Ron stumbled back to reality that night, finding it in the Gryffindor dormitories. One of the school barn owls waited for Harry in the fourth-years' bedchamber with a message that Ron knew was from Sirius. On his way up, one of the sixth-year Gryffindor prefects informed Ron, with an air of stuffy superiority she might have learned from Percy, that he and Harry would be serving their detentions with Snape the following evening.

Normally, a detention with Snape would be improved by Harry's presence, but right now ...

Harry walked into the dormitories shortly after Ron, looking put out, or possibly stuffily superior.

"You've had an owl," Ron told him, and left the room as quickly as possible without looking back.

Some part of Ron knew that the day would come when he would have to admit that he missed Harry. Hanging around with the twins and Lee was entertaining enough, to be sure, but it wasn't the same.

He could live without Harry for one more day, though, and the possibility that one more day would bring Harry's admission that he'd sought this attention and excluded Ron on purpose, as Ron was painfully sure Harry had done, was enough to keep Ron marching out through the portrait hole and on down the stairs into the echoing darkness of the school's corridors.

He walked for what felt like hours. He didn't even pay attention to where he was going, aware as he was that getting lost in Hogwarts could be a permanent condition. Down a clean, torchlit, stone corridor, he began to hear voices, and soon ran into Ernie MacMillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and a handful of other Hufflepuffs from his year whose names he'd never bothered to learn. There was a blond bloke with a particularly haughty sneer whom Ron had never tolerated - he had some common name Ron couldn't be arsed to remember.

The entire group was shooting Ron suspicious glares. He couldn't be sure what he'd done to earn their mistrust, until a familiar voice snuck up behind him and whispered in his ear.

"Keen, aren't you? Looking for me so soon, and so close to the entrance to my house?"

Ron span about to find himself nose-to-nose with Cedric, in all his glory. He'd spoken so softly that none of the rest could possibly have heard him, but his very presence and recognition of Ron took the bite out of their glares, and they turned away, heading down the corridor and around a corner. Dimly, Ron heard something heavy slide aside, then back into place, and the voices were silenced.

"Couldn't wait until tomorrow night, then?" asked Cedric once they were gone. His tone was teasing, but with a gentle, playful lilt. Delight sparkled in his eyes, making Ron's blood rush south.

Embarrassed that he'd ended up here, of all places, at all times, Ron turned toward him, trying to form his protest, but Cedric caught him at the mouth and hips, intruding with his tongue and hands and fingers, sending Ron stumbling backwards into the nearest wall until he was panting, pressed up against stone and utterly enveloped in the searching, possessing touch of Cedric's lips and fingers and tongue and hands and knees and ... oh, sweet Merlin ...

Somewhere, far away, on the edge of Ron's consciousness, someone was moaning with pleasure. It wasn't until Cedric pulled back and regarded him with a grin that Ron realised the voice had been his own.

"Come on, then," Cedric laughed, not waiting for a response. He grabbed Ron by the belt, dragging him back away from the place where the other Hufflepuffs had disappeared, into an alcove behind a heavy, velvet curtain. No light penetrated that space, and very little air or sound. It was as though lifting aside a barrier into a pocket out of time, where nothing could interrupt nor discover them.

Cedric wasted no time, but tore at Ron's tie and shirt, digging his searching fingers into the tender flesh of his chest and stomach. Ron was still gasping at the contact, at the possibility that any of this could be real, when Cedric opened his trousers and reached into his pants to take firm, controlling hold of him. The suddenness of contact, coupled with the enticing roughness of Cedric's Quidditch-calloused palms, made Ron cry out and throw his head back, banging it painfully into the rough stone of the wall. Cedric let out a soft, somewhat smug chuckle and began grasping and stroking Ron in a quick and demanding rhythm. Mind swimming, Ron let his hands fly up to his own head, pressing against his temples to try and keep his brain from flying apart.

It didn't take long for Cedric to find Ron's hands, where they were resting by his head, and to guide one down to the most exciting place Ron could imagine putting it, against Cedric's swollen crotch, which rubbed eagerly against it. Cedric's free hand was opening his own trousers and pushing his pants aside, encouraging Ron's hand to venture inside, to mimic the impossibly amazing action that Cedric's hand was accomplishing on Ron's body. Just feeling his hand come into contact with the yieldingly firm smoothness and texture and weeping swollen bulging tip, Ron convulsed and cried out, and half-collapsed against the wall as Cedric grunted, squeezing the last spasms out of him.

Ron sagged against the wall, slipping downward, hand still gripping what it had been gripping before. It didn't even occur to him to think about what he was doing before he had fallen to his knees and brought his lips to his fist, taking first the fleshy tip and then Cedric's full length into his mouth. It tasted salty and dry, like a neck might when its owner has got sweaty playing Quidditch and then wiped himself clean. Ron pursed his lips into a firm circle, sucking in, trying to swallow his grin as Cedric moaned deeply, sending vibrations through Ron's own throat and into his groin.

Cedric's fingers found their way into Ron's hair, threading tightly, almost painfully, as he guided Ron's head forward and back, hips thrusting in and out, Ron trying to relax his throat against the inevitable gag reflex as he tried to take more and more of Cedric in through his mouth.

When Cedric finally grunted and stilled, Ron's jaw was aching and his lips were raw from friction. He tried not to think of swallowing, but merely let Cedric's seed spill down his throat. For a moment, he could only hold himself close to his idol, nose buried in the thatch of musk-scented curls at Cedric's crotch, breathing him in.

I'm really here, Ron had to tell himself, in order to believe it. This has really happened.

Feeling Cedric grown soft in his mouth, Ron massaged the wilting member with his lips and tongue, swallowing any remaining drops, continuing to nuzzle, then kiss, then nip and lick around Cedric's groin until firm hands on his face urged him to climb to his feet.

"Merlin, you're fantastic," purred Cedric in his ear. "Wish I'd known sooner ... we could have had a lot more fun, all those summers."

And with these words echoing in his ear, Ron felt a hot, wet mouth attack the sensitive pulse-point on his neck, licking and nipping and sending waves of arousal coursing back through him, when he thought he was already spent.

It still didn't seem real, even with Cedric's teeth on his collarbone and the full, re-hardening weight of Cedric's body pressed fully against the length of Ron's own. It couldn't possibly be true that after so many years, Ron was finally here, being frotted by the one person who had always enthralled him, throughout his entire life.

And then Cedric's lips and teeth and tongue found Ron's nipple, and he saw and heard and thought nothing but stars for the next several minutes.

When Cedric's mouth found its way back to his earlobe, and had worked its magic for several more minutes, Ron was achingly hard again. He had grasped Cedric's hips and begun to grind against them when Cedric suddenly backed away half an inch and the crushing heat of full-body contact was stolen away.

"This was a lot of fun, wasn't it?" murmured Cedric in a grumbling sort of purr. "Thanks, Ron. You're a great kid, aren't you?"

And with that pronouncement, he slipped back through the curtain and was gone.

Ron sagged against the wall, throbbing and aching for more. The word 'kid' pulsed in his mind, wanting to spoil his good mood, but he pushed the thought away. Cedric's new attitude - a bit arrogant, a bit superior, but really still the same Cedric under it all - made their stolen moments even hotter, made his breath run even shorter.

He slumped there a long time, trying to collect himself so he could make the walk back to Gryffindor Tower. By the time he could find his wits again and emerge into the corridor, there was no sign of anyone at all.