Ron was suspicious. Very suspicious. And a little curious.

And of his best mate, Harry, no less.

Though, with the way Harry was acting, who could blame him?

Ron was almost certain he was the only one who noticed Harry sneaking out every night, to Merlin knows where.

So, with a well fabricated lie of needing to sneak out to meet up with his girlfriend, who was a Hufflepuff - that thing with Hermione hadn't lasted long, and though it ended in hideous fireworks, they had eventually agreed to be friends - Ron was gifted the use of the Cloak and the Map.

He gave Harry a grin, left the common room, walked to an empty hall, threw the cloak over himself, and waited.

Ron was very proud of himself; when he really wanted to, he could be very patient.

Finally, an hour and a half after curfew, Harry snuck out from behind the sleeping Fat Lady's portrait.

He still had his school uniform on, and as he checked the area, he straightened his tie and made sure he looked immaculate.

Ron wondered if he was off to meet a bird.

Then, Harry took off.

Both Ron and Harry had placed muffling charms on their feet, and with quick steps, they descended into the dungeons.

Harry turned a corner and stopped, Ron only a metre and a half behind him. There, at the other end of the hallway stood none other than Draco Malfoy.


Their names were spoken softly, and Ron wondered why it felt a little unusual, compared to the way they usually had said each other's surname.

Harry's lips twitched in a smirk, and without warning the two were firing off spells at each other.

Ron desperately wanted to jump out, but something felt off. This wasn't like their usual duels…

They advanced towards each other, slowly and steadily, and then Harry grabbed Malfoy's collar and slammed the blond against the wall.

"Hn, Draco, you're always so fiesty."

"Isn't that why you duel me?"

"Yeah, and it turns me on."

Ron's heart stopped. What?

"Such a horny boy, aren't you, Potter?"

"I blame your exceptional beauty and sex appeal."

"Right. If you get to blame your hard-on on me, then I must blame mine on your roguish smile and I-just-shagged hair."

Ron's eyes were bugging by now. What the hell was going on?

Harry leant in, humming in approval when Malfoy tipped his head back, letting Harry lick it before biting down.

Malfoy bucked his hips up and then the two were rolling their hips together, lips crashing together and tongues tasting each other eagerly.

Ron stifled a gasp when he saw Harry slow the kiss down and gently caress Malfoy's face. They broke apart, and Malfoy murmured, only just loud enough for Ron to hear, "I love you."

Harry beamed, and kissed Malfoy's nose. "I love you, too, Draco."

Malfoy looked genuinely happy at the returned sentiment. Then Harry leant in and whispered something in his ear, causing the blond's eyes to widen and then narrow in lust and mischief, lips curling into a smirk.

He flipped them, pressing Harry against the wall and immediately reaching down to unbutton Harry's trousers. He gave up, banishing the trousers and pants beneath them into a neat pile next to the couple. Unfastening his own trousers and pushing them down, he whispered a few spells that Ron didn't catch.

Grasping Harry's thighs, Malfoy pulled them up, prompting Harry to wrap his legs around the blond.

From his position, Ron could see their profiles, and watched in horrified fascination as Malfoy guided his prick to Harry's arsehole and thrust all the way in.

Harry's head flew back, gasping. "Merlin, yes, Draco. Take me hard and fast."

"You love it, don't you, Harry? The feeling of giving up control to someone else. You love knowing that I have all the power now, and you love the feeling of being used like a slut." Draco was pounding into the brunette, moaning softly in the back of his throat.


"Tell me, Harry. Tell me what you want."

"You, Draco, Merlin, yes! That! Just like that!"

"Umph," Malfoy groaned as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on Harry's neck. "Sweet merciful Merlin, Harry, you're so bloody tight."

"Hnng! A-and you fucking love it oh shite yes there."

Ron thought perhaps he should want to run, to hide, to obliviate himself, to scourgify his bloody eyes, but it was all so surreal for him that he couldn't really muddle his way past staring in fascination.

By the time they were done, both orgasming loudly and coming down from their high with soft kisses and bantered humour, Ron's mind had finally caught up, and, sickly pale under the Cloak, scurried away as fast as possible, hiding away in his bed.

He steadfastedly ignored Harry's happy humming when the boy came in from his rendezvous with Malfoy, finally drifting off to sleep sometime later.

The next morning, Ron woke up with the rest of his dorm mates, pretending like nothing had happened last night. He smiled at Harry, handing over the Cloak and Map, taking the teasing about snogging his girlfriend, and, picking Hermione up in the common room, headed down to the Great Hall.

Just outside it, the trio was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Morning, Weasley. Enjoy last night's show?"

Ron gasped and whirled around in fear, inhaling some of his own saliva in the process and choking on it.

He coughed, eyes watering, looking up to find Malfoy slink his arms about Harry's waist and lean up to kiss him.

"Morning, Drake."

"Good morning to you, too, you sneaky lion."

"Oh, you know you liked it. Don't lie; you're totally a closet exhibitionist."

"But of course. Why not show off this fabulous body that only you get to touch?"

A strangled gurgle from Ron interrupted the rapidly heating conversation, and Hermione grabbed Ron's arm, murmuring, "Honestly, Ronald, it's not that big of a surprise. But what did he mean by, 'did you enjoy the show?'"

Ron vowed in that moment to never again be curious or suspicious of his best friends. He, the poor little lion, might die from mortification next time.