Hour Follows Hour

All of the characters and settings, etc., everything but the chain of events itself, are shamelessly lifted from the genius J.K. Rowling, and I am not making one red cent by writing about it. I\'m doing it for pure fun.

This is SLASH fanfic. That means male-male sexual situations. Please do not read this if this is offensive material to you. If you are going to read it, please take note (one more time): SLASH. Men. Having sex with men. Homosexual situations.

Spoilers: Probably all of the books; I just know what I know and I write. But I\'ve read them all, so chances are there will be a few references from all five of them somewhere.

Pairing: Draco/Ron

Rating: Overall: NC-17; This Chapter: R

~*~

Chapter One

Draco Malfoy glanced at Harry, Ron, and Hermione appraisingly for a moment as they walked toward him unknowingly. He thoroughly enjoyed sizing them up when they were together. What a trio they make, he thought to himself, as his signature smirk got slightly more defined. First you\'ve got Potter - what a git he is. Always so wholesome and pure. It makes me want to puke my guts up just looking at him. Why on Earth did anyone allow someone like him to ever become famous? What’s worse is his sickening display of innocence, his woe-is-me attitude. He was handed fame on a platter, and he put it up in the cupboards for safekeeping. He’s so weak he doesn’t even know how to use it to his advantage. He laughed a little at this thought; if not for a stupid scar on his otherwise flawless forehead, he really would be a complete nobody, just as he wanted and exactly as he deserved. He was an idiot, nothing but a weak insect. It was no wonder to Malfoy, really, that he hung out with that Mudblood, ioneione Granger.

And exactly *who* is she trying to fool? She can\'t study her way into becoming a Pureblood. No matter how many books she reads, she\'ll still be an anomaly. Not even fit to be a part of the wizarding world. Malfoy shuddered. His hatred for her kind had always made him feel ill. No sooner had he finished this thought when another thought crossed his mind. Still, I suppose it\'s better to have been born of Muggles than to actually want to be one. At least she had no choice. But that Weasley - he and his whole family are pissing on the fire that is magic, with their obsession with Muggles. I wish I had five minutes alone with him; I would probably beat him to a bloody pulp, and hope to God that he would be taken to a Muggle hospital. We\'d see how much he loves them then, when a whole slew of doctors and nurses would be powerless to do what simple-minded Madam Poy coy could do in a matter of minutes.

Malfoy had to stop thinking about Ron before he lost control of his temper. After all, Malfoys never lose control of anything, especially not themselves. He wasn\'t sure what it was about Ron, exactly, but something definitely made the Slytherin feel more animosity towards him than the other two. Malfoy couldn\'t quite put his finger on it, and this bothered him, and that only lead to more bitter rage. So he just shrugged and suppressed his emotions as best he could, and decided that the optimal way to deal with this situation was his usual method.

\"If it isn\'t Potter, The Boy Wonder, everyone\'s favorite equal-opportunity hero?\" Harry stopped walking immediately as he heard the familiar smug voice behind him. Ron and Hermione turned ar at at once, but Harry didn\'t want to give him the satisfaction. Harry had more control than his two best friends, and it made Ron instantly regret his hasty temper.

\"And as per usual, he\'s keeping excellent company. A Mudblood and a Muggle-lover. A poor Muggle-lover at that.\"

At this, Harry turned. Ron knew why, and it made him feel a little angry, to be honest. Harry could put up with a lot of mockery and malice from Malfoy when it came to his own feelings, but he would not tolerate the insulting of his friends. Ron, however, felt as though he and Hermione could take care of themselves just fine without Harry’s help. It got a little irritating sometimes.

\"I see you\'re traveling with your constant personal fan club. You\'d have to be as thick as them to be able to tolerate your company, Malfoy.\" At this, Crabbe and Goyle stared at Harry, the usual stupid looks pasted on their features. Malfoy had to laugh at that. Crabbe and Goyle really were quite thick. They actually held the belief that Malfoy was great company. He “let” them listen to him rant about his problems for hours, and they actually felt lucky when he sent them on errands for him sometimes.

Malfoy sneered at him, his ice-grey eyes and silvery blonde hair only adding to the stark cold of his disposition. \"At least I don\'t keep up with the misfits of the wizarding world. What\'s that book you\'re reading now, Hermione? \'How To Magically and Miraculously Turn Yourself Into a Pureblood?\' I heard it got really bad reviews.\"

\"Obviously, some of us need to stop relying on Daddy\'s help in life and learn to do things for themselves, such as read,\" Hermione quipped, tucking her copy of A Brief History of Centaurs further under her arm. She then glared at him hotly as if to say more, but the tone in her voice suggested she was finished.

Malfoy only laughed. His laughter made Harry, Ron, and Hermione feel the same way they felt after having a horrible nightmare. \"Oh, I know how to read, thank you. Perhaps you should turn your efforts toward Weasel here. He probably can\'t do it, since his family can\'t really afford books. They can\'t even afford decent clothes, now, can they? How many of your brothers wore that shirt before you got the honor, Weasley? Perhaps even your father?\" Ron, not appreciating the attack on his family\'s income at all, stepped forward, the tips of his ears growing redder by the second.

\"Sod off, you,\" he said lamely. Ron hated vocalizing his sheer hatred for Malfoy; he would much rather just punch his lights out any day. Unfortunately, Harry and Hermione explained to him (on several grueling occasions) that trouble is what Malfoy wanted, Malfoy wanted him to lose control, blah, blah, blah. So he just had to use verbal attacks instead.

\"Or what? You\'ll tell on me or something? How immature. I think it\'s amazing what a few Galleons can do for someone\'s maturity, which must put Potter ages ahead of you, I must say.\" Malfoy chuckled, satisfied that he\'d hit the nerve he was looking for. \"If Potter\'s really your best friend, why don\'t you get him to buy you some clothing that fits? Or are you afraid he\'s going to find out what a small little willy you\'ve got when he takes you out shopping for underpants?\"

Ron had decidedly had enough. He lunged at Malfoy, intent on ripping his throat out. Fortunately, Harry and Hermione, who for some strange reason had an easier time of keeping their composure, held him back just before he was about to strike. Unfortunately, Malfoy started guffawing loudly at Ron\'s sudden outburst, and began clutching his stomach and pointing at Ron in what could only be construed as the most blatant form of mockery. This gave Ron the extra adrenaline he needed to break free of Harry and Hermione\'s grasp and knock Malfoy on the stone floor of the corridor, landing on top of him and knocking the wind out of him. \"I\'ll fucking kill you, Malfoy,\" he snarled. Ron lifted his fist, but was too taken aback by what he saw to plant it where he wanted.

Malfoy wasn\'t afraid of him at all, but this wasn\'t the surprising part. Malfoy looked ... amused. Truly amused by the fact that Ron was about to beat into his pretty little sneering face.

Before Ron had time to snap out of his little revelation and really give Malfoy what he deserved, he heard a noise that could only mean deep trouble, if not certain doom itself.

\"Ahem.\"

The sound of Professor Snape clearing his throat was enough to sober Ron immediately. He jumped off of his would-be human punching bag and started attempting to explain.

\"Professor Snape, I - well, he said - I thought I - I -\" Say something! Ron\'s mind screamed, but his mouth could only stammer.

\"Weasley, Malfoy, in my office. Now. Granger, Potter; Crabbe, Goyle. I suspect you\'ll be late for dinner if you don\'t hurry.\"

~*~

It was easy, really; all Draco Malfoy had to do was look at Snape and deny everything, and say he was truly confused as to why he was in trouble. After all, it was all Weasley\'s fault, he said. He was just the poor victim, an innocent bystander in Weasley\'s torrent of jealous rage.

Snape owled Malfoy\'s parents to notify them of the discord. Malfoy smirked graciously. Obviously Lucius was not going to discipline his son for the sake of a scuffle with a Weasley. He had more important matters to attend to. Maybe Malfoy would actually make his father proud.

Ron, on the other hand, got a week of detention with Snape himself.

\"I should have known that it was going to happen that way. The stupid slimy git. Of course the Head of his House had to catch us, of course it had to be bloody Snape and not Dumbledore or McGonagall, or even Filch...\" Ron reflected on this last option with a wry satisfaction. Had it been Filch, Ron would have still gotten a week of detention, but you\'d better bet your arse that Malfoy would have gotten a week right there with him.

But isn\'t it a bad thing to have to spend a week doing menial chores with Malfoy? Ron pondered.

Of course it was. Ron could think of nothing worse. Nothing on this earth.

He was still wondering why exactly he felt any satisfaction at the idea of being cooped up with Malfoy when he plopped down at the table in the Great Hall.

\"I just don\'t understand why you let him get you so riled, Ron,\" Hermione sighed, half sympathetically, half smugly. It really got under Ron\'s skin when Hermione was right about something, which was most of the time. \"I mean,\" Hermione managed between bites of mince pie and hurried swigs of pumpkin juice, \"if you just left well enough alone, like Harry and me - \" Ron rolled his eyes - \"you wouldn\'t always get in so deep with Snape and the like.\" Ron didn\'t want to talk about this anymore. He just wanted to eat as much as he could in as little time as possible, since a little time was all he had left for supper, anyway.

Ron began stuffing food in his mouth, laughing as he caught Harry watching him. Ron knew it always made Harry feel better to watch him eat. It meant he was feeling better after an ordeal. Ron decided that someone should have asked Harry what had happened; he would be only too happy to divulge all he knew. If he ever got Malfoy alone, though, he would probably just ignore him like always, thought Ron glumly.

Harry sighed as he looked over at the Slytherin table. Ron was sure he was hoping to get riled up enough to actually say something to Malfoy about the way he treated Ron all the time. Ron\'s wounds never had time to heal because of that damn Malfoy, and there was just not reason for it. What was the point of Malfoy\'s constant attacks? There wasn\'t one. The bugger was just evil.

Evil and missing from the table.

\"Hey, Ron, didn\'t Malfoy come down to dinner after you two - er, I mean after - \"

\"Who cares\" was Ron\'s only reply; at least that\'s what Harry thought he said, since his mouth was full of Chocolate Frog, and it sounded more like \"Fookehz\". Harry just shrugged at Hermione and allowed Ron the joy of a few moments of silent bliss as he ate his favorite treat.

Hermione looked around quickly, and noticed the Hall had thinned out a lot since Ron\'s arrival. \"Well, we\'d better be getting on then, we have loads to do, homework and such...\"

\"I s\'pose I\'ll have plenty of time for homework during detention,\" Ron replied glumly. \"Unless Snape\'s got something even nastier in store for me. I just hope it doesn\'t involve s-spiders.\" Ron took one last gulp at the thought, and then decided he was no longer hungry. \"Hermione, I think 're 're right. We really should be going now.\"

~*~

\"Who does that Weasley think he is? I could have gotten in serious trouble!\" Draco was mad. In fact, he was downright pissed off. How dare that simple Muggle-loving git even play at punching him? \"I\'m lucky it was Snape who caught me. Honestly, though, anyone but Dumbledore himself could have caught me, and I would\'ve gotten off as easy. My father has a lot of influence.\" Draco continued pacing the Slytherin common room floor, spitting venom at no one in particular. \"It\'s typical that Crabbe and Goyle would still be tucking in. With as much as they eat, I\'m surprised that the house-elves haven\'t given themselves heart attacks running around just to feed the two of them!\" This thought made him cheer up a little. At least he had Crabbe and Goyle to push around. And it seemed as though he had complete control over Weasley...

He always seemed to know precisely what to say to set Weasley off. He was so simple, so predictable... the same ideals as always, family and dignity - which could easily be stripped away by a few choice words from Draco about their financial situation. It was pathetic, really.

Fuck Weasley. Fuck all the bloody Weasleys. Their stupid loving close family.

Family.

If Draco had a family worth noting, much less loving, he supposed he would feel the same way. As he viewed it, however, he had no time for such affectionate feelings. He had much work to do if he ever expected to become a Death Eater, like his father wanted. After all, Draco Malfoy was always ready and eager to do his father\'s bidding.

Ready and eager... something sounded wrong about that, but Malfoy wasn\'t sure what. That thought caused an emotion within him, and a strong one at that. He didn\'t know what emotion it was precisely - he never was good at pinpointing emotion, as he had to practice so hard to conceal it. It had become like a second nature to him. Like breathing.

Draco didn\'t even necessarily care what emotion this thought aroused. The fact that it was generating emotion at all was enough for him to swear off thinking on it any more. He would think about how to torment Weasley instead. Ah, yes, Malfoy thought with a smirk and a laugh, the ways in which I can make your life bloody fucking hell, Weasley. So numerous. He instantly felt better. Colder. Stoic. He ran his hand over his hair to slick it and left the Slytherin common room.

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A/N: There is more coming, I swear. First of all, thanks goes out to my beta, Rei, for helping me out. Thanks to my peeps at the S.S. Prince and Pauper, especially Dee and Emeliegh for all the support. And thanks to my sister for not running screaming from the room when I told her I was doing this.

Please read and review. Feedback is my friend.