Title: Visitation
Author: alisanne
Characters: Gilderoy Lockhart/OC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Het? That's about it. Oh, and there may be some, um, crackiness.
Themes/kinks chosen: Courtship. Oh, and I may have slipped another one in there. See if you can spot it.
Word Count: ~1400
Summary: Gilderoy could always find her.
Author's notes: Ok, so the blame for this goes squarely on the shoulders of eeyore9990, who somehow switched my muse for hers. That's my theory, anyway.
Thanks to sevfan, who never complains no matter what I send her to read. :)
And, as always, nothing you recognize is mine.


~

Visitation

~

“There you go!” the mediwitch said with a cheerful smile as she combed his hair. Blue eyes met her brown ones in the mirror and she sighed. “Such a shame,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Waste of an attractive man.”

Gilderoy Lockhart blinked back at her in the mirror. “Pretty,” he said.

The mediwitch giggled despite herself. “And you’re such a flirt,” she chuckled. “There you go, luv, your curls are perfect.”

“Perfect,” he agreed.

With one last pat on his bouncy ringlets, she gathered up the empty potion vials she had already fed him and turned towards the door. “Have a wonderful day, Gilderoy,” she said. She paused at the door. “I’ll leave this open, don’t you think? You’ll be good and stay in your room, yes?”

Taking in his vacant smile, she sighed once more and left. If she had remained she would have seen the crafty light enter his eyes.

Gilderoy waited a few minutes, and when no one else approached his room, he stood up. He had been relegated to the end of a hallway that few people visited. After making sure that his robes looked right, he left his room, starting for his destination.

She was waiting, he knew. She always was, his lovely darling. Who could have predicted that in this dismal place he would find someone who could make him feel the way she did?

Gilderoy sighed. Women were supposed to be such delicate and wondrous creatures, but he’d always found them to have far lower standards for their appearances than he had, and that was simply...unacceptable. Until, that is, he had met her.

She was, in every way, perfect. Petite, always perfectly poised, beautifully receptive... His body tightened in anticipation of seeing her again. Perhaps today she would let him go farther than a mere peck on the cheek? He shivered and walked faster.

He had stumbled across her quite by accident one day on a stroll down a deserted hallway. She had been sitting up in her bed, and she had immediately captured his attention with her hair (almost as beautiful as his) and her pale, wonderful complexion.

He had struck up a conversation, and she’d proved to be a wonderful and empathetic listener. At the end of that first time he’d pressed a kiss to her hand and quite spontaneously given her a jewelled hair clip, upon receipt of which she’d sighed happily.

Their courtship, for that’s what it was, Gilderoy was convinced, had progressed from then. She never had visitors, and neither did he, so they got along well, neither of them talking about their non-existent families or friends. She didn’t care about his past, and he didn’t worry about hers either.

Her name was Lucy; he’d found out quite by accident when he’d overheard some of the hospital orderlies talking about her. She had apparently had a lot of trauma in her life as well since she didn’t talk much, but Gilderoy talked enough for two, so that didn’t matter.

“Lucy?” He knocked on the door of her small room and walked in immediately.

She smiled up at him, and to his happy surprise, her arms immediately reached for him.

“Oh, Lucy!” he choked out, overcome. “It’s been so long, my darling.”

She got that mischievous look in her eyes that he loved and blew him a kiss.

“You minx,” he said hoarsely. He hesitated for a long moment, knowing anyone could walk in, but when she licked her lips he couldn’t resist and he sat down next to her on her bed, pressing her hand to his heart. “My dearest one, I have tried to be courtly in my attentions to you, but you would try the patience of a saint.”

She opened her mouth, and when Gilderoy placed a finger against her lips to prevent her from interrupting his carefully rehearsed speech, she sucked it in, making him groan aloud.

“Dear God,” he whispered, and leaning forward, he gave up on restraint, pressing his lips ardently to hers.

She responded by opening her mouth wide and sucking strongly on his tongue. Gilderoy could feel his body’s arousal thrumming through him, his prick pulsing in his trousers, and he tore his lips away, panting. “You are making it very difficult to wait, dear one,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean for us to get to this point before I made my intentions clear. Perhaps we should talk--”

Lucy, however, clearly had other ideas. Her hand reached to cover his tented trousers and her legs seemed to be moving restlessly beneath the sheets. Her robes parted and Gilderoy gasped as her smooth, naked body was finally revealed to him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his hand already reaching for one of her firm breasts.

“Yesss,” she hissed, and then there was no more talking. Her arms wound around his neck and Gilderoy was pulled on top of her, briefly straddling her.

He tried to take his time but it seemed she had other ideas. Insinuating one arm in between them, she pulled one of his hands down until he was stroking the area just above her thigh, his fingers edging ever closer to his goal.

She was arching up against him, arms holding him close, and when he managed to free his prick from his trousers, she didn’t utter a word of protest, instead she spread her legs wider, encouraging him with desperate sounding mewls.

Finally, finally his fingers were inside her wet clenching heat, and Gilderoy was moving on instinct. Lining himself up, he thrust, groaning his relief as he sunk into rippling tightness. Unable to stop himself, he began thrusting hard, grunting as the bed actually shook with his rhythmic movements.

It had been what seemed like forever since his last time with anyone but his right hand, and he had pined for her for ages, so Gilderoy wasn’t able to be as careful as he’d planned. He’d wanted the first time that they did this to be gentle, special, yet she felt so good he couldn’t stop. “Lucy, darling, are you all right?” he gasped in her ear. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

She didn’t respond verbally, but she did tighten enticingly around him and Gilderoy smiled at the encouragement, bending to his erotic task with alacrity.

It took only a moment more of thrusting until he came spurting inside her, and still she held onto him tightly throughout as he trembled in her arms.

Collapsing atop her, he nuzzled her neck then licked it. The taste surprised him momentarily until he realized that this had to be as a result of the potions they had her on. “Tell me you’ll marry me, Lucy,” he whispered.

Her softly hissed reply made him smile. “We’ll talk soon, darling,” he murmured. “Just rest now...” And he drifted off to sleep mid-sentence, never aware of the Sleeping Spell that had been cast on him.

~

“He’s out,” Oscar said, stepping into the room.

Hugo shook his head. “Poor sod,” he muttered. “You’d think he’d have realized at some point that his girlfriend’s a doll.”

“Fiancée now,” Oscar chuckled. “Didn’t you hear him ask her to marry him before I put him to sleep?”

Hugo rolled his eyes at his crude partner. “Good thing his memory’s already known to be off,” he said. “At least it’s likely he won’t be believed if he tries to report us for this.” Levitating Lockhart off the bed, he began to retrieve the squashed doll.

“He must remember something from day to day, though. How else does he keep finding her?” Hugo said. “I mean we keep hiding her...”

Oscar shrugged. “No idea. Guess we just have to keep trying. Maybe we should put a Tracking Spell on him?”

“Not allowed,” Hugo reminded him.

Oscar snorted. “Oh, and fuck dolls are?” he asked. Hugo flushed and opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off. “Button it. We need to get him back to his room before he’s missed. We’ll hide her again later. Maybe in the basement.”

As the orderlies began the long trek to transport Gilderoy back to his room, they missed the sparkle of the clip in the doll’s hair that glittered in the dim light of the closet. Those in the know would have recognized the Tracing Spell on it, and if the doll seemed to be smiling in anticipation of another day, and another visit, neither orderly noticed.

~