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That, thought Neville Longbottom despondently, was a disaster.
“Yes, yes, off you go now.” He waved at young Rosie as she giggled out the greenhouse with a gaggle of chattering friends.
“Enjoy the evening.” He managed a cheery smile at the last stragglers to leave the bombsite that was his treasured classroom.
Neville’s face fell into an unwatched neutral resting expression as he set to putting the fiasco of broken pots and strangled seedlings into some semblance of order. There was some therapeutic benefit, he mused, as he slowly took the dustpan and brush to the mess, delicately picking out a few possible survivors as he cleared the worst away.
An unwarranted chuckle came to him as he recalled Ginny’s owl last week. “You can’t just walk into Herbology and give a Professor love.” A few of the taller shrubs thoughtfully held their branches a touch higher for him, as he reached underneath to collect assorted debris, before ruffling back down into their settled positions.
“No, Albus, it seems you are right.” He then drew his wand to arrange a collection of bedded trays for the new seedlings. “My students definitely do not seem to want my life to go smoothly for me at the moment.”
“Well I am sorry to hear that, handsome.” A honey-warm voice filtered through the evening sunshine as Neville looked up to see his wife gingerly stepping onto the stone floor.
He held mud-encrusted arms to her with a lopsided rueful grin and Hannah appeared to consider the offer before sliding into his chest, pressing full lips under another smear on his shaded jaw. Neville gripped her suddenly around her waist, hoisting her up into a circle with a pirate laugh.
“Unhand me, you brute.” Hannah jested, kicking her feet dramatically, yet making no actual effort to squirm away from his steadfast hold as Neville set her down onto one of the benches, pressing in between her legs.
“For what ransom, my dear?” He murmured into her modest bust, ruining her previously pristine dress beyond the reaches of all but the sternest vanishing charm.
“Mmm.” Emerald eyes gleamed wickedly at him, “Perhaps I have something in mind.” Quick as a flash, she had shimmed backwards, flicking the flirty hem of her sundress a little higher as bright purple knickers came into view.
“I do hope you don’t offer all your patrons the same deal.” Neville waggled his eyebrows comically as he rubbed calloused hands into the soft skin just above her knees.
“I most certainly do not!” She aimed for an affronted tone that came out as more breathless than she liked and made up for it by swinging her legs primly to one side.
Neville opened his mouth, clearly about to apologise, but shut up as he watched Hannah slide said neon knickers down her shapely legs. Soon enough a flash of purple stood out absurdly in the top pocket of his worn leather jacket.
“Let it not be said that I don’t know how to just walk into Herbology and give a Professor love.” She smiled and hopped back down off the table.
“I’ll leave the Cauldron in capable hands tonight,” she continued as if nothing had happened, “How about you finish your paper grading and we’ll say dinner at eight?” Neville nodded, saying his goodbyes as he thanked every lucky star he could think of that he was the only Herbology Professor at Hogwarts.
* * *
The Summer evenings were beginning to wane fast into a more Autumn chill as he whistled down the walkway to the castle gates, thoroughly looking forward to a weekend off. While still young, he was beginning to feel his years in a way that had nothing at all to do with a small streak of grey starting to streak across his temple. Although his own Hogwarts years were fraught with the Reign of Terror, now that his classmates’ children were starting to settle into a youthful stride, sometimes Neville wished he could go back to having that blissful innocence again.
Outside of the disapparition zone, a large crack brought him into a familiar cobbled path, and soon he was pushing open the large friendly doorway of the Leaky Cauldron. While not exactly the epitome of cool, he did admit that living above a pub seemed to give him a distinctive edge compared to some of the other staff.
He look a soulful sniff of the warm smells of fresh bread, sizzling meat and frothing ale, then trotted up the back stairway with a little more spring in his step.
This time, it was Hannah who looked up from stoking the fire as Neville creaked into their apartment, “It’s been a long day today, hasn’t it?” She sighed, pushing him into an armchair before placing a large steaming plate in front of him. They chatted good naturedly about the little things in life for the greater part of an hour and by the end, Neville had to admit that he was feeling rather cheerful.
With practiced ease, he set the plates marching over to the sudsy sink while Hannah covered the remains of dinner, setting the hot dishes aside. On her way back to him, he caught her wrist, spinning her onto his lap in an ungraceful tangle.
He grinned, pleased with himself as she wiggled into a more comfortable position. “Glad to see you’re a little happier.” Hannah smiled, relaxing back with her head resting over the side of the chair, her legs draped over the other chair arm.
“Well my wife surprised me this afternoon.” He told her in a conspiratorial fashion.
“Did she indeed?” Hannah asked archly, preening slightly as his large palm drifted up one thigh.
With a flare, he whisked her knickers out of his top pocket, brandishing them smugly in front of her, “Do you happen to recognise these, Mrs Longbottom?” He asked her austerely.
“Why Professor,” she grinned, “I’ve never seen them before in my life.” His hand slid up a little further, and deep brown eyes widened in surprise as he encountered neatly trimmed curls when he had expected cotton.
“You mean to tell me that you’ve been wandering around all this time downstairs without knickers on?” For some reason, the idea excited him, being the only one to know his lovely little wife was smiling and making chit-chat with the customers, while secretly counting down to a ravishing evening with him.
“Ginny owled me the other day,” she let on, “Did you know that the Ministry records elevator rides?” Hannah asked him, to which he shook his head, “No, neither did Harry!” She laughed gleefully, thinking of the poor intern on security apprenticeship, having to report the illicit activities of one of the top Aurors.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, dear.” Neville smirked to himself, wondering if the papers would get hold of that. He scraped blunt nails gently up Hannah’s inner thighs, smoothing down the return path across her pussy.
He had intended to take his time, playing with her warm folds, but he was surprised to find his fingers quickly dampening. “Mmmm, you really did enjoy yourself, didn’t you?” He asked, rusching the flowered fabric up until it puddled at her waist so that he might get a better view of his glistening prize.
“I don’t think I’ve felt so naughty in years.” She admitted, “Knowing that Ernie was right behind my bar telling me all the inside information at the Prophet, at all I could think about was that if the door suddenly opened, everyone would be so shocked.”
“What a treat it would have been for them, though.” Neville collected some of the wetness, dragging his fingertips along her slit. “Seeing you bend over to collect his cup only to find your pert little bottom out on display.”
Hanna visibly flushed, reaching up to trail her hand across his arm, tugging at the jacket impatiently. “I think I would have been dreadfully embarrassed!”
He shrugged quickly out of the light jacket, returning his hand to stroke her while the other reached under her shoulders to support more of her weight. “You don’t think you’d have liked seeing everyone admire this pretty pussy?” The line sounded ridiculous in his head, but in the moment, this new line of adventure was rather thrilling.
“Neville,” she admonished, “a woman’s lady-garden is hardly what I’d call pretty.”
He suppressed a grin, knowing that he only needed to get her talking a bit more. “I disagree on that one. Look at you.” He swirled around the tip of her folds where her clit was beginning to tingle. “Opening up to me like a beautiful rose.”
His fingers were suddenly flooded by a trickle of sticky warmth, “Spread yourself a bit wider for me, love.” Hannah arched and opened her legs to him, enjoying the newfound confidence he gave her.
“If they could see me draped out over your lap right now.” She drifted further into their fantasy, scoring her nails along the edge of his T-shirt, where it clung tightly to his bicep.
“My favourite sight in the world.” He agreed, teasing wet fingers across the top of her dress as he tried to work out how to get her out of it. Neville eased a perky nipple out, giving a stinging pinch before soothing his thumb over the pink bud.
She let out a sharp gasp, “Zip’s in back.” She managed, bowing her back upwards for him to take down the metal zipper.
“Couldn’t you have buttons that would ping to the floor as my manly hands. . .” He hefted her up a bit more, trying to get at the tiny zip, “. . .ripped the flimsy material. . .” he dragged it down halfway, but struggled as the closing stuck, “. . .daring to cover your. . .” Neville managed to extract each arm, shoving the offending fabric down to her waist and staring as she lay out for him, “. . . tits.”
Hannah raised her eyebrow in amusement, looking equal parts debauched and surprised, “I wasn’t expecting tits.”
Neville’s voice had dropped, “Oh, I was.”
His eyes feasted upon her, drinking in the image like a man dying of thirst and Hannah laughed, brazenly arching as she settled back down across his body. His blunt nails began tracing figure eights around her navel to the top of her breastbone, crossing over at the base of her ribcage someplace where the nerved managed to alight every connection in her body.
Hannah enjoyed the zing that was building as if her muscles began to feel as though they were made up of a thousand hovering butterflies. They played a waiting game, Neville now the patient one, as Hannah tried to twist every time he reached the top of an eight, trying futilely to tempt his hand to stray towards her neglected nipples.
His other large palm sneaked back to the wet heat that was her pussy, rhythmically circling her clit with languid strokes that were far too light to do nothing more than tease. Hannah cooed in thwarted pleasure as she watched the self-satisfied smile creep over her husband’s face. “More.” She insisted quietly, the time for witty repartee being swiftly replaced with a more pressing need.
Neville eased her off his lap, the soft material slipping down her body as she stood, puddling with a soft whisper of fabric at her feet as he quickly stripped out of his shirt. “C’mere, angel.” He reached out, large palms cupping the peachy curves of her bottom, luring her closer to him once more. Sliding one leg at a time, he perched her regally atop his legs, diving up to catch her mouth with his.
Her lips were hot and full, pressing firmly against him before he licked into her mouth, tongue darting against hers before easing up on the pressure of his kiss, dropping onwards to mouth at her jawline, working lower.
Hannah worked quickly at the fastening of his trousers, her patience quickly thinning as the atmosphere elevated. The bulging line of his cock flexed appreciatively beneath her hand as she opened the fly to frame him in an obscenely decadent V. He growled into her breast as she eased his cock out and wrapped her hand around the hardening steel as her other hand curled around a broad shoulder.
She settled her weight more to one side, soothing the building zing in her pussy with leisurely rocks over the rough material still covering Neville’s thighs. She let her head fall back, pushing her breasts against his mouth as she swiped a thumb over the rounded head of his pulsing hardness, wetting the next slide of her palm down the thick shaft.
He let out a sharp intake of breath as his breathing became more ragged, becoming rougher in his touch and interspersing licks with harsher bites to the swell of her breasts. Hannah could be sure that she could just pick out the murmurings of low-voiced praise in between the forceful kisses, and dragged him back up to her face.
Hanna lifted up impatiently and tried to slide his trousers down further, a blush heating her cheeks as she realised she had soaked through the material. His cheek slid coarsely against her as he brushed her hands away, tugging at the trousers with haphazard yanks until he could kick one leg away far enough to satisfy her.
It was an odd thing, he considered, that she would insist upon the banishment of socks before she would allow him to enter her, yet his pants and boxers were allowed to linger around one or both legs (looking, if anything, more ridiculous in his opinion).
However, the location of his clothes were soon a matter of little consideration, as Hannah spread her legs wider for him, opening herself to his touch. He reached down to stroke his cock head through her burning folds and she pushed into him, trying to squirm further into his path.
“Yes, yes, now.” Her tone was breathy as he could tell she began to float in that familiar zone of pleasure. Neville allowed her to sink herself down onto him, their eyes closing as the joint sensations of sweet stretch and hot slickness swept over them.
He responded in something that he hoped came out as agreement, or at least encouragement, shifting her even closer so that he could spear the rest of his length into her. He gave her long, smooth strokes as her grip tightened, leaving a series of half-moons cut into the meat of his shoulder.
Her breasts bounced jauntily with each powerful movement until she draped herself over his chest, crushing their chests together as she chanted an intelligible mantra into his skin.
Neville’s hand tangled into her hair, curving around the back of her neck and tightening as her insides are flooded with warm spurts as he cannot hold back for her any more. He huffs in pleasure as his dick calms, echoing the grin on her face.
He darted quick fingers down to her clit, flicking back and forth in a no nonsense rhythm that brooked no argument. She will come.
Hannah began to really climb, writhing away from his hand and then towards again, undecided as to whether she can really bear it. His hand follows her, giving her far more contact then she would quite manage to maintain on her own.
She tilted her head back, enjoying the sweep of her silky curls down the beaded plane of her spine, twitching into his relentless touch, his cock still feeling delightfully full inside her.
“Come for me.” His voice is broken and gravelly, giving away the fact that his throat had gone dry long ago, as he watched her in unabashed lewd pride.
She manage to flicker her eyes open for a moment and smiled as the ecstasy escalated, bidding him to keep going, just a little more.
“Like I’d stop now.” He promised, capturing her small cries with kisses until she managed to catch the wave of an orgasm, squeezing him as he strokes her shaking body. He slid out of her, slowing his assault on her clit as her buzz began to ebb.
“So you can give a professor love.” Hannah pants proudly, arching her spine in a feline fashion before gingerly curling up into his arms.
Neville fumbles down the side of the seat for his wand, cleaning them up quickly before pushing her fringe away from her damp forehead.
“What?” He tried to sound as unaccusatory as possible.
“Ginny.” She yawned sleepily, chuckling as he finally kicked his legs free of all clothing.
“Should it bother me that you’re thinking of other women when we’re in bed?” He mocked gently, scoring his fingers slowly up and down his shoulder.
“You know what I mean.” She smiled, “Albus.”
He raised an eyebrow, his cheeky audaciousness safe in the knowledge that his wife was well satisfied, “I think I preferred the other women.”
Hanna squeezed his bicep in jesting disdain, “Well, don’t forget to give Albus my thanks.”
Neville’s eyes widened, “Hannah, you can’t give a student thanks.”
She chuckled at him, grateful that this, right here after all that they had been through, was her happy ever after. “I’ll owl Ginny in the morning.”