fics_by_maple | (no subject)

This is

cyclonejuliet's fault. She left me this comment when I wrote about the use of cleaning spells in fic;
"Silencing charms, cleaning charms and the old contraceptive charms.
Imagines Flitwick teaching a group of Gryffindors these charms...hmm, might be a fic in there somewhere."
But the stupidity is all mine. Unbetaed because it's just not worth it. *ducks rotten vegetables*
Title: Salad Cream
Rating: NC-17

~^~

The seventh year Gryffindor boys were gathered at a round table in a spare classroom.

“Good afternoon, seventh years." They heard a familiar voice from somewhere around their knees. “Welcome to Health and Intimacy Charms for the of-age Wizard.”

“Professor Flitwick?” Harry asked, as the small man stepped up onto a stack of books and then onto a stool at the front of the room.

“But you’re not supposed to teach this class, sir,” Ron said.

All five young men gaped at the tiny man. They’d all been looking forward to this class for years.

“The Headmaster has asked me to teach the session this year,” he answered.

“No way! Not on! I bin waitin’ since me third year for this class!” Seamus protested, his brogue becoming muddled with his vigor. “And I know Professor Sinistra is supposed to be teh one teachin’ it,”

“I am sorry about your disappointment, Mr. Finnigan,” Professor Flitwick chirped. “But it has been decided that a less, inspiring teacher should teach these lessons. So, I’m afraid you get to have me.”

They all looked at each other with controlled smiles. Having Flitwick was nowhere near as fun as having Sinistra would have been.

Seamus continued muttering his outrage under his breath.

“The syllabus says we are to begin with Silencing Charms as a courtesy to others, but I suspect it’s not necessary.” The professor looked expectantly at the blushing young men. “I’ve not met a student wizard over fourth year who wasn’t perfectly capable of achieving an acceptable perimeter with a Silencing Charm.”

They were all chewing their cheeks not to comment on the regular use of Silencing Spells in the doom on their four-poster bed curtains.

“No, sir, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Neville said, fidgeting and looking at his feet.

But Seamus whispered, “’cept when Weasley forgets to cast one on Harry’s bed when he climbs in.”

Harry and Ron glared at Seamus while Dean clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Before we move on to the more complicated spells, we’ll start with a simple Cleaning Charm then. Very useful,” Flitwick announced.

“Cleaning charm?” Ron looked crestfallen.

“My Gran already taught me those,” Neville whined quietly.

“Focus now, gentleman. Your standard Tergeo can make a bigger mess if you aren’t careful and a Scourgify can really smart the more delicate bits.”

Harry bit his lip.

“Don’t tell me Flitwick just said ‘bits’,” Ron muttered, shaking his head.

Harry snorted.

“As long as he doesn’t say ‘dick,’ I’ll be happy.”

“You guys!” hissed Neville.

“We’re not saying you can’t say ‘dick’, Neville. Go on if you want.”

“Ugh,” Neville huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Now you’ll need a little something to begin our lesson with,” Flitwick said. He swooshed his wand and a glop of whitish goo appeared on the table in front of each boy.

“Eagh!” Seamus shouted jumping back from his table.

“Gross, Neville! I thought you said you knew the Cleaning Charms,” Dean teased.

“Very funny,” he muttered.

“Alright, now. It’s just a bit a everyday salad cream from the kitchen,” Flitwick answered. “I think it’s a good likeness, no?”

No one seemed to want to acknowledge the Professor’s comment.

“I don’t want to think about how he knows what salad cream has a likeness to,” Ron grumbled.

“Good likeness, eh?” Seamus said, swiping his fingertip through the dollop on the table. “Heya Harry, want to taste my salad cream?” He flicked his tongue suggestively.

“No thanks, Finnigan. I can think of better things to stick my tongue in,” Harry answered.

“What, you prefer Ron’s cream?” Dean asked. He and Seamus elbowed each other and laughed quietly.

Ron was poking his glop of cream with the tip of his wand. “I don’t know. This is an awful lot. I’m not sure I’d ever need to clean up this much salad cream.”

“Boys, you should be able to do this without speaking the spell. Now you want to think Tergeo and give your wand a swirl-and-a-swish,” Professor Flitwick gestured flamboyantly with his wrist.

“A little swish?” Neville asked.

The boys all spluttered.

“It’s not polite to call the teacher names, Neville,” Harry whispered.

“What? Oh, leave off! I didn’t mean that,” Neville hissed.

“If I give me wand too much ‘swirl and swish’ I’ll have more salad cream to clean up,” Seamus sighed.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Dean responded. “You already ‘swirled’ once this morning, didn’t you?”

Neville ‘swirl and swished’ his salad cream away on the first try.

“Well done, Mr. Longbottom.”

“Yeah, well, Nev’s had a lot of practice cleaning up unwanted salad cream spills eh?”

Harry turned to watch Seamus and Dean’s progress. Ron attempted his cleaning charm but instead of banishing his salad cream, it spattered all over Harry’s back.

The seventh years erupted with laughter.

“Thanks a lot, Ron,” Harry growled. “It’s even in my hair!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Ah, come on Potter, you tellin’ me Weasley’s never coated your back with salad cream before.”

Ron laughed, but Neville looked mortified. “You guys, that’s disgusting.”

“What’s disgusting, Nev?” Dean asked. “Ron spattering his cream, or spattering it on Harry’s back?”

“So childish,” Neville said, rolling his eyes.

“All right, that’s a bit too much ‘swish’ out of you, Mr. Weasley,” Flitwick noted.

The boys chuckled and Ron turned red.

After cleaning the cream off of Harry, Flitwick continued. “Come lads, you can do this. You all know how to Tergeo and do some wordless magic, so we just put them together. A little mess only requires a little cleaning.”

Shortly they each managed a perfect, wordless cleaning spell after only a few tries. Except for Dean who always seemed to have a tiny bit of residue left behind.

“Fuck it,” he grumbled. “Nothing wrong with the Muggle way.” And he wiped the last bit away with his sleeve.

“Remind me never to borrow one of your jumpers, mate,” Seamus said, crinkling his nose, giving Dean’s dirtied sleeve a shove.

“Wonderful, boys! Next, we’ll move on to conjuring lubrication,” Flitwich said casually.

This brought another round of tittering.

“What’d we need lubrication for?” Ron asked.

“Ah, Weasley,” Seamus said, leaning close. “Don’t tell me yeh make Potter suffer without proper lube, now?”

Dean and even Neville guffawed.

“Why’s it always him fucking me, Seamus?” Harry demanded

“Well that’s between the two of you to work out, Harry.”

“Oh - ha, fucking, ha.”

“Now a good lubrication is clear and odorless and just a tad thicker than water. You don’t want clumps,” Professor Flitwick said.

“Okay, but seriously, if you’re not a poofter, whaddya need lubrication for?” Ron asked again.

Harry, Dean and Seamus all shrugged.

“Honestly, don’t you guys ever read?” Neville asked.

The four looked at Neville with wide eyes.

“You been reading 101 Uses For Lubrication, Nev?” Dean asked.

“Some of us have to do a little research. We don’t get to find out what is or is not, self-lubricating in the middle of the common room.” Neville snapped.

They all boggled at Neville and then looked at Ron.

“What?”

“I think Neville just called you out with the Lavender thing,” Harry grinned.

“The word is Lubricatus and you just want to fill your palm with a small amount,” the Professor instructed.

They all held out their palms and spoke the incantation.

Neville got it right on their first try.

“Damn, Neville, you’ve been holding out on us. You gotta let us see those books of yours,” Ron said.

“Why, so you can take the Mickey out of me? No thanks,” Neville said, cleaning his lube away.

“Feckin’ hell! I can’t stop it!” Seamus shouted. A steady stream of clear gel was streaming out of the tip of his wand and onto the table.

Everyone laughed and Dean had to jump out of the way of the pond of lubricant spilling over.

“All right Mr. Finnigan, no need for the language,” Professor Flitwick chided, stopping the flow with a Finite spell. “I suppose one can never have too much lubrication, after all.”

“Don’t even want to know …” Ron muttered.

“Let’s all try again. Lubricatus!”

Harry was the next to achieve a perfect amount of congealed fluid in his hand.

“See there, Harry. You’ll have to show your boy Ron how to do that so he won’t go at yeh without lube anymore.”

Harry threw his handful of lube at Seamus who ducked and it hit Dean squarely in the chest with a dull squelch.

“Oi – come on, man!”

“Sorry, Dean,” Harry apologized. “I was aiming for Seamus’ face.”

“Yeah? Seamus doesn’t like it in the face,” he said smartly.

“Hey!”

“LuBRIcaTUS!” Ron shouted enthusiastically, and a bucket’s worth of lube exploded from his wand, hitting Professor Flitwick and knocking him off his stool.

“Oh bloody hell, Professor. I’m sorry!” Ron shouted. The other boys were breathless with laughter.

“Here, let me help you,” Ron said, assisting the tiny, elderly wizard back to his feet.

“Yes, well. No harm, done,” he said cheerfully, cleaning himself off with a swirl and a swish. “Though perhaps you have demonstrated the possibility of too much lubrication.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Way to go, Ron,” Neville sniggered, seeming pleased to be better than Ron at something.

“Shut up, you lot!” He jaw clenched and the back of his neck and ears burned scarlet.

Each wizard quickly in turn mastered the ability of conjure a handful of lubricant, which soon resulted in each of the boys emitting blasts of lube at each other.

“Enough of that now. If you’ll please put on the protective aprons I’ve passed out, we’ll move on to the Contraception Spell.”

They each picked up the thin aprons, looking a bit confused.

“What’s it for, Professor?”

“Well, we’ve already seen a simple Lubricatus go wrong, we wouldn’t want a Contraception Spell to go badly and sterilize anyone.”

“But, sir, you’re not wearing an apron,” Neville pointed out.

“Yes, well, exactly.”

Their eyes went wide and they each quickly tied on their aprons.

Except for Dean.

“Excuse me, I’m going to need a bigger apron,” he said, only loudly enough for the other boys to hear.

“In your dreams, Thomas,” Seamus chided.

“You know it’s true, Seamus. Your little Irish prick is just jealous,” he said mildly.

Seamus scoffed.

“I got no reason to be jealous of yer Hippogrytitus balls, yeh freak of nature,” Seamus retorted, but Dean seemed pleased.

“I think I’ve got this one down. I know contraception charms,” Ron said.

“You stupid shirt lifter. You don’t need contraception if your cock’s up Harry’s arse,” Seamus said.

“You’re so wrong, Seamus,” Harry grumbled.

“I am not. Has Weasley convinced yeh he’s so potent he’d get yeh knocked up?”

“Little twat.”

Seamus grinned and seemed satisfied to peak Harry’s annoyance.

“Gentleman, this is vital now. I’m sure I needn’t explain to you at your age the ramifications of a poorly performed Contraception Spell.”

“I wonder who’ll become a dad first?” Neville asked quietly.

“Ron,” the other four said in unison.

~^~
Abrupt ending. I apologize for the ridiculous.