Hogwarts: The Legacy

(c)2005 by Josh Cohen. May not be reprinted, except for personal use. The Potterverse was created by JK Rowling, and remains her property. I\'m just borrowing it for a little while.

***************************************************

FOURTEEN: DANCING AROUND

Warning: contains masturbation and breakfast cereal.

***

Since he had returned to Hogwarts in January, Jason had not had cause to look at the pocketwatch in the top drawer of his bedside table. Between Quidditch practices, helping Caroline get acclimated to Hogwarts, and keeping up with his assignments, he had little time to devote to the kind of pursuits in which the watch was intended to assist. In other words, it had been quite some time since he’d last wanked himself off.

Still, Jason hadn’t expected to wake up on Tuesday morning of spring holidays with an erection so sensitive that he was afraid to even leave his bed.

His bedside clock read half-six, and when he glanced around, he saw that none of his yearmates – at least, not the ones who’d left their curtains open – were awake yet. So, very quietly, he slid open the drawer and pulled out the watch, then pushed it shut and twitched closed the curtains of his bed before pulling off his pajama trousers. In the middle of the night, he had shucked the Ravenclaw Athletics t-shirt he’d worn to bed – he hated wearing shirts when he slept, but he also felt uncomfortable being half-dressed while he slept in a room with five other boys. So, whenever he slept with the curtains open – which was more often than not – he wore a t-shirt, and whenever he wore a t-shirt – again, more often than not – he ended up pulling it off in the middle of the night.

Professor Flitwick had taught the third years the Bubble-Head Charm a few weeks previously; Jason had mastered it first go, as had Christopher. Jason had a sneaking suspicion that his friend had a watch as well, but it wasn’t the kind of thing one discussed.

Jason cast the charm around his head, and then started turning the hands of the watch. There was nothing going on at 5:05 or 6:06, but at 7:07, he was quite surprised to see Lisa DeMarco, completely naked, reclining on her bed. He was pretty sure she was asleep, but her hand was idly teasing between her legs.

This was promising.

Jason cast another Bubble-Head charm around the watch and touched the two bubbles together.

The experience became far better with sound. Lisa was not asleep. She was quite awake, and she was muttering incoherent little syllables as she touched herself. Jason’s free hand stole down and wrapped itself around the length of his flesh. He started to stroke, and realized that he would come very, very soon.

Lisa’s fingers played her body like a harpist.

Jason stroked faster, the edge of his hand hitting his lower abdomen nearly hard enough to leave a bruise.

Lisa tweaked something between her legs and her back arched. A moan echoed through the bubble around Jason’s head.

Jason felt a surge coming up from his testicles. He dropped the watch and pulled his t-shirt over his erection, stroking it hard and fast.

His eyes caught the watch, caught Lisa still touching between her legs.

Jason turned his head and groaned into his pillow, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he felt the burst of his orgasm shoot out and hit the shirt with almost an audible splat, followed by another, and another, and another.

His eyes stayed on the watch, watching Lisa as she pleasured herself, until his own flesh stopped twitching and throbbing. He pulled his hand out, wiping the gooey issue on the shirt, then lifting it off his stomach. It was so heavy with his come that it had started to leak onto his stomach, and his face flushed hot as he snapped the watch shut and balled the shirt up.

As he was taking a shower, his face felt hot with shame. He’d done this for real when he was in America, after all, and wanking was a normal part of life. So why?

Jason didn’t know. And that bothered him even more.

Jason had chosen to do his penance for the morning’s activities – which in and of itself was strange, since, as a Jewish wizard, self-flagellation was most definitely frowned upon, and confession didn’t even exist – at breakfast, and so it was with extreme distaste that he chewed his way through a bowl of shredded wheat with milk, reading an article Professor Lupin had given them for homework. The assignment was to pick a type of vampire from the article – a piece in Dark Arts Quarterly – and do a three-foot essay on it, including how to defend against it, how to kill it, where it was found, and what its strengths and weaknesses were. Jason had already done his Potions homework and his Muggle Studies assignment – Professor Vector, thankfully, had not given them extra Arithmancy over the holidays – and was planning to at least make a start on this one. The last Saturday of holidays was a Hogsmeade weekend for anyone who’d stayed at school – about eighty percent of the students, Jason guessed – and he was planning to go with a clean slate.

But it was only quarter-past-seven, and during holidays, very few other students bothered to wake up before ten. Professor Sinistra was actually at the staff table, having dinner – she lived a rather back-to-front lifestyle, which only made sense, since Astronomy was held in the dead of night – and Jason could smell the shepherd’s pie she’d ordered special from the kitchens. It made the shredded wheat taste even more like crumpled parchment.

“Are you all right?”

Jason looked up from the copy of the article and saw Caroline sitting on the bench opposite him. “Sorry?” He swallowed hard; the shredded wheat congealed alarmingly quickly in one’s mouth.

“You look as though you’re eating straw.”

He smiled. “Close enough. Shredded wheat. According to the commercials on muggle television, it’s part of a complete breakfast.”

“I’ve never seen muggle television, although I know what it is. Is it?”

“Is it what?” Jason half-heartedly cracked another piece of wheat chunk with the edge of his spoon. The milk wasn’t absorbing at all.

Caroline gestured toward the bowl. “Is it part of a complete breakfast?”

“Maybe for a gerbil.” Jason gave up and pushed the bowl away.

“Then why are you eating it?”

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to tell her the truth. Instead, he snatched a banana from the nearest cornucopia and started peeling it. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“May I?” she asked.

“Be my guest. But it’s your funeral.” He pushed the bowl across the table, and Caroline picked a bit of the shredded wheat out of the bowl with her long fingers. Jason bit off the end of the banana with far more force than was necessary as he watched her nibble at the edge of what he would only call food if he was feeling charitable.

Caroline made a face. “Would you like me to remind you of this taste next time I see you eating this?”

“You mean, can you smack me if you catch me with a bowl of it again?” Caroline smiled, and Jason smiled back. “Go right ahead.”

Caroline ladled a smallish portion of scrambled eggs on her plate and complemented it with breakfast chips and a biscuit. She never ate very much; Grandfather had taught her to recognize exactly how much food she needed and stop eating before she became full.

“Why are you up so early?” she asked after adding a pinch of salt to the eggs. “Most of the students don’t wake until nearly afternoon.”

Jason shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep anymore. This article Lupin gave us is really pretty interesting.”

“I haven’t read it yet.” She sampled the eggs, then added a pinch of black pepper.

“If you need any help with anything,” Jason said, “I’ve already finished Potions and Muggle Studies.”

Caroline smiled. The eggs tasted correct now. “I’m all right, but thank you.”

Jason finished his banana and picked up the article, trying to figure out where he’d left off. It had been the section on succubi and incubi.

“Jason?”

He looked over the top of the pages. “Yes?”

But she just dropped her eyes back down to her plate. “Never mind,” she said.

“All right.”

Jason raised the article back up and continued reading – this Dr. Hamilton who had written the article had a very dry style; he’d thought maybe Professor Lupin could’ve assigned them something a little more interesting. Professor Lupin was always an interesting person to take classes from, but his selections of reading material left something to be desired.

Halfway through the section on succubi, he realized that Caroline was watching him.

“Do I have something on my shirt?” he asked, half-joking. Jason was quite obsessive about making sure his clothes stayed clean; Herbology was one of his least-favorite subjects because it meant playing around in the dirt.

Caroline shook her head. “No. You just happen to be in front of me, that’s all.”

He made a noncommittal noise and went back to his reading. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that Caroline was watching him.

Alison looked up to see that it was Caroline who had blocked her sunlight; she’d been taking advantage of the sixty-degree afternoon temperatures to sun herself by the lake. It was an idyllic scene; students were walking around the lake, or swimming in it, or sitting beside it. The day was truly beautiful; the sun was out, and only a few high, puffy clouds graced the cerulean sky.

“Have a seat,” Alison said, shifting position. Since it was the holidays, the teachers had chosen to overlook much of the dress code, and Alison was taking advantage of it by wearing a black one-piece bathing suit with a wide pink stripe across her middle. “Something on your mind?”

Caroline arranged herself carefully on the cotton sheet that she’d seen Alison pull off her bed earlier in the day. Her only concession to the good weather was that her dress had short sleeves and the hem was just below her knees. Caroline never wore trousers; when Alison had asked why, she’d simply shrugged it off as something she didn’t think she needed in her life.

“Do you remember what we talked about?” Caroline asked, her voice still confident but with an undercurrent of timidity that was completely abnormal for her.

“Of course.” Alison sat up, lotus-style, her palms open on her knees. “Did you tell him?”

She actually blushed. “I wanted to. But when I tried, I couldn’t get the words out.”

Alison smiled. “Were you nervous?”

“Yes. I don’t know why.”

“Because you’re a pretty girl, and he’s a nice-looking boy, and you like him, and he probably likes you.” She grinned slyly. “There’s nothing abnormal about it.”

“Are you certain?”

“Well,” Alison said, “you did come from a pretty sheltered upbringing. That might have a little something to do with it.”

Caroline sighed, which surprised Alison. The taller girl was always so in control of her body and her speech and her emotions. Jason had joked that she reminded him of Seven of Nine, and then had spent ten minutes explaining why a fourteen-year-old Hogwarts student evoked an image of an American actress on a muggle television serial. It still had not been amusing.

“Come on, Caroline,” Alison prodded. “Out with it.”

Caroline looked down at her knees; she was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms around them, hands clasped over her shins. “I talked to my mother.”

“Did you? You never talk about her to us. Are you trying to keep it secret?”

“No,” Caroline said. “It’s just that...” She tried to phrase it properly. “It’s just that I identify so much more with my father, inasmuch as I identify with either of them. I even look like him. I don’t think I look anything like my mother, and since I just met my parents for the first time on Boxing Day, I don’t know enough about what they’re like.”

“So why did you talk to her?”

She swallowed. “I’m not certain.” Caroline reached up unconsciously and fiddled with a curl of her hair. It was as endearing to Alison as Dina’s modesty and Christopher’s incessant flirting. It was more endearing because she doubted Caroline knew she was doing it. “I suppose I wanted to speak to a woman who had been through something like this and could look back upon it.”

“What’d she say?”

Caroline shrugged. “The same as you. She told me to tell the boy how I felt.”

“And did you tell Jason?”

Caroline’s jaw dropped; Alison laughed. “How did you know? I was very careful!”

“It was obvious, Caroline. You stare at him when you think no one’s looking.”

“No one was supposed to be looking.”

“Ah, but you forget, I notice everything.” Alison patted Caroline’s hand. “It’s all right. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.”

“But you really ought to let him know how you feel. Before he falls for some other girl.”

Her gray eyes grew stormier than usual. “Is he planning to do so?”

“I don’t know. I know that he and Dina were something, but that ended right after we got back from winter holidays.”

“Oh.” Caroline’s voice was very small. “Alison, how can I tell him how I feel?”

“However feels comfortable.”

“But it doesn’t feel comfortable!”

“Then maybe he’s not the right guy for you.”

Caroline blushed. “I think he is. I just feel... uncomfortable... telling people about my feelings.”

“I know. It took a month of me being a pain in your neck for you to open up to me.” Alison grinned quickly. “Look, I know it’s tough to talk to boys. Why do you think I don’t?”

“You don’t?”

“Mm-mm.”

“But...” Caroline looked Alison over, appraising her. Alison had the type of body that it seemed most boys were looking to get their hands on, at least from what she’d heard in passing; she was also friendly and quite kind. “But boys talk to you.”

Alison chuckled and cupped her breasts for a moment. “They talk to these. Even under my robes. Trust me, Caroline, it’s better to have what you have than what I have.”

Caroline looked down almost involuntarily; if there was one feature she shared with her mother, it was her breasts. “I suppose you have a point. Although I am tall, so it seems as though they’re looking there anyway.” She blushed; she was still uncomfortable talking frankly about certain things, even though she and Alison were as close as Caroline imagined she could be to a female friend.

“Well,” Alison said, “I’m not saying they’re bad. They’re big enough to fit in one hand apiece; mine overflow.”

“Alison!” Caroline put her arms across her chest.

Alison laughed again. “Relax, Caroline. I come from a very open family. We talk about things like this.”

Caroline relaxed and tried a small smile. “Still, you know it takes me a while to warm up to the topic.”

“I know.” Alison stretched her legs out and leaned over, reaching for her toes, stretching her back. “So, what are you going to do about Jason, now that we’ve managed to get almost completely off-topic?”

She sighed again. “I suppose I could try to tell him again. Perhaps later.”

“Just keep trying,” Alison said. “It’ll come out when it’s ready to, trust me.”

Caroline smiled again, but then thought of something, and the smile disappeared. “Dina is also our friend.” Just as Dina’s hands clenched when she was nervous or uneasy, Caroline’s language became more stilted. “Won’t she be upset if I were to start some kind of relationship with Jason?”

“Well, you could ask her how she feels, if you want. But I think she’ll be all right.”

“How can you know?”

Alison shrugged. “I just do. I know they weren’t kissing or anything, so it’s not as if she really has any claim to him.”

“I hope not. I wouldn’t want to offend her.”

“Dina, I’ve met her mother and her aunt.” Dina was off for the holidays; Parvati and Padma Patil had picked Dina up from the entrance hall to Hogwarts. Alison had been there. She remembered with little fondness how uncomfortable Dina’s family made her. “Nothing you can do could possibly offend Dina.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am.” Alison smiled, then stretched out on her stomach on the sheet. “You should lay out here with me. There’s still a few good hours of sunlight left.”

Caroline shook her head. “I would burn in a few minutes. I nearly had to cast a shade spell before I even came out here to sit with you.”

Alison watched as Caroline got to her feet. “Well, if you change your mind, I have another suit in my bureau. You’re welcome to borrow it.”

Caroline gave Alison a sideways glance. “I doubt it would stay in place. As you’ve said, you’re far more full-figured than I am.”

“You’re a witch,” Alison said lazily as she turned her head and arranged her hair up off her neck. “Figure it out.”

Caroline chuckled and walked away, her dress flickering against her knees as she made her way back to the castle. “Figure it out indeed,” she whispered.

***************************************************

Notes: Dr Hamilton is named for author Laurell K Hamilton, who writes about vampires in the Anita Blake series.

Since this story contains masturbation and breakfast cereal, I would like to share with you the following quote:

\"[People] like to masturbate for the same reason they like to eat Corn Pops. It\'s good. Corn Pops are good, and biting-your-lip-until-it-bleeds orgasms are good. It\'s just a matter of naming the different feelings you have when you see something you want.\" -Carrie Hill Wilner

Reviews, as you know, are always welcome.