I wrote this for the rwhg_ldws on LJ. The prompt was: "Tents are not the most comfortable of places." Please be kind and leave a review - they make me so happy (and it's polite!).
I don't care how posh this tent is compared to the Muggle ones Harry described, the truth is tents are not the most comfortable of places. 'Specially when sharing one with seven other blokes, and definitely not when you've barely fallen asleep only to be woken up by a large damp spot on your bunk and in your pants.
I've had this happen before, I'm fourteen after all. I've just never had a dream that featured my best mate before - and I'm not referring to Harry.
I remember laughing to myself as I was falling asleep, thinking about Hermione's reaction to that nutter who didn't want to wear Muggle trousers. Suddenly I'm imagining Hermione standing there, looking different - prettier somehow - asking me if I'd like feeling a breeze 'round my privates. Then this 'dream Hermione' lifts up my robes and ... well, one thing led to another, ... which led to my current problem.
It's downright barmy that I'd have these thoughts about Hermione, she's not even a proper girl. I mean, I know she's a girl (she sleeps in the girls' dorm and all); she's just not like those girls in the magazines Fred and George hide under their mattresses, all soft and squishy looking. Thinking about it though, Hermione was pretty soft when she hugged me last year while bawling about Buckbeak; she smelled really good too. And she definitely looks like she'd be squishier this year.
Damn! I can't think like that now - I've gotta get this mess cleaned up before Fred or George find out. What I am gonna do? This isn't like school where I just wave my wand and clean the stains from my sheets. Not that I'd be 'scourgifying' my privates, even if I could. At home Mum makes sure all us boys have spare sheets in our rooms (one of the benefits of having five older brothers, Mum understands these things and doesn't make a fuss).
Extra sheets - of course! There must be some around this tent somewhere. I'll just check in this cupboard here-
"Ron? Is that you?"
Shit! Who's that? "Charlie?"
"Yea Ronnie ... what's up?"
"Nothing."
"You sure? Looks like you've got yourself a spot of, er, bother," he says, pointing at my crotch.
"Um ... uh ..."
With a wave of his wand my pajamas are clean; he sends a Tergeo towards my bunk too.
"Er, uh ... thanks." I stammer, my ears burning.
"No problem. Nothing to worry about, perfectly normal."
"Yea, well, okay ... 'night then." I wanna crawl into my bunk and die, only Charlie's giving me this funny look.
"Um ... is there anything else?"
"No, ... just ... your friend, Hermione, ... she seems like a lovely girl."
Where the hell did that come from? And why is Charlie checking out Hermione?
"Um, yea ... I g-guess so."
"Like you hadn't noticed," he scoffs.
"Wh-why do you say that?"
"Because, little brother," he claps my shoulder, "you talk in your sleep," laughing as he heads off to bed.
Bugger!