"Oomph-" Harry grunted as he found his lap suddenly filled with Malfoy. His magazine was now squeezed uncomfortably between the blonde and his legs.
"Potter! You will make him desist at once!" Malfoy commanded, pointing towards the circle on the other side of the room.
"What?" Harry questioned, looking alarmed. "What's going on?"
"Stupid Weasel is telling stupid stories."
Harry rolled his eyes. "If they're so stupid, don't listen to them."
"But Harry! It's Halloween! We're supposed to sit around, tell ghost stories and get scared out of our wits."
"You can read my magazine with me if you'd prefer," Harry sighed. "It's trapped under your large bum."
"My arse is not large!" Malfoy stood up, horrified. "Take that back! This instant!" He stomped his foot.
"Are you two?" Harry squinted at him. "Calm down, and look at the magazine with me. Then you can forget all about Ron and his stories." Malfoy made a move back towards Harry's lap. "Next to me!" Harry added quickly.
Malfoy hmphed but settled himself next to Harry. After a few moments, he began fidgeting. "Why can't you just go tell Weasel to stop?" he whined.
"His name is not Weasel," Harry grumbled. "And don't you think people will find it strange that you are asking me for help?"
"No," Malfoy replied, picking at his nails. "You have a helping people thing. And I am in need of assistance. You won't be able to resist." He batted his eyes at Harry.
Harry ignored him and looked back to the magazine. "This magazine is boring," Draco sighed as he flopped back against the couch.
"You like Quidditch!" Harry said defensively.
"Not on Halloween," Malfoy sniffed. He brooded for a few minutes before whispering eerily, "You're going to regret not helping me."
"Alright, Ronniekins!" Draco yelled as he walked briskly over to the seated group. "Your turn is over. I have a real story that will make your blood boil!"
He proceeded to make a show out of clearing his throat loudly so as to cover Ron's protests. "Once upon a time, there was a house called Gryffindor. In this wretched house, people would do awful things, like help each other with homework and play together nicely." Some of the Slytherins in the group gasped. Harry rolled his eyes and went back to his magazine. Draco was so melodramatic. He lost himself in the article on the latest broom models until he heard a dramatic groan from Ron accompanied by several scandalised gasps.
"-and that's when- are you listening, Weasel? Take those hands off your ears or you won't hear the rest," Draco scolded.
"Make it stop!" Ron groaned. "HARRY!" he called for help.
"That's when Harry pushed me onto the nearest bed in a fit of passion, covering my throat in kisses and pulling at my robes. DO YOU KNOW WHOSE BED THAT WAS, WEASEL?" Draco shouted to make sure Ron could hear. Ron was rocking back and forth, mumbling, and covering his ears.
Harry quickly jumped up, threw his magazine down, and rushed over to where Draco was. "NO! NO!" he shouted as he clamped his hand over Draco's mouth. "Er- it was no one's bed. Malfoy's just telling stories." He turned to Draco and hissed, "That doesn't sound like a ghost story!"
He could feel Draco's wicked grin behind his hand- just before he felt Draco's wicked teeth bite him. He pulled his hand away and shook it, muttering to himself.
Suddenly, he found his arms filled with Malfoy and his mouth occupied in a sinfully delicious kiss. He quickly forgot about his sore hand and the others present and returned the passionate kiss.
"This is the most horrifying Halloween ever!" Ron groaned.
Fin.