A Massage to Remember

Disclaimer: For entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is met.

A/N: this is my first fanfic but since I so love reading all of yours I just had to try my hand at it. This is more of a short story in short chapters.just because I like naming chapters.(

Chapter 1: Oy! The pain

"Urggghhh!"

Ron Weasley shifted uncomfortably on his bed as another jab of pain shot through his sore back and up through his aching shoulders muscles. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth as he tried for what seem like the millionth time that night to find a position that didn't make his muscles feel like they were on fire. He tangled in his bed sheets shifting his weight onto his left side. Big mistake.

"Oww! Oww! Ahhhhh!"

Ron threw out a few more random curse words as another bolt of pain shot through his left shoulder. He jolted upright in bed, his long legs dangling over the edge and big feet making contact with the cold stone floor. He stayed still for a moment attempting to ease the pain, resting his forehead in his hand. After a few minutes he looked up. He snorted inwardly as he regarded his sleeping roommates. Any one of them could have easily slept through one of Neville's mammoth potion explosions.even Neville himself, so he was reasonably certain his agony-induced curses had gone unnoticed.

He sighed enviously. Truth be known, he was as hard a sleeper as anyone. It was a useful trait when your childhood bedroom was next door to crazy twin brothers who were constantly blowing things up, a mother whose voice could at times be quite shrill and a ghoul in the attic who never tired of rattling around. Yes, normally he would have been out like a light. But not tonight.

Ron cautiously pulled his nightshirt over his head and let it fall to the ground. He reached a lanky arm over his bare back, attempting to rub the spot that seemed to be giving him the most trouble. Unfortunately, the area was just out of his reach, and the action only caused him to wince. He heard Madame's Pomfrey's voice in his head.

"Honestly, I don't understand why you and Mr. Malfoy cannot just leave each other alone. You're both 6th year prefects and yet you act like children. You ought to be setting an example for the younger students. Well perhaps this will finally teach you both a lesson. I've done all I can for you. I'm afraid you're just going to have to grin and bear it. At any rate, you should feel better in the morning."

Ron snorted. He was certainly not grinning now and morning seemed like years away. Madame Pomfrey was right of course. He had let his temper get the best of him and now he was paying for it. But god, how he despised Malfoy. That evil git. He deserved whatever he got. He thought back on the day's events with a mixture of emotions.

It had started so well. Gryfindor had won the quidditch cup! They had beat Slytherin. No, more correctly, they had kicked Slytherin's slimy arses all over the place. It had been an excellent match and all of Gryfindor had run out to greet their players. This of course included Hermione running towards Harry and himself, greeting them both with large hugs and Ron had even gotten a kiss on his cheek, something that had not gone unnoticed by him.or by bloody Malfoy.

"Awww. Isn't that nice. Weasel has his very own mudblood to play with. Don't feel too special, I hear those mudbloods are right dirty little tramps, give it up for anyone who wants it.ESPECIALLY Granger."

It was a stupid, cruel and untrue thing to say. In other words, totally Malfoy. Ron knew that with all the commotion probably only a handful of people heard it anyway, and nobody paid much attention to what Malfoy said besides his Slytherin flunkies. But he also knew that Hermione heard it and he had most certainly heard it.

It had taken less then a second for his temper to flare, and not much longer to pull out his wand and point it directly at Malfoy. He could hear Hermione's voice pleading with him to just ignore the prat even as he spoke the words that produced the bolt of magic that flew from his wand. He had watched it hit Malfoy directly in the chest. Unfortunately, that was all he had seen as a bolt of magic flew out of Malfoy's wand even as he was falling to the ground. Ron tried to use a defensive move but there wasn't enough time and Malfoy's spell had hit square in the back.

"Ugggghhhh."

The memory alone seemed to make the pain flare up again and he shifted uncomfortably. So this is where his childish actions had landed him. Instead of celebrating with his fellow Gryfindors he had spent the time in the hospital wing. Malfoy had hit him with a particularly powerful paralysis spell that had seemed to twist all the muscles in his upper body into knots. Madame Pomfrey had managed to alleviate the paralysis, but there was nothing that could be done about the enduring pain, except to simply endure it.

He took a small amount of comfort in the fact that he had hit Malfoy with a particularly powerful slug spell. Yes, it was the same spell that had backfired on him during 2nd year, but lets just say he had enhanced it since then. He took a sort of sick pleasure in knowing that Malfoy was probably at this very moment still expelling slugs. Really big, extra- slimy, long-lasting slugs.expelling from.well.both ends. Oh yes, Hermione was not the only one who could improve a spell.

A loud Neville-sounding snore brought him out of his thoughts. There really wasn't any point in trying to sleep tonight. He stood up slowly, relieved to find his lower body experiencing only normal after-intense- quidditch stiffness. He carefully pulled his orange night robe over his shoulders. He decided to head down to the common room to get his mind on something besides the pain he was feeling and the sleep he was not getting. Perhaps he could scrounge up a piece of celebratory cake he had missed out on.