Pairing: Harry/Draco
Prompt #: 28 .
Rating: strong NC17
Word Count: About 35K.
Summary:: Veela are very sexual creatures, and when Harry wakes up on his 18th birthday he finds himself unbelievably horny all day long. Draco walks in on him in a restroom and finds Harry wanking, and since he's wanted Harry for a long time he's happy to offer to "scratch the itch" for him. Since neither realizes that Harry's a Veela who's just come into his inheritance, they also don't realize they've just bonded by having sex - until the distance nearly kills them both when they part ways afterward. Now they've got to live together while they figure out how to undo the bond...
Warning(s):(highlight to read)*a lot of sex, some on the rougher side but all consensual, bonding, mild D/s concepts, mild violence, sexual harassment, dirty talking Draco, mention of mpreg but none present, mentions of past abuse*
Beta: A huge thank you to niteshine.
Note A big thank you to leo_draconis for this prompt, I love it to bits and my muses went wild for it. I know you said you wanted a nice long fic and this just got away from me as you can see from the word count. I hope you like it. Also a huge thanks to our lovely mod alafaye for the extension on this. It just got away from me and got huge. Honestly, I probably could have gone another 20K if I'd had all the time in the world. This is actually the shorter version of what I wanted to do and eventually I will be posting a longer version of the story. Unfortunately I'm very busy at the moment with multiple fest fics, so when I do find time to write I tend to focus on them rather than this. Just so there's no confusion I am indeed narryaworry over on Livejournal, no stealing has occurred. Comments are love and all feedback is highly appreciated.

This is a completed story, I will update it every two days until all parts are up!
Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.


Harry laid in his bed, reveling in the firm mattress and fluffy comforter as he awaited midnight and his 18th birthday. It was something of a novel experience to him, waiting for his birthday in comfort rather than a ratty mattress and insufficient blankets, but ever since he'd managed to get Grimmauld Place completely cleaned up he'd been living a fairly comfortable life. The only real drawback to the Black house was that he still couldn't get Mrs. Black's portrait off the wall and the old witch had yet to get over the fact that a half blood had inherited her home. Still, it was much better than his former home, at least he could throw curses at the portrait where he hadn't been able to curse his relatives. Casting a quick tempus, Harry grinned as he saw there was less than a minute left. Settling himself back into his pillows, Harry glanced out the window, watching for the owls he knew were coming.

Harry startled badly at the near frantic tapping on the window glass. Glancing around, he blinked dumbly at the sunlight streaming through the window, several irate owls glaring at him from outside. Stumbling out of bed, Harry hissed as his morning wood brushed against his pants. Somehow the sensation was so much more intense than usual, it felt like his entire being was on fire at the small brush of fabric against him. Panting heavily, Harry reached down to free himself from the confines of his pants only to stop as the tapping became more intense. Groaning heavily, Harry hobbled his way over to the window and opened it for the owls waiting outside.

"Sorry," he mumbled to the birds as they flew through the window, "Must have fallen asleep…"

Harry trailed off as he watched the owls deposit their packages on his bed and look at him expectantly. With a sigh he grabbed the bag of owl treats he kept on hand and dutifully dispersed them to the awaiting birds. When his room was finally cleared of owls, Harry settled back into his bed, his gaze quickly taking in the large pile of presents awaiting him. Deciding they could wait, the brunet settled back against his pillows before reaching for his crotch. His arousal hadn't waned in the slightest and it was his birthday, he deserved a celebratory wank first thing in the morning.

Easing himself out of his pants, Harry hissed as the cool air finally made contact with his aching length. Any slight movement felt a hundred times more intense than it usually did, something that may have concerned Harry had he not been so focused on his own pleasure. Gripping his shaft, the brunet began to move his hand slowly, savoring the sensation. Flicking his thumb over the head of his cock, Harry moaned. He couldn't remember the last time simply touching himself had felt so good. Pumping faster as he twisted his fist, Harry was almost desperate for more of the new, intense pleasure he was experiencing. He was almost disappointed when the familiar tightening in his gut started, signifying the close end to his heightened euphoria.

Harry came with a plaintive cry, spilling himself over his fist as he fell back limply against the pillows. A blush quickly spread over his cheeks as he stared down at his hand. He hadn't come that fast since he first hit puberty, it was actually a little embarrassing even though he was by himself. It was also odd, even though he'd just come, he didn't feel satisfied. With how intense the feeling of wanking had been he'd expected one of the strongest orgasms of his life, but it had been mediocre at best. All it had really done was wet his appetite and the arousal still thrumming through his body made it all too tempting to have another go at it. Shaking his head slightly, Harry cast a quick scourgifyon himself, banishing the remnants of his orgasm before tucking himself back into his pants and reaching for his presents.


Harry glanced up at the clock on the mantle over the fireplace in his sitting room. He had only ten more minutes until his friends and family were due to come over to celebrate his birthday and was trying to figure out if he had enough time. His arousal had yet to diminish at all despite his earlier wank. Breakfast under the watchful eye of Kreacher had been nothing short of horrific. He'd been hard the entire time and if he didn't know better he could have sworn the house elf was hitting on him. Kreacher had continuously touched him at least, a hand on his arm or a brush against his leg as he placed down the food, nothing too outrageous. Still, considering that the house elf rarely made any contact with him at all, it was unusual.

Once he'd finally managed to finish his meal, Harry had tried to escape upstairs for a shower as quietly as he could, only to wake up the portrait of Mrs. Black. Rather than the usual insults that she spewed forth, the woman had actually complimented him on looking rather dapper while patting down her hair. At least she had followed that rather disconcerting display by proclaiming the merits of her family line, but it hadn't been in the usual accusatory tone, it was almost as if she was trying to impress Harry. That had managed to dim Harry's arousal marginally before he fled.

Unfortunately his erection was back full force once he was in the shower and even ice cold water raining down on him couldn't make it go away. He'd ended up trying to wank again, only to be interrupted by Kreacher offering to wash him. The only thing more horrifying than the elf asking to touch his naked body while leering at him was the fact that he was still aroused and erect. He'd sent the house elf away with a somewhat squeaky order, but hadn't been able to bring himself to address his arousal after that. He still couldn't believe that Kreacher couldn't get rid of his erection, his body was clearly mutinying against him. The fact that no amount of persuasion would make his prick go down was not helping his mental state in the least.

Glancing back at the clock, Harry saw he only had seven minutes left. It had been decided that the party would be held at Grimmauld instead of the Burrow this year simply because of the press. Harry didn't want to risk any photographers or reporters sneaking in and Grimmauld offered him sanctuary from that particular nuisance. After a bit of internal debate he decided he could handle his current problem before anyone arrived. If it was anything like that morning he'd be done quickly and would be more relaxed while people were over. Reaching down Harry began to palm himself through his muggle jeans, slowly rubbing the heel of his palm over the lump he found there. Moaning softly he allowed his head to fall back against the couch, eyes drifting closed as the pleasure started to wash over him. He was just starting to work open the top button of his jeans when he heard the Floo roar to life. Jumping slightly, Harry leaned forward in an attempt to conceal his bulge as people started coming through.

"Harry!" Ginny cried as she exited the fireplace, throwing herself at the somewhat stunned brunet, "It's so good to see you! You need to come around the Burrow more often."

"It's good to see you too, Gin," Harry laughed, hugging her one handed from his seat.

"Hi Harry, happy birthday," Hermione called as she banished the soot from her robes, "Have you had a good day so far?"

"Much better than usual," Harry smiled as he stood to great her as the rest of the Weasley's made their way through the Floo, surreptitiously escaping Ginny's hold and trying to angle his body in a way that no one would notice his still prominent arousal.

"Mate, you do something new with your hair?" Ron asked, blinking at him dumbly.

"Er, no," Harry said, running a hand through his black tresses, "Why, what's different?"

"Dunno, but it looks good," Ron murmured, a hand raised as if he meant to run his own fingers through it.

"Ron's right," George broke in, pushing his brother out of the way as he stepped closer, "Something looks different. It's glossier, a little smoother. Did you switch shampoos?"

"No," Harry shook his head slightly, "Nothing new. Guess I'm just having a good hair day."

"Well," Molly Weasley said, "It hardly matters. Now why don't you lot get settled while I go start cooking, I know you have some catching up to do."

"You don't have to do that Mrs. Weasley," Harry said as he obediently sat back down on the couch, inwardly cringing when Ginny sat beside him, "Kreacher already started on dinner. You should stay and chat."

"Oh pish," Molly admonished with a wave of her hand, "I can't let that poor elf do everything on his own."

Harry was about to object when the Weasley matron vanished off to the kitchen. Harry, Ron, Ginny, George, and Hermione all cringed when Kreacher's shrill objections to her presence quickly followed.

"I thought Luna and Neville would be here as well," Hermione noted.

"They're coming in an hour or so," Harry said with a soft smile, "About the same time Mr. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, and Andromeda are getting here."

"Is Andromeda bringing Teddy?" Hermione asked, sitting primly on the love seat with Ron.

"Most likely," Harry said with a smile, "She knows how I love having Teddy around."

"It's too bad Charlie couldn't make it," Ginny said as she scooted closer to Harry.

"I know, but he had to-"

"I'm going to be the starting Keeper for the Chudley Canons," Ron blurted out, eyes riveted on Harry.

"Uh..." Harry blinked at his friend dumbly for a moment before what he said registered. "I thought you were going to start Auror training next month."

"I'll be really famous," Ron insisted as he leaned forward, "No one else will be both an Auror and a professional Quidditch player."

"Ron, are you feeling alright?" Hermione asked, a hand coming up to rest on the redhead's arm.

"I'll make loads of money," Ron went on, seemingly unaware of the stares he was receiving, all his attention focused on Harry.

"What did you do?" Harry demanded, turning to George.

"Nothing that I know of," the redhead muttered, staring at his brother, "Hey Ron, you didn't eat any strange candy recently did you?" Ron ignored his brother, simply standing and starting to make his way over to Harry, a glazed expression stealing over his face as his pupils dilated.

A loud crash and shrieks were heard from the kitchen and Harry jumped to his feet. "I should go see what that was," he said, "You guys try to figure out what's wrong with Ron."

Quickly fleeing the sitting room, Harry paused in the hallway. Reaching down, he quickly readjusted himself, tucking his still potent erection into the waist of his jeans before making his way to the kitchen. Inside he found Kreacher having what appeared to be a fit as he brandished a whisk at Mrs. Weasley.

"Kreacher be making Master Harry Potter his birthday dinner," the house elf growled, "Kreacher serve Master Harry Potter, not blood traitor scum!"

"Kreacher!" Harry admonished, "Do not speak to her like that."

"Master Harry Potter, sir," Kreacher simpered, something that had Harry startling badly, "She be trying to take Kreacher's job, she be intruding. Kreacher means no disrespect, but Kreacher must be doing the cooking."

"Uh...yeah," Harry muttered, "Molly, I'm sorry. Maybe you should just let him, it's easier to not fight him on this kind of stuff. You know how he gets."

"You shouldn't indulge him like this Harry," Molly admonished, glaring at the elf who returned the look with twice as much venom.

"I know, but he's just so set in his ways," the brunet sighed, "It's better to give on the small things so that he's more tolerable as a whole. Besides, there's something wrong with Ron. He was acting really strange and we could use your help to figure it out."

Molly immediately rose to the bait of something being wrong with one of her children. Ever since the Last Battle, the Weasley matriarch had been extremely possessive and overbearing towards her remaining children. Fred's death had rattled her more than she would like to admit and even a hint that something could be wrong was liable to send her into a fit. Predictably she bustled out of the kitchen muttering about her babies, her attention effectively diverted.

Sighing heavily, Harry leaned against the doorway and watched Kreacher return to his cooking and let his thoughts wander. He was becoming increasingly concerned about his state of arousal. Even the thought of the Last Battle, of all the people that had been lost, couldn't curb his desire. All he wanted was to steal away and relieve himself, but he doubted he'd get a chance anytime soon. Just the thought of finally getting a grip on himself, or possibly someone else helping him along, was enough to have his cock twitching with excitement. Really, the thought of someone else being there, taking him in hand and stroking him, squeezing oh so perfectly-

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a small hand grip onto his wrist. Looking down, he was met with the glazed, wide eyed expression on Kreacher's face, a small line of drool trailing from the house elf's mouth.

"Kreacher?" he yelped, "What is it?"

The house elf visibly shook himself before looking around. Rather than responding, the elf simply went back to the stove and continued to cook, acting for all the world as if he hadn't just grabbed Harry's wrist. Staring at the elf for one more moment, Harry was distracted by the sound of footsteps in the hall. Turning he found Ginny making her way towards him, an innocent smile on her lips.

"Ron's acting normal again," she said as she came up to him, "Though Mum's still worrying over him."

"Yeah, sorry about sending her after him," Harry murmured as he ducked into the kitchen, "I just had to get her out of here before she and Kreacher killed each other."

"That's probably for the best," Ginny agreed as she perched on the edge of the kitchen table, pointedly ignoring Kreacher's mutterings as she did so. "We should start celebrating though," she beamed, "How about some butterbeer?"

"That's a great idea," Harry said, "Just let me grab some."

Reaching up towards the cabinet that held all his alcohol, Harry realized belatedly that his shirt was too short and as soon as he reached it exposed a patch of his abdomen, his still tucked cock was suddenly on display. Blushing hotly he dropped his arms and glanced over at Ginny to find her eyes riveted on his groin and a salacious grin on her lips.

"Why Harry," she murmured, pushing herself away from the table and sauntering towards him, "Was that for me?"

Harry's eyes went wide as he stared at the redhead, a feeling of cold dread flooding his system. He was just about to deny it when for the first time that day he felt himself go completely flaccid, something that had him looking down in amazement. "It's finally gone!" he practically cheered, "I've been trying to get rid of that all day. Thanks Gin!"

"Eh..." Ginny faltered as the exuberant brunet hugged her happily before reaching up to grab the butterbeer once again, this time with no erection on display when his shirt rode up. "No problem," she muttered before taking her drink.

Smiling happily at the somewhat morose redhead, Harry started back towards the sitting room, his arms loaded with butterbeer. He fully intended to ignore the disappointment shining in Ginny's eyes as she was the only thing that could actually disperse his arousal. He had no intentions of leading her on or letting her think that they would ever be together again, as far as he was concerned she was a sister to him. He had done a lot of thinking while on the run from Voldemort and had come to the conclusion that maybe there was a reason why all his dates with women went badly and that maybe his continual fantasies about men had something to do with that. He almost stopped short to scowl down at his groin as his prick took a decided interest in his thoughts about the male form. Thinking quickly about Ginny taking hold of him instead, Harry sighed in relief that he wouldn't have to hide his state again.

"Butterbeer!" Harry announced as he re-entered the room. He almost laughed at the look of distress on Ron's face. Mrs. Weasley was hovering over him protectively, her wand out as she went through various diagnostic spells.

"Muuuum," Ron whined, "I'm fine, really. I probably just ate one of George's sweets on accident."

"You never know," Molly murmured, "It's not dragon pox, no dark magic..."

"Here, mate," Harry chuckled, handing Ron a butterbeer.

"Thanks," Ron muttered. As he took the drink from Harry their fingers brushed lightly and the redhead stilled. "Harry," the redhead murmured, "You smell..." Harry watched in horror as his best friend leaned forward until he was forced to lean back. Closing his eyes, Ron took a deep breath before smiling dreamily. "Like broom wax and strawberries," the redhead moaned, "So good."

Stumbling backwards, Harry shot a panicked look over at Molly. The Weasley matriarch was staring at her son in absolute shock. "Ron, darling," Molly said softly, one hand reaching towards her youngest son, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Brilliant," Ron smiled goofily.

"Really, because you just smelled Harry and he looks about ready to piss himself," George interjected.

Ron blinked dumbly at his brother before his eyes started to clear. Suddenly his eyes went wide and he stared at his family in shock. "I just...I just...oh Merlin," he babbled before dropping his head into his hands.

"Look, mate, just forget it," Harry muttered, moving in a wide circle around the redhead to pass out the rest of the butterbeer, "We'll just pretend it never happened and be done with it."

"Right, never happened, never horribly humiliated myself or sniffed my best friend, never occurred."

Looking over at Hermione, Harry tilted his head towards the still babbling redhead pointedly. Nodding back, Hermione moved over to him, putting a hand on Ron's hunched back and murmuring soothingly to him.

"Well that was exciting," George announced, grinning widely at Harry before sending a slightly exasperated look at his brother.

"Really?" Harry laughed nervously, "Because I'm feeling a tad violated."

George just grinned cheekily at him, completely disregarding the brunet's returning scowl. It took nearly half an hour to get Ron to stop lamenting the fact that he had apparently lost his mind. After many reassurances that everyone would pretend it never happened, the redhead finally settled down and the group forged on. Conversation seemed to center around the reconstruction of Hogwarts, a topic that always seemed to take over any gathering. While Molly and Hermione were debating the necessary warding Harry's attention wandered over to his best mate. Ron and Hermione weren't sitting quite as close together as Harry would have expected, if anything it looked like it was merely a coincidence that they were sitting together at all. There were no brushes of hands, no unnecessary contact, and eye contact was kept to a minimum. After the Last Battle the pair had seemed so close, always touching and gazing longingly at each other to the point that it actually made everyone else incredibly uncomfortable. To see them purposefully putting distance between themselves was just odd.

When Hermione excused herself to the restroom, Harry quickly muttered something about checking on Kreacher and followed her out. As he hovered outside the bathroom door, the brunet quickly readjusted his once again prominent arousal. Not even the thought of Ginny was enough to get rid of it any longer, something that was not sitting well with him. All he wanted was to steal away and take care of his predicament, but he doubted he'd have any time for the rest of the day. After he'd talked to Hermione he'd see what he could do, but for right now he needed a word with his friend.

As the bathroom door opened, Hermione startled slightly at the sight of a rather jittery Harry before smiling warmly at her friend. "Hey Harry," she said softly, "How is your birthday going?"

"You already asked me that when you arrived," Harry smiled, "But it's still going well. Um...Hermione, is everything alright with you?"

"What do you mean?" the bushy haired brunet asked, a frown marring her features.

"Well," Harry murmured, "You asked me the same question twice for one thing. Normally you'd never do that. But really what I'm wondering about is you and Ron. You two seem...I don't know, unconnected today. Is everything alright?"

"Oh," Hermione frowned and ran a hand through her hair, "You noticed that?"

"I may be a little clueless," Harry said, pointedly ignoring the snort that issued from his friend, "But I'm not stupid. What's going on with you guys?"

"Well," Hermione bit her lip slightly, "We weren't going to say anything until after your birthday, we didn't want to ruin it for you. Ron and I broke up two days ago. It wasn't that big a deal, neither of us are really all that hung up about it and it was a mutual decision, but we didn't want to cause drama."

"What happened?" Harry asked, frowning as he tried to think of an instance that could have caused the break up.

"Nothing really," Hermione admitted, "We both just realized that while there may be some physical attraction, we're two very different people. Intellectually we just don't mesh all that well. We've been somewhat out of sorts for a few weeks now actually. I don't blame you for not noticing, you've been so busy at the Ministry with the Death Eater trials that you barely had time for anything else."

"I do feel bad for not being there all that much," Harry admitted, "After the Malfoy trials are finished I shouldn't have to be too involved in everything."

"It's fine, Harry," Hermione soothed, "We know how important it is. What you're doing is great, the Malfoy's don't all deserve to go to Azkaban, Draco and Narcissa didn't really have a choice in what happened."

"I know," Harry said, "We'll see what happens. Now, I need to use the loo, why don't you head back to the party and make sure Ron hasn't lost his mind and started flirting with the lamps."

Hermione nodded, giggling softly as she headed back towards the sitting room. Quickly entering the bathroom and locking the door behind him, Harry started to open his trousers before pausing. After a moment's thought , he cast a quick silencing and locking spell at the door, it wouldn't do to have someone come looking for him and find him wanking. Closing the lid on the toilet, Harry sat down as he fished his erection out of his trousers, not bothering to even pull them down. Letting his eyes fall closed, Harry began to stroke himself. He once again felt so hyper sensitive, like every nerve ending was on fire and the pleasure would consume him whole. He didn't know what was causing it, but he couldn't complain if it brought him to such new heights of feeling.

Moving his hand over his length, Harry let his mind wander. Immediately he began to pull images of broad shoulders, well muscled chests, and sturdy hands to the forefront of his mind. He could practically feel it, the strong male body pressed up behind him, a rough hand trailing down his torso to take hold of him. That same calloused hand stroking him roughly, wrenching the most embarrassing noises from him. Lips and teeth working over his neck before those teeth sunk harshly into his flesh.

With a cry Harry came, spilling himself over his still pumping fist. Once again the orgasm paled in comparison to when he was touching himself, weak and unimpressive. He was still half hard despite his release and as he watched his prick came back to life as if he hadn't come just seconds before. That was downright concerning, Harry was starting to get a little freaked out over it. If it hadn't gone away by tomorrow he'd have to go to St. Mungos to be checked out and tested for aphrodisiacs, it would just figure that some love struck fan had slipped him something in the hope of seducing him. He'd go now, but he wasn't about to admit to his friends why he had to go, they would never let him live it down.

With a sigh Harry cleaned himself off and righted his clothes, doing his best to hide his never fading arousal. Glancing at himself in the mirror to make sure it wasn't too obvious, Harry dispelled his charms to the door and headed back towards the sitting room. He was somewhat startled to realize the rest of his guests had arrived while he was wanking, he hadn't thought he'd taken quite that long.

"Hey mate," George called as he re-entered the room, "What took you so long? Kreacher couldn't have been that interesting."

Laughing nervously, Harry scratched the back of his neck. "I went to the loo after I checked on him," Harry admitted, "I'm having a bit of an upset stomach lately."

"I can brew you a potion for that," Ron blurted, leaning forward in his chair as if trying to get closer to the brunet, "I'm brilliant in potions, could be a master if I wanted. I can brew whatever you want."

"Is this what you were talking about?" Bill asked, eyeing his brother critically as Fleur gazed at Harry speculatively.

"I'm up for multiple Masterships," Ron continued, oblivious to the stares he was receiving and the worried tutting his mother was making.

"Of course you are," Harry soothed, sinking further into his chair, "You know what would make me really happy though?"

"I'll do it, whatever it is I'll do anything to make you happy," Ron exclaimed, eyes focused unwaveringly on Harry.

"If you would go and check on Kreacher for me one more time, just to make sure everything is going as it should."

"Of course!" Ron practically shouted, jumping out of his seat and racing out of the room.

"The wrackspurts are all around him," Luna murmured, a dreamy smile on her face, "You'll have to forgive Ronald, he just can't help it."

"Oh, right," Harry smiled at her, "How could I have missed that?"

Luna just smiled benignly at him before turning to Neville and striking up a conversation about moon lilies and how they attracted various sprites. Harry smiled nervously, allowing the conversation to flow over him once again. He couldn't help but notice that Fleur kept staring at him critically, as if she was trying to figure something out. Whatever it was she was thinking she clearly didn't believe, the look in her eyes was one of dismissal and curiosity, as if she was trying to find a real explanation for her quandary. A few minutes later Ron returned, looking sheepish and sat morosely in his spot, refusing to make eye contact or speak unless directly engaged.

About half an hour later Kreacher popped in and announced dinner was served, causing the entire group to migrate to the kitchen. As he was walking down the hall, Harry bumped his shoulder against Ron's. Just as he opened his mouth to apologize, Harry found himself pushed up against the wall, the redhead's mouth covering his, a tongue shoved down his throat, and hands thrust down the back of his jeans to cup his arse. A rather undignified squeaking sound erupted from the captured brunet before Ron was ripped away from him, a horrified looking Bill holding him as far from Harry as possible.

"What the fuck, Ron?" Harry exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "What is wrong with you tonight?"

"I know you want me," Ron whined, "I want you so bad, you're so beautiful, please let me love you."

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry called, "I think you need to take Ron to be checked out, something is definitely wrong with him."

"I will take him," Fleur said, coming forward to clamp a hand over Ron's shoulder, "I think I am best equipped given the situation. 'Arry, you should find someone to teach you, it will make things easier."

"Teach me?" Harry asked, baffled by her statement. It was too late though, Fleur had already disappeared back towards the Floo, a dazed Ron in tow.

"I'll go with her," Bill said, giving his family a toothy grin, "I'll send you an owl as soon as I find out what she meant and if anything is wrong with Ron. You guys go back to the party, no need to let a temporary bought of insanity on Ron's part ruin the night."

Harry waved Bill off, his mind working furiously as he tried to come up with an explanation for what had just happened. After a brief discussion it was decided that everyone may as well enjoy the rest of the night, though Molly did vanish quickly after she was done eating. The rest of the evening was somewhat tense, but overall enjoyable.