Disclaimer-
Ron is really sexy.
Are violets really blue?
I don't own a thing in this,
So please, God, don't sue.
The songs within ain't mine,
They're Madonna's, and with me that's fine.
Some of the guys in this are gay,
So if you don't like those types of things,
Stay away.
I'm abusing Billywig stings
A/N: Clubbing, Wizard drug use, Gothed out people, and a murderous addiction to something other than drugs. Slash oriented, and dangerously so. I expect to get flames from people for these pairings. You've been warned. Rated R and it deserves it because of severe subject matter. I do plan on writing a follow up to this, meaning it is a really, really long chapter. Enjoy. Everyone but Ginny's in their 7th year. She's in her 6th.
-Damy, 8-25-01
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Fallen Angel / Skin / The Dragon
Our story may start about half-way into Hogwart's first term, but it probably starts on the first day of Ron Weasely's fifth year at Hogwarts. He had just started feasting, when he noticed a wall of silence surrounding the Hufflepuff table. He looked over, and saw what looked like Justin Finch-Fletchely.
He had pale skin, very pale, and his hair was no longer as curly, but straight in the front, with his bangs done so that they looked like a large V on his forehead. His skin was completely pale and white, all over, with a red blush on his cheeks. Black eye shadow graced his eyes, and they were radiantly soft but harsh and blue. He had on several metal bracelets, winding around his wrists.
He had lost a lot of weight, his face sunk in, and he had his new dark-black robes on, and they absorbed all the light around him, making his robe shimmer and vibrate with darkness.
Ron couldn't eat anything after he saw Justin.
The next few weeks, at night, he would be woken up by Harry and another person in the dorm dressing quickly and leaving, whispering excitedly.
In Herbology, about half-way into the week, Ron noticed that Justin and Ernie weren't getting along as they used to, and when Professor Sprout got a tad bit snippy with Justin on the repotting of a Venusian Man-Trap, he blew up, and yelled at her and screamed at her.
Ron still heard Harry and his friend get up, get dressed, and leave, then come back light-headed and laughing softly.
Needless to say, this went on for some time, Harry always being in a good mood for the classes all morning, even Potions.
Finally, one night, Ron stayed up to see what Harry was doing, and he was shocked.
Harry had borrowed a pair of Seamus' muggle pants, dark black dress pants, and was wearing a fishnet black shirt. Seamus was with him, wearing the same bottoms, but with a tight black muscle T-shirt. Harry was doing his hair up, and Seamus was as well. They both had spiked up their hair, and were actually hugging each other close when they were done, FInally, Harry had started painting Seamus' face, and then Seamus started painting Harry's face. Now, one side of their face was completely white, even the hair, and the other was completely black.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Harry and Seamus jumped, surprised, and turned around wide-eyed to look at Ron.
"What are you doing up?" Seamus asked, defensive.
"Seeing why you guys keep waking me up at night. Now, I'm going to come with you to what-ever you're doing, understand, or else I will inform a Professor."
"You sound like Hermione."
"You've done this every single night. Whatever you may be doing, it's keeping me up. And you're holding it from me, if it's so fun, and we're best friends, Harry."
Harry's eyes went blank.
"Oh My God, Seamus, he's right. Ron, get dressed, we're taking you clubbing."
Seamus nodded at Ron, and went and found Ron some clothes, did his hair, and painted his face. Ron now was fitted with them, face a brilliant purple color, hair done in true Mohawk fashion, and he was wearing the same bottoms as Seamus and Harry, and a tight black muscle tee with a green fishnet shirt over it.
Then, they all walked out, with Harry's invisibility cloak thrown over all of them. Halfway down the steps, they spotted Ginny tapping her foot impatiently, looking at her watch.
"Where are they?" she swore after that, and then, Harry whipped off the cloak,
"AAAHH!!!" she screamed, before shutting her mouth.
"Ron?"
"Ginny?"
"What are you doing?" they both asked each other simultaneously.
Ginny had on large black boots, a long skirt that hid them, and a leather strung together jacket. She had vivid scarlet lipstick on, and her hair was done backwards in 2 long ponytails, each ricocheting back and forth like little zig-zags. She was majorly gothed out.
"Clubbing." they both said at once, and then, they each firmly snapped their mouths shut.
And, without further ado, they all left, at least temporarily, Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
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They slipped through the one-eyed witch statue, and wound up in the back of Honeydukes. They each quietly slipped through the front door, and made their way through Hogsmeade, narrowly avoiding a chattering group of doxies. (1) Finally, they hit upon an old building that each of their eyes slid off of, although almost all of them knew the way. Ginny dragged Ron behind her, and they went in about 2 feet into the lawn, when they were defeaned by the sudden boom of Tchaikovsky's dance mix, a really funked-out version of dance of the sugar plum fairies.
They went up to the entrance of the flashing building, and were greeted by a large brownish red thing covered with hair, standing on 5 feet. Harry whispered in Ron's ear.
"Quintaped.(2)"
They walked up to him, and Harry slapped the thing a high five.
"'Sup, MacBoon?"
"Nothing much. Just snacked on some dog." the thing grunted, and smiled.
"What kind?"
"Big ass black thing. Tried to get in here. 'Bout the size of a bear."
Harry stopped stone cold, and Ron could feel what those words meant. This thing ate Sirus.
"Nah, just shittin' ya. Black and Lupin came in here a while earlier."
"Man, you bastard. That's not something to joke about."
"I'm the bouncer. I'll do what I please, Potter, and get you and your friends' asses in there before I eat all of you."
"Yes sir!" Harry said, bowing low and mock saluting.
They all walked into the booming building, rainbow lights flashing, echoing off walls, revealing a bunch of patrons dancing to the orchestra in the back playing a kick-ass rendition of the Sugar Plum Fairies.
"So what do we do?" Ron yelled over the music.
"Just relax, let your body move. Hold on a sec, I'll be back, okay?" Harry yelled back, and ran off.
He came back with a box full of lethargic insects. He opened it, and he and Seamus both took one. It had a pair of wings on its head, and was about 3 inches long. It's sting was about half of that, and the thing was bloated, and how. It's jaws were dripping with a milky white fluid. It was vivid blue, and looked like it had just drunk about a cup of some kind of Potion.
"Umm, what are those?" Ron said, his eyes looking skeptical.
"Chizwigs. A cross between a Chizpurfle and a Billywig. It gorges itself on Potions, and it can sting them out, mixing it with its own effects. They're a lot of fun. Want one, guys?"
Ron's eyes grew wide, and he looked back on his history book about Fantastic Beasts and where to find them. The Billywig's sting effects included Giddiness and levitation. Ron shrugged his shoulders.
"You only live once." he announced. "Now how do you work these?"
"Well, these are filled with Firulent Potion, and you attach them to your arms right above the vein, right there. Then, you goad it into stinging you."
And with that, Harry flicked it. It swelled up, then dug into his arm, and started pumping away, its sting going in and coming out of Harry's arm as he groaned in near orgasmic pleasure.
"God, yes... Aaah... That's the stuff!!"
Harry looked dazed, and, Ron noticed Ginny shaking her head. Seamus looked at Harry's arm, which was still bleeding, and, grabbed it, kissing the wound, sucking it up into his mouth, while he had the bug on his arm going. Ron semi-squicked at that vision, when Ginny whispered in his ear.
"They're into blood sharing, Ron... They're into a lot of weird stuff. Anyways, go ahead and use some, Mum and Dad didn't tell us anything against 'em. Though I don't want to be stung. Crap, crap, crap. Where'd my frog go?"
She looked around at the ground all around her, and Ron noted that she had found a magic frog in their gardens almost eaten by the damn gnomes. After she rescued it, it lived with her.
And, gave them enough money to get a Crup(3), and now, all the gnomes in their garden were gone. Ron smiled as she went off in search of her frog.
Ron picked up a particularly gorged insect, and set it on his arm, and then, flicked it. It's sting went in and out of her arm, going back and forth, Ron hissed at the pain, but, after the drug went into his bloodstream, he was way greatful for it. He dabbed at the wound with a piece of his shirt, and looked around. Everything was so fresh, so virulent, the colors all vivid, the sounds all exquisite, and every movement graceful and precise, like a beautiful painting.
He walked to the main area of the club, and was greeted by the sight of a million neon lights going off at once, each flashing and buzzing, different colors illuminating everyone's faces, making them all crazy, sentient but undistinguishable creatures. Ron felt at home, and then, the crowd parted like water, everyone stopping dancing as the orchestra suddenly stopped, and leaving Ron in the middle of the aisle. He barely noticed that, however, when he saw what was going on. In the very middle of the room, a wizard in a bright purple blazer with a green pair of slacks on stood with a cane, and he had bright white hair, and had a large cigar in his mouth. He had no mustache, but he looked like a large french one that twisted into a perverse smile would suit him perfectly.
"Is everyone having a good time here at the old Moulin?"
Everyone around him screamed a triumphant, 'Oui, Et toi?'(4), and Ron let out a meek one as well.
"Good, good. I am fine, everyone. Thank you for making me feel like I'm at home. I realize you've enjoyed your dancing here, and I bid you stay until we close, which we never will! (A scream of 'Yeahs' intercepted him.) However, the main event will be held here in about 15 minutes. If you would rather dance freely, please return to another room in this old mansion, and enjoy yourself. For the rest of you, I bid you stay! (Yet another yell from the crowd was elicited, fascinating Ron to no ends, the way he could hear all the voices of every single person at once.) And, now, on with the show!"
He cackled when the crowd yelled for him to continue, and then, he saw the orchestra pick up their instruments, and a beautiful tone came out them all, as figures sillhouetted themselves on the walls, and other shadowy figures took them, and they danced to the slow, but breath-taking rythmns, and a large piano was in the middle of the room, and a man played on it, and he was surrounded by a large bonfire as he played, not scorching, but merely throwing a small amount of heat inside, making him sweat, making him pound the keys in the piano, making the dancers, everyone in the room restless as they listened to the beautiful solitary piano, all moving almost soundlessy, sweeping each other off their feet. The saxophones in the orchestra played just right, setting down the melody, making the entire tune come together, and flutes came in, and Ron felt swept away in the music, and he felt the throb of blood in his arms, in his veins, and he looked at everyone swept away, and all dancing, and the flashing shadows, and the colors, and then, it died away, just stopped, and the orchestra finished quietly,
Everyone stood stock still, and the music came on, underwater sounding, like there Ron was, underwater, his mind slowly bubbling and clearing, and he heard the vocals clearly, before he could see the man with white hair turn his hands, wave them, as the entire dance floor moved back except Ron, and the dazzling lights came on, blinding him, and there stepped a figure so beautiful, so angelic that it blasted through Ron's soul, making his breath quicken as his stomach formed butterflies, and then, the lights dimmed slightly, and Ron could finally completely see the Angel, the radiantly dark thing as it slipped to the very middle of the dance floor, slinking and throwing his body from side to side as he danced wildly, and then, the true vocals came in, so soft and sweet and mermish that Ron' heart jolted as he realized that the Angel, the fallen boy, was looking at him from under his eye-shadowed eyes.
//Do I know you from somewhere?
Why do you leave me wanting more?
Why do all the things I say sound like the stupid things I've said before?
Put your hand on my skin
Put your hand on my skin
Put your hand on my skin
Kiss me I'm dying...//
Great beads of silver bedecked the angels delicate neck, pale against silver. Brown hair curly in the back, bangs in the front elevated outwards and downwards towards the floor. Skin white, with a red blush on each cheek, and long delicate fingers, capable fingers. Large metal jewellry wound around his arms, and black spandex slacks were worn. A black button up top was cut roughly at each elbow and at his collar, open at the chest, revealling white flesh. Ron wanted to be out there, with the Angel who was watching *him,* and then, he was, waving his body around, matching the angel's beat with his own, all the people watching him, but Ron didn't care, and they were in sinc with each other, just Ron and the Angel, and Ron wanted to hold this Angel, this fallen thing, and he wanted to touch his pale white porcelain flesh, and the Angel closed his eyes, falling in automaticc rythmn with this other boy.
//Put your hand on my skin
I close my eyes
I need to make a connection
I'm walking on a thin line
I close my eyes
I close my eyes//
Ron put his hands out while dancing, running them over the Angel's exposed chest, the pale white cold and hot flesh on his fingertips, and his veins throbbing with the Angel's heartbeat so close to his own. The Angel opened his eyes, and shook his head at Ron, pulling his straying arms away. Ron noticed something almost familiar about the boy.
//Do I know you from somewhere...
Why do you leave me wanting more,
Why do all the things I say sound like tne stupid things I've said before?//
Ron felt what the Angel was saying, that he could close his eyes, and they could both dance to the same rythmn, and that they could feel what the other was thinking. Ron did, he did it so willingly, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the thoughts that formed, and his instinct, and he could tell from the audience's 'oohs, and aahs,' that he and the Angel were dancing perfectly in sync with each other, their bodies swaying, a connection being made, and they danced, sweat breaking out on their bodies.
//Touch me I'm trying,
To see inside of your soul...
I've got this thing,
I've got to make a connection,
I'm not like this all the time,
You've got this thing,
You've got this thing,//
The sweat was shining on the Angel, and on Ron, their skins slicked, the crowd moving around almost in awe, looking at them as they danced alone, eyes closed, feeling out the beat, one boy red-haired, the other dusty brown, and the beat circled them, encompassed them, and they were at that point between heaven and hell, conscious and unconscious, evil and good, the purgatory of bliss, no matter where they were going, they would be together, and that was fine with each of them, they could be in hell forever, the fallen Angel and the flamed boy, but they would always be together, and then...
//Do I know you from somewhere,
Why do you leave me wanting more?
Why do all the things I say sound like the stupid things I've said before?//
A change of sorts, a snap, and it struck the Angel with as much force as it did the boy, and the music had changed, oh-so-changed, and their bodies reacted immediately, switching into a faster frenzy than the one they were in, just the two of them, bodies humming in tune, drawing gasps from the crowd.
//Kiss me I'm dying,
Put your hand on my skin,
I close my eyes,
I need to have your protection,
I close my eyes,
I close my eyes,//
They both opened their eyes, and slowed down suddenly, the music waltzing, mixing with another, jazz saxophones, all mixing together, and the Angel held out hs hand, and Ron grabbed it, and spun him with their hands over the Angel's head, pulling the Angel to Ron's chest, then spinning him out again, as they waltz-tangoed to the mixture of both songs.
//I've been so many places,
Do I know you from somehere?//
The Angel was walking in a circumference to Ron, and they both fully turned round in an entire 360, the Angel walking majestically and gracefully, Ron staying in one spot, slowly pivoting to meet the Angel's gaze, all while still sharing the beat from the old song that was trailing off now with the words of the new.
//I've seen so many faces,
Why do you leave me wanting more?//
Ron wasn't sure what he saw in the Angel, or vice-versa, and he didn't realluy care. His heart was racing as he grabbed the Angel by both hands, and swung him underneath his legs, then pulled his leg over the Angel's head as he turned around and pulled the Angel up to his face. He couldn't talk, couldn't speak, but he knew something was happening even as they were dancing, something special, something pasiionate, something that burned Ron with a fire deep in his heart, that he could feel when he pressed the Angel up to his heart.
//But nothing compares to these blue and yellow purple hills,
Why do all the things I say sound like all the stupid things I've said before?//
Spun again, outwards, and he leaned on Ron's arm, forming a complicated move, on one foot as Ron swept him around, Ron now moving him in a circle, him staying in the one spot on one foot, as he was turned to face the crowd, his arm outstretched as if to touch them all, and Ron brought the Angel back in again, and they both locked eyesight as they both walked in a circle, one hand from each clasped in the other's, a perfect circle moving from the left-over flashes of light from their legs.
//I've climbed the highest mountain,
Do I know you from somewhere?//
Turn off the lights, thought Ron, and the world will still see our love illuminated, and we will always be here with each other, always, always this eternal dance, this constant mixture of feelings, such pureness and warmth, and the Angel was looking at him still, both of them in that circle, looking at each other.
//Once or twice but who's countin'?
Why do you leave me wanting more?//
Then, Ron spun the Angel towards him again, a bit rough, and when he reached Ron, their lips met, brushed chastely, and they went back to dancing, their clothes getting ripped from each of their violent moves. The fishnet shirt was gone about an eternity ago, and the muscle shirt was slowly splitting from the maniacal moves being placed on it. The Angel's dress shirt had lost all of its buttons, and was waving wildly, still attached by a charm to the Angel, and it was waving back and forth as they danced, showing off the gleaming white skin on his stomach, muscles sparse, but all of them that showed well developed.
//But nothing compares to these blue and yellow purple hills,
Why do all the things I say sound like the stupid things I've said before?//
Small, but long fingers were pressed into larger more muscled hands, and they each grasped hard, and they put their feet pressed against each other's, as they both leaned out, trusting completely the other one. Eyes were locked, glued towards each other, and they did a complete circle, and they stumbled, each of them, then, not facing each other anymore, and before they fell they jumped into a roll, and wound up getting out of it at the same time. They faced each other, and backflipped by each other, then dived into another roll, turned around again, both spinning, and Ron caught the Angel by his shoulders, and they kissed, sweat-slicked and happy, tired but exhilirated, like they could dance forever, caught in each other's embrace.
//Kiss me I'm dying,
Touch me I'm trying,
I'm not like this all the time,
I'm not like this all the time,//
Hands went under whatever remained of shirts, roamng over stomachs and backs, groping, each moaning into the other's kiss, and then, that's when Ron heard the Angel speak for the first time.
"Can't... leave... I'm... Gonna.... die...."
Of course all of it was muffled, and that was all that Ron caught of it, but if he caught the entire drift, he would've died right then.
"I plan on being here all night, if not into the next day!" Ron said, kissing down the smaller boy's neck.
//Put your hands on my skin,
Put your hands on my skin,
Put your hands on my skin,
Touch me I'm trying,//
"You... don't... get...it.... I... won't... be... around... much... longer..."
//Ohhhhohohoh
Put your hand on my skin,
Put your hand on my skin,
Put your hand on my skin,
I'm not like this all the time......//
"Then I'll go home with you!" Ron said, enjoying the cheek that he was licking.
The Angel pulled away from Ron, looked at him fearfully, shook his head, then ran, snagging a piece of his metal bracelet on the door, and ran into the backrooms as the white-haired man came out again, smiling at everyone. Ron went over and picked up the bracelet, stuck it in his pocket, and was apprehended by Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Ginny Weasely, Harry Potter, and Seamus Finnegan, all aplaudding, and the latter two with dark crimson lines on their mouths.
"Wow, Ron, I didn't know you could do that!" Ginny said, wide-eyed.
"Did you find your toad?" Ron asked back, almost conversationally as he tried to get thinking why the Angel could have left him.
"Yes. This beautiful boy had him, and we talked, and he goes to a school around here he said, and he's one year older than me and that's all!" Ginny said excitedly.
"That's... good..." Ron said, sighing.
He was congratulated by everyone on that Saturday night as he went back to his dorm room.
The next morning he noticedd that the Hufflepuff table was exceptionally quiet as Justin came to sit down. Missing a bracelet, along with the fact that Justin was moving to the music he had danced to the night before, in the exact posture. Ron blinked as he put both facts together
Justin was the Fallen Angel.
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Like that, do ya? Review, using the liddle ole box below. More chapters soon, on who this boy Ginny's in love with, Harry and Seamus' relationship, and Sirius and Remus'.
-Damy, 8-26-01
Ron is really sexy.
Are violets really blue?
I don't own a thing in this,
So please, God, don't sue.
The songs within ain't mine,
They're Madonna's, and with me that's fine.
Some of the guys in this are gay,
So if you don't like those types of things,
Stay away.
I'm abusing Billywig stings
A/N: Clubbing, Wizard drug use, Gothed out people, and a murderous addiction to something other than drugs. Slash oriented, and dangerously so. I expect to get flames from people for these pairings. You've been warned. Rated R and it deserves it because of severe subject matter. I do plan on writing a follow up to this, meaning it is a really, really long chapter. Enjoy. Everyone but Ginny's in their 7th year. She's in her 6th.
-Damy, 8-25-01
****************************************************************************
Fallen Angel / Skin / The Dragon
Our story may start about half-way into Hogwart's first term, but it probably starts on the first day of Ron Weasely's fifth year at Hogwarts. He had just started feasting, when he noticed a wall of silence surrounding the Hufflepuff table. He looked over, and saw what looked like Justin Finch-Fletchely.
He had pale skin, very pale, and his hair was no longer as curly, but straight in the front, with his bangs done so that they looked like a large V on his forehead. His skin was completely pale and white, all over, with a red blush on his cheeks. Black eye shadow graced his eyes, and they were radiantly soft but harsh and blue. He had on several metal bracelets, winding around his wrists.
He had lost a lot of weight, his face sunk in, and he had his new dark-black robes on, and they absorbed all the light around him, making his robe shimmer and vibrate with darkness.
Ron couldn't eat anything after he saw Justin.
The next few weeks, at night, he would be woken up by Harry and another person in the dorm dressing quickly and leaving, whispering excitedly.
In Herbology, about half-way into the week, Ron noticed that Justin and Ernie weren't getting along as they used to, and when Professor Sprout got a tad bit snippy with Justin on the repotting of a Venusian Man-Trap, he blew up, and yelled at her and screamed at her.
Ron still heard Harry and his friend get up, get dressed, and leave, then come back light-headed and laughing softly.
Needless to say, this went on for some time, Harry always being in a good mood for the classes all morning, even Potions.
Finally, one night, Ron stayed up to see what Harry was doing, and he was shocked.
Harry had borrowed a pair of Seamus' muggle pants, dark black dress pants, and was wearing a fishnet black shirt. Seamus was with him, wearing the same bottoms, but with a tight black muscle T-shirt. Harry was doing his hair up, and Seamus was as well. They both had spiked up their hair, and were actually hugging each other close when they were done, FInally, Harry had started painting Seamus' face, and then Seamus started painting Harry's face. Now, one side of their face was completely white, even the hair, and the other was completely black.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Harry and Seamus jumped, surprised, and turned around wide-eyed to look at Ron.
"What are you doing up?" Seamus asked, defensive.
"Seeing why you guys keep waking me up at night. Now, I'm going to come with you to what-ever you're doing, understand, or else I will inform a Professor."
"You sound like Hermione."
"You've done this every single night. Whatever you may be doing, it's keeping me up. And you're holding it from me, if it's so fun, and we're best friends, Harry."
Harry's eyes went blank.
"Oh My God, Seamus, he's right. Ron, get dressed, we're taking you clubbing."
Seamus nodded at Ron, and went and found Ron some clothes, did his hair, and painted his face. Ron now was fitted with them, face a brilliant purple color, hair done in true Mohawk fashion, and he was wearing the same bottoms as Seamus and Harry, and a tight black muscle tee with a green fishnet shirt over it.
Then, they all walked out, with Harry's invisibility cloak thrown over all of them. Halfway down the steps, they spotted Ginny tapping her foot impatiently, looking at her watch.
"Where are they?" she swore after that, and then, Harry whipped off the cloak,
"AAAHH!!!" she screamed, before shutting her mouth.
"Ron?"
"Ginny?"
"What are you doing?" they both asked each other simultaneously.
Ginny had on large black boots, a long skirt that hid them, and a leather strung together jacket. She had vivid scarlet lipstick on, and her hair was done backwards in 2 long ponytails, each ricocheting back and forth like little zig-zags. She was majorly gothed out.
"Clubbing." they both said at once, and then, they each firmly snapped their mouths shut.
And, without further ado, they all left, at least temporarily, Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
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They slipped through the one-eyed witch statue, and wound up in the back of Honeydukes. They each quietly slipped through the front door, and made their way through Hogsmeade, narrowly avoiding a chattering group of doxies. (1) Finally, they hit upon an old building that each of their eyes slid off of, although almost all of them knew the way. Ginny dragged Ron behind her, and they went in about 2 feet into the lawn, when they were defeaned by the sudden boom of Tchaikovsky's dance mix, a really funked-out version of dance of the sugar plum fairies.
They went up to the entrance of the flashing building, and were greeted by a large brownish red thing covered with hair, standing on 5 feet. Harry whispered in Ron's ear.
"Quintaped.(2)"
They walked up to him, and Harry slapped the thing a high five.
"'Sup, MacBoon?"
"Nothing much. Just snacked on some dog." the thing grunted, and smiled.
"What kind?"
"Big ass black thing. Tried to get in here. 'Bout the size of a bear."
Harry stopped stone cold, and Ron could feel what those words meant. This thing ate Sirus.
"Nah, just shittin' ya. Black and Lupin came in here a while earlier."
"Man, you bastard. That's not something to joke about."
"I'm the bouncer. I'll do what I please, Potter, and get you and your friends' asses in there before I eat all of you."
"Yes sir!" Harry said, bowing low and mock saluting.
They all walked into the booming building, rainbow lights flashing, echoing off walls, revealing a bunch of patrons dancing to the orchestra in the back playing a kick-ass rendition of the Sugar Plum Fairies.
"So what do we do?" Ron yelled over the music.
"Just relax, let your body move. Hold on a sec, I'll be back, okay?" Harry yelled back, and ran off.
He came back with a box full of lethargic insects. He opened it, and he and Seamus both took one. It had a pair of wings on its head, and was about 3 inches long. It's sting was about half of that, and the thing was bloated, and how. It's jaws were dripping with a milky white fluid. It was vivid blue, and looked like it had just drunk about a cup of some kind of Potion.
"Umm, what are those?" Ron said, his eyes looking skeptical.
"Chizwigs. A cross between a Chizpurfle and a Billywig. It gorges itself on Potions, and it can sting them out, mixing it with its own effects. They're a lot of fun. Want one, guys?"
Ron's eyes grew wide, and he looked back on his history book about Fantastic Beasts and where to find them. The Billywig's sting effects included Giddiness and levitation. Ron shrugged his shoulders.
"You only live once." he announced. "Now how do you work these?"
"Well, these are filled with Firulent Potion, and you attach them to your arms right above the vein, right there. Then, you goad it into stinging you."
And with that, Harry flicked it. It swelled up, then dug into his arm, and started pumping away, its sting going in and coming out of Harry's arm as he groaned in near orgasmic pleasure.
"God, yes... Aaah... That's the stuff!!"
Harry looked dazed, and, Ron noticed Ginny shaking her head. Seamus looked at Harry's arm, which was still bleeding, and, grabbed it, kissing the wound, sucking it up into his mouth, while he had the bug on his arm going. Ron semi-squicked at that vision, when Ginny whispered in his ear.
"They're into blood sharing, Ron... They're into a lot of weird stuff. Anyways, go ahead and use some, Mum and Dad didn't tell us anything against 'em. Though I don't want to be stung. Crap, crap, crap. Where'd my frog go?"
She looked around at the ground all around her, and Ron noted that she had found a magic frog in their gardens almost eaten by the damn gnomes. After she rescued it, it lived with her.
And, gave them enough money to get a Crup(3), and now, all the gnomes in their garden were gone. Ron smiled as she went off in search of her frog.
Ron picked up a particularly gorged insect, and set it on his arm, and then, flicked it. It's sting went in and out of her arm, going back and forth, Ron hissed at the pain, but, after the drug went into his bloodstream, he was way greatful for it. He dabbed at the wound with a piece of his shirt, and looked around. Everything was so fresh, so virulent, the colors all vivid, the sounds all exquisite, and every movement graceful and precise, like a beautiful painting.
He walked to the main area of the club, and was greeted by the sight of a million neon lights going off at once, each flashing and buzzing, different colors illuminating everyone's faces, making them all crazy, sentient but undistinguishable creatures. Ron felt at home, and then, the crowd parted like water, everyone stopping dancing as the orchestra suddenly stopped, and leaving Ron in the middle of the aisle. He barely noticed that, however, when he saw what was going on. In the very middle of the room, a wizard in a bright purple blazer with a green pair of slacks on stood with a cane, and he had bright white hair, and had a large cigar in his mouth. He had no mustache, but he looked like a large french one that twisted into a perverse smile would suit him perfectly.
"Is everyone having a good time here at the old Moulin?"
Everyone around him screamed a triumphant, 'Oui, Et toi?'(4), and Ron let out a meek one as well.
"Good, good. I am fine, everyone. Thank you for making me feel like I'm at home. I realize you've enjoyed your dancing here, and I bid you stay until we close, which we never will! (A scream of 'Yeahs' intercepted him.) However, the main event will be held here in about 15 minutes. If you would rather dance freely, please return to another room in this old mansion, and enjoy yourself. For the rest of you, I bid you stay! (Yet another yell from the crowd was elicited, fascinating Ron to no ends, the way he could hear all the voices of every single person at once.) And, now, on with the show!"
He cackled when the crowd yelled for him to continue, and then, he saw the orchestra pick up their instruments, and a beautiful tone came out them all, as figures sillhouetted themselves on the walls, and other shadowy figures took them, and they danced to the slow, but breath-taking rythmns, and a large piano was in the middle of the room, and a man played on it, and he was surrounded by a large bonfire as he played, not scorching, but merely throwing a small amount of heat inside, making him sweat, making him pound the keys in the piano, making the dancers, everyone in the room restless as they listened to the beautiful solitary piano, all moving almost soundlessy, sweeping each other off their feet. The saxophones in the orchestra played just right, setting down the melody, making the entire tune come together, and flutes came in, and Ron felt swept away in the music, and he felt the throb of blood in his arms, in his veins, and he looked at everyone swept away, and all dancing, and the flashing shadows, and the colors, and then, it died away, just stopped, and the orchestra finished quietly,
Everyone stood stock still, and the music came on, underwater sounding, like there Ron was, underwater, his mind slowly bubbling and clearing, and he heard the vocals clearly, before he could see the man with white hair turn his hands, wave them, as the entire dance floor moved back except Ron, and the dazzling lights came on, blinding him, and there stepped a figure so beautiful, so angelic that it blasted through Ron's soul, making his breath quicken as his stomach formed butterflies, and then, the lights dimmed slightly, and Ron could finally completely see the Angel, the radiantly dark thing as it slipped to the very middle of the dance floor, slinking and throwing his body from side to side as he danced wildly, and then, the true vocals came in, so soft and sweet and mermish that Ron' heart jolted as he realized that the Angel, the fallen boy, was looking at him from under his eye-shadowed eyes.
//Do I know you from somewhere?
Why do you leave me wanting more?
Why do all the things I say sound like the stupid things I've said before?
Put your hand on my skin
Put your hand on my skin
Put your hand on my skin
Kiss me I'm dying...//
Great beads of silver bedecked the angels delicate neck, pale against silver. Brown hair curly in the back, bangs in the front elevated outwards and downwards towards the floor. Skin white, with a red blush on each cheek, and long delicate fingers, capable fingers. Large metal jewellry wound around his arms, and black spandex slacks were worn. A black button up top was cut roughly at each elbow and at his collar, open at the chest, revealling white flesh. Ron wanted to be out there, with the Angel who was watching *him,* and then, he was, waving his body around, matching the angel's beat with his own, all the people watching him, but Ron didn't care, and they were in sinc with each other, just Ron and the Angel, and Ron wanted to hold this Angel, this fallen thing, and he wanted to touch his pale white porcelain flesh, and the Angel closed his eyes, falling in automaticc rythmn with this other boy.
//Put your hand on my skin
I close my eyes
I need to make a connection
I'm walking on a thin line
I close my eyes
I close my eyes//
Ron put his hands out while dancing, running them over the Angel's exposed chest, the pale white cold and hot flesh on his fingertips, and his veins throbbing with the Angel's heartbeat so close to his own. The Angel opened his eyes, and shook his head at Ron, pulling his straying arms away. Ron noticed something almost familiar about the boy.
//Do I know you from somewhere...
Why do you leave me wanting more,
Why do all the things I say sound like tne stupid things I've said before?//
Ron felt what the Angel was saying, that he could close his eyes, and they could both dance to the same rythmn, and that they could feel what the other was thinking. Ron did, he did it so willingly, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the thoughts that formed, and his instinct, and he could tell from the audience's 'oohs, and aahs,' that he and the Angel were dancing perfectly in sync with each other, their bodies swaying, a connection being made, and they danced, sweat breaking out on their bodies.
//Touch me I'm trying,
To see inside of your soul...
I've got this thing,
I've got to make a connection,
I'm not like this all the time,
You've got this thing,
You've got this thing,//
The sweat was shining on the Angel, and on Ron, their skins slicked, the crowd moving around almost in awe, looking at them as they danced alone, eyes closed, feeling out the beat, one boy red-haired, the other dusty brown, and the beat circled them, encompassed them, and they were at that point between heaven and hell, conscious and unconscious, evil and good, the purgatory of bliss, no matter where they were going, they would be together, and that was fine with each of them, they could be in hell forever, the fallen Angel and the flamed boy, but they would always be together, and then...
//Do I know you from somewhere,
Why do you leave me wanting more?
Why do all the things I say sound like the stupid things I've said before?//
A change of sorts, a snap, and it struck the Angel with as much force as it did the boy, and the music had changed, oh-so-changed, and their bodies reacted immediately, switching into a faster frenzy than the one they were in, just the two of them, bodies humming in tune, drawing gasps from the crowd.
//Kiss me I'm dying,
Put your hand on my skin,
I close my eyes,
I need to have your protection,
I close my eyes,
I close my eyes,//
They both opened their eyes, and slowed down suddenly, the music waltzing, mixing with another, jazz saxophones, all mixing together, and the Angel held out hs hand, and Ron grabbed it, and spun him with their hands over the Angel's head, pulling the Angel to Ron's chest, then spinning him out again, as they waltz-tangoed to the mixture of both songs.
//I've been so many places,
Do I know you from somehere?//
The Angel was walking in a circumference to Ron, and they both fully turned round in an entire 360, the Angel walking majestically and gracefully, Ron staying in one spot, slowly pivoting to meet the Angel's gaze, all while still sharing the beat from the old song that was trailing off now with the words of the new.
//I've seen so many faces,
Why do you leave me wanting more?//
Ron wasn't sure what he saw in the Angel, or vice-versa, and he didn't realluy care. His heart was racing as he grabbed the Angel by both hands, and swung him underneath his legs, then pulled his leg over the Angel's head as he turned around and pulled the Angel up to his face. He couldn't talk, couldn't speak, but he knew something was happening even as they were dancing, something special, something pasiionate, something that burned Ron with a fire deep in his heart, that he could feel when he pressed the Angel up to his heart.
//But nothing compares to these blue and yellow purple hills,
Why do all the things I say sound like all the stupid things I've said before?//
Spun again, outwards, and he leaned on Ron's arm, forming a complicated move, on one foot as Ron swept him around, Ron now moving him in a circle, him staying in the one spot on one foot, as he was turned to face the crowd, his arm outstretched as if to touch them all, and Ron brought the Angel back in again, and they both locked eyesight as they both walked in a circle, one hand from each clasped in the other's, a perfect circle moving from the left-over flashes of light from their legs.
//I've climbed the highest mountain,
Do I know you from somewhere?//
Turn off the lights, thought Ron, and the world will still see our love illuminated, and we will always be here with each other, always, always this eternal dance, this constant mixture of feelings, such pureness and warmth, and the Angel was looking at him still, both of them in that circle, looking at each other.
//Once or twice but who's countin'?
Why do you leave me wanting more?//
Then, Ron spun the Angel towards him again, a bit rough, and when he reached Ron, their lips met, brushed chastely, and they went back to dancing, their clothes getting ripped from each of their violent moves. The fishnet shirt was gone about an eternity ago, and the muscle shirt was slowly splitting from the maniacal moves being placed on it. The Angel's dress shirt had lost all of its buttons, and was waving wildly, still attached by a charm to the Angel, and it was waving back and forth as they danced, showing off the gleaming white skin on his stomach, muscles sparse, but all of them that showed well developed.
//But nothing compares to these blue and yellow purple hills,
Why do all the things I say sound like the stupid things I've said before?//
Small, but long fingers were pressed into larger more muscled hands, and they each grasped hard, and they put their feet pressed against each other's, as they both leaned out, trusting completely the other one. Eyes were locked, glued towards each other, and they did a complete circle, and they stumbled, each of them, then, not facing each other anymore, and before they fell they jumped into a roll, and wound up getting out of it at the same time. They faced each other, and backflipped by each other, then dived into another roll, turned around again, both spinning, and Ron caught the Angel by his shoulders, and they kissed, sweat-slicked and happy, tired but exhilirated, like they could dance forever, caught in each other's embrace.
//Kiss me I'm dying,
Touch me I'm trying,
I'm not like this all the time,
I'm not like this all the time,//
Hands went under whatever remained of shirts, roamng over stomachs and backs, groping, each moaning into the other's kiss, and then, that's when Ron heard the Angel speak for the first time.
"Can't... leave... I'm... Gonna.... die...."
Of course all of it was muffled, and that was all that Ron caught of it, but if he caught the entire drift, he would've died right then.
"I plan on being here all night, if not into the next day!" Ron said, kissing down the smaller boy's neck.
//Put your hands on my skin,
Put your hands on my skin,
Put your hands on my skin,
Touch me I'm trying,//
"You... don't... get...it.... I... won't... be... around... much... longer..."
//Ohhhhohohoh
Put your hand on my skin,
Put your hand on my skin,
Put your hand on my skin,
I'm not like this all the time......//
"Then I'll go home with you!" Ron said, enjoying the cheek that he was licking.
The Angel pulled away from Ron, looked at him fearfully, shook his head, then ran, snagging a piece of his metal bracelet on the door, and ran into the backrooms as the white-haired man came out again, smiling at everyone. Ron went over and picked up the bracelet, stuck it in his pocket, and was apprehended by Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Ginny Weasely, Harry Potter, and Seamus Finnegan, all aplaudding, and the latter two with dark crimson lines on their mouths.
"Wow, Ron, I didn't know you could do that!" Ginny said, wide-eyed.
"Did you find your toad?" Ron asked back, almost conversationally as he tried to get thinking why the Angel could have left him.
"Yes. This beautiful boy had him, and we talked, and he goes to a school around here he said, and he's one year older than me and that's all!" Ginny said excitedly.
"That's... good..." Ron said, sighing.
He was congratulated by everyone on that Saturday night as he went back to his dorm room.
The next morning he noticedd that the Hufflepuff table was exceptionally quiet as Justin came to sit down. Missing a bracelet, along with the fact that Justin was moving to the music he had danced to the night before, in the exact posture. Ron blinked as he put both facts together
Justin was the Fallen Angel.
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Like that, do ya? Review, using the liddle ole box below. More chapters soon, on who this boy Ginny's in love with, Harry and Seamus' relationship, and Sirius and Remus'.
-Damy, 8-26-01
