Eye For An Eye: Part I: Ron and Hermione
Disclaimer: Characters from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters belong to ladykyo and the separatesisters.
NOTE: This story will jump around from pov to pov, so I'll let you know whose pov is being used at the start of each new section/ where the povs change.
ladykyo
Chapter 7: … Getting to Know All About You
Hermione's pov
For some reason, once I blew up at Ron, I felt much better. I started to relax, and I looked, really looked, at the castle I would have to stay in. It was a beautiful room we were standing in, full of books and rather old works of art. I felt my anger under the surface but strangely it didn't bother me. I was annoyed and I shifted my weight as Ron continued to scrutinize me.
I wanted to open my mouth and tell him off, but my stomach growled and cut me off. I rubbed it absently and managed to glare at Ron as he laughed at me.
"Hungry, love?" he asked me, using the endearment that I had been unwittingly waiting for. I shot my eyes up to meet his and dropped them quickly to my feet.
"Yes, I am hungry, as a matter of fact. Don't call me 'love', Ronald," I said as I dragged my face back to his gaze. His face darkened with what anyone else would call desire. I saw it for what it was: rage.
"Don't call me 'Ronald', Hermione. I think we've established that what is between us calls for more intimate forms of address. Call me Ronald again, and I won't warn you beforehand," he growled at me.
"Warn me of what?"
"This," Ron charged me, pushing me back against the table again, his tongue hard and relentless against my lips until I opened to his thrusts. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, and I bit him. Hard.
"Bloody hell, Hermione! You bit me! You drew blood!" Ron pulled back suddenly, his eyes growing empty as he backed away from me. His arms dropped to his sides, away from my body and back to his. He looked hurt as he turned his back on me and fled the room. I hesitated for a second and when I entered the hall from the study, he was gone.
Ron's pov
Hermione was surprised when I broke the kiss and ran from her, but I had to. She drew my blood, and even though it was my own blood, I felt the hunger rising. Threatening to take my being over and turn me. My back was rippling as the bones contorted and the muscles twisted around, rearranging my appearance.
Soon, I could no longer run on my own two feet. I fell forward, turning my gait to the four-footed variety. Fur burst forth on my chest on back, and the moon peered through the clouds and storms to rain its light down on me.
In this form, the one I preferred to battle in, I was a rather large wolf. However, I knew from Harold's descriptions that my fur was red like my hair and my eyes remained blue, but they seemed to glow from my face. I howled at the moon, an open invitation to the other predators in the area. For a moment I thought I heard another wolf not unlike me answer back. I howled once more, but heard nothing but an echo. I sat on my haunches and bayed at the moon for a while before it occurred to me that what I had told Hermione earlier was still true: the roads were washed out, thanks to the storms still raging.
I had to hunt, and I had to get some food into Hermione as well. I ran into the woods and quickly found my prey. A small rabbit sacrificed its life for me to continue. Sad thing, the food chain. But I was bigger, and I had Hermione well within my grasp.
I had found her! She was lovely, she held my soul, and she was a firebrand. In short, she was perfect. And I had to provide for her.
Revitalized, I loped back to the castle, breathing deeply and laughing a wolf's laugh. I saw her back at the window that belonged to the room I slept in, when I had slept during the night. I growled absently, and her face appeared at the window. I ducked around the side of the castle. I trotted under an awning and shook thoroughly. If you don't shake all the water off, you're soaked when you change back. I reared up on my hind legs as I pushed my human form over my lupine form and crept inside silently. I grabbed the clothes I kept by the door and slipped them onto my naked form. That's something else that has to be kept in mind: when you change, your clothes are by and large destroyed. Always change back where you can get something to cover yourself quickly, especially in winter or during a storm.
I heard Hermione crashing around upstairs and turned my attention to providing for her. I needed no wand to conjure food for her. I created all sorts of foods, filling the refrigerator and cupboards. She'd be here for a while and I would rather not have to make food again, not until she and I were bound and wed.
I finished not too quickly as Hermione bounded into the kitchen. I turned to smile at her as she took in the sight of a fully-stocked kitchen.
"Oh, Ron, I am absolutely starving! Aren't you?" she asked me, eyes glowing. She entered the kitchen and came to stand next to me, almost touching, but not quite.
"I could eat. What would you like, love?" I asked her softly as I studied her. She seemed to be so grounded, I wondered if she would even bat an eye when I explained the situation to her. I wasn't going to test that theory tonight, however.
"Eggs, mashers, meat. What are you in the mood for?" Hermione wandered over to the refrigerator and pulled the door open. She rustled things around in the fridge and came up with a pack of eggs and a package of hamburger. "Do you have potatoes in the pantry? Good. Grab those and start peeling. Peel half that bag, then slice them into thin pieces and put them in the fry pan with some oil while I get the eggs and meat ready. Do you like scrambled eggs? I hope so; I don't make them any other way."
I don't know how, but I was all set to make a meal for her, and she showed up and took over. She gave me my orders and I followed them to the letter. She walked over to the counter opposite the one I was working at, and silence reigned.
Finally, Hermione sighed and glared at me once more.
"What?"
"Don't you have a radio or something in here? Anything?"
I stared blankly at her before the question registered. "No, sorry, 'Mione."
She put her knife down and stomped out of the room. I heard her footsteps go up the stairs, then in the study, then coming back down as she returned to the kitchen with some apparatus from her bag. She cleared some of the things from her counter and pulled out a small, white, kidney bean-shaped thing and some speakers. I knew what those were, but the rest escaped me.
"What's that, 'Mione?" I asked as he puttered around with the things. Suddenly, music poured out of the speakers and filled the kitchen.
"This," she said, picking up the small white thing, "is a called an mp3 player. It is a Sony Bean; it holds music in mp3 or other formats so that I can carry a lot with me without carrying a lot of other things."
I looked at the speakers and back to her. She smiled and had the grace to blush a little bit.
"Most of the time, I only have to carry the Bean and my headphones. I don't know why I brought the speakers with me today, but I'm glad I did. I can't live without my music."
"What music do you listen to?" I liked the music coming from the speakers, but I wanted to hear her voice instead.
"I usually listen to American bands and singers. Some of the stuff is international, but I have a real weakness for Grieg and Wagner. What do you like to listen to?"
"Anything, really."
"So. You'll listen to anything?" Hermione grinned evilly. She hit a button on her mp3 player, and a strange beat filled the air. She started to swing her hips around as the music began to take shape. She waggled her bum at me, and as I caught her eye, I could swear she winked at me.
I know a challenge when I see one, so I grabbed her and started to dance with her, letting the passionate Latin beat take us both over, bringing my beast to the edge and holding him there.
Hermione's pov
I don't know what I was thinking, putting Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" on. I know that the song always takes me over, makes me dance. But lately, it has been stroking my powers, helping them to grow.
That song along with every thing else in my life that evoked any emotion.
I started dancing and Ron growled a low, long growl, very animalistic, and very sexy. It wasn't too long before he joined me, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close, grinding himself into me. The music had ensnared him, too. I opened my mouth to sing along with the words, but his mouth took mine over. He kissed me softly at first, then he crushed his mouth over mine. He forced his tongue into my mouth, playing with my tongue until I played back. I took a breath and pushed my tongue into his mouth, and he nipped my tongue. That little bit of pain, no more than a pinch, really, but it was enough to break the spell of the song as it ended and switched to another song.
Queen's "It's Late". Go figure.
"Ron, how about some food?" I said shakily as I pulled my arm across my face, wiping the remains of our kiss from my lips. Ron grabbed my arm, his eyes glowing blue at me.
"Don't ever do that, Hermione. Ever," he growled, not letting my arm go.
"Do what, Ronald?" I was scared, and it was beginning to come through in my voice.
"Don't ever wipe my kisses away. Don't wipe me away. Now, what do we do next for our meal?"
"Did you peel the potatoes yet?"
Ron looked a little sheepish. "No. Got busy."
"Peel while I brown the meat and scramble the eggs. Hmm…," I walked back to the refrigerator and pulled the door open, rummaging around until I found some cheddar cheese. Now I was set.
As Ron peeled the potatoes and set them frying, I broke and scrambled the eggs. I set them back on a warmer while I browned the meat and then I plated the eggs and folded the meat into them. The potatoes smelled wonderful; Ron must have added some spice to them. I held the plates out while he spooned the potatoes onto them, next to the eggs. I slathered butter onto my food, leaving Ron to do what he liked to his own. I carried my plate to the small table and waited for Ron. He came and sat with me, but he didn't pick up his fork. I had already started eating, but I put my fork down and regarded him just sitting there.
"You don't pray before a meal, do you? Have I done something?" I asked quietly. I didn't want to upset him, but I was hungry.
"I don't pray, Hermione. I just don't pray."