Pieces of a Hogwarts Pie

Hogwartian Pie

Episode 2: Ron Weasley and the Flag Pole Sitta

"Harry," whimpered Ron as he darted his blue eyes to his left, to find that the seventh year Ravenclaw Terry Boot was staring at him. Upon meeting Ron's eyes, he smiled and winked at him.

Ron turned back forward with pale horror and tried his best to discreetly get Harry's attention.

It was a cold day in Professor Snape's dungeon, which was of no surprise to Ron, Harry or Hermione, for it was always cold in Snape's dungeon, especially after winter. It had been a small consolation that, for the first time since Ron had been at Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore put the Slytherins with the Hufflepuffs in potions for the first time.

Ron never thought he'd live to see the day that he'd trade the Ravenclaws for the Slytherins.

"Harry..." he whispered in terror.

Harry glanced quickly over to Ron, while Snape seemed engrossed in his lecture. "What, Ron?"

Ron met Harry's emerald green eyes with terror, and nodded sidelong toward the Ravenclaws. "He's... staring at me... and winking at me..."

Harry shrugged. "Well, Ron... you did snog him."

Ron felt his cheeks grow green again from sickness. "But... no I didn't!"

"Look," said Harry, in a factual tone. "Ron, if you want to keep your self control at these parties, you gotta learn to drink with moderation, mate. Heck, I even had to bat you off! Thankfully, Millicent grabbed you up before you overpowered me."

Ron went from green to pale again, his freckles standing out on his nose. "No... way..."

"Ron," said Harry with true concern. "Have you ever given thought to the fact you might be... I mean... underneath your impenetrable wall of stubbornness and jealousy... do you think you might be a..."

"Harry, question," said Ron, cutting off his best friend.

Harry blinked.

"Do you like heat?"

Harry shrugged and then shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Keep that in mind," said Ron, pointing to the bubbling cauldron next to him. "Because if you finish that sentence, I will dunk your head in there."

Ron suddenly felt an impact upon his left shoulder. Before Harry could respond, he looked down to the ground and found a ball made of crinkled parchment on the floor, by his sneaker.

"Now, if someone could," Snape was saying, "please tell me the key ingredient for the Phobia Potion..."

With a hum of consideration, he picked up the parchment and began to unravel it.

"What's that?" asked Harry, looking over.

There was indeed writing on the wrinkled paper.

Ron

I'm sorry if I am freaking you out, but I've really not been able to stop thinking about you since Halloween. I cannot forget the curves of your body, the way your hips sort of angle in... nor the passionate snogging session. Let's get together tonight at seven, in the Charms room to talk.

Love,

Terry

"Holy Dementer Ichor!" screeched Ron out loud, his voice leaping three octaves, while Harry tried his best not to laughing, and failed miserably as he fell out of his chair in a frenzy of chortling.

Snape looked up from his lecture and stared at Ron, with a totally alien voice. "Dementor Ichor... right... um... five points for Gryffindor." Snape then smiled cruelly. "But, five points for speaking without raising your hand. We will call it even, Mr. Weasley."

When Snape realized that Harry was on the ground of the dungeon, laughing himself hoarse, however, and Ron was lurching forward as if he'd spill his lunch upon the floor, he suspected something, however.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley," stated a domineering voice from the front of the classroom. By now, the two figures commanded the undying attention of every Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seventh year. "What is so funny and revolting at the same time?"

At once, Harry stood back up while Ron made a furious grab at the parchment that had dropped on their lab table out of shock and fumbled it behind his back.

"Nothing, sir," rasped Ron, his cheeks flaming purple.

"What was that?" asked Snape critically.

"Homework, sir," replied Ron, crinkling up the paper with terror.

Snape was unconvinced. "Bring it up here."

Ron's eyes widened with horror. "I... no. I cannot do that!"

"How much do you weigh, Mr. Weasley?" asked Snape critically.

Ron looked down at his shoes. "About seventy five kilograms."

"That is how many points Gryffindor will loose if you say 'no' to me again."

Ron looked to Harry who simply shook his head. In a low voice, he spoke. "Take the point loss... trust me, it'll be less severe."

But, Ron, being brave and dutiful to the end, would not see Gryffindor blow their House Cup over this. With a groan and a whimper, he stood up, and walked to the front of the class.

He handed Snape the note, from which, of course, he began to read from aloud.

"... the way your hips sort of angle in... nor the passionate snogging session..."

Snape dropped the paper to the desk, as the entire room was, by now, brought to tears. Seamus, Dean and Neville were on the floor laughing, while even Terry seemed to be beaming proudly at the letter he had written.

Snape's eyes gleamed over, reminding Ron of a war veteran who was reliving painful flashbacks. It was a mystery to Ron, but apparently, according to Seamus, Snape had been the one who found Terry and Ron in the bushes awhile back.

"Class... dismissed..." said Snape in and alien voice, as he whimpered and raced into his private office and slammed the door.

* * * * * *

"Hey, thunder hips! Thanks for saving us from Potions!" cried out Dean exuberantly as Harry, Dean, Seamus and Neville raced after Ron, who clutched his Potions book to his chest with a look of violated innocence upon his face.

"Oh, stop fleeing, my passionate lover!" mocked Seamus as he cupped his hands together and fluttered his brows.

Ron whirled on Seamus. "Speaking of passionate lovers, what was that rumor about you making frenzied love to yourself, and holding a picture of Malfoy's mom?"

Seamus flushed red. "That was Pansy Parkinson's rumor... she's still mad that I turned her down to the Yule Ball."

"I was wondering why Malfoy's mom in that picture had gorged out her eyes with the hot pokers by the fireplace," said Dean, smirking to Seamus, making a jerking motion.

"Jerk this," grumbled Seamus as his middle finger shot up into Dean's face.

Harry simply laughed while Neville remained silent, neither laughing, nor trying to draw attention to himself in any way shape or form.

The five boys found themselves in the Great Hall for lunch. They plunked themselves at the head of the Gryffindor table, and prepared to eat some lunch.

"So hey," began Harry arbitrarily. "Who are you taking to the Yule Ball, Dean?"

Dean smirked and withdrew a parchment from his pocket, filled with about ten names. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me narrow it down. All of these tasty females asked me."

"You male-slut!" gasped Seamus, upon seeing the sheer amount of names. "And, erase my mother's name from that list... very funny."

Dean laughed wickedly, but did in fact cross of Ophelia Finnigan from the list. "Just keeping you on your toes, mate."

"Alright, selection committee... please cast a vote for yay or nay," began Dean professionally. "Abbot, Hannah!" he called out to the table.

"Yay," said Harry. "She's cute, smart and very kind."

"Nay," said Ron. "She's a Hufflepuff. Too inexperienced for you."

"Yay," voted Neville, who shrugged a bit. "She was about the only one who didn't mock me after the Durmstrang Champion incident."

"Nay," mumbled Seamus, though he refused to elaborate.

Dean looked at Seamus. "Don't tell me you stole her underwear as well?"

This brought a scowl to Seamus' face. "No, but I was going to ask her to the ball!"

Dean held up his hands, "Only cause you're my mate, and I got nine others to choose from," he said, as he looked back to the list. "Brocklehurst, Mandy!" he called out again.

"Nay," said Harry shaking his head. "She's a real witch. Hedwig has a better personality."

"Yay," countered Ron. "Don't really know her, but rumor has it she keeps a Philippine Packet of Pleasure in her underwear draw... she'll give you a good run."

"Yay," muttered Neville, "she did not mock me too bad after the Durmstrang Champion incident."

"Yay," agreed Seamus. "She isn't Hannah Abbot, or my mother."

Dean smirked and circled the name on the list. "Very good... Brocklehurst has made the preliminary cuts. What about you, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I was thinking about asking Parvati, but... er... well, she never really forgave me for the time Hermione jumped me while we were both drunk, and I didn't put up much resistance."

"That's one way of putting it," said Neville shyly. "Another way would be to say she threatened you in a way You-Know-Who never has..."

All five boys shuttered and Ron could not help but feel a tightening below his waist at the thought of Parvati's words.

"So," said Harry, a bit coyly. "I'll probably just go with Hermione... she'll wind up jumping me anyway, so might as well not cheat on someone at the same time. Committee say?"

"Yay."

"Yay."

"Yay."

"Yay."

Harry nodded. "Unanimous then... I'll ask her today." The Boy Who Lived then turned to Neville. "Your up, Neville."

Neville, to everyone's surprise, smiled with a sort of timid pride.

"She asked me..."

Dean and Seamus both dropped their jaws.

"Longbottom," demanded Dean, his voice serious. "You better be talking about Seamus' mom... because you certainly don't mean..."

As if by coincidence, the Durmstrang group entered the Great Hall. Ron distinctly caught the Durmstrang champion, a drop dead gorgeous Russian woman, waving to Neville, who coyly waved back.

"YAY!" cried out each of the boys at the same time.

Seamus buried his face into the palms of his hands. "Is this world unfair, or am I doomed to always be sold short?"

Dean smirked. "You will always be short, Irish inch."

A well-placed middle-finger in Dean's face was his reply.

"And, with Seamus and Ron respectfully batting clean-up here, and Seamus without any prospectives," said Dean professionally, "we will move onto the red-headed wonder."

Ron flushed an angry shade of red. "Bulstrode, Millicent."

"NAY!" barked out Harry, nearly loosing his lunch. "Hagrid could find you a better date from his monster horde!"

"By Merlin, NAY!" cried Seamus, "You are still a young man, Weasley! Don't do that to yourself!"

"Nay, nay, nay!" said Dean, shaking his head furiously. "Just... ugh... picture the kids if you two hit it off!"

"Nay," agreed Neville. "She made fun of me a lot after the Durmstrang Champion incident."

"Unanimous then," murmured Ron. "Just who am I going to go with?"

Seamus glared at Ron mischievously. "You could always ask that Ravenclaw cutie pie..."

"Seamus," said Ron factually. "Do you really want to wear that beef stew on your head? If so, say his name."

"Terry Boot, huh?" came the reply, causing Ron to grab up Seamus' meal... and nearly hit him with it, before he realized that it wasn't him who spoke. It was no jesting, Irish accent in front of him, but a drawling, aristocratic accent from a voice behind him.

Draco Malfoy stood behind Ron, with Crabbe and Goyle flanking his sides as always.

"Malfoy, maybe you should get lost before I give you another half-brother," muttered Seamus angrily.

Malfoy narrowed his gray eyes at Seamus. He subtly made a jerking motion with his left hand, and smirked maliciously. "Go take a shower, Irish inch."

"Well, Champion Malfoy," said Harry, turning around to see the Hogwarts Champion, "Can we help you find your way back to the Slytherin table, or can you do that yourself?"

"Oh, come now, Champion Potter," murmured Malfoy with a smirk. "I just came over to wish Weasel luck on his new relationship. I think they are perfect for each other."

Ron glared at Malfoy and stood up. "If you are talking about Millicent, I'll kill you. If you are talking about Terry, I'll kill you.

"If you are talking about my mother, I'll kill you..." added Seamus.

"In fact," continued Neville, with a smile. "You are going to have to work very hard to stay alive."

Harry smirked, joining in. "Got that, Malfoy?"

Dean smirked. "... cause if you don't, he'll kill you."

Malfoy raised his upper lip in amusement. "Good movie, for a Muggle one."

"Yeah," agreed the five Gryffindors, harshly.

"Wizard or not, if you haven't seen Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels," said Dean sagely, "you are letting the best part of life pass you by. Now, why don't you just pass us by Malfoy... or we'll kill you."

Dean smugly waved at him.

"Oh, Mr. Thomas," said Malfoy, "I would... but I promised Lavender I'd have lunch with her today. I'm sort of going down the list of Gryffindors right now."

Dean glowered at Malfoy. "I've got nine names... beat that, richboy."

"Oh, you neophyte, Thomas," said Draco, with a bored drawl as he withdrew a parchment and unraveled it.

To even Harry's shock, it rolled down all the way to the floor with what must have been over two hundred names.

"Being a Malfoy, a drug dealer, and the Daily Prophet's #1 most sexiest Tri-Wizard Champion of the twentieth century earns you a lot of prospects. But anyway," Draco straightened his collar. "Brown, Lavender."

"Yay," said Harry. "Lavender was cheering Parvati on when she threatened me, she deserves you."

"Yay," said Seamus. "For reasons stated."

"Yay," agreed Neville. "For reasons stated."

"Yay," nodded Dean. "She deserves to be knocked up by the biggest lowlife in the school."

"Yay," concurred Ron. "No doubt you found out about Terry Boot from her. Knock her up for me."

Draco nodded to that comment. "Your mind serves you where your wallet fails you, Weasel. Unanimous then?"

"Aye," replied all the boys.

Crabbe then blinked his eyes, and to everyone's shock, began speaking. "Nay."

Everyone looked to Crabbe, with arched brows. Ron had never heard Crabbe speaking before.

"Alright Crabbe," said Draco with a roll of his eyes. "Explain."

Crabbe tilted his chin, lifting his flabby chin with almost an elitist air.

"In earnest, Draco, I really have to query the logistics of your faulty assessment. Meeting a woman for an innocent lunch with the sole intension of winning her heart, only to step on it in the future does not strike me as a time worthy indulgence. In fact, these are the sort of traumatic stories that, years from now, will stand out profoundly to these impressionable seventeen-year-old girls; these incidents scar them for life. Now, I have no reservations in my mind that she has wounded Harry Potter very deeply, in both words and actions. But come now Draco, you simply do not know the length of your own social arm and the strength of inspirational hammer. If you use this poor girl, it won't be her you will hurt, but it will be the spirit of every female that calls Hogwarts home. Sure, Draco, I pose and debate we are Slytherins: But is the very nature of being a Slytherin a well based and founded nature in itself? Do we not have our limitations on the cruelty we will sow in this world? I, for one, have sown the seeds of evil and spread enough hate to fill two lifetimes. Now, I look back on my dastardly work over these past seven years, and can see nothing but a void, filled with guilt that spreads over me like rays of a cursed sunshine, every waking hour of every day. I look at who I have become, and I don't like it."

Crabbe grabbed Draco's stunned shoulders.

"Draco, my best friend, don't follow the same path as me. Make something out of your life, or Merlin be damned, I will need to know why we have been friends for all this time... if you are going to throw away decency in favor of malice."

No one spoke; no one breathed. Goyle scratched his head and stared at Crabbe stupidly. Ron could hardly believe what he had just heard.

"Wow..." said Dean, breaking the silence first. "I always thought you were stupid."

Malfoy shook his head. "No, he just thinks that if he acts stupid and quiet all the time, when he has to speak, everyone will listen to him. He has a good, sound theory."

Crabbe grunted and chortled trollishly.

"Have anything to add, Goyle, or did Crabbe sum it up well?" asked Harry, with two arched brows and a look of pure confusion on his face.

Goyle put his finger to his lips, as if trying to think of something.

Draco shook his head. "Don't try... Goyle really IS that dumb."

Ron, despite Draco's presence, finally caved in. "Guys... you didn't hear the last part of the letter since Snape ran off to his office for a good cry... Terry wants to meet me tonight... in the Charms room."

His friends, and even Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, winced with sympathy.

"Well," suggested Harry. "Maybe you should go... sort of put the thing to rest."

Ron frowned and looked down at his plate.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, I mean... just 'cause he's a sausage jockey doesn't mean he is stupid. Just tell him you don't... swing that way. He'll understand."

"But, Dean," chipped in Seamus. "He... did... snog him."

Ron flushed mad red, while Malfoy sniggered at Weasley's embarrassment.

"This is what I think you should do, Weasel," began Malfoy airily. "Talk to Granger. She has a gaydar like a flamer in Northern Wales... if you don't show up, smack Terry upside the head and leave it alone. If you do, hey, snog him again. You really can't get more shammed... you already did it once."

With that, Draco and crew left, leaving the Gryffindors in a bit of stunned surprise.

"That has got to be the first time he's come by and actually contributed something," stated Harry.

Seamus rolled his finger around his head. "The Intoxicates Charm... he's become a drug addict. Makes him more mellow."

"How do you know that?" asked Neville, arching his brow.

Seamus stared at him critically. "Last week, he tried to sell me the spell components to enchant my wand with it..." with that, Seamus lifted his chin, pointed up his face. "... How do you think us Maaalfoys got to the top of the social food chain. We aren't exaahtly the March of Dimes."

"Tried?" asked Dean with a suspect glare.

Seamus smirked. "Well, fine, he succeeded. I happened to be having a rough day."

Ron sighed deeply, not liking the direction this was going at all. "So you guys think I should meet Boot tonight?"

"Yay," said Harry, "I think its time you found out your sexuality for sure."

"Yay" nodded Seamus, "I would like to know if my dorm mate... swings that way... for reasons of nervous tension."

"Yay," agreed Neville, "Terry actually sent me fan mail after the Durmstrang Tri-Wizard Champion incident... he's a nice guy."

But Dean narrowed his eyes. "Nay, Weasley... have some damn self-respect. Do you think we want to know if... you are a homosexual? How... how could we look at you the same way?"

Ron glared at Dean. "Dean... damn, all of you... I'm not gay! I was practically passed out when Terry jumped me!"

Dean looked at Ron critically. "Look mate, you've already made up your mind. I'm the only one who said 'Nay', and you bit off my head. You WANT to see Terry..."

This caused Ron to flush something horrible. "I... I just don't want you guys thinking I'm gay! I guess... I do want to meet Boot and tell him myself."

Harry saluted him. "Well, tonight then, go meet him. Whatever happens, you'll still be my best friend."

Ron looked at Harry, with a smile. "Well... er... thanks Harry."

Harry raised his finger. "This does not mean you can jump me at the Yule Ball... should you turn out to be a swinger."

As quickly as Ron's smile had worked itself onto his face, it had faded. "I'm NOT a swinger!"

With that, Ron stormed out of the hall, with frustration clearly on his face.

Harry sighed and looked back to the table. "Selection Committee... is Ron in denial?"

"Yay."

"Yay."

"Yay."

Harry nodded and frowned. "Unanimous decision... good luck Ron."

* * * * * *

After a rather enthusiastic DADA class, Ron and Harry walked out laughing. Their new teacher, Professor Quartz, was one of the most interesting Professors to ever take the job, next to Professor Lupin.

"Harry," stated Ron as they began to head back up the tower.

Harry looked back to him. "Yeah?"

"Can... can you come with me tonight?" asked Ron, with a bit of hesitation in his voice.

Harry arched a brow. "Why? This is between you and Terry."

Ron sighed. "I... I don't know. I guess, no matter what happens tonight, everyone is going to think I snogged him again. If you are there, you can at least back me up and say that I'm not gay."

"Ron," said Harry, with a laugh. "Do you really think I care if you are gay or not?"

Ron stared at Harry critically, causing his friend to falter.

"Ok, fine," mumbled Harry, "maybe I do... I will come along."

Harry and Ron both paused in front of that Fat Lady, who asked them for the password.

Ron and Harry both sighed, but Harry spoke it.

"Sex is Life."

The Fat Lady nodded, "Indeed it is," as she swung open.

"We really need to talk to Hermione," muttered Ron. "This 'sex-ed' for all Gryffindors program, while being a big hit with Professor McGonagall, is just... not right."

Harry nodded. "I agree."

They entered the cozy, Gryffindor Common Room, to find that Hermione, Parvati and Lavander were all sitting at the same table together.

Harry sighed. "Oh, great... Parvati is over there. I was going to ask Hermione now, but, eh... " Harry's will suddenly faltered. "I don't think she'd 'approve' of me asking her in front of her."

Ron suddenly smirked and called over to the table. "Girls, Malfoy is taking a bath... if you hurry, you can spy on him."

A loud shriek ran out from all of the girls in the Gryffindor common room, and everyone of them, save Hermione, nearly trampled the two boys as they rushed out in a mass exodus to the Prefect's bath.

"Slick one, Ron," said Harry, with no small amount of respect.

Ron grumbled. "I hate to feed that kids image... but it was a necessary evil."

Hermione huffed angrily and, as Ron and Harry approached, appeared to be coming the book in front of her with great interest.

"I don't know what they see in him," snapped Hermione angrily.

Harry shrugged. "Well, you dated him for a year, didn't you?"

Hermione slammed the book shut. "Yes, until I Lisa Turpin confessed she slept with him... a Ravenclaw of all people! Like being a prefect and Head Girl is not enough... he needs an 'old wise Ravenclaw'."

"Hermione," said Harry factually. "You want to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Hermione shrugged wearily. "Well, I guess I'm going to jump you anyway, regardless of who you go with, so sure, why not."

"Great," said Harry, "glad that's settled."

"So, Ron," asked Hermione, her face now alighting with interest. "Are you and Terry formal or what?"

Ron moaned with resignation and stared at the ceiling.

"He's going to talk to him tonight, at seven," supplied Harry.

Hermione smiled brightly. "Ron, if you need to know how to lock and load him, I can give you a tutorial... I am quite skilled in this respect, just ask Neville."

Ron looked as thought he was about to be sick.

"Hermione," he said pleadingly. "I'm ... not ... gay."

Hermione simply smirked and put her head back in the book. Ron suddenly paled with horror.

"Ask Granger... she has a gaydar like a flamer in Northern Wales..."

"... right?" added Ron, desperately.

Hermione simply smiled. "Hmm."

"Hmm?!" exclaimed Ron, his face becoming lined with panic. "What does 'hmm' mean!"

"Ron," said Hermione with an obvious grin. "If you weren't gay, you wouldn't be so flustered now, would you?"

Harry swallowed nervously and took a step away from Ron.

Ron gasped and shook his head. "I'm flustered because no one is giving me the benefit of the doubt here!"

Harry took a step back toward Ron, as if feeling guilty.

"Ron," laughed Hermione. "I love you to death, but face the facts... you snogged Terry at the Halloween Party, and you are furiously trying to prove to me you... aren't gay. Sorry, Ron, but the gaydar is going off like an alarm."

Harry took two steps away from Ron.

"Think what you want," snapped Ron bitterly. "But, I'm not gay!"

Hermione sighed and lowered her book. "Alright Ron, you want my opinion on what you should do... gay or not?"

Ron lowered his head. "Fine."

Hermione smiled. "Snog him sober."

Ron could feel his face turning an ugly shade of green. "Hermione!"

But, Harry nodded as well, seeing Hermione's logic. "Well, there isn't any more solid proof than that," explained Harry. "If you snog him, and retch, you aren't gay... if you loose yourself in the moment, you are... either way, at least you find out for sure."

"Ugh," muttered Ron, puffing out his cheeks. "What if I retch now? Does that count?"

Hermione licked her lips. "I'd call it nerves."

With that, Ron grumbled incoherently.

* * * * * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione (she had, for some reason, been very instant upon coming) left the common room. Harry had his invisibility cloak tucked under his arm, for there was still no reason to have to sneak about, as it was not after curfew yet. Ron had insisted that they bring it, however, so Harry and Hermione could hide and 'survey' Ron's performance.

"Now..." exclaimed Hermione. "You cannot just peck him on the lips, or you'll never know. You might have just pulled back out of fear of us knowing the truth."

Harry looked thoroughly disgusted, but it did not hold a light to the way Ron looked.

"Hermione," gasped Ron. "You... want me to kiss him... French style?"

Hermione nodded expertly. "It's the only way we will know for sure."

"I'm going to retch, here and now," whimpered Ron.

The trip down to the Charms Room was uneventful, and soon, Harry and Hermione threw on the Invisibility Cloak and faded from view.

Ron, strengthening his resolve, but nonetheless feeling sick, turned the handle of the door and entered. He could sense that Harry and Hermione had followed him in, and were now settling in the corner of the room.

The Charms classroom was empty and dark, lit only by the moon shining through the skyroof. Ron felt relieved that Terry wasn't here.

Perhaps he thought I wasn't coming tonight...

"BOO!" suddenly cried out a voice, as the door shut behind Ron with a click.

Ron nearly leapt out of his skin in shock. Thankfully, his yelp covered Hermione's own cry of shit, and Terry just did not seem to hear the sound of someone's head hitting the wall in the classroom.

Terry had jumped out from behind the door. The Ravenclaw boy with long brown bangs that flowed down to his pointed nose, smiled at Ron. Hermione had once said that he was good looking enough to have his sexuality be quite a waste.

I guess she was right, thought Ron, who suddenly spat at the thought.

"Er..." stammered Ron, who took a step back. "Hi... Terry."

Terry smiled and pushed his very low-riding hair from his eyes. "Hey, Ron. I'm glad you could make it tonight. You seem a bit tense about this whole thing."

Terry took a step forward, keeping the space between them constant.

Ron took another step back. "I... yes... um... did you realize I was barely conscious when you jumped me at the Halloween party?"

Terry took another step forward. "You had had a few, I'm not saying you didn't... but so had I, mate. And, for the record, you jumped me."

"I did not!" exclaimed Ron, now leaning forward.

"Did so," stated Terry bluntly, getting in Ron's face.

"Did NOT!" bellowed Ron.

Terry suddenly pulled his head back. "You are funny when you are angry."

Ron groaned and stepped back, though, this time, he wasn't as lucky as he back pushed up against the wall. "Look, Terry... bottom line, I'm not gay. Look, I'm sorry... er... if I was gay, I'd be a lucky man, but I'm not..."

Terry stared at Ron quizzically. "Not gay? Are you kidding me? Are you really this stuck up in denial?"

"Hey, look!" snapped Ron, pointing a finger forward. "Apparently, when I get drunk, I do a lot of stupid things... fine, maybe I did jump you drunk... I don't even remember it! Everything I learned... about us... I got from second hand sources!"

Terry scowled at Ron. "So, why don't you tell me what you are doing here, then?"

Oh god, please make this end quick, begged Ron internally.

"Look, Terry... I... er... um..."

Terry rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "You want to snog with me sober, just to see for once and for all."

"Ehh..." murmured Ron faintly, as if begging for another solution to present itself, but in the end, he lowered his head. "Uh-huh. How did you know?"

Terry smirked and nodded to the corner. "You have a noisy audience, Weasley. Hey Potter, hey Granger."

"Hello Terry," replied the sour voice of Hermione as a groan that could only belong to Harry echoed out as well. "We were just leaving."

"I'm sure you were," said Terry with a smile as Harry and Hermione removed the invisibility cloak and left the Charm's room, now leaving Ron feeling more exposed than ever.

"Alright Ron," said Terry. "You sure you want to do this?"

Ron groaned, realizing now that there was no witnesses... no one to validate that he was about to hate this.

"Uh-huh," replied Ron weakly, as he puckered up, his lips twitching with nervousness. "... Hermione said... er... French style..."

Terry cocked his head. "Indeed?"

Ron closed his eyes and his body began to shake. He looked very sick. "Uh... huh..."

"By Merlin, Ron..." said Terry with a shake of his head. Ron opened one eye nervously. "You obviously don't want to do this... either you aren't gay, or you are in such denial you've convinced yourself you aren't."

Ron opened his other eye as well. "That's the whole point of this... I..."

Terry nodded, blinking his brown eyes. "You want to know for sure..."

Ron sighed and sat down at a desk in the room. "Yeah..."

Terry snickered and sat down at the desk next to him. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Weasley... being gay is not so bad. People only hate you if you rub their faces in it."

Ron looked to him with an arched brow. "Huh?"

Terry suddenly limped his wrists, flicked his hair back, and blinked his eyes sweetly. He spoke with an irritating, high-pitched lisp. "Oh, come on now, Ronald... you don't undersssstand what it meanssss by playing the role, sunshine?"

This, indeed, rocked Ron back. Terry recomposed himself, a snarl upon his face.

"That's the sort of crap that gets the 'true' flamers panned and gives homosexuals a bad name," muttered Terry. "Hell, I'll join the homophobes in beating the snot out of those people. It's like a straight guy, dressed in thick leather and an 'I love women' shirt on, screaming 'I'm a Hetrosexual'... they are both queers and should be given the Killing Curse."

Ron shrugged. "I guess I never thought about it that way..."

"There are two kinds of homosexuals, Weasley," explained Terry. "The faggots/flamers, and the homosexuals. Faggots and flamers walk the streets in their skimpy, revealing robes and smother everyone in their sexuality. Any beating they bring upon themselves is well deserved."

Terry continued to speak. "And then, there are homosexuals... people who simply like guys because... they like guys and were born that way."

Ron nodded. Perhaps it was strange, but Terry was making a lot of sense to him.

"Terry, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," said the boy with a shrug.

Ron licked his lips nervously, but felt less tense around Terry. "When did you know for certain... that you were... homo... er... gay."

Terry smirked. "Spring, last year."

"What... made you know for sure?" continued Ron.

Terry chuckled and sighed. "Oh, I guess I can tell you. I dated Malfoy, last year."

Ron felt his entire world suddenly turning upside down... and all he could do was laugh hysterically. "For... real?"

Terry nodded, a laugh breaking through as well. "Lisa covered for me. She thought I might not want my secret public. She said that she was sleeping with Malfoy instead. That helped explain Malfoy's trips to the Ravenclaw Common Room." Terry lowered his eyes. "I had no idea that Malfoy was seeing Granger behind my back... I guess he sort of betrayed us both."

"She sacrificed her reputation for you?" asked Ron, with a wide-eyed expression.

Terry nodded. "I would have done the same for her in a heartbeat. She's my best friend."

"Seriously... Malfoy's bi?"

Terry became serious. "I don't think so," explained Terry. "Malfoy, if anything, is one of the most secure people I've ever met. He suspected I was gay and told me that he had doubts... he wanted to experiment, and see for sure. Apparently, he liked fooling around with Granger more, though."

"Oh," said Ron, as if not sure what to say. "It must have been hard... how do you know for sure... if someone is, or isn't?"

"Play the odds," laughed Terry. "You do realize that about one in ten people are gay."

Ron's eyes widened with nervousness. "Really?"

Terry nodded. "According to the statistics, there are still plenty of people in our year who are gay."

Ron sighed and rose from his chair. "Look Terry, thanks for talking to me... you cleared up a lot of questions I had. I... guess there is only one thing remaining..."

Terry shrugged. "Ron, it's totally up to you. I don't want to force you into something you don't want to do..."

Ron again sighed. "Neither do I... but, if I don't do this now... I'll spend the rest of my natural life wondering."

He puckered up slowly, but managed to keep his body from shaking this time.

* * * * * *

"So, what happened?" pressed Harry, that night, as the five boys gathered around the table, joined by Hermione.

Ron sighed, rubbing his lips. "Well, we talked... and..."

Seamus and Dean both shuttered. "And? And...? Oh god, there is an 'and'!"

Neville slapped both of them upside the head. "Guys, shut up."

"We... er... decided to try an experiment."

"I certainly hope it was a Charm experiment," whimpered Seamus.

Harry and Hermione both remained respectfully silent.

"You snogged him, didn't you?" groaned Dean, burying his face into his hands. "I knew Merlin would strike me down for being so vain... now I have to live with a flamer."

"Dean," said Harry firmly. "Shut up, or I'll kill you myself."

Ron glared at Dean. "To answer your question, yes, I did... I wanted to know for sure."

"And?" pressed Seamus, now seeming strangely into this discussion.

Ron shrugged. "I still don't know."

Dean gawked with stupefaction. "Still don't know? This isn't exactly advanced Arithmancy... you either liked it, or you didn't..."

Ron looked at Dean. "I liked it."

"Then," pronounced the dark skinned boy. "You are a flamer!"

Ron maintained his glare on Dean. "What part of, 'I still don't know' does not register. Even though I liked it, if I'm still in doubt... how can I say one way or the other?"

Harry then laughed. "Ok, so now, you want to snog a very attractive woman."

Ron nodded. "Exactly."

"Oh," muttered Dean disdainfully. "I can just hear the line: excuse me, I think I might be gay... can you snog me so I can know for sure?"

Hermione glared up from her book. "It's better than the Dean Thomas: 'I have thirteen inches of Yew, suck me, beautiful' line."

"I only used that one time, Hermione," snapped Dean. "Time will tell on that one."

"Mmm," muttered Hermione. "I think Parvati would snog you Ron, to get back at Harry."

Ron blinked. "Really?"

Harry frowned at Hermione. "Oh, no offense taken, in case you were wondering."

"Sure," said Hermione as she looked over to see Lavander and Parvati, talking by the fire. "I'll be right back."

With that, Hermione set her book down upon the table, and stalked over to join the other two Gryffindor girls. Ron watched as she knelt down next to Parvati's chair and whispered something into her ear.

Parvati gave her a very strange look and rose, walking over to the table, drawing confused glances from everyone. She glared at Harry coldly for a minute, and smiled evilly.

Before Ron could open his mouth to greet her, she knelt down, grabbed his head and smothered her lips over his.

It was over before Ron even realized it. Before he could check himself, he blurted out. "Wanna go to the ball with me?"

Parvati, again, glared at Harry deviously. "Why, sure, Ron Weasley... and yes, I can promise you... if you manage to resist Millicent Bulstrode or Terry Boot, you will get laid that night. I reward loyalty in my boyfriends..."

Seamus and Dean both scratched their heads like monkeys while Harry returned Parvati's glare with a sarcastic, condescending smile and nod of his own. Neville simply stared at the scene with wide-eyed shock.

With that, Parvati ran her hand across Ron's face and went back to the fire, as Hermione skulked backed over, a very high and proud expression upon her face.

"Hermione!" gasped Harry. "What... what did you tell her?"

Hermione picked up her book and began reading again, in a show of aloofness. "Oh, I just told her that you and Ron had a fight. She decided the best way to get back at you would be to snog him here and now, in front of everyone, and promise him intercourse in front of you."

"I like her way of thinking," stated Dean approvingly.

"Well, Ron?" asked Harry, who stared at his best friend dourly. "Parvati or Boot... I think it's the question we've all been waiting to have answered."

Ron smirked slightly. "Parvati, if you don't mind, Harry."

Harry shrugged, not pretending it did not feel awkward for his best friend to be dating his ex. "Well, I'm happy to know you aren't gay at least."

Ron chuckled deviously. "I didn't say that."

Neville cocked his head in confusion. "But... you chose Parvati."

"Right you are, Neville," said Ron, holding up his finger. "But, then again... she promised sex. Terry didn't."

Seamus and Dean both rushed out of the room; heading toward the bathroom, while Harry and Neville both laughed themselves hoarse.

* * * * * *

A/N:

Another bout of insomnia; another piece of the Hogwarts Pie. This is the closest I'll likely ever come to writing a Slash fic... I have to admit, it was sort of fun, but sorry Slashers, I just could not bring myself to write the Ron/Terry make-out scene. I figured the safest thing to do, both for myself and those who dislike Slash like me, was to just sort of omit it and say it happened.

For those who didn't catch it, the scene with Malfoy and the threats on his life was a scene from Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels... a must see for British comedy.

Finally, for those who are curious as to why I chose the title, Harvey Danger just happened to be on the play list right when I was thinking of a name. I think its self-explanatory, anyway. I've decided that all these little episodes will be about a different character each time. Next is likely going to be Seamus Finnigan... I think we are all curious to find out if all these little rumors about him are true.