Training Trout - for empressov - trout/vaseline - PG-13
Title : Training Trout
For : empressov
Pairing : trout/vaseline
Prompt : That trout just couldn't get enough of feeling himself thrust into the squishyness that was the Vaseline jar....
Words : 352
Rating : PG-13


"No," Harry said loudly. "I refuse."

"Your wound isn't healing, Mr Potter," Healer Doublet said. "Your buttock was ripped open, and I promise you that this is a well established treatment."

"The vaseline provides a barrier between your wound and the air," Healer Hose said. "It gives it a chance to heal."

"That bit sounds reasonable enough," Harry muttered. "But why isn't it put on with a cloth, or something? Why does it have to be put on with a fish? They're taking the piss."

"Not just any fish," Healer Hose said sternly. "Many breeds of fish were tried. Flat fish were completely useless; many salt water fish didn't survive. River trout move in just the perfect way to spread the vaseline into every nook and cranny."

"Move?" Harry said, blinking.

"Move."

"It's… alive?"

"Of course it's alive," Healer Hose said. "It is a highly trained animal. Fish and trainer spend hours with that jar of vaseline; just the right amount of petrolatum must be transferred to the trout when it is thrust into the jar; the fish moves against the wound, transferring the jelly and totally covering the raw area. The fish never allows its scales to touch the wound."

"And you are gonna…"

"Oh, not me, Mr Potter," Healer Doublet said, with a regretful shake of the head. "This is a specialist field; I simply don't have the training to plunge such a highly trained animal into the jar."

"On your front, Mr Potter," Healer Hose said cheerfully.

Harry grudgingly turned onto his front and Healer Doublet undid the ties on his gown and removed the dressing, uncovering his gored arse.

The door opened and closed behind him, and Harry dropped his face onto his arms, not wanting to see the trout or the jar of vaseline.

There was a clunk and a splosh as the equipment was put down on a low table, beside his bed.

He blushed as gentle fingers probed his arse, parting his cheeks to check the extent of the damage.

"Don’t you worry," Healer Hose said. "Miss Weasley is the leading specialist in her field!"