Disclaimer: I don't own these characters; JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Warner Brothers, etc does. I'm not making any money off of this. Don't sue me, you won't get much.
"Weasley, I know you probably can't even afford a damn to give, but listen"
It wasn't a good way to start this conversation. I didn't even want to be here, at this snooty pub, having drinks with the bastard who once again screwed up my life.
It had been a year and a couple months since Harry had finally put an end to You-Know-Who. Everything was perfect. No more camping in the middle of nowhere with nothing to eat, Hermione and I were together and really happy, and Harry was finally sorting his life out (armed with the knowledge that he would most likely live to see the age of thirty). The only snag in this was the fact that, once again, Harry and my sister had broken up. They told me it was mutual; Ginny said Harry was different since the war, and she wanted to play Quidditch with this team in the States that had signed her, and Harry said he'd rather be with a bloke. I wouldn't have a problem if it was just that he was gay. My whole family's been having questions about Charlie's "local friends" for years. It was whose arms he had fallen into not long after he broke up with my sister.
Draco Malfoy. Draco sodding Malfoy. The same git who had harassed us mercilessly during our years at Hogwarts. The same prat who mocked my family and Hermione's heritage. The same bastard who took the Dark Mark – I don't care about why – and nearly got us killed in the Battle at Hogwarts. That arrogant prick was now the boyfriend of my best friend, and it was not pretty when Harry told me. Hermione took it well, I guess, considering she was tortured in his parent's house. I don't forgive as easily, however, and the ensuing fight left it so that Harry and I weren't speaking.
That's why the eagle owl showed up at my house bearing an invitation to this little meet-up. I tried to get Pig to attack it but he's useless. I had no interest in meeting Malfoy at a pub to hash things out with him. All I wanted was my best friend to come to his senses and date a nice, respectable bloke who didn't make our lives Hell. It was Hermione who convinced me in the end. (The threat of withheld sex is one to take seriously, especially since I'd just started having it.) That's how I wound up here, at a pub where even the waiters looked down on me and how I look, trying to fix my friendship through the last person on Earth I want to be talking to.
"Where's the menu, Malfoy? You're buying, I'm starved, and I am not speaking to you on an empty stomach." I said, praying for this whole thing to be over quickly.
A silent gesture to a waiter and suddenly two menus appeared on the table. There was nothing but silence between us as I decided on what ridiculously expensive dish I was going to make Malfoy buy. I did notice that his fingernails drummed against the table impatiently. 'Good, let him wait.' I thought to myself viciously. When the waiter returned, I ordered a steak that the server clearly knew I couldn't afford. He looked at Malfoy questioningly, and Malfoy just barely nodded before ordering a bottle of scotch and two glasses.
The bottle and glasses appeared immediately, and Malfoy poured us each a glass. He raised his and offered me what I'm sure he thought was a winning smile. "To… Harry." He said, nodding his head to me, "The one person to whom we both agree deserves a toast. And the real reason we're here"
"To Harry." I repeated, taking my glass and sipping from in it. Truth be told, I had never had scotch before; when I went out I preferred a good pint of ale. It wasn't bad though, and I took another swig. "So Malfoy, what made you dismount that high horse you've been riding and invite me for drinks? This definitely seems like Harry's idea."
"Actually, the idea was mine," he replied, not rising to my bait. (Damn.) "Harry's furious with you. He's been moping around his flat, he won't mention your name, all the pictures he has of you are turned around. He's hurting, badly. I hate seeing him like this, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. You would do the same if it were he and Granger fighting."
"The difference is that I love Hermione and have done for a long time. I would do anything to make her happy. Also she and Harry have never hated each other," I replied, narrowing my eyes. "What's in it for you? I'm not swallowing my pride just so you can get laid."
Malfoy was quiet for a long moment before he downed his scotch and looked me in the eye. It was a little unnerving. "No teenage boy obsesses over someone without something more going on inside. I paid no attention to anyone but Harry Potter from the moment he spurned me until the day You-Know-Who told me to kill Dumbledore. Even then, he was all I thought of aside from keeping my family alive. I hated him, so deeply, for what seems like such an insignificant thing. There were many people at school who wanted nothing to do with me. Why was it that I hated Harry so much?"
"Because you're an arse."
"Because," he said slowly, "as deeply as I hated him, I loved him even more. I didn't know why it hurt so much for him to turn me away. I didn't understand until I heard he was with that Chang girl. The jealousy nearly ate me alive. I've loved him for a long time, possibly longer than you've loved Granger." I opened my mouth to argue, but he kept going. "I'm not saying how you feel for your girlfriend isn't real or strong or anything like that. I'm just saying I've had a long time to love Harry unrequitedly. Now that I have him, I'm going to do everything I can to make him the happiest man alive. If I have to start by buying you dinner and drinks and letting you tell me all the things that are wrong with me, so be it."
Well that stumped me. Where's the satisfaction in telling Malfoy he's a git if he's completely ready and expecting it? "…You say really love Harry then? How am I supposed to believe you?"
"I'll have to ask for your indulgence there, because that's something only time will show." He refilled his glass as the waiter returned with my steak. "I assure you there will be plenty of time for me to prove it. I don't intend to leave… I was going to say any time soon, but I don't plan on ever leaving Harry."
I nodded and took a bite of the steak. (I hated that it was the most delicious thing I had ever eaten.) He had a point. It's not like I could ask him to perform some sort of crazy stunt to prove it. We weren't in school anymore. It was tempting, though.
"Okay Malfoy, I'm going to make a few demands of you. Nothing huge to you, maybe, but it will mean a lot to me, and prove that you really do care for Harry." I said in between mouthfuls. His eyes were fixed on my mouth and his face had the same expression as Hermione's whenever we ate together.
"Name them," he said, clearly trying to sound brave.
"First, my name is Ron. My girlfriend's name is Hermione. You're to call us that from now on. No rude nicknames, and it should go without saying that the word 'mudblood' should never leave your mouth again." I paused, and he nodded for me to go on. "Second, Harry, Hermione, and I used to have a potluck dinner over each other's places every Friday before you came into the picture. You're to attend those and bring along something that we with common, non-pureblood stomachs can eat. I like treacle tart. It can't be made by a house elf, because Hermione's against that. And third," Okay, the temptation was too much… "you're to stand and loudly announce to this entire pub that your name is Draco Malfoy and you're an amazing bouncing ferret."
"…Really?" Malfoy asked, deadpanned. "That was nearly five years ago."
"Really. It's still hilarious." I replied, smirking.
"It's my most humiliating memory."
"And if you really love Harry, you'll swallow your pride and do it."
To his credit, he only hesitated for a second, long enough to take another deep swig of scotch. The chair scraped loudly in what I'm sure was an undignified manner, and he cleared his throat. "Attention please?" He called out in a clear, but wavering, voice. "My name is Draco Malfoy, and I am an amazing bouncing ferret!"
I couldn't help but grin as he sat down while the entire place stared at him confusedly. "Well done there… Draco." I said. "I give you my permission to prove to me that you're not a completely useless prat."
"Just a mostly useless prat… Ron?" he asked, smiling weakly.
"Jokes at your own expense will get you everywhere." I replied, raising my glass to him.
I finished my steak, and we finished the scotch, then we flooed to Harry's flat reasonably drunk. There was a tense moment as wide green eyes looked back and forth between me and Draco. Then there were arms around me and apologies from both of us and life went on.
Harry and I finished Auror training. I saved up and took Hermione to the snooty pub to get steak propose to her, and somehow she accepted. And three years, two months, and four days after that first conversation, Harry and Draco got married. At the end of my best man speech, I had only one thing to say to Harry's new husband.
"You proved it."