Alesco
Chapter Seven--Love is Only a Feeling
*
"The first flush of youth was upon you when our eyes first met
And I knew that to you and into your life I had to get
I felt light-headed at the touch of this stranger's hand
An assault my defenses systematically failed to withstand."
"Love is Only a Feeling" by The Darkness
*
Hermione was in the library...worrying about Ron and his meeting with Professor Forester and Albus Dumbledore. She'd already presumed that it had something to do with what had been happening between Ron and Professor Forester.
In front of her was Wilkin's "Practical Defensive Guide Against Dark Magic, Grade Six." Hermione was happy that Professor Forester had chosen this text for the class, as Wilkins was one of her favorite authors. He'd quickly stepped up and replaced Professor Lockhart as the expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts texts.
In a pile next to her, she had placed several new books about Sirens, and some old ones. She hadn't really read about Sirens since they'd learned about them first in third year. She chewed her lip, and felt excited in knowing what a good teacher the professor was going to be. Hermione had never appreciated books like Newt Scamander's, that were more suited for young children then 13-year-old Hogwart's students.
13-year-old....Hermione smiled. What a year that had been.....
She felt her mind was wandering, so she looked down at her essay and yawned. She'd spent all evening studying, and had kept fighting the drowsiness. Just one more line.
Trying to concentrate on her work, she shoved her quill into her inkwell (using traditional quills kept her more awake than the self-inking ones), and pushed on. She knew she probably should go back to the common room to find out how Ron was, but she'd never get all the work she needed done if she went back now.
After several minutes, the lines on the parchment became blurry.....
....and then, she was sitting behind her desk at home, writing. The room looked precisely as her room had looked when she left it in the summer. A few articles of clothes were peaking out of bottom of the closet, and many books were strewn about on her bedside table. A tall bookcase of her favorite tomes called out to her. Bright sunshine flowed from the window near her canopy bed. She put her quill down, and crossed to the window and looked out. The street below bustled with activity.
It all seemed so familiar, this particular activity. She smiled when she saw Crookshanks outside, climbing up a tree after a squirrel.
To her astonishment, she heard soft breathing behind her. She turned around abruptly to her bed. Then, all at once, everything made perfect sense.
The bed itself was dark, as her heavy canopy shadowed anything lying in the depths of the cushions there. Looking closely, she saw the naked shoulders and head of Ron, lying under rumpled quilts. He was breathing very deeply, a pleased smile on his face. Only tiny dots of light filtered onto him through her canopy of curtains. For some strange reason, they perfectly circled the freckles there.
Hermione dropped onto the bed, and took no time in shedding her outer robes and jumper. Then she lay down next to Ron, softly caressing his naked left arm underneath the quilts. It seemed so real, so comfortable.
She shyly turned to him and kissed his cheek. "You are so beautiful." She whispered to him, and his smile increased. He didn't open his eyes.
Then she pulled down the quilt so she could see his naked chest. She'd seen it once during last summer, so in her mind's eye, it looked more real then it ever had. She groaned.
Running her hands over his youthful chest, she saw his nipples turn to sharp points. She reached over and nibbled at one. This Ron sleepily muttered, "Mmm, Hermione.."
"Yes, my love?" The she moved up to kiss his mouth.
Suddenly, Ron was gone...."No," her mouth uttered. A sharp ache burned through Hermione's body...
Pulling her skirt up roughly, she nearly ripped off her knickers. Expert fingers teased below, and gradually the coiling heat she craved built in her abdomen. She wanted to let it build and build for a more intense release...instead, she let herself fall over the precipice, her body shuddering over and over, her anxious cries echoing in the empty room. An irritated voice was calling for her through her closed bedroom door.
"Miss Granger? Wake up. You're dreaming, Miss Granger!" It became very loud. It was so loud it was right next to her ear.
Hermione opened her eyes and looked up, stunned. She'd fallen asleep. And she had THAT dream again? Now, Madam Pince was holding her shoulder with a gnarled hand, looking very oddly down at her.
"Ah-hem, Madam Pince." Hermione felt her face burn. "I'm so sorry. I must have fallen asleep."
"Quite a dream you must have been having, Miss Granger." Madam Pince said disapprovingly. She tut-tutted. "You've gotten ink all over your face, as well."
"Oh." Hermione took her wand and muttered the cleansing spell, waving her wand toward her face. "Thank you."
"You'd better get going, it's nearly closing time." Madam Pince waggled her eyebrows and pushed up her enormous spectacles. Then she walked back to her check-out desk, busily stacking books and putting things away.
Hermione got up and placed her nearly done essay carefully into her bag, and put the used books onto the take-back pile on her way out of the library. She'd memorized what she needed from the books, so there would be no need to check them out.
Walking quickly back to the common room, she realized how warm and wet she felt down below. How could I have done that, dream like that, right in the library?
She felt as though, ever since the summer, she had become more and more desirous of Ron each day. It had been a gradual climb, but a climb nonetheless.
Of course, wouldn't it be nice to entertain the idea that Ron really cared for her? That it wasn't just the continual proximity of the one girl in his life that made him feel these things for her? The same things she felt for him?
She loved Ron. There had never been any question. She'd always been enchanted by his ginger hair, his freckled body, his passionate attitude. There was so much about him that wasn't in her....and she dearly loved every bit of it.
She loved burying her fingers into her pet Crookshank's ginger hair, and thinking about the boy who's hair had practically begged her to buy him. How long have I wanted to bury my fingers in HIS hair?
Thinking about the dream, she silently cursed herself for her nearly nightly sessions--just to ease the tension, she thought--that probably caused her to have such a naughty conclusion to her dream in the library.
It was all Lavender and Parvati's fault. It had all started in third year.....
.....A Moment from Third Year......
Hermione had been periodically listening in on Lavender and Parvati all night (how could she avoid it?), while she pretended to read the "Monster Book of Monsters." Yes, the book had a very nasty and complex animation charm on it, but as far as Hermione was concerned, she'd read better books about magical creatures. It was a pity Hagrid hadn't chosen his first class text simply for the shock effect.
So, at that moment, something Lavender was saying caught her attention.
"Hey, Parvati, don't look at me like that. I just asked a simple question." Hermione could barely see Lavender's back to her, brushing her hair on her own bed through the partially closed curtains, looking at Parvati who was sitting on her bed and looking very embarrassed.
"I don't have any dreams about men...and I most certainly don't moan in my sleep." Parvati was blushing...which was a mean feat, since she had such a dark complexion.
"Yes, you do. I heard you last night. You have to be dreaming about some bloke." Lavender giggled, and Hermione turned her tongue out and hoped she wouldn't gag. Before she could turn her attention back to her book, Parvati said in a whisper, "Lavender....I was moaning, but not because of a dream."
Lavender stopped brushing her hair in mid-stroke. "You mean..."
"You won't tell anyone, will you?" She whispered again.
Suddenly, the two girls, both with blushing faces, turned around and looked toward Hermione's bed. Hermione realized she was far enough behind her curtains they couldn't tell she was listening. Finally, they turned back to one another.
Hermione silently moved closer to the opening of her curtains. She made sure to conceal herself behind the curtain.
"So, you really made it? You really got that far?" Lavender was whispering.
"Yeah." Parvati said, a little shakily.
"Wow. What did it feel like?" Lavender said in awe.
"Fantastic. Kind of scary, at first. I thought something was wrong with me. Then, I just felt all warm and contented. It was very messy, though..."
Lavender made a short gagging sound. "Don't tell me that!"
For a moment it sounded as if they were hitting each other with pillows. As Hermione couldn't see them, she didn't know for sure. What were they talking about? Was it dangerous? And why was she beginning to feel warm all over?
Lavender whispered, so softly that almost Hermione missed it. "I've touched myself down there, too. But I only do it when I am bathing. I can only ever get to that point where I feel like something will happen...."
Parvati giggled nervously. "You just have to let yourself relax, and let yourself go. I promise you, it will be worth it. Maybe I should have done it in the shower the first time...." The collapsed into giggles.
Hermione was aghast. They were talking about...masturbation. Sure, she'd read about it in books, but never thought about it much past that point. All the books she'd ever read explained it in thoroughly technical, clinical terms. She'd never really given it much thought. After all, she had much more things to do then wonder about that sort of thing.
Suddenly, it became one of the more pressing issues in the next couple of days. That, and trying to make sure that she didn't miss any classes with her time turner.
Hermione went to the library several times and tried to find more "heated" tomes relating to the activity. After many lengths of searching, she found several titles. "The Secrets of Sex" and "Pleasing Your Mate and Yourself" seemed to fit the bill. The only problem was, they were in the Restricted Section. Hermione was surprised Hogwarts even retained such adult texts. Then she realized that 7th-year students were 17, and so it made more sense.
None of the teachers or staff she could think of would ever provide her with a permission slip in order to check out the books. Hermione pushed the issue aside for a while, putting her concentration back on her true studies.
.....Later that year.....
Hermione filled out another order form for Flourish and Blotts. While she checked the box marked, "Private Delivery," an owl swooped in and dropped a heavy box on her desk. She was lying on her bed, in the dormitory alone. Unwrapping the box, she placed "The Single Witch" and "Sleeping Alone" on the large pile of books and other work she needed to do.
For weeks, she spent nights, days, and weekends learning her lessons....and learning other things.
~*~
Hermione shook her head angrily. She was now standing outside the portrait hole. Muttering "Hogwarts, a History," Hermione walked in as the fat lady nodded and revealed the common room entrance. It was that third-year curiosity, and Lavender and Parvati's endless chatter, that had her so strung out all third year. Oh, and the fight with Ron. And that crazy Trelawney. Not to mention Malfoy. The time turner.....
Well, there were a lot of reasons. But her dratted third-year research was still getting her into all kinds of trouble.
Harry, Ginny, and Neville were sitting in the common room, playing exploding snap. Hermione walked up to them at once.
"Where's Ron? Is he okay? How did his meeting go?" Hermione muttered, glancing around.
All three remained silent for a moment, before Harry said. "He left."
"Left? What do you mean?" For a moment, she thought he meant Ron left Hogwarts.
"When he came back from his meeting, he was in a mood. We tried to find out what was wrong, but he didn't tell us. Then, he said something about wanting to see you, and then I told him you were in the library. He got upset, and then said he was hungry, and asked me for my invisibility cloak." Harry finished, giving Hermione a sheepish look.
"Hungry?" Hermione scowled, but then thought back to dinner. True enough, Ron hadn't eaten that much.
"Well, now it's nearly curfew, and if he gets caught he'll be in terrible trouble!" Hermione stated. Dropping her bookbag on the rug, she put her hands on her hips. "I'm going to get him." Making sure the Prefect badge was visible on her lapel, she walked right out of the portrait hole. She nearly ran all the way down to the hallway with the murals of large fruit, and tickled the large picture of a pear on the wall.
She noticed that all the house elves were asleep, neatly lying near the fireplace. Hoping not to wake them, she walked toward the cupboards.
Two disembodied hands were pouring chocolate syrup onto a bowl of ice cream, right in front of her!
She gasped in shock.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, just as he let the invisibility cloak fall to the floor.
Hermione frowned immediately.
"What do you think you're doing down here?" She asked, crossing her arms. Her heart fluttered.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing." He said, putting the ice cream bowl and syrup jar down on the counter.
Chapter Seven--Love is Only a Feeling
*
"The first flush of youth was upon you when our eyes first met
And I knew that to you and into your life I had to get
I felt light-headed at the touch of this stranger's hand
An assault my defenses systematically failed to withstand."
"Love is Only a Feeling" by The Darkness
*
Hermione was in the library...worrying about Ron and his meeting with Professor Forester and Albus Dumbledore. She'd already presumed that it had something to do with what had been happening between Ron and Professor Forester.
In front of her was Wilkin's "Practical Defensive Guide Against Dark Magic, Grade Six." Hermione was happy that Professor Forester had chosen this text for the class, as Wilkins was one of her favorite authors. He'd quickly stepped up and replaced Professor Lockhart as the expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts texts.
In a pile next to her, she had placed several new books about Sirens, and some old ones. She hadn't really read about Sirens since they'd learned about them first in third year. She chewed her lip, and felt excited in knowing what a good teacher the professor was going to be. Hermione had never appreciated books like Newt Scamander's, that were more suited for young children then 13-year-old Hogwart's students.
13-year-old....Hermione smiled. What a year that had been.....
She felt her mind was wandering, so she looked down at her essay and yawned. She'd spent all evening studying, and had kept fighting the drowsiness. Just one more line.
Trying to concentrate on her work, she shoved her quill into her inkwell (using traditional quills kept her more awake than the self-inking ones), and pushed on. She knew she probably should go back to the common room to find out how Ron was, but she'd never get all the work she needed done if she went back now.
After several minutes, the lines on the parchment became blurry.....
....and then, she was sitting behind her desk at home, writing. The room looked precisely as her room had looked when she left it in the summer. A few articles of clothes were peaking out of bottom of the closet, and many books were strewn about on her bedside table. A tall bookcase of her favorite tomes called out to her. Bright sunshine flowed from the window near her canopy bed. She put her quill down, and crossed to the window and looked out. The street below bustled with activity.
It all seemed so familiar, this particular activity. She smiled when she saw Crookshanks outside, climbing up a tree after a squirrel.
To her astonishment, she heard soft breathing behind her. She turned around abruptly to her bed. Then, all at once, everything made perfect sense.
The bed itself was dark, as her heavy canopy shadowed anything lying in the depths of the cushions there. Looking closely, she saw the naked shoulders and head of Ron, lying under rumpled quilts. He was breathing very deeply, a pleased smile on his face. Only tiny dots of light filtered onto him through her canopy of curtains. For some strange reason, they perfectly circled the freckles there.
Hermione dropped onto the bed, and took no time in shedding her outer robes and jumper. Then she lay down next to Ron, softly caressing his naked left arm underneath the quilts. It seemed so real, so comfortable.
She shyly turned to him and kissed his cheek. "You are so beautiful." She whispered to him, and his smile increased. He didn't open his eyes.
Then she pulled down the quilt so she could see his naked chest. She'd seen it once during last summer, so in her mind's eye, it looked more real then it ever had. She groaned.
Running her hands over his youthful chest, she saw his nipples turn to sharp points. She reached over and nibbled at one. This Ron sleepily muttered, "Mmm, Hermione.."
"Yes, my love?" The she moved up to kiss his mouth.
Suddenly, Ron was gone...."No," her mouth uttered. A sharp ache burned through Hermione's body...
Pulling her skirt up roughly, she nearly ripped off her knickers. Expert fingers teased below, and gradually the coiling heat she craved built in her abdomen. She wanted to let it build and build for a more intense release...instead, she let herself fall over the precipice, her body shuddering over and over, her anxious cries echoing in the empty room. An irritated voice was calling for her through her closed bedroom door.
"Miss Granger? Wake up. You're dreaming, Miss Granger!" It became very loud. It was so loud it was right next to her ear.
Hermione opened her eyes and looked up, stunned. She'd fallen asleep. And she had THAT dream again? Now, Madam Pince was holding her shoulder with a gnarled hand, looking very oddly down at her.
"Ah-hem, Madam Pince." Hermione felt her face burn. "I'm so sorry. I must have fallen asleep."
"Quite a dream you must have been having, Miss Granger." Madam Pince said disapprovingly. She tut-tutted. "You've gotten ink all over your face, as well."
"Oh." Hermione took her wand and muttered the cleansing spell, waving her wand toward her face. "Thank you."
"You'd better get going, it's nearly closing time." Madam Pince waggled her eyebrows and pushed up her enormous spectacles. Then she walked back to her check-out desk, busily stacking books and putting things away.
Hermione got up and placed her nearly done essay carefully into her bag, and put the used books onto the take-back pile on her way out of the library. She'd memorized what she needed from the books, so there would be no need to check them out.
Walking quickly back to the common room, she realized how warm and wet she felt down below. How could I have done that, dream like that, right in the library?
She felt as though, ever since the summer, she had become more and more desirous of Ron each day. It had been a gradual climb, but a climb nonetheless.
Of course, wouldn't it be nice to entertain the idea that Ron really cared for her? That it wasn't just the continual proximity of the one girl in his life that made him feel these things for her? The same things she felt for him?
She loved Ron. There had never been any question. She'd always been enchanted by his ginger hair, his freckled body, his passionate attitude. There was so much about him that wasn't in her....and she dearly loved every bit of it.
She loved burying her fingers into her pet Crookshank's ginger hair, and thinking about the boy who's hair had practically begged her to buy him. How long have I wanted to bury my fingers in HIS hair?
Thinking about the dream, she silently cursed herself for her nearly nightly sessions--just to ease the tension, she thought--that probably caused her to have such a naughty conclusion to her dream in the library.
It was all Lavender and Parvati's fault. It had all started in third year.....
.....A Moment from Third Year......
Hermione had been periodically listening in on Lavender and Parvati all night (how could she avoid it?), while she pretended to read the "Monster Book of Monsters." Yes, the book had a very nasty and complex animation charm on it, but as far as Hermione was concerned, she'd read better books about magical creatures. It was a pity Hagrid hadn't chosen his first class text simply for the shock effect.
So, at that moment, something Lavender was saying caught her attention.
"Hey, Parvati, don't look at me like that. I just asked a simple question." Hermione could barely see Lavender's back to her, brushing her hair on her own bed through the partially closed curtains, looking at Parvati who was sitting on her bed and looking very embarrassed.
"I don't have any dreams about men...and I most certainly don't moan in my sleep." Parvati was blushing...which was a mean feat, since she had such a dark complexion.
"Yes, you do. I heard you last night. You have to be dreaming about some bloke." Lavender giggled, and Hermione turned her tongue out and hoped she wouldn't gag. Before she could turn her attention back to her book, Parvati said in a whisper, "Lavender....I was moaning, but not because of a dream."
Lavender stopped brushing her hair in mid-stroke. "You mean..."
"You won't tell anyone, will you?" She whispered again.
Suddenly, the two girls, both with blushing faces, turned around and looked toward Hermione's bed. Hermione realized she was far enough behind her curtains they couldn't tell she was listening. Finally, they turned back to one another.
Hermione silently moved closer to the opening of her curtains. She made sure to conceal herself behind the curtain.
"So, you really made it? You really got that far?" Lavender was whispering.
"Yeah." Parvati said, a little shakily.
"Wow. What did it feel like?" Lavender said in awe.
"Fantastic. Kind of scary, at first. I thought something was wrong with me. Then, I just felt all warm and contented. It was very messy, though..."
Lavender made a short gagging sound. "Don't tell me that!"
For a moment it sounded as if they were hitting each other with pillows. As Hermione couldn't see them, she didn't know for sure. What were they talking about? Was it dangerous? And why was she beginning to feel warm all over?
Lavender whispered, so softly that almost Hermione missed it. "I've touched myself down there, too. But I only do it when I am bathing. I can only ever get to that point where I feel like something will happen...."
Parvati giggled nervously. "You just have to let yourself relax, and let yourself go. I promise you, it will be worth it. Maybe I should have done it in the shower the first time...." The collapsed into giggles.
Hermione was aghast. They were talking about...masturbation. Sure, she'd read about it in books, but never thought about it much past that point. All the books she'd ever read explained it in thoroughly technical, clinical terms. She'd never really given it much thought. After all, she had much more things to do then wonder about that sort of thing.
Suddenly, it became one of the more pressing issues in the next couple of days. That, and trying to make sure that she didn't miss any classes with her time turner.
Hermione went to the library several times and tried to find more "heated" tomes relating to the activity. After many lengths of searching, she found several titles. "The Secrets of Sex" and "Pleasing Your Mate and Yourself" seemed to fit the bill. The only problem was, they were in the Restricted Section. Hermione was surprised Hogwarts even retained such adult texts. Then she realized that 7th-year students were 17, and so it made more sense.
None of the teachers or staff she could think of would ever provide her with a permission slip in order to check out the books. Hermione pushed the issue aside for a while, putting her concentration back on her true studies.
.....Later that year.....
Hermione filled out another order form for Flourish and Blotts. While she checked the box marked, "Private Delivery," an owl swooped in and dropped a heavy box on her desk. She was lying on her bed, in the dormitory alone. Unwrapping the box, she placed "The Single Witch" and "Sleeping Alone" on the large pile of books and other work she needed to do.
For weeks, she spent nights, days, and weekends learning her lessons....and learning other things.
~*~
Hermione shook her head angrily. She was now standing outside the portrait hole. Muttering "Hogwarts, a History," Hermione walked in as the fat lady nodded and revealed the common room entrance. It was that third-year curiosity, and Lavender and Parvati's endless chatter, that had her so strung out all third year. Oh, and the fight with Ron. And that crazy Trelawney. Not to mention Malfoy. The time turner.....
Well, there were a lot of reasons. But her dratted third-year research was still getting her into all kinds of trouble.
Harry, Ginny, and Neville were sitting in the common room, playing exploding snap. Hermione walked up to them at once.
"Where's Ron? Is he okay? How did his meeting go?" Hermione muttered, glancing around.
All three remained silent for a moment, before Harry said. "He left."
"Left? What do you mean?" For a moment, she thought he meant Ron left Hogwarts.
"When he came back from his meeting, he was in a mood. We tried to find out what was wrong, but he didn't tell us. Then, he said something about wanting to see you, and then I told him you were in the library. He got upset, and then said he was hungry, and asked me for my invisibility cloak." Harry finished, giving Hermione a sheepish look.
"Hungry?" Hermione scowled, but then thought back to dinner. True enough, Ron hadn't eaten that much.
"Well, now it's nearly curfew, and if he gets caught he'll be in terrible trouble!" Hermione stated. Dropping her bookbag on the rug, she put her hands on her hips. "I'm going to get him." Making sure the Prefect badge was visible on her lapel, she walked right out of the portrait hole. She nearly ran all the way down to the hallway with the murals of large fruit, and tickled the large picture of a pear on the wall.
She noticed that all the house elves were asleep, neatly lying near the fireplace. Hoping not to wake them, she walked toward the cupboards.
Two disembodied hands were pouring chocolate syrup onto a bowl of ice cream, right in front of her!
She gasped in shock.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, just as he let the invisibility cloak fall to the floor.
Hermione frowned immediately.
"What do you think you're doing down here?" She asked, crossing her arms. Her heart fluttered.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing." He said, putting the ice cream bowl and syrup jar down on the counter.