Voices No One Else Can Hear:
"Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."
(Ron to Harry, in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets,Chapter 9, 'The Writing on the Wall'.)
DISCLAIMER: I did not invent any of the characters or the setting, they belong to JK Rowling. Nor did I invent the idea of the Potions Accident Fic. I'm grateful to whoever did.
WARNING: Contains crude innuendo, filth, depravity and nob gags but no actual smut.
CHAPTER FOUR: Care of Magical Creatures
Cautiously, Ron and Harry made their way out of the castle and across the fields towards Hagrid's Hut. Harry kept a guiding hand on Ron's elbow and Ron was careful to look only at his own feet.
"I wonder why I don't hear my own voice?" he mused.
"You reckon it's all the thoughts of the same person?" Harry asked.
Ron laughed. "Oh, yeah, 'cos the world is just full of people who want to get off with me!" he said sarcastically. Then he added, "It sort of ties together. I mean, I'm trying not to think about too much, but what I remember … er, yeah, probably one person thinking it."
Harry squeezed Ron's elbow reassuringly. "It'll be all right. Hermione's probably found the right book already and then we'll get you back to normal in no time. Any idea who it might be?"
"Just hope it's not Snape," Ron muttered. "That was horrible." As was hearing Ginny, but he didn't even want to mention that to Harry.
Harry patted Ron's arm reassuringly. Then he asked, hesitantly, "This was at lunch, then, that you heard these sexual fantasies, was it?"
"Yeah! I mean who thinks about sex at lunchtime? With all that food around?"
"Oh, yeah. Weird." Harry stroked Ron's shoulder reassuringly. He put a supportive arm across Ron's shoulder - well, as high up as he could reach anyway. Then he asked, "No animals involved were there?"
"What do you mean, animals?" Ron asked, shocked.
"You know, like snakes or anything?"
"Is that a euphemism?"
"A what?"
"Snakes aren't sexy!"
There was a pause, during which Harry's hand slid reassuringly down Ron's back. Then he mumbled, "Well, they sort of are. Draped round shoulders. Naked shoulders. I mean, some people might think that," he added hastily, seeing the appalled look his best friend was giving him. "So I guess there was no snake mentioned, then, by this somebody, whoever …"
Ron shook his head to try to erase yet more disturbing images.
"No little white loin cloth?"
"Harry! What are you on about? First Hermione was -- oh! Oh! Harry I'm looking at you."
"Yes?" Harry gazed back.
"And I'm not hearing anything!"
Harry was so excited for his friend that he gave him a reassuring little rub on the buttock.
"Do you think I'm cured?" Ron asked. He raised his head and looked about him. "Hallelujah! Thanks, Harry. I can walk on my own now, I can see where I'm going. You can let go."
Harry sprang back with a hearty, manly chuckle. Ron looked about him, he looked back at the castle and the third-year Hufflepuffs mooching towards the greenhouses. He heard nothing. He looked over to the Lake, where Madame Hooch was polishing broomsticks. Nothing. Actually, hearing suggestive stuff in Hooch's voice while she ran her hands up and down that shaft might not have been too awful. No, no down-sides! He was celebrating! He was free! He looked ahead of them to where the Gryffindors and Slytherins were gathering for Care of Magical Creatures. He could only hear the wind.
A few feet further on, Hermione caught up with them but, unusually for her, she wasn't carrying any books.
"I'm sorry, Ron, I couldn't find any --"
"Hermione! Hermione!" Ron started happily, as they walked together. "It's stopped, I can't --"
But then Hermione's voice floated into his mind without her lips moving: "… love the way your hair shines in the sun …"
"Shit!"
"Do you mean you're constipated, Ron? Because there are better ways of expressing that and I'm not sure that it's a relevant symptom!" Hermione snapped - mouth moving and everything.
Not that Ron saw, he had his hands over his eyes by then. It was pretty obvious that that sentence wasn't the result of the Potions accident, though.
"Has it come back?" Harry asked, chancing a reassuring tap near the waist, but withdrawing his hand before Hermione spotted it.
Ron just nodded dismally.
"It happened as we approached the rest of the class," Hermione mused. "Keep walking, Ron, we'll tell you if you're going to hit anything."
Harry took hold of Ron's hand anyway, to be on the safe side.
"I wonder if there's some kind of limit to how far the thoughts can travel," Hermione was whispering to herself, "If we just moved into range …"
"It's Hagrid and he's holding some kind of giant pink slug," Harry hissed at Ron as they settled themselves towards the back of the class. Ron kept his eyes closed.
"Fungorus Fenticulus!" Hermione supplied, in that despairing tone which indicated that the combined I.Q.s of the whole of the rest of humanity failed to match up to hers.
"What's one of them then?" Ron asked.
"It's a kind of giant pink slug," Hermione conceded, gracelessly, adding, "We're standing still, Harry. You can let go of his hand now."
Hagrid started the lesson. While he droned on about correct feeding routines, larvae, mating habits, venom-milking etc., Ron thought about what Hermione had just surmised. If they had moved into the 'sex-thinker's' range as they got closer to this group of students, then that meant that he had been hearing the thoughts of someone who was in their school year and in either Gryffindor or Slytherin.
Somebody wants to get off with me and that person is my own age and standing very near to me now, Ron thought. That wasn't such a bad idea. He couldn't help speculating about the teenagers surrounding him and try to work out who it might be.
Or it was Hagrid.
Ron decided to ignore that possibility. He wondered whether his admirer was paying attention to the lesson, or indulging in secret fantasies. He peeked through his fingers at Hermione's shoe.
"… run my fingers through your hair …" she seemed to purr.
Still the hair? How fascinating could anyone find hair? It was several minutes since the remark about it shining in the sunlight.
"… over firm muscle to your nipple …"
Chest hair. Fair enough. Perhaps The-Admirer-Whose-Identity-Was-Not-Known was mentally working his or her way down Ron's body. Ron felt a tingle of anticipation.
"… how hard would you like me to squeeze it?"
Ron raised his gaze to Hermione's leg. It was a nice leg in a fairly short robe and combined with the mental visions her soft voice was supplying him with, it made him quite horny.
"Do you like it a bit rough, Ron, or do you want me to be gentle?"
His name! She was actually saying his name, so she really was thinking lustfully about him … Except that it might not be Hermione, probably wasn't Hermione. It would be nice if it was - he tingled a bit more - but he was just hearing her voice because he was looking at her.
"… a butterfly kiss on each freckle, all down your arm …"
Arm? That was veering off course a bit.
Actually, it might be better if it wasn't Hermione. That lingerie stuff had been a bit worrying.
Of course, he could make it whoever he wanted. At least, he could make it sound like anyone. It was time he took control and started to get some pleasure out of this situation. Who did he want to hear? Well, Lavender was pretty hot - nice tits anyway.
He looked past Hermione, scanning the crowd for the curvaceous Miss Brown. On the way he heard Pansy Parkinson's throaty voice declaring "I'll suck on those long, pale fingers!" He shivered. In a nice way.
Then he saw the back of Lavender's head and she said, "I'll show you how well I can suck your …" and a jolt of electric sensuality ran straight to his cock.
He nearly moaned out loud.
He realised he'd closed his eyes and opened them wide, concentrating on her shoulder. He'd already missed the crucial word.
"You'll take me by the hand and pull me over to a chair. Fix me with those fierce blue eyes …"
Ron had no idea where he was, he was gliding through erotic visions, carried by Lavender's voice. It felt so good.
Lavender bent down and he was looking at another back. He had a moment's panic and then Dean's voice said, " … grab my chin and pull me near …" and that felt pretty good, too. It felt good enough that Ron kept his gaze on Dean's uniform and swallowed hard as the London accent promised to "… kiss you right back, as hard as I can, my tongue stroking your lips, pushing my way in …"
He was distracted by an elbow in his ribs. Hermione shoved him forward. Then he realised that Hagrid was calling out, "Gather round properly, those of you standing at the back won't be able to see this otherwise. Come along Harry. You get round here by me."
Oh no! Ron was so aroused he could hardly walk. He shuffled up to the pen full of disgusting looking molluscs. Hagrid grabbed hold of one of them. No! Not Hagrid!
Hagrid up-ended one of the long, thin pink things and firmly stroked his huge hand up and down it as his voice slammed into Ron's head, saying, "… an' while I snog you hard you'll take hold of me thigh an' I'll sit down in your lap."
At least he'd lost the erection.