8. …Draco and Ron hamper each other terribly by Extreme
Proximity
"Hah! Hah, hah, hah, hah. I now own a full three quarters of Diagon Alley. Try to avoid
me now you old hoarder," Ron crowed, having just acquired a very strategically placed
Ollivander's.
"Yet I hold the key to Gringott's Bank. Whatever shall you do?" Lucius had long since
perfected the sneer of "I'm better than you are and you know it" and it dripped from his
voice as he dangled the duce property he had acquired early in the game and used to a
ruthless advantage.
Ron snarled and slouched back into his chair. Once he had started to get a hang of the
rules, the game had become less and less a quiet family weekend amusement and more
and more an out and out war between Ron and Lucius, both determined to conquer.
Narcissa's gains had dwindled early on and she had quit after about an hour, feigning
boredom. Draco had managed to acquire Hogwarts but it was obvious, three hours into
the game, that he had minor player status. He was looking a bit droopy in his place across
the dining table from Ron when he wasn't being bitchy and making sarcastic comments,
which the other two completely ignored. In war, it was the focus that mattered.
Apparently Draco reached his limit after being virtually ignored and beaten conclusively
for the past couple of hours. He made a sort of screeching sound and stood up abruptly,
causing his chair to topple over in comedic slow motion. He moved swiftly around to the
other side of the table, placing his hands on Ron's shoulders and squeezing perhaps a
fraction more than was necessary.
"Don't you think the game has lasted long enough? How about you two call it a tie and I
can take you down to the swamp and show you my pet water dragon." His hand
wandered down to Ron's thigh and his fingers started toying with the dress, suggesting a
few other things he'd like to show him.
"Not now, Draco. I'm trying to concentrate." Ron absently slapped Draco's hand away
and watched intently as the tiny Lucius on the board began its determined move ten
spaces forward. Draco turned and stalked from the room, muttering something
unintelligible as Lucius bought Flourish and Blotts.
"But she's petrified. People don't change who are petrified."
"But she needs nutrients. Think of all the trouble people go to to keep coma patients
alive."
"But she's not a coma patient. Look at her. She's fine." Harry pulled open Hermione's
closet and pointed at Blaise who silently gasped at them from between Hermione's coats.
"You're just paranoid because of the way we messed up on the listening device. You're
inventing problems Hermione. Besides, how could we feed her without waking her up?
Have you figured out that one?"
Meanwhile, Professor Severus Snape was stalking down the corridor toward the
Gryffindor tower with an evil glint in his eye and a firm set to his shoulder that had
students guiltily ducking into side rooms.
"We should at least make sure that she's alright!" Hermione was trying to wrestle the
hard slab of well-toned Slytherin babe out of her closet while Harry did his utmost to
hinder her. Slipping and making a dramatically slow drop to the ground, Blaise hit the
floor with a loud thud at the same moment a measured, thundering knock sounded at
Hermione's door. "Quick, get her under the bed." The two struggled frantically to hide
the inert body before the door swung menacingly inward.
"How about this? I'll let you have that last property and you can win if you give me a
kiss from those beautiful, cherry red lips of yours." Lucius smiled evilly across the table
at Ron who was scowling furiously.
"How dare you suggest such a thing?!" Ron screeched, knowing full well that he had lost
and pissed as all hell about it. "I've had enough of this." He pushed back his chair and
flounced from the room, making it several yards down the hallway before realizing what
he was doing and changing it into an angry stalk. It was now confirmed. Lucius Malfoy
was the spawn of the devil and Ron Weasley would find a way to make him pay if it took
three hundred lifetimes.
"He won, didn't he?" Ron was so mad he just about punched Draco who had
materialized in one of the side doorways.
"Yes, the bloody bastard won and then rubbed it in my face." Ron got this far before
trailing off into strangled gibberish.
"Yes, he always wins. I probably should have warned you but I didn't know you would
get that competitive." Draco was rubbing Ron's shoulder in an obvious attempt to calm
him, which was strangely close to working. "And I had such a lovely morning planned."
Draco pouted and Ron felt a tiny fraction of his anger cool at the sight of his soft lips so
effectively displayed.
Ron was on the edge of saying something in apology for so thoroughly ignoring Draco
for the entire morning, guessing that girlfriends probably didn't go to spend time with
their boyfriends and wind up ignoring him to play chess with his father. However, the
moment their eyes locked, Ron's stomach gave a very loud and prolonged gurgle.
"I guess five hours of monopoly works up an appetite, huh?" Draco smiled, taking Ron
around the waist and leading him down the hall to the kitchen. Once there it became
apparent that the cook was taking some kind of break and nowhere to be seen. Draco was
just raising one impatient and imperious hand to ring the bell when Ron stopped him.
"It's ok. I'll just make some sandwiches. The stuff shouldn't be too hard to find."
Draco looked baffled but made no protest as Ron started rummaging through the
cupboards. It wasn't long before the sandwiches were made. One for Draco (who had
decided to see whether it was possible to produce edible food for oneself), two for Ron
and one more just in case.
"How about we take these upstairs?" Draco smiled wickedly and licked a wayward fleck
of mustard off of the tip of Ron's nose. Ron bit his lip, debating. On the one hand, he
had already accomplished his mission and it no longer really mattered what he did as
long as he eventually made it back to Hogwarts. He had already strayed down this path.
What could one more encounter with those supple lips and agile hands really do to him?
On the other hand was the fact that he was famished. But the sandwiches would be
coming with, so it was all good.
The sandwiches were stacked on a plate and the pair began unsteadily wending their way
toward the stairs, hampering each other terribly by extreme proximity. Ron was much
closer to giggling than he was sure he had ever been since he was two. Details would
definitely NOT be forthcoming if Harry and Hermione asked him what he had done
during his stay at Malfoy Manor. He had a feeling that even mentioning the Monopoly,
which should have been great for a laugh, would be terribly damning. That was the
problem. He was investing too many emotions into all of this.
And Draco's hand was much too far up his skirt. If he didn't concentrate, Ron was going
to drop the plate of sandwiches. But then Draco had him pressed up against one of the
many doors lining the hallway and the sandwiches were beginning to slide. Attention
equally divided between the perilously perched lunch and Draco's lips, which were
beginning to travel down his neck, Ron nearly missed the sound of footsteps advancing
and certainly soon to round the corner.
Draco heard it in time though and quickly opened the door so that Ron practically fell
into the room behind. Draco quickly and silently shut the door, and they listened with
held breath as the footsteps passed by without falter. Ron sighed. From the sound of the
tread it must have been Lucius and that was certainly the last person Ron wanted to see at
the moment.
"Well, this should do for our 'lunch'," Draco practically cackled behind him. Ron turned
and froze. It was, of course, the council room.
"Nononononono, not in here," Ron pleaded trying to think of a good excuse. "What if
your dad walks in?"
"Oh, he won't." Draco was practically purring. "It's a Saturday. He never has meetings
on Saturdays."
"But but but…" Ron couldn't think of any more excuses and Draco was industriously
piling chair cushions in a heap on the floor. Ron slumped into a chair, giving in to the
inevitable. After all, Harry and Hermione might have left the amplifier off anyway. And
besides, if they heard anything weird and mentioned it he could always deny it. Ron
began to reflect on the strong power of denial. It wasn't as though he and Draco were the
only two people in the house. As consolation, Ron started munching on one of his
sandwiches. It was actually pretty good.
"Why don't you come down here to eat those?" Draco had apparently finished
redecorating. Thinking of no reason not to, Ron picked up the plate of sandwiches and
plopped down on the floor, leaning back against a stack of chair cushions.
Looking up and seeing Draco staring at him intently, he managed to speak around a wad
of turkey and lettuce. "Aren't you going to eat yours?"
"As a matter of fact I was just thinking about that." Draco reached out and gently
straightened out Ron's legs, removing the high-heeled shoes as he went. He then lightly
picked up a sandwich from atop the stack and discarded the top half of bread. With a
curling smile he gently draped a piece of turkey over Ron's ankle.
Proximity
"Hah! Hah, hah, hah, hah. I now own a full three quarters of Diagon Alley. Try to avoid
me now you old hoarder," Ron crowed, having just acquired a very strategically placed
Ollivander's.
"Yet I hold the key to Gringott's Bank. Whatever shall you do?" Lucius had long since
perfected the sneer of "I'm better than you are and you know it" and it dripped from his
voice as he dangled the duce property he had acquired early in the game and used to a
ruthless advantage.
Ron snarled and slouched back into his chair. Once he had started to get a hang of the
rules, the game had become less and less a quiet family weekend amusement and more
and more an out and out war between Ron and Lucius, both determined to conquer.
Narcissa's gains had dwindled early on and she had quit after about an hour, feigning
boredom. Draco had managed to acquire Hogwarts but it was obvious, three hours into
the game, that he had minor player status. He was looking a bit droopy in his place across
the dining table from Ron when he wasn't being bitchy and making sarcastic comments,
which the other two completely ignored. In war, it was the focus that mattered.
Apparently Draco reached his limit after being virtually ignored and beaten conclusively
for the past couple of hours. He made a sort of screeching sound and stood up abruptly,
causing his chair to topple over in comedic slow motion. He moved swiftly around to the
other side of the table, placing his hands on Ron's shoulders and squeezing perhaps a
fraction more than was necessary.
"Don't you think the game has lasted long enough? How about you two call it a tie and I
can take you down to the swamp and show you my pet water dragon." His hand
wandered down to Ron's thigh and his fingers started toying with the dress, suggesting a
few other things he'd like to show him.
"Not now, Draco. I'm trying to concentrate." Ron absently slapped Draco's hand away
and watched intently as the tiny Lucius on the board began its determined move ten
spaces forward. Draco turned and stalked from the room, muttering something
unintelligible as Lucius bought Flourish and Blotts.
"But she's petrified. People don't change who are petrified."
"But she needs nutrients. Think of all the trouble people go to to keep coma patients
alive."
"But she's not a coma patient. Look at her. She's fine." Harry pulled open Hermione's
closet and pointed at Blaise who silently gasped at them from between Hermione's coats.
"You're just paranoid because of the way we messed up on the listening device. You're
inventing problems Hermione. Besides, how could we feed her without waking her up?
Have you figured out that one?"
Meanwhile, Professor Severus Snape was stalking down the corridor toward the
Gryffindor tower with an evil glint in his eye and a firm set to his shoulder that had
students guiltily ducking into side rooms.
"We should at least make sure that she's alright!" Hermione was trying to wrestle the
hard slab of well-toned Slytherin babe out of her closet while Harry did his utmost to
hinder her. Slipping and making a dramatically slow drop to the ground, Blaise hit the
floor with a loud thud at the same moment a measured, thundering knock sounded at
Hermione's door. "Quick, get her under the bed." The two struggled frantically to hide
the inert body before the door swung menacingly inward.
"How about this? I'll let you have that last property and you can win if you give me a
kiss from those beautiful, cherry red lips of yours." Lucius smiled evilly across the table
at Ron who was scowling furiously.
"How dare you suggest such a thing?!" Ron screeched, knowing full well that he had lost
and pissed as all hell about it. "I've had enough of this." He pushed back his chair and
flounced from the room, making it several yards down the hallway before realizing what
he was doing and changing it into an angry stalk. It was now confirmed. Lucius Malfoy
was the spawn of the devil and Ron Weasley would find a way to make him pay if it took
three hundred lifetimes.
"He won, didn't he?" Ron was so mad he just about punched Draco who had
materialized in one of the side doorways.
"Yes, the bloody bastard won and then rubbed it in my face." Ron got this far before
trailing off into strangled gibberish.
"Yes, he always wins. I probably should have warned you but I didn't know you would
get that competitive." Draco was rubbing Ron's shoulder in an obvious attempt to calm
him, which was strangely close to working. "And I had such a lovely morning planned."
Draco pouted and Ron felt a tiny fraction of his anger cool at the sight of his soft lips so
effectively displayed.
Ron was on the edge of saying something in apology for so thoroughly ignoring Draco
for the entire morning, guessing that girlfriends probably didn't go to spend time with
their boyfriends and wind up ignoring him to play chess with his father. However, the
moment their eyes locked, Ron's stomach gave a very loud and prolonged gurgle.
"I guess five hours of monopoly works up an appetite, huh?" Draco smiled, taking Ron
around the waist and leading him down the hall to the kitchen. Once there it became
apparent that the cook was taking some kind of break and nowhere to be seen. Draco was
just raising one impatient and imperious hand to ring the bell when Ron stopped him.
"It's ok. I'll just make some sandwiches. The stuff shouldn't be too hard to find."
Draco looked baffled but made no protest as Ron started rummaging through the
cupboards. It wasn't long before the sandwiches were made. One for Draco (who had
decided to see whether it was possible to produce edible food for oneself), two for Ron
and one more just in case.
"How about we take these upstairs?" Draco smiled wickedly and licked a wayward fleck
of mustard off of the tip of Ron's nose. Ron bit his lip, debating. On the one hand, he
had already accomplished his mission and it no longer really mattered what he did as
long as he eventually made it back to Hogwarts. He had already strayed down this path.
What could one more encounter with those supple lips and agile hands really do to him?
On the other hand was the fact that he was famished. But the sandwiches would be
coming with, so it was all good.
The sandwiches were stacked on a plate and the pair began unsteadily wending their way
toward the stairs, hampering each other terribly by extreme proximity. Ron was much
closer to giggling than he was sure he had ever been since he was two. Details would
definitely NOT be forthcoming if Harry and Hermione asked him what he had done
during his stay at Malfoy Manor. He had a feeling that even mentioning the Monopoly,
which should have been great for a laugh, would be terribly damning. That was the
problem. He was investing too many emotions into all of this.
And Draco's hand was much too far up his skirt. If he didn't concentrate, Ron was going
to drop the plate of sandwiches. But then Draco had him pressed up against one of the
many doors lining the hallway and the sandwiches were beginning to slide. Attention
equally divided between the perilously perched lunch and Draco's lips, which were
beginning to travel down his neck, Ron nearly missed the sound of footsteps advancing
and certainly soon to round the corner.
Draco heard it in time though and quickly opened the door so that Ron practically fell
into the room behind. Draco quickly and silently shut the door, and they listened with
held breath as the footsteps passed by without falter. Ron sighed. From the sound of the
tread it must have been Lucius and that was certainly the last person Ron wanted to see at
the moment.
"Well, this should do for our 'lunch'," Draco practically cackled behind him. Ron turned
and froze. It was, of course, the council room.
"Nononononono, not in here," Ron pleaded trying to think of a good excuse. "What if
your dad walks in?"
"Oh, he won't." Draco was practically purring. "It's a Saturday. He never has meetings
on Saturdays."
"But but but…" Ron couldn't think of any more excuses and Draco was industriously
piling chair cushions in a heap on the floor. Ron slumped into a chair, giving in to the
inevitable. After all, Harry and Hermione might have left the amplifier off anyway. And
besides, if they heard anything weird and mentioned it he could always deny it. Ron
began to reflect on the strong power of denial. It wasn't as though he and Draco were the
only two people in the house. As consolation, Ron started munching on one of his
sandwiches. It was actually pretty good.
"Why don't you come down here to eat those?" Draco had apparently finished
redecorating. Thinking of no reason not to, Ron picked up the plate of sandwiches and
plopped down on the floor, leaning back against a stack of chair cushions.
Looking up and seeing Draco staring at him intently, he managed to speak around a wad
of turkey and lettuce. "Aren't you going to eat yours?"
"As a matter of fact I was just thinking about that." Draco reached out and gently
straightened out Ron's legs, removing the high-heeled shoes as he went. He then lightly
picked up a sandwich from atop the stack and discarded the top half of bread. With a
curling smile he gently draped a piece of turkey over Ron's ankle.