It was Easter break at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and all the students were allowed to go home for the short two week holiday. Some, however, chose to remain at the school, whether it was for family reasons or their own.
Neville Longbottom, with special permission from Professor Sprout, had access to the Herbology greenhouses for the two weeks to study for his O.W.L's. He stood there next to the red-haired Scott, Eleanor McLeod also known as the loudest Gryffindor yet. She, along with fellow Griffindor Leonidas, were the first real friends he had made. They always stood by his side through thick and thin, day and night.
"It's easy, there's really nothing complicated about it," Neville started, standing opposite the Scott with sleeves were pulled up high allowing him to see her numerous scars and scratches. She was brilliant in Care of Magical Creatures even being offered an apprenticeship by the groundskeeper, but that's where her problem was
.
"Stop! You have to be gentle," he admonished, earning an "I am bein' gentle!" in return. "If it was a hundred-stone unicorn, then yeah," Neville said. Looking at her, he could see she was frustrated. Herbology was her worst subject by far. She could catch a salamander without getting burned, calm a raging hippogriff and some say even tame a three-headed dog with nothing but a bagpipe, but when it came to plants she lacked the patience and gentle touch needed to stimulate their growth.
"I cannae' do this Neville, sure, I might pass tha theory wit' a wee bit o readin', but this?" Eleanor motioned to the uprooted plants, two of which were dying and three would need long gruelling hours of care to recover. She sighed and started banging her head on the table; they had been out in the greenhouses all day practising for the upcoming exams. "You'll get it right, just...think of the plants as babies," Neville tried again showing her how to uproot and re-pot a mandrake. "Neville. I took ma wee babie brothe' tae play Quidditch an' 'e was tha bludgeon. We dinnae git ter hit 'im though," Eleanor mumbled, raising her head once the mandrake had stopped screaming.
"Well, umm, t-think of them as Hamish when he was small," Neville tried again, starting to understand why Professor Sprout had banned her from the greenhouse in the first place. Eleanor raised an eyebrow, but grasped the mandrake and yanked it out of the dirt making even Neville flinch at the 'gentle tug'. The mandrake screeched and shrieked in Eleanor's grasp, she plopped it in a nearby pot, filling it up with soil. "How was tha?" she asked him hopefully.
"Better, but you held it a little too long, young sprouts aren't as tolerant to fresh air as the bigger ones," Neville said before gripping his head. The mandrake had screamed louder than usual and he was feeling a little light headed. "Oi, Neville, ye awright?" Eleanor asked, jumping up and rushing over to grab the stumbling boy. "Sit doon," she said with concern as she half dragged him to one of the big overturned pots. "It's all right, I-I'm fine" Neville tried to assure her, reaching out to grab a shelf for support...
Crash!
Once Eleanor had Neville seated, she started picking up the shattered glass that Neville managed to knock from the shelf. "Whas that...whas that a quick growth potion?" she asked looking up at him once the musky earth smell hit her nose, but Neville didn't answer. "Great, hope we didna get tha on anything," she continued as she scooped up the pieces of the large bottle.
"Awright thar Neville?"
"..."
"Neville, ye awright?"
"Newt?"
Neville didn't answer; he just sat there staring out in front of him making Eleanor worry. She crouched down in front of him, placing a hand on his head.
Creak!
"Wha was tha?" Eleanor asked glancing behind her, but saw nothing.
"...they tell me things..." he said quietly.
"Wha? Who Neville?"
Crash!
Neville sat back a little as he watched the girl's head turn to see what made that noise before her multicoloured eyes gazed at him with concern. "They tell me things, lots of things," he said once again in a mere whisper. "Who Neville?" she asked him. He glanced behind her, "...the plants..." his voice remained a whisper as a great vine silently crept over the table.
"I think tha mandrake scrambled ye up a wee bit,"
"...I know what you do...out in the forest...when no one's around..."
"Neville, what ar' ye on abo-" Elle started, but before she could utter another syllable, thick, twisted vines wrapped around the lower part of her face. It yanked her up, making her sputter and kick around, her hands clawing at the plant.
Neville sat back, watching as more of the creeper's appendages reached out, grabbing her kicking legs, but the Scott fought on, determined to get loose. During the struggle the plant had managed to get the bunny sweater off of her and held her arms to her back and her legs apart.
"It'll only hurt you if you keep fighting...it's part Devil Snare," Neville informed, finally meeting her gaze. "I-I'm sorry, Elle," his gaze quivered a bit, but he watched the emotions swimming in her eyes. There was fear, confusion and he could have sworn he saw a flicker of outrage as the plant held her suspended in the air. "It's just...I really fancy you, ever since third year...then I saw you down by the lake with Seamus when he-" he trailed off, his hands balling into fists as she started squirming again, making more vines creep out to restrain her. Eleanor breathed hard through her nose. Every time she moved, the plant would constrict more or one of the limbs hovering close by would reach out and grab her. To top it all off, Neville just sat there watching, as calm as creek, talking about how this plant was his own creation and how it 'spoke' to him, telling him things.
Finally, he got up, walking closer to gaze upon the flaming red-head, "It's all right, Elle, I won't hurt you," he said reaching up to caress what was exposed of her cheek, moving some of her mane out of her face. Oh how he loved it! To the eye it was rough and wild, but to the touch, her hair was softer than a kitten's fur.
Neville's hand dropped to her collarbone, his touch remained feather like, never breaking eye contact. "...Your eyes...they were always what I fancied most," he smiled as his gaze dropped to her blouse. Slowly, shyly, he unbuttoned it, pushing it to the side to expose her abdomen more fully, revealing her plain white bra. It was to be expected, Elle wasn't one for fancy lace. He cupped her breast lightly, ghosting his thumb over the mound a few times. Slowly, he started kneading her breast, his other hand trailing lightly up to the other mound. Sighing, he let her go, wrapping his arms around her hanging form he pulled her into a hug, nuzzling his face between her covered breasts. "You make me so happy Elle, even if you destroy half my plants. I could stay like this forever," he said smiling softly while his hands unhooked her bra. Neville straightened back up as the plant made short work of the garment.
Eleanor started struggling again, she felt vulnerable under his gaze. The humid temperature clashed with the coldness of the vines, making her nipples harden. She couldn't place the look on Neville's face as he stared at her exposed chest, but it was unsettling. He ran his hand lightly from her stomach up, between the valley of her mounds until he lightly cupped her again.
"...it's so soft..." he trailed off, kneading her breast; the skin felt nothing like that of her hand and arms, which was rough and callous. Neville brought his face down, flicking his tongue over the pink bud before taking it gently between his teeth. His lips slipped over her as he suckled the defenceless teat, 'like a wee babie,' he imagined her saying as his other hand found its twin, kneading and pinching her. Once he had his fill, he switched breasts, bestowing as much love and attention to it as he had to its twin. He pulled away with a POP sound, looking up to be met with a glare. Wait, didn't she like it? He overheard Dean talking about it once, how girls liked being suckled like this, but her reaction wasn't what Dean had described. Not wanting to lose his sudden burst of courage, he diverted his gaze, spotting the plaid pattern of her skirt. Recomposing himself he leaned back a little, studying the way her skirt was pulled up, the vines holding her legs apart, "It's beautiful."
His hand reached out, resting on her thigh. "Is it true...about how Scotts don't wear knickers under their skirts?" he said half amused, running his hand up and down her thigh, pushing her skirt up more, lifting her plaid skirt further and further up. "So...it is true..." he said in admiration as he gazed upon her exposed womanhood that had the slightest glint of moisture. The sight made his heart leap; she was getting aroused by his actions! Leaning down, Neville placing a soft kiss on her collar bone, his hands caressing her upper thighs as he trailed kisses down her chest. He made sure to kiss each of her breasts while on his way down, stopping as the smell of her heat invaded his senses. "Y-you like this, don't you?" he asked with a blush dusting across his cheeks. He didn't wait for an answer though as he gingerly kissed her lower lips, slightly parting her labia with his fingers and gliding her tongue experimentally over her clit.
Eleanor stated thrashing against her restraints, trying to get away from Neville, but to no avail. One particularly hard pelvic thrust hit the mark, catching Neville by surprise and making him step back holding his now-bloody nose. "Why did you do that?! I wanted you to like it! I was being gentle!" Neville roared, throwing something off the shelf with a loud crash out of frustration. "That's alright. I don't have to be nice," he said, more to himself than her, in an attempt to calm himself down while running his hands through his short dark hair. He sat back down on the overturned pot, meeting eyes with her once more; hers were full of confusion and fear, where his was dark with something unthinkable as he dabbed his nose with the sleeve of his sweater.
Without warning, the creeper plant raised Eleanor high into the air, its appendages wrapped around her breasts, squeezing hard, contracting and pulling at her nipples. The vines around her legs reached up, throwing her skirt out of the way as it roughly rubbed against her. She was trying hard to fight, but stopped as pain shot through her bum as a loud SLAP echoed through the greenhouse.
Her defiance angered the creeper, she refused his master and was fighting it, she had to be punished. The creeper seemed delighted when she stopped squirming and was leaking moisture from her eyes. It lifted her knees up to her shoulders, exposing her fully to its master. Neville watched on in lust as his plant kneaded her breast roughly, but his mouth went dry and his trousers became much too tight when the creeper parted her lower lips.
Eleanor was crying, her rear ached and her chest hurt from the constant squeezing. She didn't like being suspended with her bum in the air and her secret place open for all to see. There was a slooshing sound close by, but she didn't want to look, too afraid of what it might have been. To her horror, a long slimy thing place itself against her stomach, cracking an eye open she saw it was indeed another vine, but it was thicker than the other and dripping some sort of yellow slime. She let out a scream as the vines covering her mouth retreated, but it was a mistake as one of the appendages dove into her open mouth, rocking itself in and out fast and hard.
Neville sat back, stroking himself slightly through his trousers as her watched his creation plunge into her mouth. He recognized the plant's erected stamen against her stomach, yellowing her pale skin with its liquid pollen and a smile crepet upon his face as the thick stamen started rubbing against her, slipping between legs.
With long, powerful strokes, it started petting her, touching every part of her most private and reserved area. He watched her body convulse, groaning when he saw the milky white substance spreading over the creeper's stamen, hearing her muffled mewling as she climaxed. Her face was red, her tears were hot against her cheeks and her jaw hurt as the vine forced itself down her throat. Her eyes snapped open, feeling a poking and prodding against her opening. She shrieked and started thrashing when the glossy wet stamen entered her, she was still a virgin and the trunk like vine was forcing its way into her, stretching her walls to accommodate it.
Once the creeper's stamen was inside the new source of wetness, it opened up.
That was when the female started fighting again. Becoming angry, it squeezed her body in warning as it released its finger like anthers inside her. Each anther glided and sucked itself onto the wall of the moist cavern, sucking up moisture and pulsating erratically as each individual anther released small spurts of liquid pollen.
Neville sprang up, he didn't want to watch any more, he wanted, needed, more. He wanted to make Elle scream for him and only him. He stepped up, patting the creeper's stamen, which pulled out with a loud schloosh, slamming against the ground, a trail of fluids following in strings on the anthers. Slowly Neville sheathed himself deep inside of her, the liquid pollen had lubricated her all the way and it felt so good. Her walls were still so tight, squeezing him and sucking him deep into her body.
"Oh Merlin! Elle!" Neville moaned dropping his head against her chest, moving in and out of her at a steady pace. His arms twined around her hips and his hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her onto him each time he trusted. "Ah! Elle, you're sucking me in...every time I...pull out!" he groaned sucking one of her bouncing breasts into his mouth. The creeper's stamen lifted itself up, looking for a new place to disperse it's pollen in. Another muffled screech rattled the greenhouse as the dripping stamen forced its way into Eleanor's rear. Neville gasped and groaned, feeling the stamen through inside her. The sheer size of it squeezed him tightly against her walls, but as it opened and started pulsing erratically against her insides, Neville lost it; thrusting into her as fast as he could as his end approached. Crying out to her, he came over and over as he coated her insides. She seemed to be calling back, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't pull himself out of her tightening walls.
"Neville! Neville! NEVILLE!"
Neville jerked upright in his bed sweating profusely as Leo stood over him, shaking him. The other boys with whom he shared a room with were all wide awake and staring at him. "Bloody hell mate," Ron said from right next to him, "I didn't think of you as that kind of person!" Neville was beet red, was it all a dream? "D-did I...talk? I mean...did you hear me?" he asked nervously, his heart pounded in his chest as the sweat ran rivers down his face. "Blimey, I bet the whole school heard you! Moaning and screamin' in yer sleep!" Seamus said from the adjacent bed.
Neville looked down at his hands; he wanted to die right there as the boys poked fun at him. "Alright, that's enough. Leave Neville alone," his head shot up as Leo eyed Seamus, "We all have dreams like that, especially you Seamus!"
"Rubbish! I ne'er squealed like Neville!" Seamus defended looking at the mortified boy.
"Oh, yeah Seamus, because none of us can remember..."
"The Padme incident," Harry finished for Leo, the two grinning victoriously at one another as Seamus went quiet. The room quieted down again after Harry agreed with Leo. Ron muttered something about it being almost every guy's dream as they all tried to go to sleep. Neville stared up at the roof of his bed, his pants were twisted and bundled together and his crotch was wet, wondering what Elle would say if she ever found out...