Ghost Stories
"And then, when the teenagers opened the door, they found a hook hanging off the handle!" Hermione finished with a menacing, hurried crescendo that sounded a bit louder under the sheet they were sitting under.
Harry didn't look impressed or scared. Instead he quirked an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "That's it?"
Hermione sighed and dropped the electric torch she'd been holding under her chin for a "spooky" effect. "Well it sure scared the daylights out of me when I was a kid," she retorted. "Think you can do any better?"
"Why yes." He grabbed the torch and held it under his chin. "I can't see a thing."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's for affect."
Harry sighed, but kept the torch under his chin. "Ok, this story starts in a library."
"A haunted library?"
"No. Just a plain, though very well stocked library a lot like the one at Hogwarts," Harry replied patiently. "Now this library was always full even though it was presided over by an extremely strict, extremely tight laced librarian. She had hair the color of bleached straw and a wart that would put a hag's to shame. Every day she would catch people for the smallest infraction and take them by the ear and lead them away to the back where they were never. seen. again.
"So one day a boy walks into the library and looks around at all the books. He looks at the librarian then looks at everyone studying." Harry slowed down, dropping his voice to a near whisper, staring intently into Hermione's wide eyes. He had her captivated and she could tell he knew it.
"So this boy walks over to a corner of the library where no one is supposed to go, where everyone was supposed to have disappeared. He knows he'll be strung up by his thumbs or taken away by the ear if he's caught back there, but he does it anyway. He reaches under the table for something he'd been hiding for days, planning and waiting for the right moment . . . and then . . ." Hermione realized that she and Harry had bent so far toward each other that their noses were almost touching, but she didn't care.
"And then . . . AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Hermione shrieked at Harry's scream and toppled off the bed taking the sheet with her. "DAMN IT HARRY! I HATE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT!"
"It - it never gets old!" Harry choked out between his hysterical laughter.
"Are you two telling ghost stories again?" Ron asked sticking his head into their room without knocking.
"Yeah and Hermione fell for it again," Harry hooted.
"Why don't you two do normal couple things like shagging or kinky sex crap?" Ron sighed shutting the door.
"If you think you're going to get lucky any time within the next decade, you're sorely mistaken mister!" Hermione snarled untangling herself from the sheet and standing with a huff. "No kinky sex crap for you!" She vaguely realized that her declaration might have held more weight if she hadn't looked as though she'd been electrocuted.
"Aw, c'mon. I'm sorry Hermione!" Harry sat up and leaned forward to grab her wrist before she could storm away. "I couldn't help it, honest."
She glared behind her at where he held her wrist then lifted her gaze to glare at him. "Yes you could've.
Now let go. You can sleep on the bloody sidewalk for all I care!"
"Please? I didn't mean it, honest. I took advantage of something I shouldn't have and I'm very sorry. Please, don't be mad."
Hermione turned back to him and looked at his sincerely contrite face with a sigh.
"I'll make it up to you, I swear," he added with a sheepish grin. "Just think of it this way: it'll make whatever you have cooking up in that devious mind of yours that much sweeter."
She sighed one last time, caving like she knew he knew she would. She looked over at him with an evil grin that had Harry gulping in deeper regret. "Yes, I think you're right," she purred, crawling on all fours across the bed until Harry lay beneath her looking a wee bit scared.
"I'm truly going to regret that huh?"
"Most likely."
"But not tonight?"
"Not tonight."
"Shag and make up?"
"No, put the sheet back on the bed and make up."
"No kiss?"
"You can have a kiss."
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