Title: Harry the Potter & The Good Prince Severus the Pouty
Warnings: humour with the merest drop of angst and including - hair frottage, anal play, rimming, a hand job, and mention of happy porpoises having blowhole sex
Wordcount: approximately 4,350
Summary: The long captive good Prince Severus the Pouty finds handsome young Harry the Potter a most charming visitor...
A/N: This one is for my sweetie chazpure because I love to hear her laugh.
The characters are JK Rowlings.
The situations they're in are the author's.
No profit was made.
* * * * *
"It's crooked. It tips."
"It is not! I've told you not to sit, but perch. It's a perfectly serviceable chamber pot."
There was a slight sound of displaced air, a long silence punctuated by the far-off tinkling crash of broken pottery.
"No longer. Now send for the potter."
* * * * *
The good witch Minerva was at her wits end. Prince Severus the Pouty was driving her mad. She was really getting far too old to deal with a grown man prone to moodiness.
Two decades ago the good king had asked her to see to the Prince's needs, including his tutoring at the time and this she had done without question. She felt the least the Prince could do was be grateful for her efforts, but it apparently wasn't in him to muster up gratitude.
It wasn't her fault the Liege King Albus had banished him from Castle Hogwarts to the lighthouse atop the Cliffs of Calamity near the far town of Upper Honkerificus. The King had used quite powerful magic to strand him, clearly displeased with the Prince. Harsh punishment or not, as far as she was concerned he should accept his banishment with grace and dignity, not gloom and tantrums.
Minerva did not rightly know what pouty Prince Severus had done to so displease his liege at such a tender age, but she knew good King Albus was fair and even-handed, if a bit dotty with age. So if Prince Severus had been banished to the lighthouse atop the Cliffs of Calamity for the last twenty years, it must be for a good reason.
Over the years, Minerva had heard the rumours that Prince Severus had been banished to the high cliffs because he had pushed the king's most trusted advisor, Sirius the Swotty & Insufferable, off a cliff, making him Sirius the Hideously Scarred & Maimed, but she dismissed it. In the decade she'd lived with and taught him and in the following decade that she'd been braving the Cliffs of Calamity to bring the cranky prince food and supplies, she had not seen any sign of murderous rage in him. True, he did like pitching things off the cliff, but then there was not a lot to do up on the heights and he had ne'er threatened her with anything dangerous.
Prince Severus the Pouty was often sullen and not much for speaking, it was true, and she had noted with approval that he was not overly fond of wine and strong spirit, although he brewed up both. She'd seen men go mad with wine or strong spirit and do horrible things, so it couldn't be a love of either that had brought about the pouty Prince's downfall; moreover he had been a boy of ten at the time of his banishment and not yet given strong drink.
Despite his showing aptitude in potion-making and herbology during his tutoring sessions as a boy, he ne'er showed any inclination to use those herbs or potions in any but medicinal ways. The Prince still brewed up all manner of unguents & potions for healing and most magic uses and she did not believe hands that made things that healed could harm, at least not without good reason.
From the potions and unguents he brewed he made a most decent living (after Minerva took off her delivery fees). She brought him what he asked for with the sole exception of potion ingredients that sounded too dangerous. It was for his own good!
Of course, she could not feed a Prince unhealthy foods, so she made quite sure he got no foodstuffs she did not approve of like meat and pastries and sweets and nuts and cream and exotic vegetables. Even if he did grow cantankerous over eating her turnip and nettle stew, she felt quite proud to be keeping him healthy.
In addition, since Minerva strongly felt Princes as well as Princesses should be chaste, she did everything she could to ensure his virtue had been maintained, even frightening him from touching himself. So of course he did not get any illustrated tomes containing prurient images, even if the tomes were educational.
She had not even dared take a rope up to him to let him come down to the water in case the porpoises were too frisky for his innocent eyes. Besides, she was quite sure the liege king intended his banishment to remain so, and allowing him down would have led to him questioning why he could not row himself over to Honkerificus and live there instead, which would not do. The good witch Minerva would ne'er be one to go against royal decree!
Still, she was mindful Severus might be called on to lead some day. Hence, his words needed to be pure. So foul language on his part had been met with a sharp rebuke followed by a stinging slap until he stopped the filthy habit. He'd not uttered such words in over 19 years. Tomes with harsh words or foul language or strange, foreign concepts were most definitely not allowed, either. She was, in all, quite pleased with the way he'd turned out.
She was quite positive he could not complain of being ill treated in any way. She'd done her best and that was all the world could ask, she knew.
So really, Minerva simply could not fathom what pernicious evil spirit filled pouty Prince Severus with such vile humours at times.
* * * * *
"Can't you just give me your best one and I can take it to him?"
Young Harry the potter shook his head at the good witch Minerva as he thoughtfully chewed on his full, lush, lower lip. To her chagrin, she had discovered the village potter had retired and his nephew from the village over had taken over the business. This new potter clearly had different work ideals.
"Won't work. I like to measure my clients, make sure of the right fit."
"Well, the Prince is about eighteen hands high and is lean, with long bones."
Harry the potter shook his head again. "I didn't say a good fit, good witch Minerva. I said the right fit. Needs must I assess the Prince, take measurements and assure we are both satisfied."
She fretted now. It was bad enough she had to brave the Cliffs of Calamity twice in one day, but to bring along another - especially a young, handsome boy who might see up her skirts as she climbed? Her great aunt Cordelia would have fainted.
"I don't know--"
"Why don't I just go myself? It won't take me long and I can be sure of the right fit."
She hesitated, considering this. The young man was clearly earnest and hard working, which she approved of.
"Do you use foul language, young potter?"
"No, ma'am. I was raised by my mother's sister and she did not hold with such things. The one time I tried, she washed my mouth with soap and rinsed it out with vinegar and rubbed salt into the sore spots and told me the blisters should remind me to only speak with good and pleasant words."
"Just so." Minerva thought she would approve of his aunt. "The Cliffs are most high and treacherous. Can you manage them twice in one day?"
"Well, you want to measure him. Won't you have to measure and then come back for the right pot?"
Young Harry the potter smiled broadly, his green eyes shining with merriment.
"Oh, nay. I will take my clay and fashion one directly. He has a hearth I'm sure."
"All I require is a bottle of my most powerful fire enhancer to use his hearth and fire the pot right there in his home."
Minerva relaxed. That did sound more possible.
"Will you be able to carry all that up the cliffs? It takes two hands to pull yourself up and the rope is rather greasy," she noted, wondering if she should tell him just what the rope consisted of.
"Oh, aye. I'm very strong and have often felt I could e'en carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. Perhaps this is vanity, but I'm fair sure I'd be quite able to manage a sack of clay, a bottle and my own sturdy self on one greasy rope. 'Twill be no bother."
She studied his strong, work-roughened hands and nodded approvingly.
"Very well, just row yourself to the cliff bottom where a picture of a cauldron is drawn and call up, "Prince Severus, Prince Severus, throw down your hair!"
"It's a long story. Perhaps he'd best tell you whilst you fire his pot. Oh, and my good lad -- please pay no attention to the porpoises, they get a wee bit frisky at times."
* * * * *
Young Harry the potter stared up at the near vertical Cliffs of Calamity and wondered what manner of man would choose to live so high and isolated. Whilst the water was lovely and the porpoises energetic and engaging, he could not even see the top of the cliffs therefore anyone up there could not see the beauty of the water or be charmed by the porpoises.
Harry was just barely twenty and so he'd ne'er heard the full story of Prince Severus the Pouty, although having grown up in Honkerificus Tender he'd heard that there was, indeed, a Prince living atop the Cliffs of Calamity near Upper Honkerificus.
As a boy he'd often pretended he was a prince, waving a stick for a sword with a broken plate for a shield. He also often wondered how many dragons Prince Severus had slain, for it was said he was quite old and Harry could not imagine any Prince growing to be old without having slain a few dragons. Now he thought he might well be able to ask.
He anchored his small rowboat and filling his lungs, he shouted up with a cupped hand to his mouth, "Prince Severus, Prince Severus, throw down your hair!"
He waited, but nothing happened beyond a seagull flying overhead and peppering the boat with scat. Had the prince heard him? Perhaps he was only used to the good witch Minerva.
On this thought, a sudden heavy thunk! startled him which on examination turned out to be the heavy coiled end of a very thick braid of shiny black hair, curled at the bottom of his boat and stretched out high above, leading up the cliffs.
Harry studied it and tugged slightly to assess it, before shrugging and slinging his bag over his shoulder and beginning to climb, taking care to wipe his hands from time to time of grease.
* * * * *
Despite his wiping his hands, the grease eventually clogged his shirt and the wiping stopped helping. Young Harry kept sliding down from time to time, clamping his thighs around the rope even tighter. It was not long before he realized the friction was quite pleasant between his thighs.
As he climbed and slid, climbed and slid, it was not long before he felt his thick organ begin to grow erect in his trews.
By the time the top was near, the young potter had achieved more than the summit and he profoundly hoped the good Prince did not notice the swelling in his trews.
* * * * *
Young Harry the potter had barely finished dragging himself over the edge of the Cliffs of Calamity when the strong corded rope of hair in his hands suddenly whipped free and with a loud snick! of sound began to unravel from its braid. Soon yards upon yards of glossy black hair surrounded them both and as Harry watched in amazement, the Prince blinked and concentrated and the hair seemed to contract, shrinking down until a neat fringe of gleaming black hair brushed his shoulders.
He was not old at all! Why, Prince Severus the Pouty was barely old enough to be his father, and was tall, with fine alabaster skin accentuated by that gorgeous hair. He was quite the figure of a proud man with an impressively large hooked nose. The tavern wenches and wights in the village all talked about men with large noses, and Harry felt his organ throb with renewed interest.
"Who are you?"
Young Harry the potter wasn't sure if he should bow or kneel or what exactly, so instead he spat on one sturdy hand, wiped it on his shirt and bowing his head, he extended his thus-cleaned hand to the Prince.
"What is that for?"
Harry looked up to see Prince Severus the Pouty staring at his hand with curiousity and a touch of suspicion.
"Where I come from, we shake hands when we meet someone new."
Prince Severus frowned, then held a hand up and flapped it a little as if waving away a fly.
Young Harry was abruptly charmed. How very innocent this Prince was, despite looking the same age as Remus the woodsman from his village of Honkerificus Tender.
"No, good Prince. Like this." Harry took the Prince's hand in his and shook it carefully. To his surprise, that hand was not soft or effete. The Prince's hand was dry and warm and rough and oddly discoloured in places as if the skin had been stained with something.
"Now. Who are you?"
"I am Harry the potter from Honkerificus Tender, sent by the good witch Minerva to fashion you a new chamber pot, my good Prince."
"Well, well. She's certainly shown surprisingly uncommon sense for a change. No more pre-made pots."
"Not whilst I'm the village potter!" Harry declared. "I will not sell anyone of quality a pre-made pot. Those are for common, lowly men such as myself."
Prince Severus the Pouty eyed Harry suspiciously again, but he seemed sincere. How could this handsome young man with his sparkling green eyes, his full, lush smiling lips, his dewy complexion and strong, muscled body possibly consider himself common and lowly? He felt his loins begin to throb and frowned. Perhaps he should visit the stable for a moment and add to the muck there. It was clear his member required draining.
"Very well. You may wait by the lighthouse. I must attend to something in the stables."
Young Harry beamed. "May I come, too, good Prince? I love seeing horses."
Prince Severus hesitated. "Er..."
"May I pat them? With your good permission, of course."
"Well, um, actually," he admitted now, blushing a bit. "Needs must I drain my member."
Young Harry's smile grew and the Prince felt his member not only throb, but twitch.
"Splendid! The perfect time for me to measure you for the pot!"
How could the Prince say no?
* * * * *
Prince Severus was certainly not pouty at the moment, his trews tangled about his ankles on the floor of the stable, his most embarrassingly rigid member waving in the air as he stood bent over before young Harry the potter who was most judiciously assessing his arse with those strong fingers.
"Yes, with so little fat, I will have to fashion a wide rounded rim for your comfort." Harry squeezed both trim globes with both hands, his thumbs slipping slightly along the opening and making the Prince drool from two places. The young potter slipped his thumbs in further and spread those firm arse cheeks, exposing a part of Severus that had heretofore ne'er been exposed. "It looks as if there is not enough grease in your diet, my good Prince. You've a few sore areas where the passage has chafed from dry elimination."
Prince Severus tried to remember how to speak without babbling whilst those thumbs gently circled his royal pucker. "Er..."
"If you wouldn't mind me offering, your highness, I'd consider it an honour to soothe these areas for you."
Severus managed a stiff nod as his hands gripped the wood of the stable door tightly. With what, he wondered, would he soothe those areas?
Prince Severus the Pouty gasped and trembled as young Harry the potter began to gently lick the chafed areas with his strong, juicy tongue.
"Sweet Merlin have mercy..."
Young Harry did not respond, thinking the Prince was sore and hurting, so he licked further with his tongue, over and over those tender areas. Soon he realized the Prince appeared to be babbling something about ne'er having believed, good gracious, and what would Minerva say, dear Merlin don't let her come now by all that was most magical!
He moved back and spat on the pucker and continued to carefully rub it into those areas with gentle thumbs. The poor Prince, having such hurts and no one to tend them. Harry wondered again why the Prince lived alone.
"Is that better, good Prince?"
Prince Severus the Pouty nodded raggedly, unable to speak as those thumbs kept sliding gently around and along his pucker. His head cleared abruptly as Harry pulled his hands free and he found his hips wagging, royal member achingly hard and arse still tingling with the joyous feeling the young potter had imparted. Surely this was not evil but good?
"My good Prince?"
Severus opened his eyes to find young Harry before him, an expression of concern on his face.
"Did I hurt you?"
The Prince shook his head rapidly.
"Are you okay?"
He shook his head rapidly again.
"What is wrong that I may right it for you, my good Prince?"
"M-my... my member. It... it aches."
Harry stared at it and found his eyes widening with appreciation. Verily the town wenches and wights spoke the truth about large noses! His highness was truly blessed.
"Perhaps the good Prince should relieve his needs," he suggested.
To his surprise, good Prince Severus the Pouty suddenly cringed and drew back.
"Nay! 'Tis a most wicked act and one sure to draw down the wrath of the Titans!"
"My dear Prince - who told you this?"
"The good witch Minerva. Long has this been my bane. I cannot control the traitorous flesh and betimes at night it is bewitched to spit and befoul my bed with my doom. E'en knowing it could spell my doom I cannot control its humours and often it seeks to disturb me for days on end without cease. When it does, all I can do is ride the horses to a lather until my bollocks are sore swollen and my member is numbed. Thus far I am lucky the Titans have not smelt the wickedness on me and come to smite me in my solitude," the Prince confessed.
Young Harry wanted to laugh, but dared not. How could the good Prince believe such fairy tales? Such things were said to children when they were caught pleasuring themselves in public so as to frighten them into learning to pleasure themselves privately. The Prince was utterly alone atop the cliffs; he could pleasure himself all day with naught but the animals knowing. That he had not spoke of great strength of character to young Harry and not foolishness as some might consider it.
Still, he grew sad at the thought that this proud and lonely Prince had yet to know the simple, basic pleasure of taking his member in hand.
"Nay, my good Prince," he said softly and earnestly. "It is not doom you will bring upon yourself with such an act."
Prince Severus stared at him with mingled hope and fear. "How do you know this?"
"For verily I have relieved my needs more times than I can e'en remember and ne'er once has anything ill befallen me... well, except for my parents being killed but that was before I was of age to summon the beast with one eye."
Harry smiled now and reached a firm, warm hand to wrap it around the good Prince's royal member. He stroked gently, pulling the foreskin back to reveal the plump, purple head and then forward again to cover it, making it appear to wink. A single drop appeared at the tip as he drew the foreskin back again.
"Hark! The beast weeps," Harry noted.
The Prince stared at Harry's hand on his royal member and trembled, the feelings coursing through him with such strength that he knew if a Titan existed, it would already be here. Had it all been a lie? Had the good witch done evil by him?
"Why would the good witch Minerva tell me such lies?"
"Some good women not having known the touch of another good man or good woman become quite craven and sparse with their affections and penurious with all manner of things, sometimes food, sometimes, drink, sometimes sex. Mine own good aunt had a touch of this affliction, although she believed in good food, if not other things such as sex and the use of magic."
The good Prince considered this and looked back down to the hand that continued to gently stroke him.
"So sex is not merely to create heirs and ne'er to be contemplated otherwise?"
"Nay, sweet Prince! In every village in the land, all that can partake of sex do so, and quite vigorously and often."
The good Prince continued to consider all this whilst staring at that strong hand that was stroking the most amazing feelings into his very core.
"So this is not an evil most foul?" he finally asked in a small, hopeful voice.
"Nay, my good Prince. If I lie, thou may'st slay me, but I am not lying for I find dishonesty a wretched vice. 'Twould be an honour for me to serve thee... if thou wouldst allow it."
So Harry did and soon the prince was hard-pressed not to push his hips forward into that tight grip that was doing such good to his royal member. All too soon the amazing feeling rose to a glorious peak and good Prince Severus was crying out helplessly as his one-eyed beast spit copiously all over the soft hay of the stables and young Harry the potter's hand.
He found himself collapsed atop the sweet hay, staring up at the beguiling young potter who had hunkered down beside him, astonished.
"Oh, my sweet, dear young man. You have unfettered me from my own folly. I prostrate myself before you that you may tread upon me and not sully your feet. I am a worm of the lowest dirt-dwelling form. I am--"
"Oh, my dear good Prince," Harry cried with a smile. "I am naught but an uncommonly talented potter and you are a far too lonely and long-neglected Prince who merely needs a good firm hand to guide him."
"Would you be my good firm hand, sweet sir Harry?"
"Nay, I am no knight. I am but a mere potter."
"Nay, I say you are my staunchest, smartest, most handsome of knights. You are my sweet Sir Harry, for you have wielded my weapon and it hath baptized you with my royal seed."
"Aye, 'tis true I have been baptized."
"Then rise, Sir Harry, and be my right hand."
"Your word is my command, kind Prince, but first... don't you think I should make your chamber pot?"
"Then, if you please, my good Prince, take thy member in hand and show me how far you stand from the pot to piss. I may need to take measurements again."
For the first time in his life, Prince Severus the Pouty smiled.
* * * * *
That afternoon in the lighthouse, the tale of how Sirius the Swotty and Insufferable had cursed him to grow long greasy hair and how this had caused him to push the arrogant berk off a high tower was told to young Harry the potter. This was followed by a confession on young Harry's part about what the hair had done to him whilst climbing.
That evening the Cliffs of Calamity resounded with cries ne'er before heard in Honkerificus proper. They sounded a lot like a young man having the time of his life engaged in hair frottage.
That night, the lighthouse resounded with still more and deeper cries. They sounded a lot like a mature man engaged in joyous buggery for the first time ever.
No one worried, though, as the cries sounded joyous and heartwarming and many couples in their beds turned to each other and cuddled together in bliss and contentment. Even the porpoises in the waters below the cliffs approved, frolicking madly and having wild blowhole sex as a means of cheering.
Good witch Minerva was untroubled as she had been growing rather hard of hearing o'er the years and so slept undisturbed, enjoying placid, pastoral dreams of sheep and cheese and good, brown bread.
* * * * *
Thus it was that the good witch was able to retire with a light heart from her onerous duties. In truth, she'd told an amazingly good-spirited Prince Severus, she was getting rather old to be hauling herself and supplies up on a rope made of hair. With a kiss, Prince Severus the no-longer-so Pouty wished her well in her retirement and promised to write every month.
Once Sir Harry took over getting the supplies, Prince Severus grew quite hearty and plump on the wonderful food the good witch Molly of Lower Honkerificus began to send via a most wondrous magical carpet. The Prince was also quite happy to get more exotic ingredients to make new unguents and potions.
Soon thereafter the villagers began to call him Prince Severus the Potions Master, for his medicaments were of such high quality, that all but the most old or frail got well when they took them.
Sir Harry the Potter eventually built a kiln on the cliffs and moved into the lighthouse with the Prince. He took to crafting his pottery goods and selling them and his goods were of such quality that he had more requests to fill than time to do them in. However, he ne'er made another chamber pot for anyone but the Prince, who for some reason, frequently broke his chamber pots and insisted on being re-measured.
Liege King Albus at Castle Hogwarts was said to have married Lady Witch Sybill the Seer after he'd lost his mind from the heat and eating too many sherbet lemons one day... but that is another story and one not told here.
I really enjoyed this fic! Full of laugh-out-loud moments, and little snorts of laughter. I loved how innocent Snape was, and Harry, so unable to resist him. Fabulous, Odogoddess, thank you!
That reminds me, I owe you a comment on another fic, I'm sure. I hate it when Firefox crashes and I lose all my tabs, but I shall track it down again. :)
Thank you for the feedback. :) No worries on the other, whatever it might have been. I sympathize re: crashes. Until I did a triple spyware sytem sweep, I had no idea what was not only slowing down the computer, but also making the browsers glitchy. Only one program won't catch them all.
LOL. Oh, dear. I *did* write another hair-sex fic, from a prompt from subliculus and for my lifepartner, chazpure. It's a Snupin and it's here:
Thank you, I'm glad you found it worth the wait.