Author: Bell Pie toggledog@yahoo.com

Rating: PG13-mild sexual slashy situations and innuendo

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

Author’s Notes: Hey, review. Tell me what you think.
 
 

Draco stepped curtly to the side to allow Ron and Hermione inside. Both instantly rushed to be in front of one of the five blazing wood fires in the over-furnished lounge room. Harry stood by one of three red leather rocking chairs, swinging madly by themselves and laughing merrily. Over his robes he wore jeans, a thick woolen coat and a bright yellow scarf sporting the emblem of the Quidditch team he was rooting for, the Greenland Blazers. His hands were placed firmly on his hips and he was glaring at the silver blonde young man.

"Apologize to Ron right now."

Draco’s mouth pulled down in a sulk. He and Harry caught eyes a moment longer, before he relented and turned to Ron.

"Sorry."

He did not sound as though he meant it.

"Damn you, Draco. I asked you. Just this once…"

Draco faced the ground, cheeks colouring a soft pink, looking like a chastened child.

"Ron, Hermione." The anger seemed to deflate from Harry’s emerald eyes upon seeing his friends. He engulfed both in a fierce hug. Ron noted Draco scowling behind them.

"Congratulations."

"Harry." Hermione said, as they released. "You already told us that, in your letter."

"And we figured from the biscuits you sent us." Ron’s smile upon seeing his best friend grew wider.

"Well, I wanted to tell you in person."

"Don’t you think twenty is a bit young to be engaged?" Draco sulked behind them. "One of you will grow bored with the other within the year. I’ll bet my gold-plated life sized wizard’s chess board on it."

All three turned to face him.

"I don’t care about you, Malfoy. But Hermione and I love each other."

It slipped out before Ron realized what he’d said. Hermione pinched his hand, but it was too late. Harry looked to the red spotted carpet, face flushing a little.

"Personally, I can’t see how a scrap of parchment can prove two people love each other." Draco’s upper lip curled slightly. "What next, I chisel out a piece of brick and give it to Sirius Black to prove I respect him? Or I bake cookies and give them to your father to prove I think he’s a total prat?"

There was silence a few moments. Both Hermione and Ron were reeling over Malfoy’s admission about Sirius. Draco broke it by striding across to Harry and gently picking a piece of fluff from out of his hair. He allowed his fingers to linger a moment, the scowl removed from his face and replaced with a faint, genuine smile. Hermione looked touched by the simple gesture. Ron wanted to grab the nearest chair and hurl it at Malfoy.

Draco abruptly turned and walked out of the room.

"Now where’s he going?" Ron moaned.

"To get ready." Harry planted himself on a red cushioned lounge chair, which sighed with him as he seeped down into it. The rocking chairs rocked harder, the laughter growing to an almost unbearable high pitch, before Harry silenced them with a glance.

"Great. Now we have to wait for that git."

"There’s plenty of time." Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I don’t understand it." Ron said. "Why doesn’t he say anything to you?"

"He’s mean to you because he knows he can get to you. Just don’t let him." The girl suggested.

"I’m sorry, Ron." Harry sighed.

"No offense, Harry, but-"

"I know what you’re going to say, so don’t bother. The thing is," Harry sat up in the chair with some difficulty. "He’s different when you’re not around."

Ron snorted.

"Can I ask something, Harry?" Hermione looked at him, earnestly. "The stag-car in the garage. Where did it come from?"

Harry’s lips tilted up a little, his eyes becoming more virulent green. "It was a twentieth birthday present from Draco."

Ron felt a jab of jealousy cut straight through him. He had bought Harry a set of constantly refillable scotch glasses.

Bloody Malfoy. Has to outdo everyone.

Draco came bounding out of the hall, wearing dark navy robes that both offset and complimented his pale looks. He was shrugging on a heavy long black over-cloak. Ron looked down at his own tattered green robes under his muggle clothes and reached in to pull at the red sash tying the waist, so the knot was to the front. Hermione squeezed his hand affectionately. Draco stepped up to Harry and kissed him on the lips.

"It’s satin. Feel it."

Harry placed his hand on Draco’s chest, briefly.

"No, feel it there." He snatched Harry’s hand and moved it down.

Ron’s complexion outdid his hair. Harry simply shook his hand free.

"Not now, my little dragon." He soothed Draco’s scowl with a loud kiss to his pointed chin before turning to the others.

"We’d better go."

tbc…