Title: Hogwarts Does Harry
Author: eeyore9990
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Hogwarts
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Bad porn month. Clichés include but are not limited to: hapless repair person is seduced by the resident of the castle; Wizards Gone Wild: Spring Summer Break Mischief; gay character tricks straight character of the same gender into sex; hapless character accidentally finds himself in the middle of a debauched situation and ends up joining in; Harry Does Hogwarts
Other Warnings: sex with an (animatedly) inanimate object; object insertion; various bits of other weirdness and surprise!ending
Word Count: 2450
Summary/Description: There've been many changes to Hogwarts over the years. Perhaps there's an explanation for that...
Author's Notes: I have to thank r_grayjoy and leela_cat for gleefully cheering me on while writing this. As for explanations… well. I saw the Harry Does Hogwarts prompt and couldn't pass it up. :D

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There was something about it that was just... perfect. It was everything he'd ever wanted, ever needed; it was his shelter, his protection. It was sturdy and loyal, never faltering in its defence of those in its care. And he loved it for those qualities.

He just never thought he'd ever be lucky enough to have that love returned.

***

The first time it happened was during the hottest part of summer. So hot, in fact, that everyone involved with the reconstruction project had gone back to Hogsmeade in an attempt to find cool ale, good food, and comfortable accommodations. Everyone but Harry.

He stayed behind, deeply reluctant to leave Hogwarts while the castle still looked so… defeated. Broken. He walked through the corridors, hand trailing along the undamaged bits of the walls as he sought words of reassurance. For himself. For the castle.

For whomever might be listening.

"I won't stop," he whispered, pausing to rub at a charred bit of stone, trying to remove the soot from it. "I won't stop until you've been healed. I promise. You've always been there for me," he continued, feeling slightly stupid to be speaking out loud to an inanimate stone structure but unable to stop himself. "The least I can do is be there for you in your time of need."

A soft noise reached his ears; it sounded like a sigh of gratitude, though rationally he knew it had to have simply been the wind blowing through a hole in the outer walls.

He began to itch all over as the dried sweat that clung to his skin in patches made itself known. With a grimace, he removed his shirt and scrubbed it across the back of his neck, laughing at himself. "Guess I'll see if the Prefects bath is still in working order, won't I?"

There was no reason for him to be speaking out loud, but the sound of a human voice soothed his nerves. The empty castle, though still the only home he'd ever known and comforting for all that, was slightly too quiet. It seemed to echo with loneliness, even when no sound could be heard.

The staircases were perfectly aligned, almost as if they knew his destination and wanted to help him on his way. He shook off that fanciful thought, knowing that with all the work still being focused on the gaping wounds in the outer walls that no one would have started work on the charms and spells that kept the castle magical.

Hogwarts was in actuality what it appeared to Muggles: a depressing ruin.

When he reached the door to the Prefect's bath, he was surprised to find it open. A stroke of luck, that, though he had to admit that it was nice to have good fortune on his side for once, especially as exhausted as he was after a day spent moving stones and clearing debris.

Now, if his luck would just hold out long enough to ensure running water, he'd worship at the altar of Hogwarts' perfection. Walking straight to the taps lining the huge bathing pool, he squatted down and twisted one. The pipes made a shuddering noise, banging and clanking somewhere deep in the castle before water began dribbling out. The flow began slowly, but rapidly gathered strength until clear, lukewarm water was gushing from the tap.

Though he wouldn't get the hot bath his muscles likely needed, Harry found himself thankful that the water would be slightly cool when he sank into it.

On a whim, he turned the tap for bubbles but was unsurprised when nothing came out. Shrugging that off—they'd fix it eventually—he stripped out of his shoes and remaining clothing, bundling them with his shirt and tossing them in a pile in the corner of the room, far away from the bath, and placed his wand within easy reach.

Stepping into the water, he hissed as the not-quite-body temperature sent a shiver through him, but immersing himself completely took the shock out of it. Surfacing, he sluiced the water from his hair and face, shaking himself like a dog. Walking through the chest-deep water, he found the ledge at the side and sank onto it, lifting his arms to rest them along the edge of the bath as he relaxed back, his feet floating up in front of his body.

The moment was completely perfect, the quiet broken only by the sound of the water lapping at his chest as his feet slowly churned it. He laid his head back, eyes closing as he allowed himself to just drift. He'd get up and find some soap in a bit, but for the moment, he just wanted to luxuriate in the nothingness.

Floating in sublime bliss, he was startled to feel the jets that lined the bath suddenly turn on. All of the jets seemed to be aimed at him and after a brief bout of wonder, he relaxed back again and let the water pummel his over-tired muscles. He was nearly asleep when the jets slowed and then stopped, all but one.

That one jet, which had been barely tickling his toes, picked up power—possibly from the fact that it was the only one still working, he thought drowsily—and in seconds he could feel the water pulsing gently around his bollocks and swirling over his cock. Cracking one eyelid, Harry glanced around guiltily, wondering what sort of pervert he'd be to remain exactly where he was.

But it had been ages since his cock had felt the caress of anything but his right hand—his left when he was feeling particularly frisky—so Harry gave a mental shrug and stayed right where he was, eye drifting closed again as he concentrated on the sensation of the water working over him.

He was just getting good and stiff and about to reach down to fondle himself when the feel of something firm and unyielding slid along his calf. Jerking upright, he glanced down at the water, hand stretching along the floor above the sunken bath to find his discarded wand. The madly swirling water, though, made it impossible for him to see anything other than a vague shape in the bath, and he couldn't honestly tell if it was his own leg.

Panic shot through him when whatever had brushed against him returned, this time clamping down around his ankle and pulling his leg forward just as another something latched onto his other leg. He let out a small scream—which did not sound girly in the least—and clutched at the wall behind him. Twisting his upper body, he pulled against the thing shackling him as he strained for his wand.

But whatever had him in its grip kept him far enough away from his wand that all his twisting and stretching proved futile. Turning back around to face the threat head-on, Harry gripped the ledge he was sitting on and began yanking on his bound legs. The only outcome to that bit of madness was strained muscles and a cramp in his left foot.

One last heave drained Harry of energy and he collapsed backward against the side of the bath, the irony of being eaten alive by a castle he'd been working so hard to restore occupying his mind in the moments just before—he was sure—he would be dragged under the water and drowned to death. Instead of brutal murder though, he found that as soon as he relaxed, so did the grip on his legs. Testing that theory, Harry twitched his right leg, only to feel the bonds clamp down on it once more. He relaxed once more and found himself almost free.

As he pondered his ability to yank himself loose before whatever was holding him hostage could react, the jet of water that had been doing such a delightful job of arousing him earlier caught his attention. It began pushing the water toward him much more forcefully, and Harry couldn't help but jerk his hips into the stream.

A low moan caught Harry unawares and goosebumps broke out along his skin as the water began to lick along his cock and over his bollocks. Slumping backward, he gave up and began to simply thrust into the sensation. As he laid there, mind hazy with arousal, he felt the bonds holding his legs pull against them, spreading them. He barely had enough time to wonder at that before something was tickling against his arsehole.

Harry twisted away from it, but instead of merely being tightly imprisoned once more, pipes shot out from behind him and wrapped around his wrists and chest. Held completely captive, Harry could do nothing but feel. Feel the water rushing over his cock and bollocks, feel something hard and blunt rubbing along his crack, pressing against his perineum, and dragging over his clenched pucker.

Breath going thin and uneven, Harry willed himself to calm, but then the damnable pipes lengthened and stretched and tendrils of nearly liquid metal began to play at his nipples, teasing them and pinching them until he could only writhe helplessly in the grip of his bonds. Just when he thought he was going to be nothing but the plaything of the castle—and there was no doubt in his mind that it was Hogwarts itself doing this to him—he was bodily lifted and carried through the air to the other side of the bathing pool.

His upper body was pressed down onto the floor even as the pipes continued to play at his nipples and hold him hostage. The jet that had been shooting water across the width of the bathing pool at him slowed to a stop and then started sucking. The force of the water going into the jet drew his hardened cock toward it, but when it was just about to enter the mouth of the jet, it stopped, the water going calm around him.

The teasing of his nipples turned almost soothing, the pipes holding him so steady began to rub against him in a caress and the—what had to be a—pipe that had been teasing along his crack stopped all motion, just at the entrance of his arsehole. It was like Hogwarts was waiting for something.

Mind going clear enough for actual thought, Harry realized with an intuition he hadn't known he possessed, that Hogwarts was waiting for his permission. And it was a question he wasn't sure he could answer.

He'd never been in a position like the one he was currently in—obviously—but he'd also never engaged in any sort of sex with anyone other than Ginny. And even that had been more fumbling and heavy petting than actual sex. The one time they'd gone all the way, Harry had come so fast he'd embarrassed himself, and he knew, though he'd taken the time to help Ginny along with his fingers, that she'd been left deeply dissatisfied.

But it wasn't like Hogwarts was a bird who could have feelings of that sort, was it? After all, Hogwarts was acting more like a man than a woman, what with all the poking around at Harry's arse.

Closing his eyes, Harry took a moment to truly think about the situation, and with all the rash rushing to judgement he was known for, decided to take a leap. What could it hurt? No one would ever know, and maybe Harry would learn some new tricks.

Swallowing uncomfortably, Harry opened his eyes and glanced around, feeling foolish as he directed his next words to the non-working tap he'd turned on earlier. "I… erm… give my permission?"

So suddenly it jolted him, the pipes holding Harry in position jerked him forward, and whether it was luck or good angle control, his cock was thrust directly into the jet that had been pleasuring him earlier. Only now it was sucking again. Sucking rhythmically as the rest of the pipes redoubled their efforts to pleasure him.

His nipples had never been so worked over in his life, and he nearly screamed as the metal over them turned abrasive and scratched at the sensitive nubs before turning smooth and soothing. The pipe at his arse went slick and thinned out, pushing into his arse in a way that was neither comfortable nor painful, but some thrilling place in between. As soon as it was a few inches inside his body, the pipe began vibrating, knocking against something inside of Harry that made him see stars even as his hips were rocked over and over, thrusting his cock into the sucking, tight, wet tunnel of the jet.

Though he managed to hold out longer than he had with Ginny—the alien feel of the pipe up his arse probably had something to do with that—before long Harry felt his stomach muscles clench as heat knotted in his belly before flowing down to his bollocks and exploding out of his cock in a stream of pulses that sapped him of what remaining strength he had left.

His orgasm was so powerful that it left him utterly spent and so drained both physically and mentally that he slipped almost instantly into sleep.

***

Harry stared down at the note in his hand with a feeling of dread twisting inside him. He'd never been able to say no to Professor McGonagall before, and he really didn't want to now, but…

But his absence from Hogwarts the past nine months had been more than deliberate on his part. While he was really quite pleased with the fact that the 'morning after' his little rendezvous in the Prefect's bath had seen the castle completely repaired and ready to accept students once more, he had no desire to set foot in Hogwarts again until he could do so without feeling as if the walls were just waiting to grab him up and molest him—willing or no—once more.

Knowing he had no real choice, Harry Apparated to the front gates of Hogwarts, where he was met by a McGonagall who appeared to have caught whatever it was that had once made Dumbledore's eyes twinkle so brightly. She, in fact, looked to be just on the verge of full-on laughter.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Harry said, "I received your owl."

Lips so puckered they looked as if they might detach from her face at any moment, McGonagall waved her hand toward a section of the castle that Harry had never seen before. Voice hoarse, she held back her laughter until after she was able to say, "Congratulations, Mr Potter. You're the proud father of Hogwarts' newest wing."