Sex God

All my brothers are sex gods. I know, it's a hell of a way to start my little tale, but it's the truth. I didn't know why I got skipped in that department. Women always found them irresistible and totally amazing in bed. I didn't even know until last year when I started getting out to clubs. People would recognize me, the hair, and tell me about how they boffed Bill or whomever, quite happily, probably wondering if I could ride them so well.

The answer was no. I couldn't. I was not a sex god. I was a pathetic excuse for a sexual partner. I knew because that was the truth.

I'd lost my virginity sixth year to a girl whose name I shall not mention. Luckily, she had the goodness in her heart to not tell anyone I was a flop. I liked to blame it on my lack of coordination or my lack of skills, but it wasn't that. I was just a bad lay.

Unfortunately, I didn't escape this pressure to improve my sexual skills when I left home. The entire school seemed to be completely sex-charged this year. I just couldn't handle it. Harry and Hermione were conveniently sneaking off to it every chance they got. The Slytherins took it upon themselves to explain all their escapades in horrid details. Loudest of all was Draco's many conquers on random French women whom he'd met on vacation this summer. The Ravenclaws took a more scientific approach to their conversation, with no less detail. Even the Hufflepuffs were getting into the action.

I was thoroughly and wholly depressed at the entire thing. "Dammit all," I murmured. The common room was practically empty. Everyone was off in a corner, screwing.

"What is it, Ron?" Hermione asked. She had been giggling and flirting mercilessly with Harry. It just didn't make any sense. I'd seen Harry naked and I knew he was no giant in the below-the-belt department. And I was well-endowed, quite well-endowed. Better endowed than any of the Gryffindors, Neville pulling in second if you can imagine.

"Nothing," I answered absently. Hermione went into a long fit of giggles. I could see their legs under the table where we were supposed to be working on homework. They were playing footsie. Nothing new here.

"Well, Harry and I are going to do some… studying." Oh, was that her best excuse? I didn't reply, but they left without looking back. God knew where. I gathered up my books and trounced upstairs, wishing there was someone I could talk to who wouldn't laugh at my affliction.

It wasn't that I couldn't get dates. I always had some girl or other asking me out. And it wasn't that I refused dates, because I never did. Unless she was horrible. And we went out, and we had fun enough for a boring date. But it was about the time we started kissing that I got tense and nervous. I really didn't like it, kissing any of the girls I had. They were boring and all interested in stupid things. Girl things.

Girls were boring. I just didn't know what any man saw in them. Except for, you know, breasts and whatnot.

I went into our dorm, thinking dark thoughts. Seamus was probably out slamming my first girlfriend with actual results, which pissed me off. Dean and Susan Bones were a hot couple. Merlin, everyone in my dorm was getting laid except me!

I spotted Neville, sitting in the middle of his bed, reading a book peacefully. He was probably enjoying all this peace. With the school teaming with nothing but sex, everyone left him alone. I could definitely talk to him.

I plopped down on his bed, glancing at the book. Many lurid images of people in strange positions looked back at me. "Merlin, Neville!" I barked.

He smiled sheepishly and closed the book. "Hi, Ron."

"What is that thing!?" I asked, pointing at the book.

He glanced at it, as if he just noticed he'd been reading it. "Oh… well, it's a sex manual, I guess."

"Who are you having sex with?" I questioned with more venom in my voice than necessary.

Neville looked slightly hurt and slightly embarrassed. "No one you know." His voice shook. He was lying, and I'd find out.

"Well, it's not Parvati, it's not Lavender, it's not Hermione," I ticked off. "It's not any of the Hufflepuffs in our class because they're all accounted for. All the Gryffindors in our class are taken."

"I told you, it's no one you know."

"You can tell me. I won't tell."

"I'm not worried about you telling," he murmured. His face had gushed to red, and he looked like he swallowed a bug.

"Neville!" Just then, my sister came in, looking perky. I frowned at her. She was most definitely wearing a padded bra. And tight jeans? "Oh, hi, Ron."

"Merlin, Ginny!" I spat horrifically, jumping off Neville's contaminated bed. Things were clicking into place. "You look like a slut!"

"Oh, that's mature!" she barked, putting her hands on her hips. "What do you want, anyway!?"

"I live here!"

"Come on, Neville."

"Yes, go fuck somewhere else!" I replied, dramatically throwing up my hands. Ginny was not pleased by this comment. She opened her mouth to scream at me, but I beat her to it. "I'll bet Mum'd like an owl about this!"

Her eyes widened, but her look dared me. She grabbed Neville's hand and dragged him from the room. Neville brought the book. I shivered to think.

And now you see what I'm getting so worked up about. Just add to the fact that I'm sexually repressed and insecure. I never dreamed I'd have penis envy over Harry. Or even that bastard Malfoy.

Snape was late to Potions. Unacceptable. Doesn't he know I need him to be there to silence all the declarative whispers and kisses and squeezes and girls giggling and boys bragging behind their backs? The whole thing is just ridiculous. That was why I had chosen a seat in the front of the class for the first time in seven years at Hogwarts.

The bad thing about sitting in the front of Potions was I shared a table with Malfoy, the suck-up he was. He was telling his friends about his misadventures in France. "Her tits were so huge," he began. And that was all I needed, thank you. "You should have seen her. Short skirt. No underwear. She was so ready for me." I rolled my eyes and busied myself working on studying for my N.E.W.T.'s that were coming up pretty soon. Everyone else seemed to have forgotten.

"Ron," a female voice whispered. I glanced back to see Lavender smiled at me for the desk back. Seamus had his arm around her shoulders. "Do you have the Potion notes from last class?"

I managed to turn back around in my seat before digging them out and thrusting them at her. Very unlike how I'd performed during my only chance with her. She smiled and laid them down, starting to copy. Seamus busied himself looking down her blouse.

Merlin!

I didn't realize that I'd whispered it aloud until Draco drawled, "Jealous, Weasley?" I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "You should be. The bitch saw stars."

"That's a really nice way to treat a woman."

"She wasn't complaining." The Slytherin choir laughed at that. I just rolled my eyes and went back to my studying. I would be so glad when all these stupid hormones wore off. Then maybe everyone would get their brains back. What little brains they had, in Malfoy's case.

Snape finally came in, looking annoyed and pissed as usual. I wanted to thank him for coming. He slapped down his case, pulled out our exams from a few weeks ago, and looked over them dramatically. "There has been quite an upset in this class' grades. This leads me to believe that most of you think that since it is your seventh year you can stop paying attention in class.

"You're sorely wrong," he snapped. A few girls gasped. He flipped through the parchment to pull out a single test. "Can anyone guess who received the highest grade in this class, which is also a perfect score?"

Everyone looked at Hermione, who blushed proudly.

"Wrong!" He turned the test. My writing, messy and large, stood out, along with the bright green O inscribed on the top. "It was our very own Mr. Weasley. You can imagine my surprise." I didn't think my eyes could open any wider. "I, of course, checked for cheating spells and tried to recall who he sat near. However, my investigation produced no evidence against him."

Snape set the paper before me. I didn't dare pick it up. This had to be a dream and I didn't want it to end. "In fact, Mr. Weasley not only surpassed you, he beat all of my seventh year students by at least a full letter grade. Explain this phenomenon."

He waited, probably curious to see if someone would bother trying to make an excuse. "I believe I have a good idea of what the problem is. Spring is coming, and you all feel the need to chase after your pathetic desires. Of course, you will become quite disillusioned when your N.E.W.T.'s are upon you, and Mr. Weasley is the only one who passes. However much I find this in doubt, I would never have believed this to happen either." He held up the tests he still held for emphasis.

"If I do not see an improvement in these grades for the surprise essay I am assigning today, you can be sure there will be heavier patrols at night and stricter dormitory policies for all. I am not the only professor who has complained."

He handed out the exams in silence. I finally got the courage to touch mine. There were no green marks on the entire page. Everything was right. He didn't add any snide comments at all. In fact, on the other side he had written, "Surprising effort." A compliment. From Snape.

So, celibacy had its upsides. Which was probably why my new favourite teacher was so intelligent.

"Your essay, which will be due next class, shall be as follows: Research the ten forms of wormswort and characterize each on the Critus Herb Scale." The entire class groaned even me. "Two feet at least." Merlin, he was feeling mean. "However, Mr. Weasley is exempt." I almost passed out right there. "Because I have been personally impressed with his behaviour lately. The rest of you shall make the same effort he has or I shall start assigning very long, scary quizzes for each class." He sneered. I was in love, I thought, grinning at the sentiment behind it.

"Now, today we shall be learning about nocturnal cuttings. In other words, plants that must be clipped at night in order to be used in specific potions. Can anyone name for me a nocturnally cut plant?"

I glanced toward Malfoy. He looked aghast. We hadn't learned about these yet, but in my frustration I was ahead in all my readings. I slowly raised my hand. Snape looked at me, surprised. "Mr. Weasley?"

"Ah, lupine."

"Any other you know of?" he persisted.

"Jurrey weed, filacanthe, and, ah…" I frowned because I knew it. "Lalere?"

"Lereley, but close enough." He turned and wrote the four I'd named on the board. "These are the four groups of plants which are required to be cut at night. The lupines can only be cut under full moons."

Class went on like that. Snape didn't ask anymore questions, but anything he could have asked, I would have known. I had the nocturnals down.

When he finally dismissed the class, and everyone went flying into the corridor in fear of his rage and the essay he'd just assigned, I heard, "Not you, Mr. Weasley. I would like to speak with you."

I swallowed and turned around to face him. He was sitting at his desk, correcting papers. "Yes, sir?"

"You must admit you are behaving quite interestingly. I do not think I would be out of line in saying Potions is not your strong suit." He didn't look up from his papers. I just stood a few metres from his desk, trying to think of something to say. "I am pleased. If you cheated on that exam, however…"

"No, sir! I didn't. I've just been paying attention to all my classes more closely." I didn't cheat on that exam. I just worked my ass off.

"Are you studying for your N.E.W.T.'s yet?"

"Yes, I am."

"Now is the time to get serious. They are nowhere as easy as the O.W.L.'s."

"Percy told me." Percy, the sex god. Who would have known? That just wasn't fair. "I think I'm the only one in my dorm studying right now."

"You haven't gotten swept up in the tide of hormones, I can see." I looked at him, surprised. "Of course I noticed, boy. Seventh year is the worst of all for people who have better things to do with their time. You forget I went to school here. Nothing ever changes."

"Every year this happens?"

"Yes, Weasley, every year without fail." He went to the next page of homework. "And there is always a student or two who is behind in 'blossoming,'" he said with much sarcasm, "or who doesn't care. And those students always excel on the N.E.W.T.'s. You should feel lucky you escaped all that bullshit."

I had never heard a professor swear. But he was probably the most likely to, being who he was. "I don't feel lucky at all," I bristled. "How is this lucky?"

"You may not see the benefit now, but when exceptional N.E.W.T.'s make the different between working a desk job in the Ministry or doing something you consider fun, you will see what I mean." He finally glanced up at me. "You are dismissed. Enjoy your free time. It is not often I exempt students from essays when I am angry."

"Thank you, sir." I left without another word. Things just kept getting weirder and weirder. All I really wanted to do was get laid. I didn't care about N.E.W.T.'s or my career later in life. I cared about sticking my thing into some girl as often as I wanted and her praising me for it.

I needed an unbiased ear. Who I ran into as I walked from Potions to my room was not what one would call an unbiased ear.

"Get lost, Weasley," he hissed.

"Get bent, Malfoy," I answered sharply. "You're just jealous I'm better in Potions than you." Bragging rights were always nice, though. Things were just getting more and more interesting.

"I will supercede you soon enough," he pledged.

"What did you get on the exam, Malfoy?" He blanched but didn't reply. "Maybe you should be asking all those French whores for help in Potions instead of wasting your life horizontally."

"You wish you had the women I did."

I made a show of looking around him. He watched me, confused greatly. "Well, where are they?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The women you have that I want. I just see you, alone, in a corridor with a Gryffindor." I smiled sharply. "I bet you didn't even have sex with any women in France. It's just all a lie. Who would sleep with an ugly ferret like you, huh?" Man, I was even up on my insults. Repression was becoming a blessing more than a curse.

Mention of the ferret episode sent Malfoy into a blinding rage. "At least my family can afford to go to France! Where did you go on your vacation? Your backyard!?"

I just laughed. I'd heard that shit from him and everyone else for so long, it didn't affect me in the least. "Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"Prove that your shagged all those girls. If you can, I'll believe you."

"How the hell do I prove it? Not like I kept in touch with them."

"That's convenient." I shook my head. "As much as I love standing here fighting with you, I have to go and not write a horrible Potions essay. Then I'm going to not cram for McGonagall's exam tomorrow and not work on the essay for History that I already did. Enjoy those French whores in your crazy little mind." And I walked right past him and didn't look back. I would have, to see his stunned face, but it was more dramatic to not look back.

The common room was empty. The youngins had classes at this time usually, and all the older students were shagging in dark places, or not so dark places. Even my sister. I shuddered again.

I laid out my books on the table and started reading for Transfiguration. We had an exam, but I already knew all that stuff. I just needed to really work hard for the N.E.W.T.'s. Maybe I could be the first brother to get Outstanding on every single N.E.W.T. That would be a good way to get back at them for being so exceptional in bed.

"Weasley," a thickly accented voice said from behind me. I blinked, remembering that I was still in the common room. Professor McGonagall stood near the portrait hole, looking at me. "Were you asleep?"

"No, I'm just studying," I answered. I'd been in a pretty deep, study-induced trace, though.

"You missed dinner."

"Nothing new for me." I smiled a little to reassure her and turned back to the book. A few seconds later, the smell of baked chicken, potatoes, and gravy make me look up. There was a meal sitting on the table before me. Our Head of House conjured a seat and joined me at the table. "Thanks, Professor." I set aside her book to eat hungrily.

"I just graded the essay your class turned into me last week, Weasley."

"Did I fail again? I really stink at writing essays, you know," I said thickly around a mouthful of chicken.

"No, in fact. You did quite the opposite." She seemed like she was trying to find the most tactful way to put whatever she wanted to say. "I have noticed that you are more often in solitude now. You separate yourself from your friends in my class, as well as in many of the other classes whose Professors I have spoken with."

I swallowed a mouthful and took a drink of pumpkin juice to wash it down. I didn't have anything to say.

"Ron, you know that everyone here wants you to succeed in everything you do. But when we see a student who suddenly changes his entire life in a period of a month or so, it's very worrying."

"I just got a perfect score on a Potions' exam, Professor. That should make you realize that me being alone is better for me."

She nodded lightly. "But good grades are not everything. School is also a place of being with other people. Interacting with other people."

I considered her. Obviously, if Snape knew that everyone in the school was going shag-crazy, McGonagall must. "I do still hang out with my friends. It's just that everyone is crackers right now, so I'm the only normal one."

"I know." She bowed her head, considering her words. "When students reach their seventh year, and get toward the end of their seventh year, they feel as though their world is about to end. That can be a very scary thing."

"I just want to get out of here."

"I know that your classmates are being strange, but it will change when they realize how close the N.E.W.T.'s are."

"I'm already studying. I don't have to worry." I finished my meal, and she sent the dishes away with her wand. "I'm really okay, Professor. Don't worry about me."

"I worry about all my students. It is my job." She smiled slightly and stood. "It was an excellent essay, Ron."

"Did I beat Hermione?"

"Vastly," she replied, her mood lightening. She left the common room without another word.

I actually made it to lunch the next day, sitting toward the Head table, with a book at my elbow. A few first years, unaware of the things that were happening in the world of their seventh year counterparts, watched me respectfully. I apparently made them want to study more.

"Ah, Ron?" It was Seamus. He slid into a seat across from me, smiling lightly. He knew I dated Lavender. He didn't know what happened between us. I hoped. But Seamus had a big mouth, so half the school would have known by now.

"What?" I murmured.

"Hermione wants to know why you won't sit with us." He glanced down the table toward our friends.

"Because I'm trying to study, and I can't be interrupted by all the idiocy that surrounds you all." And that was the truth.

"What the hell are you studying for?"

"Hm, let me see…" I canted my head, eyes squinted in concentration. "Oh, yeah. The N.E.W.T.'s. You know, only the most important set of testing we'll ever take. Yeah, but you forgot about those because you're having too much fun sticking it to Lavender."

"Is this about her…? Because she said you were way over."

"We are. It's not even about her. It could be any girl in this school."

"I'm young. I need room to blossom," he replied, grinning. "Why do you care?"

"I don't. I don't even care. You came over here and asked me why I wasn't sitting with you. I told you why. You didn't leave."

"Merlin, Ron, you're such a bastard, you know." He stood and walked away, down to his girlfriend. My first and last. I slammed by book shut and left the Great Hall, slamming the doors behind me. Those were the best doors to slam when you were angry, because they made a very satisfying thud. As I hurried toward anywhere away from anyone I knew, I turned a corner. Direct hit. My book when flying, papers littered the air, and Professor Snape was on the ground, looking pissed.

I chased his papers, gathering them in a slightly neat pile. "I'm sorry, sir," I murmured. I'd knocked him right onto the ground. I was strong, I was hung, and I was a pretty nice guy. What gods gave me that but didn't give me any talent in bed? The evil ones.

He took the papers from me, sneering. "You shouldn't run in the hallways, Weasley. And especially not around blind corners." He tapped the papers, trying to regain their order.

"Sorry, I was just trying to storm away and everything." I grabbed my book off the ground. "Fight, you know." I pushed my bookmark down further, in case it was loosened by the fall.

Snape brushed off his robes, finally recovering himself. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked mockingly.

"Yeah, but you know all about that. Sir."

"Just because I excused you from an essay doesn't give you the right to give me cheek. Five points from Gryffindor."

"And I thought we were bonding." I set the book against my hip and stalked off toward the library, which was the other way.

"The day that we bond, Weasley, is the day that your best friend becomes a Potions Master."

"You shouldn't sink down to my level, sir. You're much, much older than I am." I only used this because it usually distressed my father and sent us into peals of laughter. "Now, if you'll excuse me, sir, I'm going to study in the library."

"The library is big enough for two. If you can fit your ego inside."

I slowed my pace, and Professor Snape caught up to me. We walked in… shared silence for a while. "Can I ask you something, sir?"

"You can ask, but I may not answer."

"Were you solitary at school?"

"I was reclusive," he confirmed.

"Did everyone try to make you be a part of a group and pretend to have fun and be interested in what other people have to say?" I glanced over at him, a little down since I was taller.

"Of course they did. Everyone always feels the need to barge in on other people's contentment."

"Professor McGonagall tried to make me be social last night. And Seamus had the bal… audacity to come and ask me why I wouldn't sit with them anymore. When all they talk about is shagging and screwing and making out and all that other bullshit."

Snape glanced at me, eyebrows raised. "I would think that of everyone, you would be the most eager to give yourself over to that life style."

"Yeah, well, I think girls are a bloody waste of time. All they want is money and attention so they can tell boring stories about nothing that even matters in the world. All for a little grope and some kissing." I couldn't believe I was sharing this with Snape. Of all people. Of course, now that I was a recluse, that made us kin. Something in common with the man who had always made my life miserable.

"You have a Potions Master mentality. Talk to any of us and we'll tell you the same thing. Even the women are… hesitant to waste time in the fruitless pursuit of something meaningful in sexual relations."

"Oh, I wish," I murmured, completely without thinking. I just wanted a sexual relationship. It did not have to be meaningful at all.

"You have a lot of your brother, William, in there. Hidden. His sharp intelligence. Obviously, if you put your heart into it, you can accomplish any task and master any skills." We entered the library together and he put his papers down on a random desk. "Enlightening, Weasley. You know where my office is." And he stalked into the Restricted Section.

I stood there, more than slightly amazed. After a few minutes, I woke from my shock and found a table in the far end of the library, isolated. I sat down in a comfortable chair, opened to my page in the book, and started to gorge.

I spent the rest of the day until the library closed studying for the N.E.W.T.'s. I was the last one to leave, and Madam Pince looked at me quite angrily when she came to stir me.

I headed to my dorm, hoping everyone was away doing whatever. Maybe I liked being a recluse because I never had a choice at home. I always had to share everything with everyone. Now I was becoming my own person, free of the bounds of the brothers that had come before me.

The dorm was too crowded. Susan was visiting Dean. Lavender was sitting on Seamus' bed with him. Ginny was reading a book with Neville. Harry and Hermione were doing their Potions essay, sharing the same book on the floor near the window.

I turned and went to walk back out.

"Is it true, Ron?" Seamus called out suddenly. The room was tense. Too tense. Something was up. I looked at him. He was smiling. No one else in the room was looking at me.

"Is what true?" Of course, this had to be a bad dream. This was how the bad dream always went.

"Are you a shite of a lay?"

I looked at him mildly, copying one of the many looks my new role model. "You'll never find out."

He shrugged smugly. "I don't want to. I'm an actual man. You know. I can please my girl."

I snorted at him, a half laugh. "You really are an idiot, Seamus. It only took me seven years to realize. You're just an annoying, smug son of a bitch. I guess you can't help it. Your mother probably dropped you too many times as a child." I knew bringing in his mother was dangerous.

"Say that again."

"Was I speaking too fast for your addled brain?" Seamus stood, and Lavender grabbed his arm. "Let him go. See what he does. I outweigh him by a few kilos." This went without saying because he was a good thirty centimetres shorter than I was. "Besides, what the fuck do you care?" I snapped at her.

"Ron…" she began softly.

"Oh, spare me, you filthy whore." That felt good. I'd wanted to say something like that for some time. "You can't play innocence, now can you?"

"I dare you to say that again!" Seamus barked angrily.

"You are a flea-bitten mongrel and your girlfriend is a dirty, stinking bitch." It was like I channeled some Slytherin spirit in my rage. I was actually enjoying myself. "You're all going to end up working dead end jobs just because of your stupid hormones. Fine, go ahead." I turned and stormed out. I slammed doors. I cursed loudly. I even tore the Fat Lady off her hinge and left her screaming after me.

And I went to the first place that came to mind. I went to Snape's office. Still ranting. Still red in the face from stomping and yelling.

He looked up as I slammed the door a few times and screamed. "Mr. Weasley."

I shut the door calmly and sat down in one of the chairs before his desk. "Sorry, sir. I just had a few very bad minutes and I needed to vent. Can we talk?"

"Take a seat," he intoned sarcastically. "What is it?"

"I'm a bad lay," I admitted blandly.

"A what?"

"I can't have sex. Well, I can. It's just…" I shook my head. "You know how everyone's all crackers over this sex craze? Well, last year I…"

Snape interrupted me. "You are going to tell me a story, I am sure."

"Yes, do you mind? I just need to tell someone and I think you'll understand." He blinked and seemed to settle in for a long story. "I lost my virginity last year to this girl. It's not important who. And when we were done, you know, she just looked at me and seemed surprised. When I asked what was wrong, she just said that she really had to go. A few days later, when she wouldn't talk to me, I cornered her in some empty hallway and demanded to know what the hell happened. And she told me."

I glanced around his office, at the floating things in colored liquids and other equally disturbing stuff. "Yeah, she said that all the other times she'd fooled around, it excited her and I hadn't done that."

"Yes, but you were a virgin, what should she expect?" he commented. I'd almost forgotten he was there.

"I know, that should have been what it was. And I told her that she wasn't being fair, 'cause I'd never done it before. But she said she'd fooled around with virgins before too. And I was just bad."

"You trust some sixteen year old girl to tell you whether you are a satisfactory partner or not? You are more of a fool than I thought."

I stared at my feet. "So, we broke it off. She went on to date someone in my dorm and I went on to date a bunch of other girls. The dates were boring, like all dates, but when it got to the point of kisses, I just sort of stopped caring. And that's the part boys are supposed to like. But I just don't."

"And what drove you here tonight?"

"Well, she promised not to tell anyone, but there's been a lot of tension about me in our dorm. So she told her boyfriend, who brought it up in front of a whole score of people. And I yelled at him and called them both very bad names. He wanted to fight me, but no one at this school can beat me in a fight. So he didn't. But I really insulted him. Like… Malfoy-insulted him. I did everything but call him a Mudblood." I shivered and tugged my robes closer. "So… that's the whole story. I'm a terrible lay."

Snape looked vaguely uncomfortable. "I am not the person you should come to for love advice. But I think it may be possible that you just haven't found the correct person yet. Who best matches your style."

"Well, I don't see that happening, sir. Isn't there some potion that can cure me?"

"You aren't sick, Weasley. You don't need a cure. You need to get over the fact that you might not get to have sex for a while. What do you care anyway? You haven't even reached the peak of your physical growth yet, and already you're turning your hair grey with worry."

"Damn, if I'm not done growing, I'm going end up hurting some girl."

Snape closed his eyes, fingers massaging the bridge of his nose. "No, Weasley, not that kind of growth. I mean height, weight, stature. You still have a few years until that evens out."

"Sir, is it possible to be a bad lay if a person is… let's say… on the larger side?"

"I haven't done a study on it, so I don't know." His humour was, as usual, cynical. "That might be a topic you ask about from a brother. I think you can imagine that I am not a particularly popular man."

"Hey, but you're funny, sir. Plenty of women really like that."

"Well, then I'm naturally swimming in willing partners." He sneered. "Please, don't flatter me. I've heard the things you and others have said behind my back and to my face as well."

"Sorry, sir."

Snape steepled his fingers. "I have another hypothesis for the reason you are not a talented sexual partner."

"I'd like to hear it, sir."

"You say that you don't like kissing girls?"

"It's just… I don't know. Weird. Like boring."

"And you cannot please a woman."

"Put that way…" I began, trying to protest his words. He held up a finger to silence me as he found the words.

"It is possible that you are not interested in girls."

"Obviously, that's why I'm having so many problems."

"I mean, Weasley, that perhaps you are more interested in the other half of our species."

"You mean gay!" I sputtered. No one had even suggested that to me yet. There were a few out students in our school, but they stuck together and had the same torrid sex lives that the other students did. But me… gay? Hell no. "No way."

"It is only a hypothesis."

"Yeah, well, I'm never going to test it." I looked at him, lips pursed. "I'm sorry I bothered you, sir."

"Despite my protests to say otherwise, I quite enjoyed your sordid tale. I knew something was horribly wrong with you. You have created quite a sensation in the staffroom."

"Horribly wrong?" I gasped. "Does that really classify as horribly wrong?"

"What plant is used to alter the Sleeping Draught to a poison which causes the drinker to go into a coma?"

"Bellesort," I answered without thinking and then blinked. "Okay, maybe horribly wrong." I rested my face in my hands. "I'll bet I'm the only teenager in the world who can't have sex."

"You can, just without the expected results."

"Don't remind me!" I whined. "Now my entire dorm knows. Which means that by tomorrow, everyone will know. Even Malfoy." This made tears prick in my eyes and I swallowed hard. "I'll have to drop out of school and live on the streets."

"Oh, don't be so damn dramatic, Weasley. You've never cared what Malfoy said about you before. At least now he'll stop making fun of your family's monetary deficiencies."

I lifted my face and looked at him. "I can't stand him talking about all his conquers in France."

"France?"

I nodded slowly, face betraying my anger. "Yeah, all he talks about are all the girls he boffed during summer holiday when he went to France."

A slow smile made its way across Snape's face. "France, he says? Oh, that is amusing. Malfoy spent the summer at my family's manor, working on his potions and studying for the N.E.W.T.'s. The closest thing to him that was French was the wine in our cellar."

My eyes widened and I laughed unexpectedly. "You're kidding! Ooh, at least I have a little bit of blackmail against him." I nodded, happiness curling my stomach. "And what're a few months as a recluse if I pass all my N.E.W.T.'s?"

"I must tell you, I do not approve of blackmail. As a professor."

I smiled grandly and stood. "Thank you, sir. You've done a lot more for me than you can know."

"Sleep well."

"You too, sir." And with that, I left his office feeling a lot better than I had in a while. In the common room, I found a strip of parchment some student had left behind. I got a quill and sat down to write a note.

I hear France is very nice during the summer. Pity you weren't there. A little birdie told me you spent it with Snape. Your secrets safe with me. For now. The Weasel.

Note in my pocket, I went up to the Owlery and grabbed the nearest school owl and sent the note off toward Malfoy. He'd receive it before he went to sleep tonight, probably, and he'd have time to steam over it before the news got out in the morning.

I didn't risk breakfast. In fact, I didn't even go back to my dorm last night until one o'clock, so I was sure everyone was asleep. When I woke, everyone was gone already, probably to spread the rumour of my inadequacies. But I didn't care. I had Malfoy by the balls. If he said anything to me, I'd spread his rumour.

And of course, I counted on the support of my own wrinkled brain and Professor Snape. Even if he didn't support me in public, at least I had someone to rant to.

I was the last to enter Transfiguration and the class was silent when I entered. The Hufflepuffs, apparently, weren't going to say anything. Seamus smirked at me, but I ignored him and sat in front of the class, taking out my quill and ink for the exam.

McGonagall came in a few seconds late holding a pile of exams to be taken. She managed at small comforting smile for me before facing the class. "As I'm sure you know, you have an exam today. The first part will be done at my desk." She held up a bowling ball. "You will be transfiguring this into an object of my choosing. The second part, which you will work on while others are doing the first part, is written."

She handed out the exams to the silent class. I set to work answering the questions with determination and ease. It was simple, just the most basic ideas of motion transfiguration and theories in human transfiguration. A week ago I'd managed to change myself fully into a large orange dog and back. It wasn't really a theory anymore, was it? We weren't learning full body transfigurations until next month.

I was almost finished when she called the first name, which was me since I was in front. I ended the sentence I was on and went up to the front of the room. The class was quieter and tenser than before.

"All right, Weasley. Please turn this bowling ball into a sneezing broccoli."

I looked at her, smiling at the absurdity of it. I rolled the bowling ball with one hand, I concentrated on it. I could combine the spell and not have to worry about doing two. I nodded, doing the rune diagram in my head. Finally, having worked out the spell, I executed it. The bowling ball twisted and curved. A sneeze was emitted. The broccoli fell over but continued to sneeze.

McGonagall looked at me as if I'd grown another head. I looked back, confused. "Thank you, Weasley," she managed to say. I sat back down to finish, and she called up Justin who sat a table over from me in the front.

I laid down my quill and turned over the exam. When a student from the second row went to sit down, I raised my hand. "What do you want us to do when we're done?"

"You are done?"

"Yes, ma'am."

A set of whispers ran through the seventh years in my class. I ignored them as usual. "Bring it up here, then." I stood again and brought her the parchment. She took it from me, adjusting her spectacles to read a few of my answers. "Very well, Weasley. Since you've already done the practical exam, you may go." She laid down my exam. "But I would like to see you in my office before lunch."

"Have I done something wrong, Professor?"

"Before lunch," she reminded, ignoring me as I was my peers. Or should I say classmates.

"Of course." I left the class, wondering what I'd done wrong. Maybe she'd even heard the rumour. I was in the library when morning classes let out. I had a few minutes until I had to meet McGonagall. I'd wait until the overall noise died down before I left.

When I was satisfied the most of the students were heading toward dorms or lunch, I left the library. That was when I heard the first bit of laughing. A group of Ravenclaw girls passed me by. Seeing me sent them into giggles. I ignored them, but it hurt me.

McGonagall's door was open and I heard talking from inside. "Listen to me, Severus. He did a combination transfiguration. Do you even understand the difficulty of that?"

"Of course I understand. I can do double transformations myself. Most wizards can."

"He's only seventeen."

"Weasley is quite talented student when he wants to be. That is obvious."

I peeked in the crack of the door to see Snape standing by the exit, arms crossed. McGonagall sat at her desk. "Something is different with him. His classmates… they don't talk to him anymore. He doesn't sit with them anymore. He's giving off some very visible danger signs of depression."

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

McGonagall considered him for a moment. "Have you spoken to any of his other teachers? Apparently he's been talking to some of the teachers he's never had before to get them to tutor him in their subjects. Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, advanced Herbology."

"It's his business, as I said, but I cannot lie and say I am not impressed. Weasley is certainly applying himself these last months. He may end up graduating above Granger." Snape turned and yanked open the door. I smiled sheepishly. "Weasley."

"Hello, sir."

"Eavesdropping is a very unattractive habit," he said as he walked past me and I entered McGonagall's office.

"Take a seat, Mr. Weasley." I did as told, looking at her expectantly. "I suppose you heard everything."

"Yes, I'm sorry, Professor."

"Where did you read about combination transfigurations, Weasley?"

"It's in the textbook," I replied weakly. "I've read it twice now." Transfiguration and Potions were my hardest subjects, so I worked hardest on them.

"And you're taking private lessons from Professor Vector and Professor Sinistra?"

"Yes."

She studied me carefully. "You must admit this is strange behaviour."

"I know. I just got antsy, and Hermione is always saying that those are her hardest subjects, so I wanted to see if I could do them." I thought of Hermione and every other Gryffindors bitterly.

"This is not normal behaviour for you, Ron. That is why everyone is making such a fuss."

"Professor, I am not depressed. I like working hard and getting results. I never had before, and now I'm a seventh year, and the N.E.W.T.'s are so important. I don't want to get a shoddy job and hate myself for being irresponsible for seven years."

McGonagall studied him then shook her head lightly. "Well, I can't say that you're exhibiting any strange Weasley conduct. Bill, Charlie, and Percy had attacks of fear for their future in seventh year that brought them back to their studies. And so did Fred and George, but in their own way." She took a deep breath and nodded. "All right, Weasley. I'll stay off your case from now on. You did excellent on your exam, by the way."

"How excellent?" She pursed her lips. "I understand; it's not fair to ask." I stood. "Bye, Professor."

I entered Potions late. I'd lost track of time in the library. Snape glared at me as I took my seat in the front of the room. "As I was saying before Mr. Weasley decided to bless us with his present, this potion takes care and consideration. The ingredients are very volatile alone, and together they are even more volatile. Do not think that adding more will make the potion stronger and therefore better. Those are foolish assumptions. Use only the directed amount. You will work in pairs so that if one of you decides to be idiotic, the other might have some more sense."

In the end, everyone was paired up except me, although Malfoy had a three person group with Crabbe and Goyle. But I guess Crabbe and Goyle have about the same brains as one single person.

"Tell me, Malfoy," Snape began with a drawl that made everyone in the class look up. "How many people are working at your table right now?"

"Three, sir," he replied softly.

"And how many people did I say should be working in a team?"

"A pair, sir."

"And a pair is how many…?"

"Two, sir."

"Work with Weasley. Ten points from Slytherin for not listening to my instructions." Draco shot me a fierce glare at this. At least I knew that he got my letter. He brought all his things over to my table and the class went back to normal. Normal enough.

"Heard about your little problem," Draco murmured under his breath as he chopped roots meticulously.

"Heard about yours," I replied softly. "So you better not say a damned thing if you know what's best for your reputation."

"Like anyone would believe you."

"People want to hate you, Malfoy. They just feel bad for me. They'll believe me because everyone is so tired of hearing about your conquests." I dumped the petals I had been crushing to release the extracts into the cauldron.

"It's pretty funny, actually, Weasley. Impotent little Weasley."

"I'm not impotent, you bastard. Impotent means that I can't have children." It was a very fine line we were walking now, between his secrets and mine.

"You're just a pathetic lover."

"You know from personal experience, I'm sure."

He glared at me deeply, pouring the roots in. "Where is the powdered stump weed?"

"It's stunt weed. And it says on the board that you have to grind it. If you even paid attention."

"You must be really pissed that everyone in the world is able to have sex, and you can't."

"I can so," I snapped back. "I don't see you with a girlfriend, ferret."

"I don't need a girlfriend. Waste of time and effort."

"Yeah, you just rely on your made-up whores to sustain you in your dirty mind. How did you enjoy your time in France, anyway?" I murmured, grinning as he grumbled unintelligibly and ground the stunt weed harder than necessary. "Just what I thought. I bet all your little underlings are so proud of you, too."

"At least I have friends."

"They aren't your friends, Malfoy. Don't disillusion yourself."

"I'm impressed you even know what the word 'disillusion' means, Weasley. Because I doubt if your family could afford a dictionary."

I "accidentally" let my cutting board fall on his unsuspecting fingers. He yelped then clamped his mouth shut, massaging his hand.

"Malfoy, what are you going on about?" Snape asked, sweeping over.

"I just… dropped the pestle on my hands, sir. That's all." He glared at me deeply as Snape walked away to help Seamus before he blew us all up. "I see the sexual frustration is translating into violence."

"As I said, Malfoy, I don't see you having any real conquests. Not that I'd call shagging a Slytherin girl a conquest."

Under the table, he poised a well-aimed kick, hitting my shin forcefully. I ground my teeth against the shooting pain and added the weeds that he'd just crushed into the potion. It turned green, as expected, and I stirred it a few times. "Very good, Weasley," Snape commented. "You're the first to successfully complete the first part of the potion."

When Snape had left, Malfoy sat staring at me as the potion cooked for twenty minutes. "You're such a teacher's pet."

"Better than being an insufferable git, I guess," I sneered in reply.

"Must be nice not having any friends."

"You would know."

"I have friends."

"You have lackeys."

"You don't know anything about me."

"And vice versa."

We had a glaring contest until a low rumbling come from behind me. I swiveled around to see Snape casting a protective spell over Hermione and Harry's cauldron. The bubble over it expanded and sank back down. "Ah, and Mr. Potter becomes the first to blow his potion up. You can both redo it during your detention tonight. There isn't enough time in class to start again. You're both dismissed."

A half an hour later, everyone in the class was gone except Malfoy and me. Our potion was the only one that hadn't exploded or eaten through the bottom of our cauldron. Snape sat grading papers at his desk as we worked in silence. It was more sitting then working, however. The potion needed ingredients about every twenty minutes, so we spent most of our time glaring at each other or very surely avoiding each other's eyes.

Snape stood up and brought Malfoy a piece of parchment. "This was not up to par with your usual skills, Malfoy." He handed him his essay, which the class had turned in today, with a green P (for Poor) on the front. "You are obviously having problems with the Critus Scale and I can assure you that it will come up in your N.E.W.T.'s."

Malfoy scowled at his paper and the many green comments from Snape. "I am sure Weasley would be happy to tutor you now while you are waiting to add your ingredients." Snape glanced at me. "I was not expecting anyone to finish this potion and evidently underestimated. I have a meeting, so I am going to depart. But I will return in fifteen minutes. Do not blow anything up while I am gone. The deaths of students are not looked upon lightly." And with that, he swept out of the room, closing the door firmly.

"Hell, no," Malfoy said, slamming down the paper. "You are not going to tutor me."

"There's a really easy way of remembering it."

"Shut up, Weasley."

"Well, fine, fail your Potions N.E.W.T. I don't care."

Malfoy studied me, half-glaring, half-considering. "Fine, dammit, what is this easy way of remembering that damn scale?"

I turned over his essay for some place to write, dipping my quill. I made a simple table. "Well, the scale goes from one to ten, right?" I drew ten spaces inside the rectangle. "We memorized that horrible chart last year, with all the plant genus, which goes from one to a hundred in units of ten."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, if you line up the Hermer Scale with the Critus Scale, they are equal. They are both based on the same characteristics; it's just that the Hermer Scale is more precise." I added the Hermer Scale next to the Critus Scale. "So if you take… wormswort, where was that on the Hermer Scale?"

"Fifty-nine, I couldn't forget that."

"So, on the Critus Scale, it's rounded to a six, which means it is a useful replacement for other sixes and so on. You already know all the characteristics from the Hermer Scale."

Malfoy scrutinized my diagram then me. "I didn't even notice that."

"Yeah, well, I've had a lot of time to think about it." I put my quill down and turned to the potion, adding our chopped freneel.

"I'll bet you're pissed at whatever girl spilled your secret," he said tentatively as I stirred the liquid counterclockwise slowly.

"Yeah, I am."

"Who was it?"

"Lavender."

"She's a bitch anyway."

"I know, now." I tapped the ladle on the side of the cauldron and used my wand to turn up the fire. "Why do you feel the need to lie about the girls you've shagged?"

"I guess because that's what people expect from me. I've always fulfilled my obligations about my reputation." He glanced over his shoulder, studying the board. "So, how much time do we have left?"

"Only another set of thirty minutes." I prepared the last set of ingredients to be added. "I'm glad everyone else failed this."

"Why?" Malfoy asked me, frowning deeply.

"They deserve it for what they did to me. You know, Gryffindors are supposed to be… loyal to each other. I've always trusted them. But now they've told everyone in the entire school…" I was suddenly overcome with rage and slammed the knife I was holding a few centimetres into the table. "Dammit," I whispered.

"What do you care what people think of you?"

"This coming from the kid who lied about going to France." I jerked the knife out of the wood, laying it down. "At least I'm not denying it and lying."

"Yeah, well, I'm not inadequate, so I really don't have to lie about that," he replied defensively.

I scoffed at him. "I've yet to hear any real girls say that about you. Gotten it on a lot with Bulstrode or Parkinson?"

"Salazar, no," he murmured, disgusted. "I left them to Crabbe and Goyle years back. They're just awful. Parkinson is such a dirty slut and Bulstrode." He shivered.

"You think that's bad. My sister is sleeping with Neville."

Malfoy's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline at that comment. "Longbottom got a girl into bed with him? Now that surprises me."

"My sister," I stressed. He obviously hadn't heard or didn't understand because he was an only child. "And I saw him reading some sex manual."

Malfoy and I both shuddered at the same time. "Longbottom and sex should not be said in the same sentence. If only for my digestive system."

"Girls have it so easy. They can just be there. They don't have to do anything, and they can say bad things about it afterwards. They are so annoying."

"Yeah, they are," he agreed, sighing. "You have to take them out and pretend to listen to what they say before you even get a chance to sleep with them. And they think it makes us more interested when they play hard to get. I wish women were more like men. Then there'd never be any problems. There'd be no dating, no anything. Just sex."

"Easy for you to say," I grumbled.

"Oh, come on. You can't be that bad." I looked at him gravely. "Maybe you just need more practice."

"With who!? Everyone in the school knows I'm a bad lay! No one will come anywhere near me."

"Or your prick."

"Oh, come off," I barked. "Like I need you of all people reminding me." Malfoy shrugged, making a show of looking over his essay carefully. "You know, sometimes you act like you're an actual person and not just a great prat. But then you remind me that you're a Malfoy."

He didn't look at me. "And you're such a nice person."

"I'm trying to at least be peaceful with you."

"I can see the headlines now: Weasley and Malfoy, Best Friend Forever." He sneered. "I agree that girls are stupid and annoying. I'm not going to share an ice cream soda with you just because of that."

"Bastard. You can just finish the potion, then." I stood up, shoveling my stuff into my satchel. "And I do hope you fail your Potions N.E.W.T. I hope I place better on all of them and someday, I'll be your superior, and we'll see." He opened his mouth to snap a reply, but I think he saw my face and the width of my eyes. I was not going to cry in front of Malfoy the Bastard Ferret.

"Listen, Weasley…"

"Just leave me alone, damn you! I wish everyone would just bugger off!" I turned blindly, bumping into something in my haste that held me from running away. I found Snape holding my arms, fingers digging into my flesh. "What?" I murmured, pulling out of his grasp.

"You are not finished your potion."

"I did everything so far. Malfoy can finish. I'm not staying here anymore." I pushed past Snape, and he grabbed the back of my robes. "What!?" I snapped. Merlin, I was going to cry. I had to get out of here.

"Sit down, Weasley. I don't care about your problems." He jerked me back toward the table. I slumped into my seat, leaning over as the tears overcame me. How embarrassing. My life couldn't get worse.

A hand rested on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. "Oh, don't be a fool," Snape grumbled. "You're a teenager. Your life is effortless."

"You have no idea about my life."

"At least you're tall and big and can beat the shit out of your tormentors. Mine were bigger than I was and very popular amongst the students and staff. At least they haven't tortured you for seven years of your life, stealing from you, humiliating you in front of everyone." I glanced up, and Snape looked down at me, scowling. "Don't assume your life is so hard."

I hastily wiped at my tears, although the need to really break down was still there. "It feels pretty hard."

"Well, it's not. School is a place for stupidity and hypocrisy. Most of your tormentors won't impress the ladies for long. Teenage girls are easy. Just wait until they leave here. Besides, I already told you what I think about your so-called shortcomings."

"I'm not," I replied defensively.

"That is for you to decide." Snape left our table, going to his desk and submerging himself in his work.

Malfoy looked at me shiftily then murmured, "Sorry."

"Forget it."

"I didn't know it was so bad for you."

"Stop acting like a normal person. It doesn't suit you."

Malfoy leaned forward to whisper, "What did Snape say to you?"

I schooled my face against looking surprised. My first reaction was to tell him to go to hell, but that seemed a little suspicious. "Nothing."

"Obviously he did."

"Just mind your own business."

"You might as well just tell me. Not like I'd risk you telling the school about my lies, anyway."

"No, Malfoy."

"You're afraid because whatever he said is right, and you don't like it. I'll bet." Malfoy shook his head at me. "You're a coward."

"I'm not a coward!" I hissed.

"Yes, you are. You can't even own up to your own feelings."

"They aren't my feelings."

"So, you can tell me."

I glared at him deeply, but he was unaffected. Finally, I sighed and gestured him closer. "He said I was… gay." Malfoy looked at me, eyebrows raised. "I'm not, you bastard."

"Well, if you'll never be able to please women, you might as well go to men. They'll take bad sex."

I jerked away from him. It was time to finish the potion, thank Merlin. I poured the final ingredients and it steamed. "We're done," I told Snape.

"Very well. You are free to leave. Fill a bottle, and put it on my work desk." He didn't even look up. I did as told and put it on his free desk, where he stored ingredients and finished potions and things for class.

Malfoy was gone when I finished cleaning up our work area. I shouldered my bag and left the room. I was surprised to see the Blond Boy Wonder standing outside the door, waiting for me. "I'll bet you are gay," he said without preamble.

"I'm not," I replied but without much feeling. It was pointless to deny it when he was so sure.

"Prove it," he taunted.

"Fine, I don't like guys."

"How can you know? You've only been with girls before. Maybe you'll love having ass sex with boys." He was enjoying himself immensely.

"Well, I'm not going to find out."

He swaggered into me as we turned a corner that would eventually lead to the stairway up. "I bet I can get some boy to sleep with you. Just ask me."

"I am not going to sleep with a boy, and I was definitely not going to ask you if I was."

"Fine, but you really will never know and always doubt yourself if you don't try it." Malfoy laughed a little at my expense.

I glanced down at him, rolling my eyes. "You sound like you're offering yourself, Malfoy."

He looked at me sharply. "I'm not gay."

"Prove it." He didn't say anything because we'd already had this conversation, pretty much. "I bet your daddy would hate it if you were. Probably give you over to the Death Eaters." It was a very sensitive topic.

"My father is a bastard who doesn't deserve me as a son. And yeah, he'd be pissed. That might drive me to doing it. Or at least lying and saying I did." He laughed darkly, probably planning out the conversation. "If you were gay, who would you sleep with?"

"At school?"

"Yes."

"You." He looked at me, eyes growing wide. "You look the most like a girl." Malfoy punched me in the shoulder. It didn't hurt at all, but I had a feeling he meant it to. "Where are you going? Isn't your dorm that way?"

Malfoy glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah. I'm going to the library. I have to work on the Herbology essay."

"I finished that weeks ago."

"We can't all be perfect students."

"I have to do something in my spare time. And it would be nice to graduate above you and Hermione."

"That's really mature."

I shrugged. "I think I, of anyone in this school, have a good reason to be immature. But not like you'd understand. With all your French lovers."

"Shut up, Weasley."

"I'll bet there are a lot of teenage boys in France cursing your name because their girlfriends don't want them. Now that they've had you, they'll be insatiable."

"You really are a bastard."

"I know. What can you do? You punch like a girl."

"I do not."

"Yeah, you do."

"Fine." He grabbed the edge of my robes, stopping me. "I'll punch you for real."

"Go ahead. Just don't aim for the stomach. It might tickle." He glared at me deeply, ruminating. "Anytime now."

"Just hold on."

"I won't even hit you back."

"I don't punch like a girl." I looked down at my feet, laughing under my breath. He did hit me in the stomach. I grinned and took a step back. "What!?"

"You hit like a girl, I told you. My sister punches harder. Hermione punches harder."

"Fine, hit me, then."

"You don't want that."

"Yeah, I do! Go ahead, unless you're too afraid." I rolled my eyes but hit him in the shoulder. It knocked him back a few steps. He rubbed his arm as he said, "You don't hit so hard."

"I wasn't even trying."

"It's because you're a big, lumbering oaf!"

"Name a plant that is Class E tradable."

"What?"

"How am I an oaf if I know more than you?" I smiled smugly. "And, by the way, the only plants that are Class E are mature mandrakes, sundews, and the woody Devil's Snare."

"You seriously need to get laid."

"Yeah, you don't have to tell me that." I turned and started walking. He caught up with me, taking two steps to match one of mine. "Stop following me."

"I'm going to the library."

"I was going there first."

"No, you weren't."

"Liar," I murmured.

"Inadequate baboon!"

"Girly fighter!"

"Weasel!"

"Ferret boy!"

Malfoy swung at me. I caught his arm and spun him around, pushing him toward a suit of armour. He hit it, his satchel sliding to the floor just before he fell onto his behind. He sat there for a long time, arms wrapped around his knees. "You're a bastard."

"At least you still have some respect at this school."

"For being a bastard."

"I'd rather be a bastard." I walked over and held out my hand to him. He glared at it but when I didn't move it away, he grabbed it, and I helped him to his feet. "Sorry I pushed you."

"Sorry I made you cry before," he said hastily before I even finished speaking.

"You didn't make me cry."

"Yeah, then what did?"

"The whole miserable world."

Malfoy retrieved his satchel. I waited for him. We walked to the library and sat down at the same table. "What did you write about?" he asked me in a whisper. Madam Pince was probably just waiting for an excuse to kick me out.

"I wrote about the properties of the lereley." When Malfoy gave me a look, I added, "It's one of those plants you have to cut at night or it won't have any magical properties."

"Oh." After a few seconds, he murmured, "What should I write about?"

"I don't know. It's your essay."

"But you're the expert in everything."

"I never thought I'd hear that from you."

"Just help me."

"Write about Anglos."

"Never heard of it."

I sighed at him and his ignorance. "It's a plant that only blooms every thousand years. It's said that Salazar Slytherin was the last wizard to see the blossoms, and it should be blooming again in a few years."

Malfoy looked enrapt. "Is it just one plant?"

"There's a very hard to reach valley in Madagascar. It's the only place they grow. The blooms are supposed to smell so sweet that you can't leave the valley even to sleep or eat until the blooms wilt two days later."

"Are you making this up?"

"No, I'm taking private lessons with Professor Sprout on Tuesdays. She teaches me all this type of stuff. That's how I knew about the nocturnals. Oh, and I've read our potions text twice."

Malfoy started to work on his essay, writing what I'd told him before going to look for a book on it. I had other plans for my library time. Instead of studying, I went into the less educational section of the library. A group of Hufflepuff girls looked at me sympathetically, and I glared at them deeply. They left, and I went to my searching. Because I couldn't ask Madam Pince about the kind of book I was looking for, it took a little longer.

I went back to the table with a few books. Malfoy was deep in concentration, already close to a foot. I opened the first book and read the first line. "Am I gay?" Just reading it made me flush. I went on. "This can be a very frightening question for any young wizard, but it doesn't have to be. Sometimes, you may not even know you are gay until far into your teens, or even your twenties. Even after that, you may still be indecisive or confused. But you can rest assured you are not alone."

"What are you reading?" Malfoy interrupted. I slammed the book closed and glared at him, but he ignored me and took the next book in my pile before I could grab it away. "'Rainbow Wizards, a Guide to Homosexuality.' You liar."

"I'm just doing research to make sure I'm not!" I hissed, grabbing it back. He just shook his head and went back to his homework. I glared and continued my book, undeterred. It wouldn't be so bad if people thought I was gay. Then maybe they would think I just wasn't a good lay with girls.

"Being gay myself, I know many of the signs to look for. I spent most of my teenage years unable to keep a relationship with a girl. I was very awkward and never felt right being intimate with them, even holding hands didn't feel right. I got defensive if girls mentioned it, which eventually led to not being able to date girls."

"Merlin above," I whispered. This could not be happening.

"What?" I forgot Malfoy was there.

"Nothing, do your work."

"I often found myself insulting girls in general, telling my friends that I just didn't have time with schoolwork to date, or that girls were annoying and I wanted someone older or different or a girl who was easier to sleep with."

"You look like you've been struck by lightening. Your mouth is hanging open. Weasley? Are you listening to me?"

I glanced up at him and closed the book. "Nope, definitely not gay," I said faintly. I stood up and left the library, not putting away the books. Malfoy whispered after me but luckily didn't follow. Since I felt like my brain was going to explode, I needed to get away and not talk to anyone for a while.

After wandering around mindlessly and getting hopelessly lost, I found the Room of Requirement where we had practiced our curses and countercurses two years ago. When I opened the door, the room was small and cozy, with a small fire burning, and a big puffy chair by it. I walked in and shut the door behind me.

I spent every moment I usually spent in the library in the Room of Requirement. Studying, evaluating my life and everything I ever thought I cared about and everything I thought I hated. Sometimes I didn't go back to the dorm. I slept there. A bed appeared when it got too late. If I missed a meal, which was quite often, a meal would appear for me. Hermione and Harry didn't try to talk to me, even though it was obvious I wasn't doing too well. McGonagall kept her word and didn't talk to me about it anymore. Snape didn't even try to treat me like I was special.

Weeks passed and the only person I even spoke to was Malfoy who had become some sort of surrogate friend. We both kept our part of the bargain. I never told anyone–who would I tell?–about France, and he kept the Slytherins away from me and my problem. It didn't stop the laughing or the pity or the shame I felt every time I entered a room, but it sank to the back of my mind.

I pushed open the door to the Room of Requirement after a long Transfiguration lesson. I sat down in my chair, immediately feeling better. I kicked off my shoes and found a book.

A bed appeared in the room, large and more ornate than my usual bed. I raised an eyebrow and made to investigate. But the door opened, and I jumped, running through any excuse I could come up with if it was a teacher. Malfoy looked at me suspiciously. I glanced at the bed and looked up at the ceiling of the room. "Oh, that's nice, thank you," I said to the cynical room.

Malfoy chose not to comment on my lapse of insanity. "What are you doing here?" I shrugged. "I followed you, in case you were wondering."

"Why?"

"Because you need someone to wonder about your weirdness."

"Just go away." He stepped in and shut the door behind him. "I'm serious. I come here to think and get away from everyone."

"You're gay, I know it."

"Yeah, so what!?" I snapped and immediately wanted to take it back by Malfoy's face. "Remember, I'll blackmail you, I will!"

He snorted and shook his head. "Please! This is too good of gossip that I almost don't care about my secret."

"Almost."

"Yeah, well, you're too stupid."

"Go away."

He looked serious. "Look, I think we both are looking for some answers about ourselves, so I'll make you bargain."

"What?"

He rubbed the side of his face in a sort of nervous gesture. "I'll kiss you if you swear never to tell anyone."

"You'll what!?"

"Listen, you'll never know if you're gay unless you kiss another boy. And neither will I. So let's just do it and find out right now."

"You're crackers."

"Weasley, you think this is easy for me!?" he barked. "Let's just get it over with."

"No way. Not you."

"Then who else? You want Finnegan to have more gossip on you? Let's just do it, and it never leaves this room." He took a step toward me, and I took a step back to match. "Stop being stupid. This is just a practical arrangement."

I frowned at that. I had been thinking about finding someone to kiss for the past week or so. It was practical. "Fine, but it doesn't leave this room." He nodded resolutely and came toward me. I didn't move, even though I wanted to. We stood within a few centimetres of each other, him looking up at me.

"You have to lean down. I can't reach."

"Because you're short."

"You're obscenely tall." He grabbed the edge of my robes and pulled me down. We stared at each other, both looking equally serious as if this were a simple business deal. "Okay," he finally said.

"You should close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to think about you kissing me." He swallowed and closed his eyes, smothering the cold blue light that had been making me feel funny. I almost pulled away and told him this was stupid, but he parted his lips slightly, and I was taken. I pressed my mouth against his and had to direct the kiss with a hand in the back of his hair. He seemed awkward and unsure.

When I drew back, I looked at him in surprise. He bit at the inside of his lip. "You didn't even try."

"I did too," he murmured.

"Well, that was a horrible kiss!" He flushed pink as quickly as I got the words out. "What? I'm sure you knew it was horrible."

"I… Well, I was kissing you, Weasel."

"Yeah, but you didn't even kiss back."

"You took me by surprise!"

"Fine, then I won't surprise you this time! Here comes!" And I jerked him close, kissing him deeply. He melted against me, even letting me slip him a little tongue before pulling back. I nodded sharply. "Much better. Now I know."

"What?"

"I'm a flaming poff. You?"

"No."

"All right. Have a nice–" He had slipped back into my arms, drawing me back into another kiss. I was surprised, but his enthusiasm coaxed me back into it. I tugged on his lower lip, and he pressed closer to me. "You're acting very strange for a straight boy."

"Fine, I'll just leave, then."

"You don't have to. You said you wished girls were more like guys. Well, I'm guy enough. Let's have sex."

"No!"

"Why not? I won't tell anyone. And the bed's big. And I'm so repressed I might just scream." I nodded my head toward the bed, and he hesitated by the door. "Come on, what would it matter?"

"Because I'm not going to sleep with you."

"No sleeping involved."

"No."

"Come on, Malfoy! I'm serious. Not like I would tell anyone. Then people would know I slept with you."

"How can you even propose it when you call me by my last name!?"

I smiled a little and curled a stand of lovely blond hair behind his ear. "You're right, Draco. I wasn't thinking. Now stop being a woman, and let's get naked."

"Get away from me."

"What is wrong with you?" I pulled off my robes and started to unbutton my shirt. "I'll get naked first. Then you can. Sit on the bed."

"No."

"Come off it, Draco. We practically just made out. I know you're gay." I gave him a small push, and he sat on the bed. I tugged the shirt over my shoulders and off and unzipped my trousers.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I am." I slithered out of my pants and kicked them away. My socks soon fell on the pile. I stood in just my boxers, surprised I was even thinking about having sex with Malfoy. Draco. Whatever.

"Wow, very sexy strip show, Weasley.

"Ron."

"Whatever." I pushed him until he was lying down on the bed and took off his shoes. "I can undress myself."

"I want to." I pulled up his robes, and he complied, raising his arms to take them off. I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it open to reveal his slim, pale chest. My fingers skimmed his pink nipples, and he pushed me away. "Stop being so prissy."

"I don't want to do this."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't." I more purposefully touched his sensitive nipples, and he gasped. "Weasley, you…"

"Ron, you bastard. I'm serious." I unbuttoned his trousers. As I went to unzip them, he pulled away from me, scuttling halfway across the bed to sit with his back to me. "What is your problem?"

"Get away."

"Oh come on. You're playing hard to get, and it's boring." I looked at him, his shirt slipping over his thin shoulders gracefully. I slid onto the bed, crawling toward him. "Let's just do it."

"No."

"Why the hell not, man?"

"Because…" He either didn't want to tell me why, or he was just being a bastard. I slid my hand around to his stomach, my fingers going into his trousers. He yelped and shoved me away without much avail. I shook my head, not understanding his actions at all. I grabbed his wrist and then the other, holding him with one hand. I started to unzip his trousers while he was struggling away. When I finally got them undone and saw his thin white boxers, he finally said in a panic, "I'm a virgin, you asshole!"

I released him immediately, looking at him in incredulity and hilarity. "You're a…"

"Yes," he murmured. "It's all a lie. All of it."

"You're a…"

"Yes, you idiot!" he snapped, pouting a metre or so away from me. "Stop smiling. It's not funny."

"I… Sorry, it's not funny. I'm just shocked."

"Well, I guess it's over then."

"Nope, we're still going to do it. I'm just going to work you over properly." He gaped at me. "Now come here and let me get you naked, okay?"

"I am not losing my virginity to you."

"Oh, yes, you are." I grabbed his arm and pulled him close. He came despite his protests, and we sunk into another long kiss. I slipped his shirt off and worked the muscles in his lower back. He pushed against me harder, and I let him push me onto my back. It gave him the illusion of being dominant, but I only did it so I could squeeze his firm behind.

He freed his mouth from mine, breathing hard. I nibbled on his delicate throat and massaged his butt thoroughly. "Now you're just teasing," he whispered hoarsely. I guided him close to me and thrust upwards. Our clothed crouches rubbed together and he moaned prettily. "Bastard."

"Feel good?"

"You know it does." And I did. I repeated the motion until he was too out of breath to insult me.

I rolled him off me and got back to work getting his pants off. He watched me almost serenely as I pulled them off finally. His boxers were almost see-through. But, I made them really see-through. I jerked them off before he could react to stop me.

I was glad I had made him interested in doing this. His body was one long plain, streamlined very unlike mine. And he was a true blonde. A spattering of blond hairs decorated his cute navel and a crop of blond curls surrounded his erection. Now that he was naked, there was a slight pink tint to his pale skin. He just lay there, looking at me, trying to gauge my reaction. "What?" I questioned.

"Well, I'm naked, damn you. You can't just stare."

"What should I say? You're beautiful, get over it." I smoothed my hands down his slender hips, and he tensed, waiting to see if I'd touch him. I didn't. I skimmed the inside of his very creamy thighs with my thumbs, and he instinctively parted his legs a little. "Eager?"

"You wish."

I leaned over and licked a long line up his chest to his chin. "Want me to blow you while I'm at it?"

"Don't be foul. This is my first time. It's supposed to be… special."

"Fine, sorry. I'm being insensitive." I finally risked a tiny touch of my fingers to his erection. He hissed. "But you are being quite sensitive."

"Now what?" he murmured, embarrassed again.

"Now we do it."

"You put it in me?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to use protection?"

I looked at him, aghast. "Against what? You can't get pregnant, unless you're really good at hiding things from me."

"Against diseases that could kill me, you idiot."

"The only person I've ever slept with was a virgin."

"How do you know!?"

I raised my eyebrows at him a little. "With me, it's kind of hard for a virgin to be quiet when we're having sex. Or before, I guess."

"I don't understand."

"You will." I slid out of my boxers, freeing my painful length. He managed to look impressed and needy all at once.

"That will never fit."

"Same reaction the bitch had," I replied smoothly. "But it will."

"This is going to hurt, I assume."

"A little, but I'm going to make it as easy as I can on you."

"How?"

I grinned, my usual cocky, lop-sided grin. "I've learned every spell for enhancing sexual pleasure that there is. I've read every sex manual there is. We're set." I leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed the first wand I saw. It was his. "Here, I have to prepare you. So it hurts less."

"How?"

I parted his legs and he swallowed, allowing me to do so. I ran my fingers along the sensitive skin of his thighs and set his wand tip against the small hole behind his balls. "This may be a little cold."

"What are you…?"

I whispered, "Lubriae," and he gasped, not finishing the sentence. "Are you okay?"

"What was that?"

"A lubrication spell."

"It felt nice," he said faintly. I grinned and set the wand aside. "Now?"

"Merlin, no. That was just the beginning. This may hurt a little." I pulled him closer so I could comfort him while I was stretching. He whined as I inserted my fingertip. With my other hand I stroked his chest. "Tell me if you want to stop." I went as slowly as possible, fighting past his boundaries. "You have to relax and trust me."

"I'm trying, damn you," he breathed.

When my finger had finally sunk in all the way, I thought back to what I'd read about this. Experimentally, I wiggled my finger, and he gasped. "Does it hurt?"

"I can't tell. But don't stop yet." I brushed something, and he arched greatly, moaning. "Oh, Salazar, don't stop."

"I'm going to do two fingers." This time it was harder and slower and caused him more pain. I moved my fingers slightly, making him squirm.

"Now? Ron, now."

"No, you are so not ready. Just one more."

"I can't take another. I need to do it now." To appease him, I brushed the spot again, and he groaned, hand instinctively going to his erection.

"Don't do that."

"I need to," he whined.

I started to work in a third finger, and he became prone. His hand dropped away. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, you idiot. It does. Next time I'll fuck you and see how you like it." Next time? Interesting. I liked that idea.

"I don't want it to hurt."

"Neither do I."

I finally had three fingers stretching him. He looked tense, almost angry. "Hey, I'm sorry. We can stop."

"No."

I reached up and wrapped my hand around him, squeezing. He sighed lightly and pushed up into my hand, creating friction. Just the act loosened him, and I knew that was as good as it was going to get. I cast the lubrication charm on myself. "Are you ready?"

"Now?" he whispered. I nodded and guided myself to his opening. "Please, just do it."

"Relax." He took a deep breath. I braced my weight on one arm, and slowly began easing myself into him. He grasped my shoulder, clenching his teeth. I brushed his hair and face lightly, whispering to him. "I wish this was perfect."

"Fuck," he ground out slowly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." After many long minutes, I was seated inside of him. "Okay."

"It hurts. Salazar, it hurts." Tears decorated the corners of his eyes.

"Let's stop."

"No, let's not. You have to move, Ron, or it will never get better." I squeezed his length again and then pumped a few times. It again served to loosen him a bit. I drew out a little and pushed back in. "Aim for that place," he demanded.

"I am."

"Please, it feels good."

I pulled out a little farther and angled myself toward the spot that I'd touched before. He moaned deep in his chest, arching into the stroke. Each time I pulled out farther until we worked into a good rhythm. He was chanting my name wildly, hair stuck to his face. I pushed his knees practically to his chest with every stroke. I knew I was close. "Merlin, I'm going to…"

I reached down to stroke him and that made him squirm even more, body sinking into my every motion. "Ron, Ron," he murmured and finally fell over the edge. Everything inside of him tightened, and I was pulled over with him. I shot into him, panting and shaking. I fell on top of him, worn out. His trembling fingers came up to caress my hair. "That was amazing."

My heart swelled. "Are you hurt?"

"Well, I'm sure I can't walk, but there are pretty colours in my vision."

I pulled out of him and rolled onto my side, pulling him close. "So, ferret boy, how was your first time?"

He rested against me, looking worn out and insanely used. Our chests were sticking together with his come. "Okay. But I'm sure you can do better."

"We should shower." The second I said it, a door appeared in the room. I sighed and shook my head. "This room, really. Can you walk?"

"Not bloody likely."

I got off the bed, my legs still a little wobbly, and lifted him up. "Short and light. You need some meat on your bones."

"Don't tease me."

"Sorry."

The door led to a cozy bathroom where a bathtub of water had already been drawn. I set him down on the edge of it, and he sank in, hissing and sighing all at once. I watched him relax in the water then noticed the tint of red. "You're bleeding."

"What?"

"You're bleeding. Don't move." I went back into the Room of Requirement, getting my wand off the floor. When I went back, he was sitting up, staring at the blood in the water. "Come here. Get out so I can heal you."

"It stings."

"Come here, dammit," I murmured fiercely. He slid close to the edge of the tub and stepped out carefully. I gestured that he should lie down on the carpeted bathroom floor. Once he had, I spread his legs, peering at the hole I had so thoroughly ravaged. "Just a little rip," I said reassuringly. I healed him with my wand. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, now stop asking me that!" he barked. "I'm fine. You don't need to worry so much. I'm fine." He touched my face then got back into the bathtub. "Come and bathe with me."

"You're so sexy."

He gave me a smoldering look. "I'm serious. Get in." I stood and stepped into the tub, sinking down so we sat facing each other. "I think you're paler than I am."

"No way," I replied.

"Yes, I think you are." He laced our fingers together so I could compare my colouring against his. "You have freckles, but your skin is definitely lighter."

"Impossible."

He glared at me and sat back, still holding my hand. "Now we can dispel the rumours about your inadequacies."

"You're going to tell people?"

"Why the hell wouldn't I? I'm not a damn liar." I grinned at this, and he splashed water at me. I stared at him, surprised, and he laughed brightly. "I don't give a damn what they think!"

"Neither do I. What I care about is Snape being right about me."

"Wager he wants you between his legs as well."

"You're a pervert."

"No, Snape is really a pervert. He just doesn't let many people see it. I lived at his house for three months. I know. And I know he wants to do you."

"Ew."

"I'm sure he's very gentle."

"Ew again."

"Oh, Ron, come on. He's younger than your father." Draco cocked his head at me. "I think I'm developing a redhead fetish."

"Why?"

"Because I just love how your hair matches your…" He pointed down in the water. "Hair. I wasn't expecting it. I like it."

"I was surprised to find out are an actual blonde." On impulse I pulled him close and kissed him tenderly. "Go out with me."

"When?"

"Whenever. Just make sure you tell everyone I'm your boyfriend, and they better not fucking touch you."

"That's so cute." He brushed our noses.

"I think the sex has gone to your pretty little head." We both looked down into the water. "And apparently it's very happy to meet sex."

"I think you're right. I think they should meet again." I guess my other siblings had another sex god to compete with.

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