He wouldn't care

by public static void

They have never liked each other, not even before they met. The prejudice of their fathers was passed down onto them, and when they were children neither questioned their word. Then, Ron found Draco Malfoy in Myrtle's bathroom.

Ron had not meant to go into the bathroom, but the quiet sobbing coming from it reminded him of that time, long ago, when he made Hermione cry and she took refuge in a bathroom only to be endangered by a troll. Ron would be lying if he said he never regretted it, and it was that emotion that led him into the haunted loo.

He half expected to be chased out by Myrtle or by the crying girl, but when he saw the man leaning against a sink his mind went blank.

"Malfoy?" he asked, holding his belly as he laughed. "The little Death Eater is crying. I can't wait to tell Harry of this."

His taunt went unnoticed as Malfoy's only actions were to wipe the tears from his face and stroll past Ron with his chin held high.

"Hey, Malfoy!" Ron kept on laughing. "Did your father die? Were you crying for that worthless worm?"

That made Draco stop, and Ron felt a wave of pride at making the Slytherin boy react. He was not surprised when Malfoy turned around with his hand raised, but the hairs on his neck stood up and he felt a shiver. He took out his wand and kept on smirking. Malfoy had laughed at him many times, and this was his chance to mock him and humiliate him.

"Would you care if my father died, Weasley?" Malfoy spoke in a somber voice filled with fear.

Ron hesitated at hearing Malfoy's words. No was the obvious answer but for some reason the way Malfoy spoke resonated through his bones and guilt sparked on his throat, burning as if he were the one who would cry.

"I would care if your father died because it would be one soldier less that I had to kill to appease a madman."

Agan, Malfoy's words left Ron speechless. His wand arm was getting heavier as if the thought of hexing the boy who was so obviously distressed weighed on his soul. He couldn't see himself blush, but he felt the warmth on his cheeks and ears.

"I'd rather my father died at your hands than at the hands of the Dark Lord," Malfoy whispered, lowering his wand before he went away with a vacant look in his eyes.

Ron had never felt that guilty. Not even when he made Hermione cry.

He relaxed against the nearby wall and thought about what just happened, replaying the scene in his mind, wondering at Ron's words.

If it were anyone else, Ron would try to fix it. But he was Malfoy and he was an enemy.

He didn't have to care.