Title: Winky helps

A/N: Harry stays in the dorm, sick, and Winky lends a hand. I figure that she deserves some M fan-fic.

Harry was staying in the dorm for the day, since he had eaten one of the twin's skiving snack packs, and the other end was taking longer than he expected to work. After a short nap in the fifth-year dorms, he started to feel a bit better and a little bored; the rest of his classmates were suffering through Defense Against the Dark Arts with Ms. Umbrage. He would have still been in there if he hadn't covered the professor's favorite pink sweater with both vomit and blood from his nose; it seemed that the twins needed to fine tune the dosages a bit. Harry told himself that he wasn't aiming for her, but even he had trouble believing that.

This was his double Potions double DADA day, so he didn't want to be seen up and around. Since he had the dorm to himself, he poked around his dorm-mates trunks and checked under their mattresses for something to amuse him so the time would go faster. He first checked Ron's trunk, as he had shown Harry a Playwizard magazine. Harry had grown up with Muggles, and seeing pictures that move was still a novel experience for him. Playwizard, however, made some attempt to be 'tasteful'; it was akin to watching late night movie on cable—it implied a great deal but didn't show the good stuff, as it were. Harry had never had the good stuff, of course, but he knew what it looked like. Unfortunately his musings were moot, since he found only that his best friend was a bit of a slob and didn't clean his boxer shorts often enough. The Playwizard must have been the twins', and Harry was not enough of a fool to try to break into their chests.

The search of his three other roommates' belongings gifted Harry with the knowledge that Seamus enjoyed Victoria's Secret. It was stuffed under the mattress and looked like it had been through the wringer a time or two, Harry mused. Whether it was for the lingerie or the women, he couldn't tell. He made the discovery under Dean's mattress that Dean liked penises, as there was a glossy magazine full of just those. Faintly disturbed, Harry muttered to himself, "I wish I hadn't poked around. I guess that's why it's not a good idea to snoop. Oh well, I guess I'm going to have to draw from the spank-bank." Harry walked to the door and cracked it a little, listening for anyone else in the tower. It was as quiet as a grave. Harry was pleased, as in general any 'evening meditations' were generally a furtive and rushed affair.

He debated whether to take a shower or do it in the comfort of his own bed; he figured he had two hours, easy, before his classmates might stop by for lunch. There was a problem, though: his 'wand hand' had a very painful scab in the shape of "I will not tell lies" on the back of it, which made it difficult for him to 'crank one out'. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, he thought. He reached into his bedside table and got some cold-cream and a handkerchief that he had got as a Christmas gift. It wouldn't do to leave anything on the sheets. Harry drew the red curtains to his bed and stripped off his robes, his t-shirt and dungarees. Lying back against the headboard, he closed his eyes and searched through his memories for a good starting point for a nice fantasy.

"Hm, Ginny? She had been filling out nicely and she rode a broom very well. I wonder if she has freckles all over? If Ron is any indication, the carpet would match the drapes. Judging from what Dean's face looked like, she seemed to be pretty good with her mouth, too. Harry stopped, because it didn't seem right to be tossing one off to his best friend's sister. Okay, let's see, Hermione has great tits and Ihe haved copped a peek or two and I had also seen them on display at last year's Yule Ball. Nah, that was even weirder than Ginny. Cho, she was nice, and pretty, I getot the feeling that she wanted to go with me last year. Good, Cho, I have her in my mind's eye."

He started thinking about her walking past him, her high breasts swaying with her movement; she looks at him and smiles. He catches a whiff of her in passing, she smells like ginger and vanilla. As she walks past, he surreptitiously looks at her backside switch from side to side. While the fantasy is warming up, he started to feel a stirring in his loins and slid his right hand into his boxers to readjust himself. He lightly stroked the underside of his penis, feeling it stiffen under his touch. His fantasy progressed and Cho walks past wearing nothing at all, and then from the top it begins again. Both of them are elsewhere and they are both naked; he feels the soft texture of her skin and the heat of her body. Harry is fully erect and tried to start stroking, but a sharp twinge on the back of his right hand kept him from getting his preferred grip on himself.

I It's not enough, it was just enough to tantalize but not quite sufficient to satisfy. He switched to his left hand, trying to emulate what he did with his right, which now felt cramped and awkward. He couldn't get the proper rhythm, either. He was rummaging around in his mind for the thought to push him over the edge. Cho, naked under him, on top of him, Cho kissing Ginny, a three-way. Flashes of girls go through his head; Daphne, Hermione, Ginny, Fleur: all naked. He was so close, and then his left arm cramped up! He was mad—he was so close. He attempted to hump his own hand in frustration. He muttered to himself, "This would be so much easier with some help."

Harry heard a pop and then a highdifident, squeaky voice right next to him said, "Does Master Harry wants Winky's help?"

Harry lurched off his bed and covered himself as a blush bloomed over his face. Winky was a house-elf, about two and half feet tall with large, bulbous eyes and bat-like ears. She was one of only two 'Clothed Elves' in all of the United KingdomEngland, as far as Harry knew. Her former master had presented her with clothes, thereby freeing her; Dumbledore took her in as part of the staff. "What are you doing here, Winky?"

" Miss Granger put clothes as gifts all throughout Gryffindor tower, so it is only Dobby and Winky that cleans the tower now. Would Dobby's kind master like some help?"

"Um, no, Winky, I don't need any help, thanks."

"But I heard you say that you wanted help. Is it because Winky is free, so she is not worthy to serve the great Harry Potter?" Winky reached for Harry's alarm clock and started hitting herself with it, causing a loud clanging sound to echo off the walls.

"No, Winky, that's not it at all. I was just having a problem of a personal nature and was talking to myself. I'm sorry to bother you."

Winky let the alarm clock be pried from her grip. Winky's eyes moved towards Harry's covered bulge and said, "Please let me assist you. Winky is very good at assisting with that."

Harry's thoughts and feelings of embarrassment came to a grinding halt at the implications of her statement. "Wait, Winky, are you telling me that your former master, Mr. Crouch, had you do those sorts of things, too?" Harry thought about what Hermione's reaction that piece of information would be.

"No, I would help with Master Crouch Jr.; it would help the young master relax. Winky is always there to serve Winky's family!"

Pure blood families are weird, thought Harry. "Is that common for house-elves to do, ah, that sort of thing?" Winky looked like she was about to start hitting herself with something again, so Harry said, "Forget I asked!" He shook his head.

"So, Winky, can help you with that?"

"Um, no, Winky, I would prefer if I did it myself."

Winky started to cry and said, "Winky just wants to help, I see females do this for men everyday, is Winky not pretty? Doesn't the young master think that Winky will do a good job?"

Harry looked her over. Her large eyes were getting puffy from crying, and her round nose was getting redder by the moment. She wore a soiled blue blouse with a matching skirt and hat. He reached for her to give her a hug, and told her that she was pretty, and that he knew that she would do a great job. As he got close to her, he found that her outfit smelled like booze and smoke. "Winky, your clothes smell horrible. Do you have to wear them?"

Winky looked at Harry with shock and removed her outfit. "What shall I do with them?" she asked.

Harry looked at them, and judging them a total loss, said, "You can never get those clean again. You'll have to burn them."

Winky looked at Harry with delight, and the outfit disappeared with a pop. Harry looked at her and found that under her outfit she looked like a woman, only a lot smaller. Winky pressed herself against his chest, and with surprising strength pushed Harry back against the headboard again.

With the first smile Harry had ever seen on her face, she said, "Winky thinks that Master Potter should close his eyes while his Winky gives him a hand."