LHCD

Chapter 56

2008-08-11T02:17:10Z

“Granger, what’re you doing here of all places?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Parkinson.”

“I got a call from a rather hysterical Theo,” Pansy said wearily. “Something to do with-”

“Frisbees,” Hermione finished for her. “I got a call from Harry which was quite hysterical too, now you mention it. After you.” Hermione motioned for Pansy to walk through the door and followed her into the police station.

They found the boys all looking rather morose, all sat in the reception area, and all in handcuffs.

“What in the bloody hell does being arrested have to do with Frisbees, may I ask?” snarled Pansy.

“Ok now, calm down,” Draco said cautiously.

“We can explain everything,” Harry said in a high pitched voice.

“Bloody misunderstanding,” Ron muttered.

“Frisbee… and person… and wheelchair… and not my fault,” Theo sobbed randomly.

Seamus just held Theo in a hug and looked bemused.

“Ok now,” Hermione said, sighing, “once more, from the top.”

“We may have been playing Ultimate Frisbee,” Draco said, shrugging. “And Weasley here may have been a stupid twat and, whilst trying to catch it and jumped into a girl in a wheelchair. And she may not have believed it was an accident and called the police.”

“Bloody… fucking… PIGS!” Ron yelled, and was immediately hushed by a hard whack across the back of the head from Pansy.

“And Ron may have got rather annoyed with the police and yelled at them,” Harry explained wearily. “And then Malfoy and Seamus may have joined in. And then Theo may have started crying. And then Ron may have been arrested for verbally assaulting a police officer and we may have been quite upset and argued back and we may have been arrested for wasting police time.”

“And now the police may keep us in the cells overnight unless Ron apologises, which may refuse to do. Only, replace all those ‘may’s with ‘will’s.” Seamus looked up at Pansy and Hermione, apprehensive.

She rolled her eyes. “Ronald, you really must apologise, you know. The police are quite an important part of the muggle world. A bit like wizarding Aurors.”

“Aurors?!“ Ron gulped. The thought of someone who could do the equivalent damage of an Auror without even owning a wand obviously terrified him. “I suppose I had better go and apolgise. You know, for the good of the rest of you.”

Seamus sniggered. “Yeah Ron, coz you’re obviously so concerned about our well being, what with getting us arrested and all.”

Ron glared and walked up to the counter. “Ok look Mrs, I’ve come to formally apologise for yelling at you earlier and getting all my friends in trouble and tha’, so do you think you could un-handcuff us, like?”

The officer behind the desk sighed. She had had a stressful day and didn’t need to deal with the high jinks of five teenage boys, one of whom had a terrible temper, one of whom obviously thought he was above the entire situation, one who thought he was hilariously funny when he really wasn’t, one of whom looked generally confused and one of whom was acting like a five year old. This job was nothing like it had been on the Bill, which is mostly where she had got the idea of becoming a police woman from. Really, she wanted to be a jazz singer, but she didn’t really have the opportunity. Mind you, if she let them go at least they would be out of her hair and she’d be free to go practice. Decisions, decisions…

“Ok fine,” she sighed, walking round the desk to remove the boys handcuffs. “But look, don’t go thinking your clever and pulling this kind of stunt again, right?”

The boys nodded forlornly. “Has anyone ever told you, you have a wonderful voice,” Draco said to the woman as they left, “you should use it. Sing in a jazz band or something.”

“Right,” Seamus said with some force when they were outside. “I am fed up with today already. I’m going to take Theo home to bed.”

Because after Hangovers, post-it notes, hysterical flat mates, pulp, Citrus Fruit Olympics, ducks, picnics, Frisbees, angered physically disable people, police stations , handcuffs and a mad Pansy it had been a very long day and Seamus reckoned that even an Irishman deserved some fun.

Even if it was only seven in the evening.

Chapter 55

2008-03-05T00:37:46Z

As soon as he opened the door a small orange object came flying out of corridor to Seamus’s flat and hit him square in the forehead. Seamus groaned. He didn’t need this. He’d already woken up with a hangover and a post-it note on his head. Another small orange object flew his way and Seamus ducked, as skillfully as her could with a banging headache. He vaguely remembered seeing Neville shivering outside and hiding behind a car, muttering something about tangerines, but Seamus just thought he may have been having a psychotic episode. Plus, things like that happened quite often round here anyway.

Seamus made his way down the corridor, avoiding the pulp on the floor and the occasional flying orange until he stopped at the cause of the commotion. Which appeared to be Dean and Michael and Terry. Wielding tennis rackets.

Seamus blinked. “Riiiiight…” he stated confusedly, alerting the three boys, all of whom were orange from head to toe, to his existence. “Would you please explain just… what the… fuck?”

“Citric Fruit Olympics,” Dean replied brightly.

“And that’s supposed to make me less confused how exactly?”

“Well this is tangerine tennis and earlier we had Satsuma soccer, lemon long jump and pomegranate pole vault.”

Seamus refrained from asking how you could pole vault a pomegranate. “Okay then. Right.” He was trying desperately to grab on to something vaguely logical but decided that he had too much of a headache and gave up. “I think I might go to that barbeque now.”

“Oh, but you’ll miss the Clementine cycling,” Michael whined, clearly upset at the prospect.

“I’m sure I’ll live,” Seamus said firmly, and then walked out of the corridor, narrowly escaping another tangerine.

He found Neville out in the car park and knelt down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “Do you want to come to a barbeque with me Neville?” he asked soothingly.

Neville looked up, petrified. “Will there be any citrus fruits there?”

“No, Neville, none.”

“Oh good, yes, please, then.” He got up and walked with Seamus, deep in thought. “You should’ve seen the lemon long jump, it was terrifying.”

“I’m sure it was, Neville,” Seamus said wearily. Hangovers, post-it notes, hysterical flat mates, pulp, and Citrus Fruit Olympics. It was going to be a long day.

Chapter Fifty Four - dedicated to kerryblaze for her birthday :D

2006-11-17T19:46:57Z

“Why is it that all my family have to be mad?” Ron asked morosely as he sat on the blanket next to Harry.

“Dunno Ron mate. I’m taking it that your Tuesday Sunday Family lunch didn’t go well then?” Harry rubbed the top of his head. It was still sore where Pansy had yanked it.

“My mum fainted.” Ron laid backed and shielded his eyes from what he reckoned would probably be the last of the autumn sun.

“Well, wouldn’t be a proper Weasley gathering without someone fainting, would it?”

“You see, this is what I’m talking about!” Ron groaned as Hannah plopped down next to them.

“Ronald Weasley,” she began in a chastising tone. Ron groaned again. “Do you have any idea why I came home last night to find a depressed Irishman sat on my couch in his dancing shamrock boxers, drinking my beer, and rambling on about you getting off with his boyfriend?”

“I do not wish to discuss this, to be completely honest, Han.”

“Tough shit, I do.” Hannah was well known for getting her own way. “Now, do you want to continue upsetting Seamus, or do you wish to stop fucking around with him and continue with Malfoy?”

“Fuck’s sake Hannah,” Ron grumbled, taking a swig of the beer Harry had just handed him. “I am tired, I am hung over, I have an entire set to think of and rehearse for Saints ‘n’ Sinners for two weeks time and I really do not want to be discussing my love life with complete perverts like you.”

Hannah, realising that she wouldn’t get anything more out of Ron for the moment, made a resounding “humph!” noise and marched off to where Michael had just turned up and was now looking slightly scared as Hannah approached him.

Ron joined Harry and laid back on the towel, resting his beer on his stomach with a contented sound. “Girls. Dunno how you put up wit them, Harry mate.”

“well, you know it’s pretty easy, you just give into their every whim,” Harry replied cracking a grin. Ron snorted.

“How am I gunna get this gig sorted in two weeks? It’s impossible I reckon.”

“You’ll be fine mate, trust me. You’ve got an ace band, Seamus’ll help you out I’m sure, Hannah, well… she’s Hannah and Blaise, you just tell him what to drum and he’ll drum it. I honestly don’t know someone who could get ready for a gig in two weeks better than Saints ‘n’ Sinners.”

“Aww, thanks Harry mate. You know, it’s times like this when I remember why you were my first friend.”

Harry raised himself up on one elbow and raised an eyebrow at Ron. “Ron, I know you’re gay but please don’t go soppy on me. I think we nearly had a “moment” then. Which reminds me, I think I know what that whole thing with you and Seamus is now. Good shag is he?” Harry grinned.

Ron groaned and flopped back, effectively knocking his beer onto the floor. “And then it’s times like this when I realise why I forgot in the first place.”

Chapter Fifty Three

2006-05-26T21:36:10Z

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dude,” a voice came from Hannah’s sofa as she came in from her late shift at the library. She hated late shift’s, seeing as all that meant was spending several hours re-shelving the books with an increasingly uptight and shrill Hermione. There were only so many times you could stand Hermione saying “No, that goes in human biology section, not marine biology.” in three hours.

Of course, coming back to your flat and having a hot, drunk Irishman sat on your couch in boxers with dancing shamrocks on always made a bad day better, even if he was gay.

“Dude?” Hannah repeated carefully, not knowing what sort of dude that could have been. “Dude as in…?”

“Dude as in, ‘dude if your ex and you current boyfriend’s get off with each other are you entitled to go to the nearest person’s flat and drink their beer in large quantities‘?”

“I should think so, yes.” Hannah plopped down next to Seamus and opened herself a beer. “Nice boxers by the way.”

“Thanks,” Seamus replied glumly.

Hannah put her arm around Seamus and he snuggled into her shoulder gladly.

“Now let me get this straight, this has something to do with Theodore and Ron, right?”

Seamus looked up sharply. “How’d you guess about Ron?”

“Seamus hun, it’s not hard. There’s so much UST between you two that you can nearly see it.”

“Yeah well, s not my fault he’s hot.”

“True,” Hannah replied thoughtfully. “It is a Weasley thing.” She shook her head to clear the mental images. “But anyway, what happened?”

“Me an Ron an Theo kinda got off,” Seamus mumbled, burrowing further in.

“And this is a problem because…?”

“Coz I really like Theo an I really like Ron but Ron needs to shag Draco cuz there’s even more of the US whatever you said between them and I’m confused,“ Seamus whined.

Hannah sighed. If there was one thing worse than confused teenage girls, it was confused teenage guys. Worse than that was confused, gay teenage guys. Worse than that was confused, drunk, gay teenage guys. Worse than that was confused, drunk, depressed gay teenage guys. And then somewhere above that was Seamus. “it’ll be okay hun, you’ll see. Just sit back and let them sort themselves out.”

Seamus nodded and then suddenly sat up. “Thanks Han. Do you know how pretty you are?” he asked seriously, looking at her critically and raising a hand up to brush her fringe away from her face. She blushed and squirmed. “No really. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Hannah raised an eyebrow. She was rather good at it, it ran in the family. “I do. His name is Michael.”

“’S a shame.”

“Why…?” Hannah asked cautiously.

“Coz I was gunna do this,” Seamus said, lunging forward and attaching his mouth to Hannah’s for a few seconds, before slumping over sideways and beginning to snore.

Hannah sat with her mouth open for several seconds before closing it and shaking herself. “Seamus?” she tried. No response. “Right.”

She swung herself off the sofa and searched out a pad of pink heart shaped Post-It notes. Tearing on off, she quickly scribbled;

“Sea,

Gone to bed. We’re all going to the park for a BBQ tomorrow if you feel up to it. If not, enjoy your hangover!

Hannah x”

Then, marching over to the couch, she promptly stuck it on Seamus’s forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Fifty Two

2005-10-28T08:54:08Z

~~~~~~~~~~

All in all, Seamus thought as he strolled through the campus with Theo’s arm slung around his shoulder, “Disastrous Dancing” or what ever it had been called, wasn’t a bad film for a date. It had disgusted them both so much that they had left halfway through and gone to the pub.

Looking over at Theo drunkenly stumbling down the path, singing his heart out at 1am, Seamus also thought it was a rather bad (if not downright stupid) idea to challenge an Irishman to a drink out. Seamus was only slightly tipsy. Theo on the other hand, was as drunk as… a very drunk thing.

“You got the keys?” Seamus asked Theo as he leant against the door. The number on it was slightly blurry but Seamus decided as long as Theo’s face didn’t meet the same doom, he was fine.

“’S your flat, Seamus, mate,” Theo slurred and Seamus laughed because of course it was his flat. He shoved his hands in pocket, withdrew they keys and, once he had found the right key, finally unlocked the door. He had barely shut it when he was shoved up against it, his arms full of kissing Slytherin.

It was a particularly good kiss, in technique, because no one was good when they were blind drunk. It was sloppy and under-prepared, but god damn, Seamus thought, shoving his hands up Theo top to scrape his nails down the exposed pale skin, just as Theo reached both his hands down Seamus’s pants.

Seamus could feel Theo’s tongue sliding against his, and one of his hands sliding over his arse, and one sliding along the underside of his rapidly inflating cock. The Irish boy swore he was getting drunker by the minute. He could hear the sound of the growls coming from the back of Theo’s throat, the moans from his, the sound of his zipper coming down, and Theo pulling his cock from it’s restricting jeans and… the sound of someone knocking at the door.

“’Fuck’s sake,” Theo half whispered, half slurred in Seamus’s ear. Seamus turned around and yanked the door open, fully aware that he looked debauched, had his cock sticking out of his jeans and a purple haired sex god attached to his neck.

“Yes?” Seamus bit out sharply.

“Hallo, I bring great and fantabulous news!” Ron looked at Theo and frowned. He looked as drunk as Seamus felt. “Oops sorry, did I interrupt something. Oh well, never mind. You’ll never guess what, Sea?” Ron carried on without waiting for a reply. “I managed to get Saints ‘n Sinners a gig! A PROPER gig. Like one with a stage and tickets and an outdoor venue and shit.”

Seamus stared. Seamus grinned. Seamus whooped and threw his arms around Ron. “You did it!” he yelled, jumping up and down. “You really fucking did it! I could kiss you!”

Inevitably, both boys being drunk and a bit horny (Seamus because of Theo and Ron because, well, he was Ron) the next thing that Seamus did do was to smash his mouth into Ron’s. He felt their teeth smash together and shivered, loosing his hands in the red hair swimming before his eyes. Ron immediately grasped Seamus’s arse and pulled him closer, biting on his lip until he felt the Irish boy moan as he drew blood.

Seamus withdrew from the kiss, panting, and stared at Ron, who’s breathing was also harsh. Fuck he has missed this boy. But right this minute, he had another completely sexy guy standing behind him, his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, his face looking like thunder.

“Erm… sorry?” Seamus half apologised, half asked to Theo.

Ah, this isn’t good at all, if Theo’s face is anything to go by, Seamus thought as Theo’s face darkened dramatically. They were in big trouble. Seamus shut his eyes tight and braced himself for yelling, cursing, maybe even a punch.

What he wasn’t expecting was for a look to pass between Theo and Ron. And for Theo to march up and snog the face off of Ron, grab him by the front of his t-shirt and pull him into the flat, motioning for Seamus to shut the door behind them. Seamus shut it.

He watched Theo lead Ron through to his bedroom, still snogging and groping, with amusement. He wondered how Theo knew which bedroom was his. And then Theo threw Ron onto the bed and Seamus watch with shock. Anyone that could do that to Ron Weasley was good.

Maybe they were still in big trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Fifty One

2005-10-03T18:35:49Z

WARNING; This is not actually my work, it has been written by the wonderful bergann who has given her full permission for this to be made into an honarary LHCD chapter. So, with out further ado...

Name: Bathroom Tiles
Author: bergann
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Rated: NC-17
Word Count: 1 618
Warnings: Sexual content. Language.
Summary: Parents. Apparating. Green Silky Bathrobe. Bathroom. Draco.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ron wondered if it would be wrong of him to curl up into a corner and wait for death to take its grip on him. Of course this would mean a halt in the progress and music making for Saints and Sinners. And curling up in a corner to await death would pass by too slowly.

“RONALD WEASLEY!” But then again Saints and Sinners could always get someone else to take his place. Which they might have to do if Ron didn’t do anything quickly. Not really sure what he was doing or where he was planning on going, he did the one thing any sensible wizard in great peril would do to escape the wraths of their parents. He apparated.

Bang!

Ron wasn’t sure if he wanted to open his eyes. The fact that he could hear the sound of a hair dryer was enough to make him wonder where he had apparated to, or as to whom he was now standing in the same room with.

“Well, Weasley.” The familiar drawl from Malfoy reached Ron’s ears and made his eyes open in shock. “Do you have a habit of appearing in other people’s bathroom? Or is it just the fact that you can’t stay away from me that makes me the rather unfortunate one?”

It doesn’t even pass Ron’s mind that he doesn’t want to be there, doesn’t want to see Draco in that azure towel wrapped so loosely around his waist that just the slightest tug could make it fall down and that he doesn’t want to be in Draco Malfoy’s bloody bathroom until it’s too late.

“No, you’re the bloody lucky one, that’s who you are,” Is the only retort that comes from Ron, and admittedly he could have done better. “Now sorry from disturbing you from your beauty treatment, I can think it must take you hours in the morning for you to look as terrible as you usually do, and who would I be to stop you? Now –”

“Now, now, Weasley, you must know the rules of so rudely barging into the flat of Draco Malfoy?”

“Nope, don’t think so. Too bad. No whatever-you-have-up-your-bloody-sleeve on me, thanks. I’ll see myself out as you are clearly busy.”

“No, not at all. Let me lay them out for you. One; no one is to enter the flat without permission, especially not by apparating into the bloody bathroom! Two; any Weasley as dumb or as rude to ignore rule number one is to serve the host of the flat by some acts of…kindness…”

“You mean sexual acts, don’t you?”

“Well, you might be exceptionally stupid, but you do know some things. I’m impressed, Weasley. I thought I’d have to spell it out for you.”

Ron figures he must have two instincts. One that keeps him alive, and one that keeps others alive as well. The second one must have been that which was at the current moment saving Malfoy’s arse from certain injuries, and giving Ron the upper hand at the moment, or well, lower if you wanted to be really specific.

Or just letting Ron get this over and done with so that he could go and find out when the next train out of the country went.

“Not now, Weasley!” Malfoy hissed, though his words were slightly ruined by the groan that escaped him.

Ron frowned, “Why not? And I’ve told you, Malfoy, it’s Ron.”

“Father in the other room, you dimwit.”

The frown easily became more pronounced, “You shower when your father visits? Not that it surprises me, I’d want to spend as little time as possible around him, but I thought that since you’ve bloody grown up with him you should be used to the stench.” Ron paused. “Or maybe it’s you who stinks, you know, all of that aftershave and all…”

“Weasley.” Even though Draco’s voice is threatening, Ron does little to show he heard the warning tone in the voice.

“It’s Ron, it’s not that hard. Say it with me, Ar-oh-en.” Ron removed his hand from Malfoy’s crotch, the towel being so loosely wrapped around, falling down. “How ‘bout this, you hold me to this ‘sexual act’ thing, and let me sneak out,”

“No, I think I’d like to keep you in here until he leaves.”

“I can just apparate out of here!” Ron stated, looking oddly at Draco.

“Then why haven’t you done so already?”

Ron opened and closed his mouth, before seating himself down on the toilet seat moodily. “Well, hurry up then, you git,” he stated, propping his head up on his elbows.

-

“Alright, Ronald, he’s gone.” Draco came walking into the bathroom, only to find it empty. “Eh, Ronald?”

Hearing footsteps approaching him from behind, he turned around to find Ron walking around in what Draco was pretty sure was his green silk bathrobe Ron was wearing as he headed towards the kitchen.

“Weasley, what did I say before I left you in the bathroom?” Draco asked, following Ron and couldn’t help but find that Ron did look extremely good in the silk bathrobe, as the back of it was currently sticking to his ass.

“Not to leave it? But seriously, I barely ate today and it was friggin’ hot in the bathroom. So I figured you wouldn’t mind terribly if I made myself comfortable in the meantime,” Ron explained over his shoulder, before Draco reached out and yanked Ron backwards.

“Well, I said bathroom so bathroom it is going to be,” Draco stated, his voice firm and had the suggesting tones that there would be no arguing from Ron on this one. And, surprisingly enough, there wasn’t.

Instead Ron grinned and placed his lips on Draco’s, pushing him back into the bathroom and Draco was surprised to find that Ron was already hard.

“Really, Ronald, that excited?” Draco commented, but it didn’t come out how he wanted it to. Talking with something, or in this case, someone covering your mouth and cupping your crotch is never an easy task.

Ron’s only reply was to press Draco harder against the wall of the bathroom, massaging him through the trousers. After a short while a groan escaped one of the boys, both now rock hard.

Ron removed his hand from Draco’s crotch and started, instead, to make off with the trousers Draco had changed into earlier, undoing the button and unzipping the zipper. Draco could do little more than groan, seemingly too lost in the moment to tell Ron to be a bit more careful or to make a comment.

Ron would make a mental note of that this was one way to get Draco to shut up completely.

The trousers finally coming off, Ron noticed that Draco was not wearing any boxers underneath the black trousers, and all though this should not surprise him, seeing as how Ron had had his hand down Draco’s pants before, it did.

But Ron had no time to let this show.

Draco had found it about time for the bathrobe to be removed, and was pushing it down off Ron’s shoulder, uncovering Ron’s tall, naked body as the robe fell to the floor and joined Draco’s trousers.

“Turn around, Ron,” Draco said, breaking the contact of their lips. Looking into Ron’s eyes, he was surprised that there was some humour hidden in them. “Something funny?”

“Yeah… You’re expecting to be the fucker, not the fuck-ee,” Ron stated, before grabbing Draco by the shoulders and turning him around, pressing him up against the wall. Frowning lightly, Ron pressed his foot slightly against the back of Draco’s knees, making them buckle and Draco to go crashing down the floor.

“You idiot!” Draco hissed, but gathered himself on all four and stuck up his ass for Ron. Ron grinned, figuring that this would be one rare moment in time where Draco did something under a Weasley’s orders.

Taking Draco’s pants, Ron retrieved Draco’s wand and pointed it towards Draco, who had moved himself so that he was bent over the toilet. “Lubecrus.”

”Really, Ronald, do get your ass in gear and just fuck me already!”

“Fine.” Dropping the wand, Ron moved back over to Draco, positioning himself at the entrance before thrusting in. A hiss of pleasure escaped Draco’s lips as Ron filled him up.

“Fucking move. What are you, new to this?” Draco asked, gritting his teeth and grinding himself back against Ron.

“No, just—Fuck, forget it,” Ron replied, having grasped Draco by the hips and was starting to thrust in and out fiercely.

Draco moved one hand to his erect cock and started pumping himself in tact with Ron’s thrusts.

Orgasms were quickly approaching both boys, groans escaping them both as Ron’s thrusts became more fierce, slamming himself deeply inside of Draco, seemingly haven forgotten that he had been a bit more caring about Draco’s well-being through it all, for in the morning Draco’s hips would be both black and blue.

“Bloody hell!” Ron shouted as he came, his voice getting high pitched, spilling his entire load inside Draco’s arse. Draco pumped himself quickly, until his orgasm hit him, making him spill his cum all over the floor and toilet, the only word escaping him was a loud ‘fuck’ and it would most defiantly be heard from the neighbours, if they had not already gone deaf by Ron’s abnormally high pitched voice from before.

“Bloody hell, Ron… If I’d known you could fuck like that, I wouldn’t have let you just jerk me off the other day,” Draco said as Ron pulled himself out of Draco’s tight arse, before Ron laid himself down on the bathroom tiles besides Draco.

Well, maybe Weasley gatherings came in handy sometimes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Fifty (woot times 4)

2005-09-09T18:38:49Z

~~~~~~~~~~

Bang!

“Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!”

Ron grunted and rolled over, squinting his eyes open q minute amount so that he could just about recognise the shock of short, bright red hair that belonged to one of his elder siblings.

“I don’t know how, and I don’t know when,” Ron began in a dark and threatening voice, “but one of these days I shall fully get Ginny to teach me her Bat Bogey Hex and then I will hunt you down, Fred Weasley, hunt you down like a dog.”

“But until that day,” Fred said in a cheerful voice, plonking down on the end of Ron’s bed and bouncing, “you’ll have to put up and shut up. Now come on, up!“

“Fred, it’s ten to twelve on my one day off.” Ron sat up and stretched, flexing his wide, bare shoulders in the dappled light that was entering through the partially covered window. “Could you at least not picked a time to come annoy me when you know that I would be awake?”

“it’s Ginny’s day off today too,” Fred said randomly.

“I know that; I’m not stupid.”

“That’s why mum wishes to have your presence at a family Sunday roast in exactly seven minutes.”

“It’s Tuesday today,” replied Ron with a confused look.

“That’s what I said.” Fred frowned. “Mum said to get our arses there anyway.”

Ron groaned.

“Exactly my response,” Fred said, getting up off Ron’s bed and brushing his trousers down. “I’ll see you there. Oh, and I’d put some clothes on before you go, if I were you.”

Bang!

“I knew there was a reason I was going to put anti-apparating charms on this flat,” Ron grumbled, glaring at the spot Fred had just been standing on as he climbed out of bed. He pulled some clothes on and yelled a hasty; “Going out!” at the general direction of Zach’s bedroom door, for which he got a grumpy sounding reply of; “Good.” Ron rolled his eyes as he visualised the kitchen of the Burrow and disapparated.

Bang!

“Ah, Ron, good,” a stressed-looking Mrs Weasley said as soon as Ron appeared. It seemed that each Weasley had a different apparation noise, of which only Mrs Weasley could tell the difference, even if it had taken her two attempts to get Fred and George right. “You can go and stop Fred and George winding Percy up so much that he curses them both.”

“Welcome back to the madhouse little bro,” Charlie whispered to Ron, continuing his job of setting the table.

“And they clearly are quite dangerous!” Ron heard Percy’s shrill voice say as he walked into the crowded living room.

“What’s going on now?” Ron asked the room at large.

“Percy and the twins are arguing about how dangerous Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes love potions are,” Mr Weasley said from behind his Daily Prophet.

“Mainly because one they sold to Penelope Clearwater was used on him and actually worked,” Ginny whispered with a grin. “She tried to get him to swing the other way.”

“Take more than that to get old Perce to swing the other way,” Ron said in between bursts of laughter. Percy looked murderous. Mr Weasley looked confused.

“Food’s up!” Charlie called from the kitchen. The following mass rush of bodies towards the table could be, and had been, compared to a stampede of African antelope.

Ron somehow found himself sandwiched between Charlie and Fred. The table was alive with vegetables being passed, loud chatter and laughter. Ron beamed around at his family; he had missed occasions like this over the past few years.

“You might want to be careful who you turn that grin on, they might think you’re a bit bonkers,” Charlie whispered in Ron’s ear and he had the good grace to tone it down a bit.

“So what has everybody been up to?” Mrs Weasley asked happily, helping herself to mashed potatoes.

George grinned at Ginny. Ginny frowned at George.

“Well I know for a fact that Ginny’s been snogging Hermione’s boyfriend and leading Neville on.”

“George Weasley,” Ginny began yelling. “That’s a downright lie and you know it. And plus, I happen to know that Charlie went on a date with Dana without telling Tonks!”

“Well if it’s like that,“ Charlie said with a frown, “Fred’s been shagging random college girls!”

“I’m not even the worst!” Fred yelled, looking from Ginny, George and Charlie’s angry red faces to Mrs Weasley’s white and shocked one. “Percy’s been living with Oliver Wood, a bloke!“

Percy looked outraged. “I was going to tell you, unlike Ginny! She hasn’t even told Hermione or Neville!”

“Yeah, well… Well…” Ginny seemed to have run out of things to say, until she jumped in her seat and glared at Ron. “Well Ron jerked off Draco Malfoy in an alleyway in town!”

There was a sudden thump and everyone peered over the edge of the table at Mrs Weasley’s prostrate form. She had fainted.

“Well err… what do you think we should do with her?” Ron said hesitantly, finally breaking the silence.

“I’d leave her there,” Bill said, shutting the kitchen door behind him. “After all, it’s not a proper Weasley family gathering without someone fainting, is it?”

~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Forty Nine

2005-09-08T22:21:32Z

~~~~~~~~~~

It was a lovely thing, Hermione thought as she smiled down at the several small adolescents that she in charge of, to be able to show prospective pupils around the college. It was a glorious early summer afternoon and Hermione really couldn’t think of anything more pleasant to be doing.

“Right, let’s get this bloody business over with a.s.a.p., I’ve got a rugby match Terry’s convinced me to play in.”

Hermione, recognising the speakers voice, looked up quickly and groaned. “Oh no. No, no ,no. you’re kidding me. You’re actually kidding me. I have to show these people around with you as my partner, Zabini?”

“Now, now ‘Mione,” Blaise said amiably, and Hermione glared at him. Only Ron got away with calling her ‘Mione’. “Let’s try to be friendly eh? I mean, you seemed to like me well enough when you had your tongue shoved down my throat.”

“Blaise,” she hissed putting her hands on her hips and turning slightly away from the group of somewhat hyper 15 and 16 year olds. “These people have come to get a college tour; I highly doubt they want to hear about your complete lack of love life.”

“We saw you,” piped up the smallest of the visitors, who barely came up to Blaise’s shoulder.

“Excuse me?” Hermione said as politely as possible, turning back to face the girl.

“We saw him come into your maths class with a message when we were being shown round this morning. And you…” Hermione watched as the girl flushed a violent shade of pink and whispered the next two words. “You snogged.”

“Is ‘e your boyfriend then?” a tall gangly boy said with a wide grin which only slide off his face when Blaise glared at him.

“No he jolly well is not,” Hermione said quickly. “He’s a complete sleaze who thinks it is entirely appropriate to debauch innocent girls in the middle of their A level studies, when it is entirely not appropriate. You’ll find a lot of them at college.” Hermione turned back to the girl. “And the one’s you find that are nice will most probably be gay. “

“There’s gay’s at the college?” one boy asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes, one of my closest friends happens to be. And Zabini’s best friend is.”

“Well technically,” Blaise interrupted, “he’s ‘experimenting’.” Blaise made quotations marks with his fingers. “But really he’s been smitten with Finnigan ever since first year. “

“Really,” Hermione said, sounding interested. “I must tell Seamus. But anyway, this particular sleaze,” she made a small jerk over her shoulder, “is going to be dealt with and punished in due time.”

There were grins all round as Hermione finally lead them off on the tour. A couple visitors made whip motions and one even went as far as to mutter; “Owned.”

“Yeah and he’ll enjoy every minute of it,” Blaise said with a grin to the floor, setting off at the rear of the group.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Forty-Seven

2005-09-05T14:23:48Z

~~~~~~~~~~Theodore really hated cinemas. And he hated going to watch anything there even more. But mostly at this moment, walking up to Finnigan where he was standing outside the local Odeon, he hated a certain Blaise Zabini most of all.

“Holy shit what the hell happened to your hair?” Seamus said, raising his eyebrows.

“It made a bet with Blaise Zabini,” Theodore muttered sarcastically. He tugged on a strand of his purple hair and Seamus grinned. His hatred for Blaise went up a notch.

“Well at least it matches your eyes now,” Seamus said casually.

Theodore frowned. He always did hate his eye colour. “My eyes are hardly plum, Finnegan.”

“Nah, lilac’s more like it,” Seamus replied, staring unnervingly into Theo’s eyes. “Now are we going to go watch the film? I picked.”

“That’s a shame,” Theo muttered darkly. “What film is it?”

“They’re re-running something called ‘Dirty Dancing’?” Seamus said with a shrug, showing his tickets to the attendant. “Sounded vaguely like porn.”

Theodore groaned “You have no idea what you’ve just got us into do you, Finnegan?”

“Nope,” Seamus replied, grinning. “Oooooh look, sweets.”

Theodore though back to what Daphne had said. He might as well get a lay out of tonight. “My treat,” he said, taking his wallet out of his back pocket. “One packet of smarties, a large coke and some popcorn please.”

“Which popcorn would you like?”

“Salty,” said Theo, just as Seamus called out; “Sweet.” Theodore glared at him. Seamus glared back.

“Errr, just a suggestion,” the man serving said cautiously, “but how about you get toffee?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Theodore sense tonight would not go well. And he also sensed things could only get worse.

He was wrong. The attendant had only given them one straw in the coke. Theodore grinned. He liked the cinema.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Forty Six

2005-09-05T14:17:56Z

~~~~~~~~~~

Ron kicked a stone moodily along the side-walk and contemplated the disaster that had been today. He’d never liked Mondays. The stone rebounded off a wall and hit Ron’s shin. This did nothing to improve his mood.

Firstly, there had been the incident at the bands practise last night which ended up with Seamus winning the argument over who should sing “Photograph” by Def Leopard, as it was a new addition to their play list for ‘Dana’s’. Ron had wanted to sing it simply because, being her favourite song, it made Hermione melt into a puddle of pure girlyness, which was most unusual for her. Seamus’ argument was that he never got to sing. Ron had no idea how Seamus had won; normally he was very good at arguments, being the most stubborn of the Weasleys. Well actually, Ron knew full well it was because Seamus was a damn good singer, able to hold onto a note which took Ron several breaths to complete. Who knew Seamus’ mouth was good for anything other than sucking cock? Ron thought with a grin. He wondered if he was still the only one who knew, or if Nott had discovered the Irish boys greatest talent.

Ron sighed. He supposed they should think themselves lucky that Zabini wasn’t singing, else Hermione would’ve melted, evaporated, condensed and melted again several times amongst the performance and Ron didn’t like the idea that someone else could do that; not with the soft spot somewhere near his large intestine that Ron still had for Hermione. Fortunately, even with all his Italian heritage, Zabini sung like a male bullfrog in mating season.

Secondly, and weirdly, Malfoy had not been in college that day and Mondays were the days that he got to torment Ron the most. Ron had found himself increasingly worried and looking over his shoulder more and more. Or at least until his teacher had told him to stop gazing into space and concentrate instead upon his chromatic and pentatonic seventh scales.

Not that he missed Malfoy or anything. I mean, he enjoyed their random snogging/groping sessions but that’s all it was.

Ron sighed as he bent down to pick up the Resistant Materials textbook that he had dropped whilst lost in his thoughts. Someone approached behind him and sniggered.

“Weasley family habit now then is it, bending over?”

Ron groaned and turned to face the speaker. “Now now, Malfoy,” he replied in a polite tine of warning. “You should know by now that the Weasleys never make a habit of anything Malfoy like, and especially not family ones.”

“Touché, Weasley,” said Malfoy with the same forced politeness. “But shouldn’t little boys like you be at school?”

“I have to get some materials for my RM class this afternoon,” Ron snapped. “And shouldn’t little boys like you be joining us?”

“I’m busy today,” Malfoy replied airily. Ron opened his mouth. “And what I shall be doing is none of your business, Weasley.”

“I don’t see why not!” Ron said tersely. “Missing college for a whole day is serious. Surely you’re not ill?” Ron looked at Malfoy suspiciously, as if he was carrying something contagious.

“No I am not ill,” Malfoy said. “My mind and my health are still very much intact, which is more than can be said about you.”

Ron looked confused. “What do you mean by that, Malfoy, my health’s still perfectly-” He stopped and his expression changed from one of confusion to one of murderous anger. “You take that back this minute, Malfoy, or I’ll hex you.”

“Why should I?” Malfoy replied, his eyes narrowing. “You’re every bit as stupid as you look and believe me, that’s not a good thing.”

“Malfoy,” Ron growled, “if you don’t shut up right now I swear I’, going to curse your ferrety, annoying little arse-” “You forgot fine,” “-right the way to the other side of the world.”

“How exactly? You haven’t got a wand and I doubt you’d be clever enough to tell one end from the other if you had one.”

Ron’s face turned red. Then it turned purple. Then back to red. Ron ran at Malfoy and pushed him up against the nearest wall which, fortunately, belonged to a deserted back street.

“Let me go!” Malfoy yelled. “Get off of me!” He struggled hard and, managing to free one of his hands, hit Ron hard on the top of his head. Ron saw stars for several seconds before regaining his sense and pinning both of Malfoy’s hands above his head with one of his own bigger ones; the other coming down to the his mouth. Malfoy’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Not so cocky now I’m in charge are you, Malfoy?” Ron said, moving closer. “Holy shit, Malfoy, w-what’s that?”

Malfoy grinned and thrust his hips upwards sharply. “Seems like parts of me don’t mind you being in charge at all.”

Ron bit his lip as he felt certain parts of him stirring at Malfoy’s incessant thrusting. “Malfoy,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t play fair.”

“I never said I did.” Draco wrapped his legs around Ron’s waist. Ron groaned and began to inch the hand that wasn’t holding Draco’s hands still downwards.

“Jesus Weasley,” Draco panted.

“Ron.” Ron frowned, holing Draco’s hands tighter.

“Weasley.”

“Ferret.”

“Fine then, I’ll call you ferret,” Draco said obtusely. Ron stopped. “Oh fine then. Ron.”

As Ron’s hand slid past Draco’s belt, his cries became much louder. Having run out of hands, Ron crushed Draco’s in a vicious imitation of a kiss. Ron could taste blood and he didn’t know whether it was his or Draco’s and right now he really didn’t-

“What in the name of holy fuck?” came a voice from the left of the boys. Ron froze and reluctantly pulled his mouth away from Draco’s. He took in the shocked faces of Luna, Hermione and Ginny with a groan. A small part of his brain voiced the realisation that Ron still had his hand down Draco’s trousers. It was ignored.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Draco said hastily, glancing up at Ron.

“No Draco, fuck it!” Ron said. He was really fed up of today. “It’s exactly how it looks. I was, before you so rudely interrupted, just about to jerk Draco Malfoy off in a small back street of a Cornish fishing village. Anyone have a problem with that?”

Luna and Hermione stood speechless.. Ginny looked capable of murder. Obviously she a problem with it.

And just when Ron thought his day had been looking up.

~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Forty-Five

2005-09-05T14:13:24Z

~~~~~~~~~~

Ginny rolled her eyes as she accepted her lemonade off an overly excited, slightly drunk Lisa. Although Lisa had been a Ravenclaw, she was not sensible in the slightest. Mind you, looking around at her other friends, Lisa looked the most sensible. Honestly, you would’ve thought they had never seen two guys go on a date together.

“Are they dirty dancing together?” Ashlee gasped, wide-eyed.

“Yes they are,” Ginny replied. Ashlee made a strange squeaking noise.

“So which one is the blond one?” Laura asked, sipping her coke.

“Laura, they’re both blond,” Ginny ground out, fighting the temptation to bang her head on the table. “You mean the sandy-blond one or the creamy-blond one?”

“Oh, the sandy-blond one,” Laura replied airily, waving a hand vaguely.

“His name is Zach.”

“He’s hot.”

“Nuh uh,” Brittney disagreed, shaking her head. “The other one’s hotter. Ernie was his name?” Ginny nodded, wishing that she hadn’t agreed to be the one that stayed sober. “He has that kind of countrified ruggedness.”

Lisa leant in, her bright red hair clashing garishly with Ginny’s carrot coloured locks.

“When do you think they’ll remember both guys are gay?” Lisa whispered in her ear, giggling loudly. Ginny smiled.

“Oh, oh they’re getting coats and leaving!” Ashlee cried, jumping up and down in her seat.

Ginny groaned. She thought that arranging another date between Zach and Ernie was a great idea. What she hadn’t bargained on was four of her friends from her course, one witch and three muggles, inviting themselves along. She also didn’t reckon on them all being so taken on the boys. Okay, so they were pretty but Ginny hadn’t thought any of her friends went for the pretty boy type. But now obviously Ernie had ‘countrified ruggedness’ and Zach was just plain ‘hot’.

Ginny raised her head again to see the brunette head of Ashlee disappearing around the corner after the boys. She groaned and grabbed her bag, rushing after them, cursing all of them silently and viciously.

She eventually found them all huddled together, peering around the door at something. Ginny found herself staring too. Zach and Ernie were kissing. No wait, they weren’t just kissing, they were literally both fucking the other boys mouth with there tongues.

“Jesus,” Ginny breathed, catching the attention of the other three at last. “That’s almost… pornographic.”

“No almost about it,” Lisa whispered back, grinning. Brittney and Laura nodded. Ashlee, obviously beyond any type of human communication, continued staring, her mouth open.

Ginny turned back to stare and just caught sight of Zach’s tongue disappearing into Ernie’s mouth. She felt quite faint.

“Hey, no shoving!” Laura’s voice came from below. “I can’t see! Argh!”

Suddenly the entire column of girls collapsed, leaving all four of them sprawled at two very shocked looking boys feet. Ginny cringed inwardly. This was not good.

“Erm… hi guys,” she offered with a sheepish grin, picking herself up and reminding herself to pick her friends more carefully in the future.

“Hi,” Zach replied with a grin, before marching Ernie off in the opposite direction.

Ginny grinned when she saw that his hand was resting on Ernie’s arse.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Forty-Four

2005-09-05T14:09:17Z

~~~~~~~~~~

“Weasley,” Pansy yelled, sticking her head around the door. “Oi! Weasley!”

The guitars stopped, Blaise stopping several seconds later. “What the fuck d’ya want Parkinson?” Ron asked angrily. “We’re trying to practice here.”

“I thought Harry was supposed to be here,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes. The room absolutely reeked of testosterone. Oh how she hated that smell.

“Hey guys,” Theo said, rubbing at his hair. “Where is Harry?”

“He went next door with that Portuguese guy about an hour ago,” Seamus said, branding a long pointy stick at Pansy. “Now get out or I’ll disembowel you.”

“With a drumstick?” Pansy said scathingly, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Seamus waved the stick until it was about three millimetres away from Pansy’s nose. She lifted her hand up and brought the stick down sharply, grinning at his Seamus‘s wince of pain when it hit his thigh. “I’d watch your back if I were you Finnigan. Men who go round waving sticks at Parkinsons don’t usually live to wave them again.” The door slammed.

Pansy looked at the door next to Blaise’s flat. It didn’t look like the flat of Portuguese kidnappers, but you could never be too careful. She knocked on the door cautiously. It snapped open.

“Yes, can I help you?” the opener asked. Pansy nearly laughed out loud. It was a short blond woman. She can’t have kidnapped Harry. But she was a short blond pretty woman. Which raised the terrifying thought that Harry had gone in voluntarily.

“I’m here to see Harry Potter,” Pansy replied coldly and heard a groan from behind the woman, showing that Harry was indeed there.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said politely, smiling at Pansy. Pansy nearly threw up. Obviously she was one of those simpering, sickly sweet women, no girls, that Pansy couldn’t stand. “but I don’t really see what it has to do with you.”

“Oh believe me Blondie,” Pansy growled, pushing past the girl into her flat, “it has everything to do with me.”

Harry’s eyes widened as Pansy entered the room. She seemed to give out an aura of absolute curiosity. He winced. This wasn’t going to be good.

“Now,” Pansy began, a forced smile settling on her face. “Will you please tell me what the fuck he,” she pointed at Harry, “is doing in this dump.”

“Excuse me,” the woman began, finally indignant. “This is my flat and if-”

“I asked you a question,” Pansy interrupted with a wave of her hand. “That means I would like an answer now.”

“We were having a quiet drink,” the blond woman said, narrowing her eyes. Pansy snorted. As if someone that short and simpering could be a threat to Pansy. “Or at least we were, until you interrupted so rudely.”

“As in a date?”

“Yes as in a date!” Blondie replied angrily, waving her hands around. “Now if you do not get out now I will-”

Pansy laughed and made a lunge for the girl, grabbing her by her long hair and causing Harry to gasp. Pretty Pansy’s arse. “Now you listen to me sweetheart,” she growled in her ear, tugging on her hair. She shivered. “You go near him again and I will make sure you can‘t go near any other guy. I don’t know if he’s told you, but that pathetic scrawny looking guy sat cowering in the corner is mine. God knows why I want him, but I do. You get your pretty pink claws into him and I’ll scratch you up. And believe me, my claws are much sharper and longer because they have got a lot more use. Understand darling?” The girl nodded. “Good.” Pansy released her hair and she scrambled over to the other side of the room. “My name’s Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. You might want to remember it, although most people only know me as the biggest bitch this side of the country. They don’t say much any more.” The woman swallowed. “And as for you,” Pansy continued, turning to Harry, who shifted back. “You are coming with me.”

She marched over to where Harry was sitting and yanked him up by his hair. She tugged him across the room and turned just before she shut the door. She smiled sweetly at the girl now collapsed on her sofa and said politely; “Thank you for your hospitality. I won’t be seeing you.”

Pansy Parkinson was on a roll and woe betide anyone who got in her way.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Six

2005-08-16T19:17:29Z

~~~~~~~~~~

“Paaansyyy, why are we here?” Good god I hate this woman. Girl. Whatever. She’s only gone and led us to the most rubbish bar in the whole town. You can’t even drink unless you smuggle your own in somehow. Rock music blares out from the door. Eurgh. “What was wrong with our usual Saturday night venue?”

“You know full well that it’s being refurbished,” Pansy snaps. “And if you don’t shut up whining, I won’t let you have any of the alcohol I’ve got with me.”

“You’re a cold-hearted bitch Parkinson.” She nods her thanks. “I know for a fact the only reason you’re here is to see Potter.” She doesn’t even looked pissed. Damn, taking the piss about her infatuation with Potter usually works. Now she’s only smiling scarily. I don’t like that smile. I don’t fucking like it at all.

“We know each other far too well Draco dearest.”

What the hell is she going on about? I roll my eyes as she drags me down the steps into the smoky club. Hmm, the band doesn’t seem that bad from down here. Unusually, the lead singer’s pretty good. Damn good in fact. I wonder who he… fucking Christ on a bicycle is that…

“Pansy, is that Weasley up there?” She nods. “And is he singing, and mores the point singing well?” She nods again. “And have I gone completely mad, or is he wearing a t-shirt that says ‘Blonds may have fun but Redheads rock’?” She nods again. “You evil cow. You evil, sadistic son, err, daughter of a bitch.”

“Gorgeous isn’t he?” I recognise that smile now. It’s her sadistic one. “In a completely rugged, uncivilised way of course. I told you I knew you too well.”

“Pansy, did I, or did I not, tell you straight after my fit of drunken stupidity, never to mention this ever again?”

“You did. Oh come on Draco, lighten up, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? No big deal? It’s completely inappropriate! Not only is he poor as shit, completely uncivilised and hates my guts, but he’s a Weasley!”

“And a boy,” she points out. “You forgot that he’s a boy.”

“That,” I mutter darkly, “is the least of my problems right now.”

“You’re so cute when you panic, do you know that Draco? Oooh look, there’s Eloise. Heya Lou!”

Oh dear god, this night is not going to go well. At all.

~~~~~~~~~~