11. Brave and Break
AN: JaceDamian23, I'd love to say that this is for you... but it's actually just a coincidence ^^ You'll get it later on... I hope :P Well, enjoy – all of you enjoy ! – but you especially, 'kay :)
Draco made it a point to not be jealous. He tried to not be jealous—even when Ron grinned as he went downstairs to be in time to greet Harry. He needed to not be jealous. So he snuck back to his own room so that he could dress in silence.
He was just buttoning his dark blue, tight jeans, when Molly's voice called for him. He decided to keep the white shirt—the sex-shirt, and he inwardly smirked—on, and headed down, repeating to himself: do not be jealous.
"Goodmorning darling," greeted Molly, and he ignored how the happy chatter—coming from Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny—stilled as he entered, "there's a package for you. Breakfast's on the table."
"Thank you misses Weasley," he flopped down on the chair next to Ginny's, opposite to Ron, where a plate had been set for him.
He could feel Pothead, who was next to Ron, staring at him but ignored it, like a fine Malfoy, and buttered some toast. A small present was set on the table with his name on it in dark-green letters—he immediately realised who it was from and started grinning.
"Who's it from sweetheart?" Molly asked, looking over her shoulder as he ripped off the paper to reveal...
"Blaise," Draco smirked, taking the present in his hand as he bit down on his toast, "only he's daft enough to buy me a cellphone."
"That's nice dear," she came over with her frying pan, scooping bacon onto all of their plates, "is it your birthday?"
"No," Draco quickly glanced at the card that came with it, "but Blaise's weird that way."
She smiled and went back to the stove, starting on making breakfast for the others—who were probably still sleeping. As he poured himself a cup of tea, Draco read the instructions that came with the card, written in his best friend's shabby handwriting. He did as the note said, and not five seconds later Blaise's voice rang through the phone. Still smirking he said: "you're such a twat, what is it? Letters too common for you Zabini?"
"Shut it," the other's voice commented, and Draco could hear the smirk—making him want to smile because he hadn't heard that voice in so long, "I'm being nice."
"No you're not," Draco chuckled, reaching over for the sugar, "you're trying to buy my love. I'm no whore, thank you very much."
"Although I must admit that I am rather horny at the moment, I'm not trying to force you into having sex Dray."
"Good, cause you're not getting any," he took a piece of bacon and swayed with his knife as if Blaise could see him, "you should've bought me diamonds. They would've earned you a handjob."
He heard Blaise groan loudly—saw Molly's appalled look—and laughed aloud.
"You are such a tease!"
"What can I say? You bought me a phone, rich bastard."
"It's my way of saying sorry," Blaise suddenly sounded very serious, but I ignore it and eat more toast, "please forgive me."
"That depends," Draco pulled his legs up to his chest, "what are you saying sorry for?"
"Because I wasn't there for you," a small pause, "I should've been there when..."
Draco interrupted him, voice hard because it still hurts.
"My parents died Blaise, unless you can resurrect people there's not much you could've done," he tried to sound matter-of-factly but knew Blaise would know better.
"But I wanted to be there to..."
No. It still hurts.
"Stop whining," he snapped, irritated, because dammit, take a hint, I don't want to go through this, "contrary to popular believes Dumbledore didn't dump me in an alley somewhere. I get fed on descent timings and I have my own bed. I'm okay Blaise, I don't need you for that."
"But I..."
"No," he glared at the phone and Blaise stilled immediately—he could hear the boy move on his bed—and he saw Harry and Hermione exchange looks from the corner of his eye. Instead he focused on which marmalade to chose, "dammit Blaise! You're my friend because you have no mercy. Don't go weak on me now. You're the only one that tells me to toughen up and kick ass because you know I can. Suck it up already."
"Fine," he heard a deep sigh, "I miss you Dray."
"Oh, I miss you too," he sipped from his cup of tea, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear so he could scoop up red marmalade with his knife, "and now stop being so gay."
"I am what I am Dray," Blaise chuckled.
"I know you are, but try to control your poofiness until you find a boy to fuck," he got another look from Molly and coughed, "you know, I was actually just having breakfast. Can I call you back later?"
"Sure, I'll find myself a boy to fuck," he could once more hear the smirk through Blaise's voice, and rolled his eyes.
"Blaise, I really did not need to know that," then he smiled, "have a good shag."
"Oh, I will," there was a chuckle and Draco grinned, "bye Love!"
"Yeah, yeah, bye," Draco put the phone away in his pocket and continued eating his toast in silence, pretending he didn't see Molly's mother-bird pose.
"Honestly mister Malfoy," he looked up, fake-curious eyes and she lightly shook her head, "you have to clean up your language love."
"What's wrong with my language?" He asked innocently and bit down into his toast.
She sighed.
"All those indecent words you use—talking to your friends, nonetheless!" She fixed him a look that clearly stated she expected him to start talking Shakespearian English and call people my lady and good sir.
"But I behaved," Draco protested—Ginny snickered softly, "I didn't use any bad words this time!"
"Darling, you used the f-word multiple times," she stated tiredly.
"The f-word," he frowned, "oh, you mean fuck?"
"Oh mister Malfoy," she glared at him and threw her towel onto the counter, "you're just insufferable!"
With that she left—but not before sighing one more time as Draco called: "is fuck the f-word or not?"
He inwardly smiled happily as he heard her go upstairs—she was just too much fun when she was annoyed—and dipped a slice of toast in his egg-yolk.
Suddenly he noticed how silent the kitchen was. He looked up and noticed everyone was staring at him—Granger and Potter looked pissed, and Ginny was smiling at his... shirt?
"What're you looking at Weaslette?" He demanded with a frown.
"I like your shirt," she reached out to touch it, but when she saw his glare she reconsidered, "where did you get it?"
"It was my father's," he replied in monotone, stirring his tea as he added another sugar, "I have no idea where he got it. And it's a bit too late to ask I guess."
"Your father has very..." she started but Draco snapped.
"Not a word. I know what you're going to say, don't."
"I was going to say he had good taste," she grinned.
"No you weren't," Draco looked at her accusingly, "you were going to say he had gay taste."
"Perhaps," she chuckled, "but that doesn't matter—the shirt looks very good on blondes."
"Stop flirting with me Weaslette," Draco drank some of his tea and pointed his toast at her, "you can't have me anyway."
"Don't flatter yourself," she reverted her eyes as if contradicting her own words—Draco smirked.
"I don't have to, you do that for me."
"You're imagining things!" She stated hot-headedly.
"If I am than why are you blushing?" He asked—but at that exact moment her rescue came in the form of two oldest brothers.
"Goodmorning," Charlie entered the kitchen in his worn-down jeans and tee, and he waved at Harry, "heya Harry."
Ginny immediately looked up at them instead, avoiding Hermione's cautious eye—Ron looked a bit angry. Harry smiled at the brothers and ignored Draco.
"Hey Harry," Bill followed immediately after, flopping down next to Draco after he'd stomped Harry's shoulder in a friendly fashion. As always his hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and he was wearing jeans like his brother, though with a red pullover.
"Wait a minute," Charlie frowned, flopping onto the chair next to Ron's, opposite Bill's, "why do you get to sit next to Draco?"
"Because I was first to notice he's half-naked," Draco's eyes widened and he turned to the bickering brothers, "besides, I have dibs on the Draco-chair."
"I'm not half-naked," Draco growled, "and what the fuck is the Draco-chair?"
"The one next to yours," Charlie took a piece of toast from the stack, "and your shoulder is sorta showing."
The blonde hastily pulled up his t-shirt a bit, but it was no use, as the other sleeve fell down to reveal his shoulder instead.
"What happened to those shorts you used to wear," Bill teased, "they were very amusing."
"I was sick of you guys ogling me all the time," the blonde said with a fake-sigh, "who knows—you might suddenly decide to molest my poor body and then what would I do?"
"Behave mister Malfoy! So early and you're already frisky!" Charlie mocked.
"Did you shower this morning?" Bill suddenly asked, completely out-of-the-blue, "'cause you smell like sex."
"I do not!" Draco's mouth opened in outrage, and he flung his piece of toast at the older redhead—it seemed that this had become a frequent joke between the three of them, and he just couldn't resisit—he could hear Ginny giggling softly as Bill ducked and the piece hit the wall instead.
"You do actually," she smirked.
"How would you know," he glared at her, "you don't even know what sex smells like."
"I've been to your room," she snapped back, "and since you shag like rabbits I am now aware of what sex smells like."
Charlie gulped down his coffee and added: "it smells like you."
"How dare you assume I had sex," Draco took another piece of toast, buttering it evenly, "I'm completely innocent."
Bill snorted. Charlie opened his mouth to talk when Molly's angry voice suddenly called: "GINNY! Where are you!" They heard her come down the stairs and Ginny looked at Hermione in fright, as if the bushy brunette knew what her mum wanted, "these better not be yours!"
Molly entered the kitchen, holding something in front of her as if it was toxic—her arm outstretched completely—her free hand was holding her wand and it was pointing at the object.
She was holding the black, sticky, oh fuck!, stockings and garters. The sex-stocking-and-garters. Which had gotten... dirty during Draco and Ron's ministrations. Draco instantly started laughing, not being able to contain himself—he could see Ron's face getting red from the corner of his eye—and everyone stared at him, Molly included.
"Mister Malfoy, what..." realisation downed on her and her eyes widened, "oh Merlin," her wand emitted a blue glow and the stocking disappeared, "they're yours!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Draco swore, throwing his hands up in defeat, "seriously I don't..." he saw that she wasn't buying it and sighed, "okay fine, they're mine."
"You wear garters?" Both Pothead and Charlie said at the same time—though in a completely different tone.
"Sex-garters!" Molly shrieked, before Draco could answer.
"Not sex-garters," Draco objected, now focussing back on the redheaded woman, "I didn't... well I mean..."
"You have sex in garters," Bill groaned and Draco glared at him, "damn you!"
"I do not!" He lied, and Molly put her hand in her hip.
"Well I can assure you the stain won't come out that easily mister Malfoy," she bit angrily.
"No, no, you don't understand," Draco shook his head helplessly, turning to her again, "I didn't throw them in the hamper! I was going to burn them, seriously, I don't need them!"
"It would be a waste to throw them out Love," her tone softened, now just scolding at the idea of burning expensive lingerie, "you should keep them if you like wearing them."
He heard Potter laugh but ignored it.
"I don't like wearing them—it was a one time only thing," he said defensively.
"Someone must've liked you wearing them, if they made your lover co—" Bill started but Draco snapped at him.
"Shaddup, you're not helping here!"
"I'll just wash them," misses Weasley said and she turned to the hallway, deciding that anyways she should be happy they hadn't been Ginny's.
"No wait!" But she'd left already. Draco cursed, dammit, stupid garters! "Ugh."
"Oh don't fret," Bill patted his shoulder, "you'll see your beloved garters back soon enough."
"Shut up," Draco glared, slapping the hand away, "I never want to see those wretched things again."
"Was the sex that bad?" Charlie teased.
"Poor Draco," Bill dropped in.
"No," the blonde stood, taking his plate, "the sex was really good and not a word cause you're not getting any. I actually wonder what makes you think I need to be involved in your conversations. You have a fine thing going between you—go forth and indulge yourselves with some incestuous behaviour."
Charlie laughed, though his cheeks reddened slightly as he saw Bill smirk.
"Oh, and if you do," he whipped his plate clean, and set it in the sink, "let me know if it's true what they say."
"What do they say?" Bill asked curiously.
Draco headed out the door, smirking: "that incest is best when brothers say: 'YES!'"
He could hear them laughing all the way upstairs, and if I just pretend that not being able to touch that red hair doesn't hurt I'll be okay.
--
"Misses Weasley?" Draco opened the door to the laundry-room, finding the oldest Weaslette on her knees in front of the washing machine.
"What is it dear?" She didn't even look up, her voice chipper as always.
Draco nervously shifted, and sat himself on one of the machines in the room—what is it? Why am I here?
"I..." he began, then coughed when he found he didn't know what to say.
She turned to him in question, and smiled as if he was someone she cared deeply for—someone she hadn't seen in so long, someone she'd missed. He swallowed thickly.
"It's okay love," she turned back to her work, emptying a hamper, "it'll be fine."
"How did you know I—" he started—because why is it so easy for her to feel what I feel?
"I'm a mother love," she laughed softly, "knowing what in-distress teenagers mean without them saying a thing is like a day job to me."
"My mother never..." he paused. Suddenly the room seemed cold and he shivered slightly—her gaze turned to him again, meeting his and she let out a delicate sigh, standing, "I..."
"Don't worry," she came over and wrapped her arms around him a warm hug—before he knew it he'd buried his face in her neck and he thought he might be crying but he couldn't know because he felt safe, "just give it some time," he nodded deftly, her arms keeping him closely pressed to her chest—and why did my mum never hold me like this? "He'll just need time."
Draco figured he could understand. When your friend is as shitty as Potter, no brains and no catch, he figured it was only natural you needed to warm them up to the idea of dating their arch nemesis. Not that that was in any way fair, of course—but all Draco wanted was Ron, so it'd have to do.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" He asked when they parted—she ruffled his hair sweetly.
"Well, if you could wake up Sirius," she asked as if she really didn't want to—as if she didn't want to make him do anything he didn't want to, "and maybe do some of the dishes I would..."
"Sure," he grinned widely, taking a shuddering breath nonetheless, proving that he's not okay and he's beginning to slowly break, "thank you," he turned away before she might notice his lack of strength, and left the room.
He took a deep breath before heading to Sirius' room—the last thing he wanted was to cry in front of the older man, who was so energetic, had been through so much, yet Draco had never once seen him weak.
Draco entered Sirius' room without knocking, finding the curtains drawn open, sun streaming in. Remus was still asleep, him and Sirius tightly cuddled together in a heap. He could see their faces, the only parts visible of their bodies, Remus' resting in the crock of Sirius' neck. The raven had his chin tucked on top of Remus' head, and they were both lost in a deep slumber. Pausing momentarily, Draco closed the door and went over to the oldest man's side of the bed, sitting down—not that it mattered anyways, since they were lying in the absolute middle.
He poked Sirius' back, making the man flinch away from the touch. When he poked again, Sirius groggily murmured: "neh, Remi, 'm too tired for another round."
And Draco wanted to laugh, but instead he sobbed.
Sirius turned around at the pathetic sound, alarming Remus who followed the man's movements, even in his sleep.
"Draco..." Sirius murmured, opening his eyes tiredly, "is something wrong?"
"No, I..." Draco drew a shuddering breath, his whole figure racking, "I was supposed to wake you and do the dishes and..."
"Draco, what's wrong?" Sirius untangled himself from the sheets and tried to sit up, now concerned about the blonde's wellbeing—the boy let out a sob and buried his eyes in his palms.
"I don't know," he started crying full out and Sirius bit his lip, "I just... don't know."
"Draco it's okay, come here," Sirius pushed the spread away, his own body still covered in a thin, white blanket, and pulled Draco into his arms. The man's torso was naked, but that didn't stop him from hugging the blonde tight into his chest, "lie down, come on," Remus mumbled something incoherently and he opened his eyes—not knowing what was going on, but he immediately made room for the blonde. Sirius pulled him in between their bodies and held him as he cried softly, "it's okay, we're here, don't you cry."
As soon as Remus was awake enough to understand that Draco was in their bed, crying, he turned onto his side to rub comforting circles onto the boy's back. He could see his tender frame shaking with tension, his sobs muffled somewhat.
"I'm so sorry," he apologised softly—because I'm not supposed to be this weak.
"Draco, listen to me," Sirius murmured into the blonde hair, and Draco nodded deftly, his tears leaving wet streaks on the man's chest, "your parents died and I know you're in pain but we care very deeply for you and we want you to be okay. I'm going to be here for you for as long as I possibly can be Draco," he kissed his forehead and Draco curled himself up into a ball, tears flowing harder—and I can feel their arms around me and it's okay but I'm broken, "but I don't ever want you to be sorry for crying. I know it's so shaming when you break down in front of someone, but I for one value the ability to show your weaknesses over the ability to always keep up appearances. There is no need to lie to the people that care for you Draco—it's not bad to cry."
And Draco realised he was right—when they curled him up into an even tighter embrace he wanted to smile and be okay again, because he wanted them to be okay as well and he wanted to tell them he was fine and it was all good, but I can't. Because even if knowing they cared for him felt good—they're not dad. And their hugs aren't his and neither are their kisses to my forehead. And I want to kill whoever did this to me—he would sell his soul to sleep well at night.
AN: Gosh, I'm so sorry about the incest thing. While writing I was just reminded of the FF thing (Incest is best when brothers say: "YES!") it was too good to resist.
I am so not getting enough reviews for this thing... I'm working my ass off here ! As for me not liking Harry right now – it's just cause he's making it hard for Dray and Ron to shag, that's all ^^
As you guys have noticed, the 'new' character is Blaise – even if right now he comes in the form of a phone, he's definitely smexy enough to pull it off. No hating my Blaise (if you do, feel free to tell me why) cause I made him gay and flamboyant, and he's staying that way !
I probably should've dubbed this fic 'it's a gay world we live in' or something :P Would've been more appropriate, ah... but whatever ^^ review please *pats head*