Arse - H/D - R
Title: Arse
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Draco, implied Harry/Ron
Words: 1250
Rating: R

This is a sequel to My Eyes!

It is unbetaed, because my rosina_alcona is off to Darkest Peru tomorrow, and I wanted to Bon Voyage her.


Arse
****
I went looking for Hermione and found her in the library. I wish she’d been somewhere else.

Because while, on one level, it meant that everything was as normal, on another it meant that I wasn’t dreaming and what I had just seen really had happened.

I sat down beside her and stared into space, the ridiculous images playing over and over in my head. Harry and Malfoy. Together. Naked. Very, very naked.

Hermione kept taking her notes, but after a few minutes she sighed and looked up at me. “You were supposed to meet me here nearly an hour ago,” she pointed out. Then she must have noticed how I wasn’t actually present and she said “Ron? Are you OK? Has something happened?”

I turned to her but couldn’t focus on her face. All I could see was Harry’s arse flexing as he ground down against Malfoy. “Harry,” I said.

That caught her attention. “What’s wrong?” she asked sharply, but still couldn’t break through the fog surrounding me.

“No, not wrong,” I said rather dreamily. “Harry’s fine. He looked fine. He looked great.”

“Ron, I am going to hex you in a minute. What is wrong with you?” Hermione was getting angry, but even that couldn’t shake me out of this daze.

“Arse,” I muttered, and the look on Hermione’s face finally got through to me. “Hermione!” I practically shouted, and she shushed me.

“Ronald Weasley, I swear, if you don’t start making sense…”

“Hermione,” I managed, actually focussing on her worried face. “I saw Harry having, um, sex.” I finished in a very small voice.

Her eyes opened wide as Galleons, and she opened her mouth to speak and nothing came out. It had taken nearly seven years, but she was finally speechless. If only it hadn’t been because Harry’s come had spread all over Malfoy’s chest as he writhed under him. Oh, right. She didn’t even know that bit yet. I realised she was speaking and I shook my head to clear the noise Malfoy made as he came and tried listening to her.

“How, in Merlin’s name, did you manage that?” she finished.

“Seeing it?” I asked.

“Yes, seeing it – aren’t you listening to me?”

I sighed. Thinking about what had happened, I wasn’t sure that Harry would be the one she’d criticise. She always managed to find something to complain about in my behaviour, and I’m not too sure I’d been blameless.

“I was in the dorm,” I started, in a monotone, “and I heard him coming up the stairs with someone, and I hid under his Cloak so I’d get some good ammo to tease him about.” I paused for her to shout at me.

She shook her head. “You really are the most insensitive wart I have ever met. You deliberately spied on him with someone?” she asked.

“Not spied, Hermione.” I said, indignantly. “They’d have seen me in the dorm and it’d’ve been awkward. So I put the Cloak on, and then I could see who it was, and then sneak out, and then I could use it later.”

She frowned. “So why did you say you’d seen him have sex?”

“Shhhhh!” I hissed, still unable to hear the word. “That wasn’t my fault!”

She raised a remarkably sceptical eyebrow.

“He locked and Impeturbed the door – I was trapped!” I felt I was on safe ground there, at any rate. It was Harry’s fault I’d been trapped.

“So, you watched?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Where were you?”

“In the dorm.”

“Where in the dorm?”

“By my bed.”

“Which is right by Harry’s bed?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t move away?

“No.”

“You didn’t creep over to the far wall and shut your eyes and put your fingers in your ears?”

I frowned. She didn’t understand what it was like. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything. “No, Hermione, I didn’t. Because I was frozen to the spot. I was in shock. I will never get these images out of my head!”

She shook her head. “Oh, Ron. You’re impossible. You do know you should have looked away, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t!”

“Why are you so shocked, anyway? Harry’s a big boy, now, and if he is in a relationship,” I winced, “then we should be supportive. What now?”

“You didn’t ask who it was,” I muttered.

“I don’t think that’s my business,” she replied primly, and I saw red.

“Well, he doesn’t think it’s our business, or he’d have told us, but I saw it, and I didn’t mean to, and I wish I hadn’t, but I have this picture in my head of Harry’s arse flexing and thrusting, and these hands cupping it and pulling and…” I raised my hand to illustrate and broke off when I saw Hermione’s face. She has flushed scarlet and was staring at my hands. I sighed and my hands dropped into my lap.

“OK, Ron,” she swallowed. “Who was he?”

“He?” I shouted and she shushed me again. “He? How did you know it was a ‘he’?” She gave me a patented Look. “You knew? That he likes blokes? Does he like blokes?”

“I thought that he did. He’s never said anything, before you shout at me again. But I have seen how he looks at certain boys, and I didn’t know if he’d ever done anything about it, because we know he has issues about showing his feelings, and we both know he’d never have made a move on Cho – that was entirely her doing – and she has that boyish, athletic build anyway. And you wouldn’t be freaking out like this if it had been a girl.”

“Why did you never mention this?” I asked, feeling like I’d had yet another rug pulled out from under me. Feeling like I didn’t know anything about anyone anymore.

“It’s not my place to gossip, Ron,” she replied. “If he’d wanted us to know he’d have told us. Instead of locking you in the room as he snogged someone.” She paused. “You don’t mean actual sex, sex do you?”

I gestured vaguely. “Practically actual sex, sex Hermione. Actual nakedness. Actual” another vague gesture “thrusting.”

“Actual penetration?”

I felt my ears burst into flame. “No! Hermione!”

“What? You’re the one that called it sex, and…”

“Look,” I interrupted, “I am not going into detail. It’s the who we need to discuss, not the what.”

“It was Malfoy, wasn’t it?”

My mouth dropped open about a foot. How the fuck did she know that. “How the fucking fuck did you know that?” I squeaked.

“Don’t swear, Ron,” she tutted. “There’s hardly anyone above fourth year left at school, and there are only two boys that I have seen him watching, and Malfoy’s one.”

“And the other is?”

“Irrelevant.”

I practically growled at her. “And you’re OK with this?”

“With what?”

“With our best friend coming all over that evil little ferret!”

“Ron, how was he? How did he look afterwards?”

“Amazing.”

“What?”

“Relaxed. He looked relaxed and happy. There. Are you happy?”

“I am if he is, Ron. Really. Doesn’t he deserve to be happy?”

“Yes, but not with Malfoy!”

“Then with whom?”

“With me! I take care of him! Not Draco-fucking-Malfoy!” I shouted at her and then froze at the look on her face. “I, I didn’t mean it like that, Hermione,” I stammered.

“Are you sure?” she asked, infuriatingly calmly.

I stared through her, the image of Harry’s arse thrusting in my mind once more. Oh, dear God.


Cinderella.