Harry Potter and the Return of Dumbledore's Army

Neville again skidded out of the fireplace, and the conversation stopped while Ron helped him to his feet. Glancing around, he saw that Lavender, Parvati, Padma, Ginny and Harry were all seated around the table with a meal big enough for twenty in front of them, despite the fact they’d just eaten. Neville seated himself beside Ron with a wince. “I’m going to have to do that every night, aren’t I?” he asked with resignation.

“And every morning leaving here,” Harry confirmed with sympathy.

Neville groaned. “Floo to Portkey every morning, and Portkey to Floo every night. Ron, can you teach me that Cleaning Charm for the soot?”

“Sure, Neville,” Ron said, slapping him on the back.

Harry and Ron returned to filling in the four girls on what they didn’t know, although Ginny had been getting regular updates from Ron. Neville helped himself to some spare parchment on the table and wrote a quick letter to his gran, explaining about the job and that he had a place to live. He listened to the conversation as well, picking up a bit of information he had missed when Harry had done the same for him.

Finally Harry wound down and there was a moment of contemplative silence. “Wow, Harry,” Padma muttered eventually, “I can’t believe this. You-” She swallowed. “After everything you’ve already gone through, to start something as big as this…I could never have done something so brave.”

Harry reddened. “You are, by helping,” he insisted. “I’m just organizing, but everyone who’s in the Army is as brave as anyone I’ve ever known.” He held up his hands to stop the protests. “Don’t tell me you’re not brave, I don’t want to hear it. You’re just scared; that doesn’t mean you’re not brave. Courage isn’t doing what’s right without fear; it’s doing what’s right despite your fear.”

“But, well…I mean, it’s not like we’re out there fighting Death Eaters,” Parvati mumbled.

“Give it time,” Ginny said with resignation. “We will be.”

Before anyone could respond to that, the fireplace flared and Hermione came flying out. Ron helped her up and she glanced around. “Everything all right?”

“Sure,” Harry said, “We’re just filling in our newest members.”

Hermione smiled. “Do you need me for anything? I need to do a little more research on one of the potions you asked me for.”

“No, go ahead,” Harry told her, and with a quick smile at Ron and a nod to everyone Hermione headed down the stairs to the basement. “Well, I think maybe you girls could get settled in now,” Harry suggested. “Unless you want the tour right now?”

“No,” Lavender said tiredly. “It’s been a long enough day as it is.”

Parvati and Padma agreed, and Harry nodded. “Right. Are you sure you only need one room? We’ve got more available…”

“We’ve shared before, Harry, we’ll be fine,” Parvati insisted. “We can always enlarge the bed if we have to, don’t worry.”

Harry shrugged. “Well let me know if you change your mind, we’ll find room. If you get hungry help yourselves, the kitchen’s always full, or ask Dobby or Winky for something. Neville, would you mind showing them to their room? It’s right next to yours, on the left.”

“Sure,” Neville agreed. While he waited for the girls to collect themselves, Harry grabbed Ron and Ginny and took them upstairs to the ‘conference room’ for a private meeting. Neville and the girls followed; they paused at the landing to watch, and they all gaped as the door vanished.

Neville led the three girls up to the third floor. Dobby or Winky had brought the girls’ luggage (which looked excessive to Neville) to the room ahead of them. As Neville had, the girls walked into their lavish room with expressions of awe. “Wow,” Parvati said, her eyes shining. “This is all Harry’s? I knew he was a catch!” She looked embarrassed when she remembered Neville was still there.

“Well, I don’t think it would be a good idea to tell him that,” Padma pointed out with a sardonic look. “Unless you want Ginny to turn your thumbs backward. Without magic.”

Parvati looked pleadingly at Neville. “You won’t tell them I said that, will you?”

“Of course not,” Neville assured her. He glanced at the clock, which read twenty to seven. “I have to go, I have to meet Hermione, Cho and Pansy to talk about plants.”

Lavender frowned at Hermione’s name, and surprisingly, Padma did at Cho’s; Parvati threw her arms around Neville’s neck and kissed his cheek, making him blush. “Thank you, Neville! Ooh, I still can’t believe Harry let Pansy Parkinson into the Army!”

“She went through the Veritaserum too,” Neville reminded her. “And she’s good at potions; that’s why I need to talk to her, to decide what ingredients I need to grow.”

“Really, Neville, don’t you ever think about anything besides plants?” Lavender asked amusedly. “I know you’re good at them, but…I’m sure there’re other things you’re good at too. Aren’t you interested in anything else?”

“Of course I am,” Neville replied, thinking of Susan pulling him closer, of her strong grip on his shoulders, of her thigh slapping against his hip… “Er, sorry, got to go,” he repeated, blushing, and fled before any of the girls noticed the beginnings of a bulge in his (fortunately loose) robes.

*****

When Neville reached the kitchen, Cho was sitting at the table, reading through a parchment. She looked up and smiled tentatively. “Hello, Neville. Welcome to the Army.”

“Thanks,” Neville answered, sitting opposite her. He didn’t know Cho very well, except from the D.A. meetings of his Fifth year at Hogwarts, and her abortive ‘relationship’ with Harry. “Um, did Harry talk to you about…?”

Cho nodded, her smile strengthening. “He did, and I’m so glad to have someone to work with. The idea that I might be the only Healer-trained person in the Army…” she shivered. “I don’t know if I could handle that pressure.”

“I know what you mean,” Neville agreed. “In fact, I was hoping you’d be willing to follow some of what I do with the plants, just in case…in case I’m not around to do the work for some reason.”

Cho pursed her lips. “That’s probably a good idea, except I’m not very good at Herbology. You might want to ask Harry to find someone who’s better at it to work with you.”

They chatted a bit longer, working out times during the week they could meet that worked around their jobs, and made a preliminary list of plants that might be useful. Just as their conversation was drifting into non-DA topics, the fireplace flared up, and Pansy came out.

She’d somehow managed to get through the Floo and back on her feet without collecting any ash or dust. Her shoulder-length honey-blond hair was perfectly coifed, and her robes looked more expensive than Neville’s entire wardrobe. She glanced around the kitchen with resignation and her eyes barely flickered over Cho before settling on Neville. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her scrutiny…he was, as she certainly knew, as pureblooded as Pansy. Her gaze wasn’t angry or disdainful…just contemplative. “Well,” she said finally, and Neville was surprised to hear both weariness and a completely lack of animosity in her voice, “finally we have someone to provide us with fresh ingredients for our work?”

“Er, that’s the idea,” Neville confirmed nervously. “Hello, Pansy.”

“Longbottom.” Pansy nodded at Cho, and without another word swept down the stairs to the basement.

Neville glanced at Cho, who was frowning after Pansy. “Was that normal for her?”

“Actually, no,” Cho replied, sounding a bit confused. “The few times I’ve run into her before, she’s been nastier.” She sighed, and stood up. “I suppose we shouldn’t leave poor Hermione to deal with Pansy alone.”

“Don’t they get on all right?” Neville asked as he followed Cho to the stairs. “Harry said they’ve been working together for a bit now.”

“A few weeks, I think,” Cho confirmed. “And the best I can say is that they haven’t killed each other yet.”

Neville supposed that made sense, seeing as Pansy was a pureblood who regarded birth and wizarding heritage so highly; since he was pureblooded, she’d be civil to him, but Hermione was muggle-born; really, if it wasn’t for the DA the two would probably never associate with each other.

Neville was impressed with the setup in the basement. In fact it reminded him eerily of the dungeon Potions classroom at Hogwarts; the dozen or so cauldrons were even set up in two rows in the center of the room, with tables in between for mixing. The walls were lined with shelves containing countless books, and a number of ingredients in glass jars, although even Neville, who’d never been much good at potions, could tell the supplies were scant.

Hermione and Pansy were both looking at some notes across one of the tables from each other. Hermione glanced up and smiled weakly at Neville. “Hello, Neville,” she said, causing Pansy to look up as well. “Cho,” Hermione added a bit formally.

Cho walked over and placed her bag on the table. She pulled out some parchment and a quill. “Well,” she said briskly, “shall we get started?”

The discussion was rapid and focused. Neville didn’t recognize half of the potions the girls spoke of, although he was relieved to find he knew every plant they needed. He took notes on what he’d need to grow, the list getting startlingly long in very short order. “We might want to try Lady Hope in the Glamour potion,” Hermione said at one point. “It might ease out the flickering.”

“Hmm.” Pansy studied a piece of parchment that contained her own handwriting and Hermione’s, then nodded. “It’s worth a try, I suppose.”

Neville wrote down Lady Hope on his list, one ear on the conversation; but his head snapped up at a comment from Cho. “What did you say?”

Cho looked confused. “Er…I said that Last Rites would be necessary if we wanted to have a Revitalizing Draught,” she repeated.

“But we’d never get our hands on Last Rites!” Neville gasped. “It never even gets outside the Ministry until it’s been brewed into a potion!”

“I wasn’t actually suggesting we try,” Cho said ironically.

“Harry could get it,” Hermione said confidently. “He can get anything.”

“Don’t think you can handle Last Rites, Longbottom?” Pansy asked, not quite sneering.

“Oh, I could handle it, no problem,” Neville said offhandedly. “I helped Professor Sprout with a batch last year. But she was only growing it at the request of the Ministry since they were short; I wasn’t even supposed to be near it, no one under seventeen is allowed to grow it.”

There was silence for a full thirty seconds. “N-Neville,” Cho stammered eventually, “You’ve actually handled a living Last Rites plant? You’ve t-touched it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Neville said, trying to be dismissive about it. “Professor Sprout thought it would be good experience…”

“Bloody hell, Longbottom, I was joking,” Pansy muttered, sounding shocked. “Potter was right about you.” Hermione raised her eyebrows at Pansy, who sighed. “Oh, very well, Harry was right about you…Neville,” she snapped, rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Pott- Harry said you were the best we could hope for to start our greenhouse,” Pansy said. “And now I think he was actually right. You do realize you’re one of probably only a dozen or so people in the entire United Kingdom to have handled Last Rites and lived to talk about it?”

Neville’s ears reddened. “It’s just another plant. If you’re careful, it’s no more dangerous than…than Venomous Tentacula, say.”

“But- but if what I’ve read is true, any part of it could kill you,” Hermione said faintly. “The sap, the leaves, the noise it makes, even the odor…”

“The protective gear is really thorough,” Neville said, now blushing full out. “Actually, I just realized…” he made a few quick notes on his list. “If I’m going to be growing Last Rites and other dangerous plants, I’m going to have to have a separate room, or a partition or something, or they’ll harm the other plants.”

“So you- you’re okay with growing Last Rites?” Cho asked again, as though she couldn’t believe it.

“Well, yeah, of course. Anything I can do to help. Although maybe I’ll put up some warning signs. Just in case.”

The look the three girls were giving him was unquestionably admiration mixed with a bit of awe. It wasn’t something Neville was used to, and he found it rather uncomfortable. “So… so what else do we need?”

They finished about fifteen minutes later. Cho sighed as she packed up her things. “It’s time for bed. I’ve got another fourteen-hour shift tomorrow.”
Hermione cringed in sympathy. “Neville, can you give the list to Harry- er, Neville?”

Neville followed her gaze and reddened. “I know it’s messy, I was writing fast,” he murmured. “I’ll write it out neater before I give it to Harry.”

“Oh good, thank you,” Hermione replied, smiling. “Well, I suppose we’d better check all the potions before bed, Pansy.”

“I’ll do it,” Pansy answered, not looking up from her parchment.

“What?” Hermione looked stunned. “Are- are you sure? I don’t mind helping…”

Pansy looked up and scowled. “Grang- Hermione, the alternative to working here is going home and dealing with my over-emotional, not exactly all-of-the-Light mother. This will be a joy compared to that. Besides,” she said with an amused smirk, “I’ll have L- Neville for company, won’t I?”

“Er, I guess so,” Neville answered quietly, pulling out a clean piece of parchment.

“Well…all right,” Hermione said, trying to hide a yawn. “I suppose I’ll follow Cho’s example then. Goodnight.”

Hermione and Cho headed to the stairs together. They began talking in low murmurs, and as they reached the foot of the stairs Neville thought he heard Hermione say “…Rites…” Cho looked back over her shoulder at Neville with a shocked expression; Neville brought his eyes back to his list quickly.

Neville copied over the list, separating out the various species of plant to make it easier for Harry, or Mundungus, or whoever, to identify what was needed. When he finished, he added another section for materials he would need; soil, pots, clippers, sticks and ties for support, gloves, facemasks, weedkiller (not that he’d ever use it – it was just to intimidate the more aggressive plants), etc. He felt very odd asking for so much, but Harry didn’t seem to think it was a problem, so Neville added everything he could think of.

The sounds of Pansy moving around checking the various potions that were simmering put Neville in mind of his conversation with Harry; he pulled out a separate sheet of parchment and began writing a short list of the more sensual plants that he thought might be…appreciated by the Army’s members. As he sat thinking of what else to put, a voice right over his shoulder said “I’d add Lady’s Embrace, if I were you.”

Neville started, and spun to find Pansy regarding him with an amused expression. “I, uh…”

“Potter asked for those, did he?”

“I suggested it to him,” Neville said, another blush spreading over his cheeks. “I thought it might…help with tension.” Pansy’s face split into a full-on grin. “I thought the special properties of Lady’s embrace were lost,” he said, trying to distract her.

“Sometimes being a pureblood has even more spectacular advantages than usual,” Pansy said with a smirk. “My great-aunt rediscovered the secret to unlocking Lady’s Embrace in an old ancestor’s journal. It’s quite a simple incantation, and the results are-” she leered- “quite astonishing. If you grow some Lady’s Embrace, I might be convinced to teach you the incantation…for the good of the cause, of course.”

“R-really? Well, thanks, I’ll be sure to add that…”

Neville didn’t get any further as Pansy shoved him back against the table and kissed him ferociously. Her body draped against his felt slender and strong through their robes, and Pansy’s breasts pressed firmly into Neville’s chest caused his cock to twitch involuntarily. Without giving Neville the chance to think, Pansy pulled up his robes and shoved her hand down Neville’s trousers, slipping her slim fingers over his cock and making his whimper.

Dropping to her knees, Pansy quickly undid Neville’s belt and freed him from his trousers and boxers. Gripping him firmly, she raised her other hand to cup Neville’s balls and squeezed slightly, causing stars to flash in front of his eyes. “Pansy-!”

“Bloody hell, Longbottom, how did you keep this hidden under your robes?” Pansy asked, sizing up Neville with an appreciative quirk of her eyebrow.

Any response Neville might have made was lost in a gurgling moan as Pansy, without preamble, leaned forward and took Neville’s entire length in her mouth. Neville felt her nose touch his stomach, and a tightness told him her throat was clenching his tip. Her tongue teased the underside of his shaft as she slowly pulled back, and her teeth grazed against the ridge of the tip before she plunged forward, taking him all the way in again.

Pansy teased him like that for what seemed like forever, doing things he was sure no girl actually knew how to do outside of his dreams. Finally when he was a helpless wreck she pulled away, and shoved him back onto the table. Neville looked up to see she’d shed most of her clothes, and in just a scant second more she stripped off the rest. Climbing up on the table, she straddled Neville with a predatory smirk.

Thinking he knew what was expected of him – and truthfully, not thinking much else – Neville began to guide Pansy over his cock, but she slapped his hands away. “Don’t be stupid,” she said with a snarl. She produced her wand, twisted around so it was pointing at her bum and growled out “Dermilubricus.” Neville didn’t recognize the Charm, but he understood its purpose immediately when Pansy repositioned herself and lowered down to press the head of Neville’s cock against her anus. Neville let his head loll back as Pansy bore down, taking Neville’s shaft in without trouble, until the pucker of her anus was all the way to Neville’s base. Pansy let out a long breath. “Fuck, Longbottom,” she groaned, and then chuckled. “Long…bottom.” She rose up until just the head of Neville’s cock was still inside her. “How very-” she slammed down, burying him in her again- “appropriate,” she finished.

Pansy rode Neville roughly, pistoning down onto him so hard that spare beakers and flasks shook off the table and shattered on the floor. Neville clutched at the table’s edges and tried to hold off coming too quickly; being inside Pansy like this was so completely different from his previous experiences it was almost overwhelming. Pansy reached one of her hands around, and her fingers began flying rapidly across her clit, causing her groans to descend into incoherent howls. That proved to be the breaking point for Neville, who grasped Pansy’s hips and thrust up as hard as he could, coming inside her with a pulse he was sure would tear her apart – and then Pansy was coming, grinding down against Neville, not screaming but shrieking, almost like an animal in pain, the fingers of her free hand raking down Neville’s bare chest and leaving bloody trails behind.

When Neville regained enough breath that he wasn’t in danger of blacking out, he realized that Pansy had climbed off the table. Leaning up on his elbows, he was shocked to see Pansy already almost completely dressed again. “Er…” he started, and then couldn’t think of anything to say.

Pansy looked up at him and gave what looked like a genuine smile. “Thanks, Longbottom. If anyone asks I’ll be sure to tell them you’ve nothing to be ashamed of beneath your robes.”

“Uh…thanks. I think. I doubt anyone will ask, it’s not like they’d believe me if I told them…” Neville trailed off as he realized he was babbling. “P-Pansy, why…why did you…” He gulped. “And a-anally too, I, that’s so…”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Oh for Merlin’s sake, Longbottom, virginity still matters to some purebloods on the wedding night!”

Well, at least that made sense. “But-” Neville swallowed. “I mean, I’m hardly the only boy around, and some of the others are a lot more-” He stopped, unable to decide which word seemed right: attractive? Experienced? Appealing? “Why me?”

“Because you’re a pureblood,” Pansy said sharply, as if it should have been obvious. “Do you think I’d let my body be sullied by anything less? The only other purebloods around are Macmillan – and never has there been a bigger poof – Jordan, who’s ever so slightly insane, and the Weasleys. Those twins are worse than Jordan, which leaves Ron or Ginny, both of whom are-” she spat the word- “committed. What were you expecting? A proclamation of long-unrequited love?”

Neville gaped at Pansy for a moment before finding enough wits to mutter “Hardly.”

“Well then. Just enjoy being my number one choice when I feel the need for a shag.” Pansy gathered her cloak, and without a backward glance headed up the stairs.