-Tapestry-
A/N - This is warped. And not in my usual way, either. My first posted piece of Potter Fiction, though it isn't about Harry save for being mentioned a few times in passing. Malfoy/Ron slash, my absolute favorite coupling ever, and the rating might be a bit harsh for advertising purposes *_* This will be continued whether or not it is liked; however, reviews are always appreciated!
***
Surprisingly enough, it was Malfoy who proved most helpful. Though he swore he had no ulterior motives, I knew he'd been keeping an eye on Harry-for what reason, however, I don't know. I recognized his interest in Harry, yet Malfoy still surprised me when he approached me in a courtyard during our free hour.
The stone gargoyle is where I often go to think. It's a monstrous marble thing set off in a corner beside an enchanted rose bush. Because of its wings, there's a secluded nook that's perfect for escaping my problems for at least a few minutes between Defense Against the Dark Arts and Advanced Transfigurations. I've a knack for changing things into other things. I guess I'm even better than Fred and George by now.
But I was at the gargoyle.
By pushing against the ridge which runs down its spine at the base of its tail, I can lean quite contently against the cold stone for hours-or until they call us in again for class.
Malfoy found me before I even knew he was looking; his voice, like the rest of him, was silvery and smooth with a trace of disliking for whatever he spoke of. As was usual when he spoke of me, the loathing was apparent; I must be the one thing he dislikes most of all.
"Weasley," he nearly purred, stepping up and onto my gargoyle's fat and curling tail. I rolled my eyes, attempting a casual disinterest.
"What is it now?" I crossed my arms over my chest and stifled the urge to growl. "You want to make it even more obvious for the others that we could hardly afford school books again this year? Go ahead, Malfoy, I dare you." He raised his eyebrows into the loose strands of his hair; I couldn't tell if he was insulted or impressed with my outburst.
"Actually," he murmured smoothly, "I was going to invite you to lunch."
***
It was odd enough that Draco Malfoy had invited a Weasley-any Weasley-to dine with him, but what I found even more odd was that I joined him willingly at the shadowed end of a table that noon.
He was, as he had been earlier, toying with a small something in a pocket of his robes, and eating with his other hand. His grey eyes remained fixed on me, making me feel extremely nervous but to my advantage, however, as all sorts of odd little ideas flitted through my mind. When he spoke it was with all seriousness, though it was not his usual, casual icy drawl. He seemed today a bit nervous yet still in control of every move made and word spoken.
"Ron," he said hesitantly, which was startling and refreshing after being called Weasel for so very long. "I have a deal I'd like to make with you."
Sensing he wasn't about to curse me or mock me in any way, I said, "What's that?"
He paused, biting his lip in an action which was very much not a part of Malfoy's suave, sophisticated manner. "Well, I..." His eyes trailed from mine as a hand clamped down on my shoulder-it was Hermione, looking rather miffed that I was consorting with a sworn enemy like Malfoy.
He straightened up, his eyes adopting their hard silver glint I had been expecting back on the lawn. "Well, Weasel, the day I give you the answers to a Potions exam is the day I become a prefect of Gryffendor." He glanced at me, apologizing with his eyes as he swept off to finish his lunch with his house.
Hermione was less than pleased with me and she told me off properly.
"What in Heaven's name do you think you're doing? Cheating on any exam is terrible, but I thought you would have more common sense than this! Trying to get the answers to one of Snape's exams from a Slytherin? And not just any Slytherin-a Malfoy? Y'know, Ron, sometimes you can be so stupid!"
She flounced off before I could say anything, joining Neville and a large stack of books at the next table over. She was tutoring him, though anyone could tell her as well as I that it would take a lot more than shoving a load of books into his grasp to help him in a class like Potions.
I was puzzled about what sort of deal exactly Malfoy was trying to make with me. He slipped me a note as we spilled out of the Great Hall which instructed me to meet him at the end of a corridor near to where my Herbology class was held. I was to wait next to the tapestry after my lesson. I could only wait after that.
***
The tapestry was very large and very ugly. It seemed to be rotting from the bottom hem up, and mold spread over the sparkling threads which came together in a tranquil scene of unicorns and eagles and a sort of wild dog which reminded me very much of Hagrid's Fang. I waited for what seemed like half an eternity, always watching for a trick or something lain out by Malfoy. I had begun to eye the dog-things when he came, panting, down the corridor. He was flushed and, needless to say, completely unlike any side of Malfoy I have ever seen in all the time I've known him. He grinned broadly at me as he came to a stand-still in front of me.
After a moment leaning on his knees and breathing hard, he stood up, smoothed his hair back, and glanced over his shoulder. Then he drew closer, standing right beside me, and, hardly moving his mouth, said in a hushed tone, "The very walls have ears. Follow me, but don't let's make this place known." He beckoned me to follow with a swift movement of his hand, and disappeared behind the decaying tapestry.
I hesitated a full moment before following. All of this seemed so out of character for Malfoy, who was usually at this moment taunting some poor first-year with their decrepit hand-me-down book or robe or wand. It struck me as odd that he would so suddenly attempt to form an alliance with me. What did he want of it?
I glanced down the long stretch of corridor before ducking behind the tapestry.
It was one of many secret passages through the walls of the school. Fred and George had probably been here within their first week of classes, but I decided not to tell Malfoy this. He seemed to have enough on his plate at the moment. The passage was very dark and very damp, but he muttered a few words under his breath and a small silver flame appeared in the palm of his hand. He tossed the flame at the wall, and a stone pulled itself from its setting and became a sort of shelf for the light.
"I brought you here because I think that I can trust you, Weasley," he said, reminding me of who I was dealing with. "I think that you won't tell all of the rest of this place what will-hopefully-be mentioned between us over time."
His eyes were by this time very large and sparkling, excited by the prospect he was about to expose for me. He bit his lip again and it seemed for a moment he was going to squeal or giggle. The look he gave me was very similar to one which Ginny expresses when she wants something from me.
"Ron, tell me if I'm ever wrong when I assume things about you." I nodded, shrugged, and watched him as he did a sort of sidestep to avoid a very small beetle on the floor. He waited until it had disappeared into the shadows beyond the reach of his conjured flame and then looked at me again.
"You have never experienced power, Ron," he told me, not unkindly. "You have never experienced wealth or respect in the way that I as a Malfoy have." He smiled in a manner so unlike the slick, smooth, deceptive bully he often was that I shivered, the hairs at the back of my neck prickling.
The silence was unbearable. "So what?" I prompted, "So what if I haven't? What's it got to do with anything?"
"I can help you achieve these things," he sparkled, his eyes growing even wider. "I can give these to you on a silver-no, gold-platter, Ron." I thought his face would split under the pressure of his smile. "But, like everything in this life, it has its price."
I began to wonder what I had that he hadn't. I began to try to think up things that he should want from me, but I could think of none.
"You don't know what I want in return, do you, Weasley? You don't know what I could possibly need from you so terribly badly?" I shook my head slowly. There was something definitely odd about this picture...
"You have never beheld material wealth, Ron," he repeated, giving me another chance. Then, so slowly he should have burst, he said, "And I have never known the powers of love. Please say you'll do it, Ron. Please say that you'll make the deal." The sparkle continued, but it was now pleading with me.
"Teach me to love, and I promise you all the riches of this world, Ron."
I considered all of this for all of about one moment before answering.
"You've got to hold up your end of this," I said slowly. He beamed, and held out his hand for me to shake.
"A Malfoy never goes back on his word."
***
Hermione still wasn't speaking to me the next day, but it really wasn't much of a loss. We've never really gotten along very well, as anyone could tell you. Fred and George often tease me about liking her, which is completely the opposite. At my age, if I like a girl, I don't pretend to hate her.
On the contrary, Malfoy was actually somewhat civil to us all. He continued to press Harry's patience, however, which was expected of him, and send Snape after Hermione's perfect grades, but to me he was as a guardian angel is to his charge. And amidst his generous gestures towards me, he still managed the pretense that we were as unfriendly as we had always been.
It was during breaks from class, early mornings, and late evenings that he showered me with attention and gifts. It did not even seem to anger or shock him that I had yet to hold up my end of our little bargain. Supposedly the little things he gave me were those I had been lacking in his life until now, but they were all a bunch of silly toys I could have done without. However, as was usual with any Malfoy, the trinkets he lavished upon me were without any doubt expensive.
After lunch on a Thursday, he cornered me in a secluded corridor with glittering eyes.
"I've brought you something," he said, his hand submerged in the pocket of his robes. "I've been working on it for some time now, with help from Professor Flitwick and a seventh year Ravenclaw girl." He produced a small black box with a velvet, blood-red ribbon fastened around its lid and handed it to me without another word.
Still not used to this gentle, innocent side of Malfoy, I studied it cautiously for a long and silent moment before he huffed out his breath and rolled his eyes.
"Come off it, Ron, I'm not going to curse you," he scoffed. "Just open it, would you?" So I opened the weighted box wordlessly and took out-
"A-a snowglobe?" It was, indeed, a snowglobe-one of those Muggle novelty glass domes with a tiny scene inside that, when shaken, produced the effect of snow drifting lazily onto Muggles skating on a frozen lake or something equally as ridiculous-and the tiny town within was light and sparkling, with tiny snowflakes falling onto the quiet village and Muggles strolling the streets. And then I noticed that the minute people within were actually moving and interacting.
"An enchanted snowglobe," Malfoy corrected me, looking quite pleased with himself. Careful not to disturb the tranquil scene, I replaced the globe within its box and closed the lid. The light from inside continued to shine from an artificial sun set in the dome somewhere.
"It's lovely." He sparkling even more, terribly pleased that he had done something so marvelous for me. It would have been more marvelous had it been given to Harry, who was used to the Muggles' tendency for useless decorations and knick-knacks. "Er-Malfoy, I haven't exactly been given the opportunity to do what I'm expected in this deal..." His expression of pure joy did not shift in the least.
"That's all right. You'll make up for it later; I have complete faith in you."
An enormous weight seemed to have lifted from my shoulders. "Good." Then, a repressed idea flickered through my mind. "Ah-I did, actually, have a thought the other day while I was trying to sneak the answers to the Divination homework the other night." Malfoy beamed. "She's a Hufflepuff- cute girl-eyes like a pixie's and hair-I'd have to point her out to you at supper or something..."
His face fell. Apparently, I had missed the point of finding him the love he had been denied, because he put his hand on my shoulder as he shook his head.
"Weasley," he said, hesitating. "Ron." I was dumbfounded as he took his hand away again, bit his lip, and nearly whimpered into his hand. "I'm afraid you've got this a bit-confused."
Confused? How...?
"Y'see," he continued on, ignoring the puzzled look on my face, "When I said I wanted you to teach-to find-me love, I thought you knew..." His brow furrowed heavily, a pained look crossed his face. Then he scowled. "Oh, Weasley-You honestly can't tell me that you've never seen the way I look at- " Again, he paused, this time glancing nervously around before finishing smoothly, "-at Harry?"
Though this caught me as a very gauche statement to have been uttered by a Malfoy, I was not totally surprised by it. Truly I had not seen the way he claimed he looked at Harry, but it did make sense that Draco would be taken by him. He was, after all, sought after by my only sister and that nuisance Colin Creevey; he, indeed, was near the top of the class and had earned more points for Gryffendor than anyone else in at least a century. In fact, now that the thought had been introduced to my mind, he did have those piercing green eyes and such perfect pale skin...
"I see."
If I hadn't known any better, I would have said that Malfoy's world had just collapsed onto itself in his mind. He drew himself away from me- apparently he thought that I was some sort of homophobe-and so, without thinking, I reached over and pulled him into an awkward hug. Awkward because of the nature of the gesture, as opposed to me being worried I would be the newest object of his affections, but after a moment it became a very natural sort of thing for us, as though we should have thought to exchange an embrace sooner.
"Thanks," he whispered, and we pulled away enough for me to see the tears trickle from the corner of his eye. With a weak smile, he turned away, wiping his eyes, and disappeared around the corner.
***
A/N - This is warped. And not in my usual way, either. My first posted piece of Potter Fiction, though it isn't about Harry save for being mentioned a few times in passing. Malfoy/Ron slash, my absolute favorite coupling ever, and the rating might be a bit harsh for advertising purposes *_* This will be continued whether or not it is liked; however, reviews are always appreciated!
***
Surprisingly enough, it was Malfoy who proved most helpful. Though he swore he had no ulterior motives, I knew he'd been keeping an eye on Harry-for what reason, however, I don't know. I recognized his interest in Harry, yet Malfoy still surprised me when he approached me in a courtyard during our free hour.
The stone gargoyle is where I often go to think. It's a monstrous marble thing set off in a corner beside an enchanted rose bush. Because of its wings, there's a secluded nook that's perfect for escaping my problems for at least a few minutes between Defense Against the Dark Arts and Advanced Transfigurations. I've a knack for changing things into other things. I guess I'm even better than Fred and George by now.
But I was at the gargoyle.
By pushing against the ridge which runs down its spine at the base of its tail, I can lean quite contently against the cold stone for hours-or until they call us in again for class.
Malfoy found me before I even knew he was looking; his voice, like the rest of him, was silvery and smooth with a trace of disliking for whatever he spoke of. As was usual when he spoke of me, the loathing was apparent; I must be the one thing he dislikes most of all.
"Weasley," he nearly purred, stepping up and onto my gargoyle's fat and curling tail. I rolled my eyes, attempting a casual disinterest.
"What is it now?" I crossed my arms over my chest and stifled the urge to growl. "You want to make it even more obvious for the others that we could hardly afford school books again this year? Go ahead, Malfoy, I dare you." He raised his eyebrows into the loose strands of his hair; I couldn't tell if he was insulted or impressed with my outburst.
"Actually," he murmured smoothly, "I was going to invite you to lunch."
***
It was odd enough that Draco Malfoy had invited a Weasley-any Weasley-to dine with him, but what I found even more odd was that I joined him willingly at the shadowed end of a table that noon.
He was, as he had been earlier, toying with a small something in a pocket of his robes, and eating with his other hand. His grey eyes remained fixed on me, making me feel extremely nervous but to my advantage, however, as all sorts of odd little ideas flitted through my mind. When he spoke it was with all seriousness, though it was not his usual, casual icy drawl. He seemed today a bit nervous yet still in control of every move made and word spoken.
"Ron," he said hesitantly, which was startling and refreshing after being called Weasel for so very long. "I have a deal I'd like to make with you."
Sensing he wasn't about to curse me or mock me in any way, I said, "What's that?"
He paused, biting his lip in an action which was very much not a part of Malfoy's suave, sophisticated manner. "Well, I..." His eyes trailed from mine as a hand clamped down on my shoulder-it was Hermione, looking rather miffed that I was consorting with a sworn enemy like Malfoy.
He straightened up, his eyes adopting their hard silver glint I had been expecting back on the lawn. "Well, Weasel, the day I give you the answers to a Potions exam is the day I become a prefect of Gryffendor." He glanced at me, apologizing with his eyes as he swept off to finish his lunch with his house.
Hermione was less than pleased with me and she told me off properly.
"What in Heaven's name do you think you're doing? Cheating on any exam is terrible, but I thought you would have more common sense than this! Trying to get the answers to one of Snape's exams from a Slytherin? And not just any Slytherin-a Malfoy? Y'know, Ron, sometimes you can be so stupid!"
She flounced off before I could say anything, joining Neville and a large stack of books at the next table over. She was tutoring him, though anyone could tell her as well as I that it would take a lot more than shoving a load of books into his grasp to help him in a class like Potions.
I was puzzled about what sort of deal exactly Malfoy was trying to make with me. He slipped me a note as we spilled out of the Great Hall which instructed me to meet him at the end of a corridor near to where my Herbology class was held. I was to wait next to the tapestry after my lesson. I could only wait after that.
***
The tapestry was very large and very ugly. It seemed to be rotting from the bottom hem up, and mold spread over the sparkling threads which came together in a tranquil scene of unicorns and eagles and a sort of wild dog which reminded me very much of Hagrid's Fang. I waited for what seemed like half an eternity, always watching for a trick or something lain out by Malfoy. I had begun to eye the dog-things when he came, panting, down the corridor. He was flushed and, needless to say, completely unlike any side of Malfoy I have ever seen in all the time I've known him. He grinned broadly at me as he came to a stand-still in front of me.
After a moment leaning on his knees and breathing hard, he stood up, smoothed his hair back, and glanced over his shoulder. Then he drew closer, standing right beside me, and, hardly moving his mouth, said in a hushed tone, "The very walls have ears. Follow me, but don't let's make this place known." He beckoned me to follow with a swift movement of his hand, and disappeared behind the decaying tapestry.
I hesitated a full moment before following. All of this seemed so out of character for Malfoy, who was usually at this moment taunting some poor first-year with their decrepit hand-me-down book or robe or wand. It struck me as odd that he would so suddenly attempt to form an alliance with me. What did he want of it?
I glanced down the long stretch of corridor before ducking behind the tapestry.
It was one of many secret passages through the walls of the school. Fred and George had probably been here within their first week of classes, but I decided not to tell Malfoy this. He seemed to have enough on his plate at the moment. The passage was very dark and very damp, but he muttered a few words under his breath and a small silver flame appeared in the palm of his hand. He tossed the flame at the wall, and a stone pulled itself from its setting and became a sort of shelf for the light.
"I brought you here because I think that I can trust you, Weasley," he said, reminding me of who I was dealing with. "I think that you won't tell all of the rest of this place what will-hopefully-be mentioned between us over time."
His eyes were by this time very large and sparkling, excited by the prospect he was about to expose for me. He bit his lip again and it seemed for a moment he was going to squeal or giggle. The look he gave me was very similar to one which Ginny expresses when she wants something from me.
"Ron, tell me if I'm ever wrong when I assume things about you." I nodded, shrugged, and watched him as he did a sort of sidestep to avoid a very small beetle on the floor. He waited until it had disappeared into the shadows beyond the reach of his conjured flame and then looked at me again.
"You have never experienced power, Ron," he told me, not unkindly. "You have never experienced wealth or respect in the way that I as a Malfoy have." He smiled in a manner so unlike the slick, smooth, deceptive bully he often was that I shivered, the hairs at the back of my neck prickling.
The silence was unbearable. "So what?" I prompted, "So what if I haven't? What's it got to do with anything?"
"I can help you achieve these things," he sparkled, his eyes growing even wider. "I can give these to you on a silver-no, gold-platter, Ron." I thought his face would split under the pressure of his smile. "But, like everything in this life, it has its price."
I began to wonder what I had that he hadn't. I began to try to think up things that he should want from me, but I could think of none.
"You don't know what I want in return, do you, Weasley? You don't know what I could possibly need from you so terribly badly?" I shook my head slowly. There was something definitely odd about this picture...
"You have never beheld material wealth, Ron," he repeated, giving me another chance. Then, so slowly he should have burst, he said, "And I have never known the powers of love. Please say you'll do it, Ron. Please say that you'll make the deal." The sparkle continued, but it was now pleading with me.
"Teach me to love, and I promise you all the riches of this world, Ron."
I considered all of this for all of about one moment before answering.
"You've got to hold up your end of this," I said slowly. He beamed, and held out his hand for me to shake.
"A Malfoy never goes back on his word."
***
Hermione still wasn't speaking to me the next day, but it really wasn't much of a loss. We've never really gotten along very well, as anyone could tell you. Fred and George often tease me about liking her, which is completely the opposite. At my age, if I like a girl, I don't pretend to hate her.
On the contrary, Malfoy was actually somewhat civil to us all. He continued to press Harry's patience, however, which was expected of him, and send Snape after Hermione's perfect grades, but to me he was as a guardian angel is to his charge. And amidst his generous gestures towards me, he still managed the pretense that we were as unfriendly as we had always been.
It was during breaks from class, early mornings, and late evenings that he showered me with attention and gifts. It did not even seem to anger or shock him that I had yet to hold up my end of our little bargain. Supposedly the little things he gave me were those I had been lacking in his life until now, but they were all a bunch of silly toys I could have done without. However, as was usual with any Malfoy, the trinkets he lavished upon me were without any doubt expensive.
After lunch on a Thursday, he cornered me in a secluded corridor with glittering eyes.
"I've brought you something," he said, his hand submerged in the pocket of his robes. "I've been working on it for some time now, with help from Professor Flitwick and a seventh year Ravenclaw girl." He produced a small black box with a velvet, blood-red ribbon fastened around its lid and handed it to me without another word.
Still not used to this gentle, innocent side of Malfoy, I studied it cautiously for a long and silent moment before he huffed out his breath and rolled his eyes.
"Come off it, Ron, I'm not going to curse you," he scoffed. "Just open it, would you?" So I opened the weighted box wordlessly and took out-
"A-a snowglobe?" It was, indeed, a snowglobe-one of those Muggle novelty glass domes with a tiny scene inside that, when shaken, produced the effect of snow drifting lazily onto Muggles skating on a frozen lake or something equally as ridiculous-and the tiny town within was light and sparkling, with tiny snowflakes falling onto the quiet village and Muggles strolling the streets. And then I noticed that the minute people within were actually moving and interacting.
"An enchanted snowglobe," Malfoy corrected me, looking quite pleased with himself. Careful not to disturb the tranquil scene, I replaced the globe within its box and closed the lid. The light from inside continued to shine from an artificial sun set in the dome somewhere.
"It's lovely." He sparkling even more, terribly pleased that he had done something so marvelous for me. It would have been more marvelous had it been given to Harry, who was used to the Muggles' tendency for useless decorations and knick-knacks. "Er-Malfoy, I haven't exactly been given the opportunity to do what I'm expected in this deal..." His expression of pure joy did not shift in the least.
"That's all right. You'll make up for it later; I have complete faith in you."
An enormous weight seemed to have lifted from my shoulders. "Good." Then, a repressed idea flickered through my mind. "Ah-I did, actually, have a thought the other day while I was trying to sneak the answers to the Divination homework the other night." Malfoy beamed. "She's a Hufflepuff- cute girl-eyes like a pixie's and hair-I'd have to point her out to you at supper or something..."
His face fell. Apparently, I had missed the point of finding him the love he had been denied, because he put his hand on my shoulder as he shook his head.
"Weasley," he said, hesitating. "Ron." I was dumbfounded as he took his hand away again, bit his lip, and nearly whimpered into his hand. "I'm afraid you've got this a bit-confused."
Confused? How...?
"Y'see," he continued on, ignoring the puzzled look on my face, "When I said I wanted you to teach-to find-me love, I thought you knew..." His brow furrowed heavily, a pained look crossed his face. Then he scowled. "Oh, Weasley-You honestly can't tell me that you've never seen the way I look at- " Again, he paused, this time glancing nervously around before finishing smoothly, "-at Harry?"
Though this caught me as a very gauche statement to have been uttered by a Malfoy, I was not totally surprised by it. Truly I had not seen the way he claimed he looked at Harry, but it did make sense that Draco would be taken by him. He was, after all, sought after by my only sister and that nuisance Colin Creevey; he, indeed, was near the top of the class and had earned more points for Gryffendor than anyone else in at least a century. In fact, now that the thought had been introduced to my mind, he did have those piercing green eyes and such perfect pale skin...
"I see."
If I hadn't known any better, I would have said that Malfoy's world had just collapsed onto itself in his mind. He drew himself away from me- apparently he thought that I was some sort of homophobe-and so, without thinking, I reached over and pulled him into an awkward hug. Awkward because of the nature of the gesture, as opposed to me being worried I would be the newest object of his affections, but after a moment it became a very natural sort of thing for us, as though we should have thought to exchange an embrace sooner.
"Thanks," he whispered, and we pulled away enough for me to see the tears trickle from the corner of his eye. With a weak smile, he turned away, wiping his eyes, and disappeared around the corner.
***
