Ron had discovered the best way back to the castle late at night if you didn't want to walk from the gates was definitely floo powder, which ended you up in a small and deliberately disused looking fireplace in a storeroom just off the Great Hall. Draco and Ron apparated to the Leaky Cauldron; then took floo from there. They stumbled out in a rush of soot, raising clouds of dust. Draco reached out to steady Ron, who stumbled a little as he came out of the fireplace. His hand found itself sliding round Ron more than was strictly necessary. Ron didn't complain, but moved closer to Draco. His own hands were suddenly on Draco's shoulders, and he was looking down into Draco's eyes. This time Draco licked his lips, and Ron moved forward. Their lips touched, and Draco ran one hand up Ron's t-shirt as the other clutched his hip. One of Ron's hands slid into Draco's hair, and the other ranged firmly down his back, pulling him into closer contact. Their lips were hot, and they kissed raggedly, desperately, as if they had been waiting for this kiss for a very long time. They pulled apart enough for Draco to bite Ron's lower lip, and then they were kissing again; hot tongues sliding over each other. Draco was virtually wrapped around Ron, fingers digging into his hair and back, one leg hooked up over his hip. Ron wrapped his arms more firmly round Draco, half holding him up as they kissed. At last Ron pulled back, and looked down at Draco, who gazed back, hair tousled and eyes heavy. Ron could feel his chest heaving, and knew that he wanted Draco more than he'd ever wanted anyone. Lust was pumping in his blood like a drug. He hooked both hands under Draco's arse like a sling, and pulled him up against him, nearly lifting him off his feet. Draco shifted his hold so both hands were around Ron's neck, anchoring him, and wriggled his hips in Ron's grasp. Ron kissed him again, and Draco met him more than halfway. Eventually they paused for breath, and Draco pulled away. He took Ron's hand, and pulled him toward the door without words. Ron followed willingly, and soon they were nearly running through the corridors in their haste to get to their rooms. They made it to the common room and stumbled through, ignoring Therese's look of pained reproach. Draco was on Ron again as the door swung shut, and they sank to the floor. Ron could feel his blood fizzing as Draco climbed into his lap. He felt his flesh tingling all over, and his fingers were soon busy with Draco's buttons. The violet shirt fell open, and Ron ran his hands up Draco's chest before pushing the shirt off and throwing it away. Draco pushed Ron's shirt up, leaving Ron to wriggle out of the arms while he kissed and licked Ron's neck. Ron finally got his arms out of his t-shirt and pulled Draco down on top of him as he reclined on the floor. His lips met Draco's shoulder for a moment, and he tasted Draco sweaty and salty on his tongue. Then he kissed him again, running his hands down Draco's back, pulling him hard against him and rubbing their erections together. Draco dispensed with subtlety, and unbuttoned Ron's jeans, sliding his hand inside Ron's briefs and freeing his cock. Ron moaned into Draco's mouth, and rolled them over on the floor, slipping down Draco's body to undo his pants with his teeth. He licked Draco's cock through the thin silk of his boxers, and felt Draco groan in appreciation, then moved back up to kiss and lick Draco's stomach. Draco twisted his hands in Ron's red hair, and pulled him back up his body. He wrapped his legs around Ron's hips and thrust up into him. Ron stifled a groan by burying his teeth in Draco's neck. They kissed again, sweaty and panting and hard against each other.

Suddenly, the door flew open with a bang.

"Weasley! Malfoy!" shouted a voice, then the person it belonged to nearly tripped over their entwined bodies and the voice changed from shouting to a kind of puzzled croak. Ron blushed crimson to match his hair, and they both refastened their pants quickly as they pulled away from each other and got to their feet.

"Well. Um. Yes," said Severus Snape, looking away and seeming as near to embarrassment as he could possibly get. Ron and Draco matched his embarrassment, and were looking carefully at their feet.

"What is it, Severus?" asked Draco, in a voice that didn't shake too much.

"Imps," snapped Severus, seeming to snap back into his normal mode. "They have somehow escaped the confinement that you, Weasley, put them in, and have got through the classroom wards that you, Malfoy, put up, and are now wreaking havoc in my laboratory." He glared at them both. "I suggest you go and fix it." Ron used a summoning charm to get two thick, long-sleeved shirts and some equipment. He handed one to Draco, without looking at him, though their fingers brushed and they both jumped.

"You'll need something this thick, Draco, they're nasty little beasts.¡± He turned to Snape. "Would you like to stay here, Severus, while we sort the problem out?"

"Thank you, Weasley, I will. I do not intend to go near there again until the situation is under control." Snape stalked over to the fireplace and sat down. Ron and Draco noticed that he was wearing a black dressing gown over a nightshirt and his feet were bare. They raised their eyebrows at each other. Things had to be pretty bad to get Severus Snape out in the corridors in his pyjamas.

Harry and Hermione appeared at the doors of the castle the next morning before 8am, well before Ron could be expected to get up and get ready for a 10am brunch date. They were suffering a bit, but Hermione's hangover cure seemed to be holding them together as well as could be expected, and Harry had a useful little tiredness charm that kept them from too much fatigue. Therese and Turpin remembered Harry from his last visit, when he had staggered in with Ron and woken them up, and fortunately Harry remembered the password. They crept into the common room quietly, just in case.

"Look!" hissed Harry, obviously under the delusion that this was a quieter form of communication. He pointed to a crumpled violet shirt on the floor. Hermione grabbed it and held it up.

"Piece of evidence number one. It looks a bit the worse for wear, doesn't it?" She caught sight of a bit of red material peeking out from under a chair, and hauled out Ron's t-shirt.

"Well, well. What could have possessed them to take their shirts off down here? It wasn¡¯t that hot last night."

"Great deductions, Sherlock," said Hermione, "I don't think we need to be in any doubt about what they did when they got home last night."

"Fucked like rabid ferrets, undoubtedly."

"I don't want to think about that."

"You might soon be confronted with the evidence of it," Harry pointed out in a very reasonable voice. Hermione went a bit green in spite of the hangover cure.

"Let's hope they had the decency to pull the covers over themselves."

They snuck up the stairs, pausing often to shush the other for making too much noise, though they both knew that Ron was capable of sleeping through an explosion. They wouldn't put it past Draco to be a light sleeper, though, so they took extra care.

The door to Ron's room eased open under Harry's hand. They slid quietly round the edge of it, and walked over to the bed, giggling quietly.

"What took you so long?" inquired a voice from the bed. Harry and Hermione looked at each other. That had not sounded like either Ron or Draco. They looked back at the bed, and the person inside it sat up. They screamed.

"Shut up," commanded Severus Snape irritably. Harry and Hermione ran for the door. Severus reached for his wand. A quick spell had their wands in his hand and the door locked. Harry and Hermione turned in trepidation to face him.

"What, exactly, is the meaning of all this noise?" he enquired, in a very soft voice. "What are you doing inside the castle, disturbing my sleep?"

"What are you doing in Ron's bed?" gasped out Harry. The hangover cure was not strong enough for shocks of this magnitude, and he was feeling distinctly lightheaded.

"You mean to say that you are looking for Ron? Do you usually creep into his bedroom and scream at him?"

"We were screaming at you," blurted out Hermione.

"Well, perhaps that explains it. I will be more careful in future to lock the door." He threw their wands back to them. "Kindly go away and do not disturb me again." They bolted through the door and slammed it behind them; then leant back against it, gasping for breath and feeling very disturbed themselves.

"Where is he, then?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know."

"°I don't fancy trying Draco's room."

"No, we might find Dumbledore in there."

"Gross."

"Yep."

They were still leaning against the door a minute later when the door to the common room opened again. They heard voices downstairs and this time they sounded distinctly familiar. Apart from any other identifying features, they were arguing.

"What are they doing coming back now?" whispered Harry.

"I don't know."

"Go and find out and stop bothering me!" commanded a voice from inside the room, and Harry and Hermione leaped as if they had been stung and clattered down the stairs as quickly as they could given their state. The hangover cure was not designed for mornings like this.

The sight that first met their eyes when they rounded the corner was not reassuring. Draco was wearing one of Ron's shirts, they both looked sweaty and exhausted like they'd been up all night, and they were collapsed in chairs glaring alternately at each other and a large cage full of sullen imps. Draco was unbuttoning his shirt, and as Harry and Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs he slipped it off to reveal long scratches down his back. They gulped. Perhaps they didn't need to witness this scene. Too late. Draco had spotted them.

"Look, Ron, it's the wonder children looking like they've got lost." Ron muttered something that sounded distinctly uncomplimentary under his breath, and pointed to the couch. They scuttled over and sat down, looking weak and clammy. Ron stood wearily and examined Draco's scratches.

"They're not deep, Draco. You'll live. Do you want me to clean and heal them?"

"Just cleaning will be ok." He waited while Ron cleaned the scratches. "What about that burn?"

"Yeah, if you could heal it, that would be great." Ron slipped is own shirt off to reveal a large burn on his stomach. There was a matching hole in his shirt where an especially nasty imp had managed to reach. Draco healed it quickly; then looked at Harry and Hermione.

"I don't want to know what they're doing here. I'll see you at breakfast, if you can manage it before getting some sleep." He walked toward the stairs. Ron turned to Harry and Hermione.

"Make it quick. I've been up all night recapturing these," he indicated the imps, "from Snape's dungeon." Harry looked immeasurably relieved.

"Then that explains what he's doing in your bed."

Draco, about to climb the stairs, turned at this, and looked back to see a thunderstruck expression on Ron's face.

"You went into my room?" inquired Ron carefully. Harry and Hermione nodded. "For what purpose?" They looked shiftily away. "What did you think Severus was doing in my bed?" They looked even more uneasy. "Draco," Ron called to the blonde, still standing by the stairs, "I will need to use your bedroom this morning to get showered and dressed, if Severus is still occupying mine. Is that alright?" Draco nodded, and continued up the stairs.

"Wait for me here," instructed Ron. "We have some talking to do."

He made it up the stairs and into Draco's room before he started laughing hysterically. Draco, emerging from the bathroom, found him giggling on the floor. He arched an eyebrow. Ron found the moment exquisitely funny, and started to laugh again. A smile tugged the corner of Draco's mouth, and he started laughing too.

"I'm just imagining them pulling the covers off Severus," he explained between gasps, "and shouting 'gotcha!'" They eventually leant back against the wall, drying away the trickles of tears with their chests heaving.

"I'd better have a shower; and then I can torture them some more over breakfast," Ron said at last, rising to his feet. Draco rose too, and, on impulse, gave him a hug. Ron hugged back, and they parted shyly, both averting their faces. Ron wasn't sure what was happening, and he was pretty sure that Draco didn't know either, but he was sure that something important was going down between them. They would have to have a talk soon.

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