Teaser of Harry Potter/Bellatrix Lestrange One Shot

Harry Potter/Bellatrix Lestrange One Shot - You Are a Naughty Teacher

It was still early in the morning in the classroom. Harry sat near the middle of the rows, surrounded by the hum of students whispering to one another in anticipation. Today was Defence Against the Dark Arts class; many male students and some female students were quite eager for the class to start. After all, the teacher was Bellatrix Lestrange.

A whole year had passed since Professor Lupin left this post, and with his infinite wisdom, Dumbledore decided to hire Bellatrix, one of the cruelest witches who fought against Voldemort in the first war. Her cruelty earned her quite a famous name, and she was as famous as Mad-Eye Moody. Many even said that Bellatrix had used one of the curses during the war against many death eaters, but there was never found proof that she had used any of the three forbidden curses, so she was never put into Azkaban. But many theorized that she was never judged because she was too valuable on their side, so they turned a blind eye to her cruelty.

Bellatrix was appointed as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and though she was feared, her beauty was undeniable. It was the kind of beauty that was almost dangerous, like a poisonous flower—dark, elegant, and lethal.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Bellatrix walked in, wearing her robes that did little to hide her beautiful body, wearing a dress that went just a little above her breast with a small cut on the center that showed her cleavage to anyone with eyes. Unlike Professor Garlick, who always wore modest clothes and tried to hide herself, Bellatrix made sure to show everyone her beauty, and since her husband died three years ago, many students in Hogwarts wanted to get into her pants. While Bellatrix was many students' favorites, the same wasn't for one Harry Potter.

Harry always made sure to have the best grades in Hogwarts, his mother always told him to study hard and make his father proud, and he always made sure to be the best; he had good grades on everything, even in Potions, despite Snape being a pain in the ass to everyone who didn't wear green. During the first year, Snape had tried to be cruel to him, but Harry had not allowed that, after standing up against the Professor. Snape had complained to Dumbledore, leading to his mother coming to Dumbledore's office through the Floo Network. Harry had been there and had to see his mother shouting at Snape and promising that she would burn him alive if he dared to even look at Harry the wrong way, cursing him, telling him that despite James's death, he decided to direct his anger towards his son, calling him pathetic. Snape had never again been unfair to him after that day.

But the same couldn't be said for Bellatrix. While she wasn't cruel to him, she didn't try to punish him just because she felt like it, but she tried her hardest not to give him the credit he deserved.

Harry gritted his teeth as Bellatrix sauntered in, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor. She moved confidently, and her lips curled into a cruel smile as she scanned the room. Her black robes billowed behind her, almost as if they had a life of their own.

"Settle down, class," she said, her voice low and laced with danger. "Today, we'll be covering advanced spells. I expect perfection, nothing less."

Harry was more than prepared. He had been practicing for hours in the common room with Hermione, determined to excel in this class, not just for the grade but to prove to Bellatrix that he wasn't intimidated. Despite her reputation and his intense dislike for her, Harry had always been good at Spells. He was confident that today, he would outshine everyone.

Bellatrix's eyes flicked between Hermione, who sat at the front with her quill poised, and Daphne Greengrass, who sat just a few seats to the right of Harry. Daphne, a Slytherin, was quiet but sharp.

"The incantation," Bellatrix purred, pacing in front of the room. "Accio. But of course, many of you think this is simple. Let's see if you can master it under difficult circumstances."

She waved her wand, and objects of varying sizes—books, goblets, even a heavy iron candlestick—floated onto the desks.

"You will summon the heaviest object and control it through a series of obstacles. Failure will result in immediate deduction of house points. Begin."

Harry took a deep breath and flicked his wand with practiced ease. "Accio candlestick," he whispered.

The iron candlestick trembled for a moment before lifting into the air. It was heavier than he expected, but Harry kept his focus. With precise movements of his wand, he guided it around the floating goblets and over the books, keeping his hand steady.

He glanced over and saw Hermione struggling slightly, her candlestick wobbling as she tried to avoid crashing it into a desk. Daphne's was rising, but not as smoothly. Yet Bellatrix's attention never left Hermione and Daphne, her dark eyes gleaming with approval despite their less-than-perfect performances.

Harry's brow furrowed. He was doing better than both of them. His candlestick was already halfway through the obstacle course, and he hadn't made a single error. With a final flick, he placed it down gently on the other side of the room, flawlessly completing the task.

"Finished," he said confidently, looking at Bellatrix, expecting some acknowledgment.

But she didn't even glance his way. Instead, her gaze was locked on Hermione and Daphne. Hermione had just managed to complete her task, though the candlestick had crashed loudly onto the desk. Daphne's had taken a long route but eventually floated to its destination.

Bellatrix clapped her hands slowly. "Excellent control, Daphne," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Five to Slytherin."

Harry blinked, disbelief flooding through him. He had clearly done better than both of them.

"What about me?" Harry asked, unable to hold back. "I finished first, and I didn't make any mistakes."

Bellatrix's smile turned cruel as she finally looked at him. "Oh, Potter," she said, her voice low and mocking. "So eager for recognition, aren't you? It's not always about speed, dear. It's about... finesse. You lacked subtlety. Too aggressive."

"But I—"

"Enough!" Bellatrix's voice snapped through the air, and Harry felt frustrated. "You may have finished first, but what good is that if you lack grace?" She turned her attention back to Daphne. "She showed how should do it."

Harry felt his cheeks burn. It was unfair, and he knew it. He had executed the spell better than anyone else, and yet Bellatrix had chosen to ignore him, dismissing him as though his efforts meant nothing.

Hermione glanced back at him with an apologetic look. Daphne, however, merely raised an eyebrow at Harry, but she didn't seem to care much that Bellatrix was doing this. Harry knew this was pointless, so he sat down. At that moment, Draco lost control of his own candlestick, causing it to fall on top of one of the Slytherin students, catching his uniform on fire, but Bellatrix quickly used a water spell to put out the flames. The rest of the class went without any other incidents.

"Class dismissed," Bellatrix purred. "Except for you, Potter. Stay behind."

The other students packed up quickly, murmuring to each other as they filed out of the room. Harry stood frozen in place as Bellatrix approached him. The dress she was wearing was quite distracting, something the Professor noticed as she puffed out her chest slightly. Harry knew she was messing with him as she stopped before him with a cruel smile on her full lips.

"I know what you're thinking, Potter," she whispered. "That you deserved more. That I'm being unfair."

"Well, you are being unfair, Professor," Harry said gruffily and didn't try to hide what he thought.

"Perhaps," she said coolly but with a hint of playfulness. "Before I came here. All I heard was that you were the best student in Hogwarts, even Professor Wolfie-" Harry growled at the nickname she used for Lupin, narrowing his eyes dangerously, but Bellatrix ignored him. "Even he prattled on about you, how you were the best, but all I saw when I came here was someone who is simply a little better than the others, not much else," Bellatrix said coolly, sounding disappointed.

"So because I didn't meet your expectations, you decided to put me at the bottom," Harry said indignantly.

"That sounds about right, Potter." She said, almost mockingly, before reaching up and getting hold of his chin so he could look at her eyes. "You lack the fire that your father had, Potter. Being just a little better than the others is an insult to your father. You should be wiping the floor with them. Now leave." Bellatrix said dismissively, and Harry walked away, full of thoughts, her words repeating in his head. Now that he was alone, he wondered if she had a point if perhaps he wasn't trying as hard as he should.

The same day, Hermione tried to make him feel better, telling him that he made no mistakes during the class, but all Harry could think about was Bellatrix telling him that he was simply slightly better than the others, not much else. And then his mind went to his father.

Sirius and Lupin always told him his father was just a prankster like the Weasley Twins before the sixth year started. However, once the sixth year started and the tension of the war started rising, his father soon walked up the ranks, becoming one of the best wizards during the War. Sirius always told him his father died only because of Peter, that traitor.

Would he really be proud of me? Harry wondered that night while on his bed before deciding that he needed to get better. He wasn't sure yet if Voldemort could truly return, but if he did. Harry knew he needed to be stronger than this.

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It didn't take long, but after one month, everyone started noticing that Harry was spending even more time than usual on his studies. Hermione and Daphne were the first to notice, followed by Neville, the Weasley Twins, and Cedric. They all noticed it when Harry started using excuses not to fly with a broomstick with the others. When that happened, they all knew something had changed with him. Harry still made sure to spend time with his friends but studied and trained on his spells three times more than before. The others didn't ask questions about his change, maybe one or two questions, but the same wasn't for Hermione.

Hermione had made it her personal mission to ask him about his sudden change, and Harry always managed to find some excuse or leave the room he was using to study when she started interrogating him.

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Harry Potter sat isolated at a carved wooden desk in the Hogwarts library. The flickering light from nearby candles cast long, dancing shadows as he pored over several books and scrolls. His eyes were locked on a particularly challenging text about advanced charm work, a subject beyond the usual fourth-year student.

Weeks had passed like this, with Harry dedicating every spare moment to studying. The library had become his second bedroom. His fingers moved deftly, taking notes and tracing spell patterns that most seventh-years would balk at.

One evening, as the clock neared midnight, Hermione approached his desk. Her brow furrowed in both concern and curiosity as she watched him closely.

"Harry," she began, her voice a mix of worry and wonder, "you've been spending more time in here than even me. And your spellwork... it's gotten incredibly advanced. What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

Harry looked up, his glasses slightly askew, giving him a look of distracted genius. He smiled, but his eyes were tired. "Just trying to make the most of my time, Hermione. There's a lot to learn, isn't there?"

Hermione adjusted her own stack of books, her expression skeptical. "Yes, but you're not just learning, Harry. You're surpassing everyone. Even the seventh years talk about how you have mastered spells they're struggling with. And in Professor Flitwick's class, you performed that series of complex charms without breaking a sweat. Even Professor McGonagall praised your Transfiguration skills yesterday, and you know how rare that is. Yesterday, Professor Bellatrix praised you for the first time ever. Even Draco and his statues were smart enough to know that never happens."

Harry chuckled softly. "Well, I guess I've found a bit of a knack for it," he replied modestly.

Unconvinced, Hermione sat down beside him, her tone turning gentle. "Harry, it's me. You can tell me—is there a particular reason you're pushing yourself this hard?"

Harry hesitated, then leaned closer, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. "Okay, but you can't tell anyone, not even Neville. It's... it's for my father."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Your father?"

"Yes. I sent a letter to my mother and asked her about dad, how he was at school. She told me how he was in his fist five years. A bully, and a prankster. But then she told me that he changed, how he became better than everyone else. I feel that I'm not doing good enough. I want to make him proud, Hermione." Harry said with resolve in his eyes.

Understanding softened Hermione's face. "Harry, if he was here, he would be proud of you. But don't push yourself too hard, the books are not going anywhere."

"...Did I just hear that from you Hermione." Harry said inexplicably, his eyebrows rising up.

"Shut up," Hermione swatted at him playfully before laughing along with him.

Once the laughter died down. Harry nodded. "I won't. But thanks, Hermione."

The next day, during a joint practical session of Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts for fourth and seventh years, Harry's skills were tested.

Professor Flitwick clapped his hands. "Today, we will be combining charms and defensive spells in quick succession!"

As the session began. With a swift motion, Harry executed a series of complex charms, each wand movement precise and deliberate. Then, without missing a beat, he transitioned into defensive spells, countering and deflecting curses from seventh-year opponents.

The room fell silent as Harry disarmed his final opponent, a talented seventh-year.

Professor Flitwick beamed, his voice filled with pride. "Exceptional, Mr. Potter! Absolutely exceptional! It seems you have set a new standard for both years!"

Watching from the sidelines, Hermione clapped the loudest, her eyes gleaming with pride. Harry caught her eye, and they shared a smile.

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The classroom was buzzing with students preparing for the lesson, their wands ready. Hermione sat beside him, her nose buried in her textbook as usual, while Daphne Greengrass sat a few rows ahead, casually flipping through her own notes. Harry glanced at the door just as it opened, and Bellatrix swept into the room with her usual dramatic flair.

"Good afternoon, class," she purred, her voice low and seductive, as though she were addressing a room of admirers instead of students. Her dark eyes flicked around the room before settling on Harry. She gave him a brief, almost imperceptible smile before turning her attention to the blackboard.

"We will be advancing to more complex charmwork today," Bellatrix said, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her wand as she spoke. "The Confundus Charm." Her eyes lingered on Potter for a moment, and he noticed a change in her. Usually, whenever she looked at him, she was indifferent at best, but since he started training, she started to appear softer towards him if that was possible. However, this time, he was sure she was looking at him with lust. He felt his cock getting hard under his trunks, and he cursed himself. The last thing he needed was for Bellatrix to cut his dick off.

"Potter," Bellatrix called suddenly, her voice sharp. "Why don't you demonstrate for the class?"

Harry's heart gave a little jolt, but he quickly stood up, determined to prove himself once again. He made his way to the front of the class, feeling all eyes on him—especially Bellatrix's. She moved closer to him.

Bellatrix leaned in slightly, her dark curls cascading over her shoulder as she tilted her head, her neckline dipping ever so slightly. He tried to ignore it, but there it was—she was showing just a hint of cleavage and a seductive smile on her beautiful face. He felt his face flush and his heart skipped a beat. He cursed himself for getting hard and prayed to Merlin that the others, especially Bellatrix, wouldn't notice it. He knew it would be 'Game Over' for him if they did.

"Go on, Potter," Bellatrix whispered, her voice silkier than usual. "Let's see what you've got."

Harry swallowed hard, trying to shake the strange feeling in his gut. He raised his wand.

"Confundus!" he muttered, directing the spell at a bird that Bellatrix had brought for demonstration.

The bird started flying around uncontrollably, not knowing where he was going. It often flew up and down, hitting several objects in the process. Harry waved his wand to steady it, guiding it back down to the desk precisely. He had done it perfectly.

But before he could feel any sense of accomplishment, Bellatrix's voice cut through the silence.

"Not bad," she said, stepping closer to him, almost invading his personal space. "Though I've seen better. Perhaps if you weren't so... distracted."

Her eyes glittered with amusement, and Harry's face grew even hotter. She was standing close enough now that he could smell her perfume—something dark and musky that made his head spin. Her robes were just low enough to give him another glimpse of her cleavage.

Bellatrix's lips curled into a knowing smile. She leaned in even closer, her voice so low that only Harry could hear. "Focus, Potter. You wouldn't want to lose your edge, would you?"

Harry felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He stepped back before the class noticed anything, giving her a curt nod before returning to his seat, his mind racing.

As he sat down, Hermione gave him a curious glance. "You okay, Harry?"

"Yeah, fine," Harry muttered, not wanting to meet her eyes. "Just... weird."

"Weird?" Hermione frowned, obviously concerned. "What do you mean?"

Harry hesitated. He couldn't possibly explain what had just happened. It wasn't like he could tell Hermione that their professor had just flirted with him—if that was even what it was. He wasn't sure anymore. Maybe he was just imagining it all.

"Nothing,"

Hermione didn't look convinced, but before she could press further, Bellatrix resumed her lecture.

"Now," Bellatrix continued, pacing slowly in front of the class. "Pair up. Practice your Confundus charms. I'll be observing."

The room erupted into motion as students began to pair off. Hermione immediately partnered with Harry, as they always did, but as he tried to focus on their practice, he couldn't shake his growing lust. He knew Bellatrix was beautiful and incredibly sexy. There was no other word to describe her, and whenever he closed her eyes, her alluring smile appeared.

And then, when Bellatrix came around to their pair, it happened again. She leaned in, her voice low as she "corrected" Harry's form—though there was nothing wrong with it. As she spoke, she once again gave him that subtle glimpse, leaning forward just enough for him to notice. His mind screamed at him to look away, but it was hard to ignore. Hard not to notice.

"Much better, Potter," she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear. "Though you still need work on your... control."

Harry swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. He managed a nod, his throat dry, and turned back to Hermione, who hadn't noticed a thing. She was too busy concentrating on her own spellwork to see what had just happened.

When the class ended, Bellatrix told him to stay for a minute longer. Hermione seemed to want to wait for him inside the classroom, but the Professor told her to wait for her friend outside. She gave Harry a look, and only after Harry nodded back at her did she leave the class. Once the door closed, Bellatrix strode towards him.

"I see you are doing much better, Potter. You took my advice." Bellatrix said with the same alluring smile, and Harry found himself getting hard again.

"I did." Harry accepted; there was no point in denying it. "I wasn't doing my best, and you were right, Professor, but I wanted to ask what you did during the class?" Harry asked bluntly as always, and Bellatrix giggled at his hazy expression. This was the first time Harry had heard her giggle, and he quite liked the sound of her giggle.

She strode towards him; her cleavage was quite distracting, and then she did something he didn't expect. She leaned forward and kissed his lips.

The Full Version of All One Shots written so far are available for Sergeant Tier or Higher.