Title: Harry Potter and the ‘Goblet of Fire’ Premiere
Author: Magic of Isis
Summary: A famous Muggle author sends Harry VIP passes to the premiere of the movie that is based on her best-selling novel about Harry’s life. Harry brings Ron with him.
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: R
Notes: Written as a birthday gift for my sooper sekkrit twin, Shocolate. Per her request, I wrote complete and utter crack!fic. There might be an inside joke or two. Apologies to the rest of you. Betaed by the super wonderful Kate!
~*~*~
The two striking young men should have attracted plenty of attention as they strode through the rainy London streets in their strange hats and cloaks, but no one seemed to think them odd. Indeed, there were others out and about that day wearing much stranger garb.
“Are you sure we ought to be traipsing through Muggle London in our cloaks?” asked the taller one to his smaller, raven-haired friend. “The Ministry of Magic would have my job if they thought I was attracting too much attention.”
“Relax, Ron. When Jo sent me the passes, she suggested we’d be noticed less if we dress like wizards, considering we look so much like…us. Everyone will think we’re dressed up like characters from her book.”
Ron sighed deeply. “I still can’t believe you told your story to a Muggle. If you’d been anyone else but Harry Potter, the Wizengamot would have thrown your arse into Azkaban.”
Harry rolled his eyes. It was not the first time they’d had this conversation. “As I’ve said about a million times, I didn’t know she wasn’t a witch when I gave her the interview. She was very convincing, you know, and so much more pleasant than Rita Skeeter.”
“Well, now she’s gone and made you famous in the Muggle world, too.”
They turned the corner and found themselves in Piccadilly Circus, which was fairly busy for a Sunday. Ron stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up and caught sight of the giant billboard advertising ‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’ to everyone within ten miles.
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “Look at that.”
The picture on the electronic billboard featured an attractive boy in profile wearing a jacket with the name “Potter” in red letters over the number “4”, and the words, “Difficult times lie ahead Harry.”
“Isn’t there supposed to be a comma after ‘ahead’?” mused Harry.
“Forget about that – how is it the Muggles don’t know about us yet if they’re advertising this film on a hundred-foot sign?”
Harry shrugged. “They do know,” he said. “Only they think it’s a made-up story. Think about it, Ron. You’d think it was made up if we hadn’t lived through it, wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose. Still, it’s no wonder the Ministry is so upset with you.”
“Come on, it’s not much farther. Then we can get something to eat – I’m famished.”
A crowd had already started to gather when they arrived at Leicester Square, but they managed to find a restaurant with an interesting menu that wasn’t too packed. They noticed they’d started to attract the attention of several diners, not because of their clothes, but because of their faces.
After they sat down at their table, the waitress arrived, saying, “Blimey, if it isn’t Harry Potter and Ron Weasley themselves! Who’d ha’ thought I’d be serving the likes of you two today.”
Ron was taken aback – how in the world did she know him? Beside him, Harry was laughing and nodding. “It’s a good likeness, yeah?”
When she left with their orders, Harry whispered, “Ron, you have to pretend like you’re a Muggle dressing up as Ron Weasley. These people don’t know you, but they see you with me and figure we must be…er…us.”
“It’s creepy, though,” muttered Ron. He now knew never to come to Muggle London with Harry again, at least not when they were dressed as wizards.
~*~*~
They emerged an hour later, well-fed and anxious to see the pomp and ceremony that Jo had told Harry about. Their VIP passes awarded them entrance into the cinema, but they hadn’t realized they’d need to walk down the red carpet in front of thousands of Muggles to get there. As they approached the security point where they had to show their badges, they earned several cheers from appreciative Harry Potter fans.
“It’s nice to know they recognize the real thing when they see it,” Harry whispered to Ron. Ron didn’t reply, as he was nearly immobilized by all the unexpected attention.
They were still early for the showing, so Harry and Ron decided to wait outside for a bit, in spite of the incessant rain. Harry was getting quite wet, but it seemed as if the rain evaporated right off Ron’s skin upon contact. None of the Muggles were deterred by the rain, so Ron didn’t feel that he ought to be.
The crowd multiplied exponentially with each passing minute. Just as Ron was beginning to get bored with Muggle-watching, a huge stretch limo pulled up and an older couple and a young woman emerged, followed by one of the most beautiful young men that Ron had ever seen. He wore a big smile and waved enthusiastically to the screaming fans.
“Who’s that?” Ron said directly into Harry’s ear.
“He’s the actor who plays Cedric Diggory. Robert Pattinson is his name.”
Ron shook his head. “Diggory was never as hot as this bloke. He’s amazing.”
“Calm down, Ron. I don't think he’s gay,” laughed Harry.
After the arrival of Robert Pattinson, the limos showed up at regular intervals. Ron was astonished that Harry knew who all of these Muggles were. Harry was anxiously searching for Jo, and his face fell with disappointment each time she failed to emerge from a limo. Finally, Harry recognized Jo’s assistant from Bloomsbury as she emerged from a car, and he frantically waved to her. The woman spotted him and rushed over.
“Where’s Jo? I’ve been looking for her since we got here,” said Harry.
The woman shouted to him over the deafening noise of the crowd, “She’s not coming. Her husband is ill and she didn't want to leave him.”
Harry’s disappointment was obvious, and Ron was concerned that without Jo around, the security people would chuck them out. He needn't have worried, however, because Jo’s assistant offered to escort them into the theatre and verify the authenticity of their passes if necessary.
Since there was no need to wait for Jo, Harry suggested that they go inside the theatre to get out of the rain. Ron, being nearly dry, didn’t see what the fuss was about, but he was getting a headache from the crowd noise, and he welcomed the calm anonymity that was sure to meet them in the dark theatre.
However, they were not lucky enough to escape the notice of a television reporter as they passed through the media area. She grabbed Harry’s arm as he walked by and Ron stopped too.
“Hello. I’m Emma Jones from the BBC. Aren’t you two are spitting images of Ms. Rowling's Harry Potter and Ron Weasley! May I ask you a few questions?”
Ron decided to take his cue from Harry and was stunned when Harry answered, “Sure. Why not?”
“Fantastic,” said Ms. Jones. “Let me start off by asking your real names.”
Harry smirked, “I’m Harry Potter.”
“Ron Weasley,” said Ron into the microphone that was pushed in front of his mouth.
Ms. Jones laughed. “I see you wish to keep your real identities a secret, then. Perhaps you could tell us a little bit about yourselves and how you’ve come to be invited to this premiere.”
Harry shot Ron a nervous glance as the microphone moved towards him. “I, er, live just outside of London and work in law enforcement. We were selected by Ms. Rowling from a contest held by her publisher.”
The reporter nodded. “And a fine selection she’s made, indeed. So you’re an Auror, then, just like Harry Potter wants to be when he leaves school.”
“Yeah,” said Harry, “Harry Potter and I have a lot in common.”
“And you, Ron?” asked Ms. Jones, turning to Ron. “What do you do?”
“I work for the government,” he answered carefully.
“You must have read all of the Harry Potter books, right? Which one is your favorite?”
Ron panicked. He’d read the books ages ago, but he couldn’t remember which was which, or what the titles were. “The last one?” he said tentatively.
“And what was your favorite part?”
Ron shrugged. The truth was that his favorite part of sixth year involved Harry and him sneaking off to have illicit sex in the Room of Requirement while trying to keep Ginny and Hermione from catching on. But he was quite sure that Harry hadn’t included that information in his interview with Jo, so it wasn’t in the book. Fortunately, Harry jumped to his rescue.
“He liked the part where Harry attacked Draco Malfoy in the bathroom,” said Harry decisively.
“Yeah,” chimed in Ron gratefully, “only it was too bad Snape was there to heal him.”
“It’s interesting that you seem to share the real Ron Weasley’s dislike of Draco Malfoy as well,” noted Ms. Jones.
Ron was about to respond that considering the fact he was the real Ron Weasley, it shouldn’t have been all that surprising, but then he remembered that he was supposed to be pretending he was a Muggle. “The books don’t make him out to be a very nice person, do they?”
Ms. Jones asked Harry a few more questions, but she cut him off abruptly when one of the movie stars showed up. He was a very tall auburn-haired boy with a fetching smile, whom Ron recognized from the posters he’d seen. Ron noted that he was looking slightly uncomfortable in his blue velvet jacket, which was a shame, because it was really rather attractive on him. Then he saw gaping holes in his jeans and gasped.
“Is he supposed to be me?” Ron whispered into Harry’s ear.
Harry nodded. “Yes. They did a pretty good job of casting him, don’t you think?”
The boy was shyly waving to the fans, who were cheering louder for him than anyone else who’d shown up thus far. “He’s all right,” answered Ron. “But Mum would never have let me out of the house wearing jeans with holes in them.”
Harry reached over and rested his hand on Ron’s arse. “All the better to see his skin, don’t you think? But don’t worry – his arse isn’t as nice as yours.”
Ron watched while the young man turned away. As he waved to the crowd, his jacket rode up so that Ron could check out his backside. “I don’t know, Harry. It’s a nice arse if you ask me. ’Course, I can’t really see mine.”
Harry and Ron followed the crowd as it moved slowly in the direction of the lighted bridge leading to the theatre. As the young actor passed them, his eyes landed on Ron and he made a beeline for him. He held out his hand and introduced himself as ‘Rupert Grint’.
“You must not have tried out for the part, because you look more like Ron Weasley than I do,” Rupert said with a smile. He put an arm around Ron’s shoulders and mugged for the cameras. Before Ron realized what was happening, flash after flash of light was going off all around him.
Ron was still seeing spots when Rupert Grint moved on to shake Harry’s hand, and he chatted up a few more fans before heading onto the bridge. Ron glanced sideways to see Harry’s eyes dancing with amusement.
“I thought you said we weren’t going to attract attention,” said Ron crossly. “If I get sacked, you’re going to have to go to Scrimgeour and beg for my job back.”
“It’ll be fine, Ron. Don’t worry so much.” Harry found Ron’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Wow, listen to that cheering.”
The commotion had been caused by the presence of a lovely girl, who also seemed to be a crowd favorite. Her dress was slightly ridiculous – nothing at all like what the other girls were wearing – and she wore a silly headband across her forehead, but Ron supposed it was one of those things that you had to be a Muggle to understand.
“Who is that?” whispered Ron to Harry.
“Emma Watson. She plays Hermione.”
At Harry’s words, Ron broke out into hysterical laughter. Harry had to shush him to keep people from staring at them. “You’ve got to be joking!” he said loudly. “Even that time she dressed up at the Yule ball, Hermione never looked that good. I mean, where’s the hunched back from carrying so many books all the time? And Harry, if Hermione’d had boobs like those as a fourth year, I wouldn’t have waited until sixth year to kiss her.”
Harry glared at Ron with an incredulous look. “She’s an actress, Ron. Muggles like to glamorize characters in their films.”
“Well, Hermione would be pleased, I suppose. Have you told her about this Emma Watson?”
Harry shook his head. “You know how she gets when I talk about all this. Gives me that disapproving glare – you know the one.”
“I think she invented it for me,” said Ron with a nod.
They finally went inside the theatre, thanked Jo’s assistant for helping them and went off to find a secluded corner. After checking to make certain that no one else was about, Harry wrapped his arms around Ron and pulled him into a hug. Ron sought the reassurance of Harry’s lips and they kissed for several minutes.
“Harry,” said Ron after suddenly pulling away, “what if someone sees us?”
“They’ll probably be quite jealous of me,” he answered with a wink. Ron gave him a Look. “What?” laughed Harry. “It’s true.”
“I don’t know that Jo would appreciate word getting out that her handpicked ‘Harry’ and ‘Ron’ are gay.”
Harry brushed off Ron’s comment with a wave of his hand. “Oh, a huge number of her fans already think that.”
“Really?” said Ron, his eyes opening wide before squinting accusingly. “But I thought you weren't going to tell Jo about us.”
“I didn’t! These fans – they’re mad and they made it up all by themselves. It’s brilliant, actually.”
Ron glared at Harry skeptically. “You mean to tell me that these Muggles have somehow figured out that you and I are a couple and they, um, talk to each other about it?”
“Well, sort of. They write stories, mostly, and put them on the internet – you know, it shows on that computer I bought. It’s called ‘fan fiction.’ They take up where Jo’s novels leave off and then…er…they mess around with us.”
“What do you mean ‘mess around’?”
“We have sex a lot. Only…” Harry hesitated to tell Ron the rest, not knowing whether it would make him angry. “Only it’s not always me and you.”
“Who else then?”
Harry looked down at his feet. “Well, there seem to be a lot of stories about me and,” he coughed, “Malfoy.”
Ron roared with laughter. “You and Malfoy? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! Almost as funny as me and Malfoy.”
“Oh, those are fairly popular, too. So are stories about me and Snape. Now those are the ones I just can’t stomach.”
“Harry,” asked Ron, “are you taking the piss or have you actually read these stories?”
Harry snickered. “I’ve read them. Well, a fair few, anyway. Some of them are really hot. Like there’s this whole series that somebody wrote about you being in love with my arse.”
“How the hell did they find out about that? No, wait. I don’t want to know.”
Ron looked up as a security guard came around the corner and shooed them back to the main lobby. He said nothing, but shot Harry an “I told you so” glance with a smirk.
~*~*~
They stopped in the gents before going into the screening room and, on their way out, came face to face with the attractive boy from the poster. Ron thought he looked a bit like a leprechaun in his long green velvet coat, but his smile was wide and genuine.
“You two are amazing! Look, Dad, it’s Harry and Ron for real – has to be!” he reached out to shake hands with Harry, and the two of them stood staring at each other, dumbfounded. “Daniel Radcliffe. It’s so nice to meet you. Who are you here with?”
Harry was left speechless, struck by the beauty of the young man who portrayed him in the film, so it was left to Ron to answer.
“We won a contest. Ms. Rowling chose us as look alikes for Harry and Ron,” he said uncertainly. “But she’s not here tonight.”
Harry seemed to get over being star struck as he said, “I’ve seen all your films. You do a really nice job with Harry.”
“Thank you very much indeed,” said Daniel. “Sorry for staring, but your eyes are so cool. They must have been what won the contest for you.”
Harry glanced away shyly. “Yeah, well, maybe my hair as well.”
Daniel turned his attention to Ron. “Has Rupert seen you? I bet he’d think you make a fantastic Ron.”
Ron nodded, “Yeah, we met outside. Nice chap.”
“Very nice. Listen, it was lovely to meet you. Enjoy the film.”
Daniel disappeared into the restroom. Ron grabbed Harry’s arm and silently led him in the direction of the screening room. “You’ve got a crush on him, don’t you?” asked Ron with a smirk.
“No I don’t. I just admire his acting talent. He’s very good, you know.”
Ron couldn’t hide his amusement. “It’s his arse you admire, not his acting talent. I know that look, Harry. It’s sending you to a Very Bad Place.”
Harry put his hand on Ron’s shoulder. “He’s only sixteen years old, and he’s a Muggle. It’s not as if we have much in common.”
“And let’s not forget that you already have a boyfriend.”
“Right,” nodded Harry. “Can’t forget about that.”
Harry and Ron were shown to some seats near the back of the theatre, and Ron nearly squealed with delight when he discovered bags of popcorn sitting on their chairs. He’d gone with Harry to a few films over the past two years, and he was fond of saying that popcorn was the best thing Muggles ever invented.
They chatted with the people sitting around them, embellishing their story as necessary to keep themselves entertained, until finally, the film director and some others took to the stage and began to thank at least half of the United Kingdom and America. Ron pretended to snore until Harry poked him in the ribs.
“You know, I could be at home ravishing you instead of listening to this lot,” whispered Ron.
“Shhh,” answered Harry. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”
“Do you promise?” asked Ron hopefully.
“Only if you keep quiet.” Harry slid his hand across the armrest to grab hold of Ron’s.
At last the lights were dimmed and the film started to roll. Like the book, it started out with Harry’s vision of You-Know-Who’s return followed by Harry waking up at The Burrow. Ron thought the sets of The Burrow were very cool – different than the real thing, but just as homey. The film was familiar, yet different in a way that he couldn’t quite describe. It was captivating enough to keep Ron’s attention from wandering.
He got a much better view of Rupert Grint’s arse and was secretly pleased that Harry thought his was nicer. And he was seeing the appeal of that Daniel bloke they’d met in the hallway. He was fit, but almost a bit too pretty for Ron’s liking. Ron’s Harry was roughed up: scarred and calloused and even careworn at the eyes. Ron’s Harry hadn’t just acted the scenes – he’d lived through them and had survived more hardship than anyone could possibly imagine. There was no way to translate that to a movie screen.
Ron glanced over at Harry and saw him wringing his hands nervously. It hadn’t occurred to Ron until now that it might be upsetting for Harry to watch this particular year replayed for the whole Muggle world to see. But he knew Harry wouldn’t leave if he suggested it, so he resolved to keep a close eye on him. Or better yet, he could try distraction.
He reached over for Harry’s hand and then pulled it to his lips. Ron kissed each knuckle on each finger, lovingly caressing it as he moved from thumb to pinky. A sideways glance told him that Harry was still engrossed in the film. Ron tested the waters with a small lick between the first two fingers. When Harry didn’t pull away, he became bolder, until at last he took Harry’s index finger all the way into his mouth.
Harry leaned over and softly whispered, “Ron, I still have popcorn if you’d rather eat that than the salt and butter from my hand.”
“Thanks, Harry,” Ron whispered back, “but you’re really much more tasty than the popcorn.”
Harry turned to look at Ron, realizing for the first time that Ron was trying to flirt with him. He smiled and murmured, “How can you think about sex with all this going on?” He waved his hand towards the screen. “I promised to play with you later.”
“I always think about sex. You know this.” Ron sulkily settled for holding Harry’s hand and turned his attention to the film. Before long, he was completely engrossed as the images on the big screen combined with his memories in a most distressing way. He didn’t notice the few stray tears that leaked from Harry’s eyes during the part where the Harry and Ron in the film weren’t speaking.
Ron found the scenes in the maze to be fascinating, and he made a note to ask Harry later if that’s what it had been like. And then, suddenly, the Tri-Wizard Cup transported the onscreen Harry and that beautiful Cedric to the Riddle family graveyard. Harry whimpered beside him and was visibly shaken. As the events unfolded in the film, Harry became more and more agitated. Finally, he stood up and hurried out of the theatre.
Torn between his desire to see how they were going to do the scene and his concern for his lover, Ron watched another half minute before leaving the room himself. His first thought was to look in the restroom. When he opened the door, he could hear someone throwing up in the cubicle.
“Harry? Is that you?” he called tentatively.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Go back in and watch the film.” Harry’s words were punctuated by another retching sound.
“You don’t sound fine to me.” Ron wasn’t sure what to do, but he thought Harry might prefer to vomit in peace. “I’ll just wait outside. Call me if you need me.”
Ron felt terrible for Harry as he paced in the corridor. They’d seen a lot of death during the War, Harry more so than him, but Cedric was the first, and Ron knew that Harry still carried guilt about it. Ron would never know if the scenario depicted in the film was like the real thing, but he found it horrifying as well. It had been a bad idea to come here – Ron was determined to take Harry home as soon as possible.
~*~*~
Harry flopped onto the sofa the moment they got home. The evening hadn’t quite gone the way he wanted it to. He really thought he was far enough removed from the past that the film wouldn’t affect him. He was really wrong.
“You must think I’m a total wimp,” he muttered as Ron sat behind him, draping one of his long legs behind Harry and pulling him against his chest.
“I don’t,” murmured Ron into Harry’s ear. “It was hard for me to watch, too, and I wasn’t even there. It was a nightmare, what we went through, and you were right in the middle of it.”
Harry sighed. “But it was more than ten years ago. I should be over it by now.”
Ron’s hands began to roam over Harry’s body. “You don’t ‘get over’ something like that, Harry. If you were able to forget about it, you’d be no better than the Death Eaters. We’ll just have to be more selective in our cinema choices next time.”
Harry leaned into Ron contentedly. “You know which part I hated?” he asked.
“You mean besides the ending? No.”
“The part when you and I weren’t speaking. I hated it then and I hated remembering that again.”
Ron chuckled. “But you got to spend all that time with Hermione. Was she really fawning all over you like she was in the film?”
Harry shook his head. “No. We spent a lot of time together, mostly in the library as I recall. I think it’s just that screenwriter making it up. It always seems like he wants to get into Hermione’s pants. He’s given all the best lines Jo wrote for you to Hermione. It makes her seem so witty.”
“Hermione? Yeah, great sense of humor, that girl,” said Ron, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But, if they can let her have boobs, I suppose they can give her a sense of humor too.”
Ron skillfully opened Harry’s buttons, and soon there was a pile of discarded clothing on the floor. “I behaved myself at the premiere, so I think you promised me some attention,” said Ron as he bent down to lick Harry’s newly exposed collarbone.
“Are you sure you even want me after watching all of those beautiful boys this evening?”
Ron turned Harry’s shoulder so that they were face to face. “I always want you, even when you’ve been puking in the toilet. And I want you as much now as I did back when we were sixteen.” He helped Harry to his feet and led him to their bedroom. “Which gives me a great idea.”
Harry’s eyes darted around the room as Ron began to transfigure the furniture into pieces that used to adorn the... “Room of Requirement? Should I be worried?”
Ron summoned some candles from the other room and lit them with his wand. He surveyed his work – not bad for only having his fading memories to draw on. “I was thinking that if you wanted a trip down Memory Lane, we can certainly find some memories that are more pleasant than some old graveyard.”
Harry smiled as he dropped his boxers and climbed onto the bed. Ron settled in next to him and they kissed deeply. “The four-poster and candles are nice, but I don’t think I want to reenact our pathetic attempts at sex. You’re a much better lover now that you’ve got years of experience under your belt.”
“Hmmm. But I’m still in love with your arse.” Ron lovingly fondled the arse in question while he kissed any part of Harry that his mouth could reach. “You say there’s a whole series of stories about your arse?”
“What? Oh, yeah, the fan fiction. Yeah. To tell you the truth, though, I think the writer of those is in love with you. She seems to have you pegged pretty well, anyway.” Harry set his glasses on the bedside table and went back to kissing Ron.
“I want to read those later, after I’m done having my wicked way with your arse,” said Ron.
He proceeded to dive under the covers and make Harry forget anything unpleasant that happened during his fourth year at Hogwarts.
finis
A/N: Obviously, the stories about Harry's arse were written by the birthday girl herself. Go read them now!
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