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.

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TWENTY: CAROLINE MALFOY\'S DAY OUT, PART TWO - A DAY IN THE LIFE

Warning: contains some pretty nice legs and some pretty prurient thoughts. Also foreshadowing. And masturbation.

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The wizarding section of Aberdeen was like Diagon Alley; they had to go through a pub to get there, and then touch their wands to a series of indentations on a solid brick wall. The bricks parted, though, and Caroline knew this was nothing like the Alley. For one thing, the street was wide and tree-lined, and there was far less hustle and bustle. Of course, there were also far fewer shops. There was a Gringott’s – all the vaults were connected through spatial displacement spells to all the branches – and there was a Novel Expectations. There was a wand shop – the name was something in Gaelic that she had no hope of reading – and there was a sporting-goods-and-games store. That store, called “Quidditch And Such”, proudly proclaimed in the window to be proud affiliates of the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes Franchise Program.

“Mr Weasley has a store, too?”

Jason shook his head as they walked past QAS, as it was colloquially called. “It’s his older brothers, Fred and George. I met them once in Diagon Alley; nice blokes, a bit too into practical joking for my taste. Professor Flitwick shows all the first years their little swamp, too.”

“I was wondering what that was there for.”

“Ask Mr Weasley, or one of the professors who was at Hogwarts during the Voldemort War; they’ll tell you all about it. In fact, I think your mother may have helped them create it.”

Caroline shrugged one slender shoulder; Jason noticed how it made her chest rise and fall, but did his best not to stare.

They walked past a couple of restaurants, a clothing shop, and a market before coming to a small park.

“This is very nice,” Caroline said as they sat down on one of the wooden benches.

“Thanks.” They had switched sides several times along the walk; Caroline was now on Jason’s right. “I’m sorry it’s not much of a tour; there aren’t a lot of wizarding folk in Aberdeen, and most of the people who run the shops don’t live here anyway. They have homes out in the country. But I know almost everyone.”

“I recognize that person,” Caroline said suddenly, inclining her head in the direction of the far end of the park. Jason followed her gaze and saw what she was looking at.

Perched in one of the trees, what looked like a journal on her left knee, her right foot on her broom as it floated in place below the branch, was a young woman wearing black short-shorts and an oversized American muggle football jersey in red and gold with the number 42 emblazoned across the chest.

“That’s the Gryffindor seeker, Jamie Dupree,” Jason said. “I wonder what she’s doing here.”

“We could always ask.”

“Would you like to?”

“In a moment. But I believe there’s something we’ve neglected.”

Jason looked puzzled. For exactly five seconds. Then Caroline leaned over and kissed him softly.

They were still kissing several minutes later when a politely-cleared throat drew Jason’s attention away from his girlfriend. He pulled reluctantly away from her. “Um. Hello,” he said, surreptitiously wiping his mouth with the back of his hand; Caroline was wearing very understated lipstick, but he still felt it on his mouth. He tried again, more confidently. “Hello, Jamie.”

“Hi.” She had her broom in a sling over her shoulder – it was a Comet 900, a two-year-old model that came close to matching the maneuverability and speed of the Firebolt MXC, that company’s broom release from 2010 – and what Jason confirmed was indeed a Journal under her right arm. Even though Jamie had the small, slender build of a good seeker – and Jason had heard rumors of scouts watching her play at Hogwarts – her legs were well-muscled and well-tanned below the high hem of her shorts, and Jason had to fight the urge to appreciate them openly. That would be a terrible mistake, especially considering that his girlfriend was sitting right next to him.

“Jamie, this is Caroline Malfoy. Caroline, Jamie Dupree, the Gryffindor seeker. You’re seventh year this fall, right?”

Jamie nodded and shook Caroline’s hand.

“Something on your mind?” he asked Jamie.

She shrugged.

“Then... can we help you?” This was Caroline.

She shrugged again; Jason didn’t know Jamie very well, as Ravenclaws tended to socialize with their own house, almost to the exclusion of the others, a practice frowned upon but not prohibited as such. However, it seemed as though there was something she wanted to say.

Eventually, Jamie sighed and unslung her broom, sitting on it as if it was the most normal thing in the world to use a broom like that as a chair. “I’m sorry, I just needed to see a familiar face. Even if you did paste us on the pitch.”

Jason grinned. “That we did. Is something the matter?”

She sighed again. Caroline and Jason shared a brief glance, their fingers intertwining. “Look, I hate to do this, but my parents moved here during the year and now I live just outside the city. I don’t know anyone, I have nothing to do, and I’m going out of my mind trying to occupy myself until school starts.”

“Don’t you have an Apparition license?” Caroline asked. “I’m sure you could go see your friends that way.”

Jamie blushed. “I failed the test. Twice. Now I have to take a mandatory course on it, which fortunately Professor Vector teaches at Hogwarts. I felt so foolish.”

“Apparition isn’t easy,” Jason said. “My mother can’t do it, and she’s thirty-seven years old.” He conveniently left out that, except for some very basic spells and sensitivity to magic, his mother was basically a squib.

“It still makes me feel foolish.”

“Then,” Caroline asked gently, “why are you telling us?”

Jamie blushed; her skin was tan enough that it barely showed. Jason looked downward, commisserating in her embarrassment – Caroline had a way of asking questions that still took even him by surprise on occasion – and once again had to wrench his eyes away from Jamie’s bare legs.

“I don’t know. I guess I had to tell someone, and I know Goldman from Quidditch, so that kind of makes us more than just acquaintances.”

Jason brightened a little. For all he seemed to shun social climbing, having a seventh year Quidditch captain to call friend would enhance his standing among those who paid attention to those things. Especially one with legs like that.

He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. He had Caroline. She was beautiful. He had no reason to look at anyone else. He squeezed her hand gently, as if to remind her of that fact.

“Look,” Jamie said, “would you mind if I dropped by your house occasionally? I’ll Floo first. At the very least we can fly around a bit.”

“I guess that would be all right,” Jason said. “D’you know where we live?”

She nodded. “I looked you up in the directory.”

“There’s a directory?” Caroline asked.

“A muggle telephone directory,” Jason clarified. “We have some muggle devices at home, including a telephone, so we’re in the directory.”

“Is that what your father gave you when you left home? A portable telephone?”

He shook his head. “It’s actually a hand mirror that acts as a communication system. I call home on it, and the mirror just outside the downstairs loo lets me talk to my parents.”

“That’s pretty wicked,” Jamie said, shifting on her broom. Jason forced himself to ignore her legs, but it was a tough fight. “Can I see?”

The three Hogwarts students sat in the park for a couple of hours, and then repaired to a café for lunch. The day was bright and sunny, so they sat at an outside table. The café itself was run by a family of squibs that lived down the lane from Jason – it was called Wilson’s – and it was a quiet enough lunch hour that the owner, Bruce, brought out their meals himself. Wilson’s served American-style food – burgers, chips, salads, and so on; Mr Wilson had lived for two decades in America and seemed to miss the food more than anything else. After lunch – which had been pleasant, if a little strange; Jamie was, after all, three years older than Jason and Caroline, and had only Quidditch and Hogwarts in common with the other two students – Jamie departed on her broom, leaving through the back of the park in a blur of red and gold.

“That was odd,” Jason remarked as they basked in the sunshine.

“Yes.” Caroline sipped at the tall glass of lime-water she was nursing. She shivered, and Jason noticed that even though it was warm outside, parts of Caroline were quite chilled. He tried not to look as he reached across the table and rested his left hand over her right.

“She did seem awfully down about things, even though she had on quite the brave face.”

“I couldn’t tell.” Caroline set down the water. “I’m not as good at reading people as you are.”

“I’m not even that good. But Jamie was broadcasting it. It was like she needed someone to talk to or she was going to go off and slash her wrists or something.”

“Jason, that’s horrible,” Caroline said. But she didn’t pull her hand away; she knew he didn’t mean it maliciously.

“Yes, I agree. But that’s what I got off her.”

“What’s she like, normally?”

Jason shrugged. “I’m not sure. I don’t know her all that well beyond Quidditch. I guess she’s normal. Or, at least, she used to be.”

Caroline and Jason finished their drinks and Jason paid for the meal – in Euros, which most wizarding restaurants took now, in addition to galleons, sickles, and knuts. The goblins at Gringott’s gave an excellent rate of exchange. They walked back down the avenue – Jason told Caroline it didn’t have a name; everyone just called it “the avenue” and left it at that. It worked out well because there was a new-ish shopping district several miles away, also called “The Avenue”. But when they made it to the wall by the pub, they realized there was little left to do.

“We could go back to my house,” he said. “Or walk around the countryside, if you prefer.”

Caroline shrugged. “Is there anywhere we can go to be alone?” she asked as they started walking back up the street, toward the park and the other exit from the avenue.

Jason felt a twitch in his lower belly. “I think I could find a place.”

When it came to magic involving complicated theory, Jason was a natural. He was very good at Transfiguration, Potions, and Arithmancy, and more than fair at Charms. It was no trouble for him to transfigure his handkerchief – thankfully, he hadn’t used it that day – into a blanket big enough for two. There was a meadow about half a mile behind Jason’s house, a shallow bowl of rolling hills around it. There was a tree that Jason distinctly remembered climbing, falling from, and breaking his arm, back when he was seven or so; it was under that tree’s spreading branches that he laid out the blanket on the soft clover of the ground.

He had no expectations. He had hopes, to be sure, just as every fourteen-year-old boy does, but if Caroline had said she wanted to do nothing but lay there, he would be happy just to be with her.

Which was lucky, because after a few minutes of gentle kisses, she snuggled up against him. Caroline was only three inches shorter than he was now; Jason had topped out at six feet about a month ago, and the medi-wizard who made house calls through their part of Scotland said he would grow no taller. Her body was long and lean and soft against his, her arm across his chest, her head on his shoulder. Her breasts were warm and comfortable against his side, one of her long legs twined with his from the knee down.

He was fighting with everything he had not to get an erection.

Jason tangled his fingers in a wave of Caroline’s long hair, letting it wrap around his fingers; her dark-gray eyes looked up at him, her face soft and open. He met her eyes, and she pressed her body to his, nuzzling unconsciously at his chest as her eyes started to close.

This was promising. He was perfectly willing to let her sleep draped across him like this.

He was lucky her eyes were closed. When he realized how comfortable he felt with her, there was no way the erection could be avoided.


Caroline awoke a couple of hours later, stirring gently before pushing herself off Jason’s prone body. His face was slack with sleep as well, head turned away from her. She disentangled herself from his legs and his arm and brushed her fingers through her hair. The bodice of her dress had been pulled slightly sideways, and she righted it; after a furtive look around, she readjusted her brassiere as well.

Jason didn’t seem to have noticed she was no longer half-on-top of him. She blushed at the thought. It had felt so... so right to do that, to bask in the hollow of his body until she fell asleep. And despite her father’s warnings and her mother’s no-nonsense “practical magic” talk, which they’d had on Tuesday afternoon over tea and chocolate biscuits, Jason had been a gentleman.

But as she looked down at his body, she realized that it had been mind over matter. There was a noticeable bulge below the waist of his trousers, and she couldn’t help but stare at it. The talk with her mother had included some fairly-detailed pictures – some of them animated, all of them completely clinical – and so she knew what was under his fly. She’d never seen one in person, but she had to admit to more than her fair share of curiosity.

Caroline checked to ensure that Jason’s eyes were closed, then leaned down closer to his crotch, eyeing the bulge critically from several angles. She wished she could see it in person, but the very thought of asking that made her blush so hotly she had to turn away.

Just in time, too; Jason seemed to be stirring. He sat up slowly in a sitting position, licking his lips, and then when he appeared to realize that he was erect, he leaned forward, as if to stretch.

Mind over matter. Definitely.

“Sleep well?” he asked her.

She nodded. “How long did you watch me?”

“About half an hour. Then I couldn’t hold back and nodded off myself. Is that all right?”

“It’s fine,” she assured him, her hand covering his. He watched her as she initiated a kiss, her lips petal-soft on his own. She wasn’t much of an initiator, and he took each one offered with the appreciation it was deserving.

She was also a hell of a kisser. Jason kept wondering where she learned that skill from.

The sun was in the western part of the sky; Jason checked his watch. 5:15 on one side, “near dinner” on the other. “Do you want to go in and eat?”

“Not just yet,” she said. “I watched the sunrise this morning. Would you like to watch the sunset with me?”

Jason nodded. “It’s midsummer, though. The sun won’t go down for a few hours yet.”

“I don’t mind.”

Jason stepped away and flipped open the mirror in his pocket. He told his mother, who happened to be passing, that he’d be out in the field watching the sunset, and then they’d be along. She grinned at him and said it was all right, so he snapped the mirror shut and returned it to where it had been before rejoining Caroline on the blanket.

She wasted no time in kissing him again and again. When the sun grew low enough, Jason pulled the blanket back against the tree and leaned against it; Caroline sat between his legs, her back against his chest, his arms around her waist. Again, the feeling of rightness suffused her.

Jason, meanwhile, was fighting an erection again. He knew that if he got one, the tip of it would probably poke Caroline’s bottom. He had readjusted as best he could when he’d moved the blanket, but it didn’t matter. He was fourteen, and there was a pretty girl in his lap. It was threatening to rise from where he’d tucked it in the leg of his shorts, and if it popped out, it would be blatantly obvious.

He thought of everything he could, but no matter how many images of Professor Snape dancing ballet or Hagrid feeding huge chunks of meat to the various animals in the Hogwarts menagerie he conjured up, the sensation of Caroline sitting serenely between his legs was impossible to ignore. He finally managed to slide his body back just far enough that when the inevitable happened, he felt no soft resistance. No sign from Caroline that she even noticed.

He held in his sigh of relief as the sun slipped below the horizon, and then transfigured the blanket back into a handkerchief before kissing Caroline once more and taking her hand as they walked back to his house.

“I’m just going to go upstairs for a moment,” Jason said offhandedly. Caroline nodded and went into the downstairs loo; Jason took the stairs three at a time and barely avoided slamming the bathroom door shut behind himself. The moment it was conceivably possible to do so in privacy, he unzipped his fly and pulled himself out of his shorts. When he’d put the blanket away, he’d managed to tuck himself firmly down, enough that the half-mile walk back had been safe enough.

Now, though, he was hard enough to dent the concrete block of the bathroom wall. He wrapped his hand around the length of his flesh, the lid of the toilet open, leaning forward, one hand on the wall. His eyes closed and images of Caroline, snuggled against him, played behind his eyes.

Jason bit back a moan and felt a surge begin from behind his balls; it burst up and through him and the splash as the first spurt of his orgasm hit the toilet water was surprising enough that he let go.

That was a mistake. The next one spattered against the lifted toilet seat, the third against the wall behind it, dripping down in a pearlescent smear. Quickly he grabbed himself and pointed downward, short quick strokes milking it out of him as best he could. Even though he’d done this in the shower almost fourteen hours ago, he was still amazed at just how much he’d come.

Fortunately, his wand was still in the special pocket in his trousers. He washed his hands, the length of his flesh still half-hard and hanging out of his fly, and then withdrew the wand.

Luckily for Jason, he’d learned cleaning charms backward and forward. By the time he flushed the toilet, the only evidence that he’d been there at all was a hand-towel hanging on the bar on the wall, damp from use after he’d washed his hands and dried them off.

His face in the mirror looked normal. Not flushed. Not sweaty. No one would know. And he could go downstairs and share dinner with his girlfriend and his family in relative peace.

Caroline washed her hands after she flushed the toilet. She had used it for its intended purpose, but had been sorely tempted to try some of the more direct techniques of stimulation Alison had shared with her and Dina during third year. She promised herself that she’d take care of it later, although the throbbing between her legs was growing to an uncomfortably-noticeable level.

She’d waited in the living room for Jason, and taken his hand – both of their hands were cool and dry from being washed – and they’d gone into the dining room together.

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Notes: Jamie\'s jersey is from the San Francisco 49ers, the only NFL team I could think of at the time that has Gryffindor colors.

The family who runs Wilson\'s is named after two of my very favorite college professors, Dr Wilson and Dr Hamann.

And yes, I realize that there\'s quite a lot of masturbation in this story. Have you ever been a 13- or 14-year-old boy? Believe me. There\'s a lot of it in real life too. But don\'t fret. There will be a girl getting herself off very, very soon.