Harry the Potter &
The Good Prince Severus the Pouty
by
Written for hp_fairytales
Pairings: SS/HP
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: approximately 4,350
Beta: bethbethbeth
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. ;)
Summary: The long captive good Prince Severus the Pouty finds handsome
young Harry the Potter a most charming visitor...
Author's Notes: This one is for my sweetie
because I love to hear her laugh.
Disclaimer:
The characters are JK Rowlings.
The situations they're in are the author's.
No copyright infringment intended, no money 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?"
"Twice?"
"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."
"Aye."
"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!"
"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.
"Like this?"
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 gently 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!"
Harry frowned.
"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 it's 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."
"What beast?"
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."
"Pray continue."
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?"
"Oh, aye."
"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.
~FINIS~
Posted: 12 September 2006 to hp_fairytales