A/N: Strange title isn't it? Well don't forget to R&R! Thanks to Marsetta for being my beta!
This is going to be a continuous Drabble, but updated at my convince. I have a few ideas for the next few chapters, but you are welcome to review and suggest funny situations to put our boys through. This story is meant to be a stress reliever so I apologize in advance for the sporadic updates.
A shiver went up Draco's spine as he felt another sneeze coming on. Luckily he was able to cover the speeding mucus with his handkerchief. Once he cleared his nostrils, knowing that they would be full again within a couple a minutes, he looked at the piece of cloth with disgust. Handkerchiefs were supposed to be for decoration only, an accessory on the breast pocket of his formal robes. Using it as a tissue was barbaric; the practice was probably even muggle originated.
"Need another wash down love?"
Draco looked up at the pleasantly plump redhead offering him a sweet smile. He tried to lessen his disgust that easily showed on his face. No point in upsetting the help.
"Yes" He immediately handed the soiled handkerchief to Mrs. Weasley, who in return stuffed a thermometer into his mouth.
"Keep that in. We have to make sure you don't have a fever." Draco tried not to scoff at the women. She had already checked him three times that morning and made him choke down a cherry flavored muggle potion. Mrs. Weasley looked him up and down one more time before returning to the kitchen where everyone else was eating breakfast.
Draco at the moment was sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair and had a plate of toast and some cheap black tea that he refused to drink. He was covered in a layer of blankets and separated from the rest of the group just because he was sick. Though unluckily for him, Mrs. Weasley had turned his chair in order for him to 'interact' with the table full of Gryffindors, but he wasn't allowed within three feet of them just in case he was contagious. He cursed the open concept of the new hideout.
A few months ago his father seemed to have a change of heart and asked Dumbledore for sanctuary. Though Draco was glad that he wasn't in constant fear of death and torture from the Dark Lord, he felt that he had just switched tormentors. Potter and his golden trio didn't trust him and Draco honestly felt the same way. Old habits die hard and he felt that they would never be on civil terms.
The only reason that they haven't pulled their wands out on them is because they made a promise to Dumbledore…and they were threatened by Mrs. Weasley. Draco felt that the latter had a better effect.
A few weeks ago their hideout in London had been revealed forcing the Order to separate. The younger members, and the Weasel parents, found that they were stuck in this, ridiculously spacious, old hideout.
The floor leaked, there was no hot water, and it was always very cold. Draco absolutely could not stand it. It was also probably one of the reasons that he was sick. The Weasley's were used to living in these germy, poor conditions while he had always had a clean and warm environment. He wished that he had had the chance to retreat with his parents.
Since there was a rule that they always had to stay in groups he had been forced to be roommates with the awful Weasley twins. He never thought he could hate anyone more than Potter. The two prats constantly put slimy things in his mattress and always messed up the order of his belongings.
Before he could think of ways to avenge his dignity, Mrs. Weasley returned with a clean, damp, rung out handkerchief. He accepted it graciously and dabbed at his nose. Mrs. Weasley pulled the thermometer out and tutted.
"No fever, but you look so pale." She murmured to herself and checked her temperature herself by placing the back of her palm on his forehead.
"Mother, he always looks sickly; that's his natural complexion." Ron teased causing everyone at the breakfast table to laugh. Before Draco could retort Mrs. Weasley stepped in.
"Ronald, what have I told you about that smart mouth of yours?" Her glare chilled the redhead to the bone or maybe it was the house, either way Ron shivered. He flushed red with embarrassment as the twins found humor in his scolding. Even Draco smirked a little.
"Sorry Mum, just trying to help." He looked down at his plate, avoiding her gaze. Mrs. Weasley gave him a grunting noise in response, letting everyone know that she did not believe him.
"How very sweet of you Ronald, since you want to help out so much why don't you bunk with him tonight?" Ron's head bolted back up.
"Why? He's sleeping with the twins!" Ignoring the bout of giggles the twins burst into at the double meaning of the sentence, Ron tried to find some sort of a joke in his mum's words.
"I mean it. You're the least likely to get sick. Remember when we all had Dragon Flu? You were the only one who didn't catch it."
"But mum!"
"No buts!" Mrs. Weasley closed the matter by clapping her hands together and returning to the sink.
"Dad?" Ron looked at his father desperately. His father pulled up an old newspaper to his face, avoiding his son's desperate plea.
"Listen to your mother." Mr. Weasley chose to wisely stay out of it. If he had to deal with Malfoy Sr., his son would suffer right along with him.
Ron groaned, defeated. It wasn't as if he couldn't defend himself, the purist Slytherin looked as though a gust of wind would knock him down. Now that he got a better look at him he did seem paler then usual, even his platinum blonde hair seemed dull and lifeless.
He quickly turned back to his breakfast with the realization that he might actually felt bad for the git. He shook off the feeling and finished his breakfast quickly. He got up to put his plates next to his mother to wash and before he could escape his mother's voice stopped him.
"Ronald I want you to come outside with me and pick some mushrooms in a few." Ron nodded quickly and fled up the stairs trying not to look at the sickly Slytherin. He collapsed on his temporary bed wondering why he would be so upset over showing concern for Malfoy. It was probably saint-like to feel this way, given their history, but Ron hated it. He only felt sympathy for things and people he liked. He couldn't feel sympathy for Malfoy because he did not like him.
Who names their child Draco anyway? It such a ridiculous name! The memory of their first meeting came to mind. He had laughed when Malfoy had introduces himself not only because his name was weird, which it was, but also because his mannerism didn't seem to match the time period. Malfoy acted like the royal princes his mum used to read aloud to him and Ginny.
His train of thought stopped when he realized in silent horror that he had just referred to Malfoy as a prince, which was wrong on so many levels. First, princes are handsome. He had, inadvertently, just called his childhood rival handsome.
Ron groaned into his hands. It wasn't as if the Slytherin was ugly, he was actually above average in the looks department if Ron was being honest with himself. Even Gryffindors seemed to be attracted to the ignorant bully. His face looked as though it belonged on a roman painting. Nice cheekbones that gave him a look of masculinity even with his delicate features and lithe body.
Ron sat up and rushed to the sink to splash his face with cold water. His thoughts were getting too detailed for his liking. Staring at himself in the mirror he took the time to look at his own features. Probably not as handsome *shiver* as Draco, but Ron had to admit that he looked pretty damn good. His face seemed sharper than he remembered and he was actually growing facial hair.
Because of the war he had let his hair grow out again, though it wasn't a tangled mop like Harry's, it had its own wild look. His freckles stood out against his skin, but seemed to add to his rugged look. Maybe if he had looked like this a few years ago Hermione might've chosen him over Krum. Ron shook away the memory, refusing to deal with the pain of losing his first love before he even had her.
He winked at himself in the mirror; with looks like this he could have any witch in London. The unnatural conceded thoughts made him chuckle. It reminded him too much of Mal- He was thinking about the git again!
! #$%
The air outside was cold and bitter making Ron want to go inside and curl up under his blankets. He honestly had no idea where they were hiding, only knowing that they were somewhere near Sweden, they were not allowed to leave the grounds and they had not seen any locals.
His father, Fred, and George were the only ones allowed to get provisions. Harry, naturally, wasn't taking it well. Ron and Hermione were upset as well, but it was all to protect Harry.
A strong gust of wind broke his train of thought and made Ron wish he had a thicker coat. There was no time to grab it while they were running for their lives. Another blow to ego was the fact that his mother looked as if she was strolling on the beach on a nice warm day. The cold didn't faze her! They've been foraging through the dead bushes and looking at fallen logs for an hour.
"Mum, I don't think we're going to find any mushrooms. Do they even grow when it's this cold?"
Molly turned to him, rubbing her hands on her apron giving a defeated sigh. "I guess not love, but let's not waste the moment lets collect some wood for the fire."
Ron suppressed a groaned they weren't going inside anytime soon. He knew that they needed to be warm tonight so he knew not to complain, but he was still sour about his mother making him room with Malfoy and bringing on his confusing thoughts earlier. As if his mother knew what was on his mind she spoke up.
"Sweetheart. I know you and Draco are not the best of friends," His mother sat on a fallen tree and motioned him to join her. Ron discreetly rolled his eyes.
'Not the best of friends?' that's the understatement of the year.' He thought bitterly, bringing back pleasant memories of their worst encounters.
"But," His mother continued once he joined her, "I want you and your friends to start being a little more civil toward the poor boy."
"The poor boy!" Ron exclaimed shocked. Draco was not the victim in the situation. Many of people have gotten hurt because of him and his family and he was a right awful bastard.
"Mom he isn't exactly nice to us!"
Molly sighed and placed her hands on top of his. "I know sweetheart. Draco and his family are very prideful by nature, don't give me that look I'm not defending him, and even though they realized that following the dark lord was the wrong road to go on it's not going to fix their attitudes or selfishness.
"And we're not making this transition easy for them by not trusting them fully, even I have my doubts about Lucius, but we have to be nice. Thanks to this rivalry our families have against each other the hate seems to have intensified. Even though they'll probably never apologize for the things they've done we need to put it aside in hopes that we can bring the Dark Lord down. Do you understand me Love?"
Ron really did understand what his mother was saying, but he had to admit that he was every bit as prideful as Draco and he did not want to be the one who had to be the 'bigger wizard'. He nodded anyway. The way his mother smiled seemed to make all his aversions go away. He loved it when it she was proud of him.
"Now let's get this wood and go back inside if we stay out here any longer we'll be as sick as Malfoy!"
!' #$
When they entered the house, arms bursting with thick branches, they found that the only two people on the main floor were Fred and Draco, who hadn't left his position that he was sitting in since breakfast.
They deposited their findings next to fire place, Ron throwing a few in the fire hoping, in vain, that it would make the house warmer. He was about to go and wash up when he heard his mother clear her throat loudly. He turned to her and she directed her head towards the resident Slytherin.
Ron gave her a look that said 'Now?' She gave him another look. 'Yes, Now!' She left no room for argument and went straight up the stairs. The warning was clear. Ron was in trouble if he didn't make peace by the time she came back down.
Fred, unbeknownst to Ron, had noticed the display and turned his head towards his brother and Malfoy. He didn't know what was about to happen, but something in his gut told him it was going to be good.
Ron sighed and walked to stand in front of Draco. He still looked as awful as he did that morning and he was covered in another blanket and wearing a blue hat that Hermione had knitted.
Draco glared at the redhead in front of him. "Better not get to close Weasley. Don't want cha to catch my cold." He coughed purposely into air openly hoping to drive away the Gryffindor. He honestly did not want to hear anything that he had to say.
Ron grimaced at the onslaught of spittle mist, but stood his ground. He didn't smile, but he did put on a look of neutrality.
"Look, Malfoy I don't care if you're sick. I know that we have never gotten along, but since we'll be rooming together until you're better I think that it's better that we make a civility truce. Voldemort is our enemy, not each other, so I don't think we should be pushing away from each other, but strengthening our bonds. I also want to say I'm sorry if you felt like you haven't been included. So what do you say?"
Ron held out his hand and waited.
"That was bullshit if I've ever heard it!" Fred exclaimed snickering.
They all knew it. Ron had completely lied through his teeth. The only thing that they didn't know was Draco's reaction. Even Draco himself was at a standstill. On one hand he knew that the redhead was lying and probably being threaten by the weasel matriarch, and he would be also if he didn't accept the truce.
On the other hand he didn't see the need for them to be friends, he was quite happy with their relationship as is, but of course the former had to be done. He didn't need Mrs. Weasley as an enemy. But he wasn't going to accept it with open arms…wait, maybe he should…
Draco mustered up all of his energy and jumped up from his confinement of blankets. He plastered a sickly sweet smile on his face that scared both Ron and Fred.
"Oh, thank you Ronald!" He put one hand on the confused redhead's shoulder while the other one went out to shake the exposed hand.
"You're honestly the best person! I've been waiting for you to say something like that this entire time. I hope we can be great friends!"
Ron felt that something bad was going to happen. He wanted to forget this entire deal and run away. Draco's voice was sounded like honey, but only promised vinegar.
Draco went to put his other hand on Ron's empty shoulder. He tightened his gripped with the rest of his strength pulled Ron forward in a forced kiss. He made the moment more dramatic by humming into the Ron's lips before releasing him with a pop! He quickly gathered his blankets and went up the stairs to his bed room.
"See you tonight Weasley. I hope you don't get sick!" The Slytherin said snickering before he was out of sight.
Ron hadn't moved from the spot Draco had released him. It was as if had been petrified. His mouth was still pursed tightly in a disgusted frown. He knew the git had only did that to make him sick and though he was disgusted by that fact, he was even more disgusted with himself for feeling a spark when their lips connected. He didn't even like the Slytherin! Something like that should not have happened! He poked out his tongue dramatically and made a nose vocalizing his displeasure.
Fred hollered in laughter!
"I honestly saw that coming!"
! #$%
The Next Morning…
Ron coughed into his hand pathetically as he looked up his mother with sad eyes.
"Honestly mum it's just the sniffles."
Molly tutted and shook her head, tucking him in even more tightly under his blankets.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, but I'm going to have to quarantine you two to this room until you're better. We can't afford for anybody else to get sick. I'm surprised that you got sick."
Her back was to Draco so she did not see his triumphant smirk.
"I'll bring you a light breakfast. Do not move from those beds!" With a warning glare, she left the room.
"Geez, I really don't know how you got sick! I'm so sorry you caught my cold *cough**cough*!" Draco mocking was cut short, but it still had its expected result.
"I hate you." Ron said with true malice, turning to look Malfoy, whose bed was parallel from his.
"I know." Draco said proudly and suddenly was as giddy as a child. He blamed this deliriousness on his cold.
"Fate must really hate me for wanting me to be nice to you!" Ron said bitterly, turning his back on Draco. He had had enough of him already and wished that he could avoid him.
"You're not the only one who is suffering here Weasley." Draco bit back. "How am I supposed to be civil to you?"
Ron snorted, "You're not the only one who's regretting it."
Draco snorted at that remarked, which he fully blamed his cold on.
"This adventure in civility in this old cold hideout we're about to start had better be worth it mum." Ron muttered under his breath.
A/N: Hey everyone! This fic was based on an episode of Rosanne I watched the other week. Though it turn out completely different- plot wise. If you think you know which episode I'm talking about leave a review and guess!
Well I have to be honest with you this was just supposed to be a 'less than 500 word' drabble for my other story 1,000 words or less, but it turned into this so, I think I'm up to putting these two through hilarious and serious situation that help them grow. Requests for situations are welcome and will be considered. I'm trying to connect the Dron-Lovers out there. I know I have a few loyal reviewer/followers so I'm also going to take the time and thank-you guys you're awesome!
(I know right? Everyone should know of my awesomeness! :D Mars)- LOL Thanks again Marsetta
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