Notes: Great big apologies to anyone who's been following this story and wondered if I'd fallen into a vortex.I did take a bit off for HBP and summer just ate away at time. THis is also a bit of a collaboration with someone not really involved online, butplays D& D with my husband andinvents excellent plots thatnever getput into writing. She's the one that really pushed me into writing this, out of my comfy realms of R/Hr and Harry/Ron. I've always been afraid to write Draco for some reason, becuase I like to keep their charcaterizations recognizably canon before spinning them into these non-canon relationships. So enough of that babble. This chapter was initially much longer in outline. I've had to split it because I get so wordy.
And now,thank you very much for reading. I'm shockedthat I've averaged about 25 reviews off of no small feat for me. I've also been posting this on LJ, but at a higher rating. I'll include the link next timeif anyone happens to be of age and interested, though right now, there's not much difference exept a little extra beta work.
Chapter 5: Ron vs Cucumber-boy
Malfoy was an enigma of some sort, Ron concluded as he stumbled from the cottage fireplace later that evening. The man Ron had worked with this evening didn't quite fit into the previously developed mental slot of, "evil, incompetent, little toe-rag." This older version of Draco Malfoy seemed just as arrogant, just as self-assured as he claimed in his youth, but he'd finally gained the credentials to back himself up. It was quite disturbing.
Ron was so involved with investigating this newly acquired interpretation of Draco Malfoy that he barely blinked an eye at the sight of Steve seated stiffly on the one of the sitting room settees. He nodded at Harry's current beau distractedly and scanned the surroundings for any sign of his two best friends.
"They're in Harry's room, if you're wondering," Steve said. "Hermione and a bird with hair as red as yours are prepping him for a quick assignment before we leave for Asia." He seemed uncomfortable and slightly put-out. The image cheered Ron enough to distract him from his musings.
"Aw, is Hermione not letting you pack Harry's skivvies for your little adventure?" Ron taunted. He dropped his rucksack onto the cushion next to Steve and grinned inwardly at the man's sputtering.
"Pretty-boys in the Squad always seem to think they are above what's socially proper," Steve muttered. Ron shot him a dark look. He wasn't even remotely in the mood for Cucumber-boy's terse, little comments this evening, particularly after spending the last few hours with the King of Snark. He stripped off his dank training robes so that he wore only his trousers and, after unfastening his rucksack with much more force than necessary, scrunched the fabric into a ball and jammed it into his bag.
"You're not leaving that vile thing out here, are you?" Cucumber-boy asked as if he couldn't fathom such undignified behavior. Ron ignored him and made his way toward Harry's bedroom after he'd toed off his shoes and socks as well. He had more important things to deal with than a prig with a broom shoved up his arse even further than Percy.
During his entire trip home, Ron had imagined several conversations with Harry in his head, most along the lines of, 'What in the world were you thinking, pairing me up with that complete git!' As he reached Harry's bedroom door though, he faltered. Harry was his very best mate. He'd never go to Draco Malfoy for a favor unless he truly believed Ron could handle Malfoy's aggressive version of 'help'. And Hermione...she would have put her foot down in a moment if she thought Ron would get hurt.
Draco's words flashed in his mind, unbidden. They're likely to send you off to your death, twittering to themselves about how it made them so proud that you were finally worthy of their attention. Ron shook his head. What was he even doing dwelling on that, letting it bother him so much? Malfoy had no idea about what sort of relationship Ron had with his friends. Besides, there was no benefit to upsetting Harry with this whole thing right before a mission. Harry and Hermione had trusted Ron with their lives and well being in the past; they weren't going to be so careless with his.
With one deep breath to rid himself of any corrosive thoughts that Draco Malfoy might have encouraged to rust at his mind, Ron knocked twice and let himself into Harry's room.
"No, don't move, and don't lick at your lips!" Hermione appeared to be scolding Harry as Ron drew closer. Harry was seated at the foot of his bed, clad only in boxers and a pair of black pumps with a high heel. His legs had been shaved, and cosmetic paraphernalia were scattered about the duvet.
Ron froze in his tracks and quirked a curious eyebrow. "Harry, mate, something you need to tell me?" Harry glanced over at him sharply, eyes wide and shinning very green without the barrier of his spectacles. Hermione narrowed her eyes when his abrupt movement caused her to mark his cheek with the lip liner pencil still poised in her fingertips. Ron barely noticed this flub; he was too busy gawking at how innocent and how surprisingly alluring Harry seemed.
"Will you sit still?" Hermione snapped. Harry blinked finally and broke their gaze to look back at her, though Ron noticed he seemed to be fidgeting.
The door opened again behind Ron, and Ginny entered the room, arms ladened with dresses and robes and other sorts of feminine clothing.
"There's not much choice here, especially if we have to work with those shoes. Neither one of us are the same size as you – hi Ron – but I think these might work." She dumped the clothing onto the pillows near the headboard and took over for Hermione, whom had given up Harry for a lost cause.
"Thanks, Ginny," Hermione said as she turned her attention to the clothing. "I don't even know how to match his coloring, not that he sits still long enough for me to finish!"
"Harry knows what I'd do to certain parts of his anatomy if he won't behave for me, right Harry?" Ginny grinned and then tilted her head toward Ron. "What are you doing back so late?"
"Oh yes," Hermione added, her voice oddly tentative, "how did that go? Well, I hope?"
Ron knew he'd been unnaturally quiet during all this fussing. He just couldn't stop staring at Harry's smooth, pale legs and he certainly didn't want to meet Harry's beguiling eyes again. He had a funny feeling like once before, a knot that settled uneasily and twisted in his belly. It took quite a bit of effort to tear his eyes away and look at Hermione. He hoped she would mistake his newly encroaching blush for anger rather than… than…well, rather than whatever he was feeling right now as he watched Harry flex his ankles in those strappy, girly shoes.
Anger. He could slip into anger quite easily. Hermione smiled nervously at him and Harry peeked over at him curiously from behind Ginny. Anger over this wasn't even an option.
"Er –it was different." He nodded, satisfied with that answer. Harry and Hermione seemed to be expecting more though. "Oi, but next time, give a bloke some warning if you're going to foist a Malfoy on him, okay?"
Harry smiled in relief and Ron noticed his shoulders relaxing just slightly. Ginny giggled and Hermione stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand. "Oh, I'm so glad you're not angry with us! I wasn't sure if it was for the best, but I agree with Harry that a different perspective could very beneficial!"
Ron gave her a wry smile and pried his arm away from hers. A different perspective. That was an understatement. "Well, I wasn't exactly happy about it, but I cheered up a bit when I saw Harry's friend pouting on the settee."
Hermione began sorting through the clothing choices and held up something with an olive-green paisley pattern. "Steve's upset. He wanted to be the woman."
"But Hermione and I decided that he just doesn't have the cheekbone structure for it," Ginny said as she applied the finishing touches to Harry's eye shadow. "And Harry has excellent legs to pull this off. I'm almost jealous," she added, much to Harry's dismay. He swatted her hands away and flashed a sheepish smile toward Ron.
"Earlier today, my team received a priority assignment before departing for Asia. We're to apprehend a very slippery dark wizard that's known to frequent The Ball and Chain nightclub hidden away on Knockturn Alley." Harry shook his head vehemently at the paisley robes Hermione offered and turned his attention back to Ron. "There'll be a team of Aurors in drag spread about the club. And a lot of backup, even MLES. It's expected to be quite a fight once we try and apprehend this former death eater."
Hermione held up a brown dress that resembled a burlap sac more than anything, and Harry pulled a face at her. "I'll have a hard time acting feminine as it is, and you want me to go round in that?"
"Just because you intend to look like a woman, it doesn't mean you need to dress like a hussy." Hermione sniffed and held her choice up against Harry's bare chest.
Ginny rolled her eyes snatched a rather skimpy, forest green dress from the pile. "I say go with this." She waggled her eyebrows at Harry and Hermione and winked at Ron. "It'll bring out your eyes, and you'll look sexy! It'll certainly show off your slender hips and those legs of yours, Harry."
Ron crossed the room and sat near the bed on Harry's old trunk. "Couldn't you just, I don't know, polyjuice yourself or work with a female Auror?" Ron asked, trying very hard to suppress disturbing thoughts of any sort that might feature Harry's hips and legs.
Harry seemed to study the duvet pattern intently while Hermione and Ginny quibbled over clothing. "It's not that sort of place, Ron. This nightclub, well, all the women there are actually—"
"No. Stop. I get it," Ron blurted, wrinkling his nose. "I could have lived without knowing that."
Harry raised his eyes to meet Ron's, somewhat shyly. "I thought that sort of thing didn't bother you?" he asked quietly.
"It doesn't, but it does bother me to know that Charlie frequents that place every time he's in England. That's more than I want to know about any sibling of mine," Ron added, shivering in revulsion.
"Oh, I forgot about that!" Ginny said with a giggle. "Too bad he's off in Romania, Harry. He'd be bound to make a pass at you in this." She slipped the green dress off the hanger and held it over Hermione's suggestion.
"I still think that green one is cut a bit too tarty," Hermione said. "He doesn't want to draw the wrong sort of attention!"
Ron personally thought that the grandmotherly look of Hermione's choice of dress would attract the 'wrong sort of attention', but he kept his opinion to himself for once. His mind had quite cheerfully and very disobediently supplied him with a vision of Harry in that forest green dress, of Harry running his fingers through his unruly hair while staring at Ron with sultry, lidded eyes. Ron didn't trust himself to open his mouth and chose to keep his very confusing thoughts contained.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry finally said. "I think I like the green one. It's not too revealing, and it'll go well in this club. I've...er… been there a few times before, just for fun," he added feebly.
That caught Ron's attention. He mentally shrugged any alleged fantasies he may or may not have been indulging in and studied Harry's face. Harry blinked a few times and slipped on a shiny, silver pair of wire frame glasses that had evidently been modified with his prescription.
"You've dressed like a girl before?" Ron blurted without thinking. Some odd little voice in his head hissed, and you didn't tell me?
"No!" Harry said, "Definitely no. A few of us went to see what all the talk was about in our circles. It's not like I have a lot of options without having to pretend I'm a muggle. Though that can be an advantage sometimes," he added, rolling his eyes upward to indicate his forehead before looking directly back at Ron.
He met Harry's gaze for an unknown amount of time, allowing himself to melt into the ring of green, now sheltered by lenses again. Harry seemed to be on the verge of saying something that Ron couldn't read in his eyes for once. As it was, Ron felt his mind was already so muddled with confusing desires and new revelations that he just couldn't grab hold of one stray thought and focus on it. Harry finally turned away with a sigh and smiled slightly at Ginny and Hermione, who were still picking through the pile of dresses and robes.
"Have you two agreed on my evening attire yet?" he interrupted. "I'm sure it doesn't bother you that I'm sitting here, nearly starkers, but it is a bit drafty."
Hermione picked up and dropped several more outfits before sitting next to Harry on the bed, the brown sack-dress in hand. "I still think you should be dressing a bit more conservatively so you don't attract everyone's attention in the club. You're supposed to be undercover!"
Ginny held the green dress up and smoothed her fingers down the material. "Ah, so you admit Harry would look quite fit in this one, right?"
Harry glanced between the girls before looking over at Ron with an expression that promised mischief. Ron straightened up from his slouch, a little wary.
"So Ron," Harry said as he seized both dresses from his friends' hands and held them up to his chest, "what do you think I should go with?" He raised one eyebrow in a way that Ron knew meant Harry was daring him to answer.
"Er…well…" Ron wriggled uncomfortably on the trunk. Why was Harry involving him in this? Couldn't his friend see that he was having a difficult time dealing with this Harry-in-Drag thing for reasons that he didn't dare analyze further? He knew he was accepting of Harry's choices, so why had he felt so strange inside ever since he'd walked into this room?
Hermione and Ginny were watching him suffer, bemused. Ron had already endured a rough day and he didn't need to hear either of them shifting their irritation at each other over to him. "I reckon if you're going out dressed as a woman, it might as well be as an attractive one." He laughed nervously and made a nearly visible effort not to stare at Harry's legs. "Show off your arse in that green thing, right?" Harry continued to observe him with that calculating look on his face, but Ginny whooped.
"See, Ron agrees. You'd look ravishing in this one. I'm surprised that you have such good taste, Ron, considering your bedroom décor. Or is it just that a man can't help wanting to see a nice bum in a tight dress and a pair of sexy legs, no matter who they belong to, even if it is Harry Potter?"
Ron jumped up from trunk with an irrational wave of anger, pointedly ignoring how gaping at Harry had coaxed something into existence that made his trousers too tight in certain areas. "Bloody fuck, Ginny. Would you shut up about Harry's legs? Is there something maybe you aren't telling us about? You're the one who used to date him!"
"Ron, there's no need to shout," Hermione said, a little disgruntled that she'd been outvoted.
Ginny just snorted. "And you, Ronald Weasley, haven't been able to keep your attention off his body since you walked in this room." Ron felt his entire face heat in embarrassment and his eyes strayed involuntarily to Harry, who was watching their confrontation with great interest. "Is there something you aren't telling us?"
Ron wanted to scream, wanted to reassure Harry --lie-- that he hadn't just been entertaining pervy thoughts about him; he wanted to pull Ginny's hair like he did when he was seven years old.
The bedroom door swung open abruptly, diverting Ron's string of jumbled thoughts and emotions. Steve the Cucumber-boy was now peeking in around the door, like some groveling little House-elf. "Are things going well in here? I heard a bit of a fuss and was just wondering. Harry? We're meeting them in a very short time. Are you ready to leave?"
"Nearly," Harry answered, but his eyes were still on Ron. Steve made no notice of this and moved to sit near Harry on the bed. Hermione hastily got to her feet and shot apprehensive glances between Ron, Harry, and Ginny.
Ron remained where he was, several steps from Harry's trunk and feeling very awkward. He narrowed his eyes when Steve pecked Harry on the cheek. Then, to Ron's immediate horror, he cupped Harry's knee in his palm, then slid his hand up Harry's leg, near the hem of his boxers.
"Oh, nice!" Steve crowed in what Ron decided sounded like some sort of a filthy rooster. "I never saw the attraction to smooth legs, but you could certainly change my mind. I can only imagine the benefits," the moron added with a lecherous grin.
"Ihavetogotakeashower," Ron said in a rush, his brain ready to explode. He spun for the door so fast that he nearly fell, but he managed not to make a further idiot of himself as he bolted from the room.
He could still feel Harry's eyes burning into his back and heard Steve's smarmy voice as the bastard said, "Oh, too right! You can't even imagine the smell emanating from his rucksack. The MLES must not have the same hygiene standards that—"
His voice drifted away as Ron rounded the corner into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. He didn't allow himself time to think over what had just transpired in that room, and in fact, all day. He shucked the remainder of his clothing while walking to his bathroom and cranked the faucet as hot as he could stand it. After stepping into the steam and allowing the water to caress his shoulders and back, he finally let himself relax enough for his thoughts to run wild. . Everything was still a very bewildering mess, but one thing had become crystal clear. There were parts of Harry's life that Ron wasn't privy too, even though he had assumed they shared everything. And without any doubt, those were the details that would haunt him until they were discovered.
Harry in drag is something I've happily avoided writing in all my Harry/Ron things. But my collaborator really wanted this part in because she thought it confuse Ron's senses and kickstart him into separating attraction from gender. Thanks for reading!