Title: Strange Bedfellows: A Comedy of Assumptions
Author: Mad Maudlin
Email: mekamorph@yahoo.com
Catergory: Humor, and a little romance
Keywords: Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, slash, 5th year
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: Teensy ones for Book Four, microscopic one for Book Two
Summary: Murder, mayhem, madness and Malfoy! Harry and Hermione face down an unexpected conspiracy, a possible nefarious plot, wild rumors and much, much worse to save their best friend from a terrible fate...right?

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

In other words, they're not mine; talk to the nice Scottish lady.

A/N: WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! This fic contains SLASH (male-on-male) SITUATIONS! Boys kiss boys! Boys do a lot more than kiss boys! It's SLASH! If this is the sort of thing that might offend you, do not read any further! I have a right to speak freely, but you have a right not to listen. So exercise your "Back" button! Bill put 'em there for something...

Strange Bedfellows:

A Comedy of Assumptions

by Mad Maudlin

5 / Closets, Eels, Hickeys, Charms

Hermione's brilliant plan came to her in the small hours of the morning, but she quickly recognized that it wouldn't be easy. Harry would not want to help. But she could make him help, couldn't she? Hedwig had to come near her some time, and he wasn't nearly as good at animal-to-animal transfiguration as she was. Granted, she wasn't certain that it would look good for a prefect to take an innocent post owl hostage, but since he'd already forbidden her to go to Professor McGonagall, there wasn't much choice. Thoroughly satisfied with her reasoning, she passed out in her Arithmancy homework.

The next morning, all the fifth-year boys seems rather drowsy. Hermione caught Harry's elbow as he was heading out the portrait hole and dragged him back to her dormitory. "Harry, I've got an idea."

"Good morning to you, too, Hermione. Why are there long columns of two-digit numbers on the side of your face?"

"Are you listening? Because this is a good plan."

"I'm listening." He yawned.

"Good. Now, we know that Malfoy is trying to seduce Ron to the Dark Arts."

"We do?"

"Yes, Harry, please try to keep up with the situation."

"Whatever you say."

"Exactly. We know that Malfoy is trying to seduce Ron to the Dark Arts, and, failing that, wants to kill him."

"Wait a minute-"

"In fact, he may succeed in seducing him to the Dark Arts and kill him anyway, because this is Malfoy we're talking about, he doesn't make any sense."

"When did the killing start?"

"Harry, please pay attention!"

"I have been, and I'm not sure it's helped!"

Hermione sighed. Her brilliant plan was did not look very brilliant when Harry used that voice on her. "All right. Let's assume that Malfoy is trying to seduce Ron to the Dark Arts and possibly kill him. All right?"

"All right," he said cautiously.

"Now," she continued, eager to get to the good bit, "the first thing we should do is tell Professor McGonagall about it, but since you won't let me, the next thing we should do is stand watch on Ron day and night to protect him from Malfoy's nefarious intentions."

Harry sighed. "Hermione, what did I tell you about looking out for Ron's best interests? Didn't I use the word 'don't'?"

"You are interrupting me," she said harshly. "Now, since you won't let me do that either, I've decided that the best thing we could do is to catch Malfoy in the act of trying to murder Ron, because we'll still be able to rescue Ron, and we can get enough evidence to make sure he gets expelled, or at least gets detentions until the end of the year, and we all know that by then something awful will have happened to you and everything will be different again."

She beamed at him.

"Hermione," Harry said slowly, "are you sure you didn't hit your head when you fell in the library?"

She glared at him. How dare he ridicule her brilliant plan! Especially when he was the one who wouldn't let her go to McGonagall or start casting protective charms on Ron's socks! "Fine!" she shrieked. "Be that way! Go ahead and let Malfoy kill Ron! Let's give him the password and a map to the common room! As a matter of fact, let's kill him ourselves! I certainly think it'd be a grand idea! I'll hold him down, and you can hit him with a hammer!"

"Hermione, please-"

"No, really, Harry! I'm serious! Let's kill Ron and wash our hands of the whole thing! Crabbe, and Goyle, and Malfoy, and everything! Wait a just a minute while I sharpen my straight razors!"

"Hermione!" Harry seized her by the shoulders. "I don't want to kill Ron! I don't want Ron to be killed by anyone else, either! In fact, I'd like to keep death out of this entirely! Okay?"

She took several deep breaths. "Okay."

Somebody said, "Ahem."

Hermione whirled around and found a very, very nervous-looking Lavender Brown lingering the doorway. Lavender swallowed hard several times. "I forgot my Charms book," she said, very quietly.

"We don't have Charms today," Hermione reminded her. "We've got Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, then after lunch is double Herbology, and Astronomy tonight."

"Oh, right..." Lavender backed slowly out of the room. "Well, I'll just be going, then..." And she fled.

Harry buried his face in his hands. "Great. Just great. By the time we get down to breakfast, the whole school is going to think we're out to murder Ron."

"Oh, don't be stupid, Harry, nobody will believe that." Hermione grabbed her bag and started down the stairs.

"Really?" he said morosely. "Just like nobody believed that I was the heir of Slytherin? Or that you were the love goddess of Gryffindor Tower?"

Hermione considered the thought for a moment, then sighed. "You're right. We'd better catch Ron before class and explain."

"Explain what? That we're not really trying to kill him, but Malfoy might be, so we're got your Brilliant Plan?"

"Well, when you put it that way, of course it sounds stupid!" She found herself thinking that Harry really needed to learn something about teamwork, especially if he wanted to be Quidditch captain next year. She then told herself off for being uncharitable to Harry. "Come on, we'll miss breakfast."

This addendum to the Brilliant Plan was interrupted, however, by Crabbe and Goyle, who intercepted them in the entry hall. "Can we beat up Weasley now?" Goyle asked eagerly.

Crabbe added, "We've got evidence,"

Hermione noticed Ernie Macmillan watching them avidly, and decided that she didn't need two of the biggest gossips in her year spreading rumors about Ron's fate. "Come over here," she said, beckoning Crabbe and Goyle towards a handy broom closet. When they were close enough, she shoved them inside, then dragged Harry in afterwards and shut the door. It was very tight fit, and strong odor of Goyle made her eyes burn. "Now," she said, "what is your evidence?"

Crabbe took a deep breath. "Well, Draco snuck out of the dormitory after lights-out last night and we tried to follow him, we really did, but he jumped out of a window with his broom and we didn't have brooms and we can't fly so of course we couldn't follow him, but when he got back he was talking to himself about Weasley and calling him names and things and, and-" he leaning in very close, "-he had a hickey!"

"And he took another shower," Goyle added helpfully. "At three o'clock."

Harry turned around and banged his head against a wall. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him curiously until Hermione grabbed him by the neck of his robes and made him stop. "Er...Vince, Greg...I want you to think very hard," she said slowly. "What exactly did Malfoy call Ron?"

They screwed up their faces in concentration. "He called him a bastard," Crabbe said finally, "and a git and a wanker, and clumsy bastard, and a wanker again...and he said he should tie him up and teach him who was boss--Draco said it, I mean--and that next time would be, next time..."

"Slow torture," Goyle grunted.

"Right. And he said Weasley's wand was too damn big, too." They looked anxiously at Hermione and Harry, apparently waiting for confirmation of their evidence so they could beat up Ron.

Harry opened his mouth, but before he could say anything. Hermione grabbed a handy bucket and put it over his head. "Thank you very much, gentlemen, but I'm afraid that's still not enough evidence. You'll just have to get more."

"More?" Goyle wailed. "How much more?"

"Well, if it's really, really good..."

Crabbe sighed. "Come on, Greg, let's go get more."

"But Vince..."

"Come on, or we'll never get to be beat up Weasley."

"Oh, fine. I like it better when Draco orders me around."

"Shut up..."

Once the two Slytherins were out of the broom closet, she removed the bucket from a squirming Harry, who glared at her. "Hermione, this has got to stop. You're getting unreasonable."

She scoffed loudly. "I am perfectly reasonable, Harry, or weren't you listening?"

"Well, not to the last bit, due in part to big filthy bucket on my head..."

"Malfoy was out plotting something last night! Something to do with Ron's wand! And he wants to torture him!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione, he had a hickey. A hickey. He probably snuck out to meet a girl somewhere and they were snogging. I mean, just because we don't have sex lives doesn't mean we have to go messing about with other people's...especially Malfoy's...oh, god, I'm never going to get that image out of my brain..."

She sighed explosively. "Crabbe said it was a hickey, Harry, Vincent Crabbe. Do you honestly think he knows a genuine hickey from a sedated wombat? And don't you think it's a bit odd that Malfoy should sneak out of the castle to snog with a girl, then go around and complain about Ron later?"

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. "All right. So maybe it's a little suspicious. But, I mean, you still think Malfoy wants to kill him?"

"Malfoy's obviously gone mad, Harry, who knows what he thinks?" She paused. "And what do you mean, we haven't got sex lives?"

He turned very red. "I didn't mean to imply anything..."

"I'll have you know I have a perfectly fulfilling sex life!"

"I'm sure you do!"

"Don't you use that tone of voice with me!"

"What tone of voice?"

"That one!"

"What one?"

"Harry Potter, you apologize right now for casting aspersions on my sex life or I shall feed you to the eels!"

"What eels?"

"Harry!"

He cowered against the door of the closet. "I'm sorry, all right, I'm sorry! I never meant to imply that you didn't have a rewarding sex life! I take it back! Please don't hurt me!"

Hermione relaxed, and smoothed her hair back. She realized she was holding a bottle of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover in much the same manner as a troll clutches its club; she set it aside. "All right, then. Thank you. That's all I ask." She took a very deep breath, then shouldered her bag again. "We should be getting to breakfast."

"Okay," Harry said, eyes still popping slightly.

"And we're still agreed to the original plan?"

"Er...sure." He turned the door handle. "After all, if I said 'no," you'd kidnap my owl, right?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but didn't get a chance to. When Harry pushed open the closet door, they came face-to face with a small crowd of slack-jawed spectators, including Ernie Macmillan, Colin Creevey, Natalie MacDonald, Sarah Fawcett, and Professor Sinistra. Almost in unison, they all turned (some had to stand up) and walked away, talking in very loud voices about the weather.

Harry looked at her uneasily. "How much do you reckon they heard?"

"Oh, nothing important, I'm sure."

"Just you screaming about eels, right?"

"Shut up, Harry, we're late for breakfast."

A/N 2: Harry's line, "I have been, and I'm not sure it's helped," was originally uttered by Arthur Dent in Life, the Universe and Everything by Douglas Adams. It's an excellent book and you should all read it as soon as you're done with this.