
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10018244.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Ron_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Out_of_Character, Sexual_Content, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-11-27 Words: 1500
****** Kings and Queens ******
by bottoms up [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     He was sick and tired of that bloody song. He had let one goal in
     during the last match against Slytherin in fifth year - because he
     was distracted by Malfoy mooning him, of course the blood prat had to
     go traditional - and since then every time he had let another goal
     in, no matter what team they were playing, the bloody Slytherins
     began to sing.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
He was sick and tired of that bloody song. He had let one goal in during the
last match against Slytherin in fifth year - because he was distracted by
Malfoy mooning him, of course the blood prat had to go traditional - and since
then every time he had let another goal in, no matter what team they were
playing, the bloody Slytherins began to sing. Of course to top it off he had
let one goal in my accident when Darcy had come up behind him pretending to
hold a Quaffle, but in reality Butera had the Quaffle. And so when he was
distracted watching Darcy, Butera had let a goal in and Slytherin had won the
match, and the Quidditch Cup – even with Harry catching the snitch.
And it had gotten steadily worse ever since.
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King.
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King.
Every time he walked into a class or a Great Hall someone would start humming
the tune, usually that damn pointy ferret, and then the rest of the students
would laugh. Even some of the Ravenclaws and braver Hufflepuffs would start.
The Gryffindors had tried once, but he had hexed them and they had never
started again. He thought Harry had something to do with that one. Being the
best friend of the Savior had a few perks that he didn’t mind taking advantage
of from time to time.
He stopped outside of the Great Hall and stared at the doors with apprehension.
He was a little scared of going in there, and angry that he had to be scared of
going into the bloody Great Hall so he could eat bloody food.
“Let’s eat in the kitchens,” he said nonchalantly as he turned to look at Harry
and Hermione.
“Come on Ronnie, It’s not that bad,” Harry said with a cajoling smile.
Ron scowled. “You just want to see Luna,” he accused.
“How’d you know?”
“You only call me Ronnie when you want something,” he said crossing his arms
over his chest defiantly.
Harry had the decency to look chagrined. “Sorry mate, just think though, you
can be boyfriend hunting,” he said with a wink and nudged Ron in the side.
“No,” Ron said defiant. “I’m going to the kitchens.”
Ron was about to turn around to head to the kitchens when he heard an annoying
voice he knew so well begin to sing. He closed his eyes with a sigh, why did an
annoying personality be attached to something so pretty. It was cruel and
unusual punishment.
“Weasley is out king,” Malfoy began with a smirk as he leant against the wall.
Ron watched as the blonde crossed his arms over his chest looking every inch of
aristocratic perfection.
And Ron hated him for it.
“Malfoy shut the fuck up,” Ron said through ground teeth.
Malfoy sneered. “Awww, doesn’t Ronnie boy want to be a Weasel king? You can
rule the other rodents, such as the beaver next to you.”
Ron surprised himself. Instead of attacking Malfoy like he usually did he just
glared at the boy and spoke calmly, as if he was talking about the weather.
“Malfoy, I’ll be king, if you’ll be my ferret queen,” he said with a smirk. “I
mean it makes sense doesn’t it? A ferret is a rodent, and you’re more
effeminate than most girls I know, it makes sense you’d be queen,” he finished
before turning and walking into the hall ignoring the sounds of outrage and the
gasps of laughter as Hermione and Harry followed him in trying to walk while
laughing.
He figured he had done something right when he walked into his next class after
lunch and Malfoy had stayed quiet and ignored him pointedly.
The next morning however, did not go as well. He walked into the Great Hall and
sat down before he heard the Slytherins begin to sing the song he hated so
much. He slammed down his knife and fork and was about to stand up, when
suddenly he felt Hermione’s hand on his arm holding him down.
He glared at her questioningly and she grinned before nodding to Harry. Harry
smiled and raised his hand and nodded his head.
As one, the Gryffindor table began to sing.
“Ferret is our Queen
All dressed up in green
Let's change his routine
Let’s dress him as Kathleen
Oh what does it mean?
Isn't that obscene?
That’s a sight unseen
Weasley found his Queen
Eyes of aquamarine
Only seventeen
He needs his caffeine
And likes to preen
Oh what does it mean?
Isn't that obscene?
That’s a sight unseen
Weasley found his Queen.”
Ron looked shocked for a moment before breaking out in laughter collapsing
against Hermione as he struggled to get some air into his starving lungs.
People around them were laughing as well.
He managed to look at Malfoy to see him scowling his arms crossed over his
chest. Even some of the Slytherins were smiling at the song.
“Who?” Ron managed to gasp out.
“Hermione thought of the idea, and I wrote the song,” Harry said proudly.
“He got bitten by the Museils Roostils, they inspire people by burrowing into
their ears and affecting their brain waves, its incurable,” Luna said solemnly.
Ron just laughed even harder.
Later that night Ron was finishing up his rounds when he ran into Malfoy who
was leaning against the wall with a scowl. Shoving his hands into his pockets
he looked at Malfoy and grinned slowly as the memories of the song came to him.
“Weasel.”
“Ferret.”
The two of them were silent before Ron took a step bringing him until he was
almost flush with Malfoy and smiled at him. “Like the song? Harry thought of
it.”
“Never thought Potter would have an inspirational bone in his body,” Draco said
sneering.
“He got bit by a Museils Roostil,” Ron said seriously. “Well, according to Luna
at least.”
Malfoy looked unimpressed before his face with blank and the blonde took a step
forward until they were pressed against each other. Ron could feel something
hard poke into his leg, and he felt himself respond a little.
“So, Weasley, do you really want me as your queen?” Malfoy said looking up from
blonde lashes coyly. Ron watched silent as the blonde raised a hand and trailed
a finger over Ron’s chest.
Swallowing Ron leaned down slightly. “Maybe, did you need a king?” he asked
before kissing Malfoy softly.
Malfoy latched onto him with a sudden fevered desperation that Ron was startled
for a moment before wrapping an arm about the blonde and holding him close.
Draco’s – and when did he become Draco – arms wrapping around his neck. Ron
opened his eyes for a minute to see Draco standing on tip toes with shaking
legs. With a slight growl he grabbed Draco’s arse and hauled him up pressing
against the wall feeling slim legs wrap around his body.
Draco gasped and broke the kiss eyes wide as they pressed against each other.
Ron latched onto his neck and Draco arched up eyes rolling into the back of
their head as they began to rub together, faster, stronger, harder, more, until
finally they came and sunk into that perfect oblivion.
They surfaced gasping staring at each other, mind processing trying to
understand why this had happened, how this had happened, and when they wanted
this to happen again.
“Weasley,” Draco asked a question evident in his voice.
“Ron,” he replied.
“Ron,” Draco breathed out with a slight smile but worry evident in his eyes.
“Don’t think, do,” Ron replied kissing Draco sweetly, arms braced, holding the
thinner boy up with ease.
“Do,” Draco repeated with a smile.
--
Ron was contemplative the next morning, staring at his bowl of Wheet Bix as if
it held the answer to the meaning of life. He heard a commotion and looked up,
he saw Draco sitting there a large remnant of their late night escapades on his
neck, glaring red at everyone who saw it.
He could hear Pansy seething. “Where’d you get the mark from?” she asked
through gritted teeth.
Draco glanced up at her and then over at Ron, their eyes meeting for a
nanosecond as time seemed to slow down and Ron imperceptibly nodded his head
beyond caring of the school’s grapevine and the manipulative press. Draco
blinked and the world began to move again before anyone had the chance to
notice the exchange between the two boys in the silence of the hall.
“I found a king,” he said simply with a smile.
And as one everyone turned to look at Ron who smiled at Draco, who smiled at
him in return.
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