Disclaimer: Even though I've been really, really good this year, my wishes haven't come true and I don't own any of them. The characters and situations are created and owned by JK Rowling and her merry cohort of publishers. Oh, and Warner Bro's. No money is being made (shame, i'm completely skint)and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: Slashy goodness and excessive use of the F-word. No explicit sexual content though (just some innuendo's and implications), there's something wrong with me today.
Authors note: This is what happens when I give myself study time to do an assignment. And for once I decided to not leave this little piece of merriment in computery oblivion on my desktop and am sharing with you all. See, told you I was being good this year. Not beta'd, and probably full of mistakes but hey ho. My motivation only gets me so far.
Oh, shut up
It was quiet and peaceful in the Gryffindor common room. Its occupants were taking some well earned free time to lounge about in the comfortable chairs, feeling content in the warm sun that was pouring in through the open windows. Many people were asleep or dozing quietly in armchairs with books forgotten on their laps, or card games abandoned on the tables between them. Some were just content with watching the swirls of dust that floated lazily through the air, clearly visible in the bright sunlight.
Hermione Granger was taking advantage of the unusually quiet common room to try and get some work done. She would have bet a pocketful of Galleons that she could have stood up topless in the common room right now and no-one would have even noticed. Well, except Ron, who seemed to have some sort of built-in sonar in his brain which told him when such events were occurring.
She paused in her laborious translating work and gave him a fond look, coupled with a shake of her head. He was doing a fabulous demonstration of just how good the Gryffindor armchairs were for sleeping in; sprawled in a squashy crimson chair next to her with his long legs dangling over the cushioned arm, his mouth hanging slightly open as he snored.
Suddenly, there came the sound of a shout from the corridor outside the portrait hole. Hermione's quill paused mid-word and a few students looked up wearily for a moment, but after a beat in which no other disturbances made themselves known, they made to go back into their stupors.
Hermione's quill had barely touched the parchment once more when an answering shout came even louder, followed by another and another, making more students look up and straighten themselves in their chairs. Several gave each other nervous glances as the muffled yelling and cursing grew even louder, loud enough to rouse Ron from his slumber.
"What's going on?" he asked tiredly, rubbing his face as he swung his legs around.
"Wait- wait!" Hermione held out her hand and called out to a fourth year who was either very brave or very daft and was going to see what the commotion was all about. Her brow furrowed and the rest of the common room waited with baited breath to see what she would say.
"Ron, does that sound like Harry?"
Half an hour earlier.
"Hermione, can I talk to you?"
Hermione glanced up from the book she was poring over to see Harry had sat next to her on the sofa and was looking agitated, pulling at the frayed denim on the knee of his jeans.
"Yeah sure," she said, sighing at the book in front of her. "Don't mind me, I'm just trying to translate from this awful book that for some reason decides every now and again to continue in Latin. For Gods sake no-one even speaks Latin anymore…Sorry Harry, what did you want?"
She saw Harry give a grin at her rant but then his face quickly turned serious again. So serious that Hermione deigned to shut the book and give him her full attention, even going as far as putting her quill down. He glanced over her shoulder at Ron who was still snoring away in his armchair, and didn't say anything else.
"Harry?" Hermione began patiently.
"Yes?" he asked, not looking at her.
"He's dead out and has been for a good hour. He won't hear a thing as long as you're not shouting."
"Oh. Right," Harry said, suddenly looking flustered. "Well…the thing is…"
Hermione reached and gently touched his knee to still his leg that had been restlessly jumping as he tried to speak. If she were to be completely honest, she had been waiting for a conversation along these lines for quite some time; since Harry had suddenly and inexplicably broken things off with Ginny. What she hadn't expected was for Harry to be so blatantly nervous about finally explaining his actions. It must have been…nearly five months ago? She'd almost given up of dragging any reasoning from the stubborn boy, but now it seemed her patience was about to be rewarded.
He breathed out deeply, running his hands through his hair. Hermione winced slightly, wondering if there was anyway she could persuade him to actually try brushing it.
"Right," he began, looking more determined. "Right- well the thing is, I-"
He broke off, looking startled. He opened his mouth again but no words came out.
"The things is-"
Shaking his head violently he began again, only to get mid-way through a sentence and stop.
"I wanted to tell you about-"
"Harry?" Hermione asked, now a little puzzled.
Harry waved her off, starting to look incredulous. "My name is Harry Potter and I-"
Again he was cut off mid sentence. Comprehension slowly dawned over his face and he stood up sharply, making his way to the portrait hole.
"What a bastard!"
Hermione was left staring after him for a few long moments, wondering what had just happened. She sighed, and then shrugged, turning to resume her work with the book again.
Back to the present
Ron paused, listening to the shouting that was still getting steadily louder, words almost discernable. Whoever it was must have been right outside the entrance to Gryffindor tower.
"Yeah, it is," he said worriedly, standing up. "I wonder what-"
It was Ron's turn to be cut off mid-sentence as the portrait hole flew open and Harry climbed through, looking furious and dragging an equally livid looking Draco Malfoy with him by the front of his shirt.
"Potter, let go!" Malfoy shouted, trying to extricate his shirt from Harry's grip as the Gryffindor dragged him across the room towards Ron and Hermione, who were both looking flabbergasted.
Hermione had no idea what was going on. She knew Draco and Harry had formed a truce since returning to school for eighth year, and she had to admit things worked better that way. Harry was more relaxed, Draco was almost bearable company in classes and the fighting had stopped. Until now, it seemed.
"I swear to Merlin I will curse you-" Draco managed to stop the pair in their tracks, leaning back and digging his heels into the carpet.
"What? Again?" Harry fumed, panting with the exertion of pulling a very unwilling Slytherin across the common room. Harry didn't even seem to notice the sea of faces all looking at them with stunned expressions, some of them whispering furiously behind their hands; he was too busy trying to kick Draco in the shins.
Hermione stood up and tentatively raised her wand, wondering if she should just body-bind the pair of them before anyone got seriously hurt. Ron instantly reached out and lowered her arm, shaking his head, without breaking his gaze from the pair who were still fighting in the middle of the common room. Probably because right now Harry appeared to be winning, and truce or no truce, Ron would never pass up an opportunity to see Malfoy take a beating.
"No, just let me fucking go, Potter!"
"I don't fucking think so – ouch – not after that stunt-"
"It was a precaution!"
"Fuck off! Now you can explain to them-"
"I am not – ow – talking to them!"
Harry managed to haul Draco over to where Ron and Hermione were, standing behind the Slytherin with the blond boys wrists in his grip and his arms twisted behind his back. The grip had forced Draco to bend over slightly to relieve the pressure on his joints, and the look on his face clearly showed he was torn between wanting to fight some more and not wanting his arms broken.
"Tell them," Harry instructed.
"No," Draco said obstinately and then yelped as Harry applied more than a little pressure to his wrists.
"Fuck! Fine, fine, I'll do it! Don't break my arms!"
"I should, just for the trouble you've caused me," Harry said, nevertheless releasing his grip on Draco slightly, enough for the Slytherin to stand up straight.
"You realise half your house is watching?" Draco said somewhat petulantly and wincing slightly; whether at the pain in his arms or at the situation, no-one could tell.
"Tough," Harry replied stubbornly. "That's your payback for cursing me."
"I only cursed you because we'd agreed not to tell anyone!"
"Yeah, we'd agreed, so why the hell did I need cursing?"
"Because you would have told these two anyway!"
"So you don't trust me now?"
"Looks like I had good reason not to!"
Ron cleared his throat and the pair looked up, halted in mid-argument. They glanced at each other for a moment, grey eyes meeting green and with that glance understanding hit Hermione with the force of a bludger, making her jaw drop. She snapped it shut quickly, hoping that everyone was too preoccupied watching Harry and Draco to have noticed.
"Either you tell them now, or I'm going to walk out of this room, seal the only exit and leave you by yourself." Harry said dangerously, leaning down to speak directly in Draco's ear.
"You wouldn't," Draco said, with eyes narrowed.
"Oh, I would," Harry said back, completely unperturbed.
"Fine," Draco shut his eyes, shook his head slightly and sighed, opening his eyes again but not meeting anyone's gaze, choosing instead to stare at the wall. "Potter is mad, because I cast a Silent Speaker curse on him lest he want to tell anyone that we have been dating in secret for the past four and a half months. Personally, I think he's being a giant twat because the curse wouldn't have activated if he'd just stuck to what we'd agreed in the first place."
The common room was silent. Ron was staring at Draco like he couldn't quite believe he was there. Expressions ranged from shocked to borderline hysterical and no-one could quite believe what they'd just heard.
"Right," Draco broke the silence himself, wrenching himself out of Harry's grip and turning to glare at him. "Now before you do your stupid, boring, Gryffindor thing of talking about sentiments and feelings and shit, you owe me lunch."
"Yeah, if you take the curse off," Harry glared back, folding his arms across his chest. "I'll need to be able to talk later about my sentiments and feelings and shit."
Draco gave him a withering look before nodding curtly to Ron and Hermione. "Granger. Weasel. I'll have him home in an hour or two."
He stumbled as Harry gave him a hard shove in the direction of the portrait hole, before turning apologetic eyes on Ron and Hermione.
"I'll explain everything later, I promise," he said with a beseeching look. Hermione managed to nod but Ron just continued to stare at him, dumbstruck, even as Harry turned away.
"Come on," Harry said irritably to Draco, who walked by his side to the portrait hole.
"Are you always this overly dramatic?" Draco could be heard asking as they climbed through the hole with slightly more dignity than they had entered.
"Only when you're a pain in the arse."
"And I thought you liked me being a pain in your arse, Potter."
"Oh, shut up."