Alesco
Chapter Four--Songs and Screams
*
Ron woke the next morning, earlier than he would have liked. Pulling back his curtains, he noticed with alarm that Harry was already gone. That's the third time this week, Ron thought. I wonder if he'll be like this all year.
Ron rubbed his eyes, hating the memory of his tainted dreams. Last year, before leaving Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore secretly told him the brain that had attacked him had special powers...powers which may have been transferred to him. He also told Ron that if he had any strange thoughts or nightmares, to inform him immediately.
In secret, Ron and his parents had been in contact with Dumbledore all summer. Ron had many terrible nightmares. Dumbledore and other Ministry officials were trying to sort out what type of brain had attacked Ron, but Ron didn't know how successful they had been. There were many brains in the tank, and Ron had the feeling from what he'd learned that each one had a different purpose.
As time went on, sleep only became worse. Ron had to cast a silencing charm around his bed every night, now that he was at school. At home, his mum had done it for him, but she had, at times, forgotten.
The dreams were the most terrifying he'd ever had...even worse than the ones with the spiders. Either he heard bloodcurdling screams, or intense, enchanting singing. It was either one, or the other, or both at once.
He had promised not to tell anyone; he wasn't even sure he wanted to.
He feared he was going mad.
As if that wasn't his only problem, they now had this crazy--and rather hypnotizing--new DADA teacher.
There was also the fact that one look or touch from Hermione made him go hard in two seconds flat. Well, the Hermione thing wasn't new, but he had to admit it was more awkward this year...and so much more intense.
Gods, I am such a sick, randy git....
He put his head in his hands, and then mechanically got up to take a shower. His arousal was growing again...with a vengeance.
Putting his burning face under the cold water, he sighed and secretly thanked Hermione for making him get up early enough for this shower, without the company of any other dorm mate.
Soaping himself thoroughly, he wondered about that day when he swore at her. When Hermione sat there, saying that Viktor was engaged to another girl, Ron had felt heat pool to his groin. He hadn't even been prepared.
Then she started yelling at him. It didn't even phase the huge lump of desire growing in his jeans; if anything, it had grown bigger. So, instead of allowing himself to indulge in the release he would have liked, he'd shouted at her. He'd said something foul, and ran to his room. He shut his door, locked it, and without thinking, pulled open his jeans....
He could have taken a long, cold shower. No, that wasn't what he'd wanted, what he needed. He would never have her. He wanted Hermione. He needed to feel...
When he shouted her name into his pillow, exalting in his stunning release, he'd heard someone gasp on the other side of the door. Oh shit, he thought, as he pulled up his jeans and slid off the bed, landing loudly on jelly legs. Before he opened the door he heard soft rustling, and when he looked out the hall, he saw a flash of brown bushy hair....in retreat.
"Oh bloody fucking hell...." Ron repeated the same words he'd uttered that day, when he saw her hair and then closed his door. He thought...maybe she hadn't heard. Maybe she didn't know....
In the following weeks, he realized she did know. She could not look him in the eye or talk to him. It was the longest they had ever not spoken to one another.
Ron softly tapped his forehead repeatedly on the bathroom shower tile. He knew that day, before they left for Hogwarts, she'd been trying to tell him what she'd heard. His apology worked to change the topic, before there was a disaster. He couldn't bear to hear Hermione tell him how flattered she was, but that they'd never work out.
Then, he'd gotten all fired up when they sat next to each other on the train. He had to keep shoving down his jumper to make sure nobody noticed. And, of course, they'd had another row.
That's what always happens when I'm hot for her....Ron thought desperately.
What was worse, they were now going to Professor McGonagall's office--together. Ron only hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself--in front of them both.
~*~
Ron was five minutes late when he met Hermione in the common room. Hermione had made good use of her time, apparently, since she had a half-full parchment sheet in front of her, and several books on the table beside her. When she saw Ron, she had packed with lightning speed by the time he'd made it over to her.
She began to complain about how important this was, and that she couldn't believe he'd been late. They were in the hallway outside the portrait hole before she said they'd better go to breakfast after they talked to Professor McGonagall, because he'd been so late. Ron simply shrugged. The following silence was very noticeable, as there were very few students in the hallway. Many were prefects, too, and they greeted Ron and Hermione in recognition. Ron hated to admit it, but he did appreciate the fact that not only did his own class know him, but many younger students knew him, both from being a prefect and being Quidditch house Keeper.
Ron noticed that Hermione was slowing, and he thought with his long legs he might be too fast for her. He looked back at her.
She seemed very worried. A second later, she said, "Ron, you're awfully pale this morning. Are you getting enough sleep?"
Ron stopped, right at the bottom of Professor McGonagall's stairway, still looking at Hermione.
Hermione walked up to him, as he stared at her. She laid a hand on his upper arm.
Uh-oh, here we go...Ron thought, as he swallowed. This will never do...
His body tensed as he tried to stop his body's natural reaction. Maybe if I say something rude, he thought, she'll let me go...
"What makes you think I'm not getting enough sleep?" Ron growled, and backed away.
Hermione pulled her hand back. Phew! Just in time!
"When is it a crime to be concerned about a good friend? After all, that's why we're here." Hermione stated angrily.
Ron rolled his eyes. Darn and blast...the "good friend" bit. That's all they'd ever be. At least they had that. But how long could he live like this?
"Fine. Let's go up there and tell Professor McGonagall." Ron said sharply, and walked up two flights of stairs concealed behind an enormous pillar. The Professor's quarters were at the top of a tiny tower on the same floor as the Gryffindor common room. Ron heard the sound of Hermione's light footsteps follow him up after a few moments.
At the side of the door to the Professor's quarters stood a shiny golden lion. Only the Professor, Headmaster, and Gryffindor prefects knew the password that would cause the lion to open the latch on the door. Ron didn't utter it now. Instead, he took the large round door knocker and released it. It automatically knocked for him three times.
It only took Ron to breathe to know that Hermione was standing behind him very closely, in order to fit onto the landing of the stairway. Her soft, clean scent drifted over him. It reminded him of fresh laundry. Before he could let his thoughts wander, the door opened and Professor McGonagall let them in. She closed the door behind them.
"I was informed by Miss Granger that you both wished to visit with me." She said, holding up a small piece of parchment. "I believe it was your cat that delivered it to my door early this morning?" The professor nodded toward Hermione.
"Yes, it was. Thank you for seeing us at such short notice." Hermione nodded in turn and smiled. Ron clenched his fists...damn her elusive, totally effective smile...
Ron turned back to the Professor, and her eyes were twinkling. Before he could study her any longer, she turned to her rather tiny sitting room and the small, utilitarian desk next to it. He had visited this room only a couple times previously for prefect meetings, and knew the closed door behind it lead to a bed and bathroom.
"Please, sit down. Would you like a biscuit?"
They both took one, and Hermione shuffled around in her chair for a moment as Professor McGonagall sat down. Hermione nibbled on her cookie for a moment, and then she started asking about any number of things--finally, after the pleasantries were over, (and Ron was beginning to feel drowsy) Hermione nudged him.
Sitting up straighter, he gave her a narrow look. She gave him a glare and then turned to McGonagall.
"As you are aware, Professor, yesterday I spoke with you regarding the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Hermione said hesitatingly.
"Yes. I informed you at the time that the staff have full confidence in her."
"I understand, Professor. It's just that...the quill she gave Ron was a sugar quill. I thought maybe you would want to check it out...and make sure it was okay." She swallowed, pulled the quill from her pocket, and handed it to Professor McGonagall.
As the Professor took the quill, she said, "As you wish, Miss Granger." She placed the quill carefully on her desk. Then she said, rather confidently, "Though I can tell you the result before we even start. Mr Weasley isn't being poisoned."
"But, Professor...." Hermione leaned forward in her chair, as the Professor put her hand up for silence. "Miss Granger..."
Hermione's face fell, and she sat back in her chair.
"I said that we would test the quill; only to prove to you that there is no reason to fear. I must reiterate to you both...Headmaster Dumbledore has his reasons for hiring Professor Forester; and I fully support him." At that moment, she gave Ron a long look. It was a look of reassurance. Ron was stunned, but he nodded. What could it mean?
Ron realized that Hermione had noticed the exchange. He could tell that she was (for the moment) pacified.
After they left Professor McGonagall's quarters, they headed for the Great Hall. Ron was walking across the entrance hall, near the front door, when someone burst in from outside. Whoever it was nearly ran into Ron.
"Hey, watch it!" Ron shouted, before realizing it was Harry. "Oy, mate, what were you doing outside?"
"Sorry, Ron." Harry said breathlessly. "I was afraid I'd miss breakfast." He tugged his book bag over his shoulder.
"Don't tell us you've been practicing Quidditch this early." Hermione snorted.
Ron swung around to her. "He doesn't have his broom."
"Oh." Hermione said nonchalantly, and shrugged. "What were you doing, then, Harry?"
"Meditating." Harry replied sarcastically, turned, and strode into the Great Hall.
Ron and Hermione gave each other puzzled looks and rushed after Harry.
Chapter Four--Songs and Screams
*
Ron woke the next morning, earlier than he would have liked. Pulling back his curtains, he noticed with alarm that Harry was already gone. That's the third time this week, Ron thought. I wonder if he'll be like this all year.
Ron rubbed his eyes, hating the memory of his tainted dreams. Last year, before leaving Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore secretly told him the brain that had attacked him had special powers...powers which may have been transferred to him. He also told Ron that if he had any strange thoughts or nightmares, to inform him immediately.
In secret, Ron and his parents had been in contact with Dumbledore all summer. Ron had many terrible nightmares. Dumbledore and other Ministry officials were trying to sort out what type of brain had attacked Ron, but Ron didn't know how successful they had been. There were many brains in the tank, and Ron had the feeling from what he'd learned that each one had a different purpose.
As time went on, sleep only became worse. Ron had to cast a silencing charm around his bed every night, now that he was at school. At home, his mum had done it for him, but she had, at times, forgotten.
The dreams were the most terrifying he'd ever had...even worse than the ones with the spiders. Either he heard bloodcurdling screams, or intense, enchanting singing. It was either one, or the other, or both at once.
He had promised not to tell anyone; he wasn't even sure he wanted to.
He feared he was going mad.
As if that wasn't his only problem, they now had this crazy--and rather hypnotizing--new DADA teacher.
There was also the fact that one look or touch from Hermione made him go hard in two seconds flat. Well, the Hermione thing wasn't new, but he had to admit it was more awkward this year...and so much more intense.
Gods, I am such a sick, randy git....
He put his head in his hands, and then mechanically got up to take a shower. His arousal was growing again...with a vengeance.
Putting his burning face under the cold water, he sighed and secretly thanked Hermione for making him get up early enough for this shower, without the company of any other dorm mate.
Soaping himself thoroughly, he wondered about that day when he swore at her. When Hermione sat there, saying that Viktor was engaged to another girl, Ron had felt heat pool to his groin. He hadn't even been prepared.
Then she started yelling at him. It didn't even phase the huge lump of desire growing in his jeans; if anything, it had grown bigger. So, instead of allowing himself to indulge in the release he would have liked, he'd shouted at her. He'd said something foul, and ran to his room. He shut his door, locked it, and without thinking, pulled open his jeans....
He could have taken a long, cold shower. No, that wasn't what he'd wanted, what he needed. He would never have her. He wanted Hermione. He needed to feel...
When he shouted her name into his pillow, exalting in his stunning release, he'd heard someone gasp on the other side of the door. Oh shit, he thought, as he pulled up his jeans and slid off the bed, landing loudly on jelly legs. Before he opened the door he heard soft rustling, and when he looked out the hall, he saw a flash of brown bushy hair....in retreat.
"Oh bloody fucking hell...." Ron repeated the same words he'd uttered that day, when he saw her hair and then closed his door. He thought...maybe she hadn't heard. Maybe she didn't know....
In the following weeks, he realized she did know. She could not look him in the eye or talk to him. It was the longest they had ever not spoken to one another.
Ron softly tapped his forehead repeatedly on the bathroom shower tile. He knew that day, before they left for Hogwarts, she'd been trying to tell him what she'd heard. His apology worked to change the topic, before there was a disaster. He couldn't bear to hear Hermione tell him how flattered she was, but that they'd never work out.
Then, he'd gotten all fired up when they sat next to each other on the train. He had to keep shoving down his jumper to make sure nobody noticed. And, of course, they'd had another row.
That's what always happens when I'm hot for her....Ron thought desperately.
What was worse, they were now going to Professor McGonagall's office--together. Ron only hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself--in front of them both.
~*~
Ron was five minutes late when he met Hermione in the common room. Hermione had made good use of her time, apparently, since she had a half-full parchment sheet in front of her, and several books on the table beside her. When she saw Ron, she had packed with lightning speed by the time he'd made it over to her.
She began to complain about how important this was, and that she couldn't believe he'd been late. They were in the hallway outside the portrait hole before she said they'd better go to breakfast after they talked to Professor McGonagall, because he'd been so late. Ron simply shrugged. The following silence was very noticeable, as there were very few students in the hallway. Many were prefects, too, and they greeted Ron and Hermione in recognition. Ron hated to admit it, but he did appreciate the fact that not only did his own class know him, but many younger students knew him, both from being a prefect and being Quidditch house Keeper.
Ron noticed that Hermione was slowing, and he thought with his long legs he might be too fast for her. He looked back at her.
She seemed very worried. A second later, she said, "Ron, you're awfully pale this morning. Are you getting enough sleep?"
Ron stopped, right at the bottom of Professor McGonagall's stairway, still looking at Hermione.
Hermione walked up to him, as he stared at her. She laid a hand on his upper arm.
Uh-oh, here we go...Ron thought, as he swallowed. This will never do...
His body tensed as he tried to stop his body's natural reaction. Maybe if I say something rude, he thought, she'll let me go...
"What makes you think I'm not getting enough sleep?" Ron growled, and backed away.
Hermione pulled her hand back. Phew! Just in time!
"When is it a crime to be concerned about a good friend? After all, that's why we're here." Hermione stated angrily.
Ron rolled his eyes. Darn and blast...the "good friend" bit. That's all they'd ever be. At least they had that. But how long could he live like this?
"Fine. Let's go up there and tell Professor McGonagall." Ron said sharply, and walked up two flights of stairs concealed behind an enormous pillar. The Professor's quarters were at the top of a tiny tower on the same floor as the Gryffindor common room. Ron heard the sound of Hermione's light footsteps follow him up after a few moments.
At the side of the door to the Professor's quarters stood a shiny golden lion. Only the Professor, Headmaster, and Gryffindor prefects knew the password that would cause the lion to open the latch on the door. Ron didn't utter it now. Instead, he took the large round door knocker and released it. It automatically knocked for him three times.
It only took Ron to breathe to know that Hermione was standing behind him very closely, in order to fit onto the landing of the stairway. Her soft, clean scent drifted over him. It reminded him of fresh laundry. Before he could let his thoughts wander, the door opened and Professor McGonagall let them in. She closed the door behind them.
"I was informed by Miss Granger that you both wished to visit with me." She said, holding up a small piece of parchment. "I believe it was your cat that delivered it to my door early this morning?" The professor nodded toward Hermione.
"Yes, it was. Thank you for seeing us at such short notice." Hermione nodded in turn and smiled. Ron clenched his fists...damn her elusive, totally effective smile...
Ron turned back to the Professor, and her eyes were twinkling. Before he could study her any longer, she turned to her rather tiny sitting room and the small, utilitarian desk next to it. He had visited this room only a couple times previously for prefect meetings, and knew the closed door behind it lead to a bed and bathroom.
"Please, sit down. Would you like a biscuit?"
They both took one, and Hermione shuffled around in her chair for a moment as Professor McGonagall sat down. Hermione nibbled on her cookie for a moment, and then she started asking about any number of things--finally, after the pleasantries were over, (and Ron was beginning to feel drowsy) Hermione nudged him.
Sitting up straighter, he gave her a narrow look. She gave him a glare and then turned to McGonagall.
"As you are aware, Professor, yesterday I spoke with you regarding the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Hermione said hesitatingly.
"Yes. I informed you at the time that the staff have full confidence in her."
"I understand, Professor. It's just that...the quill she gave Ron was a sugar quill. I thought maybe you would want to check it out...and make sure it was okay." She swallowed, pulled the quill from her pocket, and handed it to Professor McGonagall.
As the Professor took the quill, she said, "As you wish, Miss Granger." She placed the quill carefully on her desk. Then she said, rather confidently, "Though I can tell you the result before we even start. Mr Weasley isn't being poisoned."
"But, Professor...." Hermione leaned forward in her chair, as the Professor put her hand up for silence. "Miss Granger..."
Hermione's face fell, and she sat back in her chair.
"I said that we would test the quill; only to prove to you that there is no reason to fear. I must reiterate to you both...Headmaster Dumbledore has his reasons for hiring Professor Forester; and I fully support him." At that moment, she gave Ron a long look. It was a look of reassurance. Ron was stunned, but he nodded. What could it mean?
Ron realized that Hermione had noticed the exchange. He could tell that she was (for the moment) pacified.
After they left Professor McGonagall's quarters, they headed for the Great Hall. Ron was walking across the entrance hall, near the front door, when someone burst in from outside. Whoever it was nearly ran into Ron.
"Hey, watch it!" Ron shouted, before realizing it was Harry. "Oy, mate, what were you doing outside?"
"Sorry, Ron." Harry said breathlessly. "I was afraid I'd miss breakfast." He tugged his book bag over his shoulder.
"Don't tell us you've been practicing Quidditch this early." Hermione snorted.
Ron swung around to her. "He doesn't have his broom."
"Oh." Hermione said nonchalantly, and shrugged. "What were you doing, then, Harry?"
"Meditating." Harry replied sarcastically, turned, and strode into the Great Hall.
Ron and Hermione gave each other puzzled looks and rushed after Harry.