Novel & Cerita Harry Potter Professor Of Potions

What I saw made my whole body freeze. It wasn’t a woman. Professor Kai was with another man, a tall, lean figure with dark hair—pinned against the desk. Professor Kai’s hands gripped the man’s hips, pulling him closer with each thrust. The other man’s face was turned away, but his gasps were unmistakable, his fingers gripping the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. My breath hitched. Professor Kai is Gay!?

Every other thing would fade into nothingness whenever she was in the room. I distracted myself with my phone, and I scrolled aimlessly through TikTok. I soon got engrossed, and I didn't notice when the class quietened down until a deep voice that commanded attention said: “Good morning, 2025 Freshmen, welcome to ***** College. I'm Professor Stephan King, your lecturer for IHS 101: History of the unknown world.” I looked up, and my world tilted over in the most horrible way possible. Because standing on the podium and introducing himself as the lecturer of the most important course in our 100 level was the man I hooked up with yesterday, the one I rode with reckless abandon.

Moments Later [Rina P.O.V] The Potion Alchemy labs were humid. Smelling of sulfur, crushed nightshade, and the bitter tang of failed ambitions. Row after row of black iron cauldrons simmered under watchful eyes of stone gargoyles perched in the rafters. "Basic oil-burning today, class." Professor Hexton droned. Voice dry as the parchment he clutched. "Stable temperatures. No flair. No explosions." I didn't look up. Already busy at my station. Blue flame beneath my cauldron hissing. On the surface, distilling standard lavender and rosemary oils. Beneath that shimmering floral layer, the real work was happening.

"He doesn't usually do that. In fact, he hasn't, except once about 400 years ago....Consider yourself very lucky... and blessed." Vaerion flickered the chandelier lights as if to say damn right she is. The headmaster turned more serious then, his gaze sharp but kind. "How were your first classes?" "I actually love them," I admitted. "Even the creepy spellcasting dude who hates godbloods couldn't ruin it." His lips twitched. "Ah yes... Professor Thornhall. A necessary evil, I'm afraid." Aster snorted behind me. "Necessary perv is more like it."

“Our first lecture will be in the next ten minutes, you should revise princess in case of questions.” I turned to him, then nodded. Julian flashed in my mind, when he used to be my professor at Clarefield. Now he left his field for his girlfriend’s department. Sirena seems to have won now. I took a heavy breath. Raising my head up from my thoughts, I watched the professor walk with. My eyes lingered nowhere above his legs then returned to my book. We were having philosophy. “Settle down everyone—“

I yelled in frustration, turning on my heels sharply as I walked towards him. Professor Faren had his own lecture hall where he taught his pupils the subtle mysteries of magic or some students called it the magic theory. He taught the history of magic, simple magic all the way up to complex battle magic. From what I could tell, he was a very serious person and didn't like his students missing a word of his lectures.

Taking a moment to compose ourselves, we whispered the incantation in unison and pointed our wands at the unsuspecting professor. "Rhyme-Rite, Rhyme-Rite, with a sprinkle of fun, Make his words dance, make his speech overrun. Professor Darking, prepare for the twist, Rhyme every word, let hilarity persist!" In an instant, a wave of magical energy swept through the room, engulfing Professor Darking. His words transformed into rhythmic verses, and his sentences began to rhyme with ridiculous ease. "Good day, students," Professor Darking began, a bewildered expression on his face. "Today's topic is potions, but instead of notions, let's talk about lotions!"

Not because she didn't know what was in the bag, but because she could see that she was shaking violently. The platinum-blonde-haired witch tried to compose herself and calmly explain why she was there. "As you know, Bianca, my sister, Dhara, and I are witches. However, each of us has a gift of our own. As for me, I am a potions master..." "Like Severus Snape?" cut in Bianca, suddenly excited. "Who?" asked Dhara and Darya in the same voice. Bianca quickly put a hand to her lips before clearing her throat in an attempt to quell the embarrassed laughter that ran through her. She thought hard, "Oh my God, Bianca! Did you seriously just quote a Harry Potter character to real witches?!"

“Don’t.” I wish she could talk to me about it, but we’re in the classroom, and the professor might arrive at any time. But, just as I anticipated, a loud, clearing throat resounds across the classroom. Everyone shuts their mouths, followed by a deadly silence. Our attention gets drawn to the front, where a sophisticated, sexy, and attractive young professor in a black shirt and pants stands by the grand piano. He now has a pair of black-framed glasses on. The most awaited man has finally arrived. “Good morning. I’m Professor Julian Sebastian...”

I can see each muscle as she flexes, her calves high and tight as she balances on her four-inch heels. Just as I am sure one more step will make me fall over dead, the professor makes one last turn before stopping before a solid wood door. On a brass placard placed at about eye level, the word with the name 'Dr. Delilah M Davis is engraved. The number 225 is listed just above it with smaller, matching bras. Pulling a key from an inner jacket pocket, she jams it into the lock, twists, and with a quiet little click it swings open. Without saying a word, Professor Davis disappears inside.