Fic: Neville Longbottom and the Lost Mushroom (Harry/Neville, NC-17) for coffee_n_cocoa Author:vanseedee Recipient:coffee_n_cocoa Title: Neville Longbottom and the Lost Mushroom Rating: NC17 Pairing(s): Neville/Harry Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 16 years or older. Summary: When a fungus goes missing, it needs at least two heroes to conquer a cave. Warnings: Awkwardness, lack of kinks but pretty graphic, EWE Word Count: ~8400 Author's Notes: Dear coffee_n_cocoa, I hope you like this and that I managed to hit a few of your kinks. Many thanks to You-Know-Who-You-Are for holding my hand, listening to hours of whining and most of all for countless and invaluable blue comments.
Neville Longbottom and the Lost Mushroom
Neville broke into a wide grin when he saw who the Ministry assigned Auror was for his trip to Nepal.
"Harry! What did you do now?" Neville asked and hugged him briefly. The Ministry didn't usually send Harry Potter on bodyguard duty.
"No idea what you mean," Harry answered with a grin of his own. "I swapped jobs when I heard you needed assistance. Why did you request a nanny anyway?"
Neville rolled his eyes. "You read the report I sent the Aurors?"
"'Course I did." Harry shuffled his feet. "Most of it. The part that said we'd go hunting for extinct plants in ominous caves."
That wasn't far off the mark. No one had seen the Red Tinted Honey Fungus in decades. Unlike its non-magical relatives, which formed some of the largest existing organisms worldwide, the magical fungus was rather small and used its energy for developing healing properties instead of growing uncontrollably. Only recently had its true potential been discovered. Too late, they had thought, as the plant had been believed to be extinct. Not anymore, though. A few weeks earlier, it had reappeared on a small market in Pakistan. Neville, as the one who'd been in charge of the project team that had researched the fungus' characteristics, had traced the origin of the plant back to a system of caves in central Nepal, in the Annapurna region, near the Thorong-La saddle.
"You should have read the part where I described the ancient culture of the mountain people. They were highly spiritual. The legend says that nearly two thousand years ago there was a witch called Anna Purna. She was powerful and made the soil all around the mountains rich and fertile, giving the people food and hope. Muggles have a similar legend and built temples for her. The witches and wizards who lived in simple stone houses scattered across the region, used the mountain caves for their rituals, making them their sacred places, where they could meditate and regain their strength. They protected the caves from Muggles with Muggle repellent charms. Wizarding folk were welcome, but they didn't want strangers in the caves so they set traps and left curses. This was centuries ago. Today there are no people left who know exactly what is legend and what is true. The magical people of the area avoid the caves, that's why I couldn't find a Nepalese guide and had to ask for an Auror."
Harry nodded and threw his backpack over his shoulder. "Hunting for extinct plants in ominous caves. I said I read it. How dangerous do you think it is?"
Neville considered the question. "It's just a legend. We know that the plant we're looking for comes from one of the caves, and the man who collected it is reportedly still in good health. As long as we're careful and reasonable, we should be safe."
Harry beamed. "Careful and reasonable. I see why they are sending us."
* * *
It was the early morning of day four and they had discovered yet another cave. So far they hadn't had any luck in finding the Honey Fungus. The vegetation in the area was fairly normal and if Neville hadn't seen the fungus with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed that it existed. But he had seen it and so they were still searching.
The entrance to the cave was dark and narrow. They'd nearly missed it, as a fern, growing directly above the opening, provided a green curtain that blocked the cave from view. Neville took a few moments and looked closer at the beautiful plant. The colour was rich and the leaves were sturdy and strong, falling down in gentle waves. The size was unusual for this area, but he'd seen stranger things before. He made a mental note to take a sprig with him on the way back.
Harry was already inside, casting spells. He took his job very seriously. So far they hadn't discovered anything odd or out of place in any of the caves they had visited. There had been no curses, no traps, but Harry said that one could never be too cautious. Now the man who still didn't bother to get a proper haircut was waving his wand in complicated patterns, muttering spells Neville had never heard before.
"It's safe," Harry finally said. "Let's have a look."
Neville followed his friend, both of them casting a Lumos. They walked slowly in the eerie magical light provided by their wands. It smelled strong and rich, like earth and plants, the hint of something subtly sweet lingering in the air. The floor was slippery, overgrown by a rare form of moss that oozed a slimy substance. Neville recognised the plant, but hadn't expected to find it here. It usually grew in warmer regions, closer to the equator. He'd seen it in South India and Sri Lanka before, a few thousand miles away.
The tunnel was leading them downward, deeper into the ground. Neville hoped that the cave was safe. There was a lot of dirt and rocks above them now.
Several minutes later Harry suddenly stopped and Neville bumped into him.
"What?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," Harry said and cast a few more spells. "The tunnel stops over there. Looks like there's some kind of underground chamber."
Cautiously they moved forward, and soon Neville saw that the tunnel indeed ended. A decent sized room was behind it. The walls were solid rock and water was dripping from the ceiling, running down the walls in small rivulets, disappearing through cracks and pooling on the floor, the sound of falling drops a constant whisper.
They entered the room and Neville's attention was immediately drawn to the walls. They were covered in something bright, green and slimy. Some form of algae, he guessed. It smelled foul. There wasn't any light in the cave other than their lit wands, and Neville brought his face closer to the wall. He looked at the green slime intently, not breathing as the stench was too strong, now that his nose was mere inches from the plant.
And suddenly it moved.
Neville jumped back, reacting with an agility that surprised himself.
"Stay away from the walls!" he bellowed and Harry turned around. "It's a Creeping Algae. There are at least a dozen classes, some of them are poisonous."
"'s not jumping, though, yeah?" Harry neither sounded surprised, nor worried. He'd probably seen worse during the five years he'd been an Auror.
Neville shook his head but was soon thinking about the plant again. He couldn't remember seeing them in the tunnel. If they were there and Neville hadn't noticed, it would have been a dangerous mistake. He went to investigate.
"Err, Harry?" he asked moments later bewildered.
"Yeah?"
"Where's the tunnel?" Neville looked blankly at the solid wall. He could have sworn it was where they'd come from, but there was nothing but smooth rock and green slime.
Harry walked back from the other side of the chamber and joined him. "It's gone," he said matter-of-factly.
Several minutes later they both agreed that yes, the tunnel was gone, and no, there was no other way out. A lot of cursing had been necessary to get to that point.
While Harry was casting spells at every inch of rock he could find, Neville sat down in the middle of the room. The walls didn't look like anything could be done by sheer force and he couldn't think of any spell that would help them. He'd secretly cast Alohomora at every wall earlier, thinking that it was worth a try but didn't want Harry to laugh at him. Nothing had happened.
"What do we do now?" he asked hopefully after watching Harry waving his wand for what felt like ages.
"Apparating," was the simple answer. It was delivered with a shrug and a teasing grin.
"Very funny," Neville said. He knew as well as Harry that with increasing altitude, apparating became more and more dangerous. Above 10,000 feet it was nearly impossible to apparate without losing a limb or just evaporating. The fliers the Nepalese Ministry had provided upon their arrival had featured some very disturbing - and moving - pictures
"Isn't there an emergency plan or something? You've been through Auror training. We can't be the first people being stuck in a cave."
Harry didn't answer as he looked for a crack in the wall. He looked intently without getting too close to the algae. Neville watched him, waiting for the moment when Harry would find something that would make him look up, smile, maybe even whoop and most importantly get them both out of the cave.
Two hours later Neville was still watching, Harry was still searching, and the only thing that had changed considerably was the mood.
"Are you sure there is nothing behind that strange stone over here? There must be a reason why the algae avoid the place. They are all over that side of the cave." Neville indicated the plants all around them and pointed to the single bare rock. There simply had to be something, Neville was sure of that.
Harry straightened up slowly from where he was crouching on the floor. "I've checked it twice, Neville," he said, and Neville was slightly alarmed by Harry's tense shoulders and the way he clutched his wand. "Why don't you just find the thing that must be there? Then we can both walk out of here, frolic in the nearby river and find a different cave tomorrow."
"Moody git," Neville muttered and glared at Harry's back.
After investigating the rock, Neville sat down again. He hadn't found anything unusual either. He scraped together the bits and pieces he knew about Creeping Algae for lack of anything else to do. They only grew in damp surroundings, preferably near rivers or lakes, never directly in the water, though. They didn't like bright light. They needed sheltered places, where there would hardly be any movement of air. Neville had once come out in a terrible rash because he hadn't been careful enough in the backroom of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. George had used the algae for shield clothing and Neville had touched it without gloves.
Oh.
Oh.
"Harry, you can stop casting spells."
"Already giving up?"
Neville shook his head. "The algae is used for shield clothing. They absorb magic," he explained. "Your spells don't even reach the rock, much less have any effect."
"Huh." Harry paused and lowered his wand. "So there might be an exit behind the slime? How do we get it off?"
Neville pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. It helped him to think.
"Get rid of the water," Neville finally said. "They will go into a stasis, stop moving and lose their magical properties. They can survive dry periods by slowing down their metabolism. We should add a bit of wind, too, they hate that."
As Harry first started to banish the pools of water and then dried the walls with a modified heating charm, Neville moved his wand in a circular motion, creating a small tornado.
It worked. Within only minutes, the green slime had dried out and stopped moving altogether.
"The shield effect should be gone now," Harry said. "Wanna try?"
Neville shrugged and pointed his wand at each of the walls in turn. "Alohomora." This time he said it out loud. The third spell was successful and a door made of pure rock opened, revealing an exit.
Harry looked at Neville in disbelief. "Alohomora? If this is one of the cursed caves they weren't really inventive."
Cautiously they stepped through the door into a tiny chamber. It looked like a narrow passageway, solid stone walls on either side of them.
Straight ahead their path was blocked by a strange curtain. It was a plant, hanging down from the ceiling to the floor with hundreds of interwoven twigs. It looked almost as solid as the rocks itself. Then there was a cracking sound and the door behind them closed, pushing Neville flush into Harry's back. They had just enough room to stand, and if either of them had been broader, even standing would have been painful.
"Ouch." Neville winced when Harry made a sharp movement. One bony elbow had found a soft spot in the general area of Neville's belly. "Guess we have to suck in our stomachs until we find out how to get out of here."
Harry didn't laugh. Neville thought it had been at least a little bit funny.
Neville was looking over Harry's shoulder at the strange plant. He couldn't make out all the details as there still was only the light provided by the Lumos, but something about it was oddly familiar and there was something at the back of his mind, just out of reach. It kept nagging.
"Guess we'll have to figure something out," Neville said quietly. He'd tried Alohomora again, but the door behind them didn't budge an inch.
"What's there to figure out?" the Auror asked, his wand pointing at the twigs. "We'll blast a hole through it and be out of here in no time."
If Neville could just remember where he'd seen this before. It did look familiar and something wasn't quite right about it. The gentle nagging had become insistent prodding. Some of the twigs were as thick as a finger, some of them reached the girth of Neville's arm. There was a distinct pattern on them and the colour was a very light brown. The thicker ones looked almost yellow. There were no thorns on the twigs, but something akin to pimples. Small black buds were growing scarcely, firmly closed. Almost like...
"Stop," Neville yelled, just as Harry opened his mouth to speak the incantation. "Don't do it, we'll be dead within seconds."
Harry turned his head and gaped, which was rather odd, as their faces were so close and Harry's nose touched Neville's cheek. "What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?"
Neville was grateful when he saw Harry lowering his wand. "I've never seen one that is so big." Neville touched one of the twigs with his thumb and forefinger, rubbed it gently and then sniffed at his fingers. He nodded; the smell was unique.
"It's a Black Spider Fig."
"It's a what?"
"Black Spider Fig," Neville repeated. "They are parasites and their roots sometimes look like a spider's net. They grow on top of trees normally and their roots fall down to the ground like a curtain - or a net. These twigs, you see here, are the roots, that's why I didn't recognise it at first. The fig must grow outside, they need light. See where it comes through the ceiling? The roots just kept growing until they reached the ground of the cave." It was truly magnificent. Neville regretted that he didn't have a camera with him. "It's a magical plant. The roots aren't always solid, they can move. If need be, pretty quickly."
"It moves the roots? Don't tell me it catches prey with them." Harry looked alarmed.
"Oh no, not at all," Neville answered. "They aren't carnivorous. They do it to protect themselves. They have a very soft, vulnerable core, and the roots act like a shield, protecting the core from enemies."
"So why can't we just break through?" Harry raised his wand again.
"If the plant feels threatened, it releases a nerve poison, not unlike some snakes do. See those black buds? That's where the nasty stuff comes from. Your skin absorbs it and releases it into your blood. The death rate is roughly 98%, unless you take the anti-venom before being exposed to the poison."
"Alright," Harry said, inching closer to Neville, away from the plant. The movement in itself was impressive, as Neville hadn't thought it was possible. "No blasting holes. Got it. Is it dangerous if we just touch it? Because I'm very much pressed against it here."
Neville shrugged. "It only reacts when it's attacked. As long as we're not hurting it, you should be fine."
"Great." Harry muttered. "Just bloody fucking great."
He paused for long moments, giving Neville time to look at the rest of their prison more closely. The floor was covered in green, just like the stone walls above their heads. Neville shuffled his feet, noticing how soft it was, like a pillow, or a sponge. The surface was uneven from what he could see, green but with odd little pink spots. Then there was the smell. He recognised it as the sweet odour he'd noticed when they had entered the cave. It was just so much stronger here. He knew the plant, but just like the roots of the fig, it was unusual to find them in a cave.
Even disregarding the fact that there was hardly enough light, it still didn't look right. It looked staged. Like a fake display in one of those gardening fairs. Neville had visited a lot of them, wizarding and Muggle, and always hated the artificially arranged plants.
"This moss is a tidal plant," Neville muttered.
"What?"
"Tidal plants," Neville repeated. "Like the ocean. They live in a constant cycle of increasing and decreasing."
"Increasing what?"
Explaining the concept to Harry helped Neville think, so he didn't mind talking about the basics. "You can smell it, the sweet scent. It will get stronger. The male plants build seeds inside these pink spots. You can notice them getting bigger as time passes. Once they are completely full, they open up and release the seeds in one big cloud. It's how they pollinate the females. The full circle takes about eight hours. After four hours they release the seed, then the pink spots grow back until the plant reaches the starting point again and the cycle starts anew. My guess is that we're about two hours into the cycle, that means in another two they will have reached their peak."
"Thank you, Professor Longbottom. Tidal plants having seedy climaxes. Right. Are they poisonous, too?" Harry was raising his wand again.
Neville wanted to smack the back of Harry's head as it was right in front of his nose. There would have been too much shifting involved, though, so he just pinched Harry's side. "Would you stop that, please? I just told you it will kill us if you hex it."
Harry pushed himself backwards against Neville and Neville into the wall. "Don't pinch me!"
"Sorry," Neville said, not at all convincing.
"Me, too," Harry answered even less convincing.
"Just let me think and stop playing with your wand." The fig, the roots, the moss, the cycle, in a very, very odd way it started to make sense.
Harry was shifting his weight from one foot to the other and Neville could almost hear him trying to be quiet.
"Are you done thinking yet?" Harry finally asked.
"They aren't always solid," Neville said thoughtfully, ignoring Harry and his question. "The roots of the fig, they can move. The whole plant can move. When the ground isn't fertile enough or the core needs more space to grow, or there's some other danger, they move. In that case the core releases modified pollen. The roots receive the pollen with special receptors and react by getting flexible."
"So we just have to find the core, threaten it without the black things killing us and we're good." Harry frowned. "That's easier than finding a bag full of Horcruxes and killing Snakeface, isn't it? Is here a floo somewhere so we can call Hermione?"
There wasn't room enough to kick Harry, so Neville pinched him again.
"Would you listen?" he said after Harry had stopped complaining. "I'm not a potion expert, but I know that Black Spider pollen and the moss seeds can be used for the same potions. They are pretty much interchangeable. In potions they cause the same reaction. And this," the effect of the grand indicating gesture was completely lost, as Harry was facing the other direction and Neville still couldn't lift his arms properly, "doesn't look like it's been growing naturally."
There was a long pause before Harry spoke.
"Come again? Are you saying that we have to stand here for two hours and then the bad-black-spider-plant will let us out because the moss-seed-circle-tidal-plant's orgasm will make it flexible?" Harry looked incredulous, and when he said it like that it sounded indeed a bit far-fetched.
"Well, yes." Neville didn't like the uncertainty in his voice and forced himself to straighten up, knocking his head against the uneven rock behind him. "Yes," he repeated through clenched teeth and the pain in his head. "As long as we do nothing, we'll be safe and get out of here in one piece."
"Brilliant." Harry stifled a groan. "One of my strengths."
Somewhere between finding the solution and half the wait, it had become awkward. There just wasn't enough room, it was way too hot, and there was too much touching involved.
Neville pressed himself with his back against the wall. He was highly aware of just how close Harry was. It didn't help that Harry was still trying not to lean too heavily against the plant, pressing his left buttock against Neville's groin. Neville thought of Hippogriffs - he was terribly scared of them - he thought of Millicent Bulstrode trying to fondle him, he even thought of Snape, but in the end he didn't have a chance. He just hoped Harry wouldn't notice his predicament.
"Are you hard?" Harry asked several minutes later. He didn't seem to have gained even an ounce of sensitivity or tact since he'd left Hogwarts.
"Yes." Because, really, there wasn't enough room to deny anything.
"Oh." The back of Harry's head looked slightly uncomfortable.
"Eloquent."
"Well, what d'you want me to say?"
"Nothing. You brought it up." There was a deafening silence after Neville had said that.
Then Harry snickered, and Neville didn't need a mirror to know that he'd turned a lovely shade of tomato red. "That wasn't... I mean... Oh, shut up."
"Now, who's eloquent?" Harry asked smugly.
The humiliating thing - besides the fact that Neville was hard while being pressed against one of his best friends and trapped in an unknown cave somewhere at the end of the world - was that it didn't go away. On the contrary, the more Neville wanted it to go away and the less he tried to squirm, the more aware he became of Harry's presence and that he was still pressed against his left buttock. And he started to think just how that arse would feel when he touched it. And squeezed it, dug his fingers into the muscled flesh. He would lick the salty skin on the back of Harry's neck and breathe in Harry's scent that was lingering in the air but would be so much stronger if Neville just lowered his head a bit and buried his nose in his friend's hair. He would put his other hand on Harry's hip and slowly move it to the front, unbuckle Harry's trousers, unzip them. He'd touch the skin right above the waistband of Harry's pants, find soft skin and a taut belly and would skim his fingers over tented cotton.
Neville's eyes fluttered shut. He sighed and let his head fall back. It had been far too long since he'd touched another man in more than a friendly way. He needed to stop this.
It was impossible, though. There was the heat caused by standing so close in such a narrow space, the sweet odour of the plants, the cool rock, being so close to someone he once had a crush on and then a gentle hand cupping his arousal and squeezing tentatively.
Wait. A moment.
Neville opened his eyes. He wasn't caught in some bizarre dream. There was still Harry's unruly mop of black hair, the stone walls surrounding them on three sides and the deadly plant blocking their path. But there was also a hand touching the bulge in Neville's trousers and he knew for sure that it wasn't his own.
His breath hitched as there was squeezing again. Neville made a breathy sound and finally looked down, watching the contrast between Harry's pale fingers and the dark fabric of his trousers.
"What are you doing?" Neville whispered weakly. He couldn't stop his hips from moving, pushing himself against Harry's hand. It felt amazing.
"I just thought..." Harry didn't sound confident, but the hand didn't move away either. "Maybe you wanted..." Was Harry leaning back into Neville? "Unless you don't..."
"Don't stop," Neville said. "'s good."
It was nearly impossible to keep himself from rubbing against Harry's hand that was trapped between their bodies. A part of Neville waited for Harry to freak out and shout at Neville, or realise his mistake and stop what he was doing, but the rest of Neville just said 'go with it'. Because, fucking hell, it felt good. Neville bit his lip to keep himself from moaning.
There was a light blush on Harry's cheek from what Neville could see. He leaned down and kissed the side of Harry's neck, tasted the salty skin and cautiously lifted his hand to touch Harry's waist. Neville felt the heat through the thin fabric of the T-shirt. It was better than he'd imagined, moving his hand to Harry's front and then slipping it beneath the restricting top. Harry's belly was flat, and Neville felt the muscles moving under his touch.
"Can I?" he asked breathlessly when his fingers touched the front of Harry's jeans, felt that Harry was hard as well and now toyed with the button. "Please."
Harry nodded jerkily, leaning even more back against Neville. His hand had stilled, but Neville didn't mind, as it helped him to concentrate on opening Harry's trousers. He used both hands now, every so often cupping Harry's trapped bits, his lips still gently sucking on the skin of Harry's neck.
"Oh god." Harry moaned as Neville finally managed to put his hand inside and wrap his fingers around hard flesh. He pushed the jeans and boxers down past Harry's hips and pressed his groin against the naked backside, moving his own hips in small circles while he stroked Harry's cock slowly.
"Faster." It was more a plea than a request and the little sob Harry made when Neville complied must have been one of the sexiest noises Neville had ever heard.
It didn't take long. Harry arched his back, groaned quietly and shuddered as he came warm and wet in Neville's hand.
Neither of them spoke for a long time. Neville used his wand to spell his hand clean and whimpered just a bit when Harry moved his backside and rubbed against Neville's still erect cock.
Harry moved some more. "Let me," he said.
Harry sounded breathless and his words were a bit slurred. Still, he started to try and turn around. His shoulder bumped into Neville's and he was stuck. To ease the movement, Neville lifted his arm and Harry winced once - Neville didn't ask why - and turned some more. His hip rubbed against Neville's groin and Neville's hips jerked in response, which caused his arm to twitch and he knocked the glasses off Harry's face just as Harry managed to completely turn around.
"Shit!" Harry exclaimed. His lips were so close now, that Neville felt hot breath on his face.
"What?"
"Can't see. My glasses." Harry tried to bend down, but there just wasn't enough room, the only thing he managed was to knock his nose against Neville's collarbone. "Fuck. Hang on."
Harry could have summoned them, but as he dropped to his knees, his mouth mere inches from Neville's crotch, Neville decided that this was a good time to just shut up. Because, instead of taking his glasses, Harry was nuzzling Neville's groin.
Neville wasn't sure if it meant what he thought it meant, but he'd always been full of hope - he'd had to be to survive living with his gran - and he groaned.
Harry had opened his trousers in record time and pulled them down. Neville looked down and saw that Harry's were still around his thighs and the picture was so debauched and decadent that he couldn't help but push forward, pressing his length against Harry's face in the process. He cursed.
Then he felt something slippery and wet on his balls. Harry was licking them, his tongue prodding and circling, insistent and firm, not the least bit hesitant. It couldn't be the first time Harry was doing this. It explained a few things. For example, why he'd never got back together with Ginny after the war, or why he was never seen with any girls.
Not that Neville gave a fuck at the moment. Harry had just wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and sucked, Neville couldn't be arsed to think. Not when he was so deep in Harry's mouth, an insistent tongue pressing against him, one hand cupping his ever tightening testicles. Neville fisted his hands in Harry's hair, could hear and feel Harry humming in agreement. Then Harry sucked again and Neville's hips jerked.
"Merlin, fuck, yes." The words were merely broken phrases, interrupted by moans and hisses.
"Close...," was all the warning Harry got before Neville came hard down his friend's throat, pushing against the hands that were now keeping his hips in place.
They stayed like this for long moments. Then Harry found his glasses and they straightened their clothes.
The rest of the time they spent in awkward silence, pointedly not looking at each other, the minutes stretching into days. And finally, finally it was time. The light changed imperceptibly and the scent in the chamber changed as well. It became sweeter, more dense, seemed to thicken the air and made it hard to breathe. Minutes later Neville had to close his eyes because by now they were stinging and tears were threatening to run down his cheeks. It couldn't be long now.
The creaking sound was quiet at first but soon became almost deafening. They had forgotten all awkwardness. Neville's arms were wrapped protectively around Harry, who still had his back to the plant. Harry pressed them both against the wall and Neville held him as hard as he could. He didn't see what was happening because he still had to have his eyes closed, but the noises and the sudden movement of the air was enough to paint a clear picture.
Neville opened his eyes when he felt cooler air hit his face and the smell became less intense. The plant was still there, but what had been solid, entwined roots before, were now loosely hanging ropes.
Carefully they stepped out of the alcove into another chamber. This one was bigger. It was roughly the size of Hogwarts' Great Hall. All along the walls of the cave were big bushes, as tall as the two men. Other than the bushes, there were only rocks. Neville started to hate rocks. There was a bit of light coming from above them, but by no means it was bright. Neville wondered again how the plants could grow in the semi-darkness.
The next thing Neville saw, was Harry yelling at a plant and setting it on fire.
"Stop it!" Neville glared and cast an Aguamenti. He wasn't too sorry that the cold water didn't only douse the fire but also drenched Harry. "What are you doing?"
"What are you doing." Harry looked kind of cute, all soppy and wet and angry, red blotches adorning his face. "It's a Devil's Snare. I know these. It has tendrils and is going to kill us. I was in the middle of one of these monsters years ago. I know them."
Neville grinned and touched the harmless plant. "It's just a Flitterbloom. It looks like Devil's Snare, but it's not dangerous." He patted the gently moving plant. They often came in pots, the size of these bushes was remarkable. "Aren't you a pretty one?" he cooed. "Sorry, that the big bad Auror wanted to hurt you. He was scared. It's not too bad, though. His aim was off."
Harry huffed and charmed himself dry. Neville didn't snicker. Much.
"So what now?" Despite the teasing, Neville was tired, hungry, sweaty and just wanted to get out of the damn cave. He sat down on the floor and watched Harry do his Auror stuff.
"There's a passage, Nev," Harry called from the other end of the chamber. "Right behind those Flitterthings."
Neville sighed and forced himself to get up. "And there's nothing blocking the path?"
"Doesn't seem so," Harry answered and Neville saw him casting another spell. "Can't find anything fishy. No curses, shields, no loose rocks or trap doors. I'll go and have a look. Wait until I call you."
Neville was in the middle of the room now and tilted his head. Something was off. Something in the line of the bushes wasn't quite right. There was a break or something. There was practically no light in that part of the cave. Neville squinted. No, it wasn't a break, more like a dip. Or maybe it was a hump? Neville pondered. He looked away from the breaky, dippy, humpy thing as sometimes things made more sense when one didn't focus on the details. When he remembered that Flitterblooms didn't like dark places, while a different plant only grew where there was no light, he started to run.
"Harry, stop! Don't move." But it was already too late. Harry was standing in the middle of a huge bush of Devil's Snare, unable to cast a spell because the plant had trapped his hands, feet, arms, legs, and the rest of him.
When Neville came closer the differences were obvious - at least to him. "Don't move," he repeated and ignited a fire that both radiated heat and brought light to the dark corner. The plant retreated instantly.
"You said they weren't dangerous," Harry wheezed. "You said they were flitterers."
"They are." Neville pointed at the plants all around him. "This one is a Devil's Snare. Didn't you say you were already stuck in one once? That's how they look like."
"They look the bloody same," Harry muttered and dusted off his filthy robes. "That answers the question of why there were no curses. I'll try again."
Neville started to walk but Harry pointed his wand at him.
"You stay here, plant whisperer. I'll tell you when it's safe." Harry had already turned around and walked a few steps before he added, "or when I need rescuing."
Getting out of the cave from there was easy. A tunnel led them outside and they were back in the camp long before midnight, still a bit shaken, but healthy enough to eat more Daal Bat than at least ten Nepalis and empty a full bottle of Firewhiskey.
* * *
It was ten caves and thirteen days later. Finally they were done. Neville had collected more than fifty samples, among them the famous fungus. He would return to London with the plant, would go straight into the Ministry, report it, and demand the license to try and cultivate it. From a herbologist's point of view, the discovery of the fungus was a miracle, but Neville knew that it was nothing compared to what it meant for the potion makers. The possibilities were overwhelming and, admittedly, a bit frightening. He wasn't yet in London, though. At the moment, he was still in a small and reasonably tidy hotel room in the wizarding part of Pokhara and he kept thinking about other things.
Neville kept thinking about how odd those last days had been. Since Hogwarts the two of them had been close friends. But during the last days, since the cursed cave, things had changed. He knew, for example, that Harry wore the same trousers he'd owned for years. But so far they had never seemed so tight around his backside. There should be no reason either, that Neville constantly had the urge to touch Harry's flat chest or run his hands along the line of Harry's spine.
And there were some pictures Neville just couldn't get out of his head.
Mainly his cock in Harry's mouth.
And Harry's cock in his hand.
And all the other possibilities involving various body parts.
After watching the clock move in slow circles from nine to ten to eleven, obsessing over the musky scent of Harry's neck and the feel of rough stubble against his thighs, Neville got up. He might not have Gryffindor's sword with him, but he was still a herbologist. He'd said the last part out loud and had to admit that it had sounded better in his head. Herbologists were brave people, he reasoned as he opened the door of his room and stepped outside. They were handling dangerous, venomous plants on a daily basis. In no way did they deserve some of the mocking they had to endure.
Harry's room was just down the hall and Neville already had his hand raised to knock when he stopped himself with a frown on his face. He wasn't as brave as the great Harry Potter - Neville knew that was unfair, Harry didn't see himself like that - or any other Auror. He wasn't the most attractive bloke around. But why did people always want the handsome, adventurous, confident men? Why hadn't Harry said something, anything?
Neville turned around and stomped back to his room, still scowling. His work was important, damn it. He closed the door behind himself with more force than necessary. On various occasions he'd been told that he was a good lover and very considerate. Neville scowled some more, that had sounded bad, even in his head. What was wrong with being average?
Neville leaned with his back against the door, annoyed at the world in general and Harry in particular. Harry hadn't even acknowledged the incident in the cave. Granted, Neville hadn't either, but that wasn't the point. Not at all. And if Harry didn't want him, fine!. He was going to have a shower and then go to bed. No problem at all.
As Neville stepped out of the shower, he heard someone knocking at the door. Still wet, he took a towel and dried his face, then wrapped it around his hips. There was knocking again and Neville hurried, stubbing his toe on the way out of the room. He was cursing when he reached for the doorknob, partly because his toe was aching, partly because the person on the other side of the door was knocking yet again.
Harry must have been leaning against the door, as when the door opened, he stumbled inside, nearly knocking them both over. Neville caught him against his naked chest. How convenient, Neville thought sardonically.
"Neville!" Even though he'd just tried to knock down Neville's door, Harry still looked surprised. "You just got out of the shower."
Neville raised his eyebrows, let go of Harry and didn't move as his friend closed the door.
"There's something you wanted?" he asked tersely and added, "It's late."
"Uh, yeah," Harry pulled off his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his t-shirt. "I thought, maybe, we could... talk."
Neville pursed his lips. He'd waited for a talk for days and now that he was annoyed, naked and dripping on the floor, Harry wanted to talk? Probably tell him that the incident in the cave had been a mistake and that they were so much better off as friends? The Boy-Who-Pretended-To-Be-Straight wouldn't want the round-faced gentle herbologist. Even if it wasn't easy to handle dangerous plants everyday, not to mention that Ginny Weasley was Neville's best friend. Now that required a whole new level of courage. Neville scowled again, this time at his own mind for rambling.
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked. "We don't have to talk." Neville saw Harry's throat working as he swallowed. "We could do... other things."
"Other things?" Neville asked incredulously. "Aren't you a charmer."
"I wasn't sure if you..." Harry was standing with his back against the door now and shrugged. "You didn't say anything."
"I didn't say anything? What do you mean I didn't say anything? Was I supposed to say anything? Why didn't you say anything?" Just maybe that was a bit hypocritical, but Neville buried it somewhere deep in his mind, possibly in a box labelled 'Denial'.
"Err, what?" Harry looked puzzled.
Neville stepped closer. They were almost touching now and Neville shivered slightly, as he could feel the other man's warmth in counterpoint to the cooling water on his skin.
"You're an arse. You haven't said a fucking word. For days. And now you come in here in the middle of the night and want to do things? What did you think? Good old Professor Longbottom is here, conveniently available for a quickie?"
Harry put his glasses back on. He looked crestfallen, and oddly small. "That wasn't, what I... I'm sorry Nev. About this, and the cave. I really fucked up there. The rocks, and the plants, and the Devil's Snare. I was supposed to protect you. Made a big joke out of myself. I can understand if you don't want to. Me, that is." He paused and Harry's cheeks were slightly pink when he continued. "'m not sorry for, y'know." He spoke very quietly now. "Touching you."
He was silent, as if waiting for Neville to say something. When nothing came, Harry said, "I should go back to my room."
He didn't move, though, and his eyes were glued to Neville's lips.
"You should."
Neville didn't remember when he'd moved forward again, when he'd started to cup Harry's face with one hand, and why his nose was now touching Harry's cheek. He felt hands on his bare waist and sighed as his lips touched the corner of Harry's mouth.
"'m sorry," Harry whispered.
"Me, too," Neville answered.
Just as he had in the cave, Neville felt Harry's breath on his face, but this time, he didn't move away. Goosebumps erupted on his back, where Harry's hands were moving slowly, and he moved his torso minutely, as he craved the friction of Harry's shirt against his nipples.
Neville's tongue sneaked out and tasted Harry's lips. His heart was beating too fast and for a moment he wasn't sure if he'd be brave enough to move his head and make it a real kiss.
He wouldn't have needed to worry. Harry did it for him.
Their lips touched lightly at first, moving against each other, exploring the other's shape and texture. It was sensual and exciting in the way only first kisses could be. Neville's hand slid to the back of Harry's head and he pulled as he tilted his head. The movement deepened the kiss and he gasped into Harry's mouth. Harry made a soft sound in return and parted his lips. Their tongues met for the first time, tentative licks soon becoming more confident.
Neville gasped as Harry pulled him close with his hands on his bare arse. A small part of his mind wondered where the towel had gone to. But as his naked cock rubbed against the rough denim of Harry's jeans and he felt that Harry was just as hard, he decided that he didn't need to know.
Harry's clothes disappeared, too, one by one fumbled away by both of them between frantic kisses. Their moans were lost in each other's mouths when their naked bodies finally touched from knee to shoulder. Harry's hands were still kneading the flesh of Neville's arse and Neville had grabbed one of Harry's legs and pulled it up to his waist. Harry broke the kiss with a colourful curse and leaned his head back against the door, baring his throat.
Neville ran his lips across Harry's jaw and down his neck, the stubble almost too rough for the sensitive skin. Neville didn't mind, though. He lowered his head and dipped his tongue into the hollow of Harry's throat, his hand making sure that Harry's leg stayed where it was.
"What did you want to talk about," Neville asked, his voice not nearly as nonchalant as he would have wanted it to be.
Harry groaned. Neville felt the vibrations of the sound with his lips on Harry's throat. "I lied," Harry said. "I didn't want to talk.
Neville was moving his hips in small circles and he had slipped his free hand between Harry's back and the door, slowly moving it downwards. He made a humming sound when he reached the very top of Harry's arse, got to know the soft swell of Harry's cheeks by touch.
"What did you want?" Neville made an embarrassing whimpering sound as Harry hand sneakily found its way between their bodies and grabbed Neville's erection.
"This."
Neville sucked sharply on Harry's neck and ran his fingers along the crease between Harry's cheeks. Harry pushed back against Neville's hand, and Neville dared to touch him even more intimately. He pressed against the soft skin directly behind Harry's balls, and dragged his fingers upwards, groaned at the change of texture when he reached puckered skin. He applied pressure without pushing inside.
"What did you want?" Neville asked again, kissing his way from Harry's throat to his ear.
Harry seemed to be torn between trying to push back against Neville's fingers and push forward against Neville's cock. He huffed. "This. Wanted to kiss you." Harry groaned and bucked his hips as Neville pressed just a bit more against the tight ring of muscles. "Been thinking about touching you since the cave." Neville bit Harry's ear softly and the hand around his cock tightened its grip. "Wanted you to fucking fuck me, you teasing git. Now kiss me and get on with it." Harry sounded both frustrated and slightly irritated.
Neville's mouth went dry when he heard the words, even as he chuckled breathlessly. But he did as he was told.
They kissed until Harry, who seemed to be impatient in everything he did, turned around and spread his legs, offering himself to Neville who prepared him with trembling hands, using his wand to conjure what he needed. He really hadn't thought of bringing lubrication to a herbal expedition.
It all didn't matter when Neville slid inside Harry. It was slick and tight and hot. The pressure around his cock increased to a point where it was hard to breathe and impossible not to moan with every movement. Harry's breaths were coming in short gasps. He arched his back, his hands braced against the dark wood of the door, his arse pushing backwards, his body silently begging for more.
Neville held himself deep inside with his hands on Harry's hips, his fingers leaving small bruises on the soft skin. Harry's thighs trembled, Neville could feel it against his own. Drops of sweat were gathering in the nape of Neville's neck from the effort to keep still. He finally moved his hands - but only that. The tips of his fingers brushed Harry's hard length on their way up his body. Neville cradled Harry's jaw in one hand and turned his head to catch Harry's lips in an awkward kiss. The thumb of the other hand circled one of Harry's nipples. Harry groaned into Neville's mouth and closed his eyes.
Neville thrust his tongue into Harry's mouth just as he tweaked his nipple sharply. He swallowed the gasp and answered with one of his own as Harry clenched around him. He soothed the nipple with his flat palm and rocked his hips. Harry whimpered in return.
"Please, Nev, please," he whispered directly into Neville's mouth.
"Yes." The single syllable was stretched into a sharp hiss as Neville pulled out and thrust back in. This time he didn't stop, though, he kept moving, stroking Harry from the inside, pushing Harry's cock into his hand that was now pressing against the hardness. Harry moaned again, and with the hand on his jaw, Neville tilted Harry's head, kissed the salty skin from ear to shoulder.
There were white spots around the edges of Neville's vision. Everything was tight and hot; Harry's arse, Neville's skin, his balls, every single fucking nerve in his body. "I'm not going to last," he said with his lips touching Harry's ear.
Harry only nodded, the small movement sending shivers through Neville's body. His control was slipping sideways, his thrusts were getting erratic. He lost the perfect rhythm, but it didn't matter, as everything else was perfect; like the drop of sweat he licked off Harry's neck, or the way Harry's hands were balled into fists against the door so tightly that his knuckles were white, or the nearly obscene but utterly erotic sound their bodies made as they came together over and over again.
Harry was trembling more than ever and Neville stroked his cock in time with the movement of his hips. He felt his climax approaching and he knew he didn't have a chance in hell to prolong what they were doing. He let go of Harry's jaw and tweaked his nipple again, tugged on his cock and pushed deep inside. It was enough to make Harry come thick and warm over Neville's hand, his body jerking in Neville's arms. Neville closed his eyes at the feel of Harry's release on him and only moments later he was falling over the edge as well, sinking in deep, nearly sobbing when pleasure hit him hard.
* * *
It was hours later and Neville didn't think he'd ever felt so tired. They had found his bed at some point, but not much sleeping had been going on through the night.
"We'll have to get up soon," he mumbled, his lips firmly attached to Harry's neck. He wasn't yet ready to stop kissing the mark he'd left earlier.
"Ya think?" Harry's reply sounded just as tired.
"Portkey, Auror Potter." Neville's hand found the soft curve of Harry's bum and he squeezed.
"Fuck the portkey, Professor," Harry said drowsily and wiggled his bum. "We're on a bloody adventure."