Luna grew up reading her father's 'other' magazine. When she tries to pass that knowledge over to Harry, things start to go strangely.
Harry paused in his frustrated pacing and looked at the blond girl by the door of the dusty old classroom.
“Oh yes.” She said, nodding eagerly. “Ron seemed quite certain you were just in your room when Hermione asked, so one could hardly expect to find you in an old classroom.”
He shook his head and returned to the path he’d been agitatedly wearing into the smooth stones.
“My, you don’t seem quite yourself Harry, have you been overcome with the snikles?”
“Er…no, I don’t think so Luna.”
“Ah, that’s good then, I was afraid we’d have to burn you…to keep the infection from spreading you know.”
That was almost enough to break Harry from his thoughts, but he shook his head and kept on pacing, hoping the friendly, but rather disquieting girl would leave. Rather than standing by the door looking around at the wrecked furniture.
He wasn’t rude enough to tell her to go, and she might not listen anyway.
No such luck.
“Well I’m sure it’s not as interesting as looking for Horse-Hung Hazers, but what’s making you so grumpy?”
Fine, if she wanted to stay around…
“Everyone’s acting like I’ll kill them! Every time I talk to them it’s like they’re trying to get away as fast as possible!”
He flicked his wand and sent an already broken chair flying into a wall.
“Everyone’s whispering behind my back, like they all believe I’m nutters or something, even people who were friendly before. It’s like everyone’s suddenly listening to Malfoy or…”
He stopped, leaning against a wall. This was ridiculous; he was acting like a child. Next he would be whining about Umbridge and her detentions.
“Oh, dear. It seems you’ve been overcome by the irit-ants.”
He stiffened as slim arms wrapped around his body, small, soft hands pressing against his chest as a soft body melted against his back.
“Luna, what are you…”
“I’m just helping you with your irit-ant problem; this is the surest way to get rid of the symptoms, though the creatures themselves can’t really be stopped. Just relax.”
He trembled as her soft breath tickled his neck, sending tremors across his body and a flush across his face.
Harry stood there, the slim girl pressing her small, soft chest against his back and found that for all her oddness, she was right.
He did feel better.
The sensation lasted even after they left for the dormitories.
Even his dorm-mate’s furtive glances couldn’t anger him that night.
The next morning, the feeling was gone, and the looks and whispers started to grate once again.
It was almost a week before is frustrations managed to overcome his own lingering embarrassment, and several days past that before he managed to find his strange new friend.
She looked him over with disturbing intensity before smiling brightly.
“My, the irit-ants seem unusually attracted to you, let’s quiet them down shall we?”
“Er, thanks Luna.” He said as he followed her through the halls towards who knew where.
She turned her head almost all the way around, which sent shivers up his spine at the unnaturalness.
“Isn’t that what friends are for? I’m not sure of course, but I have been doing some research.”
“Besides,” she smiled, and he suddenly wondered about how she knew where she was going with her head turned to look at him, “I’m starting to attract a colony myself, you can help me after.”
He let the conversation lapse into silence and followed her through the hallways; the dust of their passage leaving swirling motes in the flickering torchlight.
Not for the first time, he wished that wizards would improve their lighting. Everlasting Torches could turn anyplace eerie.
Finally Luna turned around and opened a door seemingly at random, ushering him into a room that looked suspiciously less…unused…than the hallways they had passed through.
He looked around at the old, but clean furniture, including the large four-poster with drawn curtains.
“Luna, where are we?”
“This is where I sleep.”
He turned towards her and flushed faintly as she tossed her robes onto a dresser, leaving her in loose trousers and a blouse.
“Th…this is your room?”
“Now what would give you that idea?” she asked, looking honestly puzzled, “This is where I sleep.”
Harry decided to drop it, and fidgeted under her gaze for a few more moments before she dropped into an armchair, spread her legs and patted the seat between them.
“Well, those irit-ants won’t settle down on their own you know.”
He moved to sit, but she pushed him up with a huff.
“Really, your robes will get in the way; this will work much better without that thick cloth interfering.”
He flushed again; he’d grown used to the extra layer of the robes in the last years.
But her ideas had worked the last time.
He undid the front catches and shrugged the heavy garment off, laying it on the ground by the chair before sitting carefully between the young witches legs.
Her soft hands wrapped around him, one sliding over his stomach to rest a gentle hand on his waist, the other slithering across his chest and griping lightly at his shoulder.
She pulled him back onto her chest, her small breasts flattening against his back as her hair and her breath danced across the skin of his neck.
He was about to relax into her when her legs wrapped around his own, pressing her thighs to his hips as she ran her calves along his inner thighs and pulled his legs apart.
“There,” her breath tickled in his ear, and he felt himself stir, “This should be much more productive.”
He closed his eyes and tried to relax.
And not to embarrass himself utterly.
It really was wonderful, laying in the girl’s arms; letting his head rest against the thick stuffing of the chair.
After awhile, all his cares slid away, and he let himself drown in sensation.
Her startled words brought him out of his reverie, and he spent a moment looking around before realizing with a sinking feeling what had drawn her attention.
“I…I’m really sorr…”
“Hmm, you should have told me you’re trouser snake wanted to play, it’s not healthy to leave them waiting for long.”
He felt himself flex as her hand left his waist and stroked his tented trousers.
“If you don’t play with them quickly, they get angry and start to hurt, much better to take care of them on the spot.”
He could only groan lightly in response as she slid her hand into his shorts and dropped the other from his shoulder to unfasten his trousers.
“There, that’s much better” she said after she bared him to the air.
Quiet fell except for his soft groans as her cool, slim fingers worked over his swollen flesh, stroking, squeezing, cupping, fondling…
He didn’t last long, a louder groan tore from his throat and his hips bucked under her restraining legs as he shuddered in release.
He collapsed back against her, head lolling on her shoulder as tension ran out of him. He could feel a single warm hand cupping him gently. He turned his head and saw her bring the other to her lips, tipping his seed into her mouth before licking her fingers clean.
He’d never seen anything half as erotic in his life.
”Hmm, salty, and a bit bitter, but not terrible.”
Her small, pink tongue darted out to slide across her lips, drawing another groan from his.
She gave him a final squeeze and released him, patting his side patiently.
“Alright, now it’s my turn.”
Dimly, Harry remembered that Luna had said she could use help with her own…irit-ants. He stood slowly and redid his trousers, trying to keep his face from going beet red.
He settled himself in the chair and started as she dropped casually between his knees, squirming backwards to snuggle against him in a way that sent delightful thrills through his body.
He spent a moment wondering where to put his hands before settling for the same positions she had and fumbling for them.
He was acutely conscious of the way her breasts rested to either side of his arms, of the join of her legs just barely below and to the side of his other hand. Her warm weight felt wonderful against his chest.
“You can’t forget the legs Harry, they’re very important.”
He flushed, remembering how her thin legs had wrapped around his own. He hesitated, but brought his own up and over to rest on her thighs.
She sighed, snuggling further into his awkward embrace.
“You’re quite good at this Harry, very comfortable.”
“Er, thanks.” He paused. “You as well.”
“Well of course.”
Silence fell, the two wrapped together on the armchair lost in pleasant thoughts.
Harry felt himself grow again, his hard length pressed between his stomach and the girls back, her rear rubbing at the base of his shaft.
It was impossible for her not to notice, but she just hummed and wiggled her bum against him, drawing a quiet moan from his lips.
"Would you mind scratching an itch for me, it’s always better when someone else helps with these things."
Her hands took hold of his, shoving one down against her warm crotch and pulling the other to her breast.
He started to rub and squeeze, trying to imitate what she had done for him, which seemed to work alright, to judge from her soft sounds.
She squirmed, her bum stroking against his trapped flesh almost like her hands had before. His hips bucked against her unconsciously, and they both moaned.
He dropped his hand from her chest, ignoring her faint whine as he fumbled with the button of her trousers, finally getting them open and plunging his hand between her thighs, feeling the moist heat of her sex through the damp knickers.
She groaned, pushing herself against his kneading hand as he slid the other up, under her blouse to cup and squeeze at her bare breast.
They twisted together on the chair, lost in the excitement and pleasure. He felt an impulse, and pinched at her hard nipple, earning a squeal of delight as her hips bucked and his fingers slid under the last layer of cloth and scraped over the damp, slick skin of her burning lips.
He shifted his attention to her other breast, fingers slowly running in and out of her body as she writhed against his bulging member. He pushed her knickers further aside and rubbed his thumb between her lips as he added another finger inside her and her voice rose.
He pinched her other nipple, harder this time, twisting the soft flesh without thought.
His thumb caught on a nub between her lips, and he pressed down, feeling the nub flatten and shift against hard bone.
Luna threw her head back and howled, her back arching impossibly as she bucked madly against his hand, shoving her swollen chest into his rough fingers and wailing until her breath wheezed before collapsing boneless against him, shuddering and flushed.
He sat there, hands still pressed against her tender flesh as she slowly calmed herself.
“Th…thank you, Harry.”
It was the first time he’d ever heard her stutter; it was oddly empowering, to think that he had brought her to this state.
“Now, lets…” she paused to take a breath, “let’s play with that poor trouser snake you’ve got pinned up.”
She slid to the floor and turned, hands pulling at her thin blouse and tossing it to the side, leaving her bare from the waist. She knelt between his thin knees, blond hair a mess of tangles, a flush spreading past her face to the tops of her breasts, and he felt he had never seen anything as enticing as she was then.
Her long fingers plucked his trousers open and pulled them down, baring his dripping flesh to her eyes.
And her hands, she trailed those same fingers along the shaft, scraping gently at the base of his head as her large, gleaming eyes stared hungrily.
“You really should play with him more often, you know, it’s not good to keep them caged for to long, even when they’re not showing impatience.”
Before he could manage a reply, she leaned in, running that small, pink tongue from the base of his shaft to the head, swirling around the purple knob once before retreating.
His head fell back with a gasp, and he didn’t bother to try and look down again, simply letting her do as she wished.
She ran her tongue down from the head, tracing the soft flesh on the underside of his member and lapping softly at the base before she leaned in further and greedily sucked a ball into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it as she scraped her teeth against the soft flesh of the sack.
She let it free and captured the other, lavishing it with the same attention before trailing her soft lips back up to the head, engulfing him slowly bobbing those first inches while her tongue flicked over the soft underside.
His hips bucked forward as he released, pushing his swollen head against the back of her mouth as he thrashed.
She stumbled back, managing not to choke and cough, rolling his seed in her mouth as he settled, the last spurt splashing across her pale chest.
He watched, half awake, as she reached for a small bottle and scooped the seed from her chest into it, adding what she had saved in her mouth. She corked the bottle and stood, offering him a hand.
He stood, unsteadily at first, and slowly put his clothing back into a semblance of order, trying to ignore her bare torso as he did so.
“I’m… sorry about that…” he trailed off, unable to finish.
“It’s alright,” she said airily, “besides, what are friends for?”
“Er, right, thanks.”
She nodded, still looking t him with her strange eyes. “If the irit-ants start bothering you again, you’re welcome to visit.”
He nodded, somewhat nervously, “I…I will, thanks.”
He paused awkwardly, and then turned to leave. His hand was on the door when he stopped, half turning back.
“Luna, I…I think the…irit-ants will be troubling me quite a lot this year. C…could we meet again soon?”
“Of course!” she smiled brightly, “I’ll be waiting!”
He smiled, “Me too.”
As he shut the door behind him and leaned into the wall, taking out the Marauders Map, he thought about what had just happened.
And tomorrow was a Sunday, so he could even sleep in.
Maybe this will be a good year after all.
He activated the map and looked for the cluster of Gryffindors that would lead him to the common room, a glance at his watch showed him it was well past curfew, and he had no desire for a detention.
Had he bothered to look at his own location, centered on the map, he would have been…surprised.
Luna smiled at the door for a moment before she turned and put the bottle of cum on a shelf, it would take a few days to brew the right potion, but Harry had been nice enough to supply her with more than enough for several doses.
She pushed her trousers and soaked knickers off, padding over to the four-poster and pulling back the curtains.
“I’m sorry pet, those irit-ant atacks are a real problem; I do wish daddy could find a way to get rid of them.”
She crawled next to the silenced, spread-eagle girl, who had given up struggling against her bonds hours ago.
“Now then,” she said, running a hand over the girls swollen abdomen, “just a few more hours, and we’ll be ready to flush those disoberies right out of you; that should keep the insolency swarms away.”
Luna swung a leg over the smaller girl and settled her weight on the mounded stomach, making the little Asian squirm uncomfortably as the water inside her tried to make its way past the constipation jinx she was under. The blond took a moment to savor the look of the small face distorted by a rubber ball in the mouth, purely for show of course, the magic kept her pet quiet.
Luna hummed contentedly, rocking her slick thighs over the taught skin of her pet. She didn’t deign to notice the frantic writhing, nor the pleading look in the girl’s eyes.
“I think, if you’re very good, I might even let you play a new game.”
She leaned down to murmur into the captive’s ear, pressing her still slick breasts against the dark haired girl’s almost flat chest.
“Won’t that be fun, little Su-Li?”
“I say young man, you look quite the sight!”
Harry ignored the offended portrait; still feeling elated from his time in Luna’s room, and hauled himself through the portrait hole and into the flickering light of the common room.
His friends were waiting for him.
“Bloody hell Harry, what happened to you?”
Hermione cut him off with a disdainful sniff.
“Really, he was probably with Cho.”
Both boys swung to look at her.
“Well honestly,” she huffed, putting her book aside, “It’s obvious she’s interested, she’s been sneaking glances at you since term started.”
She paused; looking over Harry’s disheveled clothes and wrinkling her nose disgustedly.
“You really should make more of an effort to be discrete.”
And with that, she turned and went up the girl’s stairs.
Harry looked at Ron, who just shook his head.
“Good on you mate!”
With a staggering slap to the back, he too disappeared towards the dorms.
Harry stood there in the common room, the flickering fire casting a dozen shadows on the walls.
Su squirmed as her mistress nuzzled at her ear. The weight on her stomach was horribly uncomfortable.
It was her own fault, of course, she had been to one to make the mistake, and to try and avoid the blame. It was only right that mistress punish her.
“Now then, you’ve been taking you’re punishment so well, pet, I think you deserve a distraction for a bit.”
Su hummed as her mistress stroked her cheek, not that the silencing charm let the sound carry. She shook with relief when mistress slid off her, easing the pressure inside.
“Stay still, pet.”
Su tensed, holding her aching limbs spread as her mistress undid her bonds.
“Sweet little Su-Li.” Mistress’ breath was hot in her ear.
“Turn over, on your knees.”
Su turned her aching form as quickly as she could manage, silently thanking her owner as she tucked her legs under her and gripped the head of the bed.
A delicate hand on her bum was all the warning she had before a long tongue squirmed into her folds, and soft fingers slid up her thighs to tease at her sex.
Soon after, Su Li was very grateful for the Silencing charm…She didn’t have to hold her squeals.
“…Thursday, each of you will begin an attempt to brew Curatio Exussum. Though each of you will doubtless fail, it is important that you record how you fail, as I will expect three rolls of parchment…Potter, have you heard a single word I have said?”
Harry started nervously, he’d been daydreaming of his newly made favorite memory, what had Snape been talking about…”
“Well, Mister Potter…”
“Er…you were saying we would be working on the burn healing salve…sir?”
Harry swallowed as Snape’s lips thinned; sometimes he wondered what his father had done to make the man so disagreeable, though usually he just decided his professor had been born that way.
“And what, Mister Potter, is the prime ingredient in Curatio Exussum?”
He’d read this just yesterday when he rushed through his homework, it was some sort of egg…
“Um…Ashwinder eggs, Professor.”
Snape’s scowl deepened, Harry could already tell what was coming, a string of questions until he got one wrong and was assigned detention.
“Perhaps, Potter, there is indeed something between your ears after all. What reacts with the Ashwinder eggs to reverse the heating properties?”
This one he knew, it was right there on page 47 of Monengut…
He lost it, he could remember exactly where the answer was, but he couldn’t quite recall what it was.
“…I…I don’t recall, sir.”
“Then again, perhaps not. Detention at eight this evening.”
Harry grit his teeth.
I knew it.
“As I was saying, I will expect three rolls of parchment detailing your attempt at the potion, and a further two explaining your mistakes, and how they led to your final result. I trust all of you will remember to use the reaction tables in appendix three of Monengut…”
“Bloody unfair, mate, how could he expect you to know that?”
“Honestly, Ron, it was part of the assignment from last week, didn’t you…”
Harry tuned out his friends bickering across him, trying to at least appear to be taking notes.
This year was not looking good, with the exception of a few bright spots.
I can’t even see Luna tonight, bloody bastard.
“Mister Weasley, if you’re quite done…”
Ron dropped back onto the bench, mouthing curses.
“Four points from Gryffindor for disrupting class, Mister Weasley.”
Harry actually had to hold Ron in his seat for the rest of the lesson.
He was not amused as they left for lunch.
“S’bollocks is what, pickin on us like that!”
Harry mumbled something agreeable and shoveled more roast on to his plate. He’d been held up by Umbridge after lessons, and had only arrived in the great hall minutes ago.
And Snape’s detention was soon to start.
Never a fucking break.
He finished his plate and decided not to refill it.
Whatever Snape had planned, it was likely to be unsettling.
“Harry, there are flitzgiboons in your hair, would you like me to help you with that?”
Harry could feel the silence descend around him as heads turned.
He picked a tart off a platter and stared at it, hard.
“How do you get rid of them Luna?”
He still couldn’t tell if she actually meant most of what she said or if it was all some kind of elaborate joke.
Her perfectly normal tone wasn’t helping.
“Well, normally, you’d have to remove their nest and heat the nesting layer, so they don’t grow back…come to think of this, perhaps we should do this somewhere else, the first years might get the wrong idea...”
He clambered off the bench and picked up his bag.
“Alright then, why not.”
He excused himself to his friends and headed for the doors, Luna glancing around as she followed behind him.
He had a half an hour before he had to start towards the dungeons, and he intended to make good use of it.
His own breath was loud in his ears as he stood before the wall of some empty room they'd found. He panted for a brief moment before Luna did something wonderful with her hands and he arched back, closing his eyes and focusing on the sensation of touch.
The stone wall was rough beneath his clenching hands. The girl pressed against his back was soft and warm. Her breath and hair danced across his neck and shoulders and ears with maddening softness.
She worked her small hands against his shaft, and he reveled in the contrast between the cold air of the castle and the warmth of the thin, pumping fingers. He settled further onto the wall with a groan, resting his forehead against he cool stone and letting the quiet girl snuggle deeper into his back.
“You really are overcome aren’t you?” She murmured in his ear, and her breath did strange things to his breathing. He could feel the hard points of her nipples pressing through the back of his shirt to drag gently along his back. He moaned something that might have been a response or might have been meaningless. All that really mattered was her body against his, her lips and hair on his neck and shoulders, her hands squeezing and shifting.
Harry’s eyes opened and the wall blurred before him as he felt his whole body tense before sinking to his knees. The air felt cold on his sweat soaked back as Luna sat beside him, he head resting on his shoulder, and her hands drifting over his chest and shoulders. “Thanks.” Ha managed, still hazy from her touch. He could feel himself start to twitch again as her hands drifted lower, and he gently took hold of her wrist to stop her.
“Sorry Luna,” he said, “I’ve got to go.”
Harry caught her disappointment and sighed, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “Er…after this detention, I could…” He trailed off, but she seemed to understand.
“Alright, you can find the room I sleep in, right?” she asked.
“Good, I’ll wait for you then.”
She smiled, and Harry returned it. The climbed to their feet and straightened up. Harry had just finished a cleaning charm to deal with the sweat when she leaned in close and gave him a gentle peck before vanishing out the door. He followed, but when he looked into the hall, she was gone.
“Damn,” he muttered as he turned towards the dungeons, “why does she have to be so bloody confusing!”
Across the hall, Cho Chang sobbed quietly behind the doors of another empty room.
Snape glanced at the bit of parchment bound to the charms on his door when he heard the knock.
He grimaced. Whatever the Headmaster thought he was playing at, this was a fools errand. The art was not some toy to throw at an arrogant child. He doubted that Potter would last more than a few sessions before storming out in some sort of tantrum.
“Enter, Potter.” He snapped.
Odd he thought as the boy quietly slipped into the room and stood in front of his desk. Snape didn’t look directly at him, instead he kept track through the array of innocuous looking mirrors in his office. It was an old trick, and rarely failed to put students off balance.
The boy didn’t seem to notice though; he looked lost in his own head. Doubtless reliving some mundane daydream.
Snape deigned to look up from the papers on his desk.
“Potter.” He said; voice perfectly even. The boy started, and Snape allowed himself a smirk. It was good to annoy this child, petty as it was.
“Pay attention Potter, the Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumancy, and I will not have you’re tendency to drift off sully my art.”
That got the boy’s attention, most of it anyway. Snape scowled, safe enough when the boy rarely let himself believe Snape could do anything else. It was, he supposed, as close as Potter could manage to real focus.
“Bring a chair directly in front of me and sit down.”
He watched as the boy pulled a plain wooden chair over and sat in front of him.
“Good. Now, Occlumancy is the art of defending your mind. Look at my eyes.”
The second the boy met his eyes, full of defiance and pride, Snape forced the connection. He remained perfectly aware of the world around him, but distantly. Instead, a rush of sensation and things that weren’t quite words or images or smells surrounded him.
He idly let one of his own thoughts escape into the seething mess.
Now, what is it you’ve been dreaming of in my class?
The tide of thought shifted, rushing to think of the one thing Potter least wanted him to see, for a moment, he caught hints of blond hair, a portion of a scent, and the warmth of soft hands.
And then, there was anger.
At first, Harry wasn’t sure what was going on. He’d looked into Snape’s eyes, seen the glint in them. And then felt…something. There weren’t words for it, it was a feeling unlike anything else, unmistakable and unpleasant.
There was something in his head.
He could feel his fingers digging into his scalp and wondered when they’d gotten there. All he felt was the presence in his head, and the need, the all consuming need, to get it out.
And then the thought dropped into his mind. The voice, and he knew, in some deep, primal part of himself that it wasn’t a voice, but that was as close as he could describe it, was sickening, it felt, gleeful.
Now, what is it you’ve been dreaming of in my class?
He almost thought of her, he remembered her hair, and the way her sweat smelled when she writhed against him, and how her hands felt on his skin.
And then he clamped down.
He was not going to give Snape the satisfaction of success.
He forced himself to think of something else, anything else. He dragged pointless memories into his head, the taste of food, the feel of a hipogryph’s feathers, and the rush of air in his face.
He almost laughed until he realized that the mirth he felt wasn’t his. It drifted into his head just like the first question had, and he knew it wasn’t enough. He tied to force his eyes away, but he found himself frozen in place, eyes locked on Snape’s.
He tried to grab the sense of wrongness in his head and fling it into the darkest corner he could. He shoved it down among memories of screams and pain.
The trickle of mirth stopped, but now Harry was angry, he threw anything he could think of at Snape, helplessness, fear, loathing.
And then, his mind was clear, and Snape sat before him.
And here's chapter one. I invite any comments you might have.