Afraid to Be Beautiful | By : Bargle5 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 5765 -:- 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. |
Author note: I just moved the disclaimer up so the Mods would be sure to see it. Nothing actually new.
Authors love reviews, even simple one sentence ones. See this address below for an excellent essay on why you should review.
http://www.etc.slashcity.net/maeglin/viewstory.php?sid=9
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Author's note: If you've read my story, "I Blame Ron Jeremy", the character of 'Rob Ryerson' will seem rather familiar. I actually wrote this story before that one, but I wasn't happy with it at the time and put it aside. I robbed the male character and wrote the other story. Now I've done a rewrite on this one and I'm satisfied enough with it to put it up.
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Afraid to be Beautiful by Bargle5
I guess I should introduce myself, I’m Rob Ryerson, general repairman for Hogwarts. I’m the one that actually does the stuff Filch is supposed to do. I fix whatever’s broken around here, usually without the use of magic. That’s because I’m a wizard that can’t do wizarding. I’m not a squib like Filch, I have wizard powers, but I don’t know how to use them properly. Due to a mixup among the schools, I was never educated like I should have been. I’m a Yank military brat. At the time I turned eleven, I was living in Europe. The European schools assumed I would be going to one of the North American schools and the NA schools assumed I would be going to one of the European ones. The result was that I never received an owl with a letter, nor did my parents get a visit from the local wizards explaining what I was. I grew up never feeling I belonged, but not quite understanding why. It was through dumb luck I found out I was a wizard at all. I was on a vacation in London. I was standing at the train station, trying to read the schedule, when I leaned against a column and fell through onto Platform nine and three quarters. Luckily for me, Professor McGonagall happened to be right there and she quickly realized what I was and got me onto the train to Hogwarts. They stuck me at the end of the Ravenclaw table and I got to watch the sorting ceremony. For the first time in years, I felt like I belonged.
Anyway after the feast, I was taken to Dumbledore’s office. He didn’t know quite what to do with me. We talked for a while and when he discovered I was that rarity among witches and wizards, one who was quite comfortable using tools and could repair most Muggle objects, he offered me the job of repairman for Hogwarts and I immediately accepted. I’ve been here ten years now. I live in a shed at the north east end of the school. And that brings us up to date, more or less.
It was near the beginning of the school year. I was working under one of the library tables, seeing what was making it wobbly, when I heard a couple of students walk into that section. I recognized Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, a couple of Sixth years. Being an off day, they were in casual clothes instead of the usual school uniform. I was only half listening to them, when Hermione walked over near the table I was under and said, “Ron, what do you think of my new skirt?” She was wearing something made of a light, white fabric with butterflies printed on it. She did a quick half spin that made the skirt swirl well up, showing off her quite nice legs. From my low vantage point, I also got to see a very nice pair of lacy red panties (knickers, they call them over here) covering a very shapely little ass (bum, that is). Ron, with his usual impeccable sense of timing, bent over to get a book off a low shelf and missed it all.
Oh, my. I think Mr. Weasley is in for a bit of snogging at the very least. I better slip out of here and leave the two of them to it. You’re a lucky lad, Ron, I hope you appreciate it.
I began to slowly and quietly make my way out from under the table. I stood up, grinning like a fool and grabbed my tool box which clanked. Damn.
Hermione turned, saw me smiling and realized where I had been. She immediately turned red, burst into tears, and ran out of the library. Ron went loping along after her.
I tried speaking to her between classes, but whenever she saw me she would either go somewhere else or again, turn red and start crying. It finally reached a point where Professor McGonagall noticed something was wrong and it somehow was connected to me.
“Mr. Ryerson, I see Miss Granger seems to become upset every time you’re near her. Would mind telling me what’s going on?”
“I don’t want to go into too much detail Professor, but I encountered Miss Granger in an embarrassing situation and she thinks, I suspect, that I was laughing at her. I wasn’t, but I can’t get her to hold still long enough to explain. I think I can put things right, if I could just talk to her uninterrupted for thirty minutes or so.”
“Hmm. Well, I’ll see if I can get you that opportunity.”
The next day Professor McGonagall called Hermione to her desk after class. “Miss Granger, I don’t know what’s on your mind, but it isn’t your studies. You are the brightest student we’ve had at Hogwarts in some time and I will not allow you to neglect your schoolwork. To impress on you the importance of this, I am giving you detention. You will report here at seven tonight for a one hour detention. Perhaps that will focus your attention where it belongs.”
“But Professor, I haven’t done...”
“Seven o’clock, Miss Granger. Not another word or it will be two nights and two hours each.”
“Yes ma’am.” Hermione didn’t like it, but she knew better than to make it worse.
Hermione walked into the classroom at seven.
“Well, at least you haven’t forgotten how to be on time. Now come and stand right here by my desk.”
Hermione noticed a pillow and blankets on one of the desks like someone was using it for a bed.
“I apologize for this Miss Granger, but I don’t see any other way.” The Professor suddenly took out her wand and pointed it at Hermione, “Petrificus Totalus!”
Hermione felt herself go stiff and begin to fall over backwards. Before she fell very far, she felt herself caught by two hands.
“OK, Professor. If you could grab her feet.”
She realized she was being placed on the makeshift bed. She saw a familiar face above her. Ryerson! What’s he doing? Why is Professor McGonagall helping him? What in bloody hell is going on?
“Alright, I think she’s about as comfortable as can be. Thanks.”
“I’ll be just outside the door whenever you are finished.” She leaned over Hermione and looked into her eyes, “Don’t worry, Miss Granger. Mr. Ryerson isn’t going to harm you, I wouldn’t have helped him if I thought he would. You just need to lie here and listen to him.” She moved a chair to just outside the door and closed it behind her.
“Finally, you’re not avoiding me. Oh, my friend, if you only knew how much not being able to explain, hurt. That day in the library, I bet you thought I was laughing at you.”
Tears began to form at the corners of Hermione’s eyes.
“Nothing could be further from the truth.” I took out my handkerchief and wiped away the tears. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I wasn’t laughing at you. I was happy for you. Happy that you were trying to show Ron that you’re more than just a smart girl, that you’re beautiful as well. Difficult to believe? Well, I know it is, but it’s the truth. I also know what it feels like to be laughed at for showing an interest in the opposite sex.”
Rob pulled a chair over and sat down by Hermione’s head.
“Hermione, I’m going trust you with the most embarrassing secret of my life. I think once you’ve heard it and the story behind it, you’ll keep it to yourself, at least I hope you will, because I couldn’t stand to work where it’s widely known.”
I blushed and began to breath a bit funny. Just go on and do it. If anyone in this school understands how you feel, it’s Hermione. Do it! “Hermione, I, at the age of forty three, am still a virgin. I’ve never known what it’s like to be even close to that level of intimacy with a woman.
If she hadn’t been frozen, Hermione’s jaw would have dropped open in astonishment. Forty three and still a virgin? How?
“You probably wondering how that came to be. Well, it wasn’t planned, nor am I gay. I like women just fine, thank you very much. I just can’t get a relationship going with one. Why not? Because when it comes to women, I’m still a thirteen year old boy. One that stammers and mumbles and gets red in the face if he tries to talk to a girl.”
“Part of it is due to my personality. I’m always been nervous and shy with women, but that’s not all of it. It was my parents that put things past the point where I could deal with them. It’s one thing to laugh at a five year old for playing kissy face with a girl. It’s quite another to laugh at a scared half to death thirteen year old about to get his first real kiss. I had just walked a girl home from school for the first time. She was a nice girl that lived next door to us. My parents saw me as I was about to try and kiss her. They started giggling like I was about to do the silliest thing in the world. At that moment I got so embarrassed I ran inside my house leaving the poor girl standing there gawping. She didn’t have much use for me after that. My personality, as far as girls were concerned, pretty much froze at that moment. Any time a girl showed an interest in me, I’d revert to that thirteen year old again. If I showed an interest in a girl, my parents would smirk and laugh. My dad was the worst. If we were out somewhere and I happened to look at a girl for more than a second or two, he’d be sure to make some remark like ‘Better pick up your eyes and put ‘em back in your head. Then he’d laugh about it.”
“God, it hurt. Like you, I was bright. I wasn’t as smart as you, but I was still smart enough to stand out. That of course made me the target of ‘nerd’ jokes. I expect you’ve had your fair share of those.”
Oh yes, dammit, yes. Tears began trickling out of her eyes again.
“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” I wiped the tears away once more. “Well, not many girls go for nerds and so I didn’t get much in the way of chances with girls after that. It continued on through high school. I thought it would get better after I graduated, but it didn’t. I was still stuck at that thirteen year old level of maturity and no woman wants a man who still behaves like a boy when it comes to romance. As time went on I gave up on even thinking about trying.
I thought I had gotten over it, reconciled myself to simply being alone. A couple of years before you started at Hogwarts, we had an exchange teacher from America for half a year, she taught a class on North American Magical Creatures. She found out I was a Yank and would chat with me at times. I think she liked having someone familiar to talk to. She was pretty, but I never thought she’d be interested in me as anything other than a friend. One evening the hall was more crowded than usual and I was having to hunt for a seat. She saw me and moved some stuff she had sitting beside on the bench so there was a spot for me, a tight fit, but a place. It all came back, I was thirteen again. The red face, the pounding heart, the stammering and somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear my father again, laughing. I pretended I didn’t see her and found another seat, but she knew I did. How I must have hurt that woman’s feelings.”
“That pretty much is how it is now for me. There’s a big part of my personality stuck back thirty years ago and I can’t get it unstuck. And it’s not just me wanting the physical part. If that’s all I wanted, well, that’s what prostitutes are for. I didn’t want just that, I wanted a woman that wanted me to touch her. To learn the ways she likes to be pleased and do that for her. That wanted to touch me and please me. I’ve never had that.”
“So, here I am, pouring out my embarrassment to you, so you’ll believe me when I say I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just so taken with your beauty. I was so very happy to see you take a chance and show that part of yourself to Ron, because I don’t want you to end up like me, with a wonderful part of yourself not being enjoyed by anyone, ever. Ron seems like a good fellow and I think he deserves another chance to see that splendid part of you. Don’t let a misunderstanding keep that part of you locked away. Don’t be afraid to be beautiful, Hermione.”
“That’s all I’ve got to say. I know you didn’t have a choice, but thank you for listening anyway.” I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, “Please don’t be afraid to be beautiful.”
I went outside and told the Professor I was finished.
The next few days, I had to do a time consuming repair to the owlery and didn’t see much of any of the students. I finally got finished and was sitting in the great hall having a sandwich when someone came up behind me and put their arms around me and kissed me on the neck. “Thank you Rob. I won’t tell anyone. Thank you for trusting me. I’m going to take your advice and show my ‘beauty’, as you called it, to Ron again. I just hope he'll stand up straight this time.”
I patted her arms and smiled. She let me go and left. The next week I was going around inspecting windows when I heard some noises ahead. I saw Hermione and Ron behind some bushes having a right good snogging. This time I managed to leave without disturbing them.
It was during the Easter break of her 6th year that Hermione made her way to Rob’s shack. She knocked.
“Hermione, hello! How nice to see you. What brings you to my humble abode?”
“May I come in for a few minutes, Rob? There’s something I want to talk about.”
“Certainly, come right in. Do you want anything? Pumpkin juice? Tea?”
“No thanks. I want you to do what I ask you for the next few minutes without questions.”
I was a bit puzzled at what she was on about, but I’d trusted her with my biggest secret and she had kept it, so she deserved no less from me, “Alright.”
“I want you to take your chair there and put in the middle of the floor and sit down in it.”
I moved the chair and sat down.
Hermione walked over and sat down on my lap. Then she placed my arms around her.
“Um, Hermione, not that I’m complaining, but what’s the idea? I don’t think Ron...”
“Ron and I have decided to call it quits. We gave it a fair try. We’re just meant to be friends, nothing else.”
“OK, still, what’s the idea?”
“Rob, there’s only a few more months of school left. I don’t want to try and start a new relationship right now. That leaves me available to do a favor for my good friend Rob, who helped me get through what could have been a very bad time for me. In appreciation for that, I’m going to come here at least two nights a week for the remainder of the school year and we’re going to see if we can’t, together, grow up a certain thirteen year boy.”
At this point she leaned over and kissed me.
I turned beet red and couldn’t seem to breathe quite right.
“Now, Rob, we can’t have you going into shock every time this happens, so we’ll just have to keep doing it until you calm down. By the way your lips are a little dry. Let’s fix that.” She leaned in and licked my lips.
My cock suddenly woke up and made himself known.
“Why, Rob,” a smile curved her lips, “I do believe you’re happy to see me.” She took one of my hands and put it on her breast. More kissing and some dry humping. That was all for the first night. The second night, I was treated to her bare breasts. They were as beautiful as the rest of her. Each succeeding night went a little further, until, well... ahem... we did ‘it’. She straddled me on the chair and lowered herself onto my erection. Goodbye virginity.
And that’s how I ended up with a beautiful seventeen year old girl growing up the boy inside the forty four year old man. (I’d had a birthday since earlier in the year.)
The next year, the Potter boy finally defeated Voldemort. With that pressure off of him, he finally came to his senses and realized he was in love with Hermione. She returned the feelings. I got invited to the wedding and even managed to kiss the bride without getting an inappropriate hardon.
The End.
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