Echoes of the Soul

Hermione pushed away her large volume of ‘Advanced Theories in Potion Making’ and rubbed her eyes. She had been at it for hours but couldn’t concentrate.



She had awoken from a nightmare the previous day and was still unable to shake it off. It was a vivid dream, so real that she had tears on her face and could feel his kiss on her lips.



Each time she tried to read a passage of ‘Blending – the Subtle Technique, the Ultimate Essence’ by Severus Snape, Potions Master, dark, passionate eyes clouded her thoughts, the memory of warm arms around her frame, caressing her skin. Hermione shuddered. She had never felt that way with Ron.



No, Hermione thought, she never did feel that way with Ron. He was attentive enough and made some amazing sex noises. She had even orgasmed during sex one time, although she was masturbating as he thrust into her from behind, so it didn’t really count.



But Hermione had read about sex. A lot. And she knew it should be different. Better. Even Ginny had mentioned a night of mind-blowing sex she had shared with Harry where they had orgasmed together and felt transported to another place. Ginny had a dreamy, far-away look in hr eye. Hermione was never dreamy about Ron.



Hermione glanced at her muggle watch, a present from her parents. It was almost 6. She stopped working and walked into the kitchen, pulling out pasta and sauce and frozen garlic bread. Hermione loved to cook the muggle way, she found it therapeutic and it gave her time to think. By the time Ron was knocking on her door, she had made her decision.



‘Come in, Ron.’ She called as she ladled pasta onto two plates and set them on the kitchen table. She had purposely not set the table with candles and she poured out pumpkin juice instead of wine. This was going to be hard enough.



Ron walked into the room, his long frame loping towards her. He was holding a bunch of carnations and he handed them to her, a small smile on his face.



‘For my favourite girl.’ He bent to kiss her and she moved her lips so he landed on her cheek. He frowned a little. ‘What’s up?’



‘Nothing. The flowers are nice, thank you.’ She turned and pulled a vase from the cupboard, plonking them into some fresh water and leaving them sitting by the sink.



‘It’s been a manic week.’ Ron stated as he pulled his chair out and sat down. ‘I don’t know what’s going on. I thought once we had finished mopping up Voldermort’s leftovers, we would be in for a quiet time but its like all hell’s broken loose.’ He began to eat, shovelling forkfuls of pasta into his mouth.



‘Mmmm.’ Hermione began to eat, taking small mouthfuls. She had lost her appetite and her stomach was in a knot.



They continued eating in silence until Ron let his fork clatter to his plate.



‘Hermione. Spill. I know there’s something up, and it’s bound to be about me ‘cos if it was something else you would have been ranting about it by now.’



Ron looked at her, his face twitching a little. He recognised the signs, he knew he was going to be given the elbow. Again. They had been bouncing backwards and forwards for so long, he felt like a rubber ball. ‘Yes, Ron, I want to see you…actually, No, I’ve changed my mind’ Until the next time.



‘Ron, I hate doing this to you again…’ Hermione started, her eyes wide. She was fond of him and she hated to hurt him.



‘Yeh yeh. Save it OK?’ Ron sighed. ‘I knew before you opened your mouth. But you know what? I don’t really care any more. This is the last time, Hermione; it’s not fair on me. I won’t come back again.’



Hermione started at him. He had never answered her like that before, he usually begged her to change her mind. This was different and quite refreshing.



‘Well, that’s good, Ron. Because I don’t think I will want you to come back again. I know I’ve messed you about a bit, I’m sorry. I really like you but… it just doesn’t feel right.’ Hermione smiled a little.



Ron glared at her. ‘Right.. I see. It doesn’t feel right?’ His eyes flashed a little. What wasn’t right? It had felt all right to him, more than all right. He loved the witch.



Hermione was pleased suddenly. Ron was trying to understand. ‘That’s right. You know, the mind-blowing sex, the chemistry, butterflies in the stomach stuff… it’s not there, really, is it?’ She beamed at him.



Ron felt he had been kicked in the stomach. What a bitch, he thought. He stood up and let his chair fall back with a crash onto the kitchen tiles. He glared at Hermione.



‘It was there for me, Hermione. It was there for me.’ He clenched his teeth and took a last look at her before walking out of the door. The house shook as he slammed it and Hermione stared after him, her mouth agape.





****







LOL! Hermione thought they were on the same page, they weren\'t even reading the same book! Please review. Thanks!