14. …Severus Snape is undeniably tipsy
Draco looked torn. "But we have to be here at midnight to lead the first dance of the
New Year."
Ron was puzzled. "But it isn't even New Year's Eve yet, Draco." To this Draco simply
looked baffled. Ron felt he was missing something. "It's nine o'clock now. We can
come back at midnight. I really don't think I can take this for another three hours."
Draco brightened at this but then another thought flew visibly across his face. "I thought
you said I was doomed to torment in the deepest hells after that bite." Despite the fact
that he should be acting worried at this, Draco was grinning like an idiot. With the
vampire fangs it looked doubly stupid.
"Oh, don't worry," Ron said, taking Draco by the wrist and pulling him towards a side
door, "I'll make sure to get you for that when you least expect it."
Just before they reached the door, however, they were assaulted unexpectedly by Severus
Snape. If Ron hadn't known better he would have sworn the professor was tipsy.
"Draco, Blaise, so good you see you. Are you two enjoying yourselves?" Severus
winked suggestively at Draco, and Ron had to restrain himself from hiding behind his
partner. Okay, so the professor was drunk. What next? "I'm sure you have things to be
doing but I just thought I'd share a story that's bound to amuse you. I caught Harry
Potter and Hermione Granger stealing ingredients out of my cabinet yesterday." At this
news Ron stiffened, sure he was seconds from having his "cover" blown. "Don't ask me
what they thought they were doing. The only explanations they offered had something to
do with socks and Ron Weasley being a slut." At this the two (real) Slytherins chuckled
evilly and Ron's eyes narrowed. At the moment he was confused but when he figured
out who was responsible he would smite them.
Meanwhile, Snape was still drunk. "So, anyway, I took Harry Potter kappa hunting and
by the time we got back a nice bit of his hair was burned off. Makes him look like a
monk novice who chickened out before going all the way through with it." By now the
other two were laughing so hard that tears were streaming from their eyes. The side of
Ron that was aligned with good and Harry Potter (since the two were obviously
synonymous) was indignant. Anybody who would slight Harry this way deserved his
wrath. However, the recently emerging, evil new side of Ron was not going to easily
forget the fact that his friends had told a professor that he was a slut. The fact that it was
true was beside the point. Such a betrayal of friendship deserved one in its turn.
The evil side won. Pulling Draco against him and making a grab for his crotch Ron
purred, "It's about time we got going, don't you think?" Without saying a word, Draco
turned a made a beeline for the door. Snape merely made a sound halfway between a
giggle and a cackle as he watched them go.
Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were sitting on Hermione's bed, looking a bit
worried. The enchanted earring sitting on Hermione's table was ticking like a Geiger
counter, or like a bomb getting ready to explode.
"Maybe it's counting down till midnight," Ginny suggested hopefully. It was one of the
most vapid things either of the other two had ever heard her utter. The pure idiocy of the
statement caused a very extended silence to grow in the conversation.
Ron was very glad to escape the council room, which apparently also doubled as a
ballroom. Nobody had mentioned that to him, or the ball itself, for that matter. Next time
he was going to get some serious information before Polyjuicing himself into anybody
else. He held a monogrammed handkerchief ("DM," of course) to his breast to staunch
the bleeding there. Draco must have hit a major artery or something. Or whatever those
were called. The point was, he was annoyed. Mostly at Harry, for some reason. Harry
made a good scapegoat. (Ron liked Hermione a little too much to blame her for his
current predicament, but he was learning to make allowances.)
Draco was preening himself in front of the mirror, fussing with his hair and examining
his pointy teeth. Ron suddenly noticed that Draco's hair was a good deal longer than he
thought it was, and he didn't slick it back with the loads of hair gel that he did in their
younger years. Maybe being a girl means you notice these things, Ron mused.
A house elf discreetly entered the small room they were hidden in, left a platter of food,
and vanished. The room was about the size of Ron's back at the Burrow, but in Malfoy
Manor it seemed positively miniscule. It was more of a "nook" off one of the hallways,
curtained off with hangings of velvet green. It had a window that looked into the council
room (Ron assumed that it was invisible to those in the council room itself) and a plush
window seats lined the walls. It also had a very large mirror, much to Draco's delight.
The bleeding seemed to have ceased. Ron groaned. Something was honestly wrong with
him. He was in danger of blowing his cover and yet all he could think about was
charming away Draco's stupid pointy teeth and having his way with him on one of the
velvet benches. Ron was absolutely straight. He loved girls. He loved the magazines that
Harry kept underneath his bed in musty boxes. Heck, he loved Hermione. He'd never had
a serious girlfriend, but that was mostly because he was too chicken to ask Hermione out.
He had once gotten really drunk on whiskey and slept with a Hufflepuff girl, and had
loved it (even though he couldn't really remember much of the encounter). So why was
he so attracted to Draco? It made no sense.
Draco ceased his admiration of himself and came and sat next to Ron. "Well," he said,
"We have about two hours until midnight." He looked at the bitemark, his mouth
twitching in amusement. "What should we do?"
Ron, who had several cookies shoved inelegantly into his mouth, attempted to answer:
"Maa woofh noon."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
Ron swallowed and threw up his hands in frusteration. "Have sex! What else do we do?
Talk about our feelings? No! So take your clothes off and lets just DO it!"
Draco looked at him strangely, appearing rather like a deer with a huge spotlight being
shone in its head. Then, he laughed. Hysterically. He rolled onto the floor and chortled,
and Ron thought he could see tears running down his face.
"WHAT?" Ron asked peevishly.
"I don't…know…" Draco managed. "You're just acting so…WEIRD." He laughed a bit
more, then visibly gained control of himself, sitting up with great effort. "Usually you're
all 'No, Draco, it's not comfortable here.' 'The light's not right! Don't look at me!'
Usually you act like such a…GIRL!" He chuckled to himself, then looked with dismay at
his wrinkled cape.
Ron's mouth had dropped open in shock. He never thought that he made a good girl, of
course, but he was just acting like he thought girls should act. Apparently he'd been
wrong, and Blaise was even more high-maintenance than she seemed.
"It's fine," Draco said, sliding back up onto the seat. He suddenly looked very serious. "I
think I like you better this way."
Draco looked torn. "But we have to be here at midnight to lead the first dance of the
New Year."
Ron was puzzled. "But it isn't even New Year's Eve yet, Draco." To this Draco simply
looked baffled. Ron felt he was missing something. "It's nine o'clock now. We can
come back at midnight. I really don't think I can take this for another three hours."
Draco brightened at this but then another thought flew visibly across his face. "I thought
you said I was doomed to torment in the deepest hells after that bite." Despite the fact
that he should be acting worried at this, Draco was grinning like an idiot. With the
vampire fangs it looked doubly stupid.
"Oh, don't worry," Ron said, taking Draco by the wrist and pulling him towards a side
door, "I'll make sure to get you for that when you least expect it."
Just before they reached the door, however, they were assaulted unexpectedly by Severus
Snape. If Ron hadn't known better he would have sworn the professor was tipsy.
"Draco, Blaise, so good you see you. Are you two enjoying yourselves?" Severus
winked suggestively at Draco, and Ron had to restrain himself from hiding behind his
partner. Okay, so the professor was drunk. What next? "I'm sure you have things to be
doing but I just thought I'd share a story that's bound to amuse you. I caught Harry
Potter and Hermione Granger stealing ingredients out of my cabinet yesterday." At this
news Ron stiffened, sure he was seconds from having his "cover" blown. "Don't ask me
what they thought they were doing. The only explanations they offered had something to
do with socks and Ron Weasley being a slut." At this the two (real) Slytherins chuckled
evilly and Ron's eyes narrowed. At the moment he was confused but when he figured
out who was responsible he would smite them.
Meanwhile, Snape was still drunk. "So, anyway, I took Harry Potter kappa hunting and
by the time we got back a nice bit of his hair was burned off. Makes him look like a
monk novice who chickened out before going all the way through with it." By now the
other two were laughing so hard that tears were streaming from their eyes. The side of
Ron that was aligned with good and Harry Potter (since the two were obviously
synonymous) was indignant. Anybody who would slight Harry this way deserved his
wrath. However, the recently emerging, evil new side of Ron was not going to easily
forget the fact that his friends had told a professor that he was a slut. The fact that it was
true was beside the point. Such a betrayal of friendship deserved one in its turn.
The evil side won. Pulling Draco against him and making a grab for his crotch Ron
purred, "It's about time we got going, don't you think?" Without saying a word, Draco
turned a made a beeline for the door. Snape merely made a sound halfway between a
giggle and a cackle as he watched them go.
Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were sitting on Hermione's bed, looking a bit
worried. The enchanted earring sitting on Hermione's table was ticking like a Geiger
counter, or like a bomb getting ready to explode.
"Maybe it's counting down till midnight," Ginny suggested hopefully. It was one of the
most vapid things either of the other two had ever heard her utter. The pure idiocy of the
statement caused a very extended silence to grow in the conversation.
Ron was very glad to escape the council room, which apparently also doubled as a
ballroom. Nobody had mentioned that to him, or the ball itself, for that matter. Next time
he was going to get some serious information before Polyjuicing himself into anybody
else. He held a monogrammed handkerchief ("DM," of course) to his breast to staunch
the bleeding there. Draco must have hit a major artery or something. Or whatever those
were called. The point was, he was annoyed. Mostly at Harry, for some reason. Harry
made a good scapegoat. (Ron liked Hermione a little too much to blame her for his
current predicament, but he was learning to make allowances.)
Draco was preening himself in front of the mirror, fussing with his hair and examining
his pointy teeth. Ron suddenly noticed that Draco's hair was a good deal longer than he
thought it was, and he didn't slick it back with the loads of hair gel that he did in their
younger years. Maybe being a girl means you notice these things, Ron mused.
A house elf discreetly entered the small room they were hidden in, left a platter of food,
and vanished. The room was about the size of Ron's back at the Burrow, but in Malfoy
Manor it seemed positively miniscule. It was more of a "nook" off one of the hallways,
curtained off with hangings of velvet green. It had a window that looked into the council
room (Ron assumed that it was invisible to those in the council room itself) and a plush
window seats lined the walls. It also had a very large mirror, much to Draco's delight.
The bleeding seemed to have ceased. Ron groaned. Something was honestly wrong with
him. He was in danger of blowing his cover and yet all he could think about was
charming away Draco's stupid pointy teeth and having his way with him on one of the
velvet benches. Ron was absolutely straight. He loved girls. He loved the magazines that
Harry kept underneath his bed in musty boxes. Heck, he loved Hermione. He'd never had
a serious girlfriend, but that was mostly because he was too chicken to ask Hermione out.
He had once gotten really drunk on whiskey and slept with a Hufflepuff girl, and had
loved it (even though he couldn't really remember much of the encounter). So why was
he so attracted to Draco? It made no sense.
Draco ceased his admiration of himself and came and sat next to Ron. "Well," he said,
"We have about two hours until midnight." He looked at the bitemark, his mouth
twitching in amusement. "What should we do?"
Ron, who had several cookies shoved inelegantly into his mouth, attempted to answer:
"Maa woofh noon."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
Ron swallowed and threw up his hands in frusteration. "Have sex! What else do we do?
Talk about our feelings? No! So take your clothes off and lets just DO it!"
Draco looked at him strangely, appearing rather like a deer with a huge spotlight being
shone in its head. Then, he laughed. Hysterically. He rolled onto the floor and chortled,
and Ron thought he could see tears running down his face.
"WHAT?" Ron asked peevishly.
"I don't…know…" Draco managed. "You're just acting so…WEIRD." He laughed a bit
more, then visibly gained control of himself, sitting up with great effort. "Usually you're
all 'No, Draco, it's not comfortable here.' 'The light's not right! Don't look at me!'
Usually you act like such a…GIRL!" He chuckled to himself, then looked with dismay at
his wrinkled cape.
Ron's mouth had dropped open in shock. He never thought that he made a good girl, of
course, but he was just acting like he thought girls should act. Apparently he'd been
wrong, and Blaise was even more high-maintenance than she seemed.
"It's fine," Draco said, sliding back up onto the seat. He suddenly looked very serious. "I
think I like you better this way."