Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Every Bad Sex Cliche in the Book	By : meleighme Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2968 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Rating: PG here. Will eventually be R.

Beta�d by Lei who is OMG SERIOUSLY THE BEST BETA EVER!!!!1! Or something.

For all the excitement out in the hall, the door opened to a rather unremarkable Charms class. Flitwick motioned for Ron to come in, and--despite his being late--just continued on with the lecture. No points taken off; no pause in the demonstration; no nothing. Ron was almost disappointed. He�d at least expected to have seen people flying around the room with blue hair; not this normalcy of classmates sitting around and paying attention. He shrugged and moved to sit by Harry and Hermione.
�Hello, all. No need to worry, I�m fine, just peachy after having been knocked out and laid up in the infirmary all night. But I won�t guilt either of you into doing my homework for me. I trust that would have already been done.� Ron smiled at both of them, but neither one moved. Hermione was scribbling notes as fast as Flitwick was speaking and Harry was poking his wand at a rather nondescript, grey feather in front of him. Ron frowned. �Is this lesson that important?�
�Hmm.� Harry nodded without looking up. His wand was giving off faint blue sparks and the feather remained completely still and unharmed, as if nothing were being done to it at all. Ron leaned over to get a better look.
�What, have you got it glued down then? Sticking charms?�
�No.� Hermione said sharply. �It�s a variation--� Suddenly she went silent, eyes flashing in indignation, and she bent her head closer to the desk, pressing the quill so hard that the tip was bending and Ron thought the parchment might rip.
Harry glanced up from his feather and raised his eyebrows at Hermione. He stared at her for a second with a bemused look on his face and then turned to Ron. �No, it�s a variation on some other charm, not a sticking one--I know that for sure--I can�t really remember right now. I�ve been feeling off. The scar, you know.� He ran his fingertips over his forehead and winced at the contact.
Ron blinked. �This reminds me, have either of you noticed that everyone around here has gone completely mad? Harry, you know that�s serious. You should go to Dumbledore if your scar�s bothering you. You remember--.�
�Nah. I think I�ve pretty much figured it out.� Harry had this odd dreamy look on his face, and as Ron glanced around he noticed that the rest of the class did too. Everyone was staring off into space. Well, everyone, that is, except Malfoy and Hermione. Malfoy was baring his teeth and smiling at the same time, as if he wanted to look as dazed and happy as the rest of the students, yet was trying as hard as he could to sneer. Hermione, as usual, hadn�t looked up from her notes and Harry had resumed poking the feather and smiling contentedly.
�There was a guy,� Ron tried again. �Well, really, a man who was me, just outside in the hall. He disappeared.�
�Hmm.� Harry said without moving his gaze from the feather. Ron slammed his hands against the desk in frustration.
�I guess I�ll have to pay attention in class then, won�t I? With neither of you not the least bit concerned that my concussion is giving me delusions.� He crossed his arms and sat back in the chair, turning his attention to Flitwick in time to hear him end the lecture.
�It�s a fairly well-known spell that was invented by Beowulf; whom you might have heard mentioned in your History of Magic class. He is one of those odd cases that crossed over to the Muggle world. Here in the Wizarding World, however--especially Wizarding Britain--we generally regard Beowulf as the modern era�s first Auror. Indeed, that is what the Ministry of Magic bases its model on: an extremely brave and exceedingly determined individual who was willing to die so that others may become king.� Flitwick paused and raised his wand, pointing it at a feather that was resting on the table in front of him. As he talked, the funny little half-smile never left his face.
�Swulge Wrixlan.� The feather slowly lifted into the air and began to contort into odd positions. A rainbow of swirling steam and sparks swirled within and around it, and the feather seemed to sprout wings, increase in size, shrink and duplicate itself all at the same time. But as suddenly as the transformation started, all the movement stopped without warning; the feather dropped back onto the table with a soft clink. The class remained unfazed, with only Ron staring in astonishment at the display. �What has just happened is that the feather has become a conduit, you see, it has swallowed some of the spells that I pushed into it, and in exchange it becomes a--�
Before he could finish the explanation, the door to the classroom burst open and revealed an agitated looking Professor Snape, who stood in the doorway for a moment before walking briskly towards front of the room. His robes were flowing outward so much that they were almost horizontal, and it really should have been impossible to get that kind of lift without Snape breaking into a run, but there it was.
When Snape leaned over to mutter something into Flitwick�s ear, Ron nudged Harry. �No matter how addled you are, you have to think that Snape interrupting any class that is not his own is odd.� Ron elbowed Harry again. �Are you listening?�

Harry didn�t respond, and Ron grit his teeth. He reached out to move the feather so Harry would have to pay attention to him, but when he made to grab it, Harry shifted and he ended up taking hold of his hand instead. The blue sparks turned a brilliant orange as they spit out from the end of Harry�s wand, and a jolt shot through Ron�s arm.
He meant to let go, he really did, but a spinning sensation began to flow through him and it seemed to spread to the rest of the room. The world was tilting; it was like he had lost control and could no longer focus on anything except where their hands were connected. And Ron had never noticed this before, but Harry�s black fringe of hair slightly obscured his eyes--those piercing, green eyes that were bringing him back to his body again, pinning him down right this instant. Suddenly he was able to move again and his free arm was rising of its own accord to brush the hair out of Harry�s face. Hermione made a strangled noise beside him, breaking the spell, and Ron felt as if he had been slammed back into his body after a night of eating experimental candy from the twins.
Taking a deep breath and trying to stop the blush he felt crawling up his neck, Ron pulled his hands away and pushed himself back from the table. �Look, Harry, today has been very strange so I�m just going to go talk to Snape and see if I can�t go back to the infirmary.�
Harry looked at Ron as if he were the one that was mad, instead of the world around him. �Snape? You want to talk to Snape? Ron, I don�t think that you�re acting right.�
Just like that, the feeling of complete connection was gone and the fury was back. �That�s what I�m saying!� Ron said. �I think I have a serious wound that�s causing me to hallucinate. And on top of that I have a headache.� He rested his head in his hands. �Did you feel like you were spinning? Just a moment ago?�
He looked through his fingers at Harry, who scratched his head and for a second, Ron thought there might have been a breakthrough. Then Harry smiled that bloody half-smile again and Ron very nearly growled in frustration. �Have you noticed that Malfoy hasn�t once tried to get us in trouble? Or that everyone in the class is completely silent?�
Harry moved his chair closer to Ron. �What does Malfoy have to do with anything?�
�He doesn�t. I�m just wondering why everyone is acting so bloody weird. Just�see what Hermione�s doing?� He motioned with his hand and Harry looked over at her.
�She�s taking notes.�
�Exactly!�
Harry rolled his eyes. �She always takes notes.�
Ron thudded his head against the desk and grimaced. �Yes, but why?�
�Ron, are you feeling ok?� Harry tilted his head and looked for all the world like some sort of inquisitive bird intent on chirping outside of his window until Ron went completely batty. Shrugging, Ron turned to face the front of the room and was going to continue wallowing in the absurdity of everything, when he felt a warm hand press against his forehead. Ron jerked away.
�What are you doing?� He narrowed his eyes and flinched when Harry made to touch his face again.
Lowering his arm, Harry calmly replied, �Taking your temperature.�
Rubbing his hands over his face in frustration, Ron bit out. �You�re. A. Wizard. You can do that with a spell, you can ask me how I�m bloody feeling--which I�ve told you five times already--or you can trust me when I say something is seriously wrong here. Right, Hermione?�
Hermione inclined her head towards Ron, but remained completely focused on her notes. Ron felt heat rise up his neck and into his face, and he knew that he�d probably passed red by now and was slowly turning purple with frustration.
�Flitwick isn�t even lecturing anymore. She�s completely ignoring everything--� Harry�s hand was on his forehead again, only this time it did not stay there, but instead slid down to cup his cheek. Ron catapulted out of his seat.
�I�m just checking.� Harry said defensively.
�I feel fine! I feel great!� Ron looked around the classroom at all the students staring dazedly at the teachers who were still engaged in a private conversation. �Shouldn�t Snape be yelling at us and deducting points? It�s only proper that he should be normal. �Oh,� Ron sat down again, losing steam. �My head is killing me.�
�It might be eye strain.� Hermione said from beside him. Ron lifted his head slightly and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

�I�m sorry,� He twisted in his seat to fully glare at her. �Did you say something?�
�It might be eye strain?� Harry repeated with a look of complete confusion on his face. �Hold on.� He took of his glasses and made to hand them to Ron. �I used to get headaches all the time. At first they thought I was slow, but when they made out I couldn�t read because I couldn�t actually see the pages--�

�Look.� Ron interrupted, pushing the glasses away. �I have a headache because of the insanity around here, not because�� The glasses were shoved onto his face, and the room took on a blurry edge. �That�s exactly what I needed.� He lifted his hands to pull the glasses off, but Harry stopped him.
�Just try for a minute.� Harry leaned in closer. �It might get better.� His hands were brushing Ron�s cheek again, and all of a sudden Ron noticed that they were sitting way too close. �You trust me, don�t you Ron?� He could feel Harry�s lips moving the air next to his ear and he tilted his head to look him in the eye. It was odd, the spinning feeling was returning and he could feel himself sinking into the freedom of an absolute loss of control.
�Yeah.� Ron said. �But I--�

�Giving out medical advice, are we Mr. Potter?� Snape was glaring down at him, greasy hair, rotten countenance and all. Ron wrenched backwards away from Harry.
�Ron has a headache.� Harry said.
Snape looked unimpressed. �And this is why you decided to interrupt my class?�

�Your class?� Ron sputtered after overcoming the shock of being stopped when he was about to�to do something to Harry. �What do you mean your class?�

Harry sighed. �Look, sir, he�s got a headache.�
�No,� Ron said. �I�m mad. But I�m quite certain my headache is gone now.�

Harry turned to him in surprised happiness. �I told you it was the glasses.�

Ron yanked the offending object off of his head and threw them on the table. Snape was standing very still, taking all of this in.
�Indeed. If you are having problems with your eyesight, you should visit Madam Pomfrey and arrange a visit with the�� Snape trailed off and began to stare in the distance. �What was that?�
�Sir?� Ron glanced behind him to see what Snape was looking at. Not seeing anything, he turned back around and resisted the urge to wave his hand in front of Snape�s vacant stare.
When Snape finally started to speak once more, it was like he was talking to someone else, to someone standing just next to Ron, but no one was there. �What was that?� Snape repeated. �Opto-magician? That�s ridiculous and hardly plausible.�
�The what?� Ron said.
Then he suddenly seemed to snap back into himself, adopting the semi-dreamy look that mirrored Malfoy�s; only Snape was having better success at sneering. �Ten points from Gryffindor.� He said offhandedly. �Oh, and Mr. Weasley? Detention.� Then Snape turned towards the Slytherin side of the room. �Draco! Detention as well.�
Ron stared up at Snape, who looked like he had just swallowed a lemon. He glanced over at Malfoy who, unsurprisingly, looked exactly the same way.
�Yes sir.� Malfoy muttered.
Ron threw his hands up in the air. �Sure. Fine. Detention with Malfoy for no reason at all. What, you�re not going to give Harry detention either?�
Harry handed him the glasses again, then moved his gaze down to the feather. �You can keep them for right now, if you want.�
Ron tossed the spectacles across the room. �I don�t need the glasses! Keep them! And hopefully whatever has made this entire bloody school batty isn�t catching!� He turned to Snape who was still standing there as if he had forgotten that he was able to move. �Well? Aren�t you at least going to deduct more points, you slimy git?�
�Points, oh yes.� There seemed to be haze around Snape�s head and his voice had lost its normal intimidating, dark tone. He was sounding more and more like someone reading from a script. �Fine, fine, ten more points from Gryffindor. Now sit down and finish your potion.�
�Potion?� Ron asked confusedly. �Wasn�t this Charms?�
�Flitwick has been detained.� Snape raised an eyebrow and twirled around, robes billowing out from him to the same obscene angle that they had when he first walked in; making him look even more like the great, big bat that he was.
�But he was just�� Ron stopped himself and looked around in astonishment. They were in the Potions classroom. The dungeons. Without ever having to move and walk through the castle, his entire class had been transported to the dungeons. The day caught up with Ron, and a sudden dizziness came over him; darkness seemed to intrude into his vision. Ron began to panic and breathe rapidly.
�Volde-� Ron was hyperventilating now, and he couldn�t get out the name, surprised that he had even attempted. �You-know-� He tried again, but his head was pounding--a low throb starting from the top of his neck and traveling down his face, making his ears ache. Opening his mouth, he tried to call out for Dumbledore; for Snape; for Harry. But his throat was dried up and the lack of oxygen took its toll.

Ron blacked out and slumped against the table--his head falling between his cauldron and the feather that Harry was still poking with his wand.
TBC.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Every Bad Sex Cliche in the Book