It seemed at first as if Harry and Hermione had learned their lesson in the Great Snape Disaster, and Ron and Draco could proceed with a somewhat circuitous courtship in peace. They hadn't had a serious talk yet, though both knew it had to happen. Draco was in his room, chewing his lip; contemplating breakfast and what he should wear. He was going on another expedition to the boundary, but not through the Forbidden Forest this time. He had asked Ron to accompany him for no reason except the nice feeling he got having him round. He caught himself thinking such things, and sternly told himself to stop behaving like a girl, even as his stomach fluttered at the thought of engineering a nap under the trees at the boundary. So far there had been a few shy kisses, a bit of cuddling in carefully organized situations so they could pretend it was an accident, and a rather embarrassing incident in the bathroom that had truly been an accident, so their failure to capitalise on it was understandable. Draco was studiously avoiding thinking about having the serious talk - the one they needed to have about the war and things, their intentions and other stuff. He wasn't sure what he wanted from Ron, but knew it would have to be more than an affair; his feelings were already much more involved than that. Ron was just so- alive. And so warm and open and everything he should despise as being transparent and simplistic. And they had history that needed to be dealt with; Draco knew it. For the moment, however, he was perfectly content to let things slide. It made him vaguely uncomfortable; it was very unexpected in a Malfoy, after all, but he enjoyed the sweetness of the moment. He shook himself and finished dressing. He wondered if Ron would like the dark grey t-shirt he'd chosen.

Ron liked the dark grey t-shirt very much, thinking that it made Draco's eyes turn smoky. He ran his eyes down Draco and back up. Draco offered him a hand up from the sofa, and Ron didn't let go immediately when he was standing, and fiddled with the edge of Draco's t-shirt with his other hand.

"I like that shirt," he said shyly.

"Thanks," responded Draco. "What have you been doing this morning?" It was a running joke between them about Ron's love of early mornings. Ron thought it was not prudent to respond "fantasising about you", so returned a noncommittal answer. They strolled over to the door, still holding hands. As Draco pushed the door open, Ron pulled his hand to his lips for an instant before letting it go. Draco turned a delicate shade of pink; something that Ron had discovered was a standard reaction to any display of sweetness or sentimentality, and one that he enjoyed exploiting.

"I thought we could pack a picnic lunch and take it with us this morning," he said. "I have something urgent to do this morning, so I won't be able to leave until ten. We won't get back in time for lunch." Ron hoped that Draco would not suspect that the urgent task was a fabrication designed to ensure that they had to lie on the grass under a tree somewhere. Draco was too busy feeling relieved that he did not have to come up with a flimsy excuse after all to feel any qualms about whether Ron was telling the truth, and would merely have felt pleasant surprise that maybe Ron was not such Gryffindor after all, if he was capable of such subterfuge.

Breakfast started quietly. Severus Snape had complimented them on the good job they had done on his dungeon, but had not mentioned his night in Ron's room or the visit he received from Harry and Hermione, though it was observed that a smile had been hovering round the extreme corners of his mouth during breakfast, watching Harry and Hermione battle hangovers and all the torture that Ron and Draco could devise. Severus also stayed discreetly silent on the scene he¡¯d interrupted on the floor of the common room. This morning Draco and Ron seated themselves near Severus and began eating. The usual rush of owls, much diminished without the students, came in, and two owls dropped a box in front of Ron and Draco. Ron reached for it with trepidation. Hagrid had sent a package that had to be sedated before opening just last week. As he stretched out a hand, the ribbon on top untied itself from the bow it was tied in, releasing a shower of silver and red stars all over Draco and Ron, and magically enchanted words, reading "to the Weasley Malfoys" hovered in the air over them.

"Oh, no, they wouldn't-" breathed Ron to himself, watching the ends of the ribbon sway. He made a snatch at the box, ready to run out of the Hall, but it was too late. The box exploded in a shower of cardboard and wrapping paper, leaving a number of suspicious objects scattered all over the table. Curious professors reached out for them, and Ron groaned inwardly, turning a fierce shade of red. Severus fished a large, pink, phallus shaped object out of his coffee. It began to whirr in his hand, and the look he directed at Ron would have melted him into a puddle of humiliation just a few years ago.

"How interesting, Weasley," he purred, "I thought that deliveries of this nature came in brown paper."

"Not when they come from his best friends," said Draco, holding out a letter to Ron. Ron was momentarily distracted by the fact that Draco had gone red, something he had never seen before. In the background he could dimly hear a chorus of exclamations and explanations (including a jovial "Well, how useful" from Dumbledore that he really didn't want to hear), but he focused on the letter.

"Dear Weasley-Malfoys," he read in an undertone, "don't you think that has a nice ring to it? A few years ago, of course, it would have Slimy-Malfoy, or That-Git-Malfoy, but we think that Weasley sounds better." He put the letter down. "I am going to kill them," he announced calmly.

"Well, this is an enlivening turn to our usual breakfasts," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling as he observed a small, fish-shaped object seemingly trying to eat it's own tail as it gyrated in circles. "What is it?" Draco and Ron smiled small, sick smiles.

"A joke," offered Ron at last. "Harry and Hermione think these things are funny."

"Really? What does this one do?" He pointed at a two small clamps with rubber-coated teeth, joined by a silver chain. The clamps themselves seemed to be quivering and slightly gnashing their teeth. Ron gulped. He really did not want to explain nipple clamps to Albus. In fact, he did not want to even think about nipple clamps near Albus, because the effect was highly unsettling. One part of him wanted to imagine Draco writhing naked on the bed while he tugged gently on the securely attached clamps, and the rest of him found the presence of the Headmaster as effective as a cold shower.

"I really have to go," he said. Draco agreed. They pushed their chairs back, retrieved all the equipment (some of the teachers were reluctant to give them up), and walked from the Hall as calmly as they could, given the murmuring and speculation that had broken out behind them.

"I'm going to kill them," repeated Ron, and Draco nodded fervently. They took all the stuff to their rooms, dumping it on the table near the window. They looked down at it, both secretly thinking about the good use to which it could be put.

"I'm sorry," said Ron at last.

"What for?"

"For my friends' sick idea of a joke. If it embarrassed you or made you feel uncomfortable, or made you think that I expected something-" He ran out of words and stood in painful silence. Draco turned to him to see him still blushing. He reached out and took Ron's hands, turning him to face him. His hands ran up Ron's arms to his shoulders, and he stepped forward and pressed his lips against Ron's. The kiss was gentle and tentative, and they soon broke it off. Draco looked up at Ron.

"I am more embarrassed by their timing than by the contents," he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. In fact, a few of them look quite interesting." Ron smiled, and slipped his arms around Draco.

"We need to talk, you know," he said, as he leaned down to kiss Draco's lips.

"Not right now, though," replied Draco firmly. They kissed with passion this time, lips sliding against each other as they found the perfect fit, tongues exploring and breath mingling. Ron's hands found Draco's hips and pulled them together. Draco felt hot all over, and dizzy. He started to unbutton Ron's shirt, licking and kissing the flesh he exposed. He felt Ron's breath hitch unsteadily and nibbled on his nipples. They staggered backwards to the couch, Draco straddling Ron. Ron's fingers twisted in Draco's hair, and their mouths met again. Their lips were desperate and needing, and Draco had only a few thoughts in his mind, the main one of which was to get Ron out of his clothes as quickly as possible and to run his hands and mouth all over his beautiful body, to taste it and mark it and claim it. He slowly pulled back to look at Ron underneath him. His eyes slowly drifted open, dark blue and lustful, his hair was messy, his shirt unbuttoned. Ron looked up into Draco's face and rolled his hips upwards, forcing their erections into contact. Draco watched as Ron¡¯s mouth fell open, his breath coming in needy little whimpers, and Draco thrust down hard. Ron bucked against him.

"Oh, gods, how I want this-" he breathed, his hands running up Draco's shirt. Draco was mesmerised by the sight beneath him, and thrust down again. This was sweet and painful altogether, and Draco loved it. Ron bit his lip, and thrust up. They ground their pelvises together, and Draco jerked Ron's head back to taste his throat again.

"Boys, you forgot-" The cheerful words died as Viridian Tuft walked in, holding up a forgotten item from their box. Draco and Ron nearly fell off the couch. Viridian coughed.

"I'll just put it on this chair, here, shall I?" she said, and slipped out of the room. Unlike Severus, Viridian was a gossip, and Ron and Draco knew that what she had seen would be all over the castle in minutes. Ron leaned his head back against the couch, and Draco resisted the urge to simply continue with what they'd been doing. Instead, he climbed off Ron's lap and walked away.

"So, I'll meet you at 10 at the castle doors, OK?"

"OK."

They needed time to think.

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