Disclaimer as for previous chapters. In case you haven't noticed, this story contains a boy having an intimate physical relationship with another boy.
Oh, yeah. If you want to achive this, just let me know where it's going.
Thanks for all the reviews, more specific thanks and responses at the end. It's a bit chaste at the beginning, but watch out for coarse hilarity at the end.
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(In the Staffroom.)
"Honestly, Albus, it's worse than when Sirius and Remus were here. I thought their relationship had broken all the boundaries, but this...At least Sirius and Remus were in the same house, so there were no nasty incidents. Like that audio recording charm." Minerva McGonagall shuddered.
"Yes, that was a little embarassing." Albus's voice was amused. "Severus, did they go through with what Mr Malfoy suggested they do in Potions?"
"No." snapped Severus. "I've been keeping them as far apart as possible."
"Just don't do any of the more, er, risque potions on the curriculum for a while. I imagine the Slytherins could think up some pretty evil uses for a wilting potion, for example."
"The students of my house are just as trustworthy as those from other houses, Albus." retorted Severus.
"Well, the Gryffindors would possibly go for something less cruel, but more embarassing, like a potion that makes them touch constantly." interjected Minerva.
"That effect wouldn't be very noticeable, however." said Albus, dryly.
"Yes, I know." sighed Minerva. "Ron Weasley is as bad as Sirius when it comes to public displays." Severus snorted, his expression implying that 'bad' was too mild an adjective to apply to Sirius's antics, and definitely not the word he would use to describe Ron.
"Well, they haven't yet been caught inside one of the pumpkins at the Halloween party." Albus frowned. "Though that's probably because we haven't had a Halloween party yet."
"I devoutly hope that that particular story has never been told to Ron." said Minerva.
"I think that the imaginations of Mr Malfoy and Mr Weasley are active enough without needing recourse to other's examples. Well, Minerva, Severus, I think that all we can do is hope that over the Easter holidays they settle down and things can go back to normal when the other students return."
"They're staying here?" asked Severus, on a note of horror.
"Yes, Malfoy was quite emphatic. He does not want to go home." Severus thought of Lucius's likely reaction to his son's recent antics, and concluded that, in his shoes, he would not go home either. Albus continued: "I understand from Virginia Weasley that they will be invited to The Burrow for dinner one evening." Severus thought of facing the Weasleys en masse, and was not certain that he wouldn't rather face Lucius.
"So, let's just keep our eyes and ears open in case of further practical jokes, and otherwise stay out of it."
----
Any hopes the professors might have harboured that things would calm down over the next few days were cruelly smashed by a very public spat between Ron and Draco. In the entrance hall, after breakfast, Ron paused to confirm their regular arrangement to go for a walk. He found Draco looking uncharacteristically annoyed.
"What's wrong?"
"That bloody Zabini. Told me that you and I are showing distinct signs of coupleness."
"Well, I hate to have to point this out to you, but we have spent almost every night together for the last three weeks, which perhaps implies that we are a couple."
"Aaargh! We are not a couple! We are not lovebirds, cooing and smoothing each other's feathers!"
"Oh? I'm just a temporary, peripheral annoyance, then?"
"Dammit, Weasley, don't put words into my mouth."
"Fine, Malfoy, don't you think you should explain to me exactly what kind of relationship we have here, then?"
"I don't know! And don't use that voice on me, you know I hate it."
"Since you seem to be denying that I am your lover, I think it shouldn't matter to you what sort of voice I use."
"I'm not denying it. Of course you're my lover, the whole damn school knows, right down to exactly how I like you to strip me naked, don't you think I'm feeling a little pressured here?"
"You're pressured?! Of course, you're the only one who feels any kind of burden, aren't you?"
"You're doing it again!"
"What? Talking to you? Aren't I allowed to do that under the terms of our non-relationship?"
"You're ignoring what I'm trying to say."
"Then don't talk in riddles."
"Fine. Weasley, how's this for direct. I want you. I want to be with you. But I don't want to be like every other goddamned smug, self-satisfied couple having a secure and boring relationship, showing signs of coupleness!"
Ron grabbed Draco and kissed him furiously, then pulled back and stared down at him. "Does that feel secure and boring?" he snarled, shaking Draco. "What about this?" Ron's lips descended on Draco again, and Draco snarled back, kissing back with as much anger and passion as Ron. "Do you think I'm smug about this? Do you think I want to fade into humdrum domesticity?"
"No!" shouted Draco. "I don't!"
The kiss immediately changed, and became soft and sweet and tender. Ron gently smoothed Draco's hair back, gently cradled Draco against his body. For his part, Draco pressed against him and wrapped his arms tightly around Ron's body. Neither heard the wolf whistles from the crowd that was watching them. At last they pulled back, and Ron buried his face in Draco's hair, whispering softly in his ear: "We don't have to be like everybody else, Draco."
"I know, I was just angry."
"So was I."
"Yeah, I could tell."
"You're really sexy when you get angry."
"Aren't I sexy all the time?"
Ron's reply was halted by Seamus's excited voice behind them.
"Hey, Ron, that was hot. You two have really fantastic fights." Without breaking apart they turned to look at Seamus, who was hopping from foot to foot in his enthusiasm. "Do you ever wrestle?"
"Why would we want to answer that, Seamus?"
"Because if you did wrestle, you could invite me to watch."
"Is that supposed to be an reason in favour of us telling you, Finnigan?"
Ron closed his eyes. When he opened them again he noticed the sizeable crowd that seemed to have gathered around them while they were arguing, and were now dispersing slowly, as if hoping that something more would happen. Seamus stepped a little closer and lowered his voice.
"So... Have you done that thing with the strawberry syrup?" Ron just closed his eyes again, but snapped them back open as he heard Draco say:
"Oh, yeah. I couldn't wait too long before fulfilling that little fantasy."
"And?" Seamus was virtually panting with eagerness and anticipation.
"And, it was so erotic that if I told you about it I would then have to drag Ron off somewhere and fuck him senseless before class, because even remembering it drives me wild."
"What if you tell me about it after class?"
"What if we act it out for you?" asked Draco, in his very best seductive voice.
"Would you?"
"No."
"You're so hard-hearted." said Seamus, looking bitterly disappointed.
Ron smirked, and leaned down to whisper in Draco's ear :"No, we're just-" His words were cut off by Draco's mouth, as he kissed him one more time before reluctantly disentangling himself.
"Time for class." he announced. "I'll see you at the regular time, Ron."
Seamus walked beside Ron to their first class. He kept looking at Ron and half opening his mouth, as if he wanted to say something.
"What, Seamus?" snapped Ron, at last.
"What?"
"What do you want to ask me?"
"Oh. Well. That. Hmm."
"Just spit it out, Seamus."
"Well, er. Has Malfoy really done that thing with strawberry syrup?"
Ron favoured Seamus with a particularly quelling look.
"Well, I'm curious."
"Can't you find someone else to be curious about?"
"Yeah, but there's just something about you and Malfoy together that just makes me go all hot and cold and shivery all over, you know."
"I didn't need to hear that, Seamus."
"Right. Er. So, tell me, what does he look like in opera length silk gloves and a dog collar?"
"What? What do you know about that?"
"You mean you've done that? I was just hopeful." Seamus looked up at Ron's forbidding face, and nervously scuttled into the classrooom. Ron followed.
----
The Slytherins had been strangely restrained lately, sometimes even stopping themselves from making embarrassing comments about the scene that had occurred when Filch found them in the trophy room. Ron had even begun to hope, faintly, that the Slytherins might have decided stop making fun of them.
The day after the fight, Draco passed Ron in the corridor outside the library, and pulled him into a convenient niche. They both felt a funny little tingle as they disappeared from sight. Draco kissed Ron lingeringly on the lips.
"Draco."
"Yes, Ron." Draco kissed Ron's cheek, then trailed little kisses down his jaw.
"We have class in two minutes."
"I know." He now kissed Ron's nose, then his lips again.
"So, we don't have time for this." But Ron couldn't help himself, he kissed Draco's forehead, then his nose, then his lips.
"Just a few chaste kisses." Draco assured him, tilting his head up so that Ron could kiss his throat.
"I know you, Malfoy. You'll have my clothes off me in another thirty seconds."
"No, I'm being restrained." Draco kissed Ron's ear, then his cheekbone..
"Oh, so this is just an affectionate interlude?" asked Ron, planting a tiny kiss on the corner of Draco's mouth.
"Yep." Draco took Ron's hand from where it was lying on his waist, and kissed the inside of his wrist, then each fingertip on turn.
"Ok, then." smiled Ron, taking Draco's hand in turn and kissing the palm before turning it over and dropping a courtly kiss on his knuckles. Draco smiled.
"See you at the usual time for a walk."
"I'll be looking forward to it."
Draco kissed Ron one more time on the lips, then on the hand again, before stepping out of the alcove. The corridor was empty except for a bunch of Slytherins, who looked furtive and shifty, but didn't say anything, much to both Ron and Draco's surprise.
Draco's next class was Transfiguration. He slid into his seat next to Crabbe and Goyle, who were gazing into each other's eyes and whispering. Draco slid one glance at them and looked quickly away. Someone would have to tell Crabbe that pink satin camisoles with little roses on the neckline were just not meant to go with hairy chests and partially unbuttoned checked shirts.
As Professor McGonagall explained the transfiguration they would work on today, Draco noticed that he was getting watched, very covertly but intently, by the Slytherins. Pansy Parkinson was parctically making a nervous twitch out of the way she looked down at her book and then up at Draco. He ignored them and concentrated on the lecture.
As he reached for his wand to perform the transfiguration, he noticed a red mark on his knuckles, and absently rubbed at it. It didn't shift. He frowned slightly, and took a closer look. The mark was growing steadily redder, and taking on the distinct shape of - no, it couldn't be - a pair of lips. Draco became aware of stifled giggles from the Slytherin side of the classroom, and looked up, frowning. The giggles coalesced into smirks, sneers, and derogatory laughter. Draco looked down at his hand again, then turned it over. A second red mark had formed on his palm. A nasty suspicion travelled through his mind and settled to churn in his stomach. Without needing to look, he could tell that each of the little kisses Ron had planted on his face just a few minutes before had turned red. The laughter from the Slytherins was spreading, and the Hufflepuffs were beginning to notice. A few of them began to giggle too. McGonagall noticed at last, and a pained expression crossed her face. She firmly restrained the urge to laugh, and managed to inject a severe note into her voice.
"Mr Malfoy, you appear to have lip marks all over your face. Since I cannot imagine even you and Mr Weasley doing this for fun, I am led to the unfortunate conclusion that someone has hexed you." her gaze, outwardly calm, scanned the classroom. "I would like one of the Hufflepuffs, yes, Justin, you'll do, to go and find Mr Weasley. He should be having History of Magic right now. I would then like the student responsible to confess and reverse the charm."
The entire class stared at McGonagall, then at Draco's face, now a delightful shade of pink with red lip marks as contrast. The titters and giggles redoubled, much to McGonagall's displeasure. Justin arrived back with Ron a few minutes later. Ron had been unluckier than Draco. History of Magic was so boring that the slow reddening of Ron's skin had been noticed almost immediately by the entire class, who then indulged in stifled giggles and sniggers and sidelong glances to their heart's content. Professor Binns noticed nothing, and droned on complacently. Seamus blatantly stared, and leaned over to ask how far the kisses went. Ron blushed pink from all the scrutiny, even though he could only see the ones on his hand. Justin's arrival had caused a slight stir, especially when he hissed a brief explanation to the nearest student, who passed word over all the classroom. Ron almost ran to the Transfiguration class, dreading meeting another student on the way, despite being aware that the story would be all over the school before the next class.
Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had got the whole story out of the Slytherins, who finally admitted that one of them had cast the charm on Draco and Ron as the pair had ducked into a niche. Professor McGonagall, while privately very amused by the incident, gave detentions to each Slytherin, except for Malfoy, the obvious victim, and Crabbe and Goyle, who had been snogging in the classroom at the time, their alibi verified by a sickened McGonagall herself. The charm was actually originally designed as an adultery detector - you could cast it on your partner when you suspected that they would be meeting a lover and all the traitorous marks would show up. It lasted for a day, unless lifted by the caster.
"Who cast the spell?" asked McGonagall. The Slytherins looked at their feet and smirked.
'A day without being able to kiss without coming out in red lip marks?' thought Malfoy in some alarm, momentarily distracted from the sniggers and giggles by the thought of not being able to kiss Ron, who arrived at that moment. McGonagall spoke with them briefly, then sent them off to Professor Flitwick's office. The Slytherin's continued to smirk and snigger as Ron and Draco left the room.
Taking their usual afternoon 'walk' was out of the question since they were still under the effects of the charm. Draco turned up instead with his chess set, and they retreated to the Gryffindor common room, where everyone seemed torn between indignation at his presence and hilarity over their lip-printed faces. Draco and Ron fought hard over every square on the board, and the game, interrupted by dinner, finally stalemated at about 10pm. Draco leaned back in his chair, looking exhausted.
"I haven't had anyone give me such a good game since I came to Hogwarts."
"Where have I heard that said by those lips before?"
"Don't tempt me, Weasley, or you'll have to spend half of tomorrow even redder than you are now."
"You're so sexy when you're resisting me, Malfoy."
"Don't think you can get round me by flattery either."
"I only want to get on top of you, not round you."
"Well, thanks to the evil minds of my housemates, you won't be going anywhere near me until tomorrow."
Ron frowned, and looked down at the board where the queens and kings still glared at each other, unable to move.
"I've been thinking" he said slowly, "of a good way to pay back your housemates."
"Fantastic. Will it involve lots of pain and humiliation?"
"Definitely humiliation."
"Great. Are you going to share?"
"Of course."
----
The Revenge, as Ron and Draco called it, was prepared quickly, so they could do it before the Easter holidays. It required some serious potion brewing and some magical modifications to walls in various common rooms. Draco and Ron had debated long and hard over the trustworthiness of their accomplices, but eventually everything was in place. Seamus had demanded a description of the strawberry syrup scene in exchange for his involvement, which they had eventually promised to provide for him after The Revenge, and close attention to the other recent victims of Slytherin attempts at humour, plus some judicious bribery, had provided the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff accomplices.
In the Slytherin Common Room, Draco turned up with some bottles that definitely didn't look like butterbeer, and proposed burying the hatchet with his housemates. When asked, rather sneeringly, by Pansy Parkinson, where 'his beloved Weasel' was, Draco put on an aggrieved face and said he was doing homework with that appalling mudblood Granger. Everyone cast off suspicion, and took a healthy slug from the various bottles, except for Crabbe, Goyle and Draco, who carefully drank only from their own bottles. At last, when the defences of the Slytherins were down low enough not to suspect subterfuge, Crabbe and Goyle suggested a game of Truth or Dare. Slurred enthusiasm was evident, and the fun began. No one noticed that Draco had absented himself. In fact, he was present, with a kind of magical video camera under Harry's invisibility cloak (liberated for the evening by Ron). He watched with delight as the effects of the Total Uninhibition and Truth Potions became evident.
"Truth or Dare?" asked Crabbe. Millicent Bullstrobe thought for a few moments.
"Dare." she said, at last.
"I dare you to pretend that chair is Severus Snape and make love to it." Millicent promptly crawled over to the chair and began licking the bottom of the leg in an unrefined and distinctly unerotic sort of way. She worked her way up until she was pressed against the chair, and began to rub her large body against it, uttering moans and little pants of "Oh, yes, Professor, yes." At last the chair fell over backward and she collapsed on the floor on top of it. She crawled back over to the group and took another large gulp of Uninhibiting and Truth causing vodka.
"Truth or Dare?" she asked Blaise Zabini.
"Truth." he said in a very bored sort of way.
"What would you do if you had Hermione Granger handcuffed naked to your bed?"
"Well, started Blaise, showing more enthusiasm, "first, I'd take off all my clothes, because it would be too difficult otherwise. And then I'd climb onto the wardrobe opposite the bed, clutching a feather duster, and leap off onto the bed, shouting 'Geronimo!'." He paused for a few moments, lost in pleasurable contemplation. "Then, I'd rub her all over with the feather duster, my special pink and green one, then rub her again all over with my come, since I don't think I'd be able to last very long at the sight of my feathery friend sliding around all those lovely curves, and then I'd just fuck her senseless all night." He sighed, and drifted off into the rest of the fantasy with a wistful smile.
"Truth or Dare?" Goyle asked Pansy Parkinson, since Blaise was incapable of speech.
"Dare." she replied, still a little weak with merriment, swallowing more of her drink.
"I dare you to rub yourself all over with Blaise's feather duster." he said, summoning it from it's place on Blaise's bed.
Pansy stroked the duster lingeringly and gently caressed her face with it. Then she drew it down her body, undoing the buttons on her robe as she went, until she could slip it off her shoulders. The duster continued to move in small circles over Pansy's thighs as she slowly brought it back up her body. She slid the straps of her dress down, and stripped to her petticoat, never stopping the movement of the duster. Blaise had returned to awareness now, and was staring at the show she was putting on with his mouth open. At last he snapped, and dragged her to the floor, the duster pressed between them as he kissed her and attempted to pull off his robes in a hurry.
"Oh, yes, Hermione, let me touch you with my magic feather, let me cast my spell on you, you know you'll love it when I-" His voice was cut off as the duster slipped and jammed in his mouth. Pansy was writhing beneath him.
"Oh, Neville, you know it feels so good when you tear my clothes off and - arrgh! - oh, gods yes, Neville, you demigod of porn, you know how I like it..."
Millicent began wordlessly taking off her clothes and rubbing against the chair again, and Crabbe and Goyle were already snogging on the couch. At this point, Draco stopped the camera and slipped out of the Common Room, torn between a desire to laugh until he cried and an equally strong desire to be violently sick. He had left the bottle of doctored (with a memory erasing potion, effective from twelve hours before consuming the potion to one hour afterward) hangover cure in a prominent spot, and he knew that Crabbe and Goyle would, if they stopped making out long enough to remember, force feed everyone a dose. Draco made his way to his bedroom where Ron would join him.
Meanwhile, in the other Common Rooms, the accomplices had been busy. At the signal, they had activated the screens on the walls, helped the prefects to herd the younger students into their dormitories, and provided popcorn. They remained alert for anyone who looked like they were going to be sick, casting anti-nausea charms when necessary. The older students watched the entire thing torn between shock and indecent laughter.
Having coordinated the activation and deactivation of the screens, Ron made his way to Draco's room and found him on the bed in the dark.
"That was great." he enthused, sliding onto the bed and bouncing gently. "Although Hermione and Neville will probably never speak to me again." Draco sat up and kissed him, very gently, easing him back onto the bed. He pushed Ron's arms up, out of the way, and suddenly Ron felt some metal round each wrist and a small click. He tried to pull away from Draco, but it was too late. Draco sat up, and lit the candles with a wave of his wand, drinking in Ron's incredulous face as he pulled against the handcuffs.
"Don't pull against them, Weasley, you'll just rub your wrists raw, and I wouldn't want you to do that until you've really got a reason for it." He used another spell to remove Ron's clothes, and soon they were both naked in the moon and candlelight.
"What's all this for, Malfoy?"
"Since we've got to tell Finnigan about the strawberry syrup scene, I thought we'd better do it again to refresh our memories."
"But you didn't tie me up, last time."
"No, and you squirmed so much the effect was ruined and the house elves gave me a lecture about ruining my sheets. This time -" he pushed Ron's thighs apart to sit between them, and pinned his knees with a charm, "-I want to make sure the experience is perfect."
"Any experience with you is perfect." Ron's voice was throaty, and he had grasped the bed rail with his hands to steady himself.
"Well, this will be more perfect than normal." Draco's smile was pure evil, as he reached for a small bowl containing a tiny metal spoon. "You know what comes next, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"The syrup trails from one freckle to another like running drops of fire..."
"Like this?"
Ron tried to squirm ineffectually. "Yes, like that." he gasped as the tiny spoon made contact with a freckle on his neck and slowly trailed syrup to one on his collarbone. Draco continued to apply the syrup, his face a mask of concentrated desire as he created tiny pink paths over Ron's chest and stomach.
"Do you know what you look like?" asked Draco.
"No..."
"I'll have to tell you then." Draco paused in his ministrations, drawing an immediate protest from Ron. "You look like the strawberry ripple ice-cream I once had in Muggle London. It was a hot day, and it melted all over me. I had to keep licking it off my chin, off my hands, off my nose... it was wonderful, so sweet and light on my tongue." He picked up his little spoon again and made a small link on Ron's thigh, again concentrating fully on his task. Draco ran the small lines of pink all over Ron's inner thighs, ignoring, with an effort, Ron's little twitches and rapid breaths. At last, he put down the bowl and surveyed his handiwork. His smile was possessive and dangerous as he reached out one finger to rescue a small drop that was trying to run into Ron's belly button. He sucked the finger into his mouth and groaned at the taste of Ron mingled with the taste of strawberry and sugar.
"You taste like sweetness and salt and summer days and irresistable sex." he growled. "You know what comes next."
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"You lick it off."
"How do I lick it?"
"Slowly, oh so slowly, like you're drawing sustenance from my body."
"And then?"
"And then you nibble up any little bits you've missed, and then, if I'm really lucky, you finally get round to giving me what I want."
"Which would be...?"
"You. Anyway you'll take me."
"I'm delighted, as always, to oblige you."
"Then stop using that mouth for talking."
Draco lowered his head slowly to the highest point of syrup on Ron's neck, and followed it down. He roved over Ron's body in an erratic pattern, almost as erratic as Ron's breathing underneath him.
"Gods- Draco, more."
"More what?"
"Use your teeth."
"Like this?" a slow scrape of teeth over sensitive flesh was met by a hiss of agreement. Draco gripped Ron's hips as his tongue and teeth traced over Ron's thighs, and Ron thrust his hips up as much as he could, given his restrained position. Draco was slowly losing it, and he barely had enough control, when finally finished with the syrup, to prepare Ron carefully. Ron was incoherent against the sheets, hands gripping the bed rails with desperately clenched fingers, mouth gasping as he pled with Draco to take him. Despite Draco's best attempts at slowness, it was over quickly for them both. He released Ron from the spell restraints and the handcuffs, and was pulled down for a slow kiss.
"We're going to tell Seamus about that?" Ron's voice was sleepy and dazed.
"That was the deal."
"He'll explode."
"Probably." Draco kissed Ron and curled around him. "But probably so will we."
"Still, talking about it won't be as great as actually being in it."
"Hell no, and if he thinks he's ever going to see it live he's got another thing coming."
"Bad choice of words, as Seamus would say." Ron's voice continued to fade, and he kissed Draco one more time they drifted off to sleep, wrapped securely around each other.
----
Breakfast the next morning was a riotous affair. Crabbe and Goyle had broken off their torrid lovemaking enough to give each traumatised player a draught of hangover cure, and by the time they had showered and dressed all memory of the night before had been erased, along with their hangover. They walked down to breakfast in a group, completely back to their public selves. The accomplices had warned everyone, very discreetly, that the Slytherins had been memory charmed by the Professors, who considered their behaviour a disgrace to the school, so there was no point actually asking them questions. Therefore, nobody did. They just watched from a distance, laughed, pointed, and quoted bits. The Professors were suspicious, but unable to pin down what had happened to cause all this hilarity.
Ron was right, neither Neville or Hermione seemed to want to talk to him, even when he apologised for their inadvertant involvement.
"Look, how was I to know that your names would come up?" he asked, in exasperation.
"Yes," drawled Draco in agreement, "I had no idea that my housemates had torrid fantasies about either of you."
"You're not helping here, Malfoy."
"Would it help if I added my heartfelt apologies to Ron's?"
"Nothing will help."
Ron gave up. He and Draco were thoroughly enjoying the Slytherin reaction to The Revenge, even though the Slytherins themselves had no idea what was going on, or why everyone was staring at them, or why they had these peculiar bruises everywhere, or, in Pansy's case, feathers where there shouldn't be any feathers. Watching the rest of the school was equally amusing, as many students were quite inventive in their reactions. Hermione and Neville came in for a fair bit of heavy handed sympathy, which didn't do anything to stop them both from a strong feeling of ill usage. Ron had noticed, however, some speculative glances in Neville's direction. Ron and Draco ate breakfast together that morning, linking their hands under the table and smiling with the unmistakeable glow of those who have righteously avenged themselves and indulged in eminently satisfying sex.
Just as satisfying was the aftermath of the strawberry syrup story, which they had told to Seamus in the Gryffindor Common Room before breakfast. He had been left dazed and speechless, and had created a miniture diversion by immediately pouncing on Harry as he foolishly walked past, suspecting nothing. Harry had been to shocked to respond, then had, to everyone's surprise, kissed back. Seamus, having had two devastating experiences that morning, promptly fell over, and was even now incapable of talking.
Life was good, mused Ron, feeling Draco's hand on his thigh. Life was great. He smiled brilliantly at Draco, and a shaft of light from the high windows enveloped them as they shared a tender kiss. Life was great. Life was just how it should be.
----
There you go, Taiorami, I wrote the strawberry syrup scene. I hope you like it. Yes, there'll be more Seamus and we will fully explore what's going on with Harry's mind too. There'll be something weird and twisted, don't worry. Next chapter will contain the Weasley family too, in all their technicolour glory. Ha, I bet the twins are dreaming up something nasty. Again, thanks for all reviews, and all signed reviews will be responded to by reviews of your stories - if I can find you. I can't find some of you in the authors directory. Sorry about that.
I hope to get the next chapter out next week, before I go on holiday for two months and then to a new job in a new city. 200 points to your house if you can guess what my job is. 500 points if you can guess where I'm travelling (hint, it's the same country as I live in, but the country I live in is not the same as the one I was born and grew up in. It's a big country).
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Oh, yeah. If you want to achive this, just let me know where it's going.
Thanks for all the reviews, more specific thanks and responses at the end. It's a bit chaste at the beginning, but watch out for coarse hilarity at the end.
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(In the Staffroom.)
"Honestly, Albus, it's worse than when Sirius and Remus were here. I thought their relationship had broken all the boundaries, but this...At least Sirius and Remus were in the same house, so there were no nasty incidents. Like that audio recording charm." Minerva McGonagall shuddered.
"Yes, that was a little embarassing." Albus's voice was amused. "Severus, did they go through with what Mr Malfoy suggested they do in Potions?"
"No." snapped Severus. "I've been keeping them as far apart as possible."
"Just don't do any of the more, er, risque potions on the curriculum for a while. I imagine the Slytherins could think up some pretty evil uses for a wilting potion, for example."
"The students of my house are just as trustworthy as those from other houses, Albus." retorted Severus.
"Well, the Gryffindors would possibly go for something less cruel, but more embarassing, like a potion that makes them touch constantly." interjected Minerva.
"That effect wouldn't be very noticeable, however." said Albus, dryly.
"Yes, I know." sighed Minerva. "Ron Weasley is as bad as Sirius when it comes to public displays." Severus snorted, his expression implying that 'bad' was too mild an adjective to apply to Sirius's antics, and definitely not the word he would use to describe Ron.
"Well, they haven't yet been caught inside one of the pumpkins at the Halloween party." Albus frowned. "Though that's probably because we haven't had a Halloween party yet."
"I devoutly hope that that particular story has never been told to Ron." said Minerva.
"I think that the imaginations of Mr Malfoy and Mr Weasley are active enough without needing recourse to other's examples. Well, Minerva, Severus, I think that all we can do is hope that over the Easter holidays they settle down and things can go back to normal when the other students return."
"They're staying here?" asked Severus, on a note of horror.
"Yes, Malfoy was quite emphatic. He does not want to go home." Severus thought of Lucius's likely reaction to his son's recent antics, and concluded that, in his shoes, he would not go home either. Albus continued: "I understand from Virginia Weasley that they will be invited to The Burrow for dinner one evening." Severus thought of facing the Weasleys en masse, and was not certain that he wouldn't rather face Lucius.
"So, let's just keep our eyes and ears open in case of further practical jokes, and otherwise stay out of it."
----
Any hopes the professors might have harboured that things would calm down over the next few days were cruelly smashed by a very public spat between Ron and Draco. In the entrance hall, after breakfast, Ron paused to confirm their regular arrangement to go for a walk. He found Draco looking uncharacteristically annoyed.
"What's wrong?"
"That bloody Zabini. Told me that you and I are showing distinct signs of coupleness."
"Well, I hate to have to point this out to you, but we have spent almost every night together for the last three weeks, which perhaps implies that we are a couple."
"Aaargh! We are not a couple! We are not lovebirds, cooing and smoothing each other's feathers!"
"Oh? I'm just a temporary, peripheral annoyance, then?"
"Dammit, Weasley, don't put words into my mouth."
"Fine, Malfoy, don't you think you should explain to me exactly what kind of relationship we have here, then?"
"I don't know! And don't use that voice on me, you know I hate it."
"Since you seem to be denying that I am your lover, I think it shouldn't matter to you what sort of voice I use."
"I'm not denying it. Of course you're my lover, the whole damn school knows, right down to exactly how I like you to strip me naked, don't you think I'm feeling a little pressured here?"
"You're pressured?! Of course, you're the only one who feels any kind of burden, aren't you?"
"You're doing it again!"
"What? Talking to you? Aren't I allowed to do that under the terms of our non-relationship?"
"You're ignoring what I'm trying to say."
"Then don't talk in riddles."
"Fine. Weasley, how's this for direct. I want you. I want to be with you. But I don't want to be like every other goddamned smug, self-satisfied couple having a secure and boring relationship, showing signs of coupleness!"
Ron grabbed Draco and kissed him furiously, then pulled back and stared down at him. "Does that feel secure and boring?" he snarled, shaking Draco. "What about this?" Ron's lips descended on Draco again, and Draco snarled back, kissing back with as much anger and passion as Ron. "Do you think I'm smug about this? Do you think I want to fade into humdrum domesticity?"
"No!" shouted Draco. "I don't!"
The kiss immediately changed, and became soft and sweet and tender. Ron gently smoothed Draco's hair back, gently cradled Draco against his body. For his part, Draco pressed against him and wrapped his arms tightly around Ron's body. Neither heard the wolf whistles from the crowd that was watching them. At last they pulled back, and Ron buried his face in Draco's hair, whispering softly in his ear: "We don't have to be like everybody else, Draco."
"I know, I was just angry."
"So was I."
"Yeah, I could tell."
"You're really sexy when you get angry."
"Aren't I sexy all the time?"
Ron's reply was halted by Seamus's excited voice behind them.
"Hey, Ron, that was hot. You two have really fantastic fights." Without breaking apart they turned to look at Seamus, who was hopping from foot to foot in his enthusiasm. "Do you ever wrestle?"
"Why would we want to answer that, Seamus?"
"Because if you did wrestle, you could invite me to watch."
"Is that supposed to be an reason in favour of us telling you, Finnigan?"
Ron closed his eyes. When he opened them again he noticed the sizeable crowd that seemed to have gathered around them while they were arguing, and were now dispersing slowly, as if hoping that something more would happen. Seamus stepped a little closer and lowered his voice.
"So... Have you done that thing with the strawberry syrup?" Ron just closed his eyes again, but snapped them back open as he heard Draco say:
"Oh, yeah. I couldn't wait too long before fulfilling that little fantasy."
"And?" Seamus was virtually panting with eagerness and anticipation.
"And, it was so erotic that if I told you about it I would then have to drag Ron off somewhere and fuck him senseless before class, because even remembering it drives me wild."
"What if you tell me about it after class?"
"What if we act it out for you?" asked Draco, in his very best seductive voice.
"Would you?"
"No."
"You're so hard-hearted." said Seamus, looking bitterly disappointed.
Ron smirked, and leaned down to whisper in Draco's ear :"No, we're just-" His words were cut off by Draco's mouth, as he kissed him one more time before reluctantly disentangling himself.
"Time for class." he announced. "I'll see you at the regular time, Ron."
Seamus walked beside Ron to their first class. He kept looking at Ron and half opening his mouth, as if he wanted to say something.
"What, Seamus?" snapped Ron, at last.
"What?"
"What do you want to ask me?"
"Oh. Well. That. Hmm."
"Just spit it out, Seamus."
"Well, er. Has Malfoy really done that thing with strawberry syrup?"
Ron favoured Seamus with a particularly quelling look.
"Well, I'm curious."
"Can't you find someone else to be curious about?"
"Yeah, but there's just something about you and Malfoy together that just makes me go all hot and cold and shivery all over, you know."
"I didn't need to hear that, Seamus."
"Right. Er. So, tell me, what does he look like in opera length silk gloves and a dog collar?"
"What? What do you know about that?"
"You mean you've done that? I was just hopeful." Seamus looked up at Ron's forbidding face, and nervously scuttled into the classrooom. Ron followed.
----
The Slytherins had been strangely restrained lately, sometimes even stopping themselves from making embarrassing comments about the scene that had occurred when Filch found them in the trophy room. Ron had even begun to hope, faintly, that the Slytherins might have decided stop making fun of them.
The day after the fight, Draco passed Ron in the corridor outside the library, and pulled him into a convenient niche. They both felt a funny little tingle as they disappeared from sight. Draco kissed Ron lingeringly on the lips.
"Draco."
"Yes, Ron." Draco kissed Ron's cheek, then trailed little kisses down his jaw.
"We have class in two minutes."
"I know." He now kissed Ron's nose, then his lips again.
"So, we don't have time for this." But Ron couldn't help himself, he kissed Draco's forehead, then his nose, then his lips.
"Just a few chaste kisses." Draco assured him, tilting his head up so that Ron could kiss his throat.
"I know you, Malfoy. You'll have my clothes off me in another thirty seconds."
"No, I'm being restrained." Draco kissed Ron's ear, then his cheekbone..
"Oh, so this is just an affectionate interlude?" asked Ron, planting a tiny kiss on the corner of Draco's mouth.
"Yep." Draco took Ron's hand from where it was lying on his waist, and kissed the inside of his wrist, then each fingertip on turn.
"Ok, then." smiled Ron, taking Draco's hand in turn and kissing the palm before turning it over and dropping a courtly kiss on his knuckles. Draco smiled.
"See you at the usual time for a walk."
"I'll be looking forward to it."
Draco kissed Ron one more time on the lips, then on the hand again, before stepping out of the alcove. The corridor was empty except for a bunch of Slytherins, who looked furtive and shifty, but didn't say anything, much to both Ron and Draco's surprise.
Draco's next class was Transfiguration. He slid into his seat next to Crabbe and Goyle, who were gazing into each other's eyes and whispering. Draco slid one glance at them and looked quickly away. Someone would have to tell Crabbe that pink satin camisoles with little roses on the neckline were just not meant to go with hairy chests and partially unbuttoned checked shirts.
As Professor McGonagall explained the transfiguration they would work on today, Draco noticed that he was getting watched, very covertly but intently, by the Slytherins. Pansy Parkinson was parctically making a nervous twitch out of the way she looked down at her book and then up at Draco. He ignored them and concentrated on the lecture.
As he reached for his wand to perform the transfiguration, he noticed a red mark on his knuckles, and absently rubbed at it. It didn't shift. He frowned slightly, and took a closer look. The mark was growing steadily redder, and taking on the distinct shape of - no, it couldn't be - a pair of lips. Draco became aware of stifled giggles from the Slytherin side of the classroom, and looked up, frowning. The giggles coalesced into smirks, sneers, and derogatory laughter. Draco looked down at his hand again, then turned it over. A second red mark had formed on his palm. A nasty suspicion travelled through his mind and settled to churn in his stomach. Without needing to look, he could tell that each of the little kisses Ron had planted on his face just a few minutes before had turned red. The laughter from the Slytherins was spreading, and the Hufflepuffs were beginning to notice. A few of them began to giggle too. McGonagall noticed at last, and a pained expression crossed her face. She firmly restrained the urge to laugh, and managed to inject a severe note into her voice.
"Mr Malfoy, you appear to have lip marks all over your face. Since I cannot imagine even you and Mr Weasley doing this for fun, I am led to the unfortunate conclusion that someone has hexed you." her gaze, outwardly calm, scanned the classroom. "I would like one of the Hufflepuffs, yes, Justin, you'll do, to go and find Mr Weasley. He should be having History of Magic right now. I would then like the student responsible to confess and reverse the charm."
The entire class stared at McGonagall, then at Draco's face, now a delightful shade of pink with red lip marks as contrast. The titters and giggles redoubled, much to McGonagall's displeasure. Justin arrived back with Ron a few minutes later. Ron had been unluckier than Draco. History of Magic was so boring that the slow reddening of Ron's skin had been noticed almost immediately by the entire class, who then indulged in stifled giggles and sniggers and sidelong glances to their heart's content. Professor Binns noticed nothing, and droned on complacently. Seamus blatantly stared, and leaned over to ask how far the kisses went. Ron blushed pink from all the scrutiny, even though he could only see the ones on his hand. Justin's arrival had caused a slight stir, especially when he hissed a brief explanation to the nearest student, who passed word over all the classroom. Ron almost ran to the Transfiguration class, dreading meeting another student on the way, despite being aware that the story would be all over the school before the next class.
Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had got the whole story out of the Slytherins, who finally admitted that one of them had cast the charm on Draco and Ron as the pair had ducked into a niche. Professor McGonagall, while privately very amused by the incident, gave detentions to each Slytherin, except for Malfoy, the obvious victim, and Crabbe and Goyle, who had been snogging in the classroom at the time, their alibi verified by a sickened McGonagall herself. The charm was actually originally designed as an adultery detector - you could cast it on your partner when you suspected that they would be meeting a lover and all the traitorous marks would show up. It lasted for a day, unless lifted by the caster.
"Who cast the spell?" asked McGonagall. The Slytherins looked at their feet and smirked.
'A day without being able to kiss without coming out in red lip marks?' thought Malfoy in some alarm, momentarily distracted from the sniggers and giggles by the thought of not being able to kiss Ron, who arrived at that moment. McGonagall spoke with them briefly, then sent them off to Professor Flitwick's office. The Slytherin's continued to smirk and snigger as Ron and Draco left the room.
Taking their usual afternoon 'walk' was out of the question since they were still under the effects of the charm. Draco turned up instead with his chess set, and they retreated to the Gryffindor common room, where everyone seemed torn between indignation at his presence and hilarity over their lip-printed faces. Draco and Ron fought hard over every square on the board, and the game, interrupted by dinner, finally stalemated at about 10pm. Draco leaned back in his chair, looking exhausted.
"I haven't had anyone give me such a good game since I came to Hogwarts."
"Where have I heard that said by those lips before?"
"Don't tempt me, Weasley, or you'll have to spend half of tomorrow even redder than you are now."
"You're so sexy when you're resisting me, Malfoy."
"Don't think you can get round me by flattery either."
"I only want to get on top of you, not round you."
"Well, thanks to the evil minds of my housemates, you won't be going anywhere near me until tomorrow."
Ron frowned, and looked down at the board where the queens and kings still glared at each other, unable to move.
"I've been thinking" he said slowly, "of a good way to pay back your housemates."
"Fantastic. Will it involve lots of pain and humiliation?"
"Definitely humiliation."
"Great. Are you going to share?"
"Of course."
----
The Revenge, as Ron and Draco called it, was prepared quickly, so they could do it before the Easter holidays. It required some serious potion brewing and some magical modifications to walls in various common rooms. Draco and Ron had debated long and hard over the trustworthiness of their accomplices, but eventually everything was in place. Seamus had demanded a description of the strawberry syrup scene in exchange for his involvement, which they had eventually promised to provide for him after The Revenge, and close attention to the other recent victims of Slytherin attempts at humour, plus some judicious bribery, had provided the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff accomplices.
In the Slytherin Common Room, Draco turned up with some bottles that definitely didn't look like butterbeer, and proposed burying the hatchet with his housemates. When asked, rather sneeringly, by Pansy Parkinson, where 'his beloved Weasel' was, Draco put on an aggrieved face and said he was doing homework with that appalling mudblood Granger. Everyone cast off suspicion, and took a healthy slug from the various bottles, except for Crabbe, Goyle and Draco, who carefully drank only from their own bottles. At last, when the defences of the Slytherins were down low enough not to suspect subterfuge, Crabbe and Goyle suggested a game of Truth or Dare. Slurred enthusiasm was evident, and the fun began. No one noticed that Draco had absented himself. In fact, he was present, with a kind of magical video camera under Harry's invisibility cloak (liberated for the evening by Ron). He watched with delight as the effects of the Total Uninhibition and Truth Potions became evident.
"Truth or Dare?" asked Crabbe. Millicent Bullstrobe thought for a few moments.
"Dare." she said, at last.
"I dare you to pretend that chair is Severus Snape and make love to it." Millicent promptly crawled over to the chair and began licking the bottom of the leg in an unrefined and distinctly unerotic sort of way. She worked her way up until she was pressed against the chair, and began to rub her large body against it, uttering moans and little pants of "Oh, yes, Professor, yes." At last the chair fell over backward and she collapsed on the floor on top of it. She crawled back over to the group and took another large gulp of Uninhibiting and Truth causing vodka.
"Truth or Dare?" she asked Blaise Zabini.
"Truth." he said in a very bored sort of way.
"What would you do if you had Hermione Granger handcuffed naked to your bed?"
"Well, started Blaise, showing more enthusiasm, "first, I'd take off all my clothes, because it would be too difficult otherwise. And then I'd climb onto the wardrobe opposite the bed, clutching a feather duster, and leap off onto the bed, shouting 'Geronimo!'." He paused for a few moments, lost in pleasurable contemplation. "Then, I'd rub her all over with the feather duster, my special pink and green one, then rub her again all over with my come, since I don't think I'd be able to last very long at the sight of my feathery friend sliding around all those lovely curves, and then I'd just fuck her senseless all night." He sighed, and drifted off into the rest of the fantasy with a wistful smile.
"Truth or Dare?" Goyle asked Pansy Parkinson, since Blaise was incapable of speech.
"Dare." she replied, still a little weak with merriment, swallowing more of her drink.
"I dare you to rub yourself all over with Blaise's feather duster." he said, summoning it from it's place on Blaise's bed.
Pansy stroked the duster lingeringly and gently caressed her face with it. Then she drew it down her body, undoing the buttons on her robe as she went, until she could slip it off her shoulders. The duster continued to move in small circles over Pansy's thighs as she slowly brought it back up her body. She slid the straps of her dress down, and stripped to her petticoat, never stopping the movement of the duster. Blaise had returned to awareness now, and was staring at the show she was putting on with his mouth open. At last he snapped, and dragged her to the floor, the duster pressed between them as he kissed her and attempted to pull off his robes in a hurry.
"Oh, yes, Hermione, let me touch you with my magic feather, let me cast my spell on you, you know you'll love it when I-" His voice was cut off as the duster slipped and jammed in his mouth. Pansy was writhing beneath him.
"Oh, Neville, you know it feels so good when you tear my clothes off and - arrgh! - oh, gods yes, Neville, you demigod of porn, you know how I like it..."
Millicent began wordlessly taking off her clothes and rubbing against the chair again, and Crabbe and Goyle were already snogging on the couch. At this point, Draco stopped the camera and slipped out of the Common Room, torn between a desire to laugh until he cried and an equally strong desire to be violently sick. He had left the bottle of doctored (with a memory erasing potion, effective from twelve hours before consuming the potion to one hour afterward) hangover cure in a prominent spot, and he knew that Crabbe and Goyle would, if they stopped making out long enough to remember, force feed everyone a dose. Draco made his way to his bedroom where Ron would join him.
Meanwhile, in the other Common Rooms, the accomplices had been busy. At the signal, they had activated the screens on the walls, helped the prefects to herd the younger students into their dormitories, and provided popcorn. They remained alert for anyone who looked like they were going to be sick, casting anti-nausea charms when necessary. The older students watched the entire thing torn between shock and indecent laughter.
Having coordinated the activation and deactivation of the screens, Ron made his way to Draco's room and found him on the bed in the dark.
"That was great." he enthused, sliding onto the bed and bouncing gently. "Although Hermione and Neville will probably never speak to me again." Draco sat up and kissed him, very gently, easing him back onto the bed. He pushed Ron's arms up, out of the way, and suddenly Ron felt some metal round each wrist and a small click. He tried to pull away from Draco, but it was too late. Draco sat up, and lit the candles with a wave of his wand, drinking in Ron's incredulous face as he pulled against the handcuffs.
"Don't pull against them, Weasley, you'll just rub your wrists raw, and I wouldn't want you to do that until you've really got a reason for it." He used another spell to remove Ron's clothes, and soon they were both naked in the moon and candlelight.
"What's all this for, Malfoy?"
"Since we've got to tell Finnigan about the strawberry syrup scene, I thought we'd better do it again to refresh our memories."
"But you didn't tie me up, last time."
"No, and you squirmed so much the effect was ruined and the house elves gave me a lecture about ruining my sheets. This time -" he pushed Ron's thighs apart to sit between them, and pinned his knees with a charm, "-I want to make sure the experience is perfect."
"Any experience with you is perfect." Ron's voice was throaty, and he had grasped the bed rail with his hands to steady himself.
"Well, this will be more perfect than normal." Draco's smile was pure evil, as he reached for a small bowl containing a tiny metal spoon. "You know what comes next, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"The syrup trails from one freckle to another like running drops of fire..."
"Like this?"
Ron tried to squirm ineffectually. "Yes, like that." he gasped as the tiny spoon made contact with a freckle on his neck and slowly trailed syrup to one on his collarbone. Draco continued to apply the syrup, his face a mask of concentrated desire as he created tiny pink paths over Ron's chest and stomach.
"Do you know what you look like?" asked Draco.
"No..."
"I'll have to tell you then." Draco paused in his ministrations, drawing an immediate protest from Ron. "You look like the strawberry ripple ice-cream I once had in Muggle London. It was a hot day, and it melted all over me. I had to keep licking it off my chin, off my hands, off my nose... it was wonderful, so sweet and light on my tongue." He picked up his little spoon again and made a small link on Ron's thigh, again concentrating fully on his task. Draco ran the small lines of pink all over Ron's inner thighs, ignoring, with an effort, Ron's little twitches and rapid breaths. At last, he put down the bowl and surveyed his handiwork. His smile was possessive and dangerous as he reached out one finger to rescue a small drop that was trying to run into Ron's belly button. He sucked the finger into his mouth and groaned at the taste of Ron mingled with the taste of strawberry and sugar.
"You taste like sweetness and salt and summer days and irresistable sex." he growled. "You know what comes next."
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"You lick it off."
"How do I lick it?"
"Slowly, oh so slowly, like you're drawing sustenance from my body."
"And then?"
"And then you nibble up any little bits you've missed, and then, if I'm really lucky, you finally get round to giving me what I want."
"Which would be...?"
"You. Anyway you'll take me."
"I'm delighted, as always, to oblige you."
"Then stop using that mouth for talking."
Draco lowered his head slowly to the highest point of syrup on Ron's neck, and followed it down. He roved over Ron's body in an erratic pattern, almost as erratic as Ron's breathing underneath him.
"Gods- Draco, more."
"More what?"
"Use your teeth."
"Like this?" a slow scrape of teeth over sensitive flesh was met by a hiss of agreement. Draco gripped Ron's hips as his tongue and teeth traced over Ron's thighs, and Ron thrust his hips up as much as he could, given his restrained position. Draco was slowly losing it, and he barely had enough control, when finally finished with the syrup, to prepare Ron carefully. Ron was incoherent against the sheets, hands gripping the bed rails with desperately clenched fingers, mouth gasping as he pled with Draco to take him. Despite Draco's best attempts at slowness, it was over quickly for them both. He released Ron from the spell restraints and the handcuffs, and was pulled down for a slow kiss.
"We're going to tell Seamus about that?" Ron's voice was sleepy and dazed.
"That was the deal."
"He'll explode."
"Probably." Draco kissed Ron and curled around him. "But probably so will we."
"Still, talking about it won't be as great as actually being in it."
"Hell no, and if he thinks he's ever going to see it live he's got another thing coming."
"Bad choice of words, as Seamus would say." Ron's voice continued to fade, and he kissed Draco one more time they drifted off to sleep, wrapped securely around each other.
----
Breakfast the next morning was a riotous affair. Crabbe and Goyle had broken off their torrid lovemaking enough to give each traumatised player a draught of hangover cure, and by the time they had showered and dressed all memory of the night before had been erased, along with their hangover. They walked down to breakfast in a group, completely back to their public selves. The accomplices had warned everyone, very discreetly, that the Slytherins had been memory charmed by the Professors, who considered their behaviour a disgrace to the school, so there was no point actually asking them questions. Therefore, nobody did. They just watched from a distance, laughed, pointed, and quoted bits. The Professors were suspicious, but unable to pin down what had happened to cause all this hilarity.
Ron was right, neither Neville or Hermione seemed to want to talk to him, even when he apologised for their inadvertant involvement.
"Look, how was I to know that your names would come up?" he asked, in exasperation.
"Yes," drawled Draco in agreement, "I had no idea that my housemates had torrid fantasies about either of you."
"You're not helping here, Malfoy."
"Would it help if I added my heartfelt apologies to Ron's?"
"Nothing will help."
Ron gave up. He and Draco were thoroughly enjoying the Slytherin reaction to The Revenge, even though the Slytherins themselves had no idea what was going on, or why everyone was staring at them, or why they had these peculiar bruises everywhere, or, in Pansy's case, feathers where there shouldn't be any feathers. Watching the rest of the school was equally amusing, as many students were quite inventive in their reactions. Hermione and Neville came in for a fair bit of heavy handed sympathy, which didn't do anything to stop them both from a strong feeling of ill usage. Ron had noticed, however, some speculative glances in Neville's direction. Ron and Draco ate breakfast together that morning, linking their hands under the table and smiling with the unmistakeable glow of those who have righteously avenged themselves and indulged in eminently satisfying sex.
Just as satisfying was the aftermath of the strawberry syrup story, which they had told to Seamus in the Gryffindor Common Room before breakfast. He had been left dazed and speechless, and had created a miniture diversion by immediately pouncing on Harry as he foolishly walked past, suspecting nothing. Harry had been to shocked to respond, then had, to everyone's surprise, kissed back. Seamus, having had two devastating experiences that morning, promptly fell over, and was even now incapable of talking.
Life was good, mused Ron, feeling Draco's hand on his thigh. Life was great. He smiled brilliantly at Draco, and a shaft of light from the high windows enveloped them as they shared a tender kiss. Life was great. Life was just how it should be.
----
There you go, Taiorami, I wrote the strawberry syrup scene. I hope you like it. Yes, there'll be more Seamus and we will fully explore what's going on with Harry's mind too. There'll be something weird and twisted, don't worry. Next chapter will contain the Weasley family too, in all their technicolour glory. Ha, I bet the twins are dreaming up something nasty. Again, thanks for all reviews, and all signed reviews will be responded to by reviews of your stories - if I can find you. I can't find some of you in the authors directory. Sorry about that.
I hope to get the next chapter out next week, before I go on holiday for two months and then to a new job in a new city. 200 points to your house if you can guess what my job is. 500 points if you can guess where I'm travelling (hint, it's the same country as I live in, but the country I live in is not the same as the one I was born and grew up in. It's a big country).
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