Chapter 20

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Harry wished he knew why he felt so... well, he didn't know how to describe it, exactly, but he didn't care for it.

"Hey, mate." Ron loped up beside Harry. "Heading for dinner?"

"Er, yeah." Harry glanced up and saw that he was near the Great Hall.

"Great. You, um... you all right?" Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable, as he tended to when attempting to offer any type of emotional support.

"I'm fine."

"Oh. Good. It's just that, you know, Neville came back to the tower a little while ago – looks mighty proud of himself, too," Ron chuckled. "And we know that you had your class and that, er..."

Harry sighed. "Yes, Ron, what's your point?"

"Just that we hadn't seen you, so we were wondering if you were... all right."

"And I've said I am, so can we just drop it?"

Ron shrugged. "Fine by me, but Hermione's already in there and you know she won't let it go so easily."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that I know."

"Do excuse us, Potter," said a snide voice behind them.

Harry turned to see Blaise, Pansy, and Draco approaching. "There's very little excuse for you, Zabini."

"How original, Potter," Pansy spoke up.

"Hey, Potter, I was wondering if you've got a cushion or something for Draco here. Though I suppose he could use a charm..." Blaise tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"What are you on about?" Draco snapped.

"Well, I figured that since your boyfriend here surely gave you a good seeing-to in class today... might be a bit painful for you to sit on those hard benches, yeah?"

Draco reddened, and Harry noticed his jaw twitching when he glanced at him. "Not that it's any of your damn business, but it'll be me needing the cushion tonight, not Malfoy."

"Oh?" Blaise raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well done, Draco."

"Like I need your bloody approval." Draco crossed his arms and looked bored. "If you'd like to stand out here and stare at the Golden Boy and his witless sidekick all night, be my guest, but I'm hungry so I'm going in." He brushed past Blaise and headed into the Hall, Pansy trailing after him.

Blaise watched him go and then turned a malicious smile on Harry. "So the wizarding world is all aflutter about the Boy-Who-Bottoms. What a turn of events."

"Leave him alone, Zabini," Ron hissed.

"So Weasley can speak. Too bad. Well, Potter, I suppose you'll want to get going. Though I have to ask – how did it feel to get fucked by a Slytherin?"

"Absolutely fantastic, Zabini." Harry grinned widely. "But you would know, wouldn't you? As concerned as you are about the state of my arse, it sounds like you know exactly what it feels like afterward."

Blaise growled. "Fuck off, Potter."

"Not until Wednesday, I'm afraid. And I'm sure I'll find myself in the same position then, if Malfoy has anything to say about it." Harry plastered a rueful expression on his face.

Ron grabbed Harry's arm and hauled him toward the Gryffindor table. "You actually let Malfoy... you know... put his... really?"

"Perhaps you should be taking the class, Ron, since you can't seem to come up with the right words. You did know that we were going to be having actual intercourse, yeah?"

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