Title: True Love's First Kiss
Rating: PG-13
Paring: RW/HP (Slash)
Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP
Summary: AU 6th year. Draught of Sleeping Beauty: Causes a victim to be put under its curse of eternal sleep until awoken by true love's first kiss. So, who is Harry Potter's true love?
A/N: Welcome to my first fanfiction, everyone. I know, my first piece and it's slash. Well, don't get too comfy—the only slash I'll write or even read is Ron/Harry (because they seem so perfect together!). This is sorta of taken from the idea of Sleeping Beauty—but where Harry is under the enchanted sleep and Ron is the dashing knight who saves the damsel. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter One: The Ambush
Harry James Potter, a sixth year Gryffindor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Boy Who Lived, star Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team (also its captain), was not having a good year. It was only the beginning of October and he was already behind. Sure, he'd received eight O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels)—including one in Potions—but it was through luck and cramming, not actual skill. At least according to Harry.
Hermione Granger, one of Harry's best friends, had received twelve O.W.L.s (to no one's surprise) and had already begun studying for N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), which they weren't due to take until near the end of their seventh year. But everyone knew better than to tell Hermione that.
Meanwhile, Ron Weasley, Harry's other best friend, had received eight O.W.L.s as well. (To the delight and disappointment of his mother, Molly Weasley; she was glad he did better than Fred and George, his twin brothers who were older by two years, but didn't get as many as Bill, Ron's eldest brother. Percy was still a sore spot with the whole Weasley family.) Ron had even gone into N.E.W.T. Potions alongside Harry and Hermione (much to the disgust of the professor, Severus Snape). But while Harry was feeling like a failure, Ron was completely taking his classes in stride, still waiting until the last moment to do his homework—much to the dismay of Hermione.
In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall, a strict woman who was also head of Gryffindor House) was unrelenting to the sixth years. She was currently teaching Harry and his classmates how to transfigure their partners into various animals depending on the person's size.
Hermione, Harry's partner, wasn't very helpful. She kept trying to correct him whenever he attempted to turn her into a rabbit. After classes she would then drag Harry off to the library to look up the theory of the spell (much like they had in their fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament with the Summoning Charm).
Ron wasn't doing that well with the spell, either (his partner was Neville Longbottom, who actually turned out to be a decent wizard after getting a new wand from Ollivanders), but he'd adamantly refused to study the spell in the library with his two friends; instead, choosing to improve his keeping skills with Dean Thomas (their roommate and one of the new Chasers, alongside Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister by one year). He was actually exhibiting some confidence and skill almost on par with Oliver Wood (the team's previous Keeper), much to Harry's delight.
Meanwhile, in Potions, Snape was angry that Harry and Ron had somehow gotten into his Advanced Potions class and was constantly attacking them verbally during class—which delighted Draco Malfoy (who hated Harry and played Seeker on the Slytherin team) to no end. (The blond was Snape's favorite and one of the top students in Potions.)
In Charms, Professor Flitwick was instructing them to perform the Bubble Head Charm, the same charm that Harry had seen put to use in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament that had taken place two years ago.
Professor Sprout was showing them how to care for some particularly nasty plants in Herbology and was giving them essays by the bucketload. (Actually, all of the teachers were giving the sixth year students plenty of essays.)
But today, things would change for Harry and his two best friends.
After another night filled with nightmares for Harry, he was the first in his dorm to wake up and get the first shower. By the time he came back, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were waking up. (Ron was still out cold.) Harry finished drying off and went to go wake his best mate.
The Boy Who Lived pulled back the velvet curtains surrounding the red haired boy's four-poster and stole a look at him (since the other three boys had already left for breakfast in the Great Hall). Ron was sprawled on his back, his bed sheets tangled among his legs, his chest exposed (for he wasn't wearing a pajama top), his mouth wide open with just a hint of drool making its way down his chin.
Harry sighed. Ron looks so adorable, he thought dreamily. He then just realized what he said in his head.
Stop it, Potter! he told himself. Ron is just your friend. Just. Your. Friend! He won't feel that way for you because he's bloody in love with Hermione.
And there in lied the root of Harry's problems (besides Voldemort). Over the summer, Harry had begun to experience feelings that definitely weren't brotherly towards Ron. They had only increased when he spent the rest of the summer with Ron and his family at the Burrow. When Hogwarts began, Harry found himself daydreaming in class of Ron's lips, his hair, his freckles, his voice…
Obviously Ron had no idea how Harry felt because he still treated the black-haired boy the same way as he had in the past. He still challenged Harry to wizard's chess (of which Harry still couldn't win), talked Quidditch stats and that the Chudley Cannons were going to win this year, help Harry to make up his Divination homework for Professor Trelawney, complain about Snape and Malfoy etc.
Not to mention Ron fancied Hermione. Harry was many things, but he wasn't stupid. He saw how Ron had acted when their female best friend went to the Yule Ball with Victor Krum—he acted like a jealous lover. They bickered like mad, as if there were sexual tension between them. As much as Harry knew he himself felt for Ron, he knew he didn't have a chance with the youngest Weasley male.
The sixth year Gryffindor brought himself back to the present by his stomach, which was reminding him that he hadn't eaten yet. He started shaking Ron's shoulder. "Ron… Ron, get up."
Immediately the red-haired sixteen year old opened his eyes. (Harry resisted the urge to just star blatantly into Ron's crystal blue eyes.) Ron slowly sat up and looked around the room before setting his gaze on Harry, saying, "Where's everyone else?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "In the Great Hall, you git. Come on, we have Transfiguration first today."
"Bloody hell!" Ron cursed as he jumped up to get dressed in his school robes. "I still have five inches left on that essay on animagi for McGonagall!" He was now running around the room, trying to find his red and gold tie.
"Try under your bed, mate," Harry suggested, who then had to stifle his laughter at the look on his best friend's face as he came out from under the bed, the tie clenched in his fist.
"Thanks, Harry," Ron said gratefully as he began to put it around his collar. "I don't know how you do it."
Harry had to work very hard not to turn the exact shade of Ron's hair. Fortunately Ron didn't notice, as he was grabbing his schoolbag.
The two boys left Gryffindor Tower and headed to the Great Hall to grab some breakfast. There they met Hermione, who was already finished with her meal and had her head buried in a heavy book.
"Morning," she said before returning to her reading.
Harry returned the greeting and began putting scrambled eggs and sausages on his plate and pouring some pumpkin juice into his goblet.
"Hermione," Ron said suddenly, "can I see your Transfiguration essay?"
Hermione didn't look up. "You've had ages to do it."
"Please? I only need five inches."
"No, Ron. You had plenty of time to get it done. It's not my fault if you decided to waste your time by playing chess or playing Quidditch." Hermione rolled her eyes.
Ron was beginning to look mad. "Quidditch is important! We have to keep the cup with Gryffindor! Not everyone's obsessed with studying like you, Hermione."
Oh, here we go again. Harry groaned mentally.
Hermione slammed her book shut. "Well, it wouldn't hurt you to do your own homework and try to copy someone else's, you know. N.E.W.T.s are next year and we all need to buckled down on our studies—especially you, Ron. You have some of the worst marks ever and very poor studying habits!" she snapped.
"Oh yeah?" Ron retaliated. "Well, I obviously had good enough marks to get into my current classes! Besides, N.E.W.T.s aren't well until the end of next year—you're just a workaholic, Hermione!"
The two continued to argue the rest of breakfast and all the way to Transfiguration about anything and everything; but luckily enough, they had to sit next to their partners—and Neville was on the other side of the room.
When Professor McGonagall came around to collect their essays, Ron could be heard grumbling about "haughty know-it-all who can't be bothered to help a bloke out," which McGonagall promptly took ten points off Gryffindor for.
The Deputy Headmistress then had the students try again to transfigure their partner. Harry did better this time and managed to turn Hermione into a brown rabbit, but with bushy fur. Hermione, of course, turned Harry into a perfect replica of a deer. Ron had seen this and muttered, "Show off," under his breath so he couldn't lose any more points for Gryffindor.
After Transfiguration, the sixth year Gryffindors went outside on the grounds to Hagrid's hut for Advanced Care of Magical Creatures, which they still shared with the sixth year Slytherins. Today they were studying phoenixes (for Hagrid was allowed to borrow Fawkes from Professor Dumbledore). The firebird immediately went to Harry's shoulder, trilling a few notes, making both Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil squeal then coo at the sight of the phoenix and Harry. (Said boy turned pink with embarrassment.)
The only thing that was off during the lesson (which was very good, seeing as no one was sent to the hospital wing or was scared out of their wits) was Malfoy. The blond haired prefect kept glancing at the Boy Who Lived, his expression unreadable.
It made Harry feel a little uneasy, but he managed to brush it off by the time class was over, where he walked between Ron and Hermione (who were just speaking when absolutely necessary). But by the time lunch rolled around, they were acting normal with each other again. Once again Harry's two best friends acted as if they hadn't bickered in the first place.
All in all, it was a normal day (unless you counted Neville losing Trevor again and turning the Gryffindor common room upside down, looking for his toad and finding him by the fireplace—which afterwards, Hermione fixed the red and gold room with a household cleaning charm). After dinner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat at their usual spot in the common room and began their homework. (Correction: Hermione was doing her homework; Harry was reading the spell book that he'd borrowed from the library to understand the theory behind the spell they were doing in Transfiguration—he believed that reading the theory was actually helping; Ron was polishing his Cleansweep Eleven, glancing at Harry every so often with a concerned look on his face.)
After a full hour of this, Ron had had enough. "Why are you still reading that, Harry?" he asked. "You already performed the spell."
Harry sighed, feeling irritated. "I still didn't get it all the way right."
"That didn't use to bother you before," Ron pointed out, puzzlement lining his face.
"Well, I need top marks to become an Auror. Excuse me if I want to follow through with that!" Harry snapped. He'd already felt on edge today from many things: his nightmares, Malfoy, not being able to do the spell perfectly, his feeling for his best friend whom he was taking his frustration on…
Ron began biting his lip and said, "I didn't mean it like that, mate. I just meant that you're changing. You wouldn't have done this last year or the years before."
Harry shut his book loudly. "That's what happens when people grow up, Ron!" he said angrily, having enough. He stood up and exited the common room through the Fat Lady's portrait. He didn't see Hermione finally look up from her homework, or see the worried/shocked look on Ron's face, or the concerned looks on the other Gryffindors' faces. In fact, Harry was so angry that he forgot to bring his wand with him—which was very unusual since he constantly had it at his side.
Harry was so angry that he didn't even know where he was going. All the green-eyed teenager knew was that he needed to get away from Ron. He passed other people but didn't see their faces, didn't hear their voices.
When Harry finally stopped, he looked around to see where he was. The walls were a dark gray with a few poorly lit torches—and very damp. It was also very cold. It was the dungeons near the Slytherin common room (from what Harry remembered when Ron and he had impersonated—with the help of some Polyjuice Potion that Hermione had brewed—Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Malfoy's lackeys, to interrogate Malfoy himself in their second year).
Harry just realized that he was in Slytherin territory and didn't have his wand with him. Better get out of here…
But his thoughts were interrupted by a noise behind him. Harry turned around, but no one was there. "I'm starting to act like Moody," Harry told himself. "There's no one else here."
"How wrong you are, Potter," said a drawling voice from behind him.
The sixth year Gryffindor jerked around and saw Draco Malfoy leaning against the dungeon wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Malfoy," Harry stated.
The blond-haired Slytherin smirked. "Hmm. What are you doing down here, Potter? You know this is Slytherin territory. Shouldn't you be in Gryffindor Tower like a good little golden boy?"
"Look," Harry said as calmly as he could, "I didn't mean to end up here, so I'll just—"
Malfoy snapped his fingers and someone grabbed the Boy Who Lived from behind. Harry tried to escape but the hands were too strong.
"What's going on?" Harry demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.
BAM! Malfoy had swiftly strode over and hit him in the jaw. "No talking," he said. "I had expected to have to sneak around and get you sometime, but who knew you'd come willingly into a trap? This will be so satisfying."
"What are you talking about?" Harry interrupted.
Malfoy hit him again on the jaw. (Harry was sure it was bruised by now.) "What did I say about talking?"
Harry stayed silent.
"Good." Then the pureblooded boy's eyes hardened. "Thanks to you and your stupid groupies, Potter, my father's now rotting in a cell in Azkaban."
"That's not me and my friends' fault! It's your dad's own stupid fault for joining Voldemort and getting caught at the Ministry!" Harry protested before he could stop himself.
Malfoy then punched Harry in the stomach, making Harry wheeze. "Shut up!" he snarled. The blond then pulled something out of his robe pocket; though Harry couldn't get a good look at what the object was, he had a sneaking suspicion that Malfoy was going to use it on him.
The sixteen-year-old Slytherin noticed where Harry's gaze was at and opened his hand to show him and grinned.
Harry's eyes widened at what it was: It was a needle filled with a light blue liquid—a poison, more likely. Malfoy's smirk only grew bigger at the black-haired boy's reaction.
"This is the instrument of you destruction, Potter," he said, his eyes lighting up malevolently. "For so long you've been Dumbledore's golden boy, being loved by everyone, escaping the Dark Lord five times. Well, your luck's just run out. My father's imprisonment will be avenged!" He began walking towards the captive Boy Who Lived, the needle clutched in his pale hand.
Harry began squirming to try and escape, but his captor's arms just tightened that much more.
Malfoy had just reached him and plunged the needle into the base of Harry's neck inserting the blue substance into the sixth year's blood stream. When all of the liquid had gone into Harry's body, the blond jerked the needle out and nodded to the person holding the wizarding world's savior. "Let go of him, Crabbe."
Vincent Crabbe did as his boss commanded and removed his arms from around Harry.
As he and Malfoy left, the blond aristocrat called out, "Don't worry, Potter! You'll be with your mutt godfather soon!" And he and Crabbe cackled as they turned the corner.
The world was looking blurry to Harry (even though he still had his glasses on) and he started to feel dizzy as the injected substance began to take affect.
Ron… was the last thing Harry thought as he fell to the floor, succumbing to the darkness.
A/N: Well, how was that for a first chapter? As I've said before, this is my first fanfiction (of many to be written, of course—just not all slash; probably most of it will be het, because what most of the couples I like are that). So, could you guys be kind and please review? I accept praise and criticism as well—just don't flame me!
-Princess