and raised his eyebrows at Harry, questioningly.

Harry just frowned up at him in confusion, not really getting what was being offered.

“You're obviously incredibly unsettled Harry. I think this might help – and I want to help – but it's up to you if you want accept it,” Maximilian said in explanation.

Harry's eyes widened and his mind suddenly registered the situation. Maximilian was offering to hold him – to touch him. The last time they'd touched the magic had been so intense that they'd ended up on a couch rutting against each other like horny dogs. Harry flushed at the memory and the implications, feeling conflicted. He felt like everything he'd just discovered was far too important to let himself get distracted by his hormones, but on the other hand, his hormones were suddenly very interested in experiencing that magical frequency sharing thing from earlier again. That, and he was also tempted by the prospect of being held by Maximilian again. Part of the whole thing still felt like a dream that couldn't possibly have been real.

Flushing even deeper and swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry hesitantly pushed himself up out of the chair and took a step forward. He hesitated with less than an inch of space between him and his teacher and felt his heart racing and the blood coursing through his veins.

“What, uhm... what should we do?” Harry croaked out, before clearing his throat awkwardly.

Maximilian grinned in gentle amusement.

“Just let me hold you. I'll see if I can gentle the flow of the magic some. I'd like to see if I can control it some and just offer you some comfort.”

“Oh...” Harry said, not sure if he should just be thankful, or be disappointed.

Maximilian was the one to make the move in closing the distance between them. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, letting one card into Harry's hair, while the other rested firmly between Harry's shoulder blades.

The instant they touched Harry felt his whole world narrow down into a single point of focus, and his head rush with power. His skin tingled everywhere, and he felt an overpowering sense of euphoria flood his senses.

“Ooh...” Harry said in with a surprised breathy moan. The first contact had been nearly as intense as it had been earlier that afternoon, but Harry had felt an almost instant dip in power a moment later, like it was being smothered by a warm blanket. It was still there, to some extent, but Harry didn't feel the same overpowering urge to start rutting up against the other man, like he had before. Instead he felt safe. He felt like, for the first time, he could willingly give up control of the insane roller coaster ride that was his life, and let someone else watch out for him – even if only for a few minutes.

Harry sagged fully into Maximilian's arms and found his own arms unconsciously wrap around the man's waist, hugging him tightly – almost desperately. His face buried into the man's shoulder and neck and he pulled in a deep breath through his nose, letting himself relax into the familiar scent. The tension in his shoulders melted away and he felt as if the magic inside him was singing. It was swirling around in him – out of him and through him, into Maximilian and back again – making him warm and dizzy, but it wasn't as overwhelming now as it had been before. It was just good. So good.

Harry sighed, feeling better by the second. “This feels so good,” he breathed out, voicing his thoughts.

“Good barely scratches the surface,” Maximilian said with a breathy laugh. “I have to say, Harry, this was not something I had been expecting to encounter when I decided to come to Hogwarts instead of perusing other options. I'm certainly not complaining though. Quite an unexpected perk,” he let out a chuckle, and carded his fingers through Harry's hair, sending tingles of pleasure shooting through Harry's head.

“It doesn't weird you out?” Harry asked, moving his head so he could look up at the man's face. So much of his mind still felt foggy and he had the strongest urge to curl up and nap with the man, but he fought it, feeling the stronger need to relieve some of his fears regarding whatever it was that was going on between the two of them.

“Weird me out?” Maximilian asked.

“This... thing that's going on with us. You're a lot older than me... and we're both blokes... I just...” Harry trailed off, ducking his head slightly back into the man's shoulder self-consciously.

“Ah, I see,” Maximilian said with an understanding yet also slightly amused sound to his voice. “Come over here,” he said and Harry found himself being directed towards the couch. When they pulled apart slightly, part of Harry reacted subconsciously, tightening his hold on the other man and earning him another chuckle. He flushed, feeling embarrassed for how needy and dependent he was acting, and so irrationally as well, but he couldn't quite force himself to loosen his grip, either.

Maximilian guided the two of them down onto the couch and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder, pulling him up onto his lap. Harry's eyes widened, startled by the position he'd been guided into, and feeling vaguely embarrassed and weird about the whole thing. At the same time, another part of him was stupidly pleased with the arrangement and seemed to be urging him to curl into the man's lap like a cat or something.

As Maximilian's arms both wrapped around him more securely, one going around to rest on his shoulder, and the other going across his lap and resting on his hip, Harry felt his body slowly relaxing, even though his mind was feeling quite befuddled. Soon, however, his mind began to catch up with his body, and he let his head fall comfortably on his professor's shoulder, and allowed his body to fully melt into the embrace. That buzzing heady feeling began to sooth him into a more relaxed state, releasing tension and calming his frazzled nerves.

“That's better,” Maximilian cooed gently. “Now, you asked if I was 'weirded out' I believe, yes?”

Harry hummed and nodded his head lazily, feeling his upper brain functions somewhat diminished as he slipped into the most relaxed, lulled state he could remember ever feeling. Being held by the older wizard was amazing, and that feeling that he could just let everything go and let the other man take care of him began to reassert itself. He wanted to just forget about the rest of the world and let his whole world become nothing but Maximilian and himself.

“The answer is 'no'. I don't find it weird at all,” Maximilian said gently, “but I am quite a bit older than you, so I suppose I've had more time to grow accustomed to my sexual preferences than you have. The age difference doesn't really bother me either – although fifteen is certainly considerably younger than anyone else I've been with – well, since I was fifteen, anyway.”

Harry's head turned up slowly and he blinked at the man through heavy-lidded eyes. “So you're gay?” Harry asked, and his voice sounded somewhat sluggish to his own ears.

Maximilian chuckled. “I have enjoyed the carnal pleasures of both genders, but I do tend to lean more towards men than women.”

“Oh... that's nice,” Harry mumbled, grinning at the 'carnal pleasures' thing. He wouldn't mind enjoying a few more 'carnal pleasures' with his professor right about now, actually...

Harry shifted a bit on the man's lap and felt a more slightly solid bit protruding him in the thigh and was rewarded with a quiet hum of pleasure from the other man as he rubbed against it. Harry giggled, feeling giddy and shifted again, more intentionally now. His head felt light and tingly, and little sparks were starting to dance along his skin.

“You little minx,” Maximilian said with a lusty chuckle. “Are you trying to tempt me?”

Harry's head lulled up and he grinned up at the other man. The world seemed to spin with the movement and he had to blink several times to make things stop moving about. “Oh... I feel a bit... funny,” Harry said, blinking slowly now.

“Good funny, or bad funny?”

“I... don't know. Dizzy, I guess. But good. I like your cock. It feels nice against my leg. I wonder what it would feel like against my bum though,” Harry let out slurred giggle and let his head fall heavily back on the older man's shoulder and began pressing his parted lips against the man's neck. “Hmmm... you taste good too.”

“Harry –“ Maximilian said in a slow whisper as his eyes fell closed. “You're making it very difficult for me to not take advantage of you.”

“But what if I want you to?” Harry said with a pout before resuming his ministrations against the man's neck.

“You're hardly in the proper state of mind to make such statements. You're acting like you're high.”

“High?”

“Like drugs,” Maximilian said with a laugh. “I really need to teach you Occlumency. It seems I can restrain certain aspects from effecting me too strongly, but my control over how it effects you clearly still needs refinement.”

“What's Occlu-whatever?” Harry mumbled against Maximilian's neck as he moved up towards the man's jaw.

“Occlumency is the – oh... Harry, you... you really should stop that.”

“Dun wanna.”

Maximilian laughed. “Of course you don't. Occlumency is a branch of magic that allows you to occlude your mind from foreign intrusion and influence. A person experienced in Occlumency can prevent a skilled Legilimens from accessing their memories, and can resist the influence of a number of mind-altering potions. Love po – oh... oh, right there. Merlin, you have a wicked tongue... Love potions, are usually only partially effective on a skilled Occlumens, and an Occlumens can usually fight against the force of Veritaserum, which is why it's generally not admissible in court. A person could fight the effects, but pretend it's still working and mislead the court. Remember the Fidescio orb I showed you the first week of school? I mentioned that someone who was accomplished with Occlumency could shield their mind so that it remained blank rather than showing if the person was lying or not.”

“Ohh... right,” Harry said distractedly as he began to nibble his way up the man's neck and the bottom of his ear lobe. He was getting the most amazing thrill, seeing the normally perfectly composed man react to what he was doing and hearing the little gasps that escaped his lips every few bites. He also felt the strangest echo of a sensation in the back of his mind, as if he could feel the pleasure himself, but he wasn't sure if he was maybe imagining that.

“I'm using Occlumency to dampen the intensity of how our sharing magic is effecting my perception and decision-making faculties,” Maximilian continued, but his voice was breathier now, and there was that hint of need at the edges.

“And you want me to learn that too?” Harry mumbled as he rhythmically shifted his position in the man's lap to brush his bum back and forth over the growing erection he felt there.”

Maximilian gasped louder this time and made a pleased keening sound of sound for a moment before chuckling breathlessly. “You are quite the little minx, Harry.”

“Is that a good thing?” Harry asked in a breathy tone, looking up at the man through his eyelashes. He was so totally randy. He couldn't get the other man out of his mind, or the memories of the last time the two of them had been on a couch together. It had felt so good. So good, and he wanted more of that. He didn't want to think about how completely fucked up his life was. He didn't want to think about politics and betrayal, and prophecies, or the idea that there were actually people out there that somehow expected him to save the world from Voldemort. And he definitely didn't want to think about the fact that Voldemort was probably still out there, right now, trying to come up with a way to kill Harry, because the man probably still believed in that ridiculous prophecy.

No. Harry wanted to think about the ridged cock thrusting up into his backside, and his own straining erection and the slowly growing well of lust and arousal that was flooding his system. He wanted to think about the magical hum he could feel in his very skin, sending delicious sparks of the most intense pleasure shooting through him at every little touch from the other man. It wasn't like he could really do much thinking anyway with as foggy and dizzy he felt, anyway. His mind felt like it were floating through the clouds, and everything seemed to be simplified into lust, pleasure, and the amazing man beneath him on the couch, and how badly Harry wanted him.

It seemed like the blanket that had been dampening the intensity of the sensations was being pulled back and his head was starting to roar again. Where as before his mind had been slowly lulling into a dizzy haze, he was suddenly sharply aware of the man beneath him. Maximilian was holding him still now, and staring right into his eyes with a penetrating gaze. Harry gasped at the intensity and his arousal spiked.

“Harry,” Maximilian said and his voice was deep and raspy with need, “are you sure?” he panted.

Harry felt breathless but nodded his head quickly. His mind was consumed entirely with his cock and what it wanted – and it wanted whatever Professor Monroe could give him.

“Yes. Please,” Harry begged, leaning in and beginning to press open-mouthed kisses against the older wizard's neck.

Maximilian moaned and Harry suddenly felt his strong hands move down and grab his body, lifting and twisting him around. Harry followed along and the next moment he found himself straddling the man's lap instead of sitting in it. Harry moaned as their cocks lined up and without a moments hesitation found himself enthusiastically rutting up against the man. His hands began pulling at the undershirt again, pulling it out of the trousers and slipping under to explore the man's skin.

He could almost swear it felt even more intense than it had last time. Maybe the fact that he had some idea what was going on now made it all less overwhelming and confusing and instead his mind could just focus on how bloody amazing it felt.

Maximilian's hands wrapped around and grasped Harry's arse powerfully, pulling him down in time with his upwards thrusts, sending explosions through Harry's whole system and whiting out his vision. His head felt like it was going to burst, and all he knew was that he was moaning and crying out, begging for more – begging to come.

One of Maximilian's hands slipped in under his waist band and beneath his pants and palmed Harry's arse bare, and the direct contact sent even more jolts of that delicious magic coursing bewteen them, causing Harry to buck against him with even more enthusiasm. The other hand joined it and he was soon squeezing Harry's pale arse cheeks directly, letting his fingers slide between them and running teasingly along Harry's pucker. Harry screamed out in shock at the jolt that shot through him at the first contact, and he was sure his cock would explode if he didn't come soon. He needed it so badly, and he was so close and so desperate.

“Professor, please... please! Oh... so good. So close. Please... Please... please,” Harry chanted. He just knew that he couldn't cum until the other man said so. His mind didn't even question it.

“Yes, yes, yes... oh... yes love, come for me, Harry... Harry!” Maximilian called out and gave several jerky thrusts upwards. The friction was beyond glorious, and that wonderful peak struck Harry, sending him into spasms against the other man, his back arching and his whole body shaking with the intensity. He felt hot wetness fill his trousers as his cock jerked and and ejected. Harry's whole body was pulsing and twitching as he was hit with wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure. Slowly they settled down into the smallest of ripples, but still he felt himself shaking against the man beneath him, who seemed to be effected with almost equal intensity.

Harry's whole body sagged with relief and bliss. He couldn't remember ever feeling so deliriously good. Well, except for earlier that afternoon. That had been pretty damned amazing too, but this was even better.

Suddenly Maximilian's chest was shaking and dislodging Harry from his comfortable location where he had melted into goo. Harry lifted his overly-heavy head to look at the man curiously. Maximilian broke into light laughter for a minute before it died away into a happy-sounding sigh.

“Well, that wasn't what I had been planning, but I suppose I should have expected it to happen,” he said, still grinning easily.

Harry felt a bit sheepish suddenly, realizing that it really had been his actions that had driven them to end up in this situation – again. His head was a lot clearer now. They were still touching, and he could still feel that powerful buzzing hum, but it was in the background now. Sort of like the purring of a sleeping cat. The magic was sated and resting now... or something.

“Er... sorry,” Harry mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

“Don't be, Harry. Do you feel better, at least?” Maximilian asked, smirking.

“Uh – yes.” Harry deadpanned, earning him a laugh and a swat on the rear from the other man that surprised him into squeaking. Even more surprising though, was how his previously wilted cock twitched at the action.

Maximilian laughed again and lifted Harry up, dislodging him from his lap and standing up. Harry pouted at him, earning nothing more than a smirking grin from the older man who then extended his hand. Harry eyed it cautiously, worried that if he touched the man again, it might start all over again with him totally loosing control over his inhibitions and rutting up against the man again.

Fortunately, that wasn't the case. Harry accepted the hand and felt nothing more than a quiet pleasant hum course up his arm and that sense of safety and security. He sighed in relief and looked sheepishly back up at the man.

Maximilian made a quick gesture with his hand and seemingly out of no where, his wand had appeared in his grasp. Harry had seen this so many times over the last month that it didn't even surprise him anymore, but he still hadn't gotten around to asking him how he did it. Harry's eyes widened suddenly when Maximilian reached down and pulled his trousers away from his waist and aimed his wand down them. Harry felt tingles of the man's magic in the air, but then it was gone and Monroe's wand was once again gone. Harry blinked as the man smoothly re-tucked his shirt into his pants and then looked at Harry with a curious little grin.

“Well, I hope, if nothing else, I've managed to distract you from your distressing discoveries.”

Harry snorted and grinned. “Er, yeah... I'd definitely say I've been thoroughly distracted.”

“Well, good. I don't like to do anything half-way – I prefer a thorough job or nothing at all,” Maximilian said, surprising Harry by stepping forward suddenly and wrapping one arm around Harry's back and pulling him in for a kiss.

Harry moaned in surprise into the other man's mouth, quickly pushing himself up further, trying to deepen the kiss. He failed though, and a moment later Harry was whimpering as the older wizard pulled back, still smirking rather smugly for a moment before his face took on a more serious edge. “Now I'm sure I don't have to explain to you why we'll need to restrain such activities to private, yes?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! I course,” Harry insisted, instantly, nodding his head.

“I cannot treat you any differently in class.”

“Of course not!” Harry said, almost offended by the mere suggestion.

“We have to be vigilante in controlling our behavior towards each other when in public. Ms. Granger already suspects you fancy me, and I know you're not very comfortable with deceiving to your friends.”

Harry blanched. Hermione suspected that Harry fancied Professor Monroe? Hermione suspected that Harry was gay? “What makes you think that Hermione suspects that?” Harry said, his voice on the edge of panic.

Maximilian gave him the sort of look a parent gives a child when they ask a very obvious question and Harry felt like he should feel indignant about that, but mostly he just felt like he'd asked an obvious question.

“I'm afraid, Harry, that you haven't been all that skilled at hiding your feelings.”

Harry flushed. “So er... you noticed it before today?”

Maximilian chuckled. “Um... yes.”

Harry felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole an die, he was so embarrassed.

“Don't be like that, love,” Maximilian said in a gentle, reassuring tone and he came over and gently rubbed Harry's back between his shoulder blades, sending wonderful warm pulses down his spine. Harry's heart jumped into his throat at the use of the endearment. “I've been quite flattered, honestly. It certainly hasn't hurt my ego to know that such an attractive, clever, and resourceful young man, as yourself, found me worthy of his attention.”

“Me?” Harry squawked, “You're the one who's amazing! You're so smart, and clever – I'm not clever! Hermione's clever – you're clever – I'm not clever – and and... and you're just... your handsome and strong, and you make these amazing persuasive arguments that make so much sense! And you're so confident – everything about you; how you walk, how you talk, how you hold yourself in a room of people. You ooze confidence! I could never be like that. You're just amazing! And –“

“Harry,” Maximilian interrupted with gentle amusement and a hand cupping Harry's cheek, “I'm flattered. Beyond flattered. But don't sell yourself short. You are clever. You've got so much potential in you. You so desperately want approval from the adults in your life that you care about, but there's been so few of them, and none truly willing to give you that approval... I can tell that if you had had just one adult around you while growing up that had praised you for academic success you would probably have been top in your class at Hogwarts. Even far outshining Ms. Granger.

“Instead you were only really praised when you you practically killed yourself doing something reckless. You were given enormous quantities of house points for every instance when you nearly died doing something that one of the adults should have manned up and done themselves, instead of leaving it in the hands of a child, but your academic progress has been squashed by a number of pathetic and embittered teachers.”

“That's mad! I could never be as smart as Hermione,” Harry insisted, shaking his head insistently.

“Ms. Granger has book smarts, but she's got so little creativity, and has a hard time seeing beyond what's written in the books she reads and what she's been told by authority figures, but that's where you shine. You put things together with so little directing. There's so much wonderful potential that I can see in you. It just needs a little nurturing. A little encouragement and I know you could outshine anyone else in this school. And you've got this clumsy, youthful sort of confidence that shines when you're not paying attention and too busy to feel self-conscious or consumed by self-doubt. You hide inside yourself so often – trying to sink into the background and go unnoticed, but every now and then I get a glimpse of that powerful young man, just aching to come out and show the world just how amazing he really is, if only they had the proper sense to see it. That is the boy that I've grown so remarkably attached to over the last month.”

Harry stood there, speechless. Part of him wanted to protest that Professor Monroe was wrong and that Harry didn't have any of those redeeming qualities at all, but another part of him was just screaming in joy at the man's glowing words. The idea that Maximilian saw him that way – that he'd been thinking about Harry as more than just one of his students for some time now – it was amazing and made Harry feel all giddy and happy again.

“I don't know what to say,” Harry finally whispered.

“You don't have to say anything,” Maximilian said, leaning in and pressing a small kiss against Harry's forehead before pulling back.

Harry's scar was singing with power and his eyes fell closed for a moment as he tried to get control over his body's reaction to the tiny gesture of affection. He wondered if the dulling sensation that had happened after the two of them finally came was dying away now, because that one touch against his forehead had felt shockingly intense.

“I fear I may have cost you dinner,” Maximilian said suddenly and Harry frowned in confusion. “The meal ended about ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, shoot!”

“Yes, I imagine you're friends are going to be worried as to what happened to you...”

“I – er, yeah. Yeah, they probably will,” Harry said, wracking his brain for what he'd tell Ron and Hermione to explain away his absence all day. He was supposed to meet up with them in Hogsmeade after his meeting with Mr. Jennings, but obviously things had taken an unexpected turn that day.

“Can you mange on your own, or do you need my help coming up with an explaination?”

“Er, I think I can manage,” Harry said slowly. “But um... I should probably go,” Harry said, grimacing with disappointment.

“That's probably for the best. Send that letter to Mr. Jennings. If you have any questions or need any help or advice, I'm here for you whenever you need me. I'll see you Monday morning. Okay?”

“Right. Monday,” Harry said, nodding sort of distractedly, suddenly realizing that he was about to go back into the real world where everyone else thought things were the same as ever, and the world hadn't been turned on it's head.

Harry felt as if so much had happened that day. He'd discovered that he had crazy political power in the Wizengamot, and that Dumbledore might have been using it to pass legislation Harry didn't even agree with, and that he could probably file for emancipation on grounds of Dumbledore neglecting his Proxy responsibilities, combined with how the Ministry had treated him the same way they would an adult, on two different matters of legal significance. And if all that wasn't enough, then he'd found out there was a Prophecyabout him, that Dumbledore had been keeping secret from him, all this time.

The whole world had changed, as far as Harry was concerned, but no one else knew it. No one but Professor Monroe.

“Erm... Thank you, Professor,” Harry said in a soft voice, looking up at the man through his eyelashes.

“It's Maximilian,” Maximilian whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Harry's cheek. The warm breath that feathered over Harry's ear and the side of his face sent shivers through his whole body.

“Maximilian,” Harry echoed in a breathy whisper.

“When we're alone.”

“Right.”

“Good night, Harry. You should get back to your friends.”
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Professor Monroe