Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Fondu Au Noir	By : Wander_Lust Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 77870 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor any of its characters nor am I profiting from this in anyway!

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
I'm tempted to just go away.
I toy with the idea of actually accioing a broom and flying out of a moving train. I don't want to be around Harry.
Potent anger is rushing through me as I loiter outside the bathroom and consider my next move.
I want Harry to just cave already. I'm sick of him fighting me and I'm sick of this whole situation. It just isn't fair, isn't it?
Does he honestly think that if I could magically make myself stop feeling the way I do for him that I wouldn't? But obviously I can't, can I? Especially because I know he feels the same way. He's proven it to me over and over again.
It's really all his fault, to be honest. He's the one who set the tone for our relationship, he's the one who made himself so important that I can't be without him so he should just take responsibility!
I need relief from my frustrations.
My wand is out a second later and I run off some tricky but useless transfiguration spells- a piece of rubbish left on the floor becomes a large bouquet of lilies, the lilies into birds, the birds into a chair.
My spellmanship gives me an audience. I can feel their eyes on me as I transfigure more and I hate it. I hate the feeling of being watched. I quickly stop and glare at the onlookers as I brusquely march away.
To try to find an empty compartment is not as impossible as it seems since some students don't go home for Christmas or leave through flooing. I find one a ways away from Harry but right now anywhere on this train isn't far enough. I make do.
I think its a shame that I left my books in their compartment but I'm not going to go get them and it's against school rules to accio something on the train in case it hits someone.
So I do the only thing I can do. I curl up on the bench and fall asleep.

We still like stone as all eyes fall on us. I get nervous at all the attention. It wasn't like this for all the other students when their names were called to get sorted.

Harry takes a step forward and I naturally move with him so our clasped hand don't get separated. We're not about to let go of each other.
We both move forward weaving through the others as they stare at us.
Harry squeezes my hand. 'It's okay, I'm right here.' He is saying. I breathe a little easier.
We near the steps.
"Ms. Potter cannot join you while you are being sorted, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall's expression is stern and unrelenting.
Harry straightens his spine, cold green eyes glaring up at her as I look on, silently supporting him.
"We're not separating." I nod beside him and move closer to his side. McGonagall balks at his gumption but before the rising anger can explode from her, Headmaster Dumbledore speaks up.
"It's alright, Professor McGonagall. Just this time won't harm." He peers at us over his half-moon glasses with a little smile, his eyes laughing and never once leaving us.
Harry and I both feel a little less tense at his words but McGonagall is clearly unhappy, her face quite perturbed.
"But, Headmaster! If you allow such behavior-"
"Minerva, we still have quite a ways to go with the sorting. Mr. Potter, Ms. Potter, if you will." He gestures to the stool in front of him. Harry and I know not to look a gifted horse in the mouth so we continue forward together, ignoring Professor McGonagall's huffing.
Harry takes the stool first with me standing to his left, holding his hand. McGonagall has to move to his other side to place the hat on his head when its clear I'm not about to let his hand go.
It's scary to look out and see all those eyes watching us, whispering to each other. Petulantly, I yearn to be alone with Harry in a tight space like the cupboard in our own world without all these outsiders.
A small jolt from Harry draws my attention to him to find the sorting hat's lips moving but no sound admitting from him. The hat is to big for Harry's head, covering his eyes so Its hard for me to decipher what's the matter with him.
Instinctively, my hand tightens around him in my concern. There is a pause before Harry's thumb rubs soothing circles over my hand. Communication without words.
The hat calls out Gryffindor and the hall instantly erupts with excitement; Gryffindors screaming and beckoning Harry. He stands to look at the Gryffindors, making no move to listen to their calls, his hand still firmly in mine. I sit on the stool, already screaming in my head to be sorted into Gryffindor. The hat stood no chance.
We go down and sit at the table together. We are quiet as the others act fanatically to having both of the Potter twins in their house.
We both hate the attention.
It makes us both feel so sick that we don't eat even when the older kids tell us to.
"They're too odd, those two. Like dolls." Someone says.
"More like Siamese twins. Do they ever let go of each other?"
The talk gets worse as the weeks pile on but Harry and I don't mind it.
"I bet they even shower together."
"I heard that they both go to the loo together."
"Well, I heard Dean and Seamus saying that they've seen Hermione sleeping in Harry's bed at night!"
"That's just too bloody weird!"
At night, while tucked comfortably with Harry in his bed, I ask him the questions that have been burning me up.
"Are you alright, Harry? Does it bother you, what they're saying?"
Harry's arm reflectively tightens around me.
"No, not at all." A lie. "Why? Does it bother you?"
I burrow myself closer to him.
"No, I only care about what you think."
Soon, the talk dies down, most people getting used to seeing us always together with the exception of certain Slytherin's. And then Neville's rememberall gets taken by Malfoy and Harry becomes a hero.
"That's bloody wicked, mate! How you caught it."
"Yeah really brilliant! You flew so fast!"
We're surrounded, smiling faces directed at Harry filled with excitement and awe. Harry looks shy but not that uncomfortable but I can't take it. These bodies are too close, their attention too much. I let go of Harry's hand and move away, my spot immediately getting taken by somebody else. Nobody even pays the slightest attention to the only girl who told Harry not to.
Except for Harry.
His eyes immediately search through the crowd for me and I get a second to see the confusion in them before his attention is diverted. I walk away to the library where I study even more fervently on an upcoming potions exam.
"Harry's so wicked cool, isn't he?"
"The first first-year in over a century to make the Quidditch team!"
"It's surprising though, isn't it? I had no idea that he could do that!"
"That's because he's never does anything! He's always just with his sister."
"Yeah, I don't know why he always sticks with her so much. All she does is study!"
"Well, I reckon it's because she doesn't have any friends, right?"
In bed, Harry pins me down to the bed with a hard stare.
"What happened to you earlier? Why did you just go off like that?"
Petulantly, I can't shake the anger I feel toward Harry, even though logically I know its none of his fault. I give him a half-hearted shrug and don't open my mouth, refusing to meet his eyes. He shoots off some guesses getting more frustrated when I continuously don't respond to him.
"Hermione!" he growls, reaching out and grabbing my face so I would look at him.
I break down as soon as I face him, telling him all of my feelings as stupid tears run down my face and over his hand. Harry laughs at me and I'm so thrown by his reaction that I stop crying. Harry looks at me and kisses my face and then my lips.
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard, Hermione! I don't care about anything other than you! We'll be together always just like we have been, nothing will ever change..."

I move in the dreamlike state as the Weasley's greet us and I'm stuck in this dreamlike state as the days go by. Seeing but not seeing. I can't allow myself to see and feel normally.

I don't want to see the Weasley's being so happy surrounded by their precious family. I can already taste the bitterness on my tongue, feel my eyes turn green with envy. Warm fire next to a Christmas tree filled with presents as Molly cooks up a hardy meal with sounds of laughter and banter lifting the house.
It hurts. Harry loves it, sees it as a goal to strive for but me...I'd rather ignore it, throw myself in books, fix things involving other peoples problems and remove myself from my own pain. Seeing a happy family doesn't make me feel hopeful it makes me feel pain, sadness, anger.
And seeing Harry like a hopeful kid makes me want to drag him down to me, to my level.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Self-hatred makes me tear away at my self-esteem. I'm at war with myself. I know that my clinging to Harry is bringing him down in more ways than one. It's making him deny his greatest wish, to have a happy family. My presence only reminds him of the bad, like I am the embodiment of his pain, a face to take hold of all the things he wants to forget.
The good thing- the right and the brave thing to do would be to let Harry go, separate myself from him. Him ignoring me and going out of his way to avoid me is like a bucket of ice water over my head.
I need to let him go.
The thought gets more pronounced as the days go on.
In this house I am like a ghost, there but not there to the other's around me, not engaging with them as Harry.
Outsider. Ostracized.
I spend my time reading in Ginny's room since she is never in it except for nighttime.
I make sure she's always there for nighttime.
However, most of the time I stare out of the window. Ginny's window faces the little field that they play Quidditch in. I sometimes spy on Harry.
I get observed in writing a list of the reasons why I should give up on Harry and then I combat it with a list of why I shouldn't.
All too quickly, the door bursts open, startling me. I turn to see an equally surprised Ron towering in the doorway. For a moment we just blink at each other.
"Oh, err, sorry. I didn't know you were in here."
I watch him as his face turns red and he coughs uncomfortably. He doesn't leave, however, even though he looks like he wants to. I find this to be odd, not annoying like I would have thought in the past. I turn more fully to face him, putting down my quill.
"Do you need something?" I don't mean for it to sound catty but it does anyway.
Ronald's face gets defensive as his ears go red.
"I don't need anything from you if that's what you're asking. Just came to get back something Gin took from me." He says as he stomps over to snatch up a broom cleaner tool.
I watch him as he goes. He pauses at the door for a moment before he swivels back around, his face set in a frown.
"You know, you're really full of yourself! You think my family's not good enough to socialize with so you stay hauled up by yourself all the time? No one forced you to come over, you know! The least you could do instead of going around with that frown on your face all the time is to show some thanks to my mum who lets you eat her food all the time!"
I'm taken aback by this unexpected onslaught of anger. I didn't think of what I look like to the Weasley's having always been so conscious of what I feel to them. I realize that my expressions could be misconstrued.
Then again, is it misconstrued? I really don't like the Weasley's.
I wonder if Ronald has spoken to Harry about this. Did it make things awkward for him?
I also realize that this is the first time I've talked to Ronald without Harry being around. It's no surprise that we would have a spat.
"I don't frown all the time, I was just thinking. Though, I'm not surprised that you wouldn't know what that looks like." I respond. There's no way I am going to apologize to him when I'm not the least bit sorry.
Ronald's face gets redder.
"Does that make you feel good? Being a bitch to people all the time? That's why nobody likes you! You think you are so much smarter than everybody-"
"So what is your point? I am a lot smarter but that's because I actually try in school. I won't feel bad for that. It's you who should be ashamed."
Ron's face turns sour as he struggles for something to say, something to counter my words. I see his struggle, the frustration brewing and displacing itself onto me. He's bitter about something and lashing out at me. I can see this now but I don't care to know what has upset him. I want him to leave.
"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm saying that you're stuck up! Since we've been here you haven't once stuck your nose out of a book!"
Oh, I see now. I think as he continues on. It's all so clear to me now, the real reason for him having a go at me. Something spikes in my heart that's neither unpleasant or pleasant. A feeling I've never felt before.
"Sod it! I don't even know why I'm bothering myself with you!"
I look at him properly now to see him walking away. Was that his odd way of trying to get my attention? Could it really be like I think? That he's really mad that I haven't tried to hang out with him?
Does he want to hang around me?
That feeling strengths in my heart. I know what this feeling is now. Empathy.
I know what its like to want to see yourself reflected in someone's' eyes. I remember what it felt like to see myself in Harry's beautiful eyes. To have his focus so strongly that I was the only thing reflected. It felt like having a purpose, of being special, needed. I had a reason to live in this world.
But it's not like that anymore. I hate it. If I'm not reflected in those eyes then I'd rather him be blind than letting those eyes wander to someone else.
I think I understand you, Ronald Weasley. You're a simple-minded fool.
I watch Ronald at dinner to find him catching my eyes quite often, his face going from bitterness to confusion each time they met.
I go upstairs alone. I'm always the first to go to sleep. I wonder if he'll dream about me. If his mind is torturing itself wondering about me; what I'm thinking, if my gaze meant anything, what I think of him.
It's sad how easily emotions can be thrown in the name of supposed love.
Every night I dream of Harry and wake up panting in agonizing unfulfilled desire. Every night I rush off for the loo and seek some sort of reprieve.
I wonder why it is so agonizing. Why do these feelings have to hurt so much?
I let the water cool me off. It cleans me of my filthiness. I breathe in the steam with a long sigh.
I can't remember the last time I had a decent nights sleep. Definitely not since Harry stopped letting me sleep with him.
My bones feel heavy. I feel like I could fall asleep here in this tub filled with water.
It takes a minute for my lethargic mind to even realize that the door to the bathroom has been opened.
I look up, my wet hair falling away from my face slowly. Ronald Weasley stands before me, his mouth opened in shock as he stares, not moving.
Oh.
I wonder if he needs to use the loo.
I rise out of the water. I am not even thinking about being bashful. I can't possibly be bothered about what Ronald Weasley might think.
He stares fixedly, his eyes going blank. I step out of the tub and the moment my foot touches the floor its as if it shocks him. His whole body jolts and his face goes impossibly red.
"I-I-I'm-" He sputters completely tongue-tied.
I walk to the towel I placed on the counter, watching him struggle with himself.
His face is one that says he knows he should turn around but he can't and so he's embarrassed. His conflictions make me smile.
I hold the towel out to him. He looks at it blankly.
"Dry me." My words make his face slacken. I feel my heart explode in my chest. Dry me like Harry used to.
I want to say those words. There on the tip of my tongue but I can't. It's too much for this simple fool to handle. My heart is too much for him to handle.
Ron doesn't move. It's like I stunned him.
I look away, my stupid smile falling as I wrap the towel around myself.
"Get out Ronald Weasley," I say. I'm too tired now. I just want to sleep.
His eyes go wide and suddenly it seems as if the situation has finally caught up to him.
"No, I'll do it!" He scrambles with hopefulness, excitement, shock, desperation.
I hold my hand out so he doesn't approach.
"No, I've changed my mind." I say as I collect my clothes.
"Bu-"
"Goodnight." I breeze past him not saying another word.
For once he doesn't either.
The next day, I feel Ron's eyes on me constantly. Quietly, I eat breakfast and pointedly don't look at him. I move with specific purpose to pretend he is not there.
I do, however, decide to help Mrs. Weasley.
"I'll do that." I say, reaching for the plates that she was about to pick up.
"Oh!" She looks surprised as I grab the plates and bring them into the kitchen. This task is normally done by Harry and in turn Ginny but today I grab them before they can.
"I'll help too!"
I sigh hearing Ron's quick response.
"Oh!"
"Well, well, well, Does ickle Ronnikins-Omph!"
"Shut up Fred!"
"Ronald!"
In the moment's it takes for Ron to handle his brothers teasing and his mother's shock, Harry has come in and sets his plate on the counter beside me.
I don't look at him as I wash my plate. The pause of silence is awkward.
"So, you're helping." It feels like forever since that voice has been directed at me.
"Obviously."
"It's odd." I want to smile at his bluntness.
"Is it? I have basic manners too. It's not my fault that you and Ginny rush off all the time and it's not like it takes three to wash and dry dishes, does it?"
"It doesn't. But why does Ron-"
"Oh, Harry!" I look from my peripherals at Ron coming over then at Harry who looks displeased at being interrupted. "You don't have to help this time. Me and Hermione got it."
"Hermione and I." I correct him but it falls onto dear ears as Harry responds.
"You and...Hermione." He says this slowly as if its hard to say the two of us in the same sentence.
"Yeah mate." Clearly, the words shove off are suggested in his tone. I peek a look at Harry to see how he'd handle that and, like expected, his jaw is tight, his hand closest to me grips the counter tightly.
"Right then," He pauses as if reluctant to move. "Well, we have the Quidditch match later against the twins and we need you this time Ron since Percy decided to play, so hurry this up."
Harry walks off, leaving me alone with Ron.
I look up at him to find him just looking at me. He's waiting for my move. I grab the towel off the rack and hold it out to him. The air is thick as we both think of last night again.
"You dry."
Ron doesn't hesitate this time and takes the towel right out of my hand.
"Err, you know, about yesterday…"
"Which part about yesterday? When we rowed or when you saw me bathing?"
"Err..."
"You're better off just pretending that it didn't happen. Just forget it."
"I don't want to forget it." he quickly rushed to say.
His words catch me off guard. Surprised, I look up at him. He's completely red in the face, his face an uncomfortable frown. I think I heard wrong.
"What?"
He peeks over at me. My heart clenches.
"You heard me. I have no reason to forget about it."
Hmm. I think I have to re-evaluate Ronald Weasley. He's braver than I thought.
"Suit yourself then."
There's silence in which I can feel the nervous energy coming off of him.
"Are you, er…" He clears his throat uncomfortably. "You should play Quidditch with us after."
"I won't. I hate flying." I state with a firm there is no convincing me expression.
"What? How can you hate flying."
"Why do you think you've never seen me flying? I absolutely hate it and there's really no point in trying to convince me otherwise."
"I just thought you were embarrassed that Harry is so much better than you at it."
"Well you're wrong and if that had been true I would have practiced until I got better at it because I'm not a quitter." I strongly state, scrubbing the dishes with extra force.
The subject lulls but not for long. I only have the knives left to wash. I think Ron knows that his time is almost up.
"You should come out anyway. It's not good to be cooped up inside all day. You can watch us play or referee…"
I look outside the window. It's a beautiful day out. If I strain my ears I can hear laughter. I know that Harry is happy to be here. I know that these simple times just playing Quidditch in the sun are irreplaceable to him.
But it's not like that for me.
"No," I say, gaze falling back down to the knives in my hand. "I have to finish my holiday homework." That's a lie. I finished homework and started on other projects within the first few days of break.
Besides, Christmas is tomorrow and the best gift I can give Harry is this. Space.
"Oh come off it Hermione. You know you're just making up excuses-"
I slam the knives down after rinsing and without another word, I turn away.
"The hell, Hermione! Wait-!"
I sense him coming behind me so I immediately turn around and move away from his outstretched hand.
"Don't touch me!" I hiss taking a breath against the adrenaline spike in my heart. Ron stops his movement his face getting madder. I stop him before he could say anything.
"I'm not going out with you Ronald so leave it, alright?"
"Fine then! Just stay locked up like a bloody ghoul in the room for all I care!"
He turns and stomps off. Good.
Unlike what I told Ron, I don't go to read in Ginny's room. Instead, I go to his room. I haven't slept properly in so long. I just want to sleep.
Harry's side of the room is neat, the bed made with the corners all tucked like a mirror image of my own bed upstairs. It's the way Petunia drilled into us.
I lay down on his designated bed and immediately feel lighter as his smell engulfs me. I wrap myself in his sheets and bury my face in his pillow. I'm asleep in the next second.
I wake up pleasantly slowly, completely different from the panicked jolt or sweaty gasping like I normally do.
He's sitting so still that I don't immediately notice him but a jolt shoots through me immediately when I see him sitting there. I can't see his eyes because the moonlight is reflecting off of his glasses but I feel the intensity of his stare none-the-less. I sit up, the blankets sliding down my skin.
"I found you in here when it was time for lunch."
I glance out the window and not that its well past lunchtime now. Noise carries up the stairs and I can tell that the Weasley's are in the mist of having dinner.
"Why did you stay with me?"
"I didn't. I just came back up to wake you."
I sigh and lay myself back down onto the bed.
"You shouldn't have bothered. I'm not hungry."
"You have to eat, Hermione."
"No. I'm too tired. I haven't been able to sleep at all, you know." I pause and give him a long look, debating. "You can stay with me." I say, raising the quilt.
Tiredly, Harry leans his elbows against his knees and whips off his glasses to rub his eyes.
"How are you not tired of it yet? How have you not given up?"
I lower the sheet, climb off the bed, get on my knees before his legs.
"I love you." I say earnestly, grabbing his hand and kissing it slightly. "And I will always pick you first. There is no one that I want to be around more than you. It's as simple as that."
Harry wiggles his hand free from my hold to trace his fingers down my face. His face looks down at me with indescribable emotion as he holds my face.
I can see his eyes now. They're dark in this lighting and totally focused on me.
His thumb traces over my bottom lip with heady fixation. My heartbeat escalates with the rising anticipation in the air.
I capture his thumb into my mouth and give it a hard suck, watching him. Harry's breath escapes him and his mouth slackens as he waits for my next move.
I open my mouth so he can see my tongue swirl around his thumb. He's breathing so hard 's taking over the sounds from down below of the Weasley's chattering.
Wicked.
I want to do wicked things to him as the Weasley's unknowingly carry on downstairs. Right here, right now on Ron's bed.
My mind flashes with all the things I want to do to him as I take his thumb back into my mouth and slide it in and out, in and out.
Merlin all the filthy things I think.
Harry's breath escapes him in a whoosh totally engrossed in my ministrations.
His tongue snakes out to like his lips and he swallows hard. Yeah, he's feeling it.
"Mate! What's taking so long?"
Ron's voice drifts up to us sounding as if right outside the door.
Harry jerks away from me so quickly its as if he apparrated. His flushed face can't look at me as I try to meet his eyes.
I smile bitterly to myself and give up, backing away from him.
"Go on, Harry." Let him run away. It's okay now because my words were true. I will pick Harry first. I want him to be happy. I don't want him to know what this feels like, not getting picked first, not being your loved ones first choice. Harry keeps his back to me as he catches his breath and I hold my tongue as he collects himself.
"Will you come down with me? You need to eat and Mrs. Weasley made a lot for Christmas Eve."
I laugh without humor. Does he really think I can go down there now or that I'd care if that woman cooked a lot?
"No. I'm not going down." I say as I lean myself back against the side of Harry's bed. Harry waits for a pause as if struggling internally on whether to just drag me down there himself.
"Go."
"I'll bring you up a plate." Finally, he goes but he doesn't close the door.
"Took you long enough." Ginny's voice carries up to immediately irk me like no other. That teasing lit she uses to mask her suspicious intentions. Merlin, I hate her.
"Yeah." Harry says lamely.
"Where's Hermione?" Ron's question warrants an awkward silence. I wonder if the pause is from Harry trying to think of a response or if he's trying to reign in his annoyance at Ron for being concerned about me.
"She's not feeling well. I'm about to fix her a plate to bring up to her."
"I can do that for her, Harry." Ginny immediately offers make my teeth grind. "And Ron doesn't mind bringing it up to her since he's fancying hard on her."
"Piss off! You're such a bloody liar, Ginny!"
"Oh am I? Is that why you've been going on about her all day and staring at her all the time and-you alright there Harry?"
"Fine."
"Wait, Harry, Ron can take the plate to h-"
"No. I'll do it."
Harry's footsteps ascend the stairs and I wait still in the same spot for him to come. I can tell immediately that he's trying to keep his anger and jealousy in check as soon as I see him.
"What?" He spits out as he shuts the door. "You shouldn't be smiling."
I shrug, keeping my smile in place.
"You shouldn't be so obvious. You'll make your precious girlfriend unhappy." I say as I rise and take the plate from his hand to set on the nightstand.
"And you shouldn't be in here! This is Ron's room! It's-"
"What's bothering you more Harry?" I question as I draw near him, invading his space. "That someone will think it's weird that I want to sleep in my brother's bed? Or that Ron can come in here whenever he wants while I'm here and make a move?"
A knock sounds just as Harry is about to respond.
"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley calls, her voice inquisitive through the door. Harry immediately goes to open the door turning on the lights as he does.
"Mrs. Weasley." he says as he opens the door.
"Harry, dear, I told you to call me at least Molly if you can't-Oh! My, what are you doing on the floor Hermione? Are you alright? I've brought some potions with me that will make you feel better. We should get you back to Ginny's room. Harry, help me, would you dear?"
I'm thrown by the onslaught of Molly Weasley's concern. The next thing I know, I'm in my bed in Ginny's room swallowing down two disgusting potions with her non-stop prattling in my ears as she shoves the plate of food in my hands.
"Alright then, Hermione. Eat up."
My desperate eyes fall to Harry standing by the doorway watching and completely useless against the Molly whirlwind. I tear my eyes away and meet her expecting one.
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." I say before awkwardly taking a bite of the food. It's good if a little bit too heavy with the sauce but I would hardly say that to her.
Mrs. Weasley beams and finally gets up from the chair she'd set in front of the bed when she was fussing over me.
"Good, I'm glad. Someone will be back to get the plate later so just eat up and then go to bed and you'll be right as rain for Christmas tomorrow morning. Come on Harry, let's go back downstairs and let your sister rest."
I stare off after them, a tight knot in my chest. Mrs. Weasley smiles kindly at me just before she's about to close the door.
"Eat Hermione. I'll see you bright and early Christmas morning."

I wake up with a jolt, hot lump already in my throat. I sit up trying to recall the reason for these lingering feelings of despair in my chest. The dream fades quickly but it leaves the yearning to be next to Harry.

I get out of bed and debate in my mind whether to just sneak into Ron's room to slip into Harry's bed. I sneak a glance over at Ginny who is deep into sleep. Just looking at her sleeping so peacefully makes me feel worse. I need out of this room, that's for certain.
I walk out, head down the stairs when it hits me that it is Christmas. My heart shatters further. I can't see Harry when I feel like this and burden him. I don't want to drag him down with me.
I switch course to the bathroom again feeling stifled. I open the bathroom door, strip myself of clothing and turn on the water. Without care to the temperature, I slip into the spray.
I close my eyes to this world and try to think of things to get rid of this feeling. I recall an interesting fact that I read in one of my textbooks about Transfiguration.
Maybe its because my eyes are closed so my senses are more alert that I feel as if there is someone else in the bathroom with me. I nonchalantly open my eyes to gaze out of the bathroom. Nothing.
I turn my head back and continue to wash, breathing in the steam, trying to relax, trying not to think.
The creak should have gone unnoticed if it wasn't for the stillness in the bathroom. Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it's not there.
I wait a moment, pretending to suspect nothing before I spring out of the tub, water sloshing all over the sides of the tub. Quickly I step out of the tub and move forward with my hand outstretched. There's not much room to go in the small bathroom. Almost instantly, I feel the silky fabric of the invisibility cloak on the tips of my fingers. I latch on, pulling off the cloak easily.
There, underneath, Ron stands in a shrinking pose.
"I-I-I" He sputters compulsively his face utterly panicked. "I-I'm sorry, I..."
The cloak slips through my fingers to fall delicately onto the floor. I watch the boy-ashamed, raunchy, impulsive- and I feel...nothing. It's almost like I'm out of my body.
When he sees nothing, no anger or disgust, his stuttering stops. Slowly, with tentative nervous eyes like a stray animal, he uncurls to his normal tall frame.
I have the power here.
The rush that I feel with this knowledge...
I breathe again, come back to myself.
I'm ensnared with the oddest desire to ruin this person before me. I want to make him feel so good so I can crush him, make him need me so much he can't think straight just to make him fall apart.
I want to turn him into me.
Keeping my eyes on him, never losing that connection, I grab the towel beside me and held it out to him.
He gulps hard before his hand reaches out to grab the towel.
"Dry me." I order.
His breath stutters but he takes a step closer to me. I hold out my wet arm to him and with two hands he runs the towel down my wet skin. His eyes keep flicking to mine, he breathes short uncontrollable pants.
His reaction makes me want to laugh a little.
With concentration, more than I've ever seen him use before, Ron wipes my body down. I feel nothing sexual in this action but I know it's not the same for him. He's not shy as he wipes down my breast, down my stomach to my quim, and around to my bum.
I don't show my surprise when he goes onto one knee and places my foot upon it so I don't lose my balance as he wipes down my legs.
When he's down, he looks up at me from on the floor and awaits my next command.
I love it.
With a dark smile, I gaze down at him and speak.
"Comb my hair."
My eyes flick to the only comb in this bathroom and without further queue, Ronald goes and snatches it, going behind me and gently moving my so its all down my back.
Gently, and with a tenacity I didn't know he could possess, he brushes my hair. It's very soothing since with it's wet it's not frizzing into a tangled heap.
I feel lulled as he wordlessly works. He uses his long fingers and the comb to run down my hair.
My eyes inadvertently drop, my senses all focused on one place. My head falls back, giving him better access. I let out a breathy sigh.
The comb clatters to the floor as Ronald's big hands fall on my shoulders. I snap back to and turn my head to peer at him over my shoulder with a sharp, cold gaze.
"I didn't tell you, you could touch me."
I step away as anger flashes through his face.
"But-"
"Do you want me to tell Harry?" The dangerous lit to my tone effects Ronald greatly, first with disbelief, then outrage. "What do you think he will say when he founds out that you snagged his cloak to sneak to spy on his sister bathing?"
"You let me stay! What do you think about what he'll say to that?"
"I think if I denied it he'll believe me."
I calmly grab another towel and wrap it around myself then gather the invisibility cloak into my arms.
"That's not what this is about though," I face him square on, ignoring his anger and petulance, "Just do as I say."
I slip through the door in just my towel. My eyes immediately gaze down the darkened hallway in the direction of Ronald's room where Harry is sleeping.
Gathering the cloak tighter into my arms, I turn away. I have a feeling I will need it.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Fondu Au Noir