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 SEVEN: Snape's Study
"What an unexpected pleasure," Professor Snape purred in his most dangerous voice.
"Er. Yeah," Ron offered, unhelpfully.
He and Hermione had just burst through the door into the Potion Master's office without knocking or waiting to be invited in. He had been sitting at his desk engrossed in some old-looking parchment. He hurriedly scooped it into a drawer. They were lucky he had his clothes on, Ron thought, immediately wishing he hadn't.
"We need your help, Professor!" Hermione said urgently.
"Indeed?" Snape asked, his raised eyebrow supplying the rest of the sentence, which was clearly, 'and why would I want to help you two?' He shuffled some papers on his desk ostentatiously, which could be read as 'I'm extremely busy', then leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, code for 'this had better be good.'
Hermione ignored the body language, pulled up a chair and sat directly in front of the desk. Ron's mouth dried up with fear, but he did manage to note that he wasn't hearing anything sexually suggestive when he looked at Snape. That was a mercy, anyway.
He remained standing, because Snape hadn't offered him a seat and the way his nostrils had flared at Hermione's presumption had been super scary. Hermione explained exactly what had been happening to Ron since their lesson that morning, in rather more detail than Ron was comfortable with. As her tale progressed, he realised that Snape was staring at him with something which, on the face of someone with a sense of humour, could have been regarded as amusement.
Then he realised something else. If he wasn't hearing voices, then they were out of range of the sex-thoughts. That meant he could delete Hermione, Snape, Crabbe and Goyle from his list of suspects. He had already discounted Harry and Malfoy, because their kinks bore such little resemblance to the fantasies on which he had been eavesdropping.
When Hermione finished, Snape was silent for several excruciating minutes. Finally he flicked his wand towards a wooden stool, which scooted over and hit Ron on the back of the knees.
Then he ordered: "Sit! Summarise!"
Ron sat and said, "Erm. So, it's since I drank that potion which I had done completely wrong because I'm an idiot and I should pay more attention to you." Snape nodded graciously. "Then when I look at someone then I hear their voice saying thoughts about me, but it's not their thoughts. Only sometimes it stops when there aren't so many people around."
"Describe the contents of these thoughts."
"Sexual."
"About?"
"Me."
"More detail."
Ron coughed nervously. He tried to think of something fairly innocuous. "There was … erm … flowers on a bed and then we crushed them."
"Go on." Snape had a nasty twinkle to his dark eyes. Ron hoped it was just amusement.
"Chocolate sauce. You know, like licking it off. Licking it off me. With no clothes on. That sort of thing. Kissing." He could feel the cursed Weasley blush spreading over his face and neck.
"And you are of the belief that there might be someone in this school who is actually misguided enough to choose to fantasise about you in those ways?"
"Don't know," Ron muttered.
"Of course there is!" Hermione responded sharply. "Quite a few people actually. Ron, tell him what Malfoy wanted you to do!"
"No!" Ron practically shouted. He had thought that he had turned as red as he could get, but his skin reached new heights of flaming embarrassment.
"So why can't he hear everyone who's thinking about him?" Hermione quizzed their teacher, as though this was an interesting little Arithmancy puzzle.
Snape ignored her, instead asking Ron, "What was Madame Pomfrey's diagnosis?"
Ron looked at Hermione, but it was out of habit and he knew he would have to answer the question himself. "She said it was psycho-… erm, psychic- … er, all my head."
"Few people," Snape sneered, "would be deranged enough to have such thoughts about themselves. But in your case that would be the most obvious explanation." He paused as though deep in thought. "How wrong do you think you might have got that potion?"
"Not too wrong, I wouldn't have thought."
"I'm sure I would have noticed if he'd done something completely idiotic. I usually do!" Hermione supplied.
"Indeed." Snape thought for another moment then commented, "You are unaware of the identity of this pervert, therefore you do not hear her, or his voice. The voice is carried through the channel of the one you regard at that moment. Hmm. Tarnishing Potion. Ah! Oh. A geographical limitation, possibly. Mmhmm!" Snape closed his eyes for a moment then raised one finger. "I see," he added, before opening his eyes and leaning forward over the desk and looking Ron in the face. "This sounds like …" he left a long, theatrical pause, "nothing I've ever heard of before." Then he leant back in his chair and emitted an odd wheezing not unlike a laugh.
Hermione's face fell. "You can't help us? You can't tell us how to stop this?"
"Or who's doing it?" Ron added.
Snape shrugged. "No," he said. "But I can tell you that you are late for your next lesson and take ten points from each of you. If you stay any longer then I will be late for mine and that will cost you another ten points each."
Ron sprang to his feet and leapt for the door.
Hermione stood slowly and began, "Thank you for your time, Professor, I hope we --"
But then Snape looked pointedly at his watch and Ron cut her short by grabbing her sleeve and pulling her out of the door. He set off towards the stairs.
"What's the next lesson?" He asked Hermione as they marched.
"Maybe … Hmmm," she said, with that annoying 'I think I understand everything but I'm not going to tell you until after I check it out in the library' expression on her face.
"What are you thinking? Just tell me!"
"I don't know. I'd rather check it out in the library --"
"That won't be until after the next lesson and I've got Quidditch practice after tea so it'll be hours until you can tell me. I think I have a right to know!"
"Right to know? You sound like Harry. OK, well, all I was thinking was that - I think it's Ovid - there's this theory --"
"What's that got to do with me?" They had reached to top of the stairs and were back in the entrance hall. "Where are we going?"
"What? Oh, Transfiguration."
"OK." Ron started up the next staircase. Then he stopped dead. "Hermione!" he wailed. "Transfiguration? McGonagall?" His breath came in useless little pants. "I can't!" he whined.
He became aware that they were not alone. Vincent Crabbe was staring at them from the alcove where the suit of armour was still scattered over the floor. Ron hastily straightened up and took hold of Hermione's robes again. They resumed their determined march upwards.
"Uh, excuse me." The tone was so polite that the voice did not even seem to be Crabbe's.
The Gryffindors kept walking.
"Uh, Miss Granger. Um … Excuse me."
Ron was all for legging it, but Hermione pulled herself free of his grip and turned round.
"Yes Mr Crabbe?" she asked.
Ron kept going, but he made sure he stayed within hearing range, so he would be able to rescue Hermione if things got nasty.
"Aren't you meant to be in Charms?" Hermione was asking.
"Yeah. I'm a bit late. I just. Um …" Ron decided he needed to check Crabbe's face, because something was definitely very odd.
Crabbe looked scared. Maybe nervous. He took a deep breath, then held his head high and said, "It's just that I wanted to speak to you, Hermione. Can I call you Hermione?"
Hermione nodded slowly.
"Well, it's just that I heard you, I mean I couldn't help hearing, your, um, conversation earlier and I just thought I might mention that I've got a set of 'his and hers' lacy basques. With matching garter belts. If you're interested. Black with green bows. And silk cami-knickers."