Cassie x
The Perks of Injuries
"Damn, it itches!" Ron growled as he scratched his temporary wrist cast. The heat outside wasn't helping either. Professor Trelawney decided it would be the perfect environment for the next pointless lesson, so Ron was stuck out in the hot sun for at least another half an hour.
"Oh shut up," the embittered best friend replied. Harry was most upset at Ron's injury since this meant he couldn't play the next match against Ravenclaw tomorrow.
A snicker came from behind the two and a porcelain hand gripped Ron's shoulder. "Yeah really Weasley…how did you manage to screw up your wrist that even Pomfrey couldn't mend?" Draco asked amazed and highly amused.
"It was when I was practicing Quidditch, for your information, but Pomfrey said she'll need a couple days to get the potion reordered," Ron replied, not caring enough to be spiteful. His whole arm itched madly and the heat exhausted him.
Draco nodded and glanced for a bit at the cast before back into Ron's blue eyes, dropping his hand from his shoulder. "Right, 'Quidditch'. Was it a 'solo flight' when you were practicing?" Draco insinuated, smirking.
"Oh shove off," Harry snorted, "I was there with him."
This bemused Draco further, "Oh, I get it! You two must have been up to some really wild tricks then. Enlighten me, who was on top?"
Harry laughed indignantly, "Malfoy, I bet you would just love to see the two of us involved in certain actions that do not pertain to Quidditch, but it's not going to happen."
"Believe me, I don't want to see you, Potter. Weasley though…" Draco stopped and smiled as the redhead turned around.
Ron obviously lost interest and stopped paying attention earlier, but he most certainly picked up on the last bit. "Come again?" he more stated than asked.
Draco smiled at the connotation, "Precisely what I was talking about Weasley…I…"
"Mr. Malfoy," the authoritative voice behind the bug-eyed glasses spoke, interrupting their dialogue.
Ron shrugged off the insinuation and tried to pay attention again. Draco was always joking about sexuality and when he acted in his 'camp mode' it secretly amused Ron. It was their last year and even though there was still some animosity and rivalry, him and Draco, even Harry and Draco as well, could have a laugh every once in a while.
The poking game was underway most of the period since it was so hot and Harry could barely stay awake. Usually they had to result to pinching one another since the two were always near comatose during Divination class. Today though, Ron couldn't concentrate on anything but his cast.
Tired of keeping Harry awake, he poked the Gryffindor hard in the side. "Try drawing out some plays for the game to stay awake and I'll help," Ron suggested as he near attacked his cast.
"Didn't your poor mother ever tell you not to scratch or it'll spread?" Draco commented, pleased at Ron's weakness.
Ron sighed, still scratching. "A broken wrist won't spread, dumbass," Ron retorted, "I need something to stick down there," he said looking around.
"Don't even think about using your wand…you never know what your hand will look like when that thing comes off," Draco warned laughing.
Ron mentally dismissed the idea and picked up a nearby stick. His expression turned from one of agony to bliss as the itching somewhat ceased.
"If that's what you look like after a mind-blowing fuck as well, I can't wait to get you into bed," Draco teased.
The redhead opened his eyes quickly to smirk, "Like you have a chance Malfoy?" he snorted.
Draco caught sight of Harry, who was turned away, writing furiously, and leaned to Ron, "You think I was joking, Weasel?" Draco raised his eyebrows.
Ron felt a sweat break out, whether it was from the heat, Draco's tone, or his words, he wasn't sure. He just laughed off Draco's comment and pushed him back.
"That must be the heat talking…if we have one more class out here I think I'll die," Ron exclaimed dramatically.
Harry lifted his head from its position, three inches from the paper, and showed Ron a play he thought up. Ron nodded approvingly and repeated, "I can't wait to get out of this heat," to him.
"Well, it's not like it's any better inside," Harry replied.
Ron more stated than said, "What?"
"Yeah, around eight the temperature regulation spell broke in the Gryffindor Tower, library, and Great Hall," Harry informed Ron, who sighed heavily.
"Oh yeah, I was in Pomfrey's wing all morning. How long until they fix it?" he asked exasperatingly.
Harry responded, "They already placed the spell back on, but it'll take a few more hours until everything evens out, they told us."
"Ugh," Ron grunted. "It's gonna be hell this afternoon."
"This is why I'm glad to be down in the dungeons; it's always freezing during the warm months," Draco chimed in with a smile.
"Yeah, lucky you," Ron replied caustically.
"Weasley, you can come down to the dungeons until the climate is all right…oh you too, Potter," Draco suggested, trying to be casual.
Harry complied, "I really do need to study so I think I'll take you up on your offer."
Ron looked at Draco accusingly but couldn't be bothered to make any suppositions, "Okay, I need help on that Potions lab anyways."
Draco smiled, "Weasley requesting help from a Slytherin? Is that all you're intending on using me for?" he inquired.
"That lab was incredibly confusing. Anyways, who asked for help on the Transfiguration final last year?" Ron reminded the blonde, who rolled his eyes.
"Fine, meet me in front of the dungeons after this period…it should be ending soon, gods I hope. Speaking of Transfiguration…I have to see McGonagall so I might be a tad late…" Draco remembered suddenly.
"Alright, whatever," Ron shrugged.
Harry mimicked Ron, "Sounds good, you Slytherins…"
"Class is dismissed…" Professor Trelawney interrupted. Harry didn't bother finishing his sentence, as did Draco and Ron not bother to listen, as they were half way up the field by the end of her speech.
"Okay, where the hell is he?" Ron looked at the time. Twenty minutes late.
"Maybe he was just taking the mickey when he offered to take us in," Harry suggested sighing.
"Nah," Ron replied, "He wouldn't…I mean he would…but…oh finally Malfoy!" Ron spotted the blonde taking his time with the usual swagger down the stairs.
Said blonde was looking different then earlier, now in jeans rather than the typical slacks. Ron noticed this because the jeans were a light blue, rather low riding, and tight. His shirt was the same but the tie was slackened and the first 2 buttons were undone.
Ron already took this advantage as soon as he entered the castle; he wasn't sure where he threw his tie off, come to think of it. Difference was, the space open in Draco's shirt showed a brief patch of the alabaster, near translucent, skin. His hair was also gelled another way, more spiky than normal and he let his fringe hang in front of his face.
"You certainly took your time," Harry noted, agitated, his nose already stuck in a text for History of Magic class.
"My apologies, Boy Who is Way Too Impatient, shall I open the door now for you my lord?" Draco asked, bowing.
"Please do, I really need some cold air," Harry whined. The Slytherin rolled his eyes in contest then said the password to allow them in. The gust of cold air blew over their overheated bodies and all three inhaled deeply and sighed.
"Where is your common room?" Harry quickly requested. Draco pointed to the left and the brunette immediately followed, books in tow.
"Shall we go in there as well?" Ron posed.
Draco shook his head, "Too many people in there…they all love to gossip and I know I won't be able to get any work done. Why don't we go to my room? Prefect rooms do have their privileges," he suggested.
"Yes, they definitely do," Ron agreed. "Lots of quiet…let's go. Show me the way."
The blonde smiled and showed him to his room. The green and silver lined chamber was nearly double the size of his own and Ron was in awe. Especially the silver, it reflected against the bright sun outside, illuminating everything without use of a light, even in the dungeons.
The Slytherin's bed with its shiny, silver sheets attracted Ron who was well beyond exhausted from the sun and heat. If Draco has to leave, maybe he could nap a bit under those silk looking sheets in the cold room were the Gryffindor's thoughts.
The rest of the room was relatively messy, which came as a surprise to Ron, who imagined the "perfect Malfoy heir" to be spotless. He had to admit though that his room was a lot worse.
"You like, Weasley? You've been analyzing it in your mind long enough," the Slytherin interrupted his thoughts.
Ron looked back at Draco, "Oh yeah, it's nice," he responded indifferently. "Where should we start?"
"On the bed?" Draco suggested, his eyes ever so slightly widening immediately at his answer.
"I mean with the lab," Ron corrected, "but the bed does look real comfy."
"It's where I always study," Draco covered up. He walked over and sat at the end. "Well, what questions do you have?"
Ron took off his robe, grabbed his lab, and followed Draco. He sat in the middle of the bed and started thumbing through the papers. Draco, in the meantime, shed his robe as well and relaxed back on the bed, his elbows supporting him as he fixated his line of sight on the ceiling.
"Well," Ron frowned, "mainly it's this one root we need. Harry and I have been looking everywhere for it…"
"The southern sage? I have loads extra. I can give you some of mine," he shrugged, still staring at the ceiling.
"Oh," Ron said surprised. "…Uh…thanks Malfoy. I was reading the rest and it looks like it's supposed to react pretty violently," he commented.
"Yeah. Only if you cut it wrong. I cut it diagonally and nothing bad happens," the Slytherin responded.
Ron nodded, staring at the blonde, "Oh, okay." The silver and green tie dangling off the side of his chest was slightly lifting off the bed and back down with each breath he took. Ron was a bit suspicious of the persistent respectful attitude Draco has shown the past couple of weeks; "maybe he could actually start to like this boy," he voiced in his thoughts. "Damn, I don't want to admit this, but you're really bright with this Potions shit," the Gryffindor conceded.
Draco looked at Ron and shrugged. "I know," he stated plainly and smiled. "Now…this business of repayment…"
"What? Oh, naturally you wanted something out of this…no wonder you were being so…pleasant," the redhead figured, not with animosity but sorrowful understanding.
"Of course 'naturally'. But what, you don't think I can be nice ever?" Draco suggested innocently.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course not; you're a Slytherin!" he smirked, "What is it you want Malfoy?"
"Oh nothing," the blonde responded haphazardly.
Ron gazed at the Slytherin with scrutiny but then shrugged and looked around for a quill. Draco's eyes stared back at Ron and then onto his cast. "Does it hurt? Has the itching stopped?" he asked conversationally.
The redhead glanced down on said injury. "Pomfrey took the pain away and the itching subsided with the cold, thank the gods," Ron replied, obviously relieved.
"Yeah, the cold does feel good," Draco commented.
Ron mumbled an agreement and gave up his search for a quill, he couldn't pay full attention to his search with the blonde still staring at him. "I'll finish it later," he decided and climbed back to the bed. Draco sat up on the bed and watched Ron lay down. "These sheets feel nice, stupid rich boy…" Ron remarked, smirking.
The Slytherin didn't respond but cut off any other observation, "You're gonna have problems the next couple of days," he stated.
Ron looked up to him with an expression of confusion, "I'll get Hermoine to write whatever I need, what are friends for anyways?" he joked. "…And I'll use my cast as an excuse for anything else," he smiled.
Draco's eyes fell to his wrist and stayed fixed there. "No, I mean for other things…you won't be able to wank, for example," he said matter-of-factly.
"Oh," Ron realized and slightly shifted at the remark. "True…I guess I'll just have to deal for two days," he weakly smiled; uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.
"You don't have to just 'deal with it'," Draco suggested inching closer to the cowering redhead.
Ron laughed off the remark nervously; he still could not configure the Slytherin and what was the point where he would laugh it off as well. He felt the sweat break out once again and decided that it was definitely not the climate's liability. Ron decided to go along with it, "That would be one more instance I'd be indebted to you."
Draco's silver-blue glacier eyes slowly dragged up from the Gryffindor's wrist to his own blue eyes. "No," he responded. "Think of it as a repayment for me." The black creeping into the blonde's pupils told Ron that he wasn't joking anymore.
Ron didn't say anything for at least a minute, or what it seemed like to Draco, as he spent the time just staring back. Slowly he noticed the black infiltrating the blue eyes as well and Draco smirked, pushing the redhead back and climbing on top of the lithe frame.
Gently pushing the injured arm away, the blonde's nimble hands proceeded to make their way under Ron's shirt. The thin, soft lips lowered to Ron's as he took the mouth below him in a soft kiss. Ron was still staring at Draco, unsure whether this was all happening. When he snapped out of his reverie, Ron closed his eyes and began responding, driving his tongue into Draco's mouth.
Taking the hint, as well as the one of a bump against his hip, Draco removed his hands from under Ron's shirt and moved them down to his slacks as his mouth moved down to his neck. Slightly sucking and licking a spot that made Ron moan ever so quietly, Draco did not remove his lips from the location until he was assured it would leave a mark.
By this time, Ron's pants had been unbuttoned and lowered to below his knees. The blonde's skinny fingers skated around from the knees and up the Gryffindor's thighs, encircling his hardness before Draco finally took it in his hands and started pumping. Taking it steady and slow, the Slytherin reveled in the pulsating organ in his hands until Ron became so under the influence of passion that he moaned, groaned, and demanded that he go faster.
Complying, Draco brought the Gryffindor to climax; all the while marks of his own were imprinted all across Ron's collarbone. In the explosion, Ron hit his arm against Draco's supporting elbow and a yelp escaped, mixing the experience of pleasure with a twinge of pain. Draco winced and mumbled an apology, climbing off Ron immediately to find his wand.
The redhead shifted to his side and watched Draco bend down to reach his wand, obviously hard. A small smile surfaced, "It's okay, not your fault. You helped me out enough," Ron agreed.
The blonde shrugged, holding back a smile and recited the cleaning spell on himself, then Ron.
"You know, I could help you out and settle this 'who owes who' shit," Ron suggested lazily, trying to sound somewhat seductive in the aftermath of a tiring orgasm; still lying with his trousers down.
Draco looked up from his wand box and froze. "Actually, I have to meet someone. Feel free to stay here if you want, just don't take anything. I'll be back in an hour or so," the blonde quickly replied as he grabbed his robe and exited the bedroom.
Ron, thoroughly perplexed, pulled his slacks up but didn't bother buttoning them. He kicked off his shoes and tried to relax in the large bed until the Slytherin came back; but he was kept awake by this thoughts and the itch that started up again.