Chapter sixteen: Harry, Grab Your Wand!
"YOU FIEND!" Edward screached as he pounded Alan Rickman's gorgeous, greasy hair into the floor. I had to wonder why Edward chose to punch only his hair, but perhaps it was something that I, a simple minded and plain human girl, could never understand.
"Treads on the ground!" Alan replied as he watched the grease from his scalp sink into the carpeting. "Treads on the ground!"
Edward stopped his punching, pushing Alan Rickman's limp body to the side. "You are no man," he said firmly. "No. Man."
"And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she belied with false compare," Alan said weakly.
"Be that as it may," Edward said. "I cannot believe you. What man would ever think that such actions were right? I don't care how belied you are, you are still no. man."
"Edward..." I said soothingly. "We get it. He is no man."
"Well it has to sink in, Bella," Edward replied testily. "These things take time, especially when they're old."
"But Edward," I started, hoping if I explained things he would stop beating the poor old famed actor. As brilliant and as old world attractive as he was, he was no match for the brute force of an enraged vampire. "He wasn't trying to hurt me."
"No need to make excuses Bella!" Edward, like I predicted heeded no word to my plea. "I've seen this many a time in my years as a phychotrist. You're just trying to protect him because you think you can change him. Well, Bella, an abusive man will never change. He is not worth changing!"
"You were a pshychotrist?" I inquired, momentarialy forgetting that Alan Rickman was now beginning to spew liquids due to Edward's fists of fury.
"Well no, but I watch a Lifetime movie on an abusive relationship. The acting was so real I felt as if it could be our next door neighboors. Poor Diane," he stopped punching Alan for a second as tears welled in his eyes. "She really just thought love could change him. Well!" he began to beat Alan Rickman once again. "I'm not letting that happen to you Bella! I will not have another Diane in my life!"
"Music hath a far more pleasing sound!" Alan screamed as the sound of his hair squishing on the carpet became less and less. Edward was literally beating the oil out of his hair. I had to pause for a second to really think about why this was a bad thing.
"Can you just let me explain?" I tried to plead once again. Although Alan Rickamn's hair could use a good de-oiling, punching the oil out of him wasn't the answer.
"No Bella!" Edward screamed back. "Your eyes are fogged over with love! Fogged over with...with..." Edward searched for the words.
"Roses damask'd?" Alan suggested.
"Well, yeah. YEAH! LIKE ROSES DAMASK'D!" Edward stopped his punching to put his hands on his hips authoritatively. "Your eyes are fogged over with roses damask'd! Gee Rickman you sure do have a knack for the turn of the phrase!"
Alan shrugged modestly. "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun," he said.
Edward nodded knowingly. "That explains it all... You know... you remind me of someone. Not as brilliant and godly, of course, but it is a similarity which cannot be denied..."
I gasped in horror. Edward was getting ideas. Ideas which I did not fancy him acting upon. It was like communism... good as an idea but it could never work in real life. Just like the plan which was forming in my beloved cupcake muffin cup's mind.
"You need to meet John," Edward said, slapping his fist in his hand. "John would fix you. He fixed me... He could teach you how to be a man. How to love a woman properly. How to take control in the bedroom, like a real man should."
"...Edward, he did none of those thin--"
"SILENCE WOMAN!" Edward yelled at me. "This is a conversation between the boys! No girls allowed!" he stuck is perfectly shaped tongue out at me, making vague farting sounds and covering me with spittle.
"If snow be white!" Alan said excitedly, slapping his knee. Clearly, he had heard tell of the famed John Guevrenmont. His face lit up with the joy of a young child, experiencing the wonders of Disney World for the first time, only to learn that they had the whole park to themselves with a private tour from Mickey himself.
"No.. no.. no...!" I yelled muscially as Edward began to reach for the phone.
"Now is not the time to stick to the status quo, Bella," Edward said as he pressed the number two and speed dialed the high school English teacher. "John? It's me, Edward. Yes. Yes, I miss you too. Oh, well... things are going as can be expected, I suppose... yes. Yeah, I know how that is. Mmmhmm... oh, Bella? Dumb as usual, but what can you expect? I tried so hard with her and all she wants is more than anyone can give. T-rex stroking, John. Yeah, it's that bad. Anyway... yeah, there's someone I'd love for you to meet. I think he'd be a good member of the family, if you know what I mean. ...You will? Great! Yeah! I'll see you soon. I love you too. Yeah. Bye."
I blinked, trying to grasp what just happened. The one sided conversation was very hard to decode but, from what I gathered, our threesome would turn in to a foursome but I just don't know how it happened.
"Now he may seem like a high school teacher that just thinks he really great," Edward had turned his attention back to Alan Rickman, his hair back to it's full oil producing ability. "But he's really much more than that! You just have to let his magic sink in. Why I wouldn't be the man I am today with out him!"
I let out an audible scoff at this, causing Edward to turn towards me his brow furrowed in anger.
"And what do you have to say about this young tonka truck?" he probed.
"The only think John Guevermont ever taught you to do was to set a room on fire!" I spat out, not even realizing the horrible mistake I had just made.
Edward stared, shocked, then he twisted his face up as if he were about to sneeze. It all ended, however, with Edward bursting in hot steamy tears.
"OF ALL THE HURTFUL THINGS YOU COULD'VE SAID!" he sobbed, balling up into the fetal position on the floor.
"In some perfumes is there more delight," Alan rubbed a soothing hand across Edward's stone sculpted back.
"I NEED NO PERFUME!" Edward wailed, his tears only coming down hared. "But thanks for the offer." His tears ceased for a second while he expressed his gratitude for Alan's kindly suggestion.
"Edward?" a voice called from the foyer of our room.
"JOHN?" Edward looked up sniffling. "JOHN!" he screamed with delight, realizing that it really was his God in L.L. Bean comfort hiking loafers. "YOU CAME!"
"How could I ever resist my best and brillant boy?" He met Edward's running greeting hug half way. "Here." John reached into his pocket. "I even got you a present!"
"OH BOY! OH BOY! OH BOY!" Edward jumped and clapped as John lifted the package towards him.
"It's a photo album of me!" he exclaimed before Edward could even finish unwrapping it.
"WOW!" Tears of happiness ran from Edward's eyes. "Now I can have you with me all the time! This present is even better than the one Charlie gave me!" he gave a narrowed glance in my direction.
"Hey no problem. Anything for my star pupil. I think I might even write a play about you. Only, you'll be in a coma, and it will have different memories of yours playing through your coma ridden head. But, I'll put that play down only to write one about a grocery store that's haunted by a teenager ghost. My prize winning song about the trials of teenage hood will be in ther. Why, I'll even play the piano for the song. I'll name it 'Shelf Life', after the play that I never finished writing about you...if you had gone into a coma that is."
"Thank you," Edward said graciously as he took John's hands in his own and held them to his un-beating heart. "You are... you are too kind to me. An angel in this world of devils."
"I love to hear her speak..." Alan said reverently.
"Now now, Alan. I think you should take another class in anatomy. This is no woman. This is a man... no. The man. John?" Edward turned to face the French-Canadian. "I would like you to meet our new friend... Alan Rickman."
"By heaven, I think... my love!" Alan rushed to his feet only to kneel down before John, kissing his hand softly.
"Is that... Could it be..." John said.
"Yeah, it's Alan Rickman in his Snape robes," I replied only to be met with a judgmental stare.
"What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted," he continued. "Was is that... Sonnet 130?"
Alan Rickman nodded enthusiastically. "Is there more delight?" he asked.
"Only in my hit pop song!" John said as he pulled a piano out of thin air. "You see... I wrote this song... I call it 'Pop song 130'! It's based off of sonnet 130, as if you didn't already know," he nudged Alan with his elbow jovially. "I would like to perform it for you two... I think it would help you both in your times of need."
Edward and Alan looked like two dogs being handed jucy, raw steaks, cut fresh from the cow. I felt like weeping. At this rate, I would never ever get laid.