Draco wondered why the school was always drafty. One could walk down a hallway one knew contained no windows, and yet cold air would still whip wildly at one's face. Draco felt like getting lost that night. He felt like wandering aimlessly until by some odd chance he ended up back in the Slytherin common room. He took a left at the suit of armor and walked up a staircase he’d never taken before.

As though footsteps were echoing in his mind, Draco began to hear something coming down the stairs toward him. The Slytherin knew better that to mess with Filch and leapt behind the nearest tapestry. He listened intently behind the thick fabric, listening as the footsteps clunked down the stairs. His breath catching in his throat, Draco peered out from behind the curtain. Amazingly, no one was there. Yet her was positive there was a considerable thud going down the stairs. ‘Potter,’ he thought. ‘Stupid, fucking invisibility cloak. Thinks he’s so clever.’ Draco had discovered Potter’s cloak one night when he had taken one of his routine walks around the school. Potter wasn’t very careful with it, he had slid the cloak off his head to get a drink from the school water fountain. He hadn’t even checked to see if anyone was around.

Silently, Draco crept out from behind the curtain and stepped out on the steps. Not a sound was made as he walked down the stairs. He put his arms out in front of him and began to grope at the air. Then as if by some divine force he stepped on the invisible fabric. Magically a bright red head appeared in front of him, dancing by itself in the night.

***

~~~Ron~~~

He couldn’t believe it. What could have triggered all of this? One minute he’s desperately wanting Fleur, the next Hermione, and now, now… Malfoy. He wanted to puke just thinking about it. One morning he just woke up, and Malfoy was in all his thoughts. Everything was about him. And for once it wasn’t just hatred. Oh God, what was he going to do?

Today had been awful. Not only was it impossible to hide his feelings from Harry and Hermione, it seemed Malfoy had noticed them, too. When he ran into the boy that afternoon he thought he’d die right there. He wanted to kill him, but that wasn’t the only feeling present. The typical reaction would have been "punch on sight," but the second Ron touched him he’d have been in way over his head. What would have happened if Ron grabbed the unsuspecting Slytherin for a kiss? It would probably wipe that sneer off his pale pointed face. Although, that was a significant part of the attraction. Oh god! What was he talking about?

There was a sharp pain in his stomach. Was he developing an ulcer? Oh, no, wait, he was just hungry. He wondered briefly if Harry would mind if Ron borrowed the invisibility cloak. This was an emergency, he was a growing boy, and he needed food. He walked quietly to the foot of Harry’s bed and pulled out the familiar fabric of the cloak. He wrapped it tightly around himself, and walked out the door. He quietly padded towards the opening of the Gryffindor common room and began to walk down the hall. Curse his large feet for making so much noise. Shame he hadn’t picked up the Marauder’s Map too. He thudded down the long staircase trying to distract his rumbling stomach by thoughts of Malfoy. Brrr. It was cold in these halls. His head was beginning to feel uncommonly cold. Ron turned slowly behind him. He nearly passed out when he saw the smirking face of Draco Malfoy staring back at him. "Malfoy!?"

"Weasel. Just what are you doing here? And," he added with a smug smile, "wearing an invisibility cloak. Which of your fire-haired, Muggle-loving siblings did you have to sell to afford that?"

"Fuck off Malfoy," Ron replied, afraid that if he said too much he might not be able to stop himself.

"Oh, Weasley. You’re so predictable," Draco said, eyes squinted into deadly slits. He began to inch closer to Ron. Their eyes were level only because Draco was a step higher than Ron was.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Ron repeated through gritted teeth.

"No," Draco replied, simply getting even closer to Ron. Ron tried desperately hard not to shudder as the Slytherin kept inching closer and closer. He couldn’t fight this much longer. And why was Malfoy inching forward like that? Did he want him too? Was it time to show that Gryffindor courage and make a move? They were inches away from each other as it was, and Ron’s heart rate was steadily increasing with each breath. He couldn’t help himself any longer. Ron was a creature of impulse; too much thinking would spoil this. Ron placed his hot lips against Malfoy’s and pressed into the pale boy.

Immediately Malfoy’s body tensed, as the Slytherin drew hastily away.

"What the fuck are you doing Weasley?!" Malfoy spat on the floor, looking horrified. Oh shit, this wasn’t the reaction Ron was hoping for. "I’m not a fucking queer! I can’t believe you. You’re sick! Fuck, Weasley, I knew you were fucked up, but… How could you do such a disgusting thing? Fucking pervert!" The enraged Slytherin was inching backwards, as though Ron was the Black Plague.

"I- I…" Ron stammered. How was he going to fix this situation? He’d messed it all up now. Malfoy was going to tell everyone. He was going to humiliate him in front of the entire school.

"Don’t tell fucking anyone Weasel. I don’t want anyone to know you practically raped me!"

"I didn’t rape you," Ron finally managed to say.

"Don’t talk to me. You’re sick. I would say you’re going to pay for my therapy, but I forgot who I was talking to. Don’t so much as look at me, Weasley; if you do, you’ll fucking regret it." And with that, Draco practically leapt back down the stairs.

‘Oh, shit,’ Ron thought as he slumped down onto the step, and wrapped the invisibility cloak around himself. This had to be the worst day of his life.