A/N: I started thinking, "What would happen if someone chose to disobey the Hogwarts motto?", and well, this was the result. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Note for non-British readers: A 'stag party' is the same thing as a bachelor party. A 'pub crawl' is a popular stag party activity: visiting as many pubs as possible in one night.

Disclaimer: JKR's playthings.

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus

"A trip to Romania? Wow, Harry!" Ron looked up, grinning, at his best friend, who in a week's time would be standing by his side as he said his marriage vows to Hermione. "You're the best best man ever!"

Harry grinned in return. "Well, you supported me in the fight against Voldemort for years. The least I can do is give you a great stag party. Besides, we haven't seen Charlie for ages."

"Does he know we're coming, or will it be a surprise?" Ron asked.

"Let's see ... you, me, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Bill, George, Percy and Hagrid all turning up on his doorstep unannounced? I don't think that's the kind of surprise he'd enjoy. Of course he knows we're coming, you twit."

Ron gave Harry a friendly punch on the shoulder, perhaps a little harder than was necessary.

...

That evening, nine wizards were lined up in front of the fireplace at the Burrow. Harry had organised several Floo connections throughout Europe, via his contacts in the Department for Magical Transportation. They were to arrive in Romania in little over an hour's time.

Mrs Weasley was fussing over everyone, making sure they had everything they needed for the trip. When she reached Ron, the last in the line, she pulled him into a tight squeeze. "Have you packed clean underwear, dear?"

"Yes, Mum," Ron said, wriggling away from her. "Are you still going to embarrass me like this when I'm a married man?"

"I still do it to Bill, don't I? Now, take care, love, and be safe. I'll see you when you get back." She kissed him on the cheek, and then stood back to watch as the members of Ron's stag party each took their turn to step into the green flames.

...

"Ron! Congratulations!"

Charlie pulled his youngest brother into a manly embrace. "So Hermione is finally making an honest man out of you?"

"I don't know about that," Ron muttered, turning slightly red.

"Come in everyone, sit down, there's Butterbeer and Firewhisky in the living room!"

For a man living alone, Charlie's house was surprisingly spacious. Ron supposed that property prices around here must be quite cheap, considering that it was right on the edge of a dragon reserve. The men sat down on Charlie's comfortable sofas, and began the evening as they meant to go on: by consuming large amounts of alcohol.

"Charlie, will we be able to go out and see the dragons later?" Dean asked eagerly.

"That's probably unwise, Dean," said Percy in his most stern voice, but Charlie laughed.

"I don't see why you shouldn't. Most of the ones here are fairly tame, as long as they're not provoked."

Hagrid grinned at this, and downed a large shot of Firewhisky in one. "'Ow's Norberta doin', Charlie?" He asked.

"Great!" Charlie replied. "We've managed to successfully breed her, and she's now a proud mum to eight. They're the first Norwegian Ridgebacks born on this reserve."

Hagrid and Charlie launched into a lively conversation about dragons, becoming livelier and livelier as they consumed more and more Firewhisky, but Ron was only half listening – his mind was on other things.

"Does she really love me, Harry?" He asked his best friend, his speech slurring slightly.

"Of course she does, Ron."

"But, but, but she's so pretty and clever and wise! I'm just a, just a red haired ridiculous -"

Harry held up his hand. "Ron, I'm going to stop you there. It's pre-wedding jitters, that's all. You two are perfect for each other – and I should know, I've put up with you both for long enough. Now drink some more Firewhisky and relax."

Ron did.

...

It had been Seamus's idea to go on a pub crawl of the nearby village. He had insisted that no proper stag party would be complete without one. And so it was that they found themselves sitting in a small, slightly dirty inn called the Dragon's Maw, their fourth pub that evening, several members of their party barely able to stand. Neville had fallen asleep in the corner, and Bill, Charlie and Hagrid were singing Odo the Hero with their arms around each other.

"My favourite rendition of this song will always be Hagrid and Slughorn's," Harry remarked, sliding down the bench slightly, a stupid grin on his face.

Ron burst into uncontrollable giggles. "Hagrid and Slughorn? Oh Merlin, I wish I'd been there to see that!"

Both men sat in silence for a while, and Ron's eyes roved around the interior of the inn. There were pictures of dragons on every wall, and something suddenly stirred in his brain.

"Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus," he muttered.

Harry looked up at him, one eye half closed, an extremely confused expression on his face. "The school motto? 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon'?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Hey, Harry, you know what would be really funny?"

...

Harry had tried to talk him out of it. Drunk as they both were, it could not be denied that Harry had done his damnedest to make his friend see sense. "No, no, Ron, you can't," he had pleaded. "This trip was my idea, and you know who'll get it in the neck from Hermione if something goes badly wrong." But Ron had not heeded his friend's advice, and now here he was.

Ron had snuck off on his own during Charlie's tour of the dragon reserve. The others were at least a hundred metres away, admiring the new baby Chinese Fireballs that Charlie had recently acquired. Ron, however, was standing in front of large female Welsh Green, sound asleep and shooting little puffs of smoke from her nostrils as she breathed in and out. It was now or never.

"Plumibus!"

A large bunch of feathers sprouted from the tip of Ron's wand. Ron, still very drunk, couldn't stop himself from giggling as he crept up to the sleeping dragon, feathers in hand. He wasn't thinking about Hermione's anger, or Harry's disappointment in him – the only thought in his mind at that moment was how damn hilarious this was going to be. Why, it would go down in Wizarding history!

...

"AAARGH! MERLIN'S TESTICLES! WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE BLOODY HELL! RRRRAAAAAAAAGH!"

The screams brought Ron's eight companions running. Harry's face paled in horror as he looked at his friend, blood dripping from a massive gash in his forehead. Bill and Charlie immediately crouched down beside Ron, and began cleaning the wound as best they could with healing spells.

"Mate, what did you do?" George asked.

"It seemed like a good idea," Ron groaned. "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus ..."

Charlie looked appalled. "Ron, you didn't, did you?"

"I thought it would be funny."

Charlie's expression was growing darker. "Hogwarts has that motto for a reason, you know? Never, ever antagonise a dragon, Ron! That's the first thing I ever learned when I came to work here. What will Mum say?"

Ron's eyes grew wide with terror. "Oh no, oh please, you can't tell Mum!"

"I guess this stag party is over," Neville said to Harry.

Harry sighed. "I did tell him not to."

...

Ron was lying in a bed in St Mungo's when he was confronted with his worst nightmare: Hermione's Angry Face. He closed his eyes, and prayed that it would go away, but when he opened them again, the Face was still there. Hermione clearly had something to say.

"Well, well," she began. "Look at the state of you."

"Hermione, I -"

Hermione stopped him. "I'm talking first, Ron. Honestly, I can't believe, I simply cannot believe the utter, crashing stupidity of what you did. What on Earth can you have been thinking? Surely you must have realised that you were setting yourself up for a grievous injury? And the week before our wedding!"

"I'm sorry," Ron said sheepishly.

"You'd damn well better be sorry!" Hermione was almost shaking with rage. "You could have died! Just look at that wound – what are you going to look like in the wedding photos? Honestly Ron, I didn't think even you had the capacity for something this foolish."

"To be fair, I was very drunk ..."

"Oh, well, that makes it all right, then!" Hermione's voice had grown very shrill. "This is the kind of thing you could have been expelled for, if we were still at Hogwarts!"

"May I point out that we are, in fact, no longer at Hogwarts?"

"And may I point out that you're in no position to be making sarcastic remarks? I haven't forgiven you yet, you know." She glared at him.

Ron's heart sank. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I really am. I know it was stupid. And you mustn't blame Harry, even though the trip was his idea."

"Oh, I place the blame entirely with you, Ron, no need to worry about that."

Ron turned very red. "You ... er ... you are still going to marry me next week, aren't you?" He looked up at her with pleading eyes.

Hermione stopped glaring, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Of course I am. You're very lucky I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley. But you're going to have to wear a very big hat."

THE END