Pairing: Ron/Draco, Ron/Hermione (hinted)

Rating: R (for later chapters)

Spoilers: Uhm, none, I think.

Author's note: I should probably point out right now that this is something I told Jaime (SnoopyPez) that I'd do simply because she wanted to have a place to read it. This fic (almost the whole awful thing) was done piece by piece in IM conversations with her, and it shows. If it appears choppy, that is why. And this is really just an experimental fanfiction, so review if you wish, but I already know how bad it is. J If you want good fic, go read "I'm Not In Denial" by MamaLaz. That is all.

And now….

THE DAILY PROPHET

By: LuMaria

The Underestimated Crabbe and Goyle

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Draco Malfoy curled his lip in what he hoped came across as severe annoyance. His acquaintances, Crabbe and Goyle, who stood at the door, stared at him blankly as if he'd just said merely "hello". Draco sighed and tapped his foot on the cold floor of the dormitory he shared with the two oafs, crossing his arms over his small chest. "Well? When I say meet me at nine o'clock, I mean meet me at bloody nine! Not five minutes after!"

"Sorry," said Crabbe, shrugging. The action made his whole body seem to jiggle unpleasantly, and Draco was suddenly reminded of a giant bowl of the Blancmange his mother often insisted on the house-elves making when guests came for parties. Draco never really liked to eat it, and the new association with Crabbe's body movements ensured he would never eat it again.

"Sorry? That's it? Well, it's a good thing I wasn't in mortal peril in here, or I'd be dead for sure, what with waiting on you two for half an hour," Draco shook his head, swinging his blonde hair out of his eyes. "I've been wanting to show you something since I saw it in the Daily Prophet today. Look." He held the newspaper clipping out, and the two buffoons looked at each other, but neither of them moved toward him. "Well? Did you hear me? Or did McGonagall transfigure your ears off today in that detention you had?"

"Well..." Goyle started, scratching his bristly head slowly. He looked at Crabbe for some sort of assistance. "It's just..."

"Well, is it about..." Crabbe fidgeted, looking only slightly less fidgety than his friend.

"What are you on about?" Draco drawled, dropping his outstretched hand, still clutching the article. He backed up and sat on his bed without looking behind him. "You both look like you're going to faint. Snap out of it," he commanded, raising his pointy face, his chin jutting up higher. "Come read this."

There was again no response from the burly boys by the door. Draco was getting seriously annoyed, they usually just did whatever he told them to do. It was an unspoken agreement they had reached at a very young age, and he was not pleased to see that they were not upholding the agreement at this particular moment. "What is wrong with you two?"

"It's just that...well...we're sick of reading about Potter and Weasley." Crabbe stood up straight, and crossed his arms, looking down at the shorter Slytherin boy.

"What?" Draco's steely gray eyes narrowed. "Explain, please? How exactly do you know what this article's about?"

"You only clip articles about Potter or Weasley or Weasley's family," replied Goyle with a short shrug. "We took a guess."

"Have you been drinking some sort of Stupidity Draught?" sneered Draco,clenching his fists , the article falling on the floor. "Not everything I show you is related to Potter and Weasley."

Crabbe leaned over and picked up the fallen article. He began to read aloud, lumbering through the words at an agonizingly slow pace.

New Minister of Magic Appointed

Arthur Weasley, former head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was appointed as new Minister of Magic on Wednesday, writes Digglesby Dartman. "I suppose I haven't thought about it much," Weasley said to reporters when asked how he felt about his new position. "Right now I'm just focusing on getting us through the War, not on my social or political standing."

Though many Ministry officials have offered words of support and congratulations to the new Minister, some critics feel that the Ministry made the wrong decision.

"It's an outrage," said one prominent wizard with ties to the Ministry, who chose to remain anonymous. "If they thought the Ministry was shoddy with Fudge at the head, just imagine what it'll be like with a blunderer like Weasley running it."

Cornelius Fudge was removed from the position three months ago after being declared insane from prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse. Weasley has been filling in as Acting Minister of Magic since Fudge's removal.

"There's more," Crabbe said with a frown, "but I think we've seen all we need to see."

"No," Draco said impatiently, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "The 'prominent' wizard is Father, so I wanted to show you--"

"Come on, Draco, you don't have to cover up for us. If you fancy Weasley, that's your business--" Goyle's words were stopped by Draco's foot stamping on the floor. He looked like he was about to throw a terrible tantrum.

"WHAT are you TALKING about? I don't fancy Weasley! You've both gone mad!" Draco snatched the article from Crabbe's stumpy hand and backed away a few steps. "You're completely off your trolley, both of you! And since when do you string together whole sentences?!"

"He thinks we're stupid," said Gregory Goyle with a smirk.

"You know, I think you're right, Goyle" said Vincent Crabbe.

Draco clenched his fists and looked down at the floor, mentally counting to ten. He closed his eyes briefly. *When I open my eyes, I'll just be waking from a dream. Crabbe and Goyle will be the same idiots as always, sharing one brain cell between them, and I'll not have just been accused of fancying Ron Weasley.*

He opened his eyes.

He wasn't dreaming. Crabbe and Goyle were still smirking at him, and they both turned toward the door. "We'll let you get back to daydreaming about Weasley," Crabbe said.

"Or Potter," sniggered Goyle.

"Or both!" they gasped at the same time, laughing madly as they exited the room, leaving a very flustered and confused boy behind them.

"They've gone mental! Or maybe...maybe I've gone mental," Draco muttered, sitting once again on his bed and burying his face in his hands. Surely his simpleton friends weren't right. He was sure there had been lots of times he had shown them clippings and articles that weren't about Potty and Weasel, or one of their friends.

He thought about it. He thought some more. Then he thought about it again. He groaned.

His friends were right. Everything he saved was Potter/Weasley related.

Bloody hell. Was he obsessed?