Fic: No Hiding Place book Three: The Cottage (9/28)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Three: The Cottage (9/28)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Three: -Does being a good guy mean you also have to be a nice guy? Draco is about to find out. Companionable silences and fist fights are a good way to hide deeper emotions.
Warning: This part contains mild violence, explicit sex between men, confusion about sex (not non-con really!) and as you can guess, angst.

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

Part 9

Sunday morning dawned grey and windy. The sun was obscured by dark clouds that would undoubtedly bathe the cottage with rain any minute now.

Draco groaned as he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of the sky from the window. He shouldn't be surprised by the ghastly weather, but seeing the rainclouds made him miserable anyway. So it would rain again. He just hoped he'd have the chance to go and get the laundry in before it started.

The thought made him jolt up. Yes. The clothes. He'd left them to dry as he'd dragged Weasley back to the cottage.

It hadn't just been a weird and twisted dream.

Since he knew there was no way he could fall asleep again, Draco got up. He wasn't used to waking up early, preferring to laze in the bed for hours if he had nothing better to do, or if he had some company. Now it seemed that he couldn't sleep all that late anymore, not even on weekends, when he'd rarely got up before noon.

Of course the fact that he didn't stay up till the wee hours might have something to do with it. There were no parties or exhausting company here. Only hard work and studying, that drove him to bed a few hours after dinner.

He felt light headed as he pulled on his old robes and ran a comb through his hair. Had to be because he'd last eaten at lunch yesterday. His belly confirmed his suspicions by letting out a loud growl a moment later. What a strange sensation. He couldn't remember ever really being hungry. The heir of Malfoy had never had to go without food and drink.

Pushing the thought away, he left his room in search of breakfast.

It was all quiet when he sneaked down the stairs. None of the portraits were awake yet, so there were none of the usual greetings. He had no idea of what time it was, especially since it was grey and misty outside.

Hopefully there was still breakfast. He had suspicions that Eppy would happily carry the food away a few minutes after serving it if they didn't appear in the kitchen in time.

Draco was smiling slightly as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Then he froze, his eyes going wide as he stared into the living room, gawking at the men sleeping there.

He'd known Weasley would be there, lying still just the way they'd left him. Seeing him was a kind of relief. It puzzled him; the strange selfless joy of having someone else survive an attack. Especially someone as irritating as Ron Weasley.

The still figure lying on the couch by the window wasn't the thing that shocked him the most. His mind went completely numb as he turned his gaze to the other couch, to the Head of his House and Harry Potter.

Snape was sitting at the end of the couch, eyes closed and breathing evenly. Even in sleep, he looked as rigid and forbidding as always. It seemed as if the couch was larger than it had been the previous evening, big enough to have a man sleep there and even have enough space for someone else to sit there. That was painfully obvious, seeing how Potter was lying there, resting his head on a cushion on one end of the couch, his feet on Snape's lap on the other side.

That made Draco blink. Suddenly he wasn't certain he wasn't sleepwalking. If he was dreaming, this was the weirdest dream ever; not resenting Weasley, imagining Potter drooling into the dark blue cushion while he was snuggled against the most feared teacher Hogwarts had ever seen.

His sudden intake of breath made Snape's eyes snap open. The dark gaze was clear, taking in the situation immediately without hesitations. He looked at the red and yellow striped socks resting on his lap, frowning a little as he realized he was actually still holding Harry's feet. The frown melted away a moment later, making way for amazement in his eyes.

Snape turned his head slightly. Something must have woken him up. He saw Draco Malfoy standing by the stairs looking shocked. It didn't surprise him. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy."

"Er..." It had been some time since Draco's voice had cracked like that. "Good morning, professor Snape."

As if nothing was amiss, Snape pushed Harry's feet off his lap, causing the sleeping Gryffindor to squirm in his sleep and mumble incoherent protests. A moment later Harry turned around and stretched his legs so that his feet were back on Snape's lap.

Draco shivered, knowing something awful was about to happen. There had been times in the Potions class when he'd been certain Snape was a moment from hexing Potter and his friends and had used all his willpower to restrain himself. There was no need for such restrains right now.

It was be probable Potter would spend the rest of his life as a newt.

Sighing as if he'd been expecting for something like this, Snape reached out and shook Potter's leg. "Wake up, Potter." His voice was cold as always.

That resulted in more squirming. Harry turned over again and hid his head under one of the cushions.

Mornings like this were familiar to Snape. He'd usually had to wake the Gryffindor up after going through his morning routines whenever he'd spent the night in the dungeons. At least Harry didn't mistake him for Weasley anymore. "Potter! Wake up!"

After a moment, the cushion dropped on the floor as Harry groaned something and waved with his hand. He was slowly waking up, unable to drift away again.

Harry's gaze was unfocused as he stretched out luxuriously and blinked a few times. Scratching his neck, he lifted his head, wondering where the hell he was. This place didn't seem familiar.

Memories of the previous night enveloped him as he saw Ron sleeping across the room. He suddenly realized he was lying on the couch downstairs. He must have fallen asleep while having a conversation with Snape. That was probably why he'd slept so well, even on a very uncomfortable couch. At least his feet felt warm.

"Good morning, Potter. Now that you are awake, could you please move your feet."

The words made Harry jolt up. "What?"

Draco had an urge to laugh, but he knew that would probably be the last mistake he ever made. Potter looked so stupid sitting there and gawking at the professor. Apparently the Gryffindor didn't even realize he still had his feet on Snape's lap.

It was a wonder Snape hadn't hexed him yet. Draco couldn't even imagine doing something like that, invading his professor's personal space.

"Oh." Harry finally realized what was wrong. Slowly, he moved his feet and then spent a moment searching for his glasses on the floor before sitting cross legged on the couch. He smiled at Snape as soon as everything was clear once again. "Sorry. I hope I didn't keep you up all night. Or kick you or anything."

His mind was a bit fuzzy as always at this time of the day, but he could still sense the odd peace that had fallen over him and Snape last night. It wasn't exactly like back at Hogwarts, but it was close enough for him to enjoy it.

"Eppy has probably served the breakfast already." Ignoring the inquiries, Snape turned back to look at Draco, who was still standing by the stairs as if frozen in place. "We should all get something to eat since none of us had any dinner last night."

It irritated him that he couldn't remember if he'd put a simple preservation charm over the soup kettle yesterday. Exhaustion was something he was used to; it never made him forget things. Seemed like everything was askew somehow.

Realizing that was a dismissal, Draco muttered, "Yes, sir," and padded to the kitchen. Maybe Snape wanted to punish Potter in private and didn't want an audience.

"Your friend will not wake up for some time now, so I'd suggest you follow young Malfoy." Not even looking at Harry, Snape stood up and walked to his room, his crumpled robes billowing limply.

Harry just sat there, scratching his head. It felt like his hair was standing on end, but otherwise everything seemed great. Seeing Ron breathe evenly made him feel almost giddy with relief. For once things seemed to be all right.

Breakfast was good as always. Eppy kept hovering by the doorway, as if waiting for Ron to appear even though she had been told he'd be sleeping through the breakfast. Harry didn't know if her anxiousness was because of worry that Ron wouldn't be all right or because he might actually wake up and come to eat. He never knew with Eppy.

Ignoring the house elf, he munched his toast, trying hard not to grin at Snape every once in a while.

For Draco, the breakfast seemed surreal. He'd been certain Snape would hex Potter, and now he was just sitting there, drinking his tea as if nothing had happened.

No. It was even worse. Potter seemed to be thinking about something amusing, casting weird looks at Snape. And the professor either ignored him or raised an eyebrow slightly, almost encouraging the silly smiles.

It was driving him crazy.

He was confused by the waves of jealousy he felt towards Potter. It was stupid. He had no claims on Snape, his status as the ward of the Slytherin House didn't give him any privileges, not even with Snape's promise to offer him the protection of his own House.

Yet, if he wanted to, he could call himself a Snape now. He had every legal and moral right, for his professor had made his offer in front of hundreds of witnesses.

And here was his guardian, bonding with Harry Potter on levels he'd never thought possible.

Slamming his mug down with more force he'd intended, Draco bit back curses that threatened to escape him. He did not understand what was so bloody special about Potter. People seemed to do stupid things because of him, but he'd never thought he'd see Snape join the Gryffindor hero fan club.

Not that Snape was fawning over him like most of the people in Hogwarts were. He didn't even seem to treat him kindly. There was just something between those two, the way they looked at each other; like they were comfortable together.

Draco wasn't going to even think about what the relaxed sight that had greeted him in the living room meant. He still felt slightly uncomfortable every time he sat on the same couch with his professor, and he never sat close enough to touch him.

Still, he wondered what Weasley would have thought of the whole scene if he'd witnessed it. His perfect friend cuddling with the dreaded Potions master. It was definitely a hilarious mental image, for Weasley would have undoubtedly had a fit.

He had to think of a way to bring that into conversation if possible.

After breakfast, Snape disappeared into the kitchen with Eppy in tow. The old house elf seemed to shiver with the need to scold him, but even she knew when to be quiet.

Harry watched the two go with a smile on his lips. It would be nice to just relax today. Snape hadn't said anything about the exam, so he assumed they'd have a few days to study for it. He couldn't concentrate anyway. As long as Ron was still unconscious, he wouldn't be able to memorize anything Potions related.

The thought made him head back to the living room to keep an eye on his friend.

Since Malfoy had disappeared somewhere, it was quiet in the living room. Harry picked up the cushion that was still on the floor before going to Ron. A smile that had never quite disappeared bloomed on his lips again.

It seemed like Ron was better. Some of the potion had dried off his face, revealing healthy pink skin instead of that awful deadly pallor from the previous night. He seemed to be breathing more easily as well.

Apparently the potion they had brewed -- or Snape had brewed and they had helped -- had worked. He'd never actually doubted the antidote wouldn't be potent, but even Snape had looked doubtful last night. It was a relief to see Ron look so good, but it would be better when he finally woke up.

They'd have to talk about paying attention to their surroundings. The snake hadn't seemed to be hostile, agreeing to help them for a small price. Harry was certain she hadn't bitten Ron on purpose. Having a dead human lying that close to her nest would just bring trouble as all kinds of carrion eaters rushed to feast. It was obvious Ron hadn't looked where he'd been going, probably keeping his attention on Malfoy.

That couldn't happen again. They were all fugitives one way or the other. If it had been Death Eaters attacking instead of the small snake, they could all be dead now.

He would have to talk to Ron about it when they were alone. If he missed the chance, Snape would undoubtedly make a few comments about Gryffindor stupidity sooner or later. This time he couldn't even disagree with Snape. Dropping their guard out here was stupid. It didn't matter who got hurt, they were all important. All lives were and he didn't want to lose anyone.

Harry turned his attention away from his friend as he heard footsteps coming from the staircase. He already knew what he'd see. "Malfoy."

"Yes?" Pulling on his heavy outer robes, Draco didn't bother to even look at Potter. He didn't want to argue this early in the morning. He had better things to do.

"Are you going to get the laundry?" Seeing the curt nod, Harry moved to get his outer robes as well. "Okay. I'll help you." He knew he couldn't let Malfoy go out on his own. It didn't matter that there would be no more danger from the snake. There could be other dangers out there.

Draco looked startled, but didn't say anything. He finished with his robes and then walked to the door. He even waited as Harry went to tell Snape they'd be right outside, even though that made his stomach clench.

It was strange. Not like yesterday, when a promise of violence had shadowed everything he'd done. Unlike with Weasley, the silence was now neutral. Even curious.

They walked to the clothesline and then got to work, neither feeling the urge to fill the silence with inane babbling. Most of the sheets and T-shirts were dry as well as the underwear Draco stuffed in the basket without really thinking what he was doing. The robes were all a bit damp as were the socks.

"I think we'd better take everything back to the cottage." Looking up, Harry could see the dark clouds right above them. "It's definitely going to rain soon."

"I know." For once, there was no sneer evident in the words.

Harry nodded, even though he was pretty sure Malfoy had his back turned at him. He went to put the sheets into the basket and then walked to the bushes for the bright orange T-shirt that was impossible to miss. Seeing the garment in a small heap made him feel a lump in his throat for the first time.

He picked up the soggy shirt, thinking he could wash it back at the cottage and hang it dry in their room. That way it would be waiting for Ron when he finally woke up.

"Um... Malfoy." He hadn't even thought of saying anything to the Slytherin until he heard his own voice. "You probably saved Ron's life yesterday. I don't know if me saying this means anything to you, but... Thank you."

Draco froze as he heard his name, anticipating accusations. The hesitant words stunned him. Was Potter really thanking him? Seriously? He turned around, eyes narrowed in suspicion. This could well be some kind of a plot, a prelude to more taunts.

He saw the serious expression on Potter's face. It wasn't friendly per se, but it didn't seem like he was mocking him either. Instead of making a flippant comment about Weasley, he muttered, "You're welcome." Then he dropped the still damp robes into the basket.

The way things were going was really confusing, and Draco had never cared for confusion. Unless it was on others. At least Weasley and his insane anger was understandable; it didn't make him feel lost, like professor Snape's behavior. The professor seemed to treat Potter almost as if he were... an adult. It was ridiculous, since the Gryffindor was actually the youngest of them all. What could he have done to deserve such treatment?

It started raining a moment after they reached the cottage. The sky seemed almost black with thunder clouds, the world turning hazy with heavy raindrops falling down and lightning flashing overhead.

Shivering slightly, Draco settled on the living room couch that had been turned back to its normal size. He'd felt strange upstairs in his own room. Everything seemed so wild, untamed, the whole world was suddenly raging with violence. He had never really thought about storms and definitely didn't fear them. Experiencing such bad weather while staying in a house that suddenly seemed as secure as a broom shed was something he would have gladly passed.

He tried to concentrate on the book he held, using every ounce of his willpower not to flinch as the lightning danced over their small cottage. The flashes were bearable, but the sound of the thunder made him jump.

It was fortunate that Potter seemed so focused on Weasley, sitting there on the floor next to the other couch. At least now he could maintain some dignity.

The smell of damp cloth was slowly replaced by the warm scent of spices. Draco cast a hesitant glance at the kitchen door. He wondered if it was Snape working in the kitchen. They hadn't seen the professor since they'd returned with the laundry. He'd spread the still damp robes over the railing and doors while Harry had carried piles of dry clothes into their rooms.

He didn't have to wonder about Snape's whereabouts for long. A few minutes later the kitchen door opened and Snape snapped, "Lunch is served," before slamming the door shut again.

Draco was surprised to see that it was indeed lunchtime. The darkness outside made it seem like it was later in the evening, completely disorienting him.

There was no sight of Eppy anywhere. The table was set, deep bowls and spoons surrounding a steaming pot. As Draco sat down, Snape carried a freshly baked loaf of bread to the table. It made Draco blink again, but he didn't dare to comment on his professor, even to say that the soup smelled nice. He simply reached for the pot.

Harry wolfed down his food, feeling ravenous. He for one wasn't at all surprised by the subtle spicy taste of the soup. If a man could excel in making potions, he could probably cook as well as any gourmet chef.

Grinning at Snape, he said, "We should let you cook more often. This is really good." He accented the praise by shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

Snape let out a small grunt that didn't sound completely displeased. "Speaking with your mouth full must be one of your least charming Gryffindor traits, Potter. I would appreciate it if you learned how to swallow before making inane comments."

The smile widened a bit. Not at all offended by the curt words, Harry finished with the last spoonfuls and then reached out for the pot to get more soup. He didn't miss the glint in Snape's eyes, but decided against saying anything more. They both knew he wasn't just complimenting the man for nothing.

Keeping his gaze firmly on his plate, Draco was trying to figure out what was happening here. He'd never paid attention to the way his professor and Potter interacted before. It had always been the same; Potter making heated remarks and Snape reducing House points, with mutual loathing and hatred barely hidden between them. It was different now. Those two sounded like they were old... comrades.

It was troubling. He'd known of the Order of the Phoenix, just as everyone had; had known that Harry Potter was one of the most important members. Now it seemed as if the Head of Slytherin had also been one of Dumbledore's fighters. How else would they be so comfortable around each other?

Draco was impressed. He'd never seen any signs that Snape didn't hate Potter. His father had always sneered at Snape and made scornful comments about him, but even he hadn't suspected Snape of being anything other than what he seemed to be. A simple Potions master who craved power.

He had really been a perfect spy. Of course he had been; he was a Slytherin after all.

Everything they did was supposed to be sneaky and well organized. Draco smiled cynically at the thought. Yes. Unlike his almost Gryffindor behavior in the Great Hall when months of desperation had driven him into something even Snape must see as idiotic heroism.

He chewed on the small piece of bread and tried to push such thoughts out of his mind.

Placing the spoon on the empty plate, Harry sighed happily. "Thank you, Snape. That was excellent." He saw the raised eyebrow and added, "I mean it. The food was great."

"Will your gratitude wash the dishes, Potter?" It was really a rhetoric question. Snape knew that he wouldn't be eager to obey his every wish, like Malfoy.

"No. I'm not volunteering to wash them either. Like I said, I'm not a total idiot." There was laughter in Harry's voice. He felt wonderful. For the first time in a long time, everything seemed perfect, and he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Draco on the other hand was busy choking on his food.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Snape cast a disapproving glance on him. "Please try to..." His voice faded away as a loud crash came from the living room.

Pushing his chair back so hard it slammed into the wall, Harry jumped to his feet. "It's Ron!" Not waiting for any replies, he rushed out of the room. The muffled curses proved that his friend was very much alive. Still, he had to get to him as quickly as possible.

He almost laughed at the scene that greeted him. Ron had obviously tried to get up right after waking up, and had ended up as a messy bundle on the floor. The blanket was slipping, and Ron was flailing with his hands while glaring at Harry.

It wouldn't have been as amusing if he weren't mostly yellow, the dried potion turning even his hair pale.

"'arry! 'elp!" The sounds coming from him were mere croaks, but his gaze focused sharply on his friend. He seemed relieved and stopped the flailing.

Harry couldn't stop the bubbling laughter now. It wasn't simply amusement. He was so damn glad to see that Ron was all right. "Easy there, Ron. You're safe." Walking to his friend, he held out his hand. "Come on. Let's get you back to the couch."

Nodding, Ron allowed him to help him up. He felt really weak. Dizzy even. His mind was a blur. He remembered washing clothes with Malfoy. Then a surge of irritation and a small snake slithering away from him as his ankle started burning.

"Snake! I was bitten by a snake!" The words came out as a mumble, but at least he didn't sound like Hagrid's second cousin anymore. "My foot!"

"It's all right, Ron. That happened yesterday. Malfoy got you here safely and Snape was able to make an antidote to the poison. You're fine."

Ron gawked. Opening his mouth, he sputtered something, but nothing intelligible came out. It almost looked like he was going into a shock again. Finally he managed to ask, "What?"

He couldn't believe what Harry had just said. Malfoy would never get him anywhere safely. The last memory he had of him was shoving him against a tree and ignoring the angry look on his face. And Snape! Well, he could understand him showing off with his skill with potions, but to voluntarily brew something to save his hide? That was highly unlikely.

"You're all right. The antidote worked." It was clear to Harry that wasn't what Ron was asking. "And yes. They did save your life."

Pulling his blanket tighter around himself -- and was he naked underneath it? -- Ron shook his head, totally flabbergasted. "Why would they do that?"

"Because, Mr. Weasley, even with dozens of idiots in my class, I have not lost a student under my care yet," came the sarcastic answer from the doorway.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Ron hadn't really thought Snape would be there to hear his words. He was simply reacting to the strange situation as best as he could, which wasn't all that well. Looking down on the floor, he tried not to show his confusion or fear.

Snape didn't say anything either. He cast a knowing look at Harry before walking to the couch. Telling Weasley what a total idiot he was would be a waste of time. None of his older brothers had ever listened to him, so he doubted this one would make an exception. Maybe his ineptitude was genetic, generations of Gryffindors shaping him into what he was now.

"Lie back." No potions were needed now that Weasley was up. He was quite obviously back to his normal self. Snape needed to check out a few things before dismissing him. The potion was potent and sometimes it caused strange side effects on people.

Ron's eyes went wide. That almost sounded like Snape wanted to examine him. No way. He would rather die. "Huh?"

"You almost died, Mr. Weasley." Explaining like he was talking to a two years old, Snape moved closer. "I need to see if you're all right now. So lie back." He didn't add the 'and shut up' even though it was there on his lips.

Protecting students and other idiots was his duty now. Since they couldn't take Weasley to see Poppy, he would have to make sure he was all right. He might not know everything about snakes, but he did know how his potion was supposed to work, and what signs would show if it didn't.

It looked like Ron was about to protest, but a cough and a glare from Harry made him shut his mouth. His skin was crawling even before Snape put his ink stained fingers on his forehead. The sensation was completely disgusting, but he tried to bear with it.

Harry watched with a slight frown on his face as Ron flinched every time Snape moved and cringed as he touched him. He wondered if such behavior was a residue from the snake's poison. Maybe it oversensitized people.

A moment later he realized that there was nothing wrong with Ron. It was simply the way he reacted to Snape.

Thinking hard, he couldn't remember ever really seeing Snape touch anyone voluntarily. He had helped people up -- grabbing them by the collar and yanking them up -- after collapsing in class. He had restrained Millicent by touching her shoulder briefly that time when she'd tried to attack Hermione. But that was it.

The memory of his hands holding Snape's arm flashed clear in his mind, followed by others. Fleeting innocent touches he'd used to emphasize his gratitude after the man had saved McGonagall's and then Ron's life. His feet on his lap.

Why was Snape allowing such familiarity? Harry had no idea. It was clear that Snape was the most private person he knew. It was a thing he envied. No one ever crowded him or pawed him or invaded his privacy.

Harry blinked. The things he had done were not really invading privacy. At least he didn't see them as such. He would never do that, knowing how precious peace and quiet were to people like him and Snape.

He would have to pay more attention to his actions, to see if Snape didn't actually mind his closeness or if he simply forced himself to tolerate it. He didn't want to be a nuisance. Didn't want to offend Snape like that.

Keeping his contact brief, Snape touched Ron's neck fleetingly. He couldn't feel the lumps there anymore, the swelling gone down already. His antidote had indeed worked perfectly. Not that he'd ever had any doubts on the matter.

He grabbed his wand and then cast a simple charm on the boy to be absolutely certain.

That made Ron flinch again.

At least there was no sight of Malfoy. Seeing him grin in the background would really have ruined Ron's day.

"I know you don't like Potions, Mr. Weasley, but to take such extreme measures to assure that the exam is postponed is completely ludicrous." Glaring at the boy, Snape finished with his examination.

Harry smiled slightly. "So he'll be all right?" It was already clear by the slightly relaxed look on Snape's face.

"Yes. There should be no side effects from the potion. Mr. Weasley here will be able to get up shortly. Eat first, that will help with your recuperation. You should take a bath after eating. Once again I'd suggest you to use a lot of soap." Looking disdainfully at the yellow flecks on Ron's skin, Snape put away his wand. "Don't over extend yourself. No stupid stunts for at least a day. I know it may be a lot to ask, but please try."

With that, he left the room.

Ron watched him walk out, the black robes billowing. Then he turned to Harry, looking incredulous. "Can you believe that bastard? All concerned about his stupid exam!"

Sighing, Harry shook his head. He should have known Ron wouldn't hear the slightly teasing note in Snape's words. "He was joking, Ron. You know? A joke. Saying something funny."

"Yeah. Right. Snape made a joke." Ron rolled his eyes.

Sometimes Harry could be so damn blind. Must be because of all the time he'd been forced to spend with Snape in super secret meetings or something.

Harry decided to drop the matter. "I'll get you something to eat." He was certain the soup was still warm. It was better not to tell Ron that Snape had cooked; that would just make him splutter and make rude comments. "Then I'll take you to the river. Let's stay away from bushes and snakes for a while, okay?"

"Yes, mother." Sticking out his tongue, Ron leaned against the cushions again. He sniffed the air, noticing the alluring scent wafting from the kitchen. "So what are we having for lunch?"

---

Comments

[nicholsa.livejournal.com]

cute! Ron is still a prat though. :D

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Heh, I really doubt that will ever change. :D

[duskspoken.livejournal.com]

Draco's reaction to seeing them in the morning was PERFECT!!!

I love the way Ron was when he finally woke up, yeay! btw for that, it was just the perfect reaction for Ron to have. :)

I love this story so much, it's got to be my favorite. :)

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

I feel kinda sorry for Draco. He must be so confused right now... Ron is a total dork and always will be. :D

It's really nice to hear you like the fic! *dances*

[yura-slash.livejournal.com]

*groans* oh ron, when will you learn?

^_^ great chapter again. off to read the next one! (and don't forget to let me know if you need a beta)

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the poor boy is quite... Stupid.

:)

And yeah, I'll keep the beta offer in mind; the story isn't even half way through yet.