Yo! I just realized Wrestlemania's in like, three days or something. I don't know if I'm hyped or not. Thank you to all readers so far, and as an extra thanks for all your kind words, this chapter's a bit longer than usual. Hope it's alright!

The following days passed by surprisingly quickly, everyone so focused on all the new speculation and rumours going around, that no one really paid much attention to anything else, preferring to gossip instead.

Fudge and Umbridge were dead, killed by You-Know-Who; Lucius Malfoy was now the Minister of Magic, even though he was a pretty big jerk-a sexy jerk, but still a jerk; Dumbledore was a child abuse supporting necromancer; the new History of Magic professor was a total hunk, and said professor and Harry Potter had wild and passionate sex every night. (Harry couldn't stop blushing ever time he heard that last one, Hermione couldn't stop grinning, and Ron and Ginny couldn't stop fainting.)

Still, that new article in the Daily Prophet had abruptly brought all the doubt back to where it had been a few weeks ago. In light of that, Dumbledore had once again begun eating his meals in his office, avoiding the Great Hall as he'd been doing before.

Harry didn't understand any of this. If Dumbledore was worried about all these accusations, why wasn't he saying or doing anything about it? Why was he hiding away? And why exactly had he knowingly hired Voldemort to teach history in the first place? Was it just because he wasn't teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts? Harry supposed that made sense. Sort of. Okay, not really...

Harry was laying on a large bed in an even larger room, with his wrists bound to the wooden headboard, a soft cloth over his eyes, blocking his vision. He may not have been able to see or touch, but he had plenty of other senses to help leave him an absolutely incoherent mess. ...Much to the pleasure of the man above him.

Cool but sure fingers ran down his bare chest, passing over his nipples teasingly, before sliding back up and pinching them lightly, causing the teen to release a gasp of surprise.

"What would you like me to do, Harry?" asked the man.

"N-ngh, touch me!"

"I already am." The smile was clear in his voice. "You need to be more specific than that, Little Serpent."

Harry groaned, blushing furiously. The man chuckled deeply, his fingers trailing up to Harry's warm cheeks. He cupped them gently, and bent down, his lips hovering over Harry's own for a long, agonizing moment.

Harry couldn't see the man, but he could feel him over him. Unable to take it, it was Harry who moved first, lifting his head and pressing his lips to the man's. There was another low chuckle, and the man cupped the teen's jaw, coaxing him to part his lips, before kissing him firmly.

Harry strained against his bonds, wanting to get free and touch the man, his moans and gasps being swallowed the moment they left him. He squeaked suddenly, feeling long, cool fingers around his cock, giving it a sharp tug.

"Is this what you want, Harry? Is this where you want me to touch you?"

"Y-yes!" Harry's hips bucked up into the hand. "M-more, please! Marvolo!"

There was a heavy sounding thump, followed by laughter, and Hermione woke with a gasp, jolting up in bed.

"Oops, sorry Hermione!" giggled two people in unison as they left the room.

The bushy haired witch lowered back down with a sigh. She wasn't sure she had hated Lavender and Parvati more than she did now. Dammit, if only there was a way to preserve dreams beyond just writing them down! Reading over them was hardly as good as seeing them again!

Suddenly, Hermione grinned a grin that couldn't possibly mean anything good for whoever it was she was thinking of right now...


Harry yawned. He was seated at Gryffindor Table, trying to choke down breakfast while Ron devoured everything in front of him, getting food everywhere, and Ginny made terrible attempts at flirting with him. Too bad Ginny wasn't Bill, or Fred, or George. Those wandering hands would have been far more interesting otherwise.

"Harry!" Hermione slid onto the bench on Harry's other side, finally drawing his attention away from the two redheads.

Green eyes narrowed as Harry was suddenly filled with dread. Something in the girl's expression was freaking him out, big time. "Er-morning, Hermione," he greeted rather cautiously.

The witch grinned. "I had a very interesting dream last night!" And before Harry could say anything, she leaned in closer to him and began whispering into his ear, both of them completely missing the scowls on Ron and Ginny's faces, that had Neville stiffening and cautiously bringing his wand out under the table-just in case...

Up at the Staff Table meanwhile, the professors were in the middle of breakfast as well. Oddly enough, there were more empty seats than usual here. Dumbledore's throne like chair was barren, as was normal now, but, stranger than that, both Professors Black and Bright's chairs were vacated too. Those two were not known to miss meals like this.

Where were they? Had something happened to them? Not even the professors knew, as Minerva got a snarky answer from Severus when she asked him if he knew anything about it.

Just as she wondered whether Potter, perhaps, knew where his godfather and, er, lover were, Minerva's gaze was drawn to the teen in question. His eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed, while beside him, Granger grinned and patted him on the back as she poured herself some coffee with her free hand. Minerva didn't know what the two were talking about, but Granger looked quite smug indeed.

"Those brats had better not be plotting something," muttered Severus, his own dark eyes locked on the two Gryffindors, a scowl on his face.

Minerva merely bit back a smile and sigh, and got to her feet. It was time for classes to begin...


Harry and his classmates walked into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom a few minutes later, only to come to a stop in the doorway. Sirius Black was nowhere to be found. Instead-

"Professor Bright?"

Leo, standing by the large desk at the front of the room, turned around and greeted the group with a smile. "Come in, all of you. Please take your seats so we may begin the lesson."

Exchanging confused, questioning glances, the students did as told, though Harry did so with a puzzled frown.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked curiously.

"We have traded positions," replied Leo simply, going through the rolls of parchment on the desk.

"Traded...positions?" Harry looked at Ron, Hermione, and Neville, all three of them shrugging, clearly as bewildered as he was.

"Yes. From today on, Professor Black will be teaching History of Magic, and I, Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Everyone looked around at one another, completely and utterly baffled.

"Why?" asked Harry.

Leo looked up from the sheet of parchment he had been pursuing, and locked gazes with Harry, chestnut eyes boring into his emerald, and smirked, evidently pleased with himself. "He lost a bet."

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