Gentlemen's Agreement

The day had started out normally. Well, pretty normally. The increasingly twitchy behaviour of Ronald Weasley had been disrupting Gryffindor all morning and one of the Hufflepuff fourth years had woken to find his eyebrows missing (his dorm mates, who had removed them earlier that morning, were now teaching them to dance the Tango down the breakfast table). Oh and a couple of Ravenclaws had spent most of the night in a broom closet. Originally to do some important ahem... 'revision' but then mainly to avoid being caught out of bed by Filch. But for nearly everyone the day had started out normally. Satisfied now?

Just before breakfast was due to finish (to the great relief of those sat near Ron. His shaking was now so bad that it was rattling the crockery and causing people to shoot accusing glances down the table, where Fred and George's vehement denials of having anything to do with it were being met with the usual scepticism) the not-so gentle sounds of a thousand children eating were broken by Draco Malfoy rising to his feet and casting a Sonorous charm on himself.

"Your attention please, Ladies and Gentlemen." His magically amplified voice boomed across the Hall.

"What do you think the arrogant little so-n-so is up to now?" whispered Harry to Ron, heartened by the fact that his best friend had stopped quivering like Gilderoy Lockhart faced with a hoard of rampaging pixies. Then Harry actually caught sight of Ron's face. It had achieved the kind of calm usually only seen on the faces of those who have just enjoyed a good Last Meal, smoked a Last Cigarette and refused the offer of a blindfold.

"I would like you all to be witnesses to a 'Gentleman's Agreement'," Malfoy continued, "between myself and Mr Ronald Weasley." The silence in the Great Hall was so thick the House Elves could have cut it up and cooked it for lunch but it was eventually broken by Ron standing up and giving Malfoy an acknowledging nod.

"In return for my silence on a certain matter Mr Weasley agreed to perform a small task for me, to be decided at my discretion. Well, I have decided: if Mr Weasley is still agreeable to our terms?" Malfoy paused and looked significantly at Ron, who just nodded. He appeared to be doing a world-class impression of someone who'd just had a piece of Hagrid's treacle toffee (it had to be an impression. Ron hadn't eaten anything all morning).

"My task is," Malfoy paused, savouring the moment as something sweet and rare, then enunciated carefully, "that you facilitate the victory of the Slytherin Quidditch Team in their match next Saturday." He smirked and managed the almost impossible feat of sitting down with a swagger.

If the previous silence could have done for lunch, this one could have provided tea, supper and breakfast the next day. Ron, immensely glad that his quota public humiliation was filled for the day, gathered his dignity about him like a robe and sat down. This seemed to have been some unofficial signal because all at once the entire of Gryffindor was shouting.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, Ron?!"

"He can't be serious, Ron! You can't be serious!"

"The MATCH, Ron! NOTHING'S THAT IMPORTANT!"

But it seemed Ron was still trying out his treacle toffee eating impression.

*************

"AND MALFOY'S GOT THE SNITCH!! I DON'T SODDING BELIEVE IT!! MALFOY'S ACTUALLY BEATEN HARRY POTTER TO THE SNITCH!!" Lee Jordan turned quickly, obviously expecting some sort of retribution from Professor McGonagall, but the look of stunned disbelief on her face showed that she didn't sodding believe it either.

Malfoy coasted down to the ground on a wave of Slytherin jubilation. Screams and cheers filled the air as a crowd of green swarmed onto the pitch, all desperate to personally congratulate the (currently) most popular man in their House. Eventually the euphoria paled enough to allow a chasm to open in the jubilatory crowd between the conquering Slytherin hero and the disconsolate Gryffindor team. Ron was at its head, still wearing the slightly stricken look he'd had all match. This sight seemed only to add to Malfoy's triumph and he laughed out loud.

"How unfortunate, Weasley. All that effort and it seems you've failed!" Confusion reigned over those assembled and Malfoy, seeing that his crows of glory were falling on deaf ears, hurried to explain.

"Our agreement was that you facilitate Slytherin's victory. Well, we seem to have won the match all on our own, you didn't help one bit!"

"Oh, didn't he?"

The heads of the assembled swung round, rather like those of spectators at a game of tennis, to seek out this new voice. Malfoy turned to vent the full force of his ire on the one who dared to detract from his moment of victory and watched as Harry Potter pushed his way through towards him.

"What's wrong, Potter? Are you stuffed so full of your own self-importance that it didn't even occur to you that I was capable of beating you to the Snitch without help?" Malfoy tossed the little golden ball into the air and then caught it in a crushing grip.

"Malfoy, if I remember it rightly, while I'm on the pitch, you couldn't catch a Snitch if it hovered beside your head!" Harry tossed back. Malfoy's face creased with outrage but Harry had already turned on Ron with a face like thunder.

"Ron Weasley, you bastard! You complete and utter BASTARD!" He reached out and grabbed the collar of Ron's robes, pulling him in. The rest of the Gryffindor team rushed forward, prepared to drag Harry off if necessary but were halted dead in their tracks by what he said next. With his lips only an inch from Ron's face he whispered the immortal words:

"Have you ever tried to ride a broomstick with a hard-on?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he lunged forward those last few millimetres and crushed his lips against Ron's.

This silence was perhaps quite the most impressive of the whole week. It felt like the whole world was stood still, its jaw hanging somewhere around its knees. Finally, Harry broke the kiss and looked up at Ron through his eyelashes.

"Now, Mr Weasley," he said in a voice that made up in venom what it lacked in volume, "you are going to finish what you started RIGHT NOW or I'm going to have to kill you."

Ron gave a nervous, and slightly lustful, grin.

"Right... now?" he said, looking significantly down Harry's body and then up at the surrounding students. Harry gave a growl that would have made his House mascot proud, grabbed Ron by the hand and dragged him off in the direction of the changing rooms.

"Well," said Fred, after the pair had been gone a couple of minutes, "looks like Ron did hold up his end of your agreement then, Malfoy."

"Yup," agreed George, "our Seeker was distracted, by Ron, thereby facilitating your victory."

"I did think Harry was walking a bit funny, at the beginning of the game," added Katie, with a thoughtful look on her face.

"I'm surprised he wasn't walking funny at the end of it!" said George, with a wince

Malfoy said nothing. His mouth was still wide open and his eyes were bulging. Angelina, taking pity on him, leaned forward and pushed his jaw shut.

"Cheer up, Malfoy, you won."