The Sugar Quill
Author: Jack Ichijouji (Professors' Bookshelf)  Story: Special Edition  Chapter: Of Contraceptives and Snogging Commentary Part II
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Disclaimer: Do not try this at home. This sort of writing should only be done by JK Rowling and trained professional idiots.

I was dazed all throughout my next couple of classes. Fortunately, said classes were History of Magic and Divination, so no one noticed.


DRACO: The classes could have been lunch and Quidditch and no one would have noticed.

I liked Hermione. Looking back, I suppose it was obvious. Really obvious, in fact. Why didn’t I see it? Only took me five bloody years. Hell, after the Yule Ball… ("And Viktor Krum?") That bloody slimy Bulgarian git had better keep his bloody hands off of her or I’ll rip them off and shove them up his-oh, shut up, Ginny.


HARRY: Ginny makes a compelling point.


RON: No one asked you.

Anyway, no one really noticed that I was acting differently until dinner. Apparently I’m known for eating a lot, though why I was not informed of that is beyond me.

"What’s wrong, Ron? You’re not eating like you usually do," Hermione said, leaning across the table to feel my forehead. "You feel a little warm. And you’re flushed. Maybe you should go down to the hospital wing?" Of course I was flushed, she was inches away from my face. She’s been closer than that, I thought, but it wasn’t really registering.


DRACO: I'll say. You three used to run around with your heads firmly planted up each other's arses.


RON: How'd you like to have my foot up your arse?


DRACO: Keep your bedroom games for your pet Mudblood.

"Yeah, maybe," I said. "I’ll just head up to the common room and snog-snag a couple hours sleep then. Heh. Bye!" I rushed away before I could see if I could fit my entire bloody leg in my mouth. You know, if I bothered to laugh at the times you embarrassed yourself in front of Harry… not so funny now, is it?


DRACO: No, now it's hilarious!

Hermione’d set the password for the Fat Lady the day before and it wasn’t really something I was about to forget. "Free the house-elves," I muttered as I went in. I ignored the few people in the common room, although I made a note not to sit anywhere near the fireplace until I saw exactly what Fred and George had done to it.

I went upstairs to my dormitory, and, having nothing at all better to do, I got to work on a Transfiguration essay. Did I mention I had nothing better to do?


HARRY: How are we getting the same marks in Transfiguration?


RON: Dumb luck.


DRACO: Emphasis on dumb.

I got about a foot done before I decided that I would rather hug a Blast-Ended Screwt than continue. I would just do the respectable thing and finish it during lunch the day it was due. I did, incidentally, and Professor McGonagall said it was some of my best work. ("Not that that’s saying much.") Who asked you?

Harry came in after I’d been staring at the ceiling for about an hour and sat down. "Alright mate, what’s wrong?" he asked.

"What ‘what’s wrong’? Nothing’s wrong. Just realised I’m in love with one of my best friends, and I have been for years," I responded.

"Aww, I’m flattered Ron, but you’re not the Weasley I’m attracted to," Harry smirked. I hit him with a pillow.


RON: Come to think of it, Harry, who is the Weasley you're attracted to?


DRACO: Come on, Potter, we're all ears.


HARRY: Sorry, you didn't even tell yourself who you had feelings for for about four years. I think that's a nice precedent.

"Shut up. It’s Hermione."

"Of course it is. It always has been."

"Wait, you knew? And you didn’t tell me?" I was about to hit him again.

"Well, it was rather obvious Ron," he said. I would have told him he sounded like Percy, but he went on. "I mean, in second year, who did you go into the Forbidden Forest for? Who did you throw up slugs for?"

"Hermione," I muttered. Damn him for being so… correct.

There was silence for a bit. I really was getting tired, and he was half-asleep soon. "Hey Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Just how many people know?"

"Go out into the common room. Count the people in there, the people in their beds, and subtract Hermione. That covers it."


DRACO: Count the Slytherin common room.


HARRY: Most of the staff.


DRACO: Terry Boot. He's had his eye on Granger, he probably knows.


RON: I'll kill him. Which one is he again?

"Ah."

~*~

The next day, two days ago if you’re keeping count, I was able to act perfectly normal around Hermione. Of course, I had help.

"Mrn’n Mione," I grunted through a mouthful of eggs at breakfast. Laugh if you will, but my elbow was butter-free, thank you. Which is more than you can say around Harry half the time.


HARRY: What people don't realise is that the script didn't call for Ginny to stick her elbow in. She did it accidentally and they just went with it.


RON: Wardrobe was rather uppity that day, I recall.


DRACO: As if they could tell a difference in your rags.

"Don’t talk with your mouth full," she said instantly. "I see your appetite is back."

"Yeah. Guess I just needed a good night’s sleep." I took a drink of my orange juice and went on. "So, did I miss anything important after I left?"

"No. Just some late post from-just some late post." Something in the way she said it made me suspicious. Perhaps it was the way she backtracked, or the way she suddenly looked away when she said it. Or maybe it was the way she was blushing like a rose on fire.


HARRY: And just how does a rose on fire blush, Ron?


RON: It's really a sight.

"Really? From who?" I asked.

She mumbled something I didn’t pick up. "What’s that?"

She sighed. "Viktor."

"Ooh, post from Vicky." ("Nice, Ron.") Yes, I know I was a prat. Refrain from commenting until I’m done, I got a lot worse.


DRACO: Will do.


RON: Not you.


DRACO: So I can comment as we go?


RON: Refrain from commenting in general.

"His name is Viktor, not Vicky. And he never did anything to you, Ron, for you to dislike him so much."

I scoffed. Truly, he didn’t, but still. "I don’t care if he snogged Celestina bloody Warbeck. Write to whatever eighteen-year-old Bulgarian gits you want."


RON: For some reason, I could not get this line out. I kept saying "Belistina" and Gulbarian gits."


DRACO: I care about this why?


"Ron!"

"Hermione!"

"He is not a ‘git’, he’s very intelligent, and what a horrible thing for you to say!"

"Okay, Hermione, I’m horrible. Sorry."

"That’s not what I meant and you know it!"

"Never mind then!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"


DRACO: I choose to comment now.


RON: Make it quick.


DRACO: Idiot.


HARRY: That was quick.

Harry had, apparently, been watching from the sidelines for a while, and took this moment to hazard a leap into the conversation. "Good morning!" he said far more cheerily than was usual from him.

"Hmph." Hermione turned her face away from me rather sharply and greeted Harry.

I took a piece of toast and used the butter as a flavouring ingredient, and not as an elbow lubricant. Ow! Fine, I won’t mention it any more. No need to hit me.


HARRY: Such violence from such a small girl.


RON: You have no idea. She used to beat Percy up.


DRACO: Beating him up would be like kicking a puppy. Fun, but no challenge whatsoever.


HARRY: You disturb me.

"So Hermione, are you ready for the Defence Against the Dark Arts test?" Harry asked, probably trying to lighten the mood. With schoolwork. That’s how bad it was.

"I’m not sure. Professor Renard said the Erectus Charm would be on there, didn’t she? She never got through the name without giggling," Hermione responded, flustered.

"What’s it matter? You know how to do it," I pointed out. "For that matter, you know everything. That’s one of the perks of being a know-it-all."


DRACO: Your blatant flirting offends my sensibilities.


HARRY: Just how was she in the dark longer than you were?


RON: I have no idea. She's normally so bright.

Hermione didn’t bother to respond, but I imagine she rolled her eyes. She was looking through her bag for her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook, so I couldn’t be sure.

She slammed it on the table and flipped through it. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on the pages, her fingers swiftly but gently tracing their way through the words, like a swan riding on the cl-well, er, that’s not exactly important.


HARRY: There are no words.


RON: I know. Be glad most of it was cut.


DRACO: That was what was good enough to remain? Good Lord.

"Ah!" she cried, finding the spell. "The Erectus Charm. It leaves the victim standing perfectly straight, unable to bend his neck, waist, or knees."

"Well what’s the point of that?" Harry pointed out. "They can still use their wand."

"Yes, but you can get out of their way, and it’s not as if they’re about to follow you. They can’t move their legs. And there’s no counterspell for it, you just have to let it run its course."

"Well, let’s hope she’s not teaching that to the seventh years. Imagine the havoc the twins would wreak with a spell like that," I observed. Just then, the bell rang, and we ran off to be tested on the Erectus Charm and other such temporary-but-incurable curses.

You can yell at me about Krum now.

Really, go ahead.

Nothing?

The snogging will commence soon,


DRACO: Boo.


never you worry. It just takes time, and patience. Rome wasn’t built in a day you know. There’s been unresolved sexual tension for five years now; they can wait a few more chapters.


RON: Says you.


//
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