wanking_mods (wanking_mods) wrote in hp_wankfest, @ 2011-05-06 12:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2011 fic |
Fic: Neville Longbottom at the Hog's Head Inn with a Wizarding Portrait
Title: Through a Glass Avidly
Author: j_lunatic
Character: Neville Longbottom
Location: The Hog's Head Inn, Hogsmeade
Prop: A wizarding portrait
Other Characters: Ariana Dumbledore
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Possible squickiness regarding Ariana's age.
Word Count: 900
Disclaimer: Was the fifth book named Harry Potter and the Orgy of the Phoenix? No? Then this isn’t by J.K. Rowling.
Author's Notes: With many thanks to my beta--XOXO!
Neville added a handful of Epsom salts to the tub filling with hot water, and stirred the mix to disperse them. After toeing off his shoes and stripping off his uniform, he lowered himself into the bath. Ohhhhh.
The night before, Neville had led a raid (prearranged with Madam Pomfrey) on the hospital wing, in order to grab healing potions and related supplies for the use of Dumbledore's Army, holed up in the Room of Requirement. And on the way back they had encountered Gregory Goyle, intoxicated with his ability to perform the Cruciatus curse and his liberty to use it on people caught breaking the rules of the current Hogwarts regime. Susan Bones had successfully disarmed him, although not before Neville was hit several times with the curse.
Upon returning to the Room of Requirement, Padma Patil, the DA's de facto Healer, had ordered Neville to take a long, hot bath--hot showers were about as effective as anything else the DA could source at the time to treat the aftereffects of short-term exposure to Crucio. Neville was soon convinced to participate in Padma's research. And therefore, once curfew time had descended on Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, Neville had hurried through the tunnel into the Hog's Head, where Aberforth Dumbledore was providing a bathroom in a disused wing of the inn.
Neville sank down into the warm water, grinning as he felt his aching muscles relax. The rest of the inn might look pretty shabby (to say nothing of the smell of the goats that had the run of the ground floor), but the hot water supply was almost as good as Hogwarts's.
Neville stretched out in the bath, propping his feet on the taps at one end of the tub, beneath a framed print depicting Queen Maeve of Connaught, in a chariot drawn by four harnessed unicorns. He remembered a conversation he'd had yesterday with Ernie Macmillan and Seamus Finnegan, wondering if Harry, Hermione, and Ron could still be alive and on the run. Neville liked to think of the three somewhere out in the wilds, together in a tent (although probably a very comfortable one, given Hermione's aptitude for Charms), huddling together on one (enlarged) cot, for body warmth and moral support….
For years Neville had wondered just what Harry, Ron, and Hermione did all those times they went places together and kept mum about what they had been doing. Maybe he was feeling the influence of the Hog's Head Inn, notorious throughout the Wizarding British Isles for providing rooms by the hour, with no questions asked or judgments made. But he imagined Hermione's arms twined around Harry and Ron, Ron spooning behind Hermione and cupping one of her breasts, Harry's mouth pressed against Hermione's neck…Neville's hand floated through the warm water and curled around his cock.
The DA members sheltering in the Room of Requirement had an unspoken agreement to ignore anyone who resorted to self-gratification (or…release of whatever sort with another person) in the shower or after lights out. If anyone made an indiscreet noise, the next morning someone from their house gave them a quick tutorial on Silencing Charms. But Neville couldn't bring himself to take this kind of relief, as he was so mindful of the group of people around him. And therefore he luxuriated in being in a Hog's Head bathroom by himself. In for a knut, in for a galleon.
Imagining Hermione's hands reaching for Harry and Ron's crotches, Neville grasped his cock and began to pump forcefully, milking the shaft and caressing the head. Feeling the delicious sensations in his balls, knowing release was imminent, Neville flung his head back, and saw Ariana Dumbledore, standing in the foreground of the framed print above the tub. The teenage girl had her hands and face pressed against the glass, as she stared at Neville, mouth open in apparent delight.
Neville could not have been more ashamed if his grandmother had been the one to spot him…at this time. But he was too far gone and, eyes still locked with Ariana, he shot off into the bathtub. Only after several deep, shuddering breaths did Neville have sufficient presence of mind to move both of his hands to cover his cock and balls. In response, Ariana seemed to giggle, and whisked herself out of the portrait frame.
Neville stood up, lifting himself out of the cooling bathwater, and reached for one of the towels Aberforth had provided. His mind raced. Did Ariana make a habit of watching people staying at the Hog's Head…engaged in this sort of thing? Is this why the last several mornings Neville had awoken in his hammock to find on the wall a small picture of Ariana, apparently watching over him?
Neville felt positively dirty when he remembered, according to The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, Ariana had been perhaps fourteen at the time of her death. Even if Ariana had spent her afterlife spying on people shagging in the Hog's Head--and perhaps the Room of Requirement--for Neville she was an eternal girl, and right now he wasn't sure how he was going to look her in the eye in order to get back to Hogwarts. Neville finished scrubbing himself dry, and scrambled to get back into his uniform.