Thank Heavens For Eusebius Spark

Thank Heavens For Eusebius Spark
Pt. 1 of 2

As requested for smuttyclause: humour, romance, first time, spanking, being watched.

Author's notes: Thanks to the Harry Potter Lexicon
http://www.hp-lexicon.org/index-2-text.html

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DISCLAIMER: The characters are JK Rowlings. The situations they're in are the author's.
Not meant to infringe on any legal holders of Harry Potter copyright.
* * * *

Neville Longbottom hated politics.

His grandmother thrived on reading the accounts of the Ministry's activities -- the Daily Prophet, the Quibbler, etc. -- written up by all the various news sources. She delighted in encapsulating the news and pronouncing her opinions at the breakfast and dinner table. For tea, she made him read the highlights as she ate savoury sandwiches, buttery scones and drank veritable gallons of tea.

He thought it would be enough to keep her happy. He thought he would not have to get involved.

So her strong suggestion to write a note to the Quibbler's editor to thank him for printing the truth about Voldemort's return (thereby helping the students including Neville to prepare to fight him) was disturbing to Neville on several levels. He had zero desire to become as politically involved as his grandmother was. It was bad enough having dealt with the fall out from the Ministry fiasco and having his grandmother telling anyone who would listen about how 'brave and resourceful' he was. She thought if enough people heard about what he had done that maybe it'd be true.

He did not particularly feel brave or resourceful. He felt they'd been lucky. Perhaps, he wondered now, she kept saying that in the hopes he'd gain the attention of someone at the Ministry and land a nice job. He did not really have to work, but he did intend to. Neville Longbottom did not have any desire to live forever with his grandmother!

Fortunately, her written suggestion to him arrived in the form of a post that he readily stuck into his herbology textbook and promptly forgot. If his gran asked about it, he could honestly say he'd lost her letter -- after all he was always losing things -- and she'd scold him and then ask if he was eating enough, as she always did. To gran's way of thinking, he needed to keep up his strength in order to fight off all evils. He might be forgetful, but he'd be strong and forgetful.

Yes, that was the best way to deal with it, he thought. Then he picked up his herbology book and stuffed it into his book bag along with his other books.

He did not see his grandmother's note slide out and flit through the air to land by the Ravenclaw table where a pair of long, pale fingers picked it up.

* * * *

He was in one of the greenhouses smashing squash-eating caterpillars in a bit of extracurricular work for Professor Sprout when Luna Lovegood startled him.

"You should watch out for stone-gurkles."

Spade having slipped and cut his palm, Neville winced and looked up to find two tranquil blue eyes watching him.

"Pardon?"

"Stone-gurkles. They can make your grip loosen and give you a funny all-over feeling."

"Oh." Neville considered this, and nodded. "Thanks. I will."

"Is your hand hurt? Stone-gurkle bites can cause tetchy stomach."

"No, it's fine. Just a scratch." He held up his hand for her to see and was surprised to find her squatting down to take it in hers and examine it.

"Doesn't look like a gurkle bite."

Neville's stomach felt as if it did a little flip inside. He shivered. Luna had this effect on him.

He liked her. She was kind and sometimes funny, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to become any better a friend to her. He didn't want to lose her friendship, either. Neville felt confused.

"Do you feel funny all-over?" She asked now.

"Eh? Oh. No. Just... can I have my hand back?"

Luna let him go and pulled her knapsack onto her thighs. She found what she was looking for and handed it to him.

Neville felt himself redden as he read, again, his grandmother's letter.

"You dropped it this morning, but you left so fast I didn't have time to give it back to you until now."

"Well... thank you."

He fervently hoped she would say nothing else. He did not want to write Luna's father at the Quibbler!

"My father already knows how your grandmother feels."

"He does?"

"Yes. Your grandmother wrote him already."

Neville felt his receding blush returning. "Oh."

"I've been helping in the office for pocket money since fourth year. I get to open some of the letters to the editor and even answer them. She was very nice."

Neville nodded, deciding to stand. He needed to clean his hands anyway.

"I told her the pleasure was all my father's."

He kept nodding as he headed for the green house watering trough, where he cleaned off the dirt and blood, then rinsed his spade. Somehow he knew Luna would follow him.

"Hermione really did Daddy a favour. Sales had been down. The interview really picked them up again."

Neville sighed, remembering. That time had been difficult for the Gryffindor boy's dorm. He had been grateful to the Quibbler for easing the pressure everyone seemed to have been feeling.

"Besides, if you write, my father will only ask you for an interview."

"W-what?"

"Well, he'd love to interview all the students at the ministry who fought the Death Eaters, but since I was one of them... that smacks of nepotism. So getting an interview with one of you instead would be just as good."

"I... I really don't want to be interviewed," he mumbled nervously.

"That's what I told Daddy," Luna agreed.

"Y-you did?"

"Well, why would you? You aren't a glory hound. And you're very shy."

Neville felt himself flush so hard he was sure his face was purple.

"See?" She smiled at him then, and turned for the door of the greenhouse. She paused at the lintel and looked back at the now-blotchy Neville.

"Be careful about those stone-gurkles."

All he could do was nod.

* * * *

Neville Longbottom liked his new wand.

He'd never felt anything like it when he laid his hand on the silk-smooth cherry wood for the first time. Power, raw and strong had surged into him. Ever since then he'd experienced spurts of confidence.

Like now, as he carefully levitated the pumpkins by Hagrid's hut and turned them so they got even amounts of sunlight, his touch was sure and light. This wand seemed to welcome his touch, his demands of it. It moved with him, not like a piece of wood he held, but more like it was part of his hand.

Neville also liked working with plants. They did not make great demands on him. They did not worry him. They listened if he told them his troubles. Of course, they could not answer, but sometimes that was best. Sometimes he just wanted to get things off his chest.

Like now, he was hoping Hagrid would not return so that when the invitation came to Professor Slughorn's weekly Slug Club gathering, he could honestly state he was too busy to attend. If Hagrid was there, he would tell Neville it was all right and that he should go and take care of the pumpkins some other time. It was a few days still until Hallowe'en, after all.

Slughorn's blatant social climbing and fraternizing with the students bothered Neville, but he could not put it into words. All he could do was find ways to avoid the man. He was profoundly glad he did not make it into his classes that year.

The sound of running feet was all the warning he had before a figure dashed from behind Hagrid's hut and ran face first into the enormous pumpkin he was levitating.

Pumpkin forgotten, he rushed to pick up the person who fell. To his surprise and concern, he realized it was Luna Lovegood.

She wore Muggle-style corduroy trousers, a woolen navy poncho with embroidered runes in grey, three copper bracelets on one arm, a bright red rubber band and a leather strap on the other, sturdy mud-covered Wellies on her feet and dangling precariously off her nose was a pair of now slightly-squashed Spectrespecs.

"Luna! Are you all right?"

She blinked up at him as he knelt by her, ignoring his own trousers as they pressed into the wet, muddy ground. To his dismay, a small trickle of blood dripped from her nose.

"Oh, dear," she murmured in a pained voice, touching a muddy hand to her swelling lip. "That's what I get for trying to avoid an attacking turflugle."

"Oh."

"Not their fault. Wrackspurts eat them and there is a whole cloud of Wrackspurts that hangs around Hagrid's hut. That's why I was trying to catch one here."

"A Wrackspurt?"

"No, a turflugle. Professor Snape told me that if I could manage to catch one, he would personally skin it and use it in a potion."

Neville nodded at this, privately feeling Snape was quite likely having Luna on, but he said nothing. Instead, he leaned over, lifted his wand, and gently tilted Luna's face.

She blinked at him from behind the ridiculous Spectrespecs and waited. He smiled slightly at her, and then gently touched the tip of his wand to her nose.

"Episkey."

Luna gasped, then giggled. She touched the end of her nose, wiping off the blood and looked adoringly up at Neville, unaware that the mud on her hand had left a smudge.

"Thank you, Neville. That was kind of you."

He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. "That's all right. It was my pumpkin that hurt your nose."

"But it was the turflugle that made me run into it."

"Luna..." He was not sure if he was exasperated, relieved or what exactly. All he knew was he wanted to her to be silent and for him to be closer.

She paused at his tone and expression. He looked both baffled and bemused. She understood this expression well.

"I think a Wrackspurt got you."

Neville nodded. Then he leaned in slowly and kissed her.

Luna didn't move, neither pulling away nor getting closer. This was... different.

She could not tell, though, whether he meant comfort or perhaps something else.

Neville pulled back from the gentle kiss to look shyly at her and she smiled.

"That was nice, too."

Now he smiled and nodded, a bit less shy. "Yeah. It was."

"Too bad it was just the Wrackspurt," she sighed a bit wistfully, before straightening her Spectrespecs and starting to get up, wiping uselessly at her muddy clothes with a dirty hand.

Neville frowned, put his wand back in its pocket and helped her. He kept his hand on her arm and made her look back at him. How to tell her?

She stared at him for a long moment, and then her head tilted.

"It wasn't just a Wrackspurt, was it?"

He shook his head. Her smile grew a bit dreamy, which was going some for Luna.

"Luna Longbottom sounds nice."

Neville froze.

"Of course, that's assuming we were to marry."

He did not comment, uncertain what to say. He'd only thought she looked quite endearing with a muddy nose and those silly spectacles running around hunting turflugles.

"I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Daddy said it's bad form for a reporter to do that."

"A-are you going to be a reporter then?" This seemed like safe ground.

"No. People don't like talking to me and a reporter needs to be able to talk to anyone," she said matter-of-factly. "Most likely I'll eventually edit and manage like Daddy."

Neville blinked. "Is that what you want to do?"

"Not really." She shrugged lightly and intoned, "We, none of us, have any choice in what we become."

"Who said that?"

"Blathgood Vindersplat. He was the inventor of the evanofiliasanguinus charm to help remove menstrual blood from women's underwear."

"Oh." For some reason, Neville felt a bit faint.

"People made fun of him constantly, but I haven't met any girls yet who don't think he shouldn't be bronzed and given an Order of Boadicea."

"Oh."

"I think those Wrackspurts got you again. Mayb--" she was stopped mid-sentence by his kissing her again, hard.

He put his hands on her, too, holding her upper arms as he kissed and kissed and kissed her. It was quite lovely really, he thought. She was so nice and quiet.

He pulled back this time, still holding onto her and she looked up at him owlishly through the sparkly spectacles.

"Better?"

"Loads." He pulled her to him and kissed her some more. Definitely better.

Luna just let him kiss her. It seemed the wisest thing to do. If it was Wrackspurts, he would stop soon and that would be rather sad since he really was quite a nice kisser. Not that she knew a good kisser from a bad kisser, never having been kissed before. However, she knew that she liked Neville kissing her very, very much.

If it was just Neville being a boy, then he might or might not stop, but that was okay with Luna, too. She never thought a boy would want to be a boy with her. Well, really they were always boys, unless they took Polyjuice or used a hermaphroditicus charm or some such, but even then they were still basically boys and--

"Luna," he whispered, still kissing her softly, at one corner of her mouth. She nodded. "I don't think it's Wrackspurts, but... what's the cure if it is?"

She considered this and said softly, "They don't like it when you think a lot. That's why they like going in when people aren't thinking."

"There must be loads of people," he mused, still kissing her. "There must be loads and loads of people running around all full of Wrackspurts."

"That's exactly what my father thinks. Good thing Wrackspurts don't give off dung," she said sincerely as he began to gently nibble on her lower lip. "Ow."

Neville pulled back at this, uncertain. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, silly. My lip is still sore from the pumpkin."

"Oh." He looked, or rather tried, to look at her lip, but somehow in the last few moments of excitement, the sun had set and the quarter moon was rising. The dimness hid the swollen lips, but he could still see her eyes behind the Spectrespecs. They glimmered and he could see tiny reflections of himself in the lenses. To his embarrassment, he grew almost instantly hard.

Usually he could deal with it. In class, he always wore his robes to hide any protrusions. Right now, there was no way he could hide it. He just hoped she wouldn't notice.

"Maybe we should go in now."

"Maybe."

"Are you hungry? Do you need to study? Or would you like to see if we could find somewhere to kiss some more?"

Neville thought he might just grow to appreciate Luna's refreshing honesty.

"That last one, I think. How about you?"

"I ate. I'm done with my homework. I know where Padma takes Justin when they want to snog."

Neville took her hand in his; put the other in his pocket, hopefully hiding his condition.

"Lead the way."

* * * *

Neville Longbottom liked kissing... a lot.

Fortunately, it seemed that Luna liked kissing a lot, too.

At least he hoped she did, because they had been kissing for what felt like an hour, but was really only a quarter of an hour.

She did not initiate further contact besides taking his hands in hers and he did not move closer lest he embarrass himself by rubbing his now achingly hard erection against her. He was not sure how he would leave here without taking care of matters. He wouldn't be able to walk if they stopped and he was pretty sure Luna was not ready for anything besides kissing.

Kissing was nice, though. It's just that it made him want to do other things.

His gran wouldn't mind, he knew. She had told him last year that he was almost a man and would understand if he started squiring (her words) young ladies around. She just gave him a book that explained everything and told him to be careful.

Thank you, gran!

"Neville."

He pulled back to look at Luna who smiled at him. She was still wearing those Spectrespecs.

"Is something wrong? You want to... to stop?" He couldn't help the wistfulness of his voice, but he also couldn't stop his body's desire to keep going, to do more than just kissing.

"No, silly. I just wondered if you needed to do something."

Neville frowned. "Like what?"

She shrugged a little and blushed. "You pitched a tent, Neville."

It was his turn to blush as he saw what she meant. His erection was blatantly obvious and worse - a small damp spot was at the top. He groaned, embarrassed and dismayed.

"Don't be embarrassed. You're a boy. This is a normal boy thing."

"Yeah, but..."

"Besides, I can help."

Without further preamble, she reached for his trouser placket.

Before she could get even one button undone, though, the deep velvet tones of Severus Snape cut through both of their thoughts.

"Well, well, well... I do hope you are helping Mr. Longbottom pick lint off his trousers, Miss Lovegood. Or else you are both in a great deal of trouble."

"No sir," Luna replied brightly, meeting Snape's gaze without hesitation. "I was just making sure a turflugle didn't bite him."

Neville gaped at Luna as she pulled her hands back from his rapidly wilting crotch and looked up at Snape, who sneered.

"Indeed."

"I was chased by one earlier, sir, by Hagrid's hut and Neville rescued me."

The black-eyed glare turned to him and he quailed. "I-i-it's t-t-true, Professor Snape. She... ran into my pumpkin and I helped her back up."

"Then he stopped my nosebleed." Luna added.

"Indeed."

"Then he kissed me."

Neville fought to keep from groaning.

"So, Professor, it's entirely possible the turflugle that got away climbed into Neville's pants. I was just about to check."

"I see. Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom. For... drawing potentially dangerous creatures into the castle."

"Yes, sir." Neville hung his head, inwardly bemoaning his bad luck, but profoundly grateful Snape hadn't come in a few minutes later.

"Miss Lovegood, twenty points from Ravenclaw for extremely ill-considered choices." She merely nodded, and he continued, "And fifteen points to Ravenclaw for the most unique excuse I've ever been given in regards to what you two were actually doing. Don't let me catch you in here again."

"No, sir."

"Thank you, sir."

"Get to your common rooms."

They both scurried out.

Before they parted at the bend down the hallway, Neville called her.

Luna turned back to him and he smiled. Whatever he'd intended to say left his mind and all he could do was stare at this baffling, blowsy, bewitching girl.

She smiled back and then, slipping off her Spectrespecs, she gave them to him.

"I..." He wasn't sure what to say, then finally admitted, "I can't believe you told Snape that story!"

"Ravenclaws think fast under pressure," she smiled. Then, kissing his cheek, she ran off in the direction of her house tower.


end pt. 1/2
2B cont'd