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“Evening, Professor Umbridge,” said Harry, entering Umbridge’s office for another evening’s detention.

“Well, good evening, Mr. Potter,” said Umbridge in that annoying girlish voice of hers.

“Professor?” said Harry, taking a step toward Umrbidge’s desk.

“Yes?” she said, her face lighting up with anticipation. Apparently, she expected Harry to ask her to alleviate his punishment.

“Do you find me manly?”

Umbridge’s protuberant eyes bulged even more than usual.

“Excuse me?”

“I asked you if you find me manly, Professor. I really want your opinion.”

“Is this your idea of a joke, Mr. Potter?” Umbridge hissed dangerously.

“Not at all, Professor,” said Harry. “I’m deadly serious.” He looked it, too.

“Well,” said Umbridge after eyeing him suspiciously for a few seconds, “if you must know, no, I don’t find you manly, Mr. Potter. You are pale, and skinny, and diminutive. You look a bit like Filch’s cat, actually. Now, if that answers your question – ”

“How about now?” asked Harry, hurriedly pulling off his robes and revealing his naked torso. His muscles, although far from bulging, were well-defined, and his skin was very smooth.

“What do you think you are doing, Mr. Potter?!” shrieked Umbridge.

“I’m trying to change your opinion, Professor,” said Harry, approaching Umbridge’s desk. “Well?” he demanded, flexing his muscles and then turning so she could admire him from behind.

“Mr. Potter, you have just earned another week of detentions,” said Umbridge in a somewhat jerky voice.

“But you haven’t answered my question, Professor,” said Harry, turning back to Umbridge and leaning toward her across the desk, an impish glint in his eye.

“I still don’t find you manly, Mr. Potter,” snarled Umbridge. “Now get dressed at once!”

Harry straightened up, walked around Umbridge’s desk with a springing gait until he was facing her, grabbed her hand and pressed it against the bulge between his legs.

“And now?” he asked.

Umbridge gulped. She could feel the bulge swelling beneath her hand, which was suddenly very sweaty. A long-forgotten warmth began spreading between her own legs. Harry smirked as her grip tightened on his throbbing erection.

“It’s…it’s huge,” she whispered.

“Well, maybe not huge,” Harry said modestly, “but from what I’ve seen in the showers, it’s the biggest in my year.”

Umbridge found that she had trouble breathing.

“Don’t you want to see it?” inquired Harry.

“S-see it?” stammered Umbridge.

“Of course,” said Harry, motioning at his fly. With trembling hands Umrbidge undid Harry’s trousers, and they fell to the floor, releasing his member. Umbridge, who had never seen a male reproductive organ in her life, let alone such a fine specimen, stared at it, transfixed, her hands still suspended in midair.

“So, do you find me manly now?” asked Harry.

Unable to speak, Umbridge nodded slightly.

“Good,” said Harry. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I do this…”

Bending down, he cupped Umbridge’s chin with his left hand and covered her mouth with his, his right hand finding her breast and squeezing it. Umbridge’s arms fell limply to her sides; she felt like jelly. Part of her was horrified at what was going on, but she was powerless to stop it. Harry’s tongue was now almost in her throat, his hands doing unspeakable – but very pleasant – things in various regions of her body.

“I think it’s time to move to the couch,” breathed Harry, finally breaking the kiss. Without waiting for a response, he lifted Umbridge in the air by her armpits and carried her over to the said couch. Laying her down, he pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes, pointed it at her and said, “Evanesco!” Umbridge’s clothes vanished, revealing her body that looked as though it was made of dough. Smiling, Harry cast the wand aside, and the next thing Umbridge knew, his head was between her legs.

“OOOHHHHHH!” she cried as his tongue touched the sensitive spot that had seen much use in her school days – from her own fingers, for no other person would even come close to thinking of touching it. But Harry Potter was not just any person. He was the Boy Who Could Love, and in that field, he was peerless. Umbridge could attest to that as his tongue sent surges of pleasure through her plump, flabby body.

“AAAHHHHHH!!” she yelled as her orgasm – the first of the many to come that night – ripped through her. It was so strong that she blacked out – for how long, she didn’t know. When she regained her senses, the first thing she saw was Harry Potter’s face directly above hers.

“Why are you doing this?” she heard herself asking.

“Dumbledore told me that sometimes a little love can do wonders to a person,” said Harry with a smile. “And your personality could definitely do with some improvement.”

“Then improve me…Harry,” whispered Umbridge.

“You needn’t even ask, Dolores,” said Harry.

And, as the kittens on the plates adorning the walls covered their eyes with their paws, Harry thrust his non-magical, but equally important wand into her…

Albus Dumbledore happened to be passing Umbridge’s office at the moment and heard the squeals and moans issuing from behind the door. The corners of his moustache quivered.

“Well done, my young apprentice,” he murmured as he continued down the corridor.