Detention in the Dungeons Weasley

By messers KitsuneKaino & MmerryDdeath

We solemnly swear that we do not own the Harry Potter Series by J. K. Rowling and would also like to insist that this is completely a fan made project intended to amuse other fans of the series. No harm is intended, and we would like to assure our readers that not a particularly great deal of hexes have been placed on this fan fiction.

We do, however, have to warn them that there are GRAPHIC SLASH(a.k.a yaoi, male-on-male) BASED LEMONS situated within this work, as well as sexual acts that are not as consensual as they should be. You have been warned. Flamers will find themselves hanging by their underpants in the Great Hall. Constructive criticism and sycophantic praise welcomed.

Mischief managed.

The door of the potions classroom slammed open against the stone wall. A figure in the painting the door had hit screeched indignantly at the furious boy storming from the room in a heated rage.


He screamed at the painting, as he continued his rampage along the hall, the apology was sincere but he could no longer control his voice. His face was as red as his hair in the heat of his distemperment. Ronald Weasley was pissed for one reason, and one reason alone.


He snarled under his breath, slamming his fist against the wall as he viciously sought fresh air.

Draco, who had also left the potions lesson, safe in the knowledge that he was Professor Snape's favourite student, leant against the wall several feet away from Ron. He was smirking, the outlines of a rather nasty plot hatching in his mind. Ron might be a prefect, but Draco was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, and he intended to abuse that power just as much as he could.

Ron screamed at the floor stomping his foot against it as hard as he possibly could, imagining it was Draco's smug little greasy face.


He buried his face into his hands in utter defeat sliding down the wall. How dare he, how dare that smug bastard make a comment about Hermione like that, and how dare that slimy thing that dare call himself a teacher let him.

"Making unnecessary noise in the corridor, that's what... Fifty points from Gryffindor."

The smirk on Draco's face widened slightly as he sauntered closer to the slumped redhead. He was now standing over Ron, content knowing that, at this moment, he held all the cards. Absentmindedly, he kicked the Weasley boy on the leg.

Ron looked up startled as Draco spoke. He glared daggers at the blond his chin tilting upwards as the Slytherin neared him, if only looks could kill. He looked away again, he couldn't even look at him he was so angry, just keep your temper Ron, he's not worth even standing up for, he's a rat, a horrible greasy, serpentine-


His attention snapped back to the blond in barely contained distaste.

Draco grinned outright, enjoying the obvious look of distaste on Ron's face along with the fact that he could do absolutely nothing about it. He lounged against the dungeon wall, basking in his power.

"Of course, you realise you're almost as bad as the mudblood, right? In fact, you could say Blood traitors are worse. Sometimes I don't believe the filth they let in here."

Draco was purposefully needling Ron, waiting for a reaction and feigning an air of nonchalance. He watched the Weasley's face.

The redhead's hands clenched into fists as he rose to his feet quaking with rage, his fingernails dug painfully into his palms. His face scowled darkly at the other prefect, eyes clouded with hatred. He was so angry he couldn't speak. In light of this dilemma the Gryffindor lunged at his enemy grabbing fistfuls of his robes and slammed him against the wall he was leaning against. He was seriously contemplating strangling him right there.

"Don't you EVER talk about them like that..."

He growled, freckled nose wrinkled in disgust, because he was touching the evil cockroach.

Draco grinned right into the redhead's face, despite the fact that his feet were almost leaving the floor and the wall was digging into his back.

"Physical assault. That's another hundred points from Gryffindor and a detention. I could keep this up all day, Weasley."

Draco yanked himself (almost unwillingly) out of Ron's grip.

"I'll see you in the dungeons at eight o clock sharp."

Draco started walking away from the furious boy. He turned back; "I'd advise you not to be late" He smirked, and walked on, his grin growing ever bigger.

From that moment an aura of blood curdling destruction billowed around the Weasley. People were actually avoiding him in the corridors. He glanced at the clock, 7:55. He stood to leave the common room growling obscenities under his breath, remembering Draco's warning and not wanting to lose his house any more points. A hand fell on his shoulder and he turned to look into the familiar green eyes of his friend.

"Hiya Harry..."

He mumbled in a more subdued tone. Harry gave him a comforting smile.

"You sure you're gonna be okay...? We can always transmogrify him into a ferret from under the cloak"

He grinned and Ron grinned back imagining it with glee.

"Thanks Harry I needed that mental image"

He laughed before exiting through the Fat Lady's portrait heading briskly towards and into the dungeons; it was the quickest walk of his life simply because he didn't want to be there so desperately. Trapped in a room with...Malfoy.

Draco was floating random bits of paper around the room while he waited for Ron to arrive and put the finishing touches to his plan... He just had to hope it worked. Much as he hated to admit it, Ron would probably smash him in a fight, so he was relying on that age-old friend of the Malfoy's: Blackmail. The door slammed open with less than a minute to spare, and Draco subtly destroyed the flying papers before Ron saw them. He looked at the other boy, a carefully manufactured sneer gracing his lips.

"You were nearly late."

He said.