Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Every Bad Sex Cliche in the Book	By : meleighme Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2967 -:- 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
Title: Every Bad Sex Cliché in the Book (Which Hermione Considerately Let Me Borrow)

Author: Leigh

Disclaimer: Not JKR. Sadly.

A/N: The sex and non-con does not happen for a couple of chapters. The warnings are subject to change in that they will probably grow in size.
Everything, in the end, was all Hermione�s fault. She had begged, really begged for him to go grab her books that she left in the library. She had stared up at Ron with her eyes all big and weepy and her hair falling halfway onto her face, looking so very upset. It was on the tip of his tongue to just tell her to shove off; he was in the middle of a chess game, but then she tipped her head downward and looked up at him, biting her lip and�

Well, then he found himself wandering the hallway with arms full of heavy books. I�m so tired my arse, he�d thought as he struggled under the weight of whatever it was Hermione found interesting to read nowadays. Probably an encyclopedia on what kind of animals inhabited Hogwarts and why that would effect her wand care. In any case, the books were stacked so high that Ron found he had to stop every few feet and look around in order to properly see where he was going. Either that or walk sideways; neither option was ideal.
The walk was relatively successful until Crabbe decided to move directly into Ron�s blind-spot and get all offended after a book dropped onto his foot. Of course, it didn�t help that Ron laughed so hard at Crabbe hopping on one foot that Goyle (presently standing in Ron�s other blind-spot) took offence and pushed him into the wall.
Then there was punching and white-hot pain over his right eye--but everything was fine because Ron was pretty certain he�d landed at least one good punch in someone�s gigantic gut. He supposed he had blacked out, and they must have become frightened of getting into too much trouble that they brought him to the infirmary. That certainly would explain the slight headache with the dull throb that was continuously pounding into his brain. Of course, it stood to reason that if it was Hermione�s fault for not having the patience to wait until morning when she could drag a bloody cart full of books behind her instead of coercing Ron to do her bidding and thereby getting his arse kicked, then it was also her fault that Ron was hearing things.

�Er, Madam Pomfrey?� Ron asked. �Did you just call Headmaster Dumbledore a meddling old fool?�

Instead of answering him like a normal person would, Madam Pomfrey continued talking with a vacant look on her face. �Of course I would never dream of denouncing our staff. I would never do anything out of the ordinary; just a simple mediwitch, aren�t I? Now hush up, and take this. Just a mild painkiller before you go.�
She grabbed a potion off of the tray on the table beside the bed and shoved it into Ron�s hand. He gave it a dubious look and tentatively raised it to his lips. She motioned for him to go on and he leaned forward. Ron took a deep breath and looked into the cup. The dark, mud-colored liquid stunk of old socks and, as he watched it swirl around, an image of a skull floated up to the top. He brought the cup down from his face and Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes. She had just begun to open her mouth when a loud bang sounded at the door to the infirmary, causing her to jump in her seat and look away. Ron dropped the cup onto the bed, spilling the liquid over the sheets which promptly began to sizzle.

Poison. He was momentarily stunned into immobility as he watched the sheets whither and grow blackened holes. Shaking his legs out of the bedcovers, Ron started to edge away from the potion. She couldn�t have been trying to poison me. I�m Ron! A Weasley! Her favorite family to work with! He was so focused on making sure no part of his skin touched the burning liquid that he gave a startled yelp when a hand grabbed onto his arm and Pomfrey resumed her slightly more aggressive fussing over him, poking and prodding at hair and forehead until she hit a sensitive spot his temple.
Ron winced and she reached behind her and grabbed a washcloth, dabbing a bit of healing salve onto the wound. �Vincent was in quite a state last night, what with you bleeding in his arms. Said you had received a good knock on your head, from falling down the stairs. I�m afraid you�ve missed the entire night.�
�I�ll bet.� Ron grimaced as she none-too-gently pressed against the main wound on the back of his head. He tugged at his arm, trying to dislodge the grip she had on his elbow. Every time he pulled slightly away, she tightened her hold just a little more until Ron gave up and tried the direct approach. �Can you let go of my arm?�

She ignored him. �Honestly,� Pomfrey looked him over once more and nodded in satisfaction. Her fingers convulsed against his arm, and her eyes darkened. �I know there�s been a fight. I�ve seen hundreds of injuries and still, children today expect me to believe anything. Well, don�t you worry about a thing, Mr. Weasley, they�ll be having detention with Filch for the next two weeks; they�re lucky I have my hands full at the moment. But oh, I will take care of everyone. If it�s the last thing I do.� Madam Pomfrey�s voice had faded into a sinister whisper by the end, and Ron was openly staring at her in astonishment.
�Er, are you feeling alright?� He tugged at his arm again and motioned down to where her fingers were digging into his skin. Madam Pomfrey breathed in sharply and jerked her hands away. She blinked rapidly and looked around as if she were just coming out of a trance.

�Oh, Ron dear. I don�t know what came over me.� Putting a hand against her own forehead, she tilted her face towards the ceiling. �You�re fine to go to class. If you hurry, you might catch breakfast. Just come back if you feel addled at all.�
Ron sat up and stared at her before hesitantly turning to get out of bed. �Do you want me to fetch Dumbledore?� She shook her head and he continued. �If you�re sure?�

�Yes. Just go.�

As he hurried away, he swore he could hear Pomfrey muttering about little beasts and ungrateful colleagues, but that couldn�t have been what she was saying. Head wound, Ron thought. I�m just out of sorts. That must be it. I�m overreacting.

It seemed inordinately bright out in the halls, and no matter how far he got from the infirmary, the stinging smell of the painkilling potions clung to him and almost made him want to skip breakfast. But, really, that was rash thinking; he was certain that, once he told Harry about Pomfrey�s odd behavior, he would be able to eat for days and he might be able to--at the very least--con chocolate frogs from a guilty Hermione.
He couldn�t help but wonder why Pomfrey would try to kill him. It didn�t make sense, so it couldn�t be true. Yet he had seen the skull and the sheets had burned.

Trying to block out these thoughts, Ron noticed several groups of girls standing in the halls, whispering into each others ears and giggling. He slowed down and glanced around in confusion. �Excuse me,� Ron reached out and tapped a random fourth year girl on the shoulder. She pulled violently away from him. �Sorry, sorry.� He held up his arms and backed away. �I was just wondering if you could tell me what was going on.�
She flipped her hair and made a snooty noise from the back of her throat. �Some of us are trying to win the affection of a daring and dashing hero.�

�Er�what does that mean?� Ron asked.
She glared at him. �He�s from Romania, you know.�
Before he could ask who she meant, she flounced off, a few of the other girls following her lead. For one sick moment, Ron thought that Viktor Krum had transferred to Hogwarts--but that was impossible. He must have been out of school for at least two years now. Troubled and more than slightly bothered by the girls that were increasing in number and volume as he walked on, Ron began to overhear snippets of conversations that seemed to all be focused on this new hero that was visiting the castle. He practically had to pry girls away from each other as he neared the Gryiffindor dorms, and just when he was getting to the point of hexing everyone--the girls suddenly dispersed, turning around and walking off like someone had blown out a candle or simply ended a spell.
The corridor seemed eerily empty without anyone in there, and Ron stopped moving. Daylight was streaming in from a window that was highly out of place; he knew there weren�t any windows this far in the castle, but then, here one was.
He must have gotten lost--something that hadn�t happen since his first year. Writing it off as an additional benefit of the head wound, he rotated slowly around to reorient himself and finally decided to double back. He turned a corner and immediately fell backwards onto the floor as he ran straight into a rather large someone who didn�t even budge.
�Well, I say,� a booming voice echoed around him, magnified by the empty halls. �I seem to have found myself challenged by a young squire here who deigns himself worthy to fight me.�
Ron looked up and found himself facing, for lack of better words, a truly dashing man. It was like Gilderoy Lockhart had combined his charming looks with the imposing figure of Viktor Krum and, oddly, had a little bit of a Malfoy edge in his face. Long honey-colored hair was flowing in the slight breeze that swirled just around this man, and his muscles looked like they were rippling without him even moving from his position.
�Fight?� Ron squeaked and then promptly coughed to cover it up. �Why would I be interested in fighting you?�
�For the Lady Fair.� The man said this as if it was the only and the most obvious answer in the world. He reached out a hand to help Ron up and continued, �You speak as though there were anything else that was worth fighting for! Nothing outshines my Lady!� He brushed off Ron�s shoulders and then pointed his right arm at the sky. A stray beam of light illuminated his hand and a second later, a sword appeared. The light shone directly into Ron�s eyes. He squinted and held up his hands to block it out.
�You get to it then,� Ron said, backing away. �In fact, just let me know which lady it is and I�ll point you in the right direction.�
The man sheathed his sword and raised one eyebrow at Ron. �I assume I need no introduction--but! I shall make one anyway.� He held his arms out in a sweeping gesture, and Ron noticed for the first time that this man was wearing a long, velvet, dark green cape that matched his eyes perfectly. �I am the Knight in Shining Armor! I am truly the most chivalrous man to walk this earth! As the great-great-great-great-great-great-greatgrandson of Merlin and as the heir to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor simultaneously, I, my dear boy, am Sir Gustav the Great!� He bowed and stood, clearly waiting for applause. Ron just stared.

�I think, Sir Gustav,� Ron began slowly. �That I need to go to a professor, maybe even to Dumbledore-the headmaster. Forget telling Harry, this should be�this is something I can�t deal with right now.� Ron�s head was beginning to pound and he resisted the urge to yell down the halls for everyone to bloody well sort themselves out and return to normal.

�What?� Gustav looked completely surprised at this response and straightened suddenly, peering down his nose at Ron. �You would leave in disgrace, run to a teacher without even trying to fight?� If Ron wasn�t certain that all this was due to the head wound, he would have thought it funny that this man was whining about him refusing to duel.

�It isn�t that I don�t find you worthy of, er, fighting,� Ron said, searching his mind for a suitable reason to get away. Instead of coming up with a plausible excuse, Ron decided to say the first thing that popped into his head. �You�re obviously a madman and I simply don�t have time right now. I�m late for class.� He closed his eyes and inwardly groaned at the answer, but the air remained still. When he wasn�t cold-clocked right as soon as he finished speaking, Ron cautiously opened one eye and found himself facing the Portrait of the Fat Lady. Startled, he stepped backwards and looked over his shoulder. Gustav and the corridor had disappeared, and Ron was now thoroughly confused. Perhaps I�m dreaming, he thought. Perhaps I�m still in the infirmary suffering from a concussion. Perhaps--

�Hello, dearie,� the Fat Lady interrupted him. �My, aren�t we looking fine today.�
Ron blinked and looked up at the portrait. �Did you see a man with�?� He trailed off and shook his head. �Nevermind. I think I might still be out of sorts from last night. I�ve just come from the infirmary.� He clarified at her worried look.
�Oh, poor soul, but you look the picture of health today.� She smiled at him.
�I see. Well. Thanks. I guess.� Ron ran a shaky hand through his hair. �Aria.�
The Fat Lady positively beamed. �Of course I will! I�d only dreamed someone would ask for me to sing! I never thought it would be you, Ron. Ron Weasley asking me to sing.� She blushed and began to fan herself. �Dear me, dear me. What shall I sing? What shall I sing?�

�But,� Ron said, frantically trying to stop her and at the same time wondering when she had ever bothered to learn his name. �I thought it was the pass--� He broke off when her face started to fall in disappointment. �Oh fine.� He sighed. �Sing away.� She looked immensely pleased and Ron resigned himself to this insanity; to this continual delusional fantasy world; to going temporarily deaf from horrible opera. When another person stood next to him and said �Aria� in a bored tone.
Absolute frustration colored the Fat Lady�s face and blotches of red dotted her cheeks.
�Well then.� She said. �I guess you must hurry on and leave me here without a backwards glance.� She swung open and Ron nodded at her apologetically while stepping through the portrait hole.
�I�ve really got to get to class,� He called out. �I�ll listen later.� The door clicked shut and Ron turned to thank the person who saved him.
�Ginny!� He exclaimed. �Oh hey! You won�t believe what�s happened today! First Pomfrey, then Gustav, and then I thought I was going to be stuck listening to songs all--�

�I�ve really got to get to class,� Ginny said in a mocking voice. �Honestly, Ron. Could you sound any more inviting? The poor Fat Lady is going to be pining for you all day, too distracted to do her job properly but that doesn�t matter to you, does it?� She shoved him away.
Ron stared at her open-mouthed. �You�ve gone off your rocker.�
�I have not.� Ginny moved away from him and faced the fireplace. Ron looked around to see if anyone would agree with him and found the common room empty. She continued, �It�s bad enough when all the girls are fawning over you, you know it�s embarrassing to the family name, but now�� she trailed off and after a minute of silence Ron became irritated.
�But now what? What are you going on about? Who�s fawning?�
Ginny glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised and a decidedly evil grin plastered across her face. �We shall see, Ron. We shall see.� She turned her head towards fireplace and fell silent. Her hair reflected the jumping flames in a peculiar manner, like she had just stepped out of the fire but her hair was longing to go inside it once more. After two minutes of Ron staring incredulously at her back, Ginny began to talk again, only this time in a much lower and more sinister voice. �Once I�m done with this place, no one will ever try and get near Ron again! They�ll learn their lessons. They�ll learn.� Then, much to Ron�s surprise, she began a long high-pitched cackle that raised the hair on the back of his neck.
Anger overcoming him, Ron burst out, �Ginny! I�m standing right here. I can hear everything you�re saying! And how did I upset you?� Ginny remained silent and Ron had to physically restrain himself from going over there right this instant and throttling her like a good big brother would. Reigning in his temper, he forced himself to walk slowly and put his hand on her shoulder in a semi-comforting manner. �It�s not�I mean, it�s not anything to do with You-Know-Who, is it?�
�Fools!� Ginny jerked away from him and ran up the stairs to the girls� dormitory.

�Straight away.� Ron stared up after her. �I�m going to go to Dumbledore straight away. After I tell Harry.� He sighed and began to go up to his own room. He must have been longer in the common room than he�d thought because the rest of the boys had already left for class when he arrived. As he dressed hurriedly, Ron convinced himself that all this weirdness was because of the knock he got on the back of his head. It was too bizarre to believe otherwise. Satisfied with his completely logical explanation--Hermione would be proud--he began to walk to Charms

Ron passed through the still-empty common room without incident, and made it very nearly to the hallway that led to the class when he was accosted by a couple of first year girls who grabbed onto his robes and reached up towards his face.

�Hold on, what�s this?� Ron tripped backwards, only just barely managing to stop himself from falling on his back in the middle of the corridor, the girls swinging haplessly from his robes. �Is there something wrong?�
�We just need your autograph!� One of the girls exclaimed. The other nodded in agreement.
�And if it�s not too much trouble, a bit of your hair.� They looked up hopefully at him.
�No!� Ron tried to back away from them, but only succeeded in dragging them along with him. He back thudded against the wall. �I don�t know what has gone on since last night, but this entire school is mad. I�I need to go to class.� The eyes of the two girls simultaneously filled with tears, and Ron was about to relent and rip his hair out just to get out of there when Gustav suddenly appeared beside him.

�Ho, there, young maidens. Should you not leave this young man alone lest he is late for class? Would you wish that he lose points and disgrace his house?� The girls looked properly chagrined and apologized as they reluctantly headed down the hallway.

�Er,� Ron looked sideways at Gustav. �I guess I should thank you for that.�
�No thanks is necessary! Just helping out a fellow dashing man. I had noticed, after you had left, that you appeared to be somewhat worthy of that title as well.�

Ron�s forehead crinkled in confusion. �The title of a dashing man?�
�Dashing man.� Gustav corrected. �I must also extend the challenge of a duel, once more.�
�Am I going to be able to get past you if I don�t fight?� Ron asked.
Gustav considered. �However unfortunate it may be for you to lose, I think not. We must battle.� Ron rolled his eyes and was about to walk away when he felt pain bloom across his cheek.
�You slapped me!� Ron exclaimed. �What did you do that for?� Before the words had left completely left his mouth, Gustav was motioning to slap him again, and Ron balled up his hand into a fist and swung it. He was rather surprised when it connected hard enough to knock the guy into the wall. Ron shook out his hand and watched Gustav sag to the floor as a trickle of blood seeped out of his mouth. My knuckles aren�t even sore, Ron mused.
Gustav�s head rolled around on his shoulders, and he blearily opened his eyes. Ron lowered his hand. �I didn�t hit you that hard.� Gustav remained still and slumped against the wall. �Come on then. Let�s fight, all proper now.� Ron brought up both of his hands into a classic fighter�s stance, but Gustav shook his head.
�Alas, there can only be one who is worthy enough to win the hand of the Fairest Maiden that resides in Hogwarts,� Gustav was talking slowly, as if the mere act of speaking was draining his energy. And actually, as Ron looked down at the man, he did seem drained--like the light around him had been dimmed. The blonde hair had even stopped flowing and was beginning to shorten and deepen in color. �And you, dear Ron Weasley. You, you dashing man, shall be the one who can overtake all.� The muscles began to shrink, his tan skin paling and freckling into a pattern that looked oddly familiar, but Gustav continued talking. �You�re the one who can charm her off of her feet and into your arms and upon a broomstick, flying deep into the setting sun.� As he finished his monologue, his nose became longer and his cheeks seemed to shift and Ron realized that the reason this face looked familiar is because it was his face.

Ron was staring at an exact copy of his own body.
Shock came over him, and out of all the questions bouncing around in his head the only thing that he could think to ask was, �Won�t that be cramped? On the broom, I mean.� When Gustav smiled at that, Ron rather absurdly thought, I am a dashing man.

�Would that I were you, and I would gladly be, but alas.� Gustav coughed and raised one hand in goodbye. �Farewell, my valiant friend and worthy competitor!� Then with a swishing noise and pink sparkles, Gustav the Great/Ron Weasley vanished into thin air.
Finding himself alone in the empty hallway, Ron said to himself, �Well, school is a bit queer today, isn�t it?� And he opened the door to Charms.

TBC
- 1
- 2
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