In response to Fyre's Challenge; theme: Defenestration. Pairing choice: Draco/ Ron
Rejection
Hermione was excitedly narrating the plot of a mystery novel, detective stories being a small indulgence of hers. Her frizzy hair bounced along as her chin dipped and rose enthusiastically above the Gryffindor table in her narration.
"So anyway, he surmises that the murderer defenestrates Lord Ramkin and –" She begins with a tremor of orgasmic wonder in her tone
"Hermione . . . not all of us speak your English." Ginny protested, her red hair still slightly damp from the morning shower.
"Fenestra means window in Latin. Defenestrate means throwing someone out of the window." Ron mumbled listlessly, interrupting Hermione's mildly apologetic smile and her forming response.
Both girls turned to watch the lanky boy staring blankly into space, his porridge hardly touched. Hermione's mouth still gaped in surprise.
"Well . . ." She began, quite startled by her fellow prefect's sudden scholarly reply, "Yes."
Ginny's lips parted as if to say something when she turned suddenly as a hush spread from behind her like a heavy breeze. Her eyes hardened.
"Malfoy." She spat as a blond- haired, grey-eyed youth swept into the hall with furious grace.
"A bit grumpy isn't he?" She added, her tone clearly indicating that she wasn't too worried about it.
Hermione's nostrils flared but a satisfied smile curved her lips.
"Still sore about his father being sent to Azkaban." She remarked with cold humour and glanced at the Harry- lacking table.
"Do you know where Harry's gone to Ron?" She asked, flicking her eyes to the Malfoy- tailing eyes beneath flaming- red hair.
"Ron?" She repeated glancing at the Slytherin curiously from the corner of her eyes and turning back to her friend.
"Ron!" Ginny called, looking worriedly at his distant gaze.
The Gryffindor youth blinked and turned a confused expression to the two watching girls opposite him.
"H- huh?"
"You were staring into space." Hermione replied, brown eyes concerned.
"And Malfoy." Ginny added, not catching the wince from Hermione.
"I . . . huh? I . . ." Ron stammered, ears burning hotly as he frantically searched for some excuse.
"Are you blushing?" Ginny asked suspiciously, her right eyebrow cocked.
Hermione shot an unnoticed murderous look.
"Of course he's not." She almost snapped, "He's just worried about Harry. Like all of us." Hermione explained, eyes shifting nervously.
Ginny raised her brows in an expression of mild surprise.
"Yes. Harry. He's quite upset about Sirius." Ron agreed readily, lips twitching slightly.
"And the school year's coming to and end. He'll be trapped with his Aunt and Uncle again without anyone to comfort him." Hermione added, carefully avoiding the tension in Ron's face.
"Hmn . . ." Ginny hummed sceptically, her hazel eyes darting from her brother to the bushy- haired girl.
"I suppose." She murmured at last.
Hermione nodded curtly.
"We're all just worried." She muttered into her bowl and began to stir it moodily.
Ginny noted this with interest and turned back to her brother who watched his own bowl with a frown. Not the frown he usually had when practising reading the dregs in tea cups at home, but a more . . . softer kind of frown. Confused and . . . longing.
She looked on in interest when Ron picked up his spoon and shoved it half- heartedly into his porridge, his eyes slowly turning to fall upon a spot right above her left shoulder. Ginny turned, unable to resist, and followed her brother's gaze to a moping, blond- hair framed youth seated at the Slytherin table.
Behind her, Hermione too glanced at the Slytherin and turned back to watch her friend with a deep, worried frown.
Ron was worried. Of course, these days, who wasn't? You- know- who was still at large, his family had yet to heal completely from the damages caused by the only recently resolved tensions between the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore, as well as the attack on his father. Of course, the one worst off would be Harry. His ever-unlucky best friend had lost the one person who could embrace him as a father and a brother. And that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was that the feeling of inadequacy had deepened within him. Once again, he could find neither the words nor the courage to confront and console the dark- haired youth that he trusted and respected beyond measure. Hell, he didn't even have as much courage as Hermione did, even going as far as to shush her when she tried to bring the topic up.
So today as he stalked Harry on one of his solitary walks during lunch, up the Astronomy Tower this time, he willed the butterflies in his stomach to drop dead. He told himself fiercely that today he would be a friend and offer a shoulder for his broody friend to lean on, damn it!
Ron realised suddenly that he hadn't checked to see if the distance between Harry and him was still "safe". His frightened eyes peered ahead and his insides froze with dread as he noticed that barely three metres separated them. But Harry hadn't noticed. The ever-alert youth was that distracted. Before all this happened, Harry would've turned around ages ago, a warm, sincere smile on his pale pink lips. And why was he so worried about being found out anyway? He did want Harry to notice him didn't he? He'd have to.
Ron's jaw tightened and his eyes hardened with determination.
Harry stopped abruptly and Ron immediately turned about ready to dash down the stairs.
"Potter." A sneer; a haughty, vicious sneer.
Ron turned to look up and found that the speaker was blocked from view by the wall that turned on a corner. Harry himself was half- blocked by the wall, having barely rounded the corner.
"Malfoy." Harry responded curtly, eyes narrowing with a look of contempt so reminiscent of Snape's that it frightened Ron.
"You don't have professor McGonagall's dress to hide behind now." The obnoxious boy whispered dangerously.
"Funny. I believe it was you scrambling up Snape's robes in fright." Harry countered, right hand hovering above his pant pocket, fingers twitching.
Ron chewed his lip nervously, uncertain whether rushing to his best friend's aid would be a welcome move.
But Malfoy seemed more intent on hissing like a girl than duelling.
"Like I said Potter, I'll get you back for what you did to my father-" He began in a low, furious voice.
A cry of rage ripped from Harry's throat making Ron step back down the staircase a few steps. Harry had lunged forward, away from Ron's view. The sound of Malfoy being shoved bodily into the wall vibrated along it.
"You BASTARD!" Harry screamed.
Ron braced himself for Harry's temper. There was tense silent and then the sound of something sliding heavily to the ground.
Harry's voice was hoarse when he spoke next.
"I've got no time to play with you."
Silence.
"I'll try to grant you the satisfaction of dying out there." He added sounding weary and dragging steps indicating that he shifted away from the staircase landing and mounted another set of steps.
Ron heard something scrabbling and a furious grunt.
"I told you Potter! I told you you should've joined me!"
"This isn't about you Malfoy. It never was." Harry called wearily out from a distance, his steps echoing loudly up the staircase.
Ron listened to the ensuing silence, wishing he could watch that sickening ferret's expression now.
"You'll end up just like your parents Potter. Them and your precious godfather. That same sticky end-"
Ron inhaled sharply, fully- expecting Harry to scream again, shattering the uneasy silence as Malfoy paused, under the full force of Harry's enraged glare, Ron assumed.
Harry's hiss was like the sound of a sword, scraped along its sheath. The seething sound drew to an abrupt stop, a silence that punctuated the moment, filled the silence it created.
"Then I'll just be with the important people that matter won't I?" Harry spoke softly, bringing a lump in Ron's throat.
The Slytherin was silent. Steps continued to echo.
"Where do you think you're going! We haven't settled our score yet!" Malfoy snarled suddenly and the steps fell silent.
"There's nothing for us to settle. It's over. It's been fun playing with you but . . . I've grown up now. Go find someone else. "
"Harry Potter!" Draco yelled as the footsteps resumed.
"Goodbye Draco." Harry replied his voice and steps fading into the climbing distance.
For a few awkward, quiet moments both Malfoy and Ron stood there frozen in the bright afternoon glow streaming through the many windows, listening to Harry's steps growing fainter and fainter.
"Goodbye?" Malfoy muttered at last just as a surprised thought ran through Ron's mind.
'Draco?' Ron thought, blinking in confusion, stepping back and missing the step, stumbling with a horrifying, audible squeak of shoes on marble.
Ron only had time to struggle up to his feet when Draco appeared from around the corner, grey eyes furious and fair skin a frightful, vein- streaked pallor.
"I didn't- " Ron mumbled weakly.
Draco's fury was a cold and poisonous thing. When the blond- haired boy stepped forward, Ron stumbled back, shaken by the nervous, murderous glint in Draco's eyes, the twitch in his pale lip.
"How long were you standing there?" Draco demanded in a low, tremulous voice.
"O-only just-" Ron lied shakily and yelped when Draco charged down the stairs.
He felt the shorter youth drag him down the stairs to the landing below, petrified by fear and shocked at Malfoy's strength. As the tower blurred in his view, a change in the direction of their momentum reminded him to brace himself for the blow against the wall.
He cried out in shock when his tense back muscles were thrusted into unyielding, cold air. His eyes swivelled from the dizzying view of the blinding sky to the maddened eyes past the windows, spots of light marring his vision.
"No! Please!" Ron pleaded, panic nearly choking his words, his fingers frantically gripping the hands that held him suspended by the front of his robes.
"What did you hear?" Malfoy snapped, steely eyes laced with crimson.
"N-nothing." Ron assured breathless with fear.
"LIAR!" Draco yelled shoving his captive downwards.
"NO! Please . . . please . . ." Ron sobbed, body shivering in the distressingly unresisting air, too afraid that Draco would let him fall if he struggled.
Draco left him half- hanging out of the window, shaking and whimpering, the Slytherin's own breaths fast and hard.
"No one would ever know if you died here." Draco whispered coldly.
"No one would suspect it was defenestration, it'd just be a freak accident." He continued, drawing a shudder from his captive.
"Or suicide perhaps . . . you never know with Potter's crazy friends." Draco finished, shaking the boy for good measure.
The resultant cry was immensely satisfying.
"Harry would know!" Ron screamed in panic, hoping desperately that Harry would hear him.
Draco's smile vanished instantly, replaced with a dark expression.
"I want him to." Draco murmured, crazy eyes growing a little distant.
The words roused a hidden anger in Ron that overrode the mind- numbing fear in a wave of heated passion.
"YOU STUPID COWARD! Leave Harry ALONE! He's got a lot to handle as it is without you bugging him!" Ron yelled, not caring if Draco dropped him right now.
Draco's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Shut up, Weasel." He hissed warningly.
"You shut up, ferret." Ron shot back and roared suddenly as his arms tensed and he pulled violently on Draco's wrists.
Alarmed, Draco quickly pulled back, resisting the force that pulled him towards the open window. Ron rode the force, rising out of the window vengeance burning in his eyes. Even before Draco could muster the leverage to push the Gryffindor back where he thought the red- haired youth belonged, Ron had gripped the shorter youth's sides firmly, enjoying the shocked expression of pain that drained the bloodless skin further.
"Listen well. Harry doesn't have time to play with you anymore! I'll be your playmate if you like ferret. I'm always game for anything you can offer." Ron sneered into Draco's face, eyes glinting maliciously.
Draco managed a derisive snort despite the pain of the grip into his sensitive sides and the clear futility of his own grip biting into the taller youth's tensed arms.
"You think you're as good as Harry?" Draco mocked, a disdainful look in his grey eyes.
Ron was feeling the butterflies in his stomach again but he had ridden the tiger and there was no easy way of getting off. Instead, he had to keep the blond ferret straddled or get bitten in the essentials.
Ron hardened his tone and gnashed his teeth menacingly.
"You'll never imagine how good I am."
Draco stiffened in his grasp and swept his grey eyes about the serious, freckled face, the corner of his lips curling in amusement.
"So what will you do to me now Ron? I'm completely at your mercy aren't I?" Draco teased, his grin vicious.
The pale youth leaned forward on tiptoe, drawing his mocking lips up to Ron's ear.
"Or haven't you got the balls freckle freak?" He whispered hotly, lips brushing a crimson earlobe as it receded down the burning ear, dropping almost to the flushed nape of the taller youth.
Fury struck Ron's chest like an unexpected arrow and the fire that roared through his veins made his fingers curl even deeper into the Slytherin's tender flesh. Draco flinched but his cold expression shifted no more.
"Just try me." Ron hissed and spat on the floor beside their tense forms, releasing his hold on the Slytherin.
Draco watched him with emotionless eyes that sparkled in its depths with a curious light, intent upon him. Ron's eyebrows knotted further.
"You sick bastard." He swore, turning furiously and stomping down the stairs leading down into the welcome exit.
But Ron was keenly aware of the eyes that watched him, lay on the back of his robes, tailing him as he made his way down. Long after Draco had vanished from view, he could still feel the eyes that caught and held his image. The mysterious concentration that killed all emotions in their depths.
He wondered what Draco had planned.
He wondered what Draco had planned.
It had been an impressive (he felt) act of bravado standing up to the boy and now he had done so, he could feel the tingle of apprehension and perverse anticipation at every corner. Somewhere sometime, Draco was going to pounce on him, he was sure of it.
And he'd be damned if he was going to let some ferret best him. Well, he'd be cursed really, or jinxed. His eyes strayed to the sulky, pouty look on the human ferret and intensified his gaze to a glare.
It was perfect now. He wasn't hiding behind Harry's back and he was being a good friend without needing to get into tricky heart to heart by discreetly covering his best friend's back. Draco was even noticing him, although, not as much as Ron was noticing the Slytherin. (But why look at the glass half- empty.)
There was only one flaw in this wonderful plan of Ron's and her recalled that moment when that intense light from deep inside Draco's stormy eyes had provoked him into swearing.
'Sick Bastard' Ron had called him. Sick bastard.
Subconsciously, Ron's hand slipped down beneath the table and barely touched the generous bulge swelling beneath his robes.
Just thinking about being at the mercy of Draco, hanging out of the window, crotch pressed tightly into the blond youth, it got him all excited again. Just like then.
Sick bastard.
Who knew defenestration would turn him on so? He wondered briefly what would have happened had Draco let go and in the midst of fantasy, stroked the hungry swelling and at that precise, perfect moment, Draco looked up and sneered.
The End