TWO: the Chapter About Sex

Harry was very cautious going through the halls. He wanted to tell Ron and Hermione what had happened to he and Malfoy, but he did not want to risk encountering anyone else who might inadvertently stumble on him and piece things together.

The risk of utter humiliation helped keep him humble and quiet until he reached the Charms classroom, slipping in next to Hermione.

"Where were you, Harry? I was so worried!" she exclaimed.

Harry watched her lips carefully, noting that these were indeed the exact words that she formed. "I'll tell you later," he replied quietly. "This is pretty big."

"Will you come close to dying again?" Hermione casually wondered.

Harry whipped around to face her, but knew she genuinely could not have said that. Black humour certainly wasn't Hermione's bag, and besides, he doubted she'd be able to manage such a question in a casual tone of voice. "Erm…" An expression of concern – she's only concerned. Say what you'd say if she fussed. "Don't… don't worry, Hermione… it'll be fine." It was harder to put her off, though, now that he had heard her fears laid so bare.

"Well," Hermione said snidely, "when you say it like that, with such confidence – "

"Really," he reassured her, very happy that Hermione did not have the ability to hear the truth behind his words, as Snape or Draco now did. "It'll be fine."

Mollified, she turned back to her notes. "You've missed loads, you know."

"Will you lend me the notes?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied, "although picking up the slack for you and Ronald makes me so furious I could scream."

Harry glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye. She certainly didn't look furious; she appeared to be completely engaged in the lesson.

"If you don't like taking our notes or helping us study," he countered, "why do you keep doing it?"

She eyed him oddly. "I don't mind helping you study," she said, and it must have been the truth. "I even enjoy it sometimes. As for your notes and your homework, that'swhy the pair of you keep me around. I memorize textbooks, but you think I've forgotten first-year? People don't really change, you know." She turned her attention quietly back to her work.

Harry felt remarkably like he'd been punched in the solar plexus. "Hermione…"

She looked up from her notes, unconcerned. "Harry, I'm trying to write."

He copied her notes as she took them so he wouldn't have to borrow them, later.

After Charms, Ron made his way over to their table with a large grin. "Hey, Harry!" he greeted. "Get all of that potion out?"

"Not exactly," Harry hedged, still feeling unaccountably guilty over Hermione. It wasn't his fault what she thought, or at least, he didn't think that it was; but he couldn't seem to help it. "There's a sort of – side effect." And he told them.

Ron and Hermione eyed each other silently for a moment, as though exchanging some sort of communication that didn't require words at all. Then, Ron opened his mouth.

"That's wicked," he opined.

When Hermione swatted him, Harry knew that was what he'd really said.

"No, really!" Ron exclaimed. "You could spy on all the Slytherins and learn their Quidditch moves…"

"It isn't reading minds," Harry said. "You can only pick up on what people really mean when they say things, which is kind of like what they're thinking about and kind of not."

"So you're not hearing what I'm saying to you right now?" Ron wondered. "Crikey."

Harry blinked at him. "No – erm – Ron, I'm hearing you perfectly loud and clear."

"Well, I reckon I'm thinking about what I'm saying," Ron said with a shrug. "It's just that weird – you can't really not."

"You're irritating," Hermione said plainly, glaring at Ron.

Harry rolled his eyes, but Hermione said it in a way that was somewhat fond, so he supposed he'd let it slide instead of telling her to be more – wait. Hermione would never tell someone that they were irritating, at least not flat out.

Ron sighed deeply, put-upon. "No," he countered firmly. "You are far more irritating."

"You irritate me because I find you attractive," Hermione replied.

Harry gaped, then stifled laughter.

Ron's shoulders hunched inward as he continued the 'conversation' with Hermione. "I find you attractive," he said, "but I am mortally terrified that you do not find me attractive in return."

"I," Hermione said with a puzzled frown, "am also terrified that you do not like me – though I worry less about my physical attractiveness and more about the fact that we will run out of things to talk about after the first five minutes of our non-relationship."

"We've been friends for over five years," Ron pointed out, "and we still talk every day."

"Yes," Hermione said slowly. "Friends."

"Friends," Ron echoed, as they seemed to come to a decision. "Harry?"

"Harry," Hermione tacked on urgently, "don't you agree?"

"What?" Harry blurted. "Wait – what were we talking about?"

Hermione tsked. "I don't blame you for fazing out," she said. "Sometimes I wish I could. Ron and I were arguing again."

"Oh," Harry said. "Oh!" He stared suspiciously at the pair. "About what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly!"

"Harry, mate, weren't you listening?" Ron demanded.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly. Much to my utter horror. "Uhm. So, how 'bout those Canons?"

Ron punched him companionably on the shoulder and Hermione rolled her eyes as they headed off for Care of Magical Creatures. Harry felt lucky he had friends who had learned when and when not to press him.

Somewhat unfortunately, Malfoy was already there. He smirked at Harry when the trio arrived. "So, Potter," he said, looking as though he had already regained his mental equilibrium, "were you planning on paying any attention to me?"

"Shove it, Malfoy," Ron spat.

"I said," Malfoy repeated slowly, "pay attention to me!"

Harry glared at him. "I'm bloody well looking at you and I'm listening to you screech! I'm already paying attention to you!"

"Pay attention to me!" Malfoy shouted, now at the top of his lungs.

Harry blinked before turning to Ron and Hermione. "Look, I guess I'd better go and see what he wants." He waved at the pair, not noting that both were staring at him as though he'd lost whatever mind he'd had. He gripped Malfoy's upper arm, hard, and began striding away from the gathering class, as though Draco were an unruly child.

"Ow! Hey!" Draco exclaimed. "Cut it out, that hurts!"

Harry released the other boy a hundred yards behind Hagrid's hut, towards the Forbidden Forest. "Well?"

"Well what?" Draco hissed, massaging life back into his bruised limb. He appeared to be pouting.

"Well, you have my attention. Undivided, actually."

Draco blinked at him. "Eh?"

"You were just saying –" Harry began, exasperated. His brow furrowed. "Wait. You weren't saying that, were you?" He stared at Draco. "Is that what you mean when you bother me and Ron and Hermione?" he demanded, aghast. "Omigod, of course it is. You're a spoiled brat."

"I know you're not saying what I think you are," Draco slowly replied. "What did you hear me say?"

Harry opened his mouth before shaking his head in resignation. He cast about before finding a stick. He scratched Draco's words into the hard earth of the grounds near the Forbidden Forest.

Draco rotated a bit and peered over Harry's shoulder. "What? No! Now you're just lying to get attention."

"I think you want attention," Harry corrected. From me. He didn't say those last few words aloud, but from the horrified expression on Draco's pale features, he could guess that Draco had heard them.

"You should have been friends with me instead of that stupid Weasel," Draco huffed. Then, he paused. "This is ridiculous. We shouldn't even be talking to one another. It's like we're constantly drunk! I have no desire to be drunk in front of you. No desire whatsoever. We need to go back to class before we begin to talk about our favorite deceased pets and our secret crushes."

Nodding fervently, Harry followed Draco back to the milling group of students and stood next to Hermione and Ron.

"I am physically attracted to you –" Hermione began.

"I don't think you want to have that conversation right now, Hermione," Harry cautioned the bushy-haired girl.

"What?" Hermione wanted to know. "All I said was that I was physically attracted to Ron. Nothing wrong with that."

Harry could pretty well picture that the first and last parts of her statement were the only parts that cooincided with reality. He turned his attention to Malfoy, standing close by. Oh, well. He's heard her already; and it is bound to annoy him. "Never mind, Hermione," he said, affably. "Go on ahead."

"Thank you, I will," she replied frostily. "What do you think of that, Ron?"

"I think if I didn't feel so insecure, I'd kiss you right now," Ron replied. "Your cheeks are all pink from the wind and you look delicious."

Harry choked, but Hermione was already responding.

"It's too bad, then, that you wouldn't make a move if your life depended on it," she said with a small smile. "Because I'd enjoy being kissed by you. I've wanted to be snogged by you for ages."

In front of her, Malfoy had gone slightly green.

"I'd do more than snog if it weren't for all these people," Ron offered.

"What would you do?"

"I would throw you over my shoulder and ravish you until all the books you'd ever read fell completely out of that brain of yours."

Hermione did not look startled by this image; in fact, she appeared perfectly composed when she replied, "could you manage that?"

"I think so," Ron said, "in an alternate universe. Right now being close enough to smell you is driving all thought from my own head. I doubt I could complete a sentence right now, much less a conquest."

"That's a shame," Hermione went on thoughtfully. "Although I could see you in that sort of role. Maybe one of these days I'll tie you up and take you to the Head Girl's room and –"

"Merlin, girl, shut up and have at it!" Draco exclaimed angrily, turning on Hermione. "Go ahead and do whatever it is virgin Gryffindor prudes do in the night!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione wondered. "Wow, I keep forgetting entirely how rude you are. I can't explain it – your obnoxious nature just startles me every single time."

"What? Did. You say. To. Hermione?" Ron growled.

Harry felt slightly guilty for forcing Malfoy to listen to Ron and Hermione's lack of sex, as it had obviously unhinged him. He apologized by helping Hermione hold back the lunging Ron.

"I thank you very much for defending my honor," it seemed like Hermione was saying, "because it's very sweet and honestly it gratifies me. But I'd like you to stay right here, thanks, so don't get yourself expelled."

Harry, wrestling with the still-bristling Ron, wished Hermione really would say that aloud. It would certainly have more effect than, no, Ron! he's not worth it! – which, judging from previous experience, was what she had in fact said.

"Weasley," Draco continued with a sneer (while Harry, through the mysterious forces of telepathy, was attempting to tell him to shut up), "you might be able to knock me out, but it won't change the fact that I'll always be better than you." He paused. "Except in family, friends, and strength of will, but that's neither here nor there."

Harry blinked and nearly flinched in his surprise. Draco sincerely believed that the Weasleys were better than his own family – and that Harry and Hermione were better than his own friends – and that Ron was stronger than Draco himself was – and –

- and also that he, Draco, was the better person despite all of that?

His brain hiccoughed at the paradox and he accidentally let up on his chokehold on Ron.

Ron, startled and joyous at being held so loosely, swung wildly for Draco and his fist connected to Draco's cheek with a cracking sound.

"Ron, no!" Hermione exclaimed, dropping to examine the fallen boy, obviously forgetting entirely who he was. She took Malfoy's face in her hands and dragged up his eyelids. "Passed out cold," she commented, with a glare up at the redhead.

Ron examined his own fist. "Wicked," he exclaimed, then looked at the boy he'd dropped. "Whoops."

Harry rolled his eyes. "What, you thought you'd hit him and nothing'd happen?" he demanded irritably.

Hermione was slapping Draco's cheeks to revive him, and if she was slightly more violent about it than absolutely necessary, Harry wasn't about to mention it and incur her wrath himself. He noted that several of the other students had heard the altercation and were running off, likely to summon an authority figure.

"Off," Draco was saying suddenly, pushing Hermione away. "Bloody well off, can't you understand English?" He lumbered to his feet before stumbling; Hermione caught him by the upper arm before he again shook her off. "Sweet Merlin, girl, I'm sorry for impinging on your honor, tell your redheaded brute to back off. Forget I ever said you ought to sleep with him, I don't want the wizarding world to be plagued with superstrong, redheaded little geniuses, all right? Ow." He tentatively touched his cheek.

At that moment, Hagrid came bustling up, looking out-of-sorts. "Sorry I'm late," he exclaimed, then frowned at Draco. "Sweet Merlin, Mister Malfoy! Who's hit you?"

Ron was grinning like a fool. "It was me, Hagrid."

Hagrid was obviously trying very hard not to congratulate the Weasley boy, his lips twitching before he grimaced. "That's – that's very wrong of yeh, Mister Weasley, to do that where I could'na see it. A week's worth a' detention might make yeh think twice next time, eh?"

Ron nodded ruefully.

"Do yeh need the Hospital Wing, Mister Malfoy?" Hagrid inquired.

Draco pressed his hand to his cheek and nodded, glaring up at the half-giant; it took Harry a moment to realize that Draco had caught Hagrid's meaning every bit as clearly as he had.

"I suppose so. It hurts like hell. Weasley carries rocks in his knuckles, it must be the troll ancestry carrying through."

"Off with yeh, then," Hagrid dismissed him. "Now, today, we're going to talk a bit more about Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid went on.

The class groaned as one.

"Don't you think it's odd," Hermione whispered to Harry under the cover of Hagrid's opening explanations, "that he sort of complimented me and Ron?"

Harry frowned at her. "How so?"

"Maybe he meant something different so that's why you didn't hear it," Hermione mused, "but he implied that if Ronald and I were ever to –" She broke off, flushing. "Well, that we'd have little genius children. That was a reference to me, I – I think."

An uncomfortable tingle shot through Harry's stomach. "You heard him say that?"

"Well of course I did," Hermione scoffed. "He certainly apologizes quickly enough when hit."

"Yeah, we should keep that in mind," Ron tacked on.

Hermione glared.

Harry dismissed the strange, foreboding feeling that had briefly gripped him. If Draco Malfoy had complimented Hermione, it was in a really roundabout way.

Oh, who was he kidding? It was a world gone mad.

Draco found his way to the Hospital Wing unhappily. He would admit, at least to himself, that the thrashings he'd taken from the monstrous beasts Hagrid owned were usually minor bumps, bruises and cuts.

This was nothing compared to the pain this Weasley-monster could inflict. He had heard a sickening sound right before he passed out, followed by a horribly wrong sort of vibration had seemed to pass through his entire skeletal system. He'd never felt anything quite like it before. All opportunity to ham things up and get Weasley expelled aside, he was pretty sure his jaw was broken.

Madam Pomfrey looked up at him and frowned. "Good gracious, Mister Malfoy. I hope what I said this morning wasn't a self-fulfilling prophesy; because lo and behold, here you are… again. Might I be so bold as to inquire who's broken your jaw?"

So it was broken. Draco grimaced, then winced when even that hurt. "Weasley," he said slowly and through nearly unmoving lips. "Ronald Weasley."

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "Let me give you some advice, young man. The Weasleys are a hot-tempered bunch – mean as the weasels they're named for one moment, then sweet-tempered as puppies the next. He's probably already sorry he's hit you so hard, if not actually sorry he's hit you. That, however, doesn't fix the damage he's done."

"So?"

"So now's as good a time as any to learn how to deal with that sort. You'll encounter Ronald Weasleys all your life," Madam Pomfrey continued as she opened a jar of salve. "The trick with them is, if you find them growing angry, apologize immediately; or do something kind, and quick. Good people know enough not to trust their tempers to make their decisions for them." She winked. "Trust me, Mister Malfoy, the sting to your pride won't hurt half so much as this will." She carefully began dabbing the salve across his jawline.

"Ow, oh Merlin ouch," he muttered.

"I've got to get this numbing potion on before I can re-set the jaw," she explained.

"Eh?" It was all Draco could manage while not wanting to move his jaw and trying to stay still for the mediwitch.

"The jaw isn't broken after all, just dislocated. We're going to have to pop it back in."

"Eh?!"

"Shh, Mister Malfoy." She smiled reassuringly. "I promise this will hurt like hell."

Needless to say, Draco was not happy about his eventful day. He had missed two of his classes already, one of them his favorite class, and he'd been hit by the evilness that was Ron Weasley. Next to that, Hermione's little punch in third-year was a love tap.

Love tap. Well, he admitted to himself, it hadn't been the most Slytherin of plans to make fun of Weasley's and Granger's budding-then-dying-a-horrible-death, off-again, on-again romance. It was obviously a touchy subject for both of the already notoriously-touchy Gryffindors, and he couldn't count on the Golden Trio to hold back their third, most volatile component every time. Still, he recognized that he had been set up – that Potter could have stopped his friends, and hadn't – and he longed for reprisal.

Perhaps this was not the wisest of ideas, given Malfoy's swollen cheek; but wisdom and Malfoy seldom went hand in hand. He was a wizard of passions, and there were some things that he simply could not resist. Taunting Weasleys was one of them; it was right up there with irritating his mother's guests and kicking House Elves. He was only human. So even though his cheek still ached, and his muscles were clenching and unclenching from the exertion of re-binding one of his frayed tendons, he sneered, or tried, as sweet thoughts of revenge danced in his head.

So, smiling a very evil smile (so much as he was capable of, anyway – he strongly suspected it was still slightly lopsided and his newly-healed muscles shook from the effort) Draco Malfoy loped dangerously off to the Great Hall.

Harry, for his part, was attempting to ignore everyone around him. Gryffindor had always been an extremely tight-knit family, something he had constantly had reason to appreciate – but now, he could do with a little bit less closeness and 'sharing'.

"I want to have sex!" Lavender piped up to Parvati.

"Me, too!" Parvati answered enthusiastically.

They giggled simultanously.

"The boy should be strong and handsome!" Parvati piped.

"Famous would be good," Lavender agreed.

"He should be cute."

"Yes, cute."

"And chivalrous."

"And insatiable."

"With the sex."

They sighed and giggled again.

Harry was on the verge of scooping his own heart out with his soup spoon; mostly because, as annoying as this conversation was the first time around, it had repeated with little variation over the past twenty minutes – over and over and over again. Harry wished, more fervently than he'd ever wished anything before, that teenagers were not so sexually-fixated. Fairly half of the 'conversations' he could currently hear were based around it, sprinkled liberally with fears about parents, grades, and social standing. For instance, the discussion between Parvati and Lavendar had finally shifted away from that initial, universal topic:

"I have obtained an item," Parvati said, "that is a mark of my high social status. Admire it."

Lavendar obligingly cooed over a new shiny bracelet on Parvati's dark arm.

"Potter."

Harry looked up, startled, and said the first thing that came to mind: "Malfoy, thank God."

Draco appeared to be more than slightly startled by Harry's relieved greeting. "Eh?"

Harry flushed. "At least you'll mean more interesting things than the bimbo twins," he commented lowly.

Draco tuned in to Parvati and Lavendar's conversation and winced. "Where are Weasley and Granger?"

"They said they had something to do in the library," Harry offered, "and that they'd be here soon."

"Damn. I wanted to ridicule them."

"I'm sorry, but you'll just have to wait," Harry said, amused.

Draco tilted his head to one side in enquiry. "You do realize they're likely off snogging in some secret corner of the library. Surrounded by all those sexy books."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Why, jealous?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Terribly. Now go away."

"Poor wee Potter," Malfoy said sadly. "No one to talk the sexy subliminal with."

"I said to go away."

Draco frowned. "Here comes the dynamic duo now."

Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall, clasping hands and blushing bright pink. Harry groaned and lowered his head to the table. "Noooo," he moaned. "No, why now of all times? Couldn't they have bickered awhile longer? Now I'll hear everything. Everything!"

Ron and Hermione slid in on either side of Harry, Hermione glaring at Malfoy.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he said. "Just wondering what it's like to really kiss somebody."

Harry coughed out his mouthful of mashed potato.

"Well, Malfoy," Ron said, looking startled, "don't expect me to give you a demonstration."

"You haven't kissed before, Malfoy?" Hermione inquired.

"Well," he said slowly, "not really. Pansy tries so hard, but I think that's part of the trouble." He clapped his hands over his mouth, looking horrifed. "Potter!"

Harry rose immediately, pissed off at that inborn saviour-complex that made him instantly leap to anyone's aid, including pointy-nosed gits who'd been rude to his friends. "Relax, Malfoy," he said, unconsciously reaching out a hand to steady the other boy.

Draco slid away. "Relax? You idiot, relax?"

Harry turned to his friends; Ron was already halfway out of his seat, a puzzled frown on his face. "No, no, sit down!" he exclaimed. "Don't make a fuss, I'll take him to Madam Pomfrey." His eyes scanned the Gryffindor table; enough people were paying attention to he and Malfoy already.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. Her eyes narrowed. "What if it's a ploy to get you alone and knock the stuffing out of you?"

"This is no ploy, Granger," Draco assured her. "I'm bloody terrified. Oh, don't you see? I swallowed some of the potion!"

Ron and Hermione glanced at one another, suspicion writ clear as day on their features. Ron's dark blue eyes were like thunderclouds.

"All right," Ron said slowly. "I'd like to eat, so Harry should be able to take you alone."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

"But," he added, "since I don't trust you any farther than I can punch you, you'll have to answer a question, first."

"Bloody hell, Weasley, what?"

Ron darted a glance towards Hermione and stood, moving to Malfoy. He asked something in a low voice that Harry couldn't hear.

Draco turned a very odd shade of purple before hissing, "once a day. Sometimes twice. I'll get you for this, Weasley."

Ron, looking pleased with himself, sat.

"By the way, you broke my jaw," Draco added angrily.

Ron perked up. "Really? Wicked!… I… I mean, that was wrong, very wrong."

"Come on, Potter, let's get to Madam Pomfrey before this grows any more humiliating."

Draco and Harry strode to the entrance of the Great Hall, where Snape met with them.

"Hello," he said. "Your father is here."

Draco went sheet-white.

"We're doomed," the Potions-Master added conversationally.

A/N: Hee! I wondered about this chapter, I really did. I could've gone to a much darker, deeper place with this, but I think people in RL are a lot less dramatic than they enjoy believing themselves to be. Most of us, most of the time, are looking for food, affection, sex, approval... not pondering the fate of the universe.

It's really good to see some of the same 'faces' again in my review box. I'm sorry I haven't been responding to them individually; it is difficult during the holiday season! I still appreciate them though, and love reading them. Thanks!