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.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yay! I'm finally back in cyber-world with a new laptop! I'm very happy but it's all a bit different and I'm getting used to a new system and a new word-processing program. So, that's why this is late and short. Also there may be some weird errors as I get used to everything. If you spot any then please let me know.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Transfiguration

Luckily, Professor McGonagall was writing on the blackboard with her back to the class as Ron sneaked into Transfiguration as quietly as he could. He kept his eyes on the Professor, watching her carefully, hoping she wouldn't notice his late entrance. This, of course, was a mistake.

"Oh, you're here. Thank goodness! I've been so worried."

It took Ron a second or two to realise that, although he was hearing the elderly spinster's voice, she was not actually speaking. Of course. He slid into the seat beside Harry.

"I thought you were ill again. It's so lovely to see you. You look flushed. I thought you might have been ... doing things ... with Hermione. I hope you haven't. I worry, I see the way she looks at you. Please don't want her. I need you to need me the way I ..."

"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said over the top of herself. She had turned round and was giving him one of her steely glares. "How nice of you to finally join us."

"Er. Sorry. Yes. Not feeling well." Ron tried to concentrate on his teacher's harsh tone and to ignore everything she seemed to be softly cooing.

"Miss Granger not deigning to bestow her presence upon us?"

Surprised, Ron looked round. It was true, there was no sign of Hermione. He had thought that she was right behind him.

"Don't know," he said gormlessly.

It was getting more difficult to shut out the thoughts McGonagall's Scottish accent was relaying. It was all so seductive.

"... want to be the only one you see, want you to stare back at me ..."

Ron was jabbed in the ribs and he realised that their Head of House had returned her attention to the board. He was jabbed in the ribs again. It was Harry, passing him a note.

Where H?

Harry still hadn't worked out how to spell 'Hermione'. Ron scribbled a question mark on the bottom of the scroll. He looked around the classroom. The Slytherins were on the other side of the school, up in Ravenclaw tower with Flitwick. This lesson was shared with the Hufflepuffs, who hadn't been in Care of Magical Creatures.

"... I want to take you somewhere warm and dark where we can be alone so I can finally show you ..." murmured Justin Finch-Fletchley's voice, though he was chewing his quill and staring at his text book.

Harry kicked Ron, the sweet nothings disappeared as he looked at the new note:

What Malfoy wanted?

Well, Ron had no intention of committing that to paper! He decided to answer the previous question instead.

H prob in library looking up my potion. Snape no help.

Ron wasn't entirely sure about the spelling of 'Hermione' either. Harry leaned over and wrote:

SS?

Even Harry must be able to spell Snape, mustn't he? It was only five letters!

McGonagall got them all standing up then, reciting the spell she'd written on the board. Ron was glad that he was taller than most his class-mates. It meant he could look over their heads, look at them all, really look at them. It was a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor in his year. Not Harry or Hermione. The sweet thoughts floated over to him:

"... I'd run my fingers through your hair ..." whispered Parvati when he looked over to her.

"... your silky, red hair. I'd bury my face in it ..." Lavender promised huskily as his gaze drifted sideways.

He looked to the desk in front of the one where he stood with Harry, the one where the boys stood.

Harry forced a note into his hand and he had to look at his best friend instead. Harry's voice took over then: "... my other hand would caress your body, down your back, below your waist and you'd be as hard as ..."

Ron's attention was drawn sharply to the front of the class by the Professor tapping her wand on the board.

As he looked at her hand, she seemed to say, "... show it to me Ron ..."

He shoved the note into his pocket and tried to concentrate on the words on the blackboard. He followed McGonagall's pointing finger. He wished he didn't have to, because it was extremely disturbing to hear the old witch saying, with a firmness to her voice which sent a shiver down his spine, "... take it out and let me look at it ..."

Harry kicked him. Ron looked down at his own leg. Then he distinctly heard their teacher say, "The note, Ron. Bring it here so I can see exactly what is so much more interesting than my lesson. This is the third time I've asked you!"

Ron sprinted to the front of the classroom, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste.

"Sorry, Miss," he mumbled. "Not very well, blocked ears."

He pulled the crumpled parchment from his pocket, realising that he had no idea what it said. He smoothed it out and handed it over. Together they both stared at one word in Harry's messy handwriting:

Malfoy?

Professor McGonagall looked confused. She looked to Ron to ease her confusion. She asked, "What does this mean, Mr Weasley?"

Ron shrugged. He lowered his voice and said, "You know what Harry's like. Obsessed."

They looked knowingly at each other. The Deputy Headmistress rolled her eyes and Ron was just about to give a cool shrug, when his face suddenly spasmed. He had just heard his teacher tell him that she loved him.