Author's note: Dedicated to a lovely friend on Facebook, a non-Ron bashing, Draco and Ron can actually be civil, drabble :)
-WP
"And then he just leaves!" Hermione yelled. Ron nodded, using his foot to tap at glowing embers before they set his living room on fire.
"Did you expect anything different?" Ron asked. Hermione huffed and even as a green flame he could see the narrowing of her eyes.
"I'm not in the mood for Draco-bashing tonight."
Ron smirked. "Oh, but you can do it?"
"I'm not bashing!" She quickly argued. "I'm complaining. I still love the idiot."
Ron shook off a shiver and plopped himself down on his couch. A full two years of his best friend and him together and he still couldn't get used to her saying that she loved him.
"He'll come back, you know," Ron told her. "You fight, one of you leaves, and then you're back again. Why I haven't the foggiest clue, but that's Cupid's screw up."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron…"
"Still not bashing," he reminded. "Just pointing out the obvious."
"Yes, well...you are right. He'll come back. I just wish we could avoid the this step," Hermione frowned. Ron frowned with her and scratched at his head before giving his final round of advice.
"You'll figure out a way to deal with him. Brightest witch of her age, remember?"
Hermione grinned. "Thank you. I'd better go. I'm finalizing that flight whether he likes it or not."
Ron chuckled. If she thought she could get Malfoy on a plane then she was mad. A complete lunatic. The perfect candidate for St. Mungo's Janus Thickey Ward.
Hermione bid her farewells to him and soon Ron's fireplace was empty and no longer giving off its warmth. He stretched and was about to get ready for bed when there was a knock on his door. He wasn't expecting any guests and so he walked over with a tilted head and furrowed brow.
Without opening he asked, "Who is it?"
"You're a pain in my arse, Weasley. Now open the door."
Ron was already feeling a migraine coming on, but he did as his guest asked and greeted him with a huge, welcoming smile.
"You really know how to charm me, Malfoy. Truly."
"Bite me," Draco grumbled before rudely pushing pass Ron to enter his house and going straight for the kitchen. Ron groaned internally before locking up and following the man who was walking around like he owned the place. He found the blond going straight for the cabinet that had his firewhiskey.
"What did she say about me?" Draco demanded as he poured himself a glass. He raised the bottle a bit towards Ron and the redhead reached for it to drink straight from the bottle.
"She thinks you're being completely unreasonable about the plane," Ron divulged as he sat down at the counter. Draco huffed, downed his glass, and refilled it.
"It's a metal tube that goes into the air," Draco said slowly. "And it's run by two muggles in that cock-whatever. If it goes down we're dead. Dead."
"Not to mention the whole trip could take a full day or more since it's Australia," Ron added with a cheeky grin. "With more than one stop, meaning more than one plane."
The look on Malfoy's face was priceless.
"I'm not going."
"You're going. Hermione's buying the tickets. She told me."
"Buggering hell," Draco grimaced. "Doesn't she care that I absolutely hate the idea of an airplane?"
"Hermione never not cares," Ron answered him. "She just thinks you're crazy and overreacting. She doesn't get the fact that things like airplanes confuse the hell out of people who know nothing of the muggle world."
Draco nodded. That right there, that one thing Ron had said, was the reason he was there drinking up the man's liquor. The main crux of his and Hermione's arguments were his refusals to muggle activities that baffled (or scared) him or made no sense when he could just use magic. Roller coasters. Cars. Microwaves. Things like that.
This unlikely "friendship" between him and Ron had formed because of a fight between Draco and Hermione a while back. Some arbitrary thing about muggle cameras that had led to a bigger fight and subsequently leading to Draco throwing back a shot or two at the Leaky Cauldron. Ron had been there, indulging just the same to recover from his own spat with his particular significant other. They had greeted each other purely because they had a mutual witch in common. And that's when it started.
"Hermione's going to make me shove my wand through my eye," Draco grumbled as he sat down at Ron's table, his glass ringing as it hit the table. "Anyone with half a brain can see that a magical camera is better. Who the hell wants to look at a still photograph?"
"Muggles," Ron said simply despite other urges telling the blond to bugger off. "It's what they like."
"But she's a witch,"
"A muggle-raised witch. She's going to have an appreciation for muggle things. You'd better get used to it," Ron told him as he signaled for more firewhiskey. "If you plan on making it work with her, you're going to have to deal with getting muggle traditions thrown at you."
Draco sat back in his seat and eyed the man across from him suspiciously. "Are you giving me dating advice?"
Ron thought for a moment before shrugging. "Yes? I'm drunk."
Draco huffed before giving the man a nod. "I'm nearly there, so I'll allow it."
A fresh bottle of firewhiskey appeared on the table and Ron poured more for himself and refilled Draco's glass. They sat in silence, drowning their stomachs and killing their livers with alcohol and allowing the substance to make them forget, just for tonight, that they hated each other.
"...you have got to kidding me. SPEW?"
Ron laughed. "S.P.E.W. is the correct way to say it."
"To hell with saying it correctly," Draco dismissed. "I pray to Merlin that I never have to endure that particular tirade."
"Do you plan on living with her one day?"
Draco faltered. "Um… Well… Yeah, I would like to."
"Do you want a house elf?"
"Naturally,"
"Then you'll hear about it," Ron grinned. "And get nagged. And eventually fall under the pressure since a pissed off Hermione Granger isn't a pretty sight."
Draco started to smile and then chuckled. "You tried, didn't you? To get a house elf?"
Ron nodded and knocked back perhaps his fifth shot. "And Hermione wasn't even living with me."
Draco sighed and rolled his thumbs into his temples. "Hermione and I are going to argue a lot, aren't we?"
"Where magic and non-magic things collide, definitely," Ron admitted. "Hermione and I argued a lot too."
Yes, Draco knew that. It still bothered him that the redhead and Hermione used to date and were still good friends.
"Have a little more patience with her than I did, yeah?" Ron urged. He then leaned over the table and added, "If you don't, and she gets hurt, I'm kicking your arse."
Draco cocked a brow. "I have no intentions of hurting her." Then he smirked and piled on, "And the day you kick my arse is the day we go skipping through the Forbidden Forest holding hands."
Draco kept his laugh at the memory to himself and looked up at Ron. Ron Weasley. The only pureblood he knew who could possibly understand his struggles between what he knew, didn't know, and didn't want to know about muggles and their habits.
"Did Hermione ever make you get on airplane?" Draco asked. Ron shook his head.
"She tried. Harry ended up going with her."
"Where'd they go?"
"Australia to see her parents."
"Oh."
Draco frowned and eventually sighed. He finished off his glass and placed the empty vessel in the sink.
"I'd better go. The longer I'm gone the more pissed she gets."
Ron smiled. "Yes, she does. What are you going to do about the plane situation?"
"Find out how much splinching damage can be done if you disapparate mid-fall and figure out how to pray to that God fellow."
"Good call," Ron agreed. "Now get out so I can sleep."
"Certainly," Draco replied pleasantly and with a cruel grin. "With a face like yours you need all the sleep you can get."
With a middle finger raised Ron showed him out. The blond would be back in one week tops.
