Inked Dragons

In the Middle of Something

'OI... HARRY... MATE... YOU HOME...?'

Harry hit the floor with a panicked 'oof' as Ron's dulcet tones echoed up through Grimmauld Place followed by thunderous footsteps on the stairs. At the same time, Draco rolled off the other side of the bed, taking the white bedding with him as he hid from the pending intrusion upon what had been an utterly compromising position. Draco's heart was beating hideously. He was aware the day had come when Harry's friends would find out exactly who it was that Harry was sleeping with... in a relationship with... unofficially living with... and he still wasn't ready, especially not like this.

'You didn't need to push me off so violently,' Harry hissed.

'Shut up, Potter...' Draco snapped, mostly in frustration, he'd been seconds away... now he positively ached.

The door banged open just as Harry stood up. He hurriedly tried to cover rapidly diminishing erection with his hands and failed desperately.

'There you are, mate... oh—'

'Ron, maybe you should knoc... oh...' Hermione said, stepping out from behind the tall redhead and glancing over Harry's naked body without an ounce of shame.

'Oh, indeed,' said Harry, skirting towards the bed and grabbing a pillow to try and provide a modicum of decency. He also rammed his glasses on so he could glare at his best friends properly.

'Hello, Harry, were you busy?' Hermione said gleefully.

'You could say that I was in the middle of something,' he muttered.

'It's a Saturday afternoon, mate,' said Ron.

'Yes, I'm aware. Still, don't worry yourselves,' he added sarcastically, 'the moment's passed now...'

There was an awkward silence as they all stood there, no one moving but both Ron and Mione looking at Harry... a very naked Harry, bar his glasses and a pillow covering the important bits.

There was a slight rustling of shifting movement from the floor on the other side of the bed.

'Oh...' said Ron, 'you're not alone...?'

'Indeed,' repeated Harry, conscious that Hermione was looking at the reflection of his back in the tall mirror that was propped against the wall behind him.

Ron was utterly unaware that his wife was staring at his best friend's naked reflection in the mirror because his gaze was fixed to the far side of the bed, as if convinced a monster was about to leap out.

'You've decorated in here,' Hermione observed.

'Yes, about a month ago. It was all looking a bit tired and it's time I took the house in hand. Made it mine, that sort of thing...'

'I'm surprised you went with off-white,' Hermione stated. 'There's a French feel to it. Almost that shabby-chic effect without the distressed furniture thing. Interesting... I like the mirror...'

Ron drew his gaze away from the bed momentarily and stared about the room, his lips slightly parted as he took in the details of the Regency four-poster bed, the two identical mahogany chests of drawers on each side of the bed and the closed white slatted blinds. A large, shaggy rug covered the majority of the white-washed floorboards and there was a fancy crystal chandelier, though it was the cream bedside lamps that added a soft glow to the darkened room.

The doors to the large wardrobe were open and there were clothes in it that definitely weren't Harry's.

'It's quite nice,' Ron said.

It was actually very expensively and tastefully done, if anyone were to judge these things.

'Thank you, I'm glad you approve. Are you going to leave any time soon so I can dress?' said Harry.