"So you found out something Harry's not telling either of us?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any idea why he doesn't want us to know? Is it about You-Know-Who?"
"No. At least, I hope not."
"Ron!"
"Well, he's not hurt. But he's been doing things."
"What sorts of things?"
Ron could feel his face turning pink. Arrgh.
"Things that are probably why he doesn't want us to know about."
"He's not drinking, is he? Smoking?"
"No, Hermione!"
"And you aren't telling me because it's Harry's secret and you found out by accident."
"Yes."
"I think we should wait until Harry decides to tell us himself, if it's so bad, judging from your reaction."
"Oh, it's bad all right."
"But not dangerous."
"I don't know! I think it is, but you know Harry, danger follows him around. I bet he's gotten used to it, or something."
"So it is dangerous?"
"I don't know. I just don't like it."
"Well, then, since you won't tell me what's going on," Hermione gave him a sharp glare, "Then you talk to Harry about it yourself."
"Um, Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"You know how I said that whatever happens to you, I'd let you explain?"
Harry glanced at Ron, a wary expression on his face.
"Yes."
"Well. Um. I've noticed that you get out of bed late at night. With the cloak."
"I just couldn't sleep, that's all."
Ron felt hurt. Harry was lying. About Malfoy, of course, but he was lying.
"Harry… I know. About where you go."
Ron took a deep breath.
"And I want you to tell me why it's with Malfoy."
Harry closed his eyes and he adjusted his glasses.
"It's a long story."
"Isn't everything a long story with us, Harry?"
"You aren't mad?"
"Confused. A little mad, yeah. But I did promise to listen."
Harry smiled, relieved.
"Okay. But it's Malfoy's secret too."
"Just tell me what's going on."
"So," Ron gulped, "You and him?"
"Just that one time."
"That. Is so. Gross."
Ron made flapping motions with his hands, as if to push away the thought that Harry and Malfoy had sex. He felt distinctly nauseous.
"Believe me, I wasn't too happy when I woke up."
"That is so weird. Like Fleur!"
"Ron, you absolutely promise not to tell anyone? Not even Hermione?"
"Duh! Nobody needs to know what you two did!"
Harry and Ron were walking from History of Magic, when Harry stopped in his tracks.
"Ron?"
"Hm?"
"Malfoy needs to see me."
"How do you know?"
Harry was staring at the floor.
"Oh. Oh, ew! He's sending you horny vibes!"
"Ron!"
They rounded a corner and Malfoy was waiting. When he saw Ron, Harry could see him frown with annoyance and turn around to avoid being seen with them. He ran and caught the edge of Malfoy's sleeve.
"Get your filthy hands off me, Potty."
"Malfoy. He knows."
Draco whirled around and scowled at Ron.
"What!?"
Harry nodded.
"Potter, you promised not to tell!" Draco growled.
"I didn't! He found out by accident!"
Draco didn't look any less upset. He stepped up to Ron.
"You had better not let a word of this out, got it? If you do, I'll not be held responsible for what happens!"
"Harry's my friend, Malfoy. I'll keep the secret for him, not you."
Malfoy snorted.
"That fine Gryffindor sense of honor is good for something, then. Make sure you keep your mouth shut."
Draco turned his head to look at Harry.
"Tonight. I have a study session this Saturday."
He walked away and Ron rolled his eyes.
"Prat."
"I know."
Harry found an agitated Draco pacing their meeting room.
"Zabini being troublesome again?"
Draco glared.
"No. Much worse."
Harry flopped onto the couch. Draco began the rubdown.
"Well?"
"Disgusting, gross…" Draco muttered.
"What?"
"Weasley. Is-"
"Don't insult Ron!"
Draco sneered.
"Incredibly hot."
Harry blinked. And blinked.
"Excuse me. But I thought I heard you say Ron was incredibly hot."
"Yes. You heard me. I just realized what a tasty hunk of man meat Weasley is. I feel nauseated to the extreme."
"Uh… Why?"
Draco punched a pillow in frustration.
"A Weasley. It's ironic. I've always felt Weasleys are inferior and completely common."
Harry rolled his eyes and settled down for a long rant.
"And dirty. Very dirty."
He continued to list all the shortcomings of the Weasley line for some time. Harry suppressed a yawn. Draco sighed disconsolately.
"Weasley, that git, just oozes ripe male virility. I can smell it. Now I know why Weasleys breed like rabbits. It's impossible for a woman to just have sex with a Weasley male once with all that sheer masculinity they have."
Harry was struck by the absurd incongruity of what Draco just said with one Percy Weasley.
"You will not laugh at me, Potter!"
"Sorry. It wasn't you. Just…"
Harry collapsed into barely suppressed snickers.
"I am not amused."
"But it doesn't make any sense," Harry sobered, "Ron can't get any dates. And Fleur rejected him for Davies."
"She was how much older than him? And really, Potter, he was just a lot of noise with freckles on it back then. Now…"
Draco gritted his teeth.
"He's so masculine. Unbelievable."
"So you like him now?"
"That's the point. I don't like him. He's boorish, loud, entirely disrespectful…"
"Well, he can say plenty of things about you, you know."
"But such raw maleness," Draco ignored Harry, "Is just rare. Rare I tell you, and I want him, and I don't want to want him! I hate this!"
Harry winced, as Draco's hands had ceased massaging and were beginning to clench into his ribs.
"Careful. I'm not made out of clay, you know."
"Yes, well, Weasley's too much. Touching you isn't making me feel any better."
"Oh. So what do you want me to do?"
"Deliver him to my bed wrapped in a ribbon."
"Uh…"
"Just shut up and don't ask any more questions. I don't need to make any more embarrassing statements in your presence."
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Where'd my other T-shirt go? I just wore it two days ago."
"Laundry maybe?"
Ron shook his head.
"I didn't put it in the hamper."
Harry was glad Ron went to ask the other boys. He was sure his face would give him away. Right now Draco was probably inhaling Ron's body odor off of the T-shirt like a cat working on a bag of catnip. He really didn't want to explain that Draco convinced him to steal the T-shirt for him.
Their weekly massaging sessions by necessity caused Draco and Harry to cease being rancorously hateful to each other in public. Of course, that didn't stop Draco from being detestable on principle or Harry from wanting to brain him with his cauldron in Potions. People noticed this détente between Potter and Malfoy and the reactions ranged from disappointed to relieved. Draco's habits also changed radically. He began to isolate himself, disappearing into the library or going alone to areas of the castle that held little interest to the rest of the students. His self-imposed exile created a vacuum in the Slytherin power structure, but it was quickly filled without too much fuss. Some speculation abounded, but if Draco wanted to be a recluse it was his decision. For his part, he had more important things to brood about than being in a social limbo. Such as how Ron's long limbs held the promise of lovely strength and endurance in certain intimate situations. Alone in a secluded section of the library, he would sit and gently run his fingers through pages of the finest vellum, soft and supple, like skin. The whisper of pages being turned echoed the way clothes rustle as they drop off their owner's body. He would remember the ragged sound Ron's angry, impassioned voice took on. Once, his fist had bloodied Ron's nose. Before that moment, when adrenalin and malice overcame breeding and he forsook his wand, he remembered long fingers clenching tight, narrowed and furious lapis lazuli eyes, like illuminated pages, and lips curled into a fighting grimace. Ron had leapt forward with a yell and they grappled. Draco couldn't remember if it was in the Quidditch stands or the hallways. Madam Pince frowned at his restive moan.
"Partner up. Mr. Weasley, you will be with Malfoy today. Let's see if Potter can actually make a potion without you."
Draco was beginning to suspect that Snape was plotting against him. It certainly wasn't a favor to have Weasley standing next to him. Draco watched as Ron scowled at Snape's turned back before moving his cauldron next to his.
"I won't let you make me do all the work," he whispered.
Draco's lips tightened. Merlin, he sounds positively erotic whispering!
"I should think not. You weren't paying any attention," he snapped.
Draco was chopping up lizard tails in an exceptionally violent manner. Ron edged away slightly and began grinding up his beetle eyes. Draco was beginning to worry. At this rate, he could grind his teeth away from tension! He dumped the lizard tails into the boiling water of his cauldron and sighed as the stink covered up some of the more obvious smells coming from Ron. He dumped the rest of the lizard tails into Ron's cauldron. Ron looked at Draco incredulously.
"Why did you do that?"
"It is the first ingredient, Weasley."
"Why'd you give them to me?"
Draco took a deep breath.
"Because, Weasley, how would it reflect on me, if you fail as my potions partner?"
Ron frowned.
"Oh, is that it?"
"Just add the Jobbernoll feathers already, Weasley."
When they were done, Snape could find no fault in their potions.
"Well, how unprecedented. I did not expect Mr. Weasley to leech off so much from you, Mr. Malfoy."
"He did not leech from me, Sir."
Ron looked again in disbelief at Draco. Snape raised a single eyebrow.
"Really?"
Draco shrugged.
"It is more efficient if we really worked at the potion, Sir."
Snape snorted and grudgingly nodded before moving on to the next cauldron.
"Twenty points to Slytherin."
Harry had noticed their interaction, with some amusement.
TBC