Again I want to thank everyone who is reading and enjoying...I adore feedback
*shameless hint*.
"Sparkling Pippin" believe me hon I have no intention of finishing this fic
anytime soon, I'm having way too much fun with it. LOL Thank you again
*blush* for the compliments.
Chapter Twelve
Ron woke up with a start, stale breath rasped out of his abused throat. He'd spent the entire night plagued by nightmares that still clung to him feverishly. Even now as he watched the first trickle of sunlight filter into the room, he remembered but a portion of them. The phantom of a dream left him with mere fragments of the whole. He recalled being tied securely to a bed with vines that snaked around his arms and legs. A curtain of fine white strands fell over his face and prevented him from catching a glimpse of where he was. Voices, calling, beckoning him from all sides, Harry's had been one of the loudest, but what he'd been urgently shouting was now lost in his subconscious. What he remembered above everything else was the soft warm breath that, throughout it all, ceaselessly ghosted across his throat. Even now he could summon each intricate layer of that mesmerizing caress and that scared him most of all.
Ron tried to wish it away, to block it out, but he instinctively knew it had been Draco's icy-white hair that had blinded him in the dream and his breath that whispered seductively across nerve endings, distracting him from the truth. It was the blonde bastard that saturated his thoughts and poisoned his ability to think straight. Maybe he was just immensely skeptical when it came to anything Malfoy related, but there had to be a reason for these changes in Draco and he couldn't help believe that it was some sly trick to ensnare them all.
Ron eased the curtains back from around his bed, peering through the murky light to that of his best friend's bed. Harry had woken him up last night, just as he'd begun to doze off waiting for his friend to make a move. He had apologized for being an idiot and didn't want to lose Ron's friendship over a petty jealousy. Ron had told him that there was no possible likelihood in hell that he would ever hook up with Malfoy and that Harry was a 'nutter' to think so in the first place. They had grinned at each other, Ron punching his best friend playfully on the arm. Harry had attempted to play along before feigning a yawn and crawling into his own bed.
Harry slept soundly, mostly because of the lingering effects of the potion. His arms were flung above his head. One leg dangled over the edge and Ron presumed the other was draped just as carelessly over the other side of the bed. He never understood how Harry in the dead of winter could bare to have his naked skin exposed to the chilly air that permeated the castle. Ron couldn't fathom even the thought of having a pinky toe out of his deliciously warm blanket.
Winter had never sat well with him, besides the promise of Christmas holidays at home, what else did it offer? Ron was more than happy to see the season end and the beginnings of new life take hold in the grounds around the school. For now he'd endure and hopefully dream of frolicking in meadows, not encased in blinding white, chilled by snow and ice. Again, those things reminded him of only one person and he wanted to be free of such thoughts.
He was happy. More than that, he was ecstatic that Harry was okay and that the potion had been a marvelous success. It still astounded him, Harry's ability to heal so incredibly fast. Maybe it was a repercussion of the spell his mother had cast, the one that saved him as a baby from 'he who shall not be named'. Ron never spoke to his friend about such things. He knew if his parents had died under similar circumstances, he probably wouldn't want to discuss it either.
Harry stirred in his sleep, turning over so that his naked behind was displayed in all its dimpled glory. Ron stifled the first bubble of laughter, causing him to cough violently to keep himself under control. Trust Harry to be the one to bring him out of the doldrums.
Ron knew then and there that his best friend was most definitely awake and Harry confirmed it no more then ten seconds later with a series of hilarious... wriggling, exaggerated stretching and flexing of his seeker toned arse... in what Ron guessed was a hopeful attempt to tantalize him.
He snorted loudly, rolling onto his side, scrambling to get the blanket over his head and stuffing the corner into his mouth to stop giggling. Harry just wasn't playing fair! He was supposed to be resigned to the fact that he could never have him, not making it worse.
Harry flipped over to throw his red-headed friend a wounded look for laughing at his expense. Ron rolled his eyes at the inflated pout. Harry ducked his head slightly; a guilty look stole over his face.
"Hey, I lightened your thunderous mood at least?" he whispered. Ron nodded vigorously in response, holding his thumb and forefinger up to his face, squinting. "A tad," he whispered in return. Harry grinned, arching an eyebrow. "Well, that's a start."
Seamus took this moment to yawn, rolling over in his sleep to blink drowsily at the two. He grinned sleepily as if even in his groggy state he had been watching the entire exchange.
"Hey! You two aren't still living in denial are you?" he drawled, his eyes drifting closed even before he had finished speaking.
Ron ignored the comment; he stretched, unwittingly letting his t-shirt ride up his abdomen, revealing an impressive array of tight stomach muscles. A banquet of the creamiest, most edible skin two horny Gryffindor's had ever had the privilege of gazing upon, lay before them.
Harry gulped, catching Seamus' eye. Oh, he was very much awake now. They both grinned wolfishly before succumbing to fits of manly giggles.
When Ron finally realized the motive for their acute glee, his whole face suffused with colour and he instantly pulled the blanket up till it was tucked firmly under his chin.
Seamus literally had tears in his eyes from laughing so much and was rubbing at his aching cheeks, while Harry was grinning madly at Ron's sudden prudishness and yet desperately shaking because he badly needed to pee at the same time.
Not being able to stand it a moment longer, he whipped back the covers and sped to the toilets. Ron spluttered noisily at Harry's sudden dash to the lavatory, while Seamus just stared at the empty space in Harry's bed and considered crawling under those warm covers and wallowing in his heat while he was busy elsewhere.
Ron took this chance to get out of bed himself and dress quickly. He was starving considering he hadn't eaten properly since the day of the party. Oh, he'd snacked on whatever he could charm out of fellow Gryffindor's, but what he craved for about now was a full Hogwarts breakfast, bacon, eggs, sausage and mountains of deliciously hot-buttered toast. His stomach positively growled at such a feast. He swore he could hear the bacon sizzling, smell the fatty richness, taste each mouth-watering morsel on his tongue...
Ron panted, almost drooling at the image. Oh Merlin, he had to leave now it was all too bloody much. He'd devour his left sneaker he was so damn hungry. Struggling into mismatched socks he glanced around the floor searching for his shoes. He really needed to learn to organise, the whereabouts of the majority of his belongings was a total mystery and he was getting very tired of the game of 'hide and seek' he went through every morning.
"I'm going down to breakfast, tell Harry I'll meet him there?" he blurted out in Seamus' direction, one shoe on his foot, the laces straggling along the floor. The other he was struggling to get over his heel while hopping to the door. He was hindered by the bunched up sock that was refusing to move no matter how much he pleaded with it. Gripping onto the doorknob for support, he yanked hard, tearing a hole in the process. He swore loudly but at least the shoe now slipped in place. As he slammed the door behind him, he imagined the look of disappointment on his mothers face at yet another pair of his socks that would need darning.
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Ron quickly settled into his usual spot at the Gryffindor table, not a soul was there as a plate of steaming eggs, bacon and toast appeared before him. Sausages were apparently in short supply because of an unfortunate accident in the kitchen but Ron wasn't about to quibble. This was exquisite and for half a second he just stared, tears in his eyes, mouth gaping at the sheer artistry of the tower of sizzling food before him.
Of course, by the end he was practically inhaling it off his plate.
The hall started filling with students as Ron started in on his third helping. Harry plopped down beside him and he merely nodded a greeting through mouthful of fried egg, before carefully stacking his next forkful.
Harry frowned, shaking his head. "How many so far?" he inquired.
Ron grinned through his mouthful and held up three fingers towards Harry.
Harry pursed his lips, both eyebrows raised and nodding his head slowly. "Really? I would have expected more from you by now."
Ron narrowed his eyes at his friend as he chewed.
Harry laughed, shrugging his shoulders before pinching half a slice of toast off the redhead's plate while he was distracted.
Ron pouted at the pure sneakiness of his friend, attempting to snatch it back.
"Got to be quicker mate. Seeker reflexes you know." Harry grinned, waving the toast in front of him teasingly.
"Seeker reflexes my arse, you used dirty tactics..." he trailed off as Harry's eyes fell to the vicinity of his arse. Gulping down a particularly large portion of toast, Ron swiftly reached for the juice and tried not to slop it all over the table as he felt his best friends eyes still glued to his derriere.
Harry waited till Ron was looking at him before biting sharply into the piece of toast, severing it in half neatly. He chewed deliberately while he pinned Ron with his gaze, satisfied he had got his point across as the glass shook in Ron's hand.
Ron hastily took a sip, concentrating on not choking as he swallowed. A single drop dribbled over his chin and he froze as Harry's eyes faithfully tracked its course down his friend's throat only for it to slip disappointingly under those robes.
Harry's eyes darted to his and he grinned innocently at him before turning to talk to Neville who had just sat down.
Ron had just about recovered from Harry's eye-fucking when Marcus chose to seat himself directly opposite the redhead. He immediately bristled at the audacity of the boy.
Marcus fluttered his eyelashes playfully at the object of his affection. Ron ducked his head and wolfed down the remainder of his breakfast. He finished his last mouthful, neatly placing his fork and knife together on his empty plate. Ron made to get up, but found himself trapped by two large feet clamped on either side of his hips.
Slowly Ron lifted his head to gaze coolly at Marcus. The first thing that came into view was those provocative lips that curled knowingly at the corners of that mouth. Then there were those eyes that scorched him as they slid over his body, a mirror of what was being done by those toes that massaged his outer thigh with a vengeance.
Ron was struck dumb by Marcus' blatant seduction. It took one foot sliding over his inner thigh and pressing intimately into his groin to bring him to his senses. Ron squeaked at the feel of agile toes stroking his cock through layers of material.
"Fuck." Ron muttered.
"I have every intention of..."
Ron threw Marcus a dangerous look that told the beater he better not complete that sentence.
Marcus grinned, flashing his teeth predatorily at Ron. "...doing just that." He concluded, his tongue darting out to lick his top lip suggestively.
Ron shivered at the image that evoked in his mind. It wasn't entirely disgusting, yet still disturbing enough for him to break the contact immediately.
His sudden movement brought Harry's attention back to him and his friend instantly assessed what was going on.
Harry slid closer to Ron and forcefully removed those feet from his friend's crotch, Marcus' knee banging onto the underside of the table with the strength of Potter's removal, upsetting several dishes in their wake. Harry leaned across Ron's lap and garnered Marcus' full attention by growling threateningly under his breath.
Ron speculated that Harry might have more in common with Remus Lupin then he first thought, not that he wasn't thrilled that Harry was trying to protect him, as a loyal friend should. But still, the longer the 'pissing match' continued between the two, the less it felt like 'defending' and the more he felt like Harry was marking his territory, that Ron was his and no one messed with his property, nobody.
Ron blushed to the tips of his ears; his eyes flitting away from his two would be suitors to his audience at large. Oh Merlin, he was most definitely the focus of the entire hall.
Marcus and Harry lunged at each other and began to snarl, slobber and tear each other to pieces. Ron very calmly got out his chair, noticing that the Slytherin's were snickering evilly at their table, Malfoy noticeably absent from his absolute humiliation. There was at least an upside to this nightmare. He turned and as inconspicuously as possible left the hall, various teachers pushing past him to get to the two boys rolling around on the floor.
Hermione called out to Ron as he heaved the main door closed behind him. She had entered the hall only a moment ago for breakfast and had just caught the tail end of Harry's and Marcus' brawl before Professors seized them apart.
"Well, I guess he'll find out soon enough." She huffed.
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Chapter Twelve
Ron woke up with a start, stale breath rasped out of his abused throat. He'd spent the entire night plagued by nightmares that still clung to him feverishly. Even now as he watched the first trickle of sunlight filter into the room, he remembered but a portion of them. The phantom of a dream left him with mere fragments of the whole. He recalled being tied securely to a bed with vines that snaked around his arms and legs. A curtain of fine white strands fell over his face and prevented him from catching a glimpse of where he was. Voices, calling, beckoning him from all sides, Harry's had been one of the loudest, but what he'd been urgently shouting was now lost in his subconscious. What he remembered above everything else was the soft warm breath that, throughout it all, ceaselessly ghosted across his throat. Even now he could summon each intricate layer of that mesmerizing caress and that scared him most of all.
Ron tried to wish it away, to block it out, but he instinctively knew it had been Draco's icy-white hair that had blinded him in the dream and his breath that whispered seductively across nerve endings, distracting him from the truth. It was the blonde bastard that saturated his thoughts and poisoned his ability to think straight. Maybe he was just immensely skeptical when it came to anything Malfoy related, but there had to be a reason for these changes in Draco and he couldn't help believe that it was some sly trick to ensnare them all.
Ron eased the curtains back from around his bed, peering through the murky light to that of his best friend's bed. Harry had woken him up last night, just as he'd begun to doze off waiting for his friend to make a move. He had apologized for being an idiot and didn't want to lose Ron's friendship over a petty jealousy. Ron had told him that there was no possible likelihood in hell that he would ever hook up with Malfoy and that Harry was a 'nutter' to think so in the first place. They had grinned at each other, Ron punching his best friend playfully on the arm. Harry had attempted to play along before feigning a yawn and crawling into his own bed.
Harry slept soundly, mostly because of the lingering effects of the potion. His arms were flung above his head. One leg dangled over the edge and Ron presumed the other was draped just as carelessly over the other side of the bed. He never understood how Harry in the dead of winter could bare to have his naked skin exposed to the chilly air that permeated the castle. Ron couldn't fathom even the thought of having a pinky toe out of his deliciously warm blanket.
Winter had never sat well with him, besides the promise of Christmas holidays at home, what else did it offer? Ron was more than happy to see the season end and the beginnings of new life take hold in the grounds around the school. For now he'd endure and hopefully dream of frolicking in meadows, not encased in blinding white, chilled by snow and ice. Again, those things reminded him of only one person and he wanted to be free of such thoughts.
He was happy. More than that, he was ecstatic that Harry was okay and that the potion had been a marvelous success. It still astounded him, Harry's ability to heal so incredibly fast. Maybe it was a repercussion of the spell his mother had cast, the one that saved him as a baby from 'he who shall not be named'. Ron never spoke to his friend about such things. He knew if his parents had died under similar circumstances, he probably wouldn't want to discuss it either.
Harry stirred in his sleep, turning over so that his naked behind was displayed in all its dimpled glory. Ron stifled the first bubble of laughter, causing him to cough violently to keep himself under control. Trust Harry to be the one to bring him out of the doldrums.
Ron knew then and there that his best friend was most definitely awake and Harry confirmed it no more then ten seconds later with a series of hilarious... wriggling, exaggerated stretching and flexing of his seeker toned arse... in what Ron guessed was a hopeful attempt to tantalize him.
He snorted loudly, rolling onto his side, scrambling to get the blanket over his head and stuffing the corner into his mouth to stop giggling. Harry just wasn't playing fair! He was supposed to be resigned to the fact that he could never have him, not making it worse.
Harry flipped over to throw his red-headed friend a wounded look for laughing at his expense. Ron rolled his eyes at the inflated pout. Harry ducked his head slightly; a guilty look stole over his face.
"Hey, I lightened your thunderous mood at least?" he whispered. Ron nodded vigorously in response, holding his thumb and forefinger up to his face, squinting. "A tad," he whispered in return. Harry grinned, arching an eyebrow. "Well, that's a start."
Seamus took this moment to yawn, rolling over in his sleep to blink drowsily at the two. He grinned sleepily as if even in his groggy state he had been watching the entire exchange.
"Hey! You two aren't still living in denial are you?" he drawled, his eyes drifting closed even before he had finished speaking.
Ron ignored the comment; he stretched, unwittingly letting his t-shirt ride up his abdomen, revealing an impressive array of tight stomach muscles. A banquet of the creamiest, most edible skin two horny Gryffindor's had ever had the privilege of gazing upon, lay before them.
Harry gulped, catching Seamus' eye. Oh, he was very much awake now. They both grinned wolfishly before succumbing to fits of manly giggles.
When Ron finally realized the motive for their acute glee, his whole face suffused with colour and he instantly pulled the blanket up till it was tucked firmly under his chin.
Seamus literally had tears in his eyes from laughing so much and was rubbing at his aching cheeks, while Harry was grinning madly at Ron's sudden prudishness and yet desperately shaking because he badly needed to pee at the same time.
Not being able to stand it a moment longer, he whipped back the covers and sped to the toilets. Ron spluttered noisily at Harry's sudden dash to the lavatory, while Seamus just stared at the empty space in Harry's bed and considered crawling under those warm covers and wallowing in his heat while he was busy elsewhere.
Ron took this chance to get out of bed himself and dress quickly. He was starving considering he hadn't eaten properly since the day of the party. Oh, he'd snacked on whatever he could charm out of fellow Gryffindor's, but what he craved for about now was a full Hogwarts breakfast, bacon, eggs, sausage and mountains of deliciously hot-buttered toast. His stomach positively growled at such a feast. He swore he could hear the bacon sizzling, smell the fatty richness, taste each mouth-watering morsel on his tongue...
Ron panted, almost drooling at the image. Oh Merlin, he had to leave now it was all too bloody much. He'd devour his left sneaker he was so damn hungry. Struggling into mismatched socks he glanced around the floor searching for his shoes. He really needed to learn to organise, the whereabouts of the majority of his belongings was a total mystery and he was getting very tired of the game of 'hide and seek' he went through every morning.
"I'm going down to breakfast, tell Harry I'll meet him there?" he blurted out in Seamus' direction, one shoe on his foot, the laces straggling along the floor. The other he was struggling to get over his heel while hopping to the door. He was hindered by the bunched up sock that was refusing to move no matter how much he pleaded with it. Gripping onto the doorknob for support, he yanked hard, tearing a hole in the process. He swore loudly but at least the shoe now slipped in place. As he slammed the door behind him, he imagined the look of disappointment on his mothers face at yet another pair of his socks that would need darning.
............................................................................ ..............................................................
Ron quickly settled into his usual spot at the Gryffindor table, not a soul was there as a plate of steaming eggs, bacon and toast appeared before him. Sausages were apparently in short supply because of an unfortunate accident in the kitchen but Ron wasn't about to quibble. This was exquisite and for half a second he just stared, tears in his eyes, mouth gaping at the sheer artistry of the tower of sizzling food before him.
Of course, by the end he was practically inhaling it off his plate.
The hall started filling with students as Ron started in on his third helping. Harry plopped down beside him and he merely nodded a greeting through mouthful of fried egg, before carefully stacking his next forkful.
Harry frowned, shaking his head. "How many so far?" he inquired.
Ron grinned through his mouthful and held up three fingers towards Harry.
Harry pursed his lips, both eyebrows raised and nodding his head slowly. "Really? I would have expected more from you by now."
Ron narrowed his eyes at his friend as he chewed.
Harry laughed, shrugging his shoulders before pinching half a slice of toast off the redhead's plate while he was distracted.
Ron pouted at the pure sneakiness of his friend, attempting to snatch it back.
"Got to be quicker mate. Seeker reflexes you know." Harry grinned, waving the toast in front of him teasingly.
"Seeker reflexes my arse, you used dirty tactics..." he trailed off as Harry's eyes fell to the vicinity of his arse. Gulping down a particularly large portion of toast, Ron swiftly reached for the juice and tried not to slop it all over the table as he felt his best friends eyes still glued to his derriere.
Harry waited till Ron was looking at him before biting sharply into the piece of toast, severing it in half neatly. He chewed deliberately while he pinned Ron with his gaze, satisfied he had got his point across as the glass shook in Ron's hand.
Ron hastily took a sip, concentrating on not choking as he swallowed. A single drop dribbled over his chin and he froze as Harry's eyes faithfully tracked its course down his friend's throat only for it to slip disappointingly under those robes.
Harry's eyes darted to his and he grinned innocently at him before turning to talk to Neville who had just sat down.
Ron had just about recovered from Harry's eye-fucking when Marcus chose to seat himself directly opposite the redhead. He immediately bristled at the audacity of the boy.
Marcus fluttered his eyelashes playfully at the object of his affection. Ron ducked his head and wolfed down the remainder of his breakfast. He finished his last mouthful, neatly placing his fork and knife together on his empty plate. Ron made to get up, but found himself trapped by two large feet clamped on either side of his hips.
Slowly Ron lifted his head to gaze coolly at Marcus. The first thing that came into view was those provocative lips that curled knowingly at the corners of that mouth. Then there were those eyes that scorched him as they slid over his body, a mirror of what was being done by those toes that massaged his outer thigh with a vengeance.
Ron was struck dumb by Marcus' blatant seduction. It took one foot sliding over his inner thigh and pressing intimately into his groin to bring him to his senses. Ron squeaked at the feel of agile toes stroking his cock through layers of material.
"Fuck." Ron muttered.
"I have every intention of..."
Ron threw Marcus a dangerous look that told the beater he better not complete that sentence.
Marcus grinned, flashing his teeth predatorily at Ron. "...doing just that." He concluded, his tongue darting out to lick his top lip suggestively.
Ron shivered at the image that evoked in his mind. It wasn't entirely disgusting, yet still disturbing enough for him to break the contact immediately.
His sudden movement brought Harry's attention back to him and his friend instantly assessed what was going on.
Harry slid closer to Ron and forcefully removed those feet from his friend's crotch, Marcus' knee banging onto the underside of the table with the strength of Potter's removal, upsetting several dishes in their wake. Harry leaned across Ron's lap and garnered Marcus' full attention by growling threateningly under his breath.
Ron speculated that Harry might have more in common with Remus Lupin then he first thought, not that he wasn't thrilled that Harry was trying to protect him, as a loyal friend should. But still, the longer the 'pissing match' continued between the two, the less it felt like 'defending' and the more he felt like Harry was marking his territory, that Ron was his and no one messed with his property, nobody.
Ron blushed to the tips of his ears; his eyes flitting away from his two would be suitors to his audience at large. Oh Merlin, he was most definitely the focus of the entire hall.
Marcus and Harry lunged at each other and began to snarl, slobber and tear each other to pieces. Ron very calmly got out his chair, noticing that the Slytherin's were snickering evilly at their table, Malfoy noticeably absent from his absolute humiliation. There was at least an upside to this nightmare. He turned and as inconspicuously as possible left the hall, various teachers pushing past him to get to the two boys rolling around on the floor.
Hermione called out to Ron as he heaved the main door closed behind him. She had entered the hall only a moment ago for breakfast and had just caught the tail end of Harry's and Marcus' brawl before Professors seized them apart.
"Well, I guess he'll find out soon enough." She huffed.
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