POINT ME (PG-13) BY IAMSHADOW
Title: Point Me
Author: iamshadow
Ship: Pre Ron/Harry
Word Count: 900
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A bit fluffy. Utter fandom cliche of a story line.
Summary: Fred and George have a new invention, and they know the perfect person to test it on.
A/N: Happy Belated Birthday magicofisis!
Set during the summer at the beginning of GoF, but completely ignoring the existence of Quidditch World Cups and Dark Marks and the like. This is purely a bit of fun, minus major canon story arcs.
You asked for "Harry/Ron, lazy summer afternoon, charm or transfiguration gone wrong." Well, I got the Harry/Ron, and there is magic, but it hasn't gone wrong, unless of course you count anything Fred and George do deliberately to someone else as a kind of unwanted chaos.
Oh, and because I'm some kind of masochist, this fic is composed of nine 100 word drabbles. Don't ask me why.
The twins thought they were on to a pretty good thing when they came up with the concept of Divine Rod Dust. Since it was odourless, tasteless, and dissolved instantly in liquid, it could be used on large amounts of people to maximum effect. The potential for hilarity and embarrassment was enough of an incentive in itself, even without the promise of the Galleons their new invention would bring.
Now, they just needed a test subject. And with Hermione staying at the Burrow for the last few weeks of the holidays, Fred and George thought they knew the ideal person.
***
Ron shifted uncomfortably. He would have thought the wank he had in the shower less than twenty minutes ago would have left him safe for at least an hour, but no. And rather than just being in that annoying, but for the most part ignorable, ‘half-mast’ state, his cock had stiffened fully, to the point that it was distracting.
He toyed with his eggs, and took another slurp of his tea. He hoped that Hermione wouldn’t ask him why he was distracted and why he suddenly was avoiding her gaze. He just couldn’t look her in the eye while... well.
***
On Day One, Fred easily managed to spike Ron’s tea with a small dose of the Dust, while George marked the time on a scrap of parchment with a stub of pencil under the table. Approximately three minutes later, George felt his twin give him a slight nudge. Careful to keep his glance casual, he looked fleetingly across the table. Ron was wriggling about in his seat, now and then. George noted that the tips of Ron’s ears were bright pink, though he and Harry were only talking about Gobstones. He was very pointedly looking anywhere but at Hermione. Excellent.
***
Dinner that night was awkward. His erection was pushing insistently at his trousers after what seemed like only moments. Unfortunately, the meal was bangers and mash, and his plate was piled with thick sausages. Even Ron, who knew nothing of Freud, couldn’t miss the symbolism, and eating wasn’t the distraction it could have been, had the food been a nice, safe stew or something.
When his mum dished a couple of Brussels sprouts onto his plate and they nestled at the end of a sausage like a pair of green bollocks, he shut his eyes and groaned quietly in frustration.
***
“’s working,” George muttered under his breath to Fred. “Brilliant dinner, mum,” he said aloud.
Ron’s cheeks were flaming scarlet, and though he was obviously making an effort to eat, he seemed distracted and hurried away at the end of the meal.
“Reckon it’s time to move on to Phase Two?” Fred asked in a whisper, while helping himself to yet more trifle.
“I think so,” George said. “I’d call that a success.”
“You distract him at some point before bedtime, and I’ll dust inside his pillowcase,” Fred said.
“How long will you need?” George asked.
“Not long,” Fred grinned.
***
The next day at noon, Ron felt the all-too-familiar swelling of his erection beneath the cover of the table and sighed with something like resignation. He’d had dreams all night that he’d really rather not dwell on, and woken up with unpleasantly sticky pyjamas. He just hoped he’d been quiet, and hadn’t woken Harry. It was one thing, in the dormitory, where you could put up a quick Silencing Charm if you wanted a wank, and the curtains could cut out a fair bit of noise anyway. It was another when the beds had less than two feet between them.
***
The second day’s dose was a slightly larger one, this time in Ron’s lunch time pumpkin juice, and the results evident at two minutes and twenty seconds. Ron trailed off in the middle of a sentence and blushed. He managed to recover, but George has a sneaking suspicion that he might be onto them.
“He saw you,” he muttered, when he bent to pick up a dropped fork.
“Bugger,” Fred responded cheerfully.
The smile didn’t even drop from his face when Ron held them at wandpoint a short time later in their own room.
“Un. Do. It,” Ron ground out.
***
“What?” Fred asked innocently, his wide, open expression virtually an admission of guilt.
“You hexed my cock. Fix it,” Ron glared, wand moving from one to the other of them.
“What makes you -” Fred began.
“Because now my bloody cock stands up and points at Harry whenever I’m in the same fucking room as him!” Ron watched the twins exchange a glance. “You’ve had your fun, just please...” His voice broke on the last word. “I just want it to stop.”
“All right,” George said immediately.
“Here,” said Fred, holding out a vial of amber liquid.
Ron swallowed it.
***
When Ron left, George looked across at Fred. His twin looked almost ashamed.
“Didn’t expect that,” Fred murmured.
“No,” George said softly.
“S’pose it makes sense, though. They’re close.”
“Yeah, but that close?” George responded.
Fred shrugged. “Why not?
“Muggles... they’re a bit funny about it, aren’t they?” George said. “Think it’s unnatural, or something.”
Fred snorted.
“I mean, what if Harry likes him back, but thinks it’s wrong?”
“Then we knock some sense into him.”
“Mum would flip.”
“Didn’t say we’d use our fists,” Fred said mischievously. In his hand, there was a small packet of powder.
George grinned.
Author: iamshadow
Ship: Pre Ron/Harry
Word Count: 900
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A bit fluffy. Utter fandom cliche of a story line.
Summary: Fred and George have a new invention, and they know the perfect person to test it on.
A/N: Happy Belated Birthday magicofisis!
Set during the summer at the beginning of GoF, but completely ignoring the existence of Quidditch World Cups and Dark Marks and the like. This is purely a bit of fun, minus major canon story arcs.
You asked for "Harry/Ron, lazy summer afternoon, charm or transfiguration gone wrong." Well, I got the Harry/Ron, and there is magic, but it hasn't gone wrong, unless of course you count anything Fred and George do deliberately to someone else as a kind of unwanted chaos.
Oh, and because I'm some kind of masochist, this fic is composed of nine 100 word drabbles. Don't ask me why.
The twins thought they were on to a pretty good thing when they came up with the concept of Divine Rod Dust. Since it was odourless, tasteless, and dissolved instantly in liquid, it could be used on large amounts of people to maximum effect. The potential for hilarity and embarrassment was enough of an incentive in itself, even without the promise of the Galleons their new invention would bring.
Now, they just needed a test subject. And with Hermione staying at the Burrow for the last few weeks of the holidays, Fred and George thought they knew the ideal person.
***
Ron shifted uncomfortably. He would have thought the wank he had in the shower less than twenty minutes ago would have left him safe for at least an hour, but no. And rather than just being in that annoying, but for the most part ignorable, ‘half-mast’ state, his cock had stiffened fully, to the point that it was distracting.
He toyed with his eggs, and took another slurp of his tea. He hoped that Hermione wouldn’t ask him why he was distracted and why he suddenly was avoiding her gaze. He just couldn’t look her in the eye while... well.
***
On Day One, Fred easily managed to spike Ron’s tea with a small dose of the Dust, while George marked the time on a scrap of parchment with a stub of pencil under the table. Approximately three minutes later, George felt his twin give him a slight nudge. Careful to keep his glance casual, he looked fleetingly across the table. Ron was wriggling about in his seat, now and then. George noted that the tips of Ron’s ears were bright pink, though he and Harry were only talking about Gobstones. He was very pointedly looking anywhere but at Hermione. Excellent.
***
Dinner that night was awkward. His erection was pushing insistently at his trousers after what seemed like only moments. Unfortunately, the meal was bangers and mash, and his plate was piled with thick sausages. Even Ron, who knew nothing of Freud, couldn’t miss the symbolism, and eating wasn’t the distraction it could have been, had the food been a nice, safe stew or something.
When his mum dished a couple of Brussels sprouts onto his plate and they nestled at the end of a sausage like a pair of green bollocks, he shut his eyes and groaned quietly in frustration.
***
“’s working,” George muttered under his breath to Fred. “Brilliant dinner, mum,” he said aloud.
Ron’s cheeks were flaming scarlet, and though he was obviously making an effort to eat, he seemed distracted and hurried away at the end of the meal.
“Reckon it’s time to move on to Phase Two?” Fred asked in a whisper, while helping himself to yet more trifle.
“I think so,” George said. “I’d call that a success.”
“You distract him at some point before bedtime, and I’ll dust inside his pillowcase,” Fred said.
“How long will you need?” George asked.
“Not long,” Fred grinned.
***
The next day at noon, Ron felt the all-too-familiar swelling of his erection beneath the cover of the table and sighed with something like resignation. He’d had dreams all night that he’d really rather not dwell on, and woken up with unpleasantly sticky pyjamas. He just hoped he’d been quiet, and hadn’t woken Harry. It was one thing, in the dormitory, where you could put up a quick Silencing Charm if you wanted a wank, and the curtains could cut out a fair bit of noise anyway. It was another when the beds had less than two feet between them.
***
The second day’s dose was a slightly larger one, this time in Ron’s lunch time pumpkin juice, and the results evident at two minutes and twenty seconds. Ron trailed off in the middle of a sentence and blushed. He managed to recover, but George has a sneaking suspicion that he might be onto them.
“He saw you,” he muttered, when he bent to pick up a dropped fork.
“Bugger,” Fred responded cheerfully.
The smile didn’t even drop from his face when Ron held them at wandpoint a short time later in their own room.
“Un. Do. It,” Ron ground out.
***
“What?” Fred asked innocently, his wide, open expression virtually an admission of guilt.
“You hexed my cock. Fix it,” Ron glared, wand moving from one to the other of them.
“What makes you -” Fred began.
“Because now my bloody cock stands up and points at Harry whenever I’m in the same fucking room as him!” Ron watched the twins exchange a glance. “You’ve had your fun, just please...” His voice broke on the last word. “I just want it to stop.”
“All right,” George said immediately.
“Here,” said Fred, holding out a vial of amber liquid.
Ron swallowed it.
***
When Ron left, George looked across at Fred. His twin looked almost ashamed.
“Didn’t expect that,” Fred murmured.
“No,” George said softly.
“S’pose it makes sense, though. They’re close.”
“Yeah, but that close?” George responded.
Fred shrugged. “Why not?
“Muggles... they’re a bit funny about it, aren’t they?” George said. “Think it’s unnatural, or something.”
Fred snorted.
“I mean, what if Harry likes him back, but thinks it’s wrong?”
“Then we knock some sense into him.”
“Mum would flip.”
“Didn’t say we’d use our fists,” Fred said mischievously. In his hand, there was a small packet of powder.
George grinned.