It was a fine fall afternoon at Hogwarts. The fire in the Gryffindor common room crackled and danced, throwing cheerful orange light over the room, which was almost empty, an unusual enough occurrence, especially considering that the few students left in Gryffindor Tower were all males. And not so unusual in that all the females had been regularly disappearing every Thursday after classes were over since the year started.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley pondered these facts as they studied hard for their next days subject. Okay, so they were playing a game of chess. That counted as an exercise in logic, right?
Neville sat in an armchair near them, watching silently.

"I just don't understand it." Neville was saying, scratching his adorable head. "Where've they gone off to?"

Ron snorted. "Probably off holding a support group for Moaning Myrtle down in the girl's second floor bathroom. If you're so worried about it, go look for them." he moved a pawn forward.

Neville rose determinedly. "I think I will."

Easier said than done. Neville roamed the castle and grounds, checking the areas they would likely be. They were not out having a picnic by the lake. Hermione was not raising hell for the house elves down in the kitchens. Parvati and Lavender were not fawning over Professer Trelawney. The Room of Requirement wouldn't open-someone was in there.

On his way back to Gryffindor Tower, dejected, he neared the second floor and decided to give it a shot, Ron's derision be damned. He lacked the distaste for Moaning Myrtle many Hogwarts Students had.

Glancing around to make sure no one was in sight, he ducked into the girl's bathroom. The dark gloom hit his eyes, shadowy reflections of himself moving in the mirror. To his surprise Myrtle was neither sniffling, wailing, or moaning.

She was giggling merrily, perched on the farthest sink. As far as Neville could tell, she was the only one in the room. Disappointed, he turned around to leave when in object in her hand caught his eye. Myrtle was holding a piece of parchment, with a rather detailed picture sketched and colored on it. He craned forward to get a better look and flinched, blushing, at what he saw.

Just Harry and Ron. Stark naked and kissing, among other things. He stepped forward and spluttered "What the bloody hell is that!?"

Myrtle jumped about three feet in the air and shrieked, dropping the drawing. Neville picked it up.

"Give that back! It's mine!" she wailed.

"Luna Lovegood-Hogwarts Slash Club" Neville read. He looked up. "So Luna drew this?" he asked disbelievingly. "And what the hell is the Slash Club?"

Myrtle sniffed. "None of your business."

"I think it is! If people saw this laying around, they might think-"

"What? That Harry and Ron loooooove each other?" Myrtle asked, grinning devilishly.

"You're crazy. I have to show Harry and Ron this." he said, running out of the bathroom and sprinting furiously toward Gryffindor Tower. Unfortunately, he didn't think to tuck it into his robes.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were, to say the least, loitering. And bored. Couldn't forget that. For the past two years Malfoy had been, in between annoying Potter and the Gryffindors, been rather occupied in trying to get in Pansy Parkinson's robes. While most would have thought that the simplest tasks, as Pansy utterly adored, worshiped, and probably sacrificed animals to Draco Malfoy. Most were mistaken. Pansy's ultimate and unwavering desire was to marry Draco Malfoy-and the old adage that one wouldn't buy the cow if they could get the milk for free was a common one in the wizarding world as well as the muggle one. He'd never done more than kiss her.

That said, she was conspicuously absent this fine fall day. As she had been last Thursday. And the Thursday before that. No serious problem, except that all the fine female company in Hogwarts was gone, including Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and, God forbid if he ever sunk so low-Hufflepuffs.

So what was left to do but idly walk the halls, waiting for an unsuspecting Gryffindor to terrorize? Potty and Weasel would have done best, but they were probably off humping that mudblood in the Gryffindor common room.

Those were Draco's thoughts when he was rather rudely and suddenly slammed into, and knocked to the ground. What idiotic fool should bounce off him but Longbottom? Neville landed flat on his back, sheets of parchment sent fluttering. While Crabbe was solicitously helping Malfoy to his feet, Goyle's hand shot out surprisingly deftly and snatched the paper. His jaw dropped, and he began to guffaw.

A frazzled Draco adjusted his robes. "What are you laughing at, you great oaf?" he said, and peered over at the parchment.

A delighted gasp escaped his mouth. He turned to Neville, who'd just begun to draw himself up off the floor. Draco grinned. "Idiotic, bumbling prat that you are, I would never have expected such disgusting depravity from you, Longbottom. Wait till this gets out!" he crowed. Goyle tapped his shoulder "And it won't look good for Potter-" Goyle tapped more insistently.

"What is it?" he snapped, turning around angrily.

Goyle held up the drawing that was behind the Ron and Harry one. Draco looked. His eyes widened and his mouth trembled. He covered it with a shaking hand. First he flushed red. Then white. Then red again. Then he screamed in utter fury and leapt on top of Neville, knocking him to the ground.

"I'LL KILL YOU YOU SICK BASTARD!" he yelled, slugging poor Neville in the face. Crabbe and Goyle looked on appreciatively.

Only seconds passed before a teacher heard the commotion and came running. Professor McGonagall tore a kicking, shouting Malfoy off of Neville.

"What is this meaning of this!?" she yelled.

Poor Malfoy. "I-I-I" he spluttered, still a deep shade of red, and knocked utterly senseless by the sight Goyle had presented to him.

"Here, Professor." Goyle said, and handed her the picture.

It depicted an ecstatic looking Draco nibbling on Harry Potter's groin. The setting was, fittingly enough, the Gryffindor breakfast table. The picture had the same effect on Minerva McGonagall as it did Malfoy, albeit before the screaming and fury set in.

"That bastards been drawing n-naked pictures of me!" Draco shouted, finally regaining his voice. He pointed wildly at Neville for good affect.

Professor McGonagall gave him a severe look. "While it's reasonable to be upset over such at thing, this picture was clearly drawn by Pansy Parkinson." she replied, tapping the loopy signature in the bottom corner.

"Longbottom, are you alright?" she inquired.

A dazed Neville nodded. Blood dripped from his nose. His lip was cut and swollen. Other minor injuries abounded.

"Run along to the infirmary then. And not a word of this to anyone." she told him.

He shuffled slowly down the hallway. Once he was out of earshot, McGonagall turned back to Malfoy, who was still trembling with rage.

"I'll forgoe punishing you, given the... circumstances." she told him, gazing distractedly at the picture she held. She shuffled through what was obviously a stack of several drawings-how Neville hadn't noticed that could only be chalked up to his dimwittedness, she thought.

"Oh my." she said, seeing the next one, a work of Hermione Granger.

"Professor!" whined a scandalized Draco.

"Oh! Uh...have no fear. I'll be investigating this "Slash Club", no doubt about it. I'll get back to you." she told him. "Now run along before I change my mind about punishing you."

The boys quickly headed off towards Slytherin Tower.

"And not a word to anyone!" McGonagall called after them.

She tucked the picture into a pouch around her neck. Yes, she'd definitely be investigating this "Hogwarts Slash Club".

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Love it? Hate it? Vomited at the sight of it? Either way, you've likely not seen the end of the Hogwarts Slash Club. So please review if it's not too much trouble!

Also, I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.