Summary: (Not a love story, not really.) Harry is desperate after the death of his godfather; Harry gradually worsens into insanity as he clings ferociously to Ron; Ron can't say no to the broken wizard even as Draco Malfoy realizes what is going on and takes advantage.

Notes from the Author: I am not JK Rowling and therefore do not own any part of nor make prophet from her story (nor mine, the following); though I do use her characters who I've stolen for filthy purposes.

Warning: Please bear with me and forgive the discrepancies between my story and JK Rowling's. . . also, point out discrepancies and I will amend the tale for you!

RATED M for Mature: explicit homosexual relationships between Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, and Ron and Draco malfoy

ONE: End of 6th Year

Sentimental indigo eyes opened slowly to a gradually brightening rosey-and-golden glow, and a jaw-cracking yawn greeted a small, private bedroom decorated in subtle shades of green and silver. If there was one thing those almond-shaped eyes admired, it was the nifty charm that allowed a beautiful sunrise into the otherwise deep darkness of Hogwart's dungeon dormitories.

Lurking forebodingly in one shadowed corner was a plump, dark green chair upon which was a haphhazard pile of most of Ronald Weasley's school uniform. (Later, it wouldn't surprise Ron to see that the fierce red and gold badge that declared his alligiance to a different school founderwould have mysteriously disappeared, leaving mere tatters in its place). Across from the large bed upon which rested two young wizards, including Ron, was a desk which was askew as a result of the ferocity of their previous evening engagement. Ron snorted softly as he remembered being shoved none too gently into the poor desk, which had failed to retreat hastily enough to avoid the confrontation, it being rather bulky to begin with and furthermore encumbered by school paraphernalia. Indeed Ron felt a sore spot on his lower back as he shifted his nude hips experimentally. He shuddered, too, as the silky black sheets gently brushed his thick, sensitive cock, which rested innocently below as if it had had nothing to do with Ron's current predicament. His full, reddened lips were bruised and a bit bloody as well, but he was well used to that particular dull pain and thought nothing more of it as he rolled over to gaze at the sleek skin of his partner's long torso.

'How did it come to this?' Ron thought with incredulity as he ghosted a freckled hand over the familiar pale figure lying slim and supple to his right. 'How did I end up here, of all places?' The thoughts were as close to him as his skin, a constant phrase repeated innumerable times recently. It was now the end of his sixth year attending the prestigious school of witchcraft and wizardry. A length of time which, somewhat insignificant for those who were ignorant of the magic shaded just to the left of muggle existance, had altered the redhead's reality in such a shattering way that he no longer knew what to make of himself, or his future. He was displaced, a confused counterversion of his former boisterous, Gryffindor self.

Voldemort's final harrowing onslaught, which had badly damaged Hogwarts and was now sorrowfully referred to as the Children's Battle, was fresh in the minds of all witches and wizards of Britain, none moreso than Ron who had found himself intimately entwined in the lives of several key participants. But the Childern's Battle had not, surprisingly, been the worst bit of the year for the young man.

Had Ron stolen a time-turner and gone back to warn himself of future events, he still would never have believed that he would be secreting the dungeons to end up in this treacherous bed. He thought at least he would have ended up with beautiful, bold Hermione, for Merlin's sake! She had appreciated the height and muscle that had accompanied his growth into adulthood when Ron himself had been too depressed to notice. Ron had only noticed Harry's eyes and their constant grim gaze, Harry's tight, intense focus when the Boy-Who-Lived had thought nobody else would notice (but somebody had). Ron shuddered and placed his heavy head in his large, warm hands as he recalled Harry's voice near the end of it all, that snarling, insane rough quality that had unleashed the terrible curse upon his one-time best friend and forced lover. The cruelty and malice lacing those words had ingrained within Ron's memories and would torment the innocuous youth for many years to come, even as the rest blurred slightly and rested itself down.

Ron thought sadly that he never would have believed Harry could have deteriorated to such a disturbing state either. The ferocious young wizard would not be returning to Hogwarts for seventh year, and Ron was one of few people who knew it was unlikely any of them would ever see their Savior again.

'Harry...' Ron swallowed his grief and sighed. His pain was still so fresh that he decided to think no more of his former best-friend and instead leaned over to nip at one tempting, muscular shoulder of his unlikley companion. A flash of a heated jade stare pierced his mind and stilled his body, but only momentarily. Ron angrily shook his head, dislodging the disturbing spear of memory, and worked his soft, malleable mouth down the welcoming bounty of flesh, disappearing below the sheet to nuzzle a stiffening cock which was more slender but had more length than his own.

At this point, an exceptionally sated yet eager Draco Malfoy awoke to reveal cunning, quicksilver eyes and a triumphant smile.