wanking_mods (wanking_mods) wrote in hp_wankfest, @ 2008-05-29 18:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2008 fic |
Nymphadora Tonks at the Quidditch World Cup with a Weasley Jumper
Title: Dress You Up In My Love
Author: ragdoll
Character: Nymphadora Tonks
Location: Quidditch World Cup
Object: Weasley Jumper
Other Characters: A certain Weasley admired from afar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: wanking, self-lovin', jilling off, bearded clam feeding, beaver beating, kitty teasing, muff buffing, orchid airing, peach squeezing, pink canoe paddling, pink salad tossing, etc.
Word Count: 2085
Disclaimer: No Weasley Jumpers were harmed in the making of this story.
Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who helped me figure this one out. And to the hp_wankfest mods for the fest and for their patience!
After writing this, I realised I'd had Meryn Cadell's spoken word brilliance "The Sweater" somewhere in the back of my mind. So she deserves some thanks too, although I am not implying that any Weasley boy smells like a goat. Well, at least, not most of them.
Any confusion as to which Weasley Tonks is lusting after is intentional.
It had been crowded at the Quidditch Stadium the day of the Quidditch World Cup match; thousands of people from all over the world packed together in one small space like an extra large tin of international sardines. And yet, Nymphadora Tonks had found him in the middle of the throng, as if he was the only one there at all.
He'd been there with his father, who she knew casually from the Ministry -- they'd shared a lift on more than one occasion, and she'd seen him chatting with Kingsley Shacklebolt from time to time -- and his brothers -- all five of them, and a little sister she had not known existed until today. Tonks would probably not even have known he was there if Williamson hadn't nudged her with his elbow and whispered "Look! It's Harry Potter! He's sitting with Arthur Weasley--in the Top Box!" before pointing out the large, loud group sitting in the best seats in the stadium.
Tonks saw the Potter boy, bespectacled and weedy, flanked by a younger Weasley and a brown-haired girl she didn't recognize, and then her eyes fell on him, standing out amidst a sea of copper and red-gold heads. He was wearing a scarlet and gold jumper, a rampant lion emblazoned upon the chest; it made her smile that he was still a true Gryffindor even after all this time. She hadn't actually seen him in years, since he'd left school for more exotic climes. They'd promised to keep in touch and of course hadn't, the way schoolmates always seemed to. She'd heard he'd gone abroad to work, but that had been it. Between school and Auror training, Tonks's life had taken a very different path. There had been very little time to keep track of friends or family, let alone a schoolgirl crush on a boy who had barely known her name.
She considered going over to say hello, but the way everyone had gawked and pointed at Potter, it had hardly seemed fair. She decided it would sound ridiculous and disingenuous to go talk to him now. It would only seem as a lame excuse to stare at Potter like an animal in a zoo. No, it was safer to stay in her seat with her fellow Aurors and watch him from afar. Just as she'd done time and time again when she was young.
It was difficult to tear her eyes away as he joked with his brothers, teasing the younger children good-naturedly before wiping a drop of sweat off his brow. It had been chilly this evening, but it was very warm now. The crush of one hundred thousand people all converging in one place at one time had made it feel like a furnace in the stadium, even with cooling charms at full blast. In one fluid motion, he stripped off his jumper and carelessly tossed it onto the back of his seat, his ginger hair now artfully mussed. Tonks's breath caught in her throat -- she could see he was still as fit as ever, the form-fitting black Hobgoblins tee-shirt clinging to him like a second skin. Her eyes focused on the hollow of his pale throat, his Adam's apple jutting out, and for the first time in years, she tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss him just there: the feel of his skin beneath her lips, the taste of it against her tongue, the scent of him in her nostrils, and the sound of his low moans of pleasure as she did so. The thoughts made her squirm against her hard wooden seat -- sadly, not nearly as posh as those in the Top Box. Luckily, none of her companions noticed her behaviour.
The game started officially, first the Mascots' display, and then the whizzing players from the Bulgarian and Irish teams providing a welcome distraction from gawping at her former crush. Soon Tonks was engrossed by the action, although she stole surreptitious glances over at the Weasleys' box more than once to see him reacting to the plays; jumping up and cheering for a well-scored goal, or jeering and cursing at a foul play.
The game ended and Tonks contemplated going over to say hello to the Weasleys, despite the proximity of her much-loathed aunt and uncle to them in the Top Box. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were sitting with Cornelius Fudge, along with a boy she guessed to be the Malfoys’ son. She’d actually never met her relatives face-to-face, just heard about her mother’s sister and brother-in-law over the years, but she knew all about them just the same. Lucius’s past involvements with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and present attempts to curry favour with the government were common knowledge in the Aurors' department. The fact that he was currently so close to Fudge came as no surprise to Tonks at all. Happily, she could see there was no love lost between the Malfoys and the Weasley family; it only made her admire him more.
She'd just steeled herself up to get up and walk towards the Top Box when the Weasleys and their guests disappeared, swept away by the hordes of witches and wizards emptying out of the stadium all at once. Tonks reached the spot they'd occupied, but there was nothing left except for other people's detritus, a pile of crumpled and empty sweet wrappers...and his jumper still hanging on the back of his now abandoned chair. Slowly, she approached the purple and gilt seat, uncertain of what to do.
The jumper looked handmade, probably by his mum -- Tonks remembered that he and his brothers seemed to acquire new ones every Christmas, wearing them proudly around the school for weeks on end. It would hardly be fair to leave it there unclaimed, not when she knew exactly who the owner was. He'd probably be frantic when he realised he'd left it behind, so she'd just take it and post it to him when she got home. Perhaps he'd even be grateful enough to thank her in person...
Her fingers closed around the fine wool; it was surprisingly soft to the touch, not scratchy at all. Idly, she petted the striped sleeve, letting her fingertips brush up and down the fuzzy material, imagining what it would be like to feel the hard, taut muscles of his arms and shoulders beneath the surface. She picked up the jumper from the back of the seat, folding it reverently before hugging it to her chest, rubbing her cheek against it. The jumper was still warm from his body heat, smelling like musk and spice, something truly and wholly masculine. Tonks couldn't imagine him smelling like anything else.
Her response to his scent was visceral and immediate, a jolt of arousal coursing through her body, leaving her pulse pounding and her heart racing. Tonks could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment, no doubt turning the same colour as her hair. Guiltily, she looked around the stadium, searching for any other stragglers who might still have been in the stands, but thankfully, no one else had lingered. Tonks felt undeniably foolish standing about with his jumper in her arms, deciding she needed to go somewhere more private...and soon.
Her tent was her first thought, but any one of the Aurors she was sharing space with might be there, and she couldn't bear the thought of being caught by someone, least of all her co-workers. No, that wouldn't do at all. Tonks supposed she could have Apparated straight home to her flat, but she really didn't want to leave the site yet. There were too many post-game festivities to attend and it was still possible, though not probable, that Aurors might be needed for something, especially once the partying got underway, especially with mad Irish fans involved. No, she would have to take care of things right here, right now.
Somehow, she made her way to the ladies’ loo nearby. It was surprisingly clean given the amount of traffic that had gone through here during the evening's events. In fact it was cleaner than her own bathroom at home, maybe even cleaner than her own flat -- there was a lot to be said for self-renewing Cleansing Charms. She did a cursory check of the cubicles, finding no one there, then picked the one furthest from the door to occupy. Closing, then locking the door behind her, she slipped the jumper on over her own t-shirt, snuggling against the heavy material.
The jumper was warm and comfortable against her skin, although it was much too large for her, the sleeves flopping down past her hands. As she rolled them up, she noted the glint of several coppery strands caught in the fibres. Had she been a different sort of witch, Tonks thought, she might've taken those hairs and used them for selfish purposes, to make him notice her, to love her...or least desire her the way she'd always wanted him to. As an Auror, she knew enough Dark Magic to make a decent attempt at a potent love spell, but it wasn't in her to do that sort of thing. Not now, not ever.
She closed her eyes, pressing her nose against the collar, and breathed in deeply, once again taking inhis scent. It made her tingle all over, her toes curling inside her boots. She could feel her nipples stiffening in arousal, the sweet ache of want starting between her thighs as she hugged herself, caressing the soft woollen material beneath her fingers. Soon her hands had moved to her breasts, brushing over them, squeezing them together as she felt the hard points of her nipples jutting through her thin shirt and the thicker jumper.
Skating her hands downward, Tonks touched herself through the rough, patched fabric of her jeans, rubbing against the seam with one hand as she unbuttoned them awkwardly with the other. She leaned against the cool metal cubicle door, bracing herself as she worked her jeans down over her hips, then shoved her fingers beneath her already sodden knickers. Somehow she managed to shuffle over to the closed toilet without stumbling, jeans and knickers bunched around her knees, then sat down on the edge of the painted wooden lid, legs spread wide.
Her head lolled back, eyes closed tight as Tonks let her fingers trace along the edges of her slit, savouring her own warmth and wetness combined with the comforting sensation of his jumper. Once again she thought of its owner: his pale skin dappled with freckles, his ginger hair, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his lips curved when he laughed. What would it be like to explore his body with her hands and mouth, to bury her fingers in that hair, to have him look at her as if she were the only woman in the world, to kiss and be kissed by him? She slid her fingers in farther, curving two up to penetrate herself, her thumb pressing hard against the throbbing bud of her clit.
A low moan escaped her lips, reverberating off the walls of the bathroom, as she teased her clit with her thumb, moving it in slow spirals as her hips rocked in time. The intensity mounted as she picked up her pace, her fingers moving frantically as she brought herself closer to the edge, her whole body thrumming with desire. Her arse bounced against the toilet lid as she writhed against her hand, her cries growing louder and louder, until finally the climax hit, hard and strong. She felt her whole body shaking, awash in bliss. Clutching at the jumper's hem, Tonks gasped for breath as she withdrew her now slick fingers before wiping them on her bare thighs. It took several minutes before she was able to clear her head, dress hastily and sneak out of the ladies’ loo before she got found out.
The night air was cold as she exited the stadium in the direction of her tent, the raucous sounds of thousands of witches and wizards singing and celebrating coming from the campsite. As the sky lit up with fireworks. Tonks shivered, then snuggled inside the over-large jumper, grateful for its warmth. She'd return it in the morning…or perhaps the day after. Unless, somehow she managed to find him tonight and give it back to him in person. Right now, the jumper was staying with her – it made her feel safe and secure, and it most definitely had its uses.