For somebody that I used to know...
Ron Weasley not no idea what had possessed him to actually go through with this. It was completely and utterly stupid. Why hadn't Hermione stopped him? His dorm mates had, during a game of truth or dare, told him to go and take something for Snape's own cupboard. Ron wondered if that was where he stored his copies of the magazine play-wizard.
Everyone knew (or so rumour had it) that Snape's collection was covered in evil charms and spells to stop people from stealing. But then Ron remembered that Dobby, or had it been Neville?, had stolen Gilly Weed for Harry in the tri-wizard tournament. And if it had been Neville, then this couldn't be too hard.
'Bloody hell!' He whispered into the darkness as he walked into a wall. He hoped no one had set any of the Twin's stupid inventions on him and was currently watching - he would never live this down, especially if a bunch of Snape's spells attacked him.
'Fuck,' he froze as he thought he saw the outline of a person hunched on the floor. The last thing he wanted to be was caught sneaking around Slytherin at 4 bloody am. Did Snape actually made people guard this cupboard? If so, it had to be the place where he hid his play-wizard magazines.
For some reason, he moved towards the figure. If he had faced a cave full of spiders, he could deal with whoever this person was. Okay, maybe if he was his Mum he couldn't (he would have to explain what he was doing here) but then what would his Mum be doing in corridors of Hogwarts late at night... Ron realised he really needed to get some sleep soon.
'Hey, are you alright mate?' Ron had assumed that it was a male, a girl would have more sense than to sit in the middle of a corridor. They would have at least found a bathroom or brought along some chocolate. Maybe this one had chocolate.
At the same time, Ron bent down and laid a hand on what he thought would be the shoulder.
The head turned slowly and the moonlight from the windows shone off the hair.
Blond hair. Draco Malfoy.
Again Ron froze. Maybe this was worse than the spiders after all.
'What the hell, Weaselbee?' Draco swiftly moved out of Ron's grasp but stayed on the floor. His eyes were slightly red. Ron's conscience was confused, someone was crying so he should try to comfort them but it was Draco Malfoy so he shouldn't show care.
Why hadn't he just said truth in the first place? Then he wouldn't be having a great moral dilemma at four in the bloody morning.
'What about you?' As soon as it came out of Ron's mouth, he regretted it; Slytherin's usually have this funny habit of being around the Slytherin Dungeon.
Draco didn't even grant that question an answer and instead gave Ron a nasty, are-you-that-thick kind of look.
'Bloody hell!' Ron saw Draco's hand drifting to inside his robes and Ron doubted he was going to draw out chocolate. He had not even thought to bring his own wand while trawling around the corridors of Hogwarts in the very early morning - another reason why he was stupid and seriously needed to sleep.
He heard Draco draw a sharp breath as he tightly held the boy's forearm.
'I'm not-,' Ron started.
Draco had clenched his eyes shut and his teeth were gritted against each other. Tears welled in his cold eyes. He was in severe pain.
Even if it was Malfoy, Ron couldn't stand seeing someone in so much hurt. He gently opened his hand with the thin wrist in side.
'Bloody hell,' Ron whispered.
The Dark Mark.
Ron seemed to be hypnotised until Draco quickly withdrew his arm away.
'See,' Draco's hurt had turned to anger. His tone was sharp and forceful. 'I'm exactly what you thought I was. Go on then run to your Mummy and Dumble-fucking-dore and tell them all about evil, twisted little Draco Malfoy and-,'
Draco was cut short.
Ron had encased him in an awkward kind of hug. Ron could see the regret and agony in Draco's eyes and couldn't bare it; no one this age, his age deserved that. Draco had never really done anything against Ron, except when he called Hermione a 'mudblood' (now that was uncalled for) but every other time Ron had done things back.
Draco froze. He couldn't remember the last time he had been hugged.
Ron shuffled his position to sit next to Draco and placed a long, comforting arm around his shoulders.
'It's okay,' he murmured, but in all honestly he couldn't see how it was or would be. Dark marks tend not to go away that easily.
Draco gently placed his head on Ron's shoulder, still bewildered by this sign of compassion and care.
Held back tears were finally unleashed and carved trails in the blond's pale skin. Wetting Ron's shirt, yet he didn't mind. Ron knew he would stay like this until Draco felt he could cry no more or until proper morning arose and he thought people might see. Neither of the two boys would want to be seen like this. It was wrong... wasn't it?
He always knew he was going to lose that bet. And he might as well lose it for a good reason.