A/N:
*Chapter first posted 29-06-2012; Edited 02-07-2012.
So I first posted this a little too eagerly. I'm swamped at work and I knew I was to be MIA all weekend what with the Pride Scotia festivities so I wanted to get it posted rather than make you lovely people wait forever for it.
However, I'm seriously regretting this now. I've decided to rework it and split it in half. This is therefore the reworked 1st half of Chapter 10...
Warnings:
Will be HPDM, will contain violence, strong language, and various other adult themes. I would recommend that you be of age in your resident country to read this story.
Disclaimer:
I don't own these characters or this world. These ramblings make me no profit. I am prone to bribery in the form of reviews and tiffin.
Harry scrunched up his eyes to block out the light creeping in through the closed drapes. His mouth tasted like something had crawled into it and died, and the impatient knocking he somehow couldn't escape confirmed his suspicions about what had woken him.
"What?" He grumbled, barely loud enough to be heard through his heavy bedroom door; frankly part of him hoped he wasn't heard.
The door cracked open and Lucius stepped inside, "How are you feeling this morning?"
"It's morning?"
"Afraid so," Lucius came over and sat on the bed, reaching over to feel Harry's forehead.
Harry batted his hand away and rolled onto his face. His stomach was lurching.
"Ron?" He asked through the pillow.
"No, not yet. You know, I hate to admit it, but these insufferable red-heads have been good to you Harry. They've been good to me." Lucius paused as though grimacing at his own sentimentality, "There's a reasonable explanation for everything, I'm sure of it."
Harry was thankful that his face was hidden at that moment because he didn't think it would have held up to scrutiny. He felt like a shining neon beacon of guilt.
"I just need to talk to him. I need him to explain. Why would he do this to me? He must have a reason."
"You don't know he's done anything to you, Harry. Trust your friend." Lucius stood up to leave, "I'll let you get some more sleep. Don't worry about Astrid, I'll take care of her."
"Thanks," Harry mumbled.
Alone again, Harry rolled onto his back and stared at the plaster patterned ceiling. As he contemplated, he steadily stoked a rage in his chest, adding fuel to it with each new biting thought.
Time passed and the rage grew higher up his throat, he found that he didn't particularly want to be generous or rational anymore. He wanted to hate his friend.
He wanted to march down to the drawing room and tell Lucius exactly what kind of bastard Ron really was. He wanted Lucius to take action on that rage; to destroy the bonds and bridges that had been wrought over the years between his old family and his new one, because there could be no explanation worthy enough of forgiveness for this.
Instead, he heeded that last tiny flickering of hope for an alternative and lashed out his fury at the bedclothes.
"Where's your suit?"
"Suit?" Ron blanched.
Richard nodded slowly, bug eyed, attention flicking briefly to the clock behind Ron's head.
"I didn't realise it would be such a formal thing," Ron felt his face start to colour.
Richard impatiently grabbed Ron's sleeve and pulled him through the flat, "Come on, I might have something that will fit, we'll have to be quick though."
Ron padded from foot to foot as Richard rummaged through his closet and handed him various items. "These should work, I'll wait in the living room."
When Ron emerged Richard was wrapped up in his long overcoat, tapping his foot with impatience.
"Will I pass?"
Richard looked him over, "Much better. Now move, we're late!"
They hurried out to the sleet soaked street where Richard promptly hailed a taxi. Ron checked his watch: they still had five minutes to get to the Dragon's Hart before the party started, but he wasn't sure how far away that was - he'd yet to see the jewel in Draco's blossoming business empire.
"Can I ask you something?"
Richard gave him a distracted nod, Ron could tell he was still preoccupied with their lack of punctuality. "Sorry," he added quickly, "I just hate not being on time, go ahead, what is it?"
"Why did he call it 'The Dragon's Hart'?"
Richard shrugged, "It was his first independent business venture, he built it from the ground up, I guess he wanted to put his name on it. God knows what he'll call the new one. He's a sentimental fool really; don't tell him I said that."
Ron allowed himself a short laugh at that but it came out with a bitter twinge that he hadn't intended.
When the cab finally pulled up in front of a large ornately styled building Richard overpaid their fare in his haste to be rid of the thing.
Ron was already out on the pavement, gazing up at the impressive gothic stonework and the high arched windows. "This is it?"
"That's what the sign says isn't it?" Richard bundled them both indoors without ceremony.
Inside was all plush green carpet and warmly stained wood. Two curved staircases framed a long bar which stretched against the far wall. The staircases led to an upper floor where a great pewter dragon with wide-spread wings stood perched on the balcony rail. Its glittering black eyes seemed to survey the gathering below with interest.
Draco sat on a stool at the bar talking to the same elderly gentleman he had been at Asha's birthday party. He waved Ron and Richard over with a relaxed gesture.
"Ron, meet my old man! Jack Henderson, Ron Weasley," he introduced.
Ron took the extended hand and shook it firmly, trying to rid himself of the feeling that he was being probed by the elder man's sharp gaze.
"Welcome to the infamous Henderson-Hart staff Christmas party boy. I do hope you've brought your wits..."
Draco smiled at that, "Ron is an old friend from school Sir."
Henderson gave a choked laugh, "Ah, a relic from this mysterious past of yours." He leaned in closer to Ron, "You know sometimes I've suspected that he just sprouted from the ground, fully grown."
"Nope, we've known each other since we were about 11," Ron replied with an uneasy shrug of his shoulders, "Sir," he quickly added, because it seemed to be the thing to do. "Right git you were back then too," he teased Draco.
This caught Richard's interest and he leaned in, "Was he now? Do tell..."
"Oh look, Asha's here," Draco said.
Ron turned his head and took in a quick breath. He was mesmerised by the sight of her in her long black dress and her long black gloves. Her hair was swept back into a ponytail that hung all the way down her back, black gems strewn through it at random.
"Scrubs up well doesn't she?"
Ron thought he'd never heard anything as ridiculous in his whole life, Asha always looked good, she'd look good in a jute sack with duct tape for a belt he thought. But tonight...
"She's beautiful," he all but drooled.
Draco rolled his eyes at him and steered him towards her, pushing him the final few steps and leaving the two of them to catch up.
Two hours later the party was in full swing, people were dancing and mingling and generally having a good time; Ron and Draco had just taken up seats near the edge of the room when Ron felt something shift in the atmosphere. He turned just as almost everyone in the room drew mini plastic pistols on one another and an impromptu water-fight broke out. He turned back to Draco expecting some kind of reaction, but his friend barely batted an eyelid and said simply, "Give them another hour or so, then you'll really see something."
Ron blew out a long breath, "You definitely know how to hold a decent shindig, I'll give you that."
"Oh come now, this old thing could hardly hold a candle to a traditional Weasley Christmas," Draco smiled, "When do the red-heads assemble anyway? You're not missing some sort of mass family gathering on my account are you?"
"No, no, not until Christmas Day itself - thank Merlin!"
Draco looked at him strangely.
"When you have sixteen nieces and nephews who've all inherited the Weasley mischief gene-"
"Sixteen! How the hell do you all fit into the burrow?"
Ron laughed.
"We don't, gave up on that one years ago. Lucius has far more room anyway."
Draco crossed his brow, "My father? You're spending Christmas at the Manor?" He asked sharply.
Ron bit his tongue, "Well, yes. It's sort of a tradition now to be honest. Look, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bring it up, I wasn't thinking."
Draco ignored him.
"And he's... okay with this?"
"He grumbles about being invaded by riff raff, but it's all talk really."
Draco looked torn, "Can I ask something?"
Ron nodded and gave his friend a curious look.
"Does it snow?"
"What do you mean?"
"During Christmas dinner, does it snow in the dining room?"
Ron raised an eyebrow and made it obvious that he thought Draco had lost his mind, "Um, no, can't say I've ever seen that."
It's Dad's favourite part of Christmas, or it used to be..." Draco said with a faraway look in his eyes before shaking himself off, "Anyway, enough of that," he said firmly and looked as though he were trying to fish out a new topic of conversation.
Ron hesitated and picked at the label of his beer bottle.
"Um," he started, "Can I ask you something?"
Draco nodded.
"You are okay with me... pursuing Asha... right? I mean, I assumed you'd say something if you weren't, but... I just wanted to... check." Ron's face was definitely scarlet by the end of this.
"Sure, why not." Draco answered easily, "Just so long as you don't do something stupid like run off and get married."
As Draco winked at him, Ron noticed an angry red line peeking up just slightly above his friend's collar. If he hadn't being trying to stare anywhere but Draco's face he wouldn't have even seen it, but the flippant words and the mark came together all of a sudden to make Ron's blood turn acidic in his veins.
"Don't you ever get bored of it?"
"Of what?" Draco sipped his soda and lime with an innocent expression.
"Of that," Ron jabbed a finger at his friend's neck.
Draco's eyes flicked with something unreadable before he seemed to squash it down. "Of sex? Nope, can't say I do."
"Of the meaninglessness of it all," Ron ground out, feeling frustrated by the deliberate ignorance.
"You mean, don't I ever just wanna settle down, get hitched, have a few kids?" Draco raised his eyebrows. "No, never," he said, looking down at his drink as he swirled it around in its glass. "Why, were you going to make me a proposition?" He asked with another wink.
"Can't you ever be serious?"
"Not about that, sorry to disappoint." Draco stood and gave an insincere smile before stalking off into the thick of the party.
The party finished with a bang. Literally. Ron's bones nearly jumped out of his skin and he was sat all the way across the street on a low stone wall in a sulk. He watched people stumble out of the building and laugh their way toward home. Those that passed him asked if he were feeling alright and he brushed them off with assurances that he'd just needed some air.
Eventually the final four exited together. Draco locked up while Richard put Mr Henderson in a cab. Asha spotted Ron and crossed over to greet him with open arms. He suspected she was quite drunk, but not obnoxiously so, and he forced a small smile for her.
They walked home in silence, Asha skipping ahead to swing around the lampposts. She may have been oblivious to the tension but Richard certainly wasn't. He looked between Draco and Ron with a frown, at one point it seemed as though he wanted to say something to Ron but Draco placed a hand on his arm and shook his head slightly.
When they finally arrived back at the flat Draco held Ron back.
"A word," he said. Richard and Asha shared a look before heading inside and shutting the door behind them.
"Sit," Draco pointed to the curved stone bench around the roof garden's fire-pit. Ron glared back at him but complied.
"I'm a grown man. I'll do what I want, when I want, and I won't apologise to you or anyone else for it," Draco said. His voice was stern, but his eyes betrayed his certainty. At least, they would have if Ron had been looking at them.
"Of course," Ron said quietly.
Neither of them spoke for some time, until the cold was biting at their toes and their teeth threatened to chatter.
Draco felt himself buckle under the weight of the silence and his friend's resigned posture. He sat himself down beside Ron, "My serious response to your question," Draco started, "There have been times when I've thought that maybe, I might be ready for that... to let someone in, you know?"
Ron turned his head but said nothing.
"But every time I tried, it just never felt... right," Draco continued, "And I really don't claim to know much about being in a relationship, but I do know that you shouldn't take someone's heart if you can't give them yours in return. Harry taught me that," he finished under his breath.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Draco rubbed his eyes, "I'm gonna catch some shut eye, I'll see you in the morning," he said as he stood and made for the door.
"You've always had his heart Draco."
"No," he contended, "I didn't."
Ron stood too, "How can you say that?"
"Because it's true. Goodnight Ron," Draco said firmly.
"You can't just say something like that and walk away!"
"I can and I am."
"But that's bullshit!"
Draco drew in a deep breath, "You're treading on really fucking thin ice Ron. Look, I know he was your best friend, but the fact remains that loving him nearly destroyed me.
"Frankly, in a perfect world, Harry and I never would have met, I'd have been born a muggle, and I'd be content for Cal and I to grow old together. But the world's not perfect, it is what it is, and we just have to get on with it. All I know is I don't want anyone to ever feel even a fraction of that kind of pain because of me."
"You're saying you didn't love him?"
"Are you even listening to me you numbskull? I'm not saying I didn't love Harry, I'm saying I wish I didn't. Maybe that's worse in your eyes, but it's how I feel, you can do what you want with it but it's the truth."
Draco wrenched open the flat's main door and disappeared inside, leaving it slightly ajar but not bothering to look back.
A/N:
*Chapter first posted 29-06-2012; Edited 02-07-2012.
Please forgive me for my 'after-the-horse-has-bolted' editing, I really do think the story will benefit from it though.
x X x
'Rora