Ron Shouldn't Eavesdrop
Summary: How Ron inadvertently got Harry together with Malfoy.
Ron's POV
Ron stood outside the hospital room Harry was in, shocked. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. No, Harry couldn't really go along with this, could he?
"Take off your trousers, Harry," came the most haughty, annoying voice on the planet. How Draco Malfoy ever got into the healer program Ron would never know. Malfoy was Harry's healer though. The only one Harry would trust with discretion, as well as many other purebloods and politically connected. Draco was known for being a no-nonsense type of healer, he wasn't going to coddle you, but tell you the truth and the best way to deal with it. Some would say he didn't have the best bedside manner, but he was also best at keeping things silent, unlike many others that would shout the ill and wounded celebrities to the papers. He was a good healer, Ron supposed, but he was still a git. He couldn't believe that Harry and Malfoy were friends now after all the things that happened during the war. Ron knew himself not to be that forgiving. Harry, however, was as forgiving as they come. Why else would he sacrifice his life for people that turned their backs on him so much? It didn't occur to him that if Harry wasn't forgiving they would no longer be friends anymore either after turning his back on him twice.
"Yes, sir," rang out Harry's voice in a teasing manner. Ron shuddered in revulsion. He knew his best mate was gay, but it was different seeing it, or, in this case, hearing it. "A little help here, please." Harry seemed annoyed with Malfoy.
"You asked for it, Harry," Malfoy teased right back and Harry yelped as Ron heard a ripping sound. Malfoy just ripped Harry's pants right off?
A mediwitch walked by and gave him a suspicious glance. He only raised a brow at her and leaned against the door. Ron felt like he missed something in that short amount of time when next he heard, "Tell me if this hurts," from the git himself. There was no way they were having sex in there Ron kept telling himself. Malfoy wouldn't ruin his reputation like that for Harry Potter, of all people. It didn't matter that the two were both gay, friends, and did things together Ron didn't feel comfortable doing. They weren't together, so everything was all right and well in Ron's world.
"Oh, fuck!" Harry screamed out in what could have been pain, or could have been pleasure. He practically sang, "Right there! Fucking right there!" Ron groaned. He could have gone the rest of his life not knowing how Harry sounded in the throes of passion.
Ron decided enough was enough. Someone needed to stop this debacle before they got caught and it would be better from him than someone else. "That's enough," Ron cried out as he flung the door open, banging it against the wall. Both Harry and Malfoy jumped.
"What are you doing in here, Ron?" asked Harry, looking sweaty, and flushed.
Malfoy wasn't nearly as polite as he sneered and inquired, "Why are you interrupting me while I have a patient? It's rude and an invasion of privacy, for that matter." He had a way of making people feel small, but in this case Ron deserved it.
"You're not fucking in here?" Ron asked in surprise. Hysterical laughter rang out at his question.
Harry looked at him in incredulity. "I'm injured, Ron. Remember the reason we're here? I got hit by a curse in the thigh," Harry explained in exasperation.
"Do you really think I would do something like that to jeopardize my employment?" Malfoy asked in disbelief.
Looking sheepish Ron said, "Um, no."
"Good. Now get out so I can treat Harry," Malfoy commanded. Ron felt terrible and walked out of the room, intent on keeping watch for other interruptions. One of them must have put up a silencing charm when he left because he couldn't hear anything else.
What really happened...
"Take off your trousers, Harry," Draco commanded as Harry lay back on the bed. The two of them had been friends ever since Harry testified at Draco and Narcissa's trial. They hadn't truly bonded until they both found out the other was gay. When Draco became a healer and Harry had been burned by his name being found in the paper with an exclusive from one too many healers, he knew who his new healer was going to be from now on. Because Harry became his client and the discretion Draco used in regards to patient privileges many others followed and he now had a larger clientele than Draco ever thought possible. No one knew, but Draco cast a spell that kept him from revealing his patients secrets to anyone without their express permission, unless it became a life and death emergency. He couldn't tell anyone anything, no matter how hard he tried, not even under veritaserum. It was the best spell he'd ever invented. Too bad he wouldn't share it with the other healers that hated him. Draco knew how to survive and being the best at something was one of them.
"Yes, sir," rang out Harry's voice in a teasing manner. Harry struggled to get his trousers off. the curse that hit him was in his upper thigh and incredibly painful. "A little help here, please," Harry snapped in annoyance. It felt as though there was fire and knives along an invisible injury, making it nearly impossible to detect.
"You asked for it, Harry," Draco teased right back and Harry yelped as Draco pointed his wand at his leg and issued a wordless spell. Harry's pants sliced open on that leg, so the smooth, flawless skin could be seen. Whenever he looked at it himself he thought he glimpsed a redness there, but that was probably only because he was feeling the pain.
"Tell me if this hurts," Draco said as he touched the skin of his thigh first with his wand to see readings and then with his hands. Draco enjoyed touching Harry in this way and wished it wasn't because he was in pain, but they were 'just friends' and probably would remain so forever.
"Oh, fuck!" Harry screamed out as heat made his skin flush and sweat. He practically sang, "Right there! Fucking right there!" That must be where the injury is, Draco thought. That was a nasty curse and one that would spread, unseen, all over the body until the person died in pain if it wasn't treated in time.
"That's enough," Ron cried out as he flung the door open, banging it against the wall. Both Harry and Malfoy jumped.
"What are you doing in here, Ron?" asked Harry, looking sweaty, and flushed.
Draco wasn't nearly as polite as he sneered and inquired, "Why are you interrupting me while I have a patient? It's rude and an invasion of privacy, for that matter." He had a way of making people feel small and he knew it, but in this case Ron deserved it. Ron usually did.
"You're not fucking in here?" Ron asked in surprise. Hysterical laughter rang out at his question.
Harry looked at him in incredulity. "I'm injured, Ron. Remember the reason we're here? I got hit by a curse in the thigh," Harry explained in exasperation.
"Do you really think I would do something like that to jeopardize my employment?" Draco asked in disbelief. There was no way he'd hurt his career by having sex in the hospital, not after his conviction that he'd never find employment after the war.
Looking sheepish Ron said, "Um, no."
"Good. Now get out so I can treat Harry," Draco commanded. Ron left, leaving them alone. Draco raised a brow at Harry in question and cast a silencing charm.
"Do you want to?" Harry asked with a feverish glint in his eye.
"Do I want to what?" Draco thought Harry's injury might be starting to spread more and stepped up close to him.
"Fuck. Me, I mean. Fuck me," Harry answered as his body shivered with chills.
"You're delirious, Harry," Draco stated and got back to healing his thigh. Yes, he wanted to fuck Harry badly, but not here, and definitely not while Harry was vulnerable and injured.
"I'm not delirious, Draco. I've wanted to see you naked for a long time. Probably before we even became friends," Harry explained. Draco thought he might regret telling him that much, but the spells he used to heal Harry both numbed the pain while he worked and shut off his filter. At least Draco now knew his attraction was returned.
"Whenever you're fully healed and I'm not at work we can discuss this further," Draco said, silently thanking Weasley for bringing the two of them fucking into the equation. He knew it was what he was trying to prevent, but inadvertently did the opposite. Maybe he'd send him a large bottle of the most expensive Fire Whiskey if anything became of them.
Six months later…
Ron sat next to his wife, Hermione, and drowned his sorrow in a large glass of Fire Whiskey. The git himself brought it when he came over with Harry for a dinner party. As Ron stared at Harry and Malfoy sat close together on the other couch, holding hands, he vowed to never listen in to another conversation again.