Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction and no profit is being made, monetary or otherwise, through the writing of this.
A/N: AU, deviates from canon events. The Death Eaters invade the school before Draco joins their ranks. Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Assignment #3, Care of Magical Creatures, Task: Write about three unlikely people coming together for something. Extra Credit: Bonus points if the three characters are from three different houses
Note: The events in the middle of this story are not told in great detail to keep this story within the word count limit (300-3500). Additionally, I feel like going into greater detail would make the story drag. This is told from an injured Ron's point of view and does, purposefully, end in a rather 'fluffy' fashion and without a definitive ending. I like to leave some room for the reader to imagine what happens next. I acknowledge that this is not to everyone's taste.
"We have to keep going, they're gaining on us!" Draco shouted. He pushed at Ron's back, urging the injured boy forward, away from the general melee that surrounded them in the Forbidden Forest.
The castle had been overtaken by Death Eaters. Several students were dead, some professors, too. In the chaos that surrounded the battle being waged by members of the Order of Phoenix and the Death Eaters, Ron, Luna and Draco had been secreted away, out of the castle, along with a number of other students. The students had been grouped in threes and sent off in different directions and told to find safe haven, that someone would be sent to gather them when the battle was over.
Unfortunately for Ron, Luna and Draco, their trio had been sent off into the Forbidden Forest where they'd met with a number of angry, confused trolls. They'd managed to escape from the vast majority of them, but a few were still pursuing the trio in a lumbering, yet quick gait. Ron had been injured in the initial escape from the castle and had become more of a burden than an asset in their bid for safety.
Dizzy, Ron closed his eyes and prayed that the sensation of vertigo would pass. Getting hit over the head with a wooden club had done him no favors. He could almost hear the twins teasing him about it, and hoped that he'd be able to tell them off for it; that he'd survive his run through the troll-infested forest with Draco and Luna; that he'd live to tell the tale and be teased mercilessly about it. That his brothers, wherever they were, would survive the Death Eater's invasion.
"Don't worry, we're almost there," Luna said in an airy voice that did nothing to ease the queasiness in Ron's stomach, or the throbbing pain in his head. She patted him on the arm and placed her arm through his, hooking their elbows together.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, we're never going to reach safety if we don't get moving!" Draco grabbed Ron around the waist with a steadying arm.
"Come on," Draco said, voice filled with impatience. "Get a move on."
A tree crashed somewhere nearby, shaking the earth, making Ron's teeth chatter like a Muggle typo-writer (his father had brought one home just the other day). It was a strange contraption, and Ron couldn't make heads or tails of it.
"I'm doing the best I can," Ron said through teeth gritted in anger and pain. He was hurting and confused and he just wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep until everything was over. He stumbled on a root and Draco's arm tightened around Ron's waist, fingers digging into Ron's hip, as Draco attempted to keep all three of them upright.
"Well, your best isn't good enough," Draco said. "Your best is going to get us killed."
"The wood fae will keep us safe," Luna said, unconcerned, voice airy and full of certainty.
"There are no such thing as wood fae," Draco argued, panting as he all but hauled Ron over another large root.
Luna made a thoughtful humming sound, and Ron found comfort in that, and in how her thin elbow was tucked against his side. Locked between an irascible Draco and a calm Luna, Ron felt safe in spite of their rather dire circumstances. In spite of the fear clawing at his heart. He'd watched Harry, Hermione and Neville run off in another direction from them, the purple light of a dark spell chasing them.
"You're bleeding," Draco said in a voice that was both matter-of-fact and accusatory.
"Mhm." Ron found that words were beginning to escape him. He'd felt the trickle of blood running down the side of his face and thought it was rain. It almost tickled. He could feel it pooling into his left ear.
Head heavy, Ron let it sink down to his chest. He opened his eyes and almost sicked up. The ground was moving beneath his feet, but his feet weren't touching it, and the earth seemed to dip and sway. It was dizzying and rather discombobulating.
Another tree crashed to the ground - leaves rained down on their heads - as a troll felled it with a careless shove. For a brief moment, the trio was airborne, and then they were crashing to the ground.
"Don't you dare," Draco said as he and Luna hauled Ron to his feet.
"'M not gonna," Ron said, petulant. He hadn't thrown up since he was a little kid.
"It's okay," Luna said, voice quiet and firm as the grip she had on Ron's elbow. .
"None of this is okay," Draco said.
"Over here." Luna tugged at Ron's arm, pulling him, and Draco out of the path of another wooden club.
Stumbling, Ron nearly did lose the contents of his stomach as bile rose at the back of his throat and tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. He was tired, his head hurt, and he just wanted to lie down and sleep for a very long time. Mostly, though, he wanted Draco to stop talking in that loud, buzzing voice, droning on and on about something that sounded like, "Stay awake..." and "Keep moving..." and "We're almost there, weasel."
"'m not a weasel," Ron said, and then giggled at the sound of his voice; it was like a melting chocolate frog sliding off a windowpane.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, Weasley!" Draco's lips brushed against Ron's ear, and though the rebuke wasn't loud, it still made Ron jump.
"There!" Luna's whispered shout and subsequent pull forward made Ron's already aching head feel like it was going to fall right off his shoulders.
"Here, take him," Draco said, and before Ron knew what was happening, he was being shoved. He had no time to do anything other than fall - arms windmilling, legs useless - into what felt like a bottomless pit.
When the sensation of falling had finally ceased, Ron opened his eyes and was face to face with Draco whose pale eyes were wide in ill-contained panic, lips thinned out in worry. Ron opened his mouth, and then closed it when he felt like his stomach was trying to crawl its way out of it.
"Sit back," Draco said in a quiet, yet commanding voice. "Let Lovegood take a look at your head."
The bright light at the tip of Luna's wand was like a stab to Ron's brain and he slammed his eyes shut, only to have them pried open by Draco. "Keep your eyes open, Weasley. We need to assess for a concussion."
"Hurts," Ron said.
"I know, I'm sorry," Draco said, and shocked at the kind tone of voice the Slytherin used, Ron managed to keep his eyes open while Luna and Draco examined him.
"We need to keep him awake," Luna said, voice quiet and hard as stone. Ron missed her other voice, the one that seemed to float on the air before reaching his ears.
Time took on a quality all its own as Ron floated in and out of consciousness to the sound of quiet voices whispering nearby; the feel of soft hands on his face, his neck, his shoulders, pushing him down, holding him in place when he tried to get up out of the oppressive darkness. It was surreal, and yet, through it all, Luna and Draco were a comforting constant in Ron's waking nightmare. They were his anchor, his saviors. They talked in hushed voices, and in Ron's more lucid moments, they shared childhood stories and laughed. In his less lucid moments, Ron felt his cheeks wet with tears, and his voice raw from shouting.
Hours, then days, passed. Draco talked until his voice petered out when Ron wanted to hear a story and was afraid of the silence. Luna sang. Ron, when he was up for it, told gut-busting stories of the twins. They all laughed until they cried, and then they held onto each other through the tears, finding comfort and warmth in each other's arms.
Luna conjured up water. Draco talked them through the hunger. Ron did his best to wake whenever he was jostled by Luna or Draco, until he could no longer seem to get his eyelids to cooperate.
"You can let go now." Another voice floated over Ron some interminable time later, crashing through a fever dream in which he was a snitch and Fred and George were chasing him. It was a familiar voice, but Ron couldn't quite place it, and he was just as reluctant to let go of Luna's and Draco's hands as they were to let go of his.
"Maybe we should move all three of them together, Severus." Another familiar voice, gentle, caring, washed over him. And then Ron was being lifted. Draco and Luna's hands gripped his even tighter and all of the panic that had started flooding him at the thought of moving, left him like air from a balloon.
"You're safe now," the caring voice said.
"It's over?" Draco's voice trembled. Ron squeezed the other boy's hand.
"It's over," the other voice, the Severus voice, said. It was sad, tired, and Ron didn't like the sound of it at all.
"Don't worry, Ron," Luna whispered, lips brushing his cheek in a sisterly kiss.
"We've got you," Draco said, thumb tracing over Ron's knuckles as he responded to Ron's unvoiced distress. And with that, Ron relaxed and let sleep finally claim him, trusting that Luna and Draco would look over him as they had in their safe haven; their voices mingling with those of the adults, rose over him like a lullaby. No matter what the future held, Ron knew that he wouldn't have to face it alone and neither would Luna and Draco. Together, the three of them would face whatever the future held.