Breathless and Conscious
Title: Breathless and Conscious
Rating: PG13
Genre: Humor
Length: 2798
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: CPR should never be taught to Hogwarts students. Or, at least, never be taught to them by Umbridge.
Note: For aldebaran1977. You said UST that gets resolved and I tried, but I really didn't succeed. Hopefully you like it anyway. Also, it ended up much longer than a drabble; sorry!
She certainly hadn't wanted the 'privilege.' She certainly had tried to back out of it but for once the Ministry wasn't behind her. They didn't seem to think that it was important enough to make a decree about. They actually, Merlin forbid, thought it a good idea.
God damn Dumbledore and his cockamamie ideas.
So, being the good person she was, Umbridge had sought out the correct resources and taught herself well enough to teach a class. Of course, they would spend most of it reading from a book she'd found from venturing into a muggle bookstore and looking like an idiot. Why didn't they have elves that found the books for you instantly? Then again, Hogwarts didn't have them either. Cheep Dumbledore.
Dumbledore also mentioned that an actual demonstration was needed, to be sure the students understood the skill. Well, she would fulfill her duties. They would know how. She just was planning on taking it a bit too far.
Never again would they make her teach the students CPR.
If Draco had any idea being sent to Defense Against the Dark Arts to collect Parvati Patil for Professor Flitwick would result in him partnering with Harry Potter for a CPR demonstration he would have feigned being lost. He would not have eagerly left Charms. He would have sooner died. One class of CPR was enough. Of course, he'd been partnered with Pansy and she was a good kisser and they'd ended up snogging instead of practicing CPR but Umbridge hadn't seemed to mind. It was almost like she wanted that to happen.
Which Draco understood completely. He didn't like Umbridge and liked to watch her suffer but he wouldn't have wanted to teach CPR either. Who needed to know some muggle shite when they had magic? Magic would always be superior to any tricks muggles figured they had up their sleeves.
But he had liked spending the last fifteen minutes of the class snogging Pansy, even if when she grabbed his chin a little too roughly it reminded him of being beat upon by Potter and George Weasley one week earlier at the Quidditch game. And by the time he'd thought of that there was no way to get rid of it. Potter was in his head and like the stubborn git he was refused to leave.
Luckily there had only been a few minutes left of class because if Draco had had to imagine kissing Potter any longer he would have burst.
The fact still remained, however, that he hadn't any knowledge of what would happen when Professor Flitwick asked him to fetch Patil since he was the top person in that specific class and wouldn't fail for leaving a few minutes. He simply nodded, grinned, and set off at a ridiculously slow pace down the corridor.
Hermione was grinning widely, no doubt having taken the subject back home. She would pass with an O. Like always. Harry just hoped they wouldn't have to perform CPR on anyone because he was skimming over their required reading (of course) and it was most definitely the thing where you kiss someone and it miraculously brings them back to life.
Okay, so he knew there was something else to it because simply kissing can't bring someone to life unless you're Snow White, but he was too angry at being in the same room as Umbridge to care about how to perform CPR. Wizards had some different way to revive someone, right? They had to.
"Cardiopulmonary resuscitation," Ron muttered. "Yeah, I'm going to need it after saying that." His elbow landed in Harry's side, making him grunt. "So, do you think we'll be practicing this?"
"Do we practice anything in this class," Harry scoffed, hoping the one time he didn't want to they wouldn't. It wasn't like Cho was in the class, and he didn't desire to kiss anyone else.
Hermione shushed them and turned back to her book, informing them that it's important information to know for survival. Ron leaned back in his chair and mocked her with a breathy voice until Umbridge assigned him a detention.
"Tough luck, mate." Harry tried not to grin.
"Tough luck, mate," Ron repeated when Umbridge announced that Harry would be partnering with Parvati. It was funny. Harry and Parvati really didn't work too well together after last year's Yule Ball.
Hermione sighed heavily and yanked him to an open table. She climbed onto it and laid down. "Come on, now. And do try not to breathe or push too hard. I'm actually a breathing conscious person."
Ron nodded and stared at Hermione's closed eyes. He didn't get what she meant. One wasn't supposed to be not breathing or unconscious when kissing. In fact, that would probably be a cause of alarm. "Erm," Ron hesitated. Was there a special way to do it? There must be if it was supposed to do...something. He probably should have read more than just the first two words. And listened to what Umbridge said.
A glance at the table beside them showed Lavender with her lips on Seamus'. He didn't know how to kiss! Quickly, before Hermione started to wonder what was wrong with him, he bent over the table and pressed their lips together. When he pulled back, trying to ignore the little zing that zoomed down his spine, Hermione's face was red.
Ron blushed. He didn't think it was that bad.
"Ron!" She slipped off the table, bushy hair falling into her face. "We're not kissing! It's CPR. You give the other person air."
"Oh." He rubbed awkwardly at the back of his flushing neck, wishing he had long hair to hide himself. "Then you go."
She pointed at the desk and he took her previous spot. Then she proceeded to shove the air out of his chest. Ron figured she was pushing much harder than need be. He was a breathing conscious person, after all.
"Parvati!" Umbridge's sickenly sweet voice called out in Harry's prime moment of life. He sighed in relief as the girl backed away and headed up to her desk. Umbridge, the toad, must have seen his sigh because the next thing he knew Malfoy was standing beside the desk, looking scornfully down at him. And when had Malfoy gotten there?
Harry turned his head to look out at the sea of people. He couldn't see where Parvati had gotten off to because Malfoy's hand was right in his face, preventing him from seeing a bloody thing in that direction. "Move your hand," he barked, blowing at it.
Malfoy's fingers twitched but instead of moving away, moved closer. "Why?" he drawled, "Do they bother you?"
A lone fingernail trailed lightly over Harry's cheek to press painfully into his top lip before falling beside his head. Harry couldn't repress a shiver.
"No. You bother me." Just for the sake of watching Malfoy's' fingers twitch every time a puff of air hit them Harry kept talking, angling his mouth just right. "Of course you always bother me with your annoyingness. And what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be with the other Slytherins? Do you know where Parvati got off to? Did you know your hand twitches every time I exhale?"
This time they twitched and moved to close awkwardly around Harry's neck. Malfoy leaned over him until the bit of hair that had fallen out of his slicked back duo was tickling Harry's face. "I'm supposed to be your partner for CPR because Patil got called away to Professor Flitwick. But I suppose to teach you correctly I should make you unconscious. And stop you from breathing." He cast a look over his shoulder. "Payback for attacking me last week. Besides, no one will notice. Umbridge hates you and everyone else is too busy snogging."
Heat crawled over Harry's body, and he didn't get it, but Malfoy was pressing softly on his throat, and he was feeling odd. Kind of like when he was thinking of Cho in the privacy of his bed curtains, but not quite. Couldn't be anyway. This was Malfoy for god's sake.
Realizing he should probably do something before his flush registered with Malfoy as something other than lose of breath (which he really didn't have) Harry grabbed Malfoy's wrists and tugged on them until Malfoy's nose crushed onto Harry's chest. Then he rolled away, causing Malfoy to end up on the desk, his head by Harry's feet.
People were most definitely watching now, which probably kept Malfoy from saying anything, or moving. That's sure why Harry wasn't doing anything. Not to mention he had a little problem that he'd rather not try to understand, let alone have other people notice.
"You're not fighting, are you, Mr Potter?" Umbridge asked, walking down the aisle until she stood next to their desk, her squinted eyes searching for something to give Harry a detention for, no doubt.
Harry shook his head.
"Are you practicing CPR?" she asked, voice dripping honey and a strange glint in her eyes as her gaze shifted between the two of them.
Harry shook his head, raising it defiantly, but Malfoy cut across with a clear, curt voice. "Yes, I was just going to show Potter the correct way to perform CPR, having had the class already."
Umbridge frowned and walked away, her pace uneven. Harry let his head fall back to hit the table. At least he didn't have another detention. His hand wouldn't be able to take anymore of that torture.
Draco debated up and leaving -- he had done his job, anyway -- but Potter was laying there all smug and Umbridge had told him to partner with Potter. Who was he to disrespect a teacher?
Er. Who was he to pass over an opportunity to hurt Potter?
With a satisfied nod he crawled across the wooden table and straddled Potter. He hadn't learned a thing about CPR except that it stood for 'Kissing In Disguise' (if it was KID) so he would settle for scaring the pants off Potter. What could be funnier than that?
"What are you doing?" Potter's voice hitched as he stared wide-eyed at Draco, who could hardly contain his glee.
"Teaching you CPR," Draco replied huskily, close to Potter's lips, and well, that was unexpected. Potter tensed and his eyes squeezed shut, mouth gaping. He rather resembled a fish, except for the fact that he wasn't flopping about.
Oh, never mind. There was the flopping.
"Malfoy, get off," he hissed and shoved at Draco, writhering in an attempt to get free but Draco snatched his wrists and pinned them above his head to the edge of the table. He stared into green eyes framed by a red flush for the longest time.
"Move," Potter caved and Draco had the distinct impression that he didn't mean to move away. Not by the look he was giving him -- a hungry look Draco would have labeled as lust-filled if he knew what that type of look would be.
But this was Potter, the annoying Gryffindor who had attacked him last week after he had won the Quidditch game. The Gryffindor who hated his guts (and the feeling was mutual) and couldn't keep his composure under insults. Potter couldn't really be looking at him like that. Draco's mind had finally lost it. Good thing the rest of him was working because he was burying a hand in Potter hair to yank on it.
But somewhere along the way his hand misinterpreted the instructions from...wherever the heck it was getting its instructions from and ended up simply threading through the mop.
He could feel that hungry look creeping through his veins and onto his face. How embarrassing. How insane. How -- gods he just wanted to press down. Just once. It didn't mean anything. Just one press. It could have been Mrs Norris underneath him and he'd want to press down, really, he was that hard.
"Malfoy," Potter breathed, freight showing through his gaze. "Go away." He was practically pleading; something that definitely did not escape Draco's notice. He dropped, grinding their hips more forcefully than needed.
And then they were kissing, if one could call the battle their mouths were partaking in that. For lack of a better name Draco called it that. He didn't know which one of them had initiated it -- maybe they had at the same time -- but Potter's mouth was wet and warm and his tongue was alive, not at all like Pansy's, which oftentimes just laid there like a dead frog. Not to mention Potter's hands moved everywhere. Their hands kept bumping together in the search.
Slowly, through the haze, voices began to register in Draco's mind. He opened his eyes to stare into his own blurry reflection. Damn specs. Angling his head a little more he could see to the left.
Umbridge was a cross between satisfaction and disgust, most of the class in horrid fascination, and about two students in interest. Draco was mortified. Potter didn't seem to notice the commotion. He was trying to reach far in Draco's ear with his tongue but Draco wasn't having any of it (even though it felt oh so good). No. He had bigger grindylows to fry.
He needed to get the bloody hell out of there. Quickly he wiggled out of Potter's grasp, ignoring the overwhelming part of him that wanted to stay on the desk with Potter. By the speed that he dashed out of the room one would have thought there was an incendio on his arse. He needed to find Pansy, and quick.
For some reason she didn't satisfy.
"Well, you two do have quite a bit of tension," Hermione reasoned as the three of them plopped onto the chairs by the Gryffindor fireplace. Ron rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension there. He refused to think about what happened fifteen minutes previous.
Harry scrunched his face. "So you want me to...you know." He wiggled his fingers. Ron contemplated showing Harry some actual crude gestures but decided against it. Harry would just use them about Malf-- he wasn't thinking about it. "You think?" Harry repeated.
"No!" Ron yelped, unable to keep quiet even though he was adamantly not thinking about it. "Gods no. We may be your friends, mate, but we don't support you in...with...Malfoy." Well, he'd gone and said it. Now he was thinking about it. About how he'd looked over, intent on being jealous that Harry had not been partnered with bossy Hermione, only to find Malfoy's tongue in Harry's mouth. Or vice versa. He hadn't looked long enough to decipher. "Right, Hermione?"
She didn't answer and instead stared off with a dreamy expression on her face.
"Hermione!"
"What?" She grinned and her gaze shifted everywhere. "Er, yeah. Don't do anything with Malfoy in front of me." Then she lapsed back into her dreamy expression. Probably thinking of some fat book filled with moldy pages.
"Or ever," Ron conceded.
Harry nodded once. "Okay." He chewed on his lip -- the lip Malfoy had kissed, urg -- for quite some time and Ron watched him nervously. Usually Harry was easy to read but for once Ron wasn't sure what he was thinking. "So I'll go not do anything with Malfoy right now."
"Sure." Ron settled back in his seat. Harry stood and headed towards the portrait hole. At least it seemed like Harry was going to stay away from -- "Wait! Harry, do nothing!"
"That's what I'm doing. I'm going to go yell at him for snogging me during class," Harry's voice carried back to him.
Ron sighed. Maybe he would go after Harry later. Once he demanded an explanation out of Hermione for her strange behavior.
"Have fun!" Hermione yelled.
"Urg!" Girls.
Later that day Umbridge was very happy to post official papers on the notice boards.
BY ORDER OF
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
Any mouth to mouth contact in school property is henceforth disbanded.
Mouth to mouth contact is hereby defined as the touching of one's mouth to another.
There are no exceptions.
Any student found to partake in mouth to mouth contact will be suspended.
The above is in accordance with
Educational Decree Number Thirty-Three.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
HIGH INQUISITOR
Now, for sure, she would never have to teach CPR again. Never again would she be faced with the disturbing image of two male students kissing. Smugly, Umbridge turned and walked out of the Slytherin common room.
She gasped. Potter and Malfoy were against the wall, tongues tangling and hands groping in a way that most definitely went against Educational Decree Number -- Number -- In a fit, she fainted dead away.
Rating: PG13
Genre: Humor
Length: 2798
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: CPR should never be taught to Hogwarts students. Or, at least, never be taught to them by Umbridge.
Note: For aldebaran1977. You said UST that gets resolved and I tried, but I really didn't succeed. Hopefully you like it anyway. Also, it ended up much longer than a drabble; sorry!
She certainly hadn't wanted the 'privilege.' She certainly had tried to back out of it but for once the Ministry wasn't behind her. They didn't seem to think that it was important enough to make a decree about. They actually, Merlin forbid, thought it a good idea.
God damn Dumbledore and his cockamamie ideas.
So, being the good person she was, Umbridge had sought out the correct resources and taught herself well enough to teach a class. Of course, they would spend most of it reading from a book she'd found from venturing into a muggle bookstore and looking like an idiot. Why didn't they have elves that found the books for you instantly? Then again, Hogwarts didn't have them either. Cheep Dumbledore.
Dumbledore also mentioned that an actual demonstration was needed, to be sure the students understood the skill. Well, she would fulfill her duties. They would know how. She just was planning on taking it a bit too far.
Never again would they make her teach the students CPR.
If Draco had any idea being sent to Defense Against the Dark Arts to collect Parvati Patil for Professor Flitwick would result in him partnering with Harry Potter for a CPR demonstration he would have feigned being lost. He would not have eagerly left Charms. He would have sooner died. One class of CPR was enough. Of course, he'd been partnered with Pansy and she was a good kisser and they'd ended up snogging instead of practicing CPR but Umbridge hadn't seemed to mind. It was almost like she wanted that to happen.
Which Draco understood completely. He didn't like Umbridge and liked to watch her suffer but he wouldn't have wanted to teach CPR either. Who needed to know some muggle shite when they had magic? Magic would always be superior to any tricks muggles figured they had up their sleeves.
But he had liked spending the last fifteen minutes of the class snogging Pansy, even if when she grabbed his chin a little too roughly it reminded him of being beat upon by Potter and George Weasley one week earlier at the Quidditch game. And by the time he'd thought of that there was no way to get rid of it. Potter was in his head and like the stubborn git he was refused to leave.
Luckily there had only been a few minutes left of class because if Draco had had to imagine kissing Potter any longer he would have burst.
The fact still remained, however, that he hadn't any knowledge of what would happen when Professor Flitwick asked him to fetch Patil since he was the top person in that specific class and wouldn't fail for leaving a few minutes. He simply nodded, grinned, and set off at a ridiculously slow pace down the corridor.
Hermione was grinning widely, no doubt having taken the subject back home. She would pass with an O. Like always. Harry just hoped they wouldn't have to perform CPR on anyone because he was skimming over their required reading (of course) and it was most definitely the thing where you kiss someone and it miraculously brings them back to life.
Okay, so he knew there was something else to it because simply kissing can't bring someone to life unless you're Snow White, but he was too angry at being in the same room as Umbridge to care about how to perform CPR. Wizards had some different way to revive someone, right? They had to.
"Cardiopulmonary resuscitation," Ron muttered. "Yeah, I'm going to need it after saying that." His elbow landed in Harry's side, making him grunt. "So, do you think we'll be practicing this?"
"Do we practice anything in this class," Harry scoffed, hoping the one time he didn't want to they wouldn't. It wasn't like Cho was in the class, and he didn't desire to kiss anyone else.
Hermione shushed them and turned back to her book, informing them that it's important information to know for survival. Ron leaned back in his chair and mocked her with a breathy voice until Umbridge assigned him a detention.
"Tough luck, mate." Harry tried not to grin.
"Tough luck, mate," Ron repeated when Umbridge announced that Harry would be partnering with Parvati. It was funny. Harry and Parvati really didn't work too well together after last year's Yule Ball.
Hermione sighed heavily and yanked him to an open table. She climbed onto it and laid down. "Come on, now. And do try not to breathe or push too hard. I'm actually a breathing conscious person."
Ron nodded and stared at Hermione's closed eyes. He didn't get what she meant. One wasn't supposed to be not breathing or unconscious when kissing. In fact, that would probably be a cause of alarm. "Erm," Ron hesitated. Was there a special way to do it? There must be if it was supposed to do...something. He probably should have read more than just the first two words. And listened to what Umbridge said.
A glance at the table beside them showed Lavender with her lips on Seamus'. He didn't know how to kiss! Quickly, before Hermione started to wonder what was wrong with him, he bent over the table and pressed their lips together. When he pulled back, trying to ignore the little zing that zoomed down his spine, Hermione's face was red.
Ron blushed. He didn't think it was that bad.
"Ron!" She slipped off the table, bushy hair falling into her face. "We're not kissing! It's CPR. You give the other person air."
"Oh." He rubbed awkwardly at the back of his flushing neck, wishing he had long hair to hide himself. "Then you go."
She pointed at the desk and he took her previous spot. Then she proceeded to shove the air out of his chest. Ron figured she was pushing much harder than need be. He was a breathing conscious person, after all.
"Parvati!" Umbridge's sickenly sweet voice called out in Harry's prime moment of life. He sighed in relief as the girl backed away and headed up to her desk. Umbridge, the toad, must have seen his sigh because the next thing he knew Malfoy was standing beside the desk, looking scornfully down at him. And when had Malfoy gotten there?
Harry turned his head to look out at the sea of people. He couldn't see where Parvati had gotten off to because Malfoy's hand was right in his face, preventing him from seeing a bloody thing in that direction. "Move your hand," he barked, blowing at it.
Malfoy's fingers twitched but instead of moving away, moved closer. "Why?" he drawled, "Do they bother you?"
A lone fingernail trailed lightly over Harry's cheek to press painfully into his top lip before falling beside his head. Harry couldn't repress a shiver.
"No. You bother me." Just for the sake of watching Malfoy's' fingers twitch every time a puff of air hit them Harry kept talking, angling his mouth just right. "Of course you always bother me with your annoyingness. And what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be with the other Slytherins? Do you know where Parvati got off to? Did you know your hand twitches every time I exhale?"
This time they twitched and moved to close awkwardly around Harry's neck. Malfoy leaned over him until the bit of hair that had fallen out of his slicked back duo was tickling Harry's face. "I'm supposed to be your partner for CPR because Patil got called away to Professor Flitwick. But I suppose to teach you correctly I should make you unconscious. And stop you from breathing." He cast a look over his shoulder. "Payback for attacking me last week. Besides, no one will notice. Umbridge hates you and everyone else is too busy snogging."
Heat crawled over Harry's body, and he didn't get it, but Malfoy was pressing softly on his throat, and he was feeling odd. Kind of like when he was thinking of Cho in the privacy of his bed curtains, but not quite. Couldn't be anyway. This was Malfoy for god's sake.
Realizing he should probably do something before his flush registered with Malfoy as something other than lose of breath (which he really didn't have) Harry grabbed Malfoy's wrists and tugged on them until Malfoy's nose crushed onto Harry's chest. Then he rolled away, causing Malfoy to end up on the desk, his head by Harry's feet.
People were most definitely watching now, which probably kept Malfoy from saying anything, or moving. That's sure why Harry wasn't doing anything. Not to mention he had a little problem that he'd rather not try to understand, let alone have other people notice.
"You're not fighting, are you, Mr Potter?" Umbridge asked, walking down the aisle until she stood next to their desk, her squinted eyes searching for something to give Harry a detention for, no doubt.
Harry shook his head.
"Are you practicing CPR?" she asked, voice dripping honey and a strange glint in her eyes as her gaze shifted between the two of them.
Harry shook his head, raising it defiantly, but Malfoy cut across with a clear, curt voice. "Yes, I was just going to show Potter the correct way to perform CPR, having had the class already."
Umbridge frowned and walked away, her pace uneven. Harry let his head fall back to hit the table. At least he didn't have another detention. His hand wouldn't be able to take anymore of that torture.
Draco debated up and leaving -- he had done his job, anyway -- but Potter was laying there all smug and Umbridge had told him to partner with Potter. Who was he to disrespect a teacher?
Er. Who was he to pass over an opportunity to hurt Potter?
With a satisfied nod he crawled across the wooden table and straddled Potter. He hadn't learned a thing about CPR except that it stood for 'Kissing In Disguise' (if it was KID) so he would settle for scaring the pants off Potter. What could be funnier than that?
"What are you doing?" Potter's voice hitched as he stared wide-eyed at Draco, who could hardly contain his glee.
"Teaching you CPR," Draco replied huskily, close to Potter's lips, and well, that was unexpected. Potter tensed and his eyes squeezed shut, mouth gaping. He rather resembled a fish, except for the fact that he wasn't flopping about.
Oh, never mind. There was the flopping.
"Malfoy, get off," he hissed and shoved at Draco, writhering in an attempt to get free but Draco snatched his wrists and pinned them above his head to the edge of the table. He stared into green eyes framed by a red flush for the longest time.
"Move," Potter caved and Draco had the distinct impression that he didn't mean to move away. Not by the look he was giving him -- a hungry look Draco would have labeled as lust-filled if he knew what that type of look would be.
But this was Potter, the annoying Gryffindor who had attacked him last week after he had won the Quidditch game. The Gryffindor who hated his guts (and the feeling was mutual) and couldn't keep his composure under insults. Potter couldn't really be looking at him like that. Draco's mind had finally lost it. Good thing the rest of him was working because he was burying a hand in Potter hair to yank on it.
But somewhere along the way his hand misinterpreted the instructions from...wherever the heck it was getting its instructions from and ended up simply threading through the mop.
He could feel that hungry look creeping through his veins and onto his face. How embarrassing. How insane. How -- gods he just wanted to press down. Just once. It didn't mean anything. Just one press. It could have been Mrs Norris underneath him and he'd want to press down, really, he was that hard.
"Malfoy," Potter breathed, freight showing through his gaze. "Go away." He was practically pleading; something that definitely did not escape Draco's notice. He dropped, grinding their hips more forcefully than needed.
And then they were kissing, if one could call the battle their mouths were partaking in that. For lack of a better name Draco called it that. He didn't know which one of them had initiated it -- maybe they had at the same time -- but Potter's mouth was wet and warm and his tongue was alive, not at all like Pansy's, which oftentimes just laid there like a dead frog. Not to mention Potter's hands moved everywhere. Their hands kept bumping together in the search.
Slowly, through the haze, voices began to register in Draco's mind. He opened his eyes to stare into his own blurry reflection. Damn specs. Angling his head a little more he could see to the left.
Umbridge was a cross between satisfaction and disgust, most of the class in horrid fascination, and about two students in interest. Draco was mortified. Potter didn't seem to notice the commotion. He was trying to reach far in Draco's ear with his tongue but Draco wasn't having any of it (even though it felt oh so good). No. He had bigger grindylows to fry.
He needed to get the bloody hell out of there. Quickly he wiggled out of Potter's grasp, ignoring the overwhelming part of him that wanted to stay on the desk with Potter. By the speed that he dashed out of the room one would have thought there was an incendio on his arse. He needed to find Pansy, and quick.
For some reason she didn't satisfy.
"Well, you two do have quite a bit of tension," Hermione reasoned as the three of them plopped onto the chairs by the Gryffindor fireplace. Ron rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension there. He refused to think about what happened fifteen minutes previous.
Harry scrunched his face. "So you want me to...you know." He wiggled his fingers. Ron contemplated showing Harry some actual crude gestures but decided against it. Harry would just use them about Malf-- he wasn't thinking about it. "You think?" Harry repeated.
"No!" Ron yelped, unable to keep quiet even though he was adamantly not thinking about it. "Gods no. We may be your friends, mate, but we don't support you in...with...Malfoy." Well, he'd gone and said it. Now he was thinking about it. About how he'd looked over, intent on being jealous that Harry had not been partnered with bossy Hermione, only to find Malfoy's tongue in Harry's mouth. Or vice versa. He hadn't looked long enough to decipher. "Right, Hermione?"
She didn't answer and instead stared off with a dreamy expression on her face.
"Hermione!"
"What?" She grinned and her gaze shifted everywhere. "Er, yeah. Don't do anything with Malfoy in front of me." Then she lapsed back into her dreamy expression. Probably thinking of some fat book filled with moldy pages.
"Or ever," Ron conceded.
Harry nodded once. "Okay." He chewed on his lip -- the lip Malfoy had kissed, urg -- for quite some time and Ron watched him nervously. Usually Harry was easy to read but for once Ron wasn't sure what he was thinking. "So I'll go not do anything with Malfoy right now."
"Sure." Ron settled back in his seat. Harry stood and headed towards the portrait hole. At least it seemed like Harry was going to stay away from -- "Wait! Harry, do nothing!"
"That's what I'm doing. I'm going to go yell at him for snogging me during class," Harry's voice carried back to him.
Ron sighed. Maybe he would go after Harry later. Once he demanded an explanation out of Hermione for her strange behavior.
"Have fun!" Hermione yelled.
"Urg!" Girls.
Later that day Umbridge was very happy to post official papers on the notice boards.
BY ORDER OF
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
Any mouth to mouth contact in school property is henceforth disbanded.
Mouth to mouth contact is hereby defined as the touching of one's mouth to another.
There are no exceptions.
Any student found to partake in mouth to mouth contact will be suspended.
The above is in accordance with
Educational Decree Number Thirty-Three.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
HIGH INQUISITOR
Now, for sure, she would never have to teach CPR again. Never again would she be faced with the disturbing image of two male students kissing. Smugly, Umbridge turned and walked out of the Slytherin common room.
She gasped. Potter and Malfoy were against the wall, tongues tangling and hands groping in a way that most definitely went against Educational Decree Number -- Number -- In a fit, she fainted dead away.