Size Matters

Size Matters

Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter (a.k.a. the Boy-Who-Lived), made his way down from his dorm to the Gryffindor common room; books tucked under one arm and chess set under the other arm. Although he had promised Hermione Granger that he'd get started on his homework that evening, he was really hoping to find someone who felt like being trounced by the resident chess champion. Now in his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, worthy opponents were getting very hard for Ron to find. The most he could hope for was an hour or so of mildly entertaining amusement before utterly defeating his victim. He wondered if Ginny was around and in the mood for a game. "Pretty bloody pathetic if my biggest challenge these days comes from my baby sister," he mused to himself.

Ron made his way over to his favorite corner of the common room. At first dismayed that the table was already occupied, he grinned at the sight of his messy-haired, bespectacled friend sitting, bent over his parchment and surrounded by books.

"Oy, Potter," called Ron, happy to see that Harry was alone and apparently planning to stay in the common room for a while. The two boys were together in classes everyday and in the Great Hall during meals. They also saw each other almost daily in Quidditch practice where both boys played for the Gryffindor House team. However, between Ron's prefect duties and his budding romance with Hermione, he rarely got to spend quiet time with Harry these days. Then of course, there was the issue of Harry's own love life, which had taken a rather bizarre turn in recent months. It was a topic that still induced a great amount of anxiety and despair in Ron.

"Hey," Harry answered, returning his best friend's greeting. "Potions essay," he grimaced indicating the parchment in front of him.

Ron dumped his books and chess set on the table and peered over at what Harry was working on. "That essay's not due till next week! Why work on it now?" he demanded. "Taking a leaf from Hermione's page or something?"

Before Harry could respond, Ron poked him in the shoulder. "Hey! Why are you here anyway?" the redhead demanded. He schooled his eager expression into one feigning concern and sympathy. "You and Malfoy have a fight or something?" he inquired hopefully.

"No," Harry replied tightly. "Draco and I are fine."

Ron winced at his friend's easy use of the Slytherin's first name. This was not something he was anywhere near accepting. It had taken the redhead a full month to adjust to the idea that Harry was dating a boy. Ron was sure it would take several lifetimes before he could stomach the fact that said boy was Draco Malfoy, his Slytherin arch nemesis and biggest pain-in-the-arse.

"What is it?" Harry inquired, warily regarding Ron's queasy expression. "Are you planning to belch up some slugs again like you did in second year?"

"Would it help you to get Malfoy out of your system?" the redhead smirked. At the dark look his friend shot him, Ron shrugged. "Then no, Harry, I'm not planning to belch slugs up anytime soon."

"Prat," Harry muttered. "I thought you were going to try being nicer to Draco."

"I'll be nice when he's nice," Ron retorted. He sat down across from Harry, pulling out blank parchment, hoping his friend would let him "borrow" ideas for his own essay.

Harry sighed. "You both say that, but I don't see either of you putting very much effort into getting along. I'm not giving either of you up, but your fighting gives me a headache."

"We don't fight, mate," Ron returned breezily. "We're bonding out of mutual affection for a certain green-eyed mop-topped midget with bad vision and a scar who hardly seems worth the trouble most times. Ow!" He rubbed his shin where Harry's foot scored a direct hit. "Git. I can't force you to stop dating Malfoy. You can't force me to like him."

"I know, Ron. It's just that I'm starting to feel like the rope in a tug-of-war between you." Deciding it was fruitless to continue arguing with his scowling friend, Harry resumed his work on the essay, peering over at a book from the pile next to him and then scribbling another line on the meter-long parchment. "Draco's down in the potions lab. He's helping Snape with some healing drafts for Madam Pomfrey." He looked up and finally grinned back at Ron. "I told him I'd be doing my homework here with you and Hermione. I miss trying to copy Hermione's homework with you." He looked around. "Where is Hermione anyway?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "In the library tutoring some fifth-years for their O.W.L.s. History of Magic, I think. As if she doesn't have enough to do," he huffed.

Harry smiled and shook his head. It seemed to take Ron forever to acknowledge his feelings for their brainy, bushy-haired friend. And now that he was actively courting her, the redhead resented taking second place to her studies. That, Harry knew, was something they had to work out on their own.

Ron peered over at the books Harry was using for his essay. Frowning at the titles, he picked one up and flipped through some of the pages. "These don't look like library books. Are they Malfoy's?"

"Yeah. Guess Hermione hasn't told you about the Malfoy library collection yet," Harry chuckled. "Draco's books are actually more useful than the ones in the library here at school. More interesting and unusual too." He shoved his essay over to his friend since Ron was already craning his neck at an odd angle trying to read it. "I actually had to kick Hermione out of Draco's room the other night. She was having way too much fun going through all of the books he has. It was getting late and Draco was getting...um...sleepy."

"Uh huh," Ron smirked. "Malfoy. Sleepy. Right. And he was just waiting for Hermione to leave so you could tuck him in and read him a story, I'm sure." He rolled his eyes again, this time at his crimson-faced friend. Turning to the parchment in front of him, he stared at Harry's finished essay. "Done already???" he gaped.

"Yeah. You think Hermione's a slave driver when it comes to homework. Try taking on Draco, especially when it comes to Potions. He checks my homework regularly now. Says he doesn't want Snape picking on me more than necessary."

"And how much is necessary?" Ron scoffed. At Harry's shrug, he continued reading. "Wow. This is pretty good. Actually sounds like you know what you're talking about."

"As if!" Harry snorted. "Told you Draco's books are better than the ones I find in the library. Snape will still pick it apart and mark it low, but at least it's the right potion and the right length."

"Foul-tempered bastard, that one," Ron smirked. "Guess he's not going to treat you any nicer, is he?"

Harry shook his head and snickered. "If anything, Snape's been worse towards me since Draco and I went public. He was totally against the whole idea of us being together. Gave Draco a bit of a hard time over it. Plus, the greasy git seems to think that I'm distracting his star pupil."

"Well, aren't you?"

"As often as I can," Harry replied, blushing slightly. Ron made gagging noises. "Well, you asked," Harry protested innocently.

"I wasn't expecting you to agree," Ron said, grimacing distastefully. "You're supposed to deny any insinuation that you and Malfoy do..." he swallowed, "...stuff to each other. You're the icon of hope and purity for our wizarding world, remember?"

"It's a little late for that, Ron," Harry said dryly. "I left purity behind with denial." He glared at his friend who was making loudly exaggerated choking sounds. "Well, what do you think Draco and I do all evening? Hold hands and drink tea?"

"Leave out the handholding part and I could stomach a spot of tea as an acceptable activity for you and Malfoy."

"I'll be sure to tell Draco that the next time he wants to snog. I'm sure he'll thank you for the idea."

"You're traumatizing me now, mate. Do not put Malfoy and snog in the same sentence."

"Well then stop being a prat," Harry muttered, pulling out yet another length of parchment. "I'd better get a start on McGonagall's essay," he murmured thoughtfully.

Ron looked up from Harry's potions essay and frowned at him. "You're turning into a bloody brain yourself. Why all this sudden enthusiasm for homework?"

"Saturday is all-day Quidditch practice. And on Sunday, Draco and I have to spend a good part of the day at Malfoy Manor. Some kind of charity social thing his mother is hosting. I won't have time to do this over the weekend and it's all due on Monday."

"Oh. Right. The busy whirlwind life of Witch Weekly's hottest young couple." Ron assumed a bored expression on his face. "Quite tedious for you, I imagine, old chap."

Harry snorted. "Don't even mention that rag to me! Most everything they print are lies and the rest are twisted versions of the truth. None of that has changed any."

Ron chuckled. "If you hated the enormous publicity you get from being Harry Potter, you're not exactly helping yourself by dating the heir and scion of the infamous and ever visible Malfoy dynasty."

"I know, I know. I wouldn't go to this gawking fest either but Draco says us making an appearance after all that sick publicity in the newspapers will actually help the St. Mungo's Orphans Healing and Placement wing. Lots of rich, nosey celebrity seekers will be at the event with their bulging galleon purses."

Ron knew what a soft spot Harry had for orphans. Apparently, Narcissa Malfoy knew that too. "So is Daddy Malfoy overjoyed about his son's boyfriend making an appearance at one of his parties?" he inquired.

Harry sniggered. "Daddy Malfoy is still in denial about us actually. Believe it or not, Draco and his mom haven't told him about Sunday yet. We're just going to show up like it's a spur of the moment surprise. I'm kind of shocked that Mrs. Malfoy is playing along in this, but I guess it's important to her for this event to go well."

"Smart," Ron admitted. "Less chance for Malfoy senior to plan anything with his Death Eater buddies." He frowned at his friend. "Still sounds kind of dodgy to me. Are you sure you'll be safe?"

Harry shrugged. "Snape is going to be there as well as a few other members of the Order," he replied, referring to the group lead by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore in their fight against Voldemort. "The Minister of Magic is supposed to make an appearance too. Dumbledore seems to think that Lucius Malfoy would not risk the bad publicity of a Death Eater attack at a charity event like this. Plus Draco plans to keep us moving about all day to avoid being easy targets."

"I still don't like it, Harry."

"I know, Ron. But Draco and I don't plan to hide in a closet forever. And Dumbledore did give his approval for us to leave Hogwarts for the day."

Not wanting to spend the evening arguing with his friend, Ron focused his attention instead on re-wording Harry's potions essay for his own parchment.

Two hours, three essays and a Charms chapter later, both boys leaned back in their chairs. Ron rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I can't believe I did the WHOOOLE thing!" he exclaimed. He sat up. "Hermione will sure be happy with me!" The thought brought a goofy grin to his face.

"Whoa! Down, boy! Don't celebrate yet. Our brainy halves haven't dissected and scrutinized our efforts yet." Harry laughed at Ron's crestfallen face.

"Thanks, Potter. I felt good about myself for ten whole seconds. And please don't refer to Malfoy as your other half. That's just so wrong."

"Well, at least I gave you ten seconds. Draco and Hermione won't give us half a second's worth of false ego stroking. And I'll refer to Draco in whatever fashion I want, with or without your approval."

"I know, I know, I know! On both counts. Stop being so reasonable! I liked it better when you whined and complained about homework with me."

"When it comes to homework, whining and complaining works as well with Draco as it does with Hermione. So I had to stop. Flattery and flirting works better."

"Oy! TMI! Too Much Information, Potter!"

"Sorry, Ron. I'm only sharing with you in case you want to try that with Hermione."

"Hmph. I'll think about that. Except somehow I don't think Mione's that easy."

"Easy? You think Draco is easy???"

"Er...no offense meant, Harry, but Malfoy makes sure we all know how...uh...horny he is."

"Ron! I'm not talking about THAT! I'm talking about acting sincere, and helpless! People with big egos love helping those of us in need of their brilliance."

"Harry! Hermione doesn't have a big ego!!!"

"Uh huh."

"Well...maybe...sort of...a bit...oh, sod it all. Stop it! I'm not going there. Let's talk about something else!"

"Okay, Ron. Whatever you say."

Ron slumped down and glowered at his grinning friend. He suddenly sat up again. "I do have something I've been wanting to ask you."

Harry stopped grinning and regarded the redhead warily. The tips of Ron's ears were starting to redden. Not a good sign.

"It's kind of personal so don't snap my head off. Okay, Harry?"

"I sort of guessed that. I'll think about leaving your head where it is after I hear your question. What is it, Ron?"

Ron leaned forward in his chair, folded his hands in front of him on the table and looked very intently down at his hands. "Well..." he began. He unfolded his hands and then folded them again. "Remember that question Seamus asked you...?"

"You mean the one where I did snap his head off after he asked?"

"Uh...yeah. That one."

"The one that I later found out almost all the guys here in Gryffindor laid bets on?"

"Er...yeah. I didn't bet anything, you know. I told Seamus you'd be pissed."

"You're so smart, Ron. I WAS pissed. And the guys were bloody lucky I didn't tell Draco about it. Slytherin retaliation is still nothing to take lightly."

"I know, I know, I know! Blimey, Harry! Simmer down. It's just you and me here, okay?"

"Why are we talking about this then?"

"I didn't bet anything or even talk about it with anyone. I don't intend to. But I do have my opinion on what the answer is." Ron squirmed a little in his chair, face and ears flaming as red as his hair. "I just want to know if I'm right." At Harry's stony-faced response, he added, "I'm not going to tell anyone! Like I said, it's just you and me. I promise I won't tell Seamus, Dean or anyone else."

Harry glared at Ron's hopeful, sincere face for a minute, then sighed resignedly. "You get so freaked out and homophobic when anything remotely related to sex comes up. I guess I'm surprised you even think about stuff like that."

"Hey! I'm not thinking about the sex, you know! I prefer not to. I don't like to think about Malfoy that way."

"So, how DO you like to think about Draco, Ron?"

"Shuddup, Potter, and answer the question."

"Please tell me this is not a Gryffindor versus Slytherin thing with you."

"Uhhmm..."

"Ron!"

"You're stalling!" the redhead growled.

Harry sighed again. "First tell me what YOU think the answer is. Then I'll tell you if you're right."

"Very smooth, Harry. Get me to say it instead of you."

"It's your question, Ron. Not mine."

"Okay, okay, okay, okay!" Deep breath. "I think your pe-...pe-...uh...piece is bigger." Another breath. "Both longer and thicker." Exhale. "So, am I right?"

"I'm touched. Your faith and loyalty in my...assets is truly remarkable."

"Forget the sarcasm, Harry. Am I right?"

"Sorry, Ron. You lose."

"WHAT????"

"Stop looking like I missed the snitch. It's not like you've lost a bet, right?"

"No! I told you I didn't bet! But...but...but...awwh, Haaaarryy! Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. Knowing Draco and me like you do, don't you think we'd notice something like that from the off? It's not a HUGE difference, but enough for me to have to admit it's there. Besides, size doesn't matter. It's what you do with the equipment that counts and I don't hear any complaints from my other half."

"TMI again, Potter!"

"Stop whining then! Are we done?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Pause. "How about some chess?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Sure, Ron. You know, you really should challenge Draco to a chess game. I think he's dying to play you. He's quite good, too."

"Yeah. Well, if he is dying to play me, HE should challenge ME. Anyway, I don't play Slytherins. They cheat."

"What's wrong, Ron? Scared of Draco now that you know he's *bigger* than both of us?"

"Oh, shut it, Potter! Stop smirking like that! You look like Malfoy when you do! And how the hell would YOU know how big I am?"

"Quidditch showers, Ron. Plus we're in the same dorm. I'm not that blind."

"I'm sorry I asked that question now!"

"You should be. But I'm not. This has opened up a whole new vista of conversation for us. What else do you want to know about my sex life?"

"Ack! TMI!! TMI!!"

Snickering wickedly, Harry grinned at his spluttering crimson-faced friend and turned his attention to getting his arse whipped once more on the chessboard.

Fin