Chapter 8. In which rumours of The Fat Lady's new fitness regime are greatly exaggerated...

Ron was the only person from his year to make it to breakfast the next day. Last night as he'd lain in bed, he had been determined to lie awake and relive the most memorable moments of the evening, but his traitorous eyes had slid shut almost as soon as his head had touched the pillow. Goodness knows what time the rest of his dorm had come to bed.

Ron was up early this morning determined to eat his body back to full fitness; after last night he had a feeling he was going to need all his strength to keep up with Draco. At the thought of the other boy he smiled and bit his bottom lip. He still couldn't believe how things had turned out.

Draco had walked him to the Gryffindor common room and then, as promised, had proceeded to snog the face off Ron. It had been very nice.

Ron sniggered into his cornflakes. A few startled first years glanced in his direction at that, he didn't notice, concentrating instead on remembering the rest of the previous evening.

They had continued to kiss for some time, both oblivious to the intense scrutiny of the Fat Lady, who had been frantically fanning herself with one hand, while the other had tried to loosen the frills around her neck - Oh my...

Eventually, when Ron had found it increasingly difficult to stay upright, Malfoy had taken pity on the exhausted boy in his arms. Pulling back, he'd looked up at Ron with a smile.

"So, Ron would you like to get together tomorrow?" He had asked shly.

Ron had blushed - again. Blimey, at this rate he was going to die of heat-stroke. You'd think after all that snogging he'd be past blushing.

"Er, yeah that, that would be great." He'd stammered.

Draco had smiled. "Okay, shall we say 7pm, my room?" He'd tucked a strand of red hair behind an equally red ear as he'd spoken.

Ron had smiled back, "Sounds good." Then, realising something, he'd frowned, "What do you mean your room?"

Draco had shrugged, looking bemused, "I mean my room. You know the place I sleep, where I keep my clothes. In fact all the usual attributes of a bedroom."

Ron had been pouting by then. "But surely you mean dorm."

Malfoy had smiled fondly at the clearly disgruntled redhead. "No, I mean room. All seventh year Slytherin's have their own room, courtesy of Salazar Slytherin himself."

Oh dear, Ron had really looked pissed off then.

"But that's not fair!"

Draco hadn't been able to resist a smirk, "Just one of the many benefits of residing in the best House."

At Ron's heated scowl, he'd decided that, perhaps, the conversation had taken a turn for the worse. Damage control was clearly required.

Pulling the other boy back into his arms, Draco had nuzzled his neck briefly and then whispered into his ear, "It might not be fair, but it does mean we can be alone - whenever we like - uninterrupted..."

Ron had sighed, "I love Salazar Slytherin."

Draco had grinned.

They'd stood for a moment longer, contemplating the possibilities, then with a sigh Draco had relinquished his hold on the taller boy. Leaning up he'd given the redhead a rather chaste kiss on the cheek, "Until tomorrow then." And he'd finally turned to leave. Only to find his departure halted by a hand on his wrist.

"Uh uh, not so fast Draco."

And suddenly, he'd been back in the other boys arms, and once again, warm lips had been pressed against his.

Much as Draco had wanted that moment to go on, he had been mindful of Ron's precarious health; plus his brain had already made the leap to what a well rested Ron might be capable of (well, Draco hadn't been sorted into Slytherin for nothing). With a reluctant sigh he'd stepped back.

"Now that was a good night kiss!" Ron had grinned cheekily. "See you tomorrow."

And with a final smile at Draco, he'd turned to tell the Fat Lady the password.

To Ron's surprise, he'd had to repeat it loudly three times before she'd responded.

Well, that was weird, she'd never had problems with her hearing before. He'd frowned at the portrait as he'd passed through into the common room - had her face always been that red? And she'd seemed rather out of breath - good grief, surely she hadn't taken up jogging?

Shuddering at the thought, Ron had headed for the stairs and bed.

Standing up from the breakfast table now, Ron head shook his head.

Yes, it had certainly been an interesting evening.

Coming out of his reverie, he looked over toward the Slytherin table. There was no sign of Draco or any of the others who'd been at the ball. He couldn't help wondering what the blond had done after leaving him. Had he gone straight to bed, or returned to the ball?

Ron wished he'd been able to stay for longer.

Stupid bloody Muggle 'flu!

Oh well, at least he had this evening to look forward to. He glanced at his watch, 10.30am.

It was going to be one very long day.

When Ron reached the common room, there was still no sign of any of his friends.

He slumped down into his favourite armchair next to the fire. There were a few of the smaller kids around gossiping in groups, probably discussing the Ball. Not a bad idea - and closing his eyes, he settled comfortably into the chair and prepared to relive some of the more eventful parts of the previous evening.

He must have dozed off, as the next thing he was aware of was the sound of giggles and whispers, followed by a louder, more familiar voice, "I think Ron may have stolen your fan club, Harry." That was Hermione.

"He's welcome to it," Harry retorted.

Opening his eyes Ron jumped back in fright.

There was a large group of kids clamouring around his chair, two second year girls practically sitting in Ron's lap. He sat up quickly, bewildered eyes scanning the room for the two friends he had heard moments before. The crowd around him scattered, splintering into giggling, blushing groups.

Harry and Hermione were standing behind his chair grinning.

They headed for the couch, Harry hooking a thumb over his shoulder in dismissal at the boy who was still sitting there staring awestruck at Ron. But the youngster was so mesmerised by the redhead that he totally failed to see the older boy frowning at him.

Hermione snickered, earning her a deep scowl from Ron, who was finding the whole situation rather disconcerting; reaching over she tapped the boy gently on the head, "Scram junior!" And the little tyke scurried off red faced and wide-eyed.

Once they had settled on the sofa, Harry tried to suppress a smile as he shook his head at his friend and declared, "Really, Ron, leave you alone for one morning and you're already corrupting the innocent!"

The other boy looked appalled and opened his mouth to protest but Hermione came to his defence; poking the bespectacled wizard in the chest she said, "Leave him alone you. It's not his fault."

Ron smiled gratefully at her, "Thanks, Hermione."

The bushy-haired girl nodded, "You're welcome Ron. Harry's just jealous because you've become such a stud muffin."

"What?" Ron nearly fell off the chair; his face was flaming and his eyes seemed in danger of falling out of his head.

"Oh, come on, Ron. Don't tell me you haven't noticed?" As always Seamus' timing was impeccable.

Ron groaned and put his head in his hands; he wasn't sure he could deal with the Irishman right now.

Turning their heads to the stairs, the three friends watched as Seamus walked lazily down towards them. He flopped onto the arm of Ron's chair and waved his hand around the room.

"Take a look around Ronnie-boy – you're a star."

Ron shook his head, yep definitely not up to dealing with Mr Finnigan today. Though he did have a point. As much as Ron would have liked to deny the truth of Seamus' words, scanning the room, there did seem to be more than a hint of adoration in the air, and for once it didn't appear to be aimed at Harry.

Bloody hell, when did that happen?

Seamus grinned, then winked over at Harry and Hermione, clearly enjoying the discomfort of his friend. Leaning down he kissed the distressed boy on the top of his head and then started to card his fingers through the red hair.

Noting the reaction of the watching crowd, Seamus shook his head solemnly at the envious faces, "Sorry ladies, but you're just not his type." Then, spotting the boy from the sofa, he pointed and said, "Now you, you might be in with a chance." The boy's eyes lit up at that and the look on his face passed swiftly from devastated to hopeful.

Ron had been spluttering quietly to himself up to this point, but he suddenly seemed to come to his senses and stood up abruptly, dislodging the Irish boy as he did so.

"Ow! Careful Ron, my arse is still sore from Harry's assault last night."

There were a few startled gasps at that, and Hermione had to stuff her fist into her mouth to control her own rising hysteria.

Harry had risen to his feet and was now as red-faced as Ron. "I - I - kicked him!" He declared to the room at large. "Up the arse!" He clarified.

Seamus clutched his hand to his heart and adopted a wounded expression, "Oh Harry, how could you? Seduced and abandoned!" And he slumped dramatically back to the floor.

Hermione looked from the murderous look on Harry's face, to the homicidal look on Ron's, and decided it was probably time for a nice long walk. Grabbing both her friends by the arm she said, "Come on you two, time for some fresh air."

She led them from the room, sparing a moment to send a quick disapproving glance over to where Seamus still reclined on the floor waggling his eyebrows and grinning.

Wandering down to the lake, the three friends were soon sitting on the large rocks that stood on the edge of the water.

"You know, I might just have to take Draco up on his offer."

Harry and Hermione turned curious eyes to Ron. "Oh." They said simultaneously, eyebrows raised.

"Do I really want to hear this?" Harry added with a smirk.

Ron shook his head grinning at his friends. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Potter. No, he offered to 'dispose' of Seamus."

Hermione laughed, while Harry looked appalled and said, "And you declined!"

Ron shrugged, "I was in a good mood – even Seamus couldn't spoil it!"

"Oh," Hermione said slyly. "And what exactly had Mr Malfoy done to make you feel so magnanimous?" And she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Shaking his head sadly, Ron looked over at her and said, "You know, Hermione, I think Seamus may be having a bad influence on you."

For awhile, they just sat and looked out across the water, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Ron who broke the silence; looking suddenly embarrassed he asked. "Er, so why do you think those kids were staring at me earlier." He continued to look into the distance, avoiding their eyes.

Hermione exchanged a grin with Harry. "They like you Ron." She sighed at the confused look on her friend's face, he could be so naïve sometimes. "You know, as in have a massive great big crush on."

Poor Ron looked positively appalled. "But why? They never used to - to - like me."

His two friends shook their heads at each other.

Harry answered him this time, "Actually, mate, you've been getting quite a bit of attention since you took up Quidditch in fifth year – you're just too dense to notice."

"Oi!" The redhead stood up in indignation.

Hermione laughed, "Oh, calm down, Ron. Harry's right – you have gained a lot of admirers over the last couple of years – not just a certain blond Slytherin." She smiled at Ron's blush. "And they've grown considerably in numbers during the last few weeks."

The poor boy looked even more perplexed by that. "But I don't understand. Why? What's happened in the last few weeks?"

"Well, think about it – your life has started to resemble a bit of a romance novel of late."

Ron turned wide eyes to Harry who just shrugged in reply as if he was equally at a loss as to what Hermione was going on about.

Seeing their shared looks of confusion Hermione shook her head and mumbled, "Boys."

Looking back at Ron, she tried to explain.

Draco didn't wake up until well after noon.

Although he hadn't returned to the Ball after leaving Weasley the night before, he hadn't gone straight to bed either. He'd taken a walk down to the lake and sat on the bank, staring out across the dark water, thinking about everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks. It had been almost dawn when he'd finally stumbled into bed, exhausted but happy.

Once showered and dressed, he settled himself into the chair next to his bed and opened the book he was currently reading, determined to spend the rest of the day right there, undisturbed.

Three lines in, and there was a cursory knock at the door before Pansy strode in and flopped down onto his bed.

Draco hadn't looked up from his book. "Please do come in, Pansy," he said before continuing in a voice that sounded scarily like Snape's. "Oh look – you already have."

"Oh, can it, Draco, you know the Snape tone doesn't work on me." She rested her head on one hand and stared at the boy in the chair. "I'm very disappointed in you, you know. You've really let me down rather badly."

Draco finally looked up from his book, eyes narrowed. That damn knot that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his stomach lately was making its presence firmly felt again.

Shit. What if the Slytherins had only pretended to approve last night?

Pansy was examining her nails now, seemingly oblivious to the concern her words had stirred in her friend.

"I was so sure that you would have shagged Weasley well before he left the Infirmary. In fact, I put rather a lot of money on it."

Looking up into relieved grey eyes, she smirked. "You're going to have to sub me for the rest of the term – I blew my whole allowance on you nailing him while he was still too weak to run away!"

Draco threw his book at her head.

Pansy smirked as she made her way over to the Slytherin table; she couldn't help but notice the way Weasley had nearly given himself whiplash turning to see who had walked into the hall.

Well, he was going to be disappointed, Draco had refused point blank to accompany her to lunch. Seems the poor boy was having an attack of pre-date jitters. It was really rather endearing to see the usually cocky little git so unsure of himself. Merlin knows she never thought she'd ever say it, but Weasley might actually be good for Draco - would certainly keep him guessing, if nothing else.

Looking back over to the Gryffindor table she couldn't resist a little wave at the redhead who immediately blushed and looked away.

In fact, this whole situation might be a lot of fun - if Draco survived long enough to actually make it to the date. She'd left him pacing his room trying to convince himself that the previous evening hadn't all been an elaborate Gryffindor plan to humiliate him - a plan that would culminate this evening with Weasley's complete failure to show up while the entire school stood outside Draco's door laughing.

She sometimes suspected that Draco might have an over-developed persecution complex. He had been adamant that he wasn't going to leave his room, afraid to run into Ron and discover the awful truth. He was so sure that, even if the boy's affections had been genuine the previous evening, then Weasley had almost certainly woken up this morning with cold feet, not to mention feelings of utter horror at the thought of an actual 'date' with Draco; was probably even as they spoke, desperately trying to think of a way to get out of it. No, all in all, Draco had declared, it was best if he hid in his room to await his impending doom.

Pansy shook her head - Draco could be such a drama queen.

Ron couldn't hide his disappointment at Draco's non appearance at lunch. He'd really been looking forward to seeing Draco again, even if his stomach had fluttered nervously at the thought. And it wasn't just disappointment that he was feeling; Ron was beginning to suspect that the Slytherin was avoiding him.

What if Draco had changed his mind?

Bugger, what if he was hiding from Ron?

What if it had it all been a joke?

Ron suddenly felt sick, standing up, he left his plate untouched, and with a quick goodbye to his friends walked morosely back to his dorm.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a worried look as they watched their friend walk away. Ron had been so happy earlier, and now he looked like he'd just watched his entire chocolate frog card collection go up in flames.

Noting Draco's absence from the Slytherin table, Hermione was pretty sure she could guess what was going through Ron's mind - it didn't take much to dent Ron's confidence at the best of times, and she knew how much this meant to him.

She was almost certain, that Draco's intentions were genuine and that he had no plans to hurt Ron, but he was also a Slytherin, so it would do no harm to make sure. And she pitied the blond if it did turn out that he was toying with her friend; she had a strong feeling that, if that were the case, then, there would be a long line of people queuing up to point out the error of his ways to Draco.

Looking over at the Slytherin table, she caught Pansy's eye and inclined her head slightly toward the door. The other girl nodded and made her way to the exit. They met in the entrance hall and by mute agreement walked into the gardens.

"So."

"So."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Ron thinks Draco's avoiding him 'cos he's regretting last night, and now he's hoping that Ron will just take the hint and not turn up later."

Pansy nodded. "And Draco is hiding in his room 'cos he thinks last night was a sinister plot to humiliate him, and he's convinced that not only will Weasley not turn up later, but the rest of the school will, just so they can laugh at him."

Both girls rolled their eyes.

"Well, it will certainly be an interesting date."

Pansy couldn't help but agree with Hermione's assessment. "And how does Weasley really feel about Draco?" She asked, already suspecting she knew the answer but just wanting to make sure; she'd murder the ginger git if he hurt her friend.

"Mad about the blond prat. Draco?"

"Completely loopy for the ginger pillock!"

They rolled their eyes and shook their heads again.

Boys.

Ron stood in front of the imposing walnut door shuffling from foot to foot.

Calm down, calm down. It's just a date. Fuck! A date. With Draco Malfoy!

He suddenly had a fit of the giggles. Shit, what was he doing here? And he turned and walked quickly back to the stairs. He was about half-way down them when he suddenly changed his mind, and turning abruptly he marched back up, mumbling to himself the entire time.

"Deep breaths. It'll be fine. Stop being such an idiot. Just walk up and knock on the bloody door."

And then he was at the door again. But, faced once again with that unforgiving façade, Ron's confidence shrivelled up and died.

This time, he got as far as the top step, before common sense kicked in and turned him round again (backed up heavily by the fear of having to confront Hermione and Ginny if he left now).

Ron brushed a hand through his hair in frustration, halting suddenly when he remembered the inordinate amount of time Ginny had spent preening it. Bugger. He carefully removed his hand, and patted the hair back into place; she'd kill him if he messed it up. Right, clearly he needed to get a grip.

Okay, this was it.

His hand was poised and Ron was reaching it slowly forward to knock on the door - and somehow he was back at the stairs. Fuck. Again.

He turned, and took two steps toward Malfoy's door, stopped, turned back, took one step in the direction of the stairs, then stopped. He was just about to turn again, when a loud voice boomed out of the darkness.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Weasley! I can't take this anymore!"

And two large shapes, suddenly loomed out of the shadows behind Ron. He was seized on each side, lifted off his feet and propelled along the corridor at speed. Then, just as abruptly, he was put down in front of Malfoy's door; by which time Ron had recognised his assailants as Crabbe and Goyle. Before he could open his mouth to protest, Goyle had reached out one of his large hands and had rapped loudly on the wood.

Oh, fuck.

The door was opening. Ron swallowed nervously, and braced for impact.

Pansy and Hermione had agreed not to talk to either boy, other than to make sure that they went through with the date.

This task proved a lot easier for Pansy. Draco was still refusing to leave his room, so, as long as he was in there when Weasley turned up, then her part of the bargain was met.

She wasn't quite so sure that Hermione would be able to come through with her own part of the deal, however, and told the Gryffindor girl as much. That was when Hermione had revealed her secret weapon - Ginny Weasley. And all at once Pansy had known the other boy would be there; if anyone could persuade the ginger git, then it was his small, but surprisingly violent, sister. Pansy had almost wished she could be there to witness the assault - er, encounter.

It had taken Ginny approximately fifteen minutes of intense conversation with her brother to convince him of his deep burning desire to go visit Draco.

She had then, picked out his clothes, spent half an hour messing with his hair until - in his opinion - it looked exactly the same as when she had started, and had finally thrust his chess set into Ron's hands, before declaring he was ready.

Ron had looked down at the box in his hands, "Er, why...?"

Ginny had grinned and said, "Really, Ron, at least try to pretend you're not just going there for a shag."

Ron had spluttered, blushed and spluttered again, but he'd been unable to make any more coherent sounds before she had pushed him out the portrait hole with one last instruction for the evening. "Don't you dare come back before midnight - actually between 12.30-12.45 would be ideal - but I'll leave that to your discretion."

Ron had shaken his head sadly. He couldn't believe they were now taking bets on how long his date would last. Forget Draco, he'd murder Seamus himself!

Well, he thought, whoever picked the closest to 7.10pm will be winning this one. He reckoned that's pretty much how long it would take him to walk to Malfoy's door, be rejected and walk back again.

Nice.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at the sight of his two friends flanking his date. Ron looked like he was about to face Voldemort in hand to hand combat. Well, this was certainly shaping up to be an interesting evening.

Ron felt ill; Draco was about to be told that he had had to be carried forcibly to his door, as he had already tried to run away - several times. This could not be good. He prepared to duck.

A nudge to his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. Looking to his left he was surprised to find Goyle nodding at him - encouragingly. Well, that was unexpected.

Goyle nudged him again, this time nodding his head in Draco's direction. Ron just looked blankly back. Then it suddenly hit him. Shit, he needed to say something.

"Er, hi." Fuck, did that squeak really just come from him?

Goyle shook his head in disgust. "Draco, we found Weasley here, wandering around lost and helped him to find your door."

By now, Draco had weathered the wave of relief that had swept over him when he'd opened his door to find Weasley there. All his previous doubts and fears had been washed away on that wave, to be replaced by a warm glow of contentment, tinged with amusement at the redhead's obvious embarrassment. Poor Weasley, no wonder he looked so shell-shocked; Draco could well imagine the sort of 'help' his heavy-handed, if well meaning, friends had afforded him.

"Thank you, Greg, Vincent. I think I can take him from here." And Draco smiled up at Ron, who blushed and looked at his feet.

As the two large Slytherins turned to walk away, Goyle paused to give Ron one last scathing look, then glancing back at his friend said, "Good luck, Draco - you'll need it." And he walked away, shaking his head sadly.

Ron continued to look at his feet, in the desperate hope, that if he watched them closely enough then they wouldn't be tempted to turn tail and run again.

Malfoy smiled at him "Hi," he said warmly.

Ron finally looked up, trusting his feet to do the honourable thing.

"Er-" He stammered, but got no further.

"Oh, come here!" And suddenly Ron was being pulled forward, only stopping when two soft lips met his.

He was just relaxing into the kiss, when Malfoy released him and stepped back. Opening his eyes, he looked into Draco's grinning face.

"I thought we should get the kiss out the way. That way you might be able to relax enough to unclench and not break something that we might have a use for later."

Ron grinned back, "Good thinking."

They actually managed to get through two whole games of chess, before the board was swept roughly out of the way...

Malfoy's mouth was on his neck, licking at first, then sucking gently.

Ron started to snigger.

Pulling back Malfoy looked up at the other boy. "Er, should I be offended, Weasel?" He raised an eyebrow in mild enquiry.

Ron took a deep breath, trying to reign in his laughter. The last thing he wanted to do now was piss the other boy off; not when things were starting to get interesting. He looked down at the Slytherin and smiled. "Sorry, Draco. It's just-," and he giggled again. "I couldn't help thinking of Seamus' words from last night" He reached over to run his fingers gently through the blond's hair.

Malfoy turned his head to kiss Ron's wrist. "So, Weasley, you think I'm a vampire, do you?" And he bared his teeth for effect, before biting gently at the boy's exposed arm.

Ron grinned. "Well you are very pale..."

The Slytherin leapt suddenly, pushing Ron onto his back and straddling his waist. Holding the other boy's hands on either side of his head, Malfoy leant down and whispered into his ear. "But then, so are you."

Ron gulped and looked up into his eyes. "I've - I've not been well." He stammered.

Malfoy sniggered. "Oh dear, does that mean you don't have the strength to fight me off?"

Ron made no attempt to move. Then slowly, deliberately, eyes not leaving Malfoy's, he nodded his head.

Pale hands crept downwards and started to unbutton his shirt.

Meanwhile, back in the Gryffindor common room...

"Bad luck, Harry." Seamus sounded anything but sorry. Shit-eating grin in place he turned to Dean. "So that leaves just me and Snape, right?"

Dean nodded, "Yep. If Ron gets back in the next half hour, you win. After that, then Snape wins - again."

"Hey, you don't think he'd lock Ron in Malfoy's room or anything do you?" The Irishman suddenly sounded less sure of himself.

Hermione shared a look with Ginny. "Trust me, Seamus, he won't have to lock Ron in!"

The five blokes there made a variety of noises designed to indicate 'eew', while four of the five girls shared wistful sighs (Ginny abstained - well it was her brother).

Draco slipped the last button through the hole. Pausing, he sat up and took a moment to look down at the boy laid out before him. Then he pulled back the shirt. Leaning forward, he kissed the collarbone that jutted out in obvious invitation. He couldn't believe how warm the pale flesh felt under his lips.

And Draco couldn't believe he was finally doing this. It was as if all his dreams where here, suddenly real, under his fingertips.

Ron sighed as hands trailed down his sides, pausing at his waist. Suddenly his breath hitched and he wasn't quite so sure. He pushed the other boy back, gently.

Eyes connected, waiting for an answer. Then a kiss and a touch, hands were at his throat and finally in a whisper.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Merlin, no."

Then, Malfoy was slowly undoing his own shirt, while Ron watched, unable to tear his eyes away.

The cloth had barely fallen from Malfoy's shoulders and he was leaning down again, pressing their bare chests together. Ron hissed at the feel of the warm skin against his own. Suddenly needing more of the boy in his arms, he pulled him closer.

"Draco I want - I need -" Ron didn't know how to continue - didn't know what it was he wanted or needed. Luckily, the other boy did.

Warm lips trailed down Ron's chest. A tongue reached out to lick.

Oh, Merlin. Ron's brain started to melt out of his ears.

The sound of a zip - his zip, shocked him back to his senses.

His head shot up, and Ron found himself looking down into questioning grey eyes. Gulping, Ron nodded slowly. Lowering his head back down, he silently commended his spirit to the gods, and closed his eyes.

Bloody hell.

"I don't fucking believe it!" Seamus was not happy. "Snape wins again! Bastard!"

Those that were still awake, shared sleepy grins - there was nothing quite like a thwarted Seamus.

"What time is it anyway?" Harry asked, yawning loudly.

Hermione squinted at her watch, "5.25am."

"Bloody hell!"

"Well, you know what Ron's like."

All eyes shifted to Neville - eyes wide with shock and nervous trepidation at what the quiet boy's next words would be.

"He always forgets the time when he's playing chess."

Disbelieving looks were exchanged amongst smiles and bemused shakes of the head as the chubby boy stood and headed for the stairs. Poor Neville, he could be so naïve.

Just before he disappeared from sight, Neville paused on the stairs, and shouted back down.

"And they're probably shagging like bunnies!"

Then he continued on his way.

End