Fic: Cupid's Kills (H/D, R/P) - PG

Title: Cupid's Kills
Author: corvidae9
Play/scene/sonnet: Much Ado About Nothing
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Pansy
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~7500
Summary: Proof that there is good reason Gryffindor and Slytherin shouldn't mix, and equally conclusive proof that perhaps they should do so more often.
Warnings: DH non-compliance, misappropriation of the public domain, Shakespearean crack
Notes: Written for shakes_that_fic multi-fandom Shakespearathon, bunny thanks to the amazing merrycontrary, who went so far as to enable H/D, read it even though she wasn't done with her own assignment, and help me come up with a title just to get me to write this. I vote that means this belongs to her. ♥


Dramatis Personae:

Ron Weasley - A Gentleman of Gryffindor house, best friend to Harry and Hermione.
Pansy Parkinson - A Lady of Slytherin house, betrothed to Ron
Harry Potter - Yet another Gentleman of Gryffindor house, Savior of the Wizarding world, best friend to Ron and Hermione
Draco Malfoy - A Gentleman of Slytherin house, who is incidentally not impressed by titles such as 'savior' and resentful of any Weasley being referred to as a 'gentleman'. Best friend to Pansy.
Hermione Granger - A Lady of Gryffindor house, best friend to Ron and Harry, and equally resentful that there is such blatant gender discrimination inherent in referring to her equals as a 'gentleman' as opposed to a 'lady'. Thus hereafter would prefer to be referred to as a 'gentleman' (and not 'gentlewoman') as well.
Lavender Brown - A Lady of Gryffindor house, sometimes adversary to Ron and Hermione, recently reconciled.
Remus Lupin - Hogwarts Headmaster and Head of Gryffindor house
Severus Snape - Defense Professor at Hogwarts and Head of Slytherin house
Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode - Slytherin ladies, Friends and Minions to Pansy
Seamus Finnigan and Parvati Patil - Gryffindors, Friends and Minions to Lavender
Ernie McMillan - Head of Hogwarts Security, Hufflepuff
Eloise Midgen and Gregory Goyle - Hogwarts Security goons enforcers; Gentlepersons of Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively.


The Story So Far:

July, 2000 - The Slytherins were hard hit in the War; those that were alive at the end of it and either pardoned or acquitted of wrongdoing were being watched carefully, and would continue to be for a long time. The announcement of the marriage between Pansy Parkinson and Ron Weasley was a surprise to everyone outside their respective circles of friends and allies, but was generally regarded as a new start for everyone. No one was willing to take any chances with the security, therefore, the ceremony was scheduled to take place at Hogwarts, mid-July. Most everyone pertinent was already there, as they'd been involved in the continued rebuiling of the most damaged parts of the castle or teaching the students, thus setting the stage for the events that transpired next.

A small feast was scheduled two weeks before the wedding involving a masque, during which a plot was hatched by Ron, Hermione, Pansy, Daphne and Millicent to throw Harry and Draco together based on the premise that their continued bickering was just Unresolved Sexual Tension that needed resolving as soon as humanly possible. Headmaster Remus and Defense Professor Snape turned a benign, amused eye on the proceedings, lending a hand where they could do so discreetly.

The weeks passed in silly fun. Everyone was feeling good; better than they had in ages. Everyone except a very frustrated Harry and Draco, being the subjects of the great experiment. They kept running into one another and somehow coming to the individual decisions that perhaps there was something to this UST thing, yet both were still too stubborn to admit it.

Things however went to hell two nights before the wedding, when Lavender came forth and told Ron (along with Hermione) that she'd seen Pansy practicing the Dark Arts. She led them to where Parvati (polyjuiced as Pansy) was working a nasty little spell, making clear to her faceless client that it wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. Ron, so angry at the deception that he couldn't see straight, decided that the only way to truly pay Pansy back would be to wait until the wedding, and expose her in front of the assembled group. Hermione, equally angry and betrayed, did nothing to stop this really bad plan, and no one said anything to Harry.

We pick up the tale on the fateful wedding day-- one in which Ron has done exactly what he'd planned, leaving a garden full of stunned partygoers to trickle away, confused. Pansy is enraged, incensed, hurt and in immediate receipt of a Ministry owl requesting that she report the following Monday for investigation into the allegations. Draco is angry beyond words on behalf of his oldest friend. Harry is beyond shellshocked. Snape rails first against Pansy for betraying his trust, but is then stayed by Remus and Draco, along with Pansy's assertion that the allegations are utter bullshit.

Pansy makes an offhand comment about flinging herself from the Astronomy Tower as a solution to everyone's problems, Remus latches on to it and the decision is made to lie and say that she has done so until the source of the deceit can be traced. Harry swears that 'something really bad' must've happened to convince Ron and Hermione of Pansy's duplicity, is determined to find out what that might've been, and swears that he won't say a word about the plan regarding Pansy.

Snape and Remus go off to plot, Daphne and Millicent lead Pansy away, and Draco is left shoving potted plants off of ledges and kicking over chairs in the courtyard gardens that had not so long ago been carefully hung with trailing vines and live plants. Re-enter Harry, who just can't walk away from Draco knowing the sort of state he's in...




Act IV, Scene I

"Hi."

Draco looked up from where he was seated on the edge of the fountain, the broken shards of pots he'd kicked over strewn at his feet. Potter was quietly returning, hands were shoved far into the pockets of his dress trousers, tie undone, collar askew.

Cursing his twice-damned heart for skipping a beat in the face of everything that had gone on, Draco growled, "Fuck off, Potter," and returned his attention to the ground. A few hours ago it had seemed possible to reclaim the days in which there might have been secretly requited affection and stupid juvenile intrigues, but now they were all right back to suspecting one another of deadly stupidities. And yet, Potter only continued his steady approach.

"I'm-- I still don't know what to say about what happened. Are you alright?"

Shocked that Potter seemed to be in earnest, Draco deigned to look at him again so that he could snarl, "Do I bloody well look alright?"

"About as alright as I feel," said Potter, eyes focused on the broken pottery too as he sat heavily and uncomfortably close to Draco. "I just can't believe that Pansy would do something like that, not after everything we've been through... and I can't believe that Ron would act like such a bastard if he wasn't truly convinced that she had. Nor that Hermione would let him get away with it if she weren't completely convinced, either."

"Then you're a moron, as the Weasel's been a bastard for as long as I've known him," said Draco. "Pansy didn't do it; I've known her all my life, and I've spent practically every waking hour with her for the past year. The closest we've come to dark hexes since the end of the war are when we're deciding what we could get away with using on the stupid. Like you. "

Potter actually let the jibe lie, and Draco's hand twitched toward his wand, scowl gone deadly. "Were it not for the terms of my so-called pardon, I would rip the Weasel limb from limb, then reassemble him to do it again."

Mumbling under his breath as he did, Potter's response was intelligible.

"Say again?" said Draco, fixing him with a glare that dared him to do so.

"Isn't there anything else that can be done?" Potter said instead, and though Draco caught a change in syllables, he took it at face value, too angry to do otherwise.

"Nothing I can manage. I have to sit here and hope that Severus and Lupin's ridiculous scheme will fix it because there isn't a damn thing I can do about it myself."

Potter shifted closer and laid a hand on Draco's wand arm, and stopped the shaking that Draco hadn't noticed.

"How sick is it that I want to help you?" said Potter, his eyes bright though clearly tired, brow furrowed with worry and... nerves?

"No moreso than any other inane, bleeding-heart idea you've ever had," muttered Draco, grudgingly overcome by Potter's proximity; his warm hand and soft-spoken concern. "How sick is it that I want to believe you're serious?"

"I... these last few weeks..." Potter swallowed loudly, comically so, his thumb moving in unconscious circles on the exposed skin just under the edge of Draco's shirtsleeve.

"If you're madly in love with me, just say so and then I can mock you properly and move on," said Draco with an eyeroll that wasn't anywhere near authentic.

"I am," said Potter in what had to be one of his fits of chronic Gryffindorism. "'Mad' is a good word for it. And I don't care."

Draco blinked and tried to pull his hand away, but Potter had a good grip on him and Draco wasn't trying all that hard.

"Bollocks!"

"Don't tell me you don't feel what's going on here," said Potter.

"You can't even say it!" Draco finally shook him off and stood. "You sound like a bad melodrama!"

"Fine. I love you. Are you happy?"

"How? How would that make me happy?"

"Don't be an idiot. I know you feel the same."

Draco's jaw worked but he couldn't manage to form the words to refute it, even in the face of Potter's incipient gloat. Fortunately he was kept from an eloquent, "Nuh-uh!" by Potter's mouth descending onto his, and oh-- perfect. 'Fortune' was in fact the exact word for it, the gesture a hundred times more well-spoken then either of them could ever hope to be in the presence of the other. Draco's fingers tangled through Potter's hair, settling into his arms as though he belonged there and surprised only that there was no audible 'click' when they fit together. Perhaps it was more that it had been subsumed by the tsunami rush of blood past his ears.

"Please," murmured Potter eventually, setting his forehead against Draco's. "Is there anything I can do?"

Draco shut his eyes and said, "Kill Weasley and we'll talk," knowing it was sabotage and saying it all the same.

"Ngh-" said Potter, pained. "Not for the wide world and you in it."

"Then we're done here," Draco said, taking an abrupt step back while averting his face.

"Wait--"

"The Weasel just destroyed years of work and broke my best friend's heart. What good did love do her?" Draco shouted, flushed and lip shaking with impotent rage.

"Malfoy--"

"She trusted him and he treated her like trash. And he needs to pay for it and I can't make that happen without damning us all again!"

Potter's jaw was set. He nodded once as though agreeing with whatever twisted inner monologue was running through his mind, then stretched his hand out to cup Draco's cheek. Surprisingly enough, Draco didn't move away.

"You're right. What he did wasn't right at all, and he needs to answer for it."

Draco stared at the wizard standing before him.

"Who the bloody hell are you and what have you done with that prat, Potter?"

Potter managed the barest of sideways smirks.

"I'm just Harry. Maybe you should pay closer attention." He paused and ran the pad of his thumb along Draco's jaw and let his hand slide down the side of Draco's neck.

"You're sure Pansy isn't doing what they accused her of?"

"Without question," said Draco, trying not to focus on the warmth and weight of Potter's hand. "It's a filthy lie, and if Weasley isn't behind it, he's fool enough to have believed whoever is."

Another short silence followed, then Potter nodded again, set the flat of his hand against his own chest and offered up a shallow bow. "I'll deal with it. With him."

Draco could only continue to stare as as Harry --Damn it all to hell-- executed a clean turn on his heel and strode away.

###

Act V, Scene I

"Oh, there they are. They're heroes, did you know, Lupin?"

"Severus, please," Remus hissed under his breath, adding more loudly, "Ron. Hermione. Good afternoon. We were just going."

Ron didn't turn his red-rimmed eyes in Snape's direction as he and Hermione walked past, merely mumbling, "Hey, Remus."

"I'm sure you've heard the news by now," said Snape.

Hermione took hold of Ron's elbow and tugged him forward. "Yes, and we're all very sorry to hear it, but I'm afraid we have somewhere to be."

"Of course! Your job is done now, isn't it, Miss Granger? You've destroyed every shred of trust we all worked to build to stop your compatriot there from wedding the enemy, after all. Tell me, did you want him for yourself, or are you just that afraid of becoming obsolete?"

"Your pet lied to your face," Hermione said, eyes narrowed at Snape. "In fact, had been lying since before the end of the war, likely, to you as much as anyone else. Stings, doesn't it?"

"Hermione, stop," said Ron, hoarse, eyes drowned blue and downcast. "Let's just go."

"Yes, do go," said Snape, sneering right back at Hermione. "Go crow over how successfully you managed to kill your childhood foe and finally get your revenge."

"Severus," murmured Remus warningly, tugging him back a step as well. "Please."

"It is not my fault that stupid chit tossed herself off of the bloody Astronomy Tower!" screeched Hermione and this time Ron simply wrapped his arm around her and pulled her away.

"Hermione!" he said, low, voice cracking. "Let's just go."

Snape, who had never looked so angry in Ron's recollection, pointed his finger at Ron and snarled, "Miss Parkinson loved you and you killed her. Never forget that. If I cannot take it out of your miserable hide now, know that one day, I will find a way."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have been paying closer attention to the things she was lying about before you get all self-righteous with anyone else," Ron said, moving away with Hermione in tow.

"If I were you, I'd be cautious in throwing around words like 'self-righteous'," said Remus, low and loaded with disappointment and disapproval. "Good day."

Remus' words continued to sting as he and Snape disappeared down the corridor. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look filled with regret.

"Are you sure we did the right thing?" asked Ron, and Hermione could only shrug.

"You saw the same thing I did. She didn't have to... do what she did. She could have stood trial like everyone else."

Ron scrubbed a hand down his face. "I know but-- Oh! Hey, Harry."

Harry vaulted the last stair and didn't stop moving until he was right up in Ron's face. "Hi."

"God. This is a nightmare, mate," said Ron. "Hermione and Snape almost threw down a second ago."

"Shame I missed it," Harry mumbled. "Sort of how I missed the whole part where you went from stupid in love to a vindictive little shite and took Hermione with you. When did that happen, again?"

Hermione scowled. "Right when Lavender took us to see Pansy recreating curses we haven't seen in the two years since the war ended. With glee."

"And the part where you didn't tell me about either it or your little plan?" said Harry. "The part where you acted like... I don't even know what. An animal."

"Oh, Come on," scoffed Ron.

"She's dead, Ron!" shouted Harry. "It's not a joke. Do you know how many times she covered my back? How many times she saved my arse? How many lives you ruined just to feel like you won?"

Ron shook his head quickly, beginning to feel hunted. "She was using the Dark Arts again, Harry. People needed to know."

"Were you so ready to believe it that you didn't even investigate further?" said Harry, shoving Ron's shoulder while Hermione stood by, eyes huge. "Didn't bother to tell me?"

"...Well. With how you've been... you know. Attached to Malfoy lately..." said Hermione, but she didn't finish the sentence before Harry went on.

"Bollocks. I've been attached to both of you since we were eleven. You were afraid I'd stop you. And for good reason."

A single, fat tear rolled down Ron's cheek and he scrubbed it away furiously.

"'S enough," he rasped and looked away. "We should probably get out of here."

Harry took another step and grabbed Ron by the shirt, forcing his attention back.

"And we will. After you answer to me," Harry snarled. "Midnight, tomorrow. The Great Hall. Pansy can't defend herself anymore, but I bloody well can. And will."

Hermione gasped, "Harry, no!" but he didn't seem to hear her.

Ron only dropped his eyes and mumbled, "Ok."

Harry gave him a shake and let him go, and didn't say anything else as he walked away.

"He's serious," said Hermione, tone hollow and still shocked.

"He should be," answered Ron in much the same voice, only a little more broken.

"Malfoy must have put him up to it. Looks like our little joke with the two of them went too far."

Ron shook his head and slung his arm over Hermione's shoulders. "No. This time, I think that was just us."

"Coming through!" shouted Ernie as he rounded the corner and came into view. He strode in, chest puffed out, chin up, his 'Hogwarts Security' badge polished impossibly bright and attached to breast pocket of his robes. "Excuse me, please. I've got a pair of liars and murderesses here that must be handed over to the Headmaster forthwith, please."

"I'm not a murderess, jackass!" protested a familiar voice, its owner confirmed as Seamus followed, restrained at the elbow by Goyle, who hulked over him, making him seem far smaller than any first year.

"Quiet, you," grumbled Goyle. "Don' talk to MacMillan like that."

Parvati followed next similarly restrained by a scowling Eloise. The moment Ron and Hermione came into view, she burst into hysterical, blubbering tears.

"I swear! I didn't know she was going to kill herself! Lavender said--"

"'Vati, shut up!" Seamus hissed.

Ron and Hermione cut in front of Ernie, Ron's hand out to make it absolutely clear that Ernie was to stop, in case he'd missed his glaring cue to do so.

"What the hell's going on, mate?"

Inflating even further at Ron's question, Ernie planted his fists on his hips and blustered, "Funny you should ask. I caught these two winsome harpies gloating over being so glad Brown had handed over the Galleons for their hand in slandering Pansy before she disappeared. Of all the nerve! Gloating! In my castle!"

Ron wasn't paying attention to Ernie anymore, not really. He shoved him aside and moved to stand right up in Seamus' space.

"What did you do?" he growled. Seamus' face went ashen and he tried to take a step back, but Goyle held him fast. Parvati whimpered in sympathy.

"I swear," he said pleadingly. "I didn't know Pansy would... do that. Lavender said that no one would believe it unless they heard it from you and--"

"What did you DO?" Ron roared in his face, and Hermione did nothing to stop him.

Seamus shut his eyes and said nothing further, but Parvati wailed, "It wasn't Pansy you saw! It was me. I was polyjuiced."

Ron could only stare, flushing so hard he felt as though he was on fire. His fingers twitched with the urge to throttle them both and he took no comfort in the fact that Eloise gave Parvati a shake hard enough to rattle her teeth together.

"But that means..." said Hermione, sounding as horror-stricken as Ron felt.

Without warning, Ron turned away and threw a nearby suit of armor from its stand with a howl of rage and turned away, covering his face with his hands. "She's gone," he breathed. "God help me, I did kill her."

Silent tears tracked down Hermione's face. She moved closer and set a hand on his back.

In the heavy silence that was marred only by Parvati's sniffling, Seamus whispered, "I'm so sorry. I just thought-- she said--"

Hermione turned to face Seamus and the temperature dropped. Literally. Terror shone in Seamus' eyes as a cold wind swept up behind him and Hermione's arm came up, wand in hand. "You're only sorry you were caught. As well you should be--"

"What's going on here?" said Remus, coming up from behind and pushing Hermione's hand downward and away, his eyes on Seamus. "What's this about Pansy?"

Ernie immediately stepped between them despite the fact that Hermione didn't look a bit cowed and volunteered, "I caught them, Headmaster. They're vicious beasts, and Gryffindors to boot --no offense-- and they've done a terrible thing between them. Why the Prophet is going to have a field day with--"

Snape was next to cut him off, sidestepping him to confront Seamus. His hand closed on the Gryffindor's chin, forcing his eyes up, and didn't have to say anything at all.

"I lied," Seamus said in a small voice. "Pansy wasn't practicing Dark Arts. It was Parvati polyjuiced as Pansy."

All Snape said was, "Why?" and yet it was a more convincing threat than any yet.

"Lavender said that Pansy had fooled Ron into marrying her; that they were doing it for appearances and, and-- it's not right," he said, his voice gaining steam and strength. "It's just wasn't right, I knew it. I didn't trust her, either."

"Well done, Mr. Finnigan," Snape said, his voice a low snarl, holding his gaze for a moment longer before releasing his chin. "You've done exactly as you planned. When you look back on this over the course of the very confined remainder of your life, you should feel no mean sense of accomplishment."

"You can't hurt me," Seamus said, though he didn't sound anywhere near certain. "And the Ministry certainly can't hold me. What would the charge be? Lying?"

"Conspiracy to commit murder, to begin with," said Remus.

"What?!" sputtered Seamus.

"Mr. Goyle, Miss Midgen, would you please take them to my office while Mr. MacMillan contacts the Ministry?"

Parvati only cried harder over the named parties' murmurs of, "Yes, sir." Ernie shot them a dirty look as he addressed Remus.

"Right thing to do if you ask me. No good can come of those two now. Why--"

"Thank you, Mr. MacMillan," said Remus with some finality, but Ernie only grinned.

"Yes, Headmaster," he said, beaming with pride but definitely not moving. "I certainly do take pride in the job I do. Fear me, ruffians of all stripes! Your days are number--"

"You may go now, Mr. MacMillan," said Remus in a voice that threatened to break into a growl, adding grudgingly, "Err. Well done."

Ernie positively glowed with pleasure as he affected a very formal bow. "Thank you, Headmaster. I'll just go now, then. Please excuse me."

A heavy silence fell over the remaining assembled group once Ernie's self-congratulatory monologue faded into the distance. Snape had crossed his arms and was glaring daggers at Ron, who in turn looked miserable and heartbroken. After another interminable minute, Ron finally tried to speak, failed, cleared his throat and began again.

"I swear. I didn't know. I just thought--"

"You didn't think," Snape snarled. "You lashed out like a bloody stupid Gryffindor."

Eyes narrowed at the slight, Remus said nonetheless, "Severus is right. And no amount of apology can fix the damage you've done. Public opinion is already out of control-- I've received five Floo messages and countless owls demanding that I disperse Slytherin house and discharge any and all old members from staff."

"But you're not, are you?" asked Hermione, alarmed. "You can't- that wouldn't be right, they didn't--"

"Defending Slytherins now, Granger?" said Snape.

"Stop," Ron said, low but forceful, moving forward to stand directly in front of Snape, head bowed and looking for all the world like a penitent.

"This is my doing. I should have-- I didn't have to do what I did," he stopped and took a deep breath. "It's too late to fix now, but I am, I swear, I'm so sorry." There was another brief pause in which Snape sneered and made to speak, but Ron went on. "I give to you my word and my bond to perform any service of your choosing, any act of recompense should it require my lifeblood and the sum total of my fortunes to achieve in order to right the wrong that I have done to you and yours."

Remus and Snape stared at Ron, stunned. Hermione looked from one to the other, increasingly agitated as she took in their expressions. "What just--"

"I maybe didn't get the words exactly right," said Ron. "But I think it still holds."

The Headmaster and the Defense professor exchanged a brief look before Snape spoke again. When he did, it was without hesitation.

"It does. Most glaring of the damage is that to the reputation and continued safety of the surviving Slytherins. You are to hold a very public press conference in Diagon Alley this evening and clarify the chain of events as they occurred, preferably making clear that it was a Gryffindor that authored this farce. You will then spend the remainder of the night at the Parkinson family crypt and make what reparations you may there. Perhaps you will at last learn discretion once you find that there is no forgiveness to be had at the feet of a corpse."

Ron's face was still turned downward. "Yes, sir," he agreed with a decisive nod, voice thick, but Snape was not done.

"You will then return here tomorrow and the wedding will continue as planned, if a day delayed."

"Wh-" sputtered Ron, his head snapping up to peer at Snape. "Huh?"

"You've said it yourself on countless occasions. The union was proof that even the bitterest of enemies could be reconciled, and that in the end, houses alone are not an indication of character. You must make good on this, Weasley, and if it takes your marrying Miss Parkinson's second, then so be it."

"...Pansy had a second? For a wedding?" Hermione said under her breath.

"Yes," said Snape, his accusing gaze finally sliding from Ron to her. "Much as you are his."

"Oh," she squeaked.

"Noon, sharp, Weasley."

"Yes sir. I'll be there."

"So be it," said Snape, who then exited in a swirl of inky black robes.

Remus inclined his head toward Ron and Hermione and said quietly, "Until tomorrow," and then he was gone too.

"Let's go," Hermione sighed, her shoulders drooping as she slid her hand around Ron's elbow. "We have a conference to assemble."

###

Scene II

Harry jogged through the western courtyard of the castle after his meeting with Ron and Hermione. Though he felt he'd done the right thing, he was hounded by a lingering sense of having broken significantly with them somehow. His heart was heavy and in need of mending, and of all the improbable ways in which to acquire such, least improbable after this morning was his mission to seek out Malfoy.

"Daphne!" He called as he caught sight of the slight brunette, just about to reenter the castle by way of a darkened staircase leading downward. "Wait up!"

Daphne paused and eyed him with suspicion.

"What for, Potter?"

"Would you - err. Do you suppose you could let Draco know I'm here?"

"Draco, now is it?" she said, standing hipshot and arms crossed. "Haven't you all done enough damage today?"

"Yes," acknowledged Harry. "And I've done what I can to make it right. I just wanted... to let him know."

Taken aback, Daphne shifted her weight from one foot to another, though her arms loosened ever so slightly.

"What's in it for me?"

"...My unending gratitude and devotion?" answered Harry, automatically playful in his attempt to ingratiate himself with her. It may or may not have worked; Daphne laughed what was not quite a laugh and answered in kind.

"Going to start composing sonnets to me, now, too?"

"...Too?" Harry asked, somewhat in terror that anyone might know just what he'd been writing by candlelight as of late, but Daphne only snickered again.

"I'll get him," she said, turning her back and moving away, though she added in a murmur that drifted up as she descended, "God knows why."

"Thank you!" he called after her. The door at the bottom of the stairs clanked shut. "Really appreciate your enabling my opportunity to make a fool of myself," Harry muttered to no one in particular. He set himself to pacing the courtyard while trying not to look as though he were pacing, stopping to inspect the weathered gargoyle that looked like--

"You called, oh great one?" drawled Draco. Harry turned and caught sight of him leaning unconcerned against the stone support nearest the staircase, one foot crossed in front of the other. He couldn't help but smile.

"You came," said Harry, sounding a little more glad than he had intended.

"I did. Now if you're quite through, I'll go, too--"

"Wait!"

Draco paused in the process of turning away and frowned. "Have you spoken to the Weasel as of yet?"

"I have," said Harry. "It-- went about as well as you'd expect." He crept up and tried to take Draco's hand. "I don't really want to talk about it. Can we please talk though?"

"No," growled Draco, pulling his entire arm away. "How do I know you're not just saying that? How do I know you're not part of their wretched little plan?

"I'm not." Harry sighed and shrugged, the defeat and pain clear on his face. "I challenged Ron to a duel at midnight tomorrow on Pansy's behalf and whatever happens... I suppose I'll have to deal with it then."

Draco studied him for a long moment, then grimaced again.

"You're really serious."

"Believe me," said Harry, "I wish I wasn't."

After another short pause, Draco used the same hand he'd pulled away to reel a surprised, yet pliant Harry in by the waist and nuzzled the line of his jaw. "For what it's worth, I'm s-- it's a shame that's what it came to. Stupid Gryffindors."

Though his eyes were tired and red-rimmed, Harry huffed a laugh and bent his head toward Draco, draping one arm over his shoulder. "I suppose I can't argue with that today. You must a fondness for stupid."

"Yes, well," Draco said with a half-smirk, his eyes darting up to Harry's mouth. "I'm afraid stupid things are easy to become reluctantly fond of. They follow you around and don't give a damn that you despise them."

"Who's the stupid one, kissing things you despise, then?" murmured Harry.

"Who said I was going to kiss you?" said Draco, his lips brushing Harry's cheek, making it clear there was no real threat behind his words.

"Everyone," Harry half said and half breathed, his mouth descending on Draco's with no further resistance or preamble, fingers dragging up the back of his neck and through his hair. He lost track of the flow of one kiss to another in favor of the slide of tongue and lips and the hands spidering up his stomach and chest. He couldn't have said how long they stayed there, nor when his back hit the cool stone pillar, nor did he care to.

"Ugh. If I'm ever caught snogging a Gryffindor, just curse me--" Daphne groaned loudly. Harry and Draco pulled apart as though burned, flushed and mussed, Harry's shirt half untucked.

"Can I help you?" asked Draco, dripping sarcasm as he raked a hand through his hair.

"Actually no," said Daphne, grinning hugely and-- was that a bounce up onto the balls of her feet? "But I can help you. Macmillan just fell facefirst onto the heart of the mystery. It turns out that Seamus Finnigan and Parvati Patil set Pansy up on Lavender Brown's orders, and even went so far as to lie and polyjuice right to Granger and Weasley's face."

Harry's eyes went wide. "I knew it!" He squeezed Draco's hand, but Draco quickly took it back with a dirty look.

"That doesn't remedy the Weasel's boorish b-- wait--" Draco turned a burgeoning smirk back on Daphne. "Brown, Finnigan and Patil. All Gryffindors?"

Daphne nodded with a breathless giggle. "I would've waited for you to tell Pansy, but Snape and Lupin beat me there." she rolled her eyes up and made a huffy sound of disbelief. "I think she's still planning to marry the Weasel tomorrow, but if he's not sporting at the very least a blacked eye in the photos after, I'll be the first to publicly declare the fact that she's slipping in her old age. Would you hurry up and get in here?"

"I knew it," Harry repeated.

"Yes, you're very clever," agreed Daphne and dragged them both downstairs.

###

Scene III

As promised, Ron stood in the Parkinson family crypt, his hand spread over the cold marble space that was too fresh to bear a nameplate, head bowed and heart absolutely broken.

"I'm so, so sorry," he rasped, sniffed and wiped at his face with the other hand. "This is my fault. I did this."

Hermione stood silently by his side the rest of the night through.

###

The next day went as well as could be expected. Ron and Hermione showed in their wedding finery and expressions more suited to a funeral. They met Harry just outside of the rehabilitated courtyard right on time, where he greeted them looking just as angry as he had the last time he'd seen them. Ron tried to show him the special editions of both the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler featuring two separate exclusive interviews regarding the scandal, but Harry waved it off with a shake of his head. The only interest he had, he'd said, was in making sure that the right thing was done.

They'd walked up the aisle between somber-faced guests to where three women stood veiled, and when Snape declared that his bride should show her face, it was Pansy who presented herself to a wincing Ron, back straight, chin up.

###

Scene IV

"Pansy?!" Ron sputtered, lunging forward to take her face in his hands. "Oh my God, is it really you? Oh God, Oh God, I'm so sorry--"

Pansy smiled sweetly and tilted her head, nodding as best she could before pulling away and pressing a kiss to his fingertips. "Ron?"

"Anything, love. I can't believe it; I'm so sorry," Ron babbled, completely oblivious to the crowd around him. Specifically oblivious to Daphne's incipient cringe, he didn't see it coming at all when Pansy pulled her arm back and punched him in the face, swinging from the shoulder and connecting just right using the two largest knuckles of her right hand. He fell backward onto his arse, and she stomped forward, crouched over him and took hold of his collar to shout into his face.

"You miserable bastard! Do you have any idea what you could have done? You couldn't have asked me first?" She shook him hard, but he didn't protest, he only held onto her elbows as the cherry red fist-sized patch side of his face began to swell. "I would have taken Veritaserum for you, you stupid Weasel! You ruined my wedding! You almost ruined my life! Swear to God that you've learned your miserable, stupid, sodding lesson." By now her voice had taken on a more scratchy quality, and her final shout of, "Swear it!" was gurgly as the tears rolled off of her chin and fell onto Ron's upturned face. "You stupid git. I would have done anything to prove it. How could you?"

Draco leaned into Harry's side, and actually sighed. "That's my girl."

Harry knew better than to comment further. He slipped his arm tight around Draco's waist, nosed his ear and tried not to wince in sympathy as Ron took another hard slap to the face before tugging Pansy down into his lap and finally claiming a kiss that didn't seem to end. Lupin tried to restore order while Snape threw up his hands in disgust and Millicent, Daphne, Hermione and most of the reconstructed guest list all either cheered or cried messily and without reserve.

"Can we please have this wedding now?" asked Lupin with some exasperation. "Please?"

###

They did. And once the cheering died down after the officiant's declaration (finally) of Ron and Pansy as husband and wife, Harry hugged first Pansy, then Ron tightly, then stood back to let Hermione do the same, then pulled both Ron and Hermione both in one last time.

"For the record, I wasn't looking forward to kicking your arse, mate," Harry murmured. Hermione smacked him and wiped away another tear.

"I wasn't looking forward to having my arse kicked. Would've put up a good fight, though," said Ron with a hoarse chuckle.

Harry laughed and shoved him, then caught Draco's eye around a hugging Pansy and Daphne. "I may have to borrow some of your spotlight--"

Incredulous, Ron followed his gaze. "You're joking."

"I told you!" hissed Hermione with a laugh as Harry pulled away and scrubbed a hand up the back of his neck, flushed brighter than he had been in years.

"Hey. Malfoy," said Harry quietly, though it managed to be heard by everyone that hadn't already been ushered out the back of the courtyard and on their way to the Great Hall.

"Potter," Draco answered with a careful sneer. "What could you possibly want?"

"I don't know," shrugged Harry. "What do you want?"

"Money. Obscene amounts of creature comforts. The adulation of the general populace," said Draco shifting to stand hipshot, though the effect was ruined when Daphne shoved him forward, giggling. "Your turn."

"That's not the way I hear it," said Harry.

"No?"

"The way I heard it, you were absolutely desperate to get your hands on me."

"Ha!" scoffed Draco. "I heard you'd been desperately crushed on me for years."

"Pfft! Your Pansy there assured me that you were miserable without even a chance to prove yourself worthy of me."

"Worthy!" Draco's nose wrinkled and he took a step closer. "Please. Your trained monkeys there were sure you'd be breaking into my rooms to recite sonnets at any moment."

"So you wouldn't really give a damn if I just walked away right now?" said Harry, brow furrowed and leaning.

"Not one," said Draco, "Would you?"

For a moment, Harry found his stomach dropping in dread that Draco might actually mean it.

"Oh come on," said Pansy. "No one buys that. Draco just tell Potter you love him and be done with it."

"Please," said Draco. "He's put on a pretty show these last few days, but--"

"Liar. You are sick, sad and gone," said Daphne.

"Ha!" said Harry, but Daphne cut him off.

"Be quiet. You're just as bad if not worse. I saw you both in the garden yesterday."

Abashed, Harry looked to Ron and Hermione, who both shrugged. The color rose in his face again and he nodded, casting his gaze heavenward.

"You saw us, huh?"

"And I heard all about it," said Pansy helpfully, leaning in against Ron.

"Did you?" said Harry, meeting Draco's eyes and unable to keep up any semblance of being anything but well and truly smitten. Every doubt in his head fell away and all he could do was grin.

"That's pathetic," said Draco, licking his lower lip. "An amateurish mistake."

"C'mere," said Harry with a smirk, curling his fingers into the front of Draco's shirt. "I don't want to embarrass you in front of all your friends."

"Please," said Draco, but he went willingly, dropping his hands onto Harry's waist. "If that were the case you'd admit to having bewitched me or someth--"

At first, watching them kiss was truly inspiring. After about a minute, however, the general consensus was that it was likely time to go. When the bouquet hit Draco on the side of the head, he tried to wave it off distractedly, but Pansy was suddenly in his line of sight over Harry's shoulder.

"Stop stealing my scene," she said, laughing as she smacked him with it again.

"Busy here, darling," he murmured, grinning stupidly when Harry buried a laugh against his throat. "Go on and have your party. We'll be right in."

Pansy dropped the bundle of ill-abused flowers at his feet, pausing to glare at Ginny who had hung back from the crowd and was eyeing them hungrily.

"Back off, Girl Weasel. Err. Sister dear," Pansy said with a toothy grin. "That bouquet is spoken for."

"It is," mumbled Harry, beginning to pull away to follow their friends.

Draco didn't give him much of a chance to think about it. He took Harry's chin in hand and pulled his attention back, smirking.

"It is?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Um--"

This time, he was interrupted by a full chorus of, "It is."

###

And then there was an epic reception that earned its own reporting supplement in the Prophet society pages, followed by yet another once word spread about the last Malfoy scion taking up by all accounts comfortable (and loud) residence with the Savior of the Wizarding World in his Godric's Hollow home.

And after that? As you can guess, they all lived happily ever after. This was a comedy, after all.


###
###

"Hello?" called Parvati, her hair bound up in a colorless gray bandanna, her eyes turned up toward the tiny circle of light at the end of the stone tunnel overhead. She made a face and peered at her forearm, finally settled on the cleanest bit and used it to wipe at her forehead. "Oh God. My skin." She looked up again and shouted, "Hello? This just isn't fair! I need to wash up before I eat this miserable gruel that passes for lunch? I am allotted fifteen minutes of exposure to the sun per day! Hello?!"

"Would you shut up for once, 'Vati?" grumbled Seamus, holding a sponge just the twin of the one that Parvati held in his left hand, and a shovel in the other. "We're mucking out the bloody Chamber of Secrets and you're worrying about your skin and a little dirt on your hands."

"It's not dirt! It's... it's..." She threw up her hands. "Dead Basilisk and mildew and... ugh. Bones. Bones, Seamus! Of dead things!"

"Be glad you're not in Azkaban! Or that you weren't 'mysteriously attacked by magical creatures unknown' while trying to flee prosecution!" Poor Lavender.

Pouting, Parvati turned her face up again. "Hello?! May I please have some hand sanitizer and a corresponding moisturizer at the very least? HELLO?!"

Seamus only stared at her in disgust. "I am in Hell."

###

See? Comedy.

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