The Malfoy family sits around the dimly lit table, eating in silence as usual.
"Draco," says Lucius Malfoy, breaking the silence. "I have a proposition."
Draco glances up.
"As I understand, the Yule Ball is approaching."
"Yes, it is," he says dubiously.
"Do you have a date yet?"
"No."
"Good," says Lucius. Draco sighs to himself. He can see where this is going.
"I'd like you to ask Daphne Greengrass to it."
Draco doesn't let his surprise show, in fact, he already assumed his father would concoct something for the event.
"Daphne Greengrass?"
"Yes," says Lucius. "There's a meeting with some Death Eaters next week with the Dark Lord's. The Greengrass family will be there, and I want to be on their good side. Daphne's father recently got promoted within the Ministry to head of department so they hold a crucial position, and it would help if I had some concrete connections to them. So, what do you say?"
Draco chews on a carrot end to fill the silence as he considers the proposition. "I don't know, I don't think she wants to go with me to it," he says.
"I thought you two were friends," says Narcissa, crossing her knife and fork.
"Yeah, we are. I just don't know if us coupling up is a good idea."
"It would help us immensely, Draco," says Lucius. "You don't need to have feelings for each other, that sort of thing is trivial. People from our backgrounds date and marry to form connections, not for love." He smiles contritely at his wife. "It was the same for me and your mother, an arranged marriage. Luckily we fell in love."
"Eventually," Narcissa says. She looks back at Draco. "It might sound harsh, dear, but it's the real world," she says. "You weren't planning on inviting anyone else to the Yule Ball, were you? Are there any other nice young ladies that have caught your eye?"
"No."
"You have no reason not to invite Daphne, then," Lucius, desperation rather than triumphance lining his voice. Draco resists the urge to roll his eyes as he takes another large bite of steak.
"Your father got her a lovely necklace you can give to her," Narcissa says, signalling over to one of the staff. "It would be a shame to have gone to all that trouble for nothing."
The waiter presents Draco with a dainty box, which he opens in silence to reveal an expensive-looking amber gemstone attached to a small chain.
"Ok," he says.
"Ok?"
"I'll do it," Draco says emotionlessly.
"Good lad," nods Lucius. "Make sure to give it to her. Tomorrow, if possible."
"Keep things with her cordial and classy," Narcissa says, raising her eyebrows pointedly. "You want to make a good impression. Don't do anything that would make her think you're disreputable."
"Make sure to have protected sex when you get round to it," Lucius says.
"Dad," Draco groans, covering his hands with his face. "Why are we even talking about this?"
"Don't, Lucius, you're embarrassing him," Narcissa chuckles. "But Draco, your father makes a good point. I will not be happy if you turn up in nine months with a baby."
"Yeah, okay, I get it," he says.
"Excellent," Lucius says with a relieved smile. "Let's raise a glass to that."
"She hasn't even said yes yet," Draco grumbles under his breath, grudgingly raising his glass.
"Cheers," smiles Narcissa, raising her wine glass.
"Cheers," the other two echo.
Draco gulps down his juice. The Yule Ball seems to be sorted. He is going with Daphne Greengrass, assuming she agrees. It's not a terrible arrangement, there are definitely worse people he could be going with. But there are definitely people he'd prefer to be going with. Well, person.
He opens the small box containing the necklace for a second time, Daphne's gift, and all he can think is how beautiful it would look around Ron's neck.
Sunday 24th November, exactly a week until the Yule Ball. Draco walks up to the Slytherin Common room after dinner, handling the small box containing Daphne's necklace.
He's known Daphne since they arrived as first years and they've always got on well enough. It seems ironic that the highlight of his week is meeting someone in secret while being as good as forced to parade around with someone else. Maybe less ironic and more of a cruel joke. But Ron said no strings attached, he knows that. They wouldn't want to dance with him, even if by some miracle they could.
No sex, no romance, no being friends, nothing long-term.
He said those words a month ago now and they don't seem to have any intention of stopping their regular evening meetups. Ron is hard to size up; Draco has zero bearing on how they feel towards him; they're a natural blusher and they get embarrassed easily, so it's virtually impossible for him to distinguish between their feelings.
Every time, Ron stays a bit longer. They chat about their days; Draco brushes a hand through Ron's hair or strokes his cheek and Ron just blushes and tries to hide a smile. It's utterly adorable, Draco thinks, smiling at the reminder as he flops down next to Blaise on one of the sofas.
He doesn't want to admit to himself that it's beyond lust, even when he's no longer satisfied when they just make out for half an hour. He wants to make them laugh, to ask how they are, to hold them. He can't bear to acknowledge the fact that he falls asleep pretending Ron is lying beside him, that he can't take his eyes off them in lessons, and that he wants so much more than their current arrangement.
Ron has certainly served their purpose: the evenings when Draco chokes himself with his belt are slowly becoming more sporadic and starting to phase out completely. And over the last few weeks, a tiny droplet of guilt has been forming, guilt for using Ron with no regard for them at all.
He no longer feels nothing, and it scares him.
"I'm going to ask Daphne tonight," Draco tells Blaise as they sit separated from the group.
"Is this about the Yule Ball?" replies Blaise, rocking from side to side slightly. Music blares out from the other end of the Common room, a CD player surrounded by the other sixth year Slytherins.
"Yeah," says Draco. "My parents gave me a necklace to give her. Do you want to see it?"
Blaise nods absently, and Draco can tell his mind is somewhere else.
"What's the matter?" he says, watching them fidget in sporadic movements. She glares over at the crowd on the other end of the dormitory, talking excitedly and letting out abrasive laughs every few seconds. Draco remembers that Blaise isn't the biggest fan of loud music, and the CD sounds like it's on full volume.
"Oi, Crabbe," Draco shouts without hesitation. He's got no time for any of them. As his only true friend, Blaise takes priority. "Turn that off."
Crabbe and a few others look over, disgruntled. "Why?" says Crabbe.
"Because I fucking said so."
"Don't be a killjoy," Pansy calls back, crossing her arms. "This is my favourite song."
Draco glares back. "It's doing my head in, turn it off."
With several mutterings, the music clicks off.
"Look," Draco says, returning to his conversation with Blaise as if nothing happened. "I'll show you now, Daphne isn't here yet."
He opens the box and shows Blaise the amber gemstone.
"This is for Daphne?" says Blaise.
"Yep."
"I didn't think you were interested in her."
"I'm not," he says. "My parents want to get in with her parents, and anyway, I've got to invite someone. What about you? Who are you going with?"
"I'm not going," Blaise says. "I've got permission to sit out this time."
"You don't look too sad about that one," Draco says.
"I can't say I miss being in a crowded hall with music drowning out the chance of any sensible conversation, or being stuck in tight dress robes all night, or drinking whatever disgusting concoction they create to dilute the wine. I can't dance either."
Draco raises his eyebrows. "Really?"
Blaise gives him a look back. "What do you mean 'really'? Why would I be able to dance?"
"You're good at most things," says Draco. "I assumed dancing would come along with the package."
"I'm good at academic tasks with a method and result. That doesn't encompass flailing around a hall with a random woman for three hours."
This makes Draco snort. "It wouldn't be a random woman. You could go with Millicent or Pansy as a friend."
"Why would I want to do that?"
"Because it's the tradition."
"Fuck the tradition," Blaise mutters, much to Draco's amusement.
"Bloody hell, I didn't know you were in a bring-down-society mood."
"Well, it's stupid," says Blaise. "I don't want to dance in ridiculous clothes to loud music I don't even like all night. Or attempt to dance, I should say."
Draco grins. "I've got to teach you sometime."
"To dance?"
"Yeah."
Blaise crosses their arms. "Absolutely not."
"I'm not a random woman though. It might be fun."
"It will certainly not be 'fun'."
"We could wear casual clothes, dance in absolute silence up in the dorm or with music on really low," says Draco, picturing the scene. "We could put some Bowie on, some Madonna, whatever you fancy. Come on, you can't tell me that doesn't sound like a good idea."
"Us dancing to Madonna in the dorm together alone?" Blaise snorts. "Are you going out of your way to get us homophobically abused?"
Draco laughs off the comment. "Look, it's only gay if it's gay."
Blaise glares at him. "You're starting to sound like Crabbe and Goyle. 'It's only gay if it's gay'? Give me strength."
This makes Draco let out a wheeze. "Blaise, oh my God, just fucking let me teach you how to dance. I promise I won't accidentally kiss you."
"You're really convincing me now," Blaise says, rolling their eyes. "And I'm not doing it because of that, I'm doing it because I don't enjoy dancing. With anyone, dick or otherwise."
Draco tries to contain his laughter as Daphne walks into the Common room with Millicent.
"Your girlfriend is here," Blaise whispers.
"Shut up, she's not my girlfriend."
"I'd hope so if you're teaching me how to dance in the dorm alone then accidentally kissing me."
Draco shoves her and gets up. "Fuck off and watch me prove you wrong."
"About what exactly?"
Draco rolls his eyes at Blaise's quizzical glare. "Watch," he whispers, throwing two fingers up at xem as gets up off the sofa.
"Go on then," Blaise snorts, watching Draco approach Daphne with his best charming smile.
All Draco can think about is Ron. Asking Ron to the Ball, giving Ron a necklace, watching Ron's face light up as they say yes, I'd love to. Dancing with Ron, laughing with Ron as he trips over Ron's feet, staring into Ron's eyes as they slow dance together.
~No romance.~
Draco brushes his thoughts to one side. Ron doesn't want to complicate things. They'll both be taking separate dates to the Ball, of course: even disregarding their rivalry, a same-sex couple attending the Ball is unheard of.
"Hi Daphne," says Draco, pushing his way through the others to reach her.
"Hey," she says.
"Draco, have you stopped being fucking boring and can I put the music back on?" Pansy interrupts.
He gives her the middle finger. "No." He wonders whether to make a scene and ask Daphne in front of everyone, mainly to get a reaction out of Blaise, but decides against it.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asks Daphne.
"Yeah, go on."
"Follow me." He brings her outside the Common room into the dimly lit corridor.
"Is this by any chance you asking me to the Yule Ball?" she says dryly.
"What the fuck, Daphne?" Draco says.
She laughs at his irritated look. "You'll have to be more subtle next time."
He glares at her, annoyed the element of surprise has been ruined. "Yeah, okay, no need to be like that." Draco takes out the box from his pocket, earning him a sigh of 'bloody hell'.
"Will you be my date to the Yule Ball?" Draco asks, opening the box. "You're not taking this seriously at all, are you?" he says as she makes a hiccuping laugh sound.
"No, sorry, ignore me," she says. "I would love to be your date. Very nice necklace, too."
"It's yours," says Draco handing it to her.
"Oh, thanks."
"Okay then," Draco says after a moment of silence. "That's all."
"Cool," says Daphne. "I'm looking forward to it."
"I'm wearing navy dress robes, by the way," Draco adds. "That's your warning."
Daphne lets out a loud laugh. "Draco bloody Malfoy telling me not to clash with his clothes, what next, flying pigs?"
Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm just letting you know."
"Thanks a lot."
When they go back into the Common room, the music has resumed, even louder this time. Just as Draco is about to complain, he notices the sofa where Blaise was sitting is empty.
"Where's Blaise?" he asks to the room. No one seems to know, so Draco goes up to the dormitory to look for them and as a good distraction to avoid any questions from Daphne's friends as she tells them about the proposal.
Sure enough, Blaise is sitting in its bed with a book. "Did she say yes?" he asks as Draco walks in.
"Yeah," says Draco, sitting himself cross-legged on the end of Blaise's bed.
"You don't look too pleased."
"I just wish..." Draco tails off, staring at the ceiling. He wishes it was Ron he would be spending the evening dancing with, and what's really tearing him up is not knowing if the feeling is reciprocated.
"You wish...?"
Draco sighs. He can't possibly explain this to Blaise without revealing too much. "It's doesn't matter."
"You wish you could take me to the Yule Ball instead," Blaise says, holding his hands to his heart. "How wonderful of you to suggest so, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass on this occasion."
Draco lets out a loud laugh. "Blaise, go fuck yourself, do you know how bloody ridiculous we'd look together?"
"Spare me the thought."
"Do you ever wish you could get into someone's head?" Draco asks after a few minutes more of silence. "Like, so you know what they're thinking. About you."
"Not really," says Blaise. "I'm not too compelled to know what my braindead classmates think of me."
"Not your classmates. Someone closer."
Blaise puts down his book. "You might as well tell me who this is about."
"Blaise," says Draco, waving his hand to encourage them on with the scenario.
"Ok, someone closer how? Like a family member, or a best friend?" They widen their eyes. "You want to know what I think of you. Well, I'd like you better if you spent some of your vast wealth on me for once."
Draco gives her a swift kick. "Oi, I always spend money on you."
"An example, please."
"I bought you loads of sweets on the train," he says. "Like, a ridiculous amount, pounds and pounds worth."
Blaise crosses her arms. "That was three months ago."
"Yeah, and?"
Draco runs a hand through his hair. "Anyway, stop distracting me. I'm not talking about you."
"Is it about another friend?" Blaise says.
"No, not a friend." He groans in frustration at not being able to articulate himself. "What I'm trying to say is, I want to know if someone feels the same way about me as I do about them."
"Daphne?"
"No, not Daphne."
"Why can't you just ask them?"
"Because-" Draco sighs. "We agreed we weren't going to do this feeling shit."
"You're being incredibly vague here," says Blaise. "I don't understand what you're trying to say."
"Okay, it doesn't matter," Draco says. "I'll figure something out."
"My advice would be to talk to them," says Blaise. "Communication is key, I've been told. Tell them how you feel then ask if they feel the same way. I don't see how that can go wrong."
Draco exhales, a stabbing pain hitting his heart. "I just don't want to fuck it up," he says quietly. And that's all the answer he needs. Telling Ron how he feels would fuck things up, he's sure of it.
Blaise nudges their foot into Draco's knee. "Then don't say anything that will fuck it up. Weigh up the pros and cons of telling them how you feel. If the benefits outweigh the risks, you should do it. Simple as that."
Draco nods slowly. The risk of losing Ron surely outweighs everything. He can't risk it, not now. Ron wanted something casual, that much was clear. He didn't start it seriously or intend for it to get serious. The way forward is clear: continue how things are.
"You could create a table," Blaise suggests solemnly. Draco dissolves into a fit of giggles.
"What?" frowns Blaise.
"A fucking table," Draco laughs. "Jesus Christ, that's the most Blaise thing I've heard. 'Do I love them?' I don't know, let's create a fucking table."
"Do you love who?" asks Blaise, ignoring his giggling.
Draco's head snaps up. "What?"
"You said 'do I love them'?"
"Yeah, it was a hypothetical," says Draco after a panicked moment.
"All right," Blaise sniffs, staring back down at his book.
The question posed seems ridiculous to be said out loud. Of course he doesn't love Ron, it's not that serious. If anything, it's two lonely people, both using the other to fulfill their needs. And anyway, he's got a date: Daphne Greengrass from the prestigious pureblood family of Greengrasses. She's funny, well-liked, intelligent, pretty: perfect in every way.
Yet when Draco closes his eyes, his heart doesn't ache for her, in fact it only longs for the touch of one person ever again. And that person doesn't want him back, not like this.
No romance, no being friends, nothing long-term.
The words echo around Draco's head in torturous symphony.
Ron pulls his tattered hand-me-down robe on, ignoring Harry and Hermione sniggerings about a girl's dress, as they rather like it despite the shabbiness. Harry decided to go with Parvati weeks ago, and the remaining Gryffindors paired up leaving Ron with Padma. There's nothing inherently wrong with her, Ron reflects, but the only reason they ended up together was because they were the last ones left.
"Hi," says Padma as Ron walks into the Common room. She's wearing an orange and pink sari with her hair flowing down to her waist. Her smile falters as she sees Ron walk in with unbrushed hair and their shabby second-hand dress robes.
"You look nice," says Ron unenthusiastically.
"Smile and I might believe you." Padma clicks her tongue, irritated. "Have you put any effort into this at all?"
"Yeah," says Ron.
"Seriously Ron, I'm not your mother. Can you at least brush your hair?"
Ron dejectedly walks back to the dormitory.
Meanwhile, Draco meets up with Daphne outside the Great Hall entrance along with the crowds of students bustling in.
"You look lovely," smiles Draco, taking her hand.
"Thank you, so you do," she replies. "These heels took some getting into though."
Draco observes her tall white high heels. "Are you going to be able to dance in those?"
"Probably not," she says. "You might get trodden on."
They go into the Great Hall, which is decorated in festivities. The tables are pulled to the sides to make space for the dance floor, on them displaying a large variety of refreshments, from beer shakes to ginger star cakes. Classical music echos through the hall and couples are already playfully dancing around the floor as others watch at the sides.
"Do you want to get something to drink first?" asks Draco.
"Yeah, good idea," replies Daphne. She catches the eyes of a group of her friends and waves. "One minute, I'll just go and say hi."
"Alright." Draco watches her absently, pouring himself a large glass of wine. He's prepared himself beforehand to hold it together all evening, engaging in the dancing and the facade of being with Daphne. It's exhausting, but he can't drop the pretence until he's alone, for his father's sake.
Most of the students have already entered and settled into the hall, so Draco notices when Padma and Ron enter, fifteen minutes late. Padma pulls him along straight to the dance floor, and Ron lets themselves be dragged with such obvious reluctance that Draco pities, yet almost envies.
Ron's already finding the evening hell. He hates everything about it; it's a living reminder that they will never be able to live authentically. They catch a glimpse of Draco across the room, swaying side to side with Daphne. It hurts how badly they want to be in her place, in his arms. But Draco wouldn't be feeling the same, in fact he looks perfectly content resting his hands on her waist. He told Ron about taking Daphne as his date like it was nothing, like it's not tearing them up inside seeing a girl in their place.
The music halts to a stop and Professor McGonagall stands up to the podium. "Good evening, sixth and seventh years," she announces through the mic. "Settle down, please."
The loud chatter eases.
"Today is Hogwarts' 51st Yule Ball, and I'm sure you've been looking forward to it. We're closing the doors at midnight, so please wrap it up by then. You're free to leave whenever but make sure to head straight back to your dormitories."
She gives a knowing glare and a laugh goes around the crowd.
"Anyone found wandering around the school will be punished. Aside from that, I hope you all have fun tonight. Enjoy yourselves, and drink responsibly."
A few cheers and shouts go around the crowd and the music resumes.
"Shall we dance?" says Daphne, glancing around to see students starting to couple up and move around the hall.
"Yes, let's," says Draco, putting his hands on her shoulders. They dance to the music, demonstrating the upbeat jive they practiced the previous week with McGonagall, and then the slow swaying further into the evening.
Around 11 pm, Draco notices Daphne's movements become slower and her smile starts to droop.
"Do you want to go now?" he says quietly, dancing closer to the outskirts of the room.
Daphne drops her hands, relived at his suggestion. "Yeah, let's go."
They sneak out and up to the second floor.
"You have your own room, don't you?" says Daphne as the pause outside the entrance to the Slytherin girl's dormitory.
"Yep."
"How come?"
"My father asked Dumbledore if I could," says Draco with a shrug. It's not miles off the truth.
"What, he just bullied him into it?"
"I'm sure he asked nicely."
"Lucius Malfoy asking nicely," Daphne snorts. "That'd be the day. No offense, by the way."
"Insulting my family, how romantic of you."
Daphne smiles. "That's me."
"So..." Daphne drags out the word, placing a hand on his chest. "You want to go up there or-?"
Draco smiles back with as much confidence as he can muster. "Sure." As he leads her up to his bedroom, he thinks up scenarios to avoid the inevitable, none of them remotely feasible.
"This place is big," says Daphne as they enter the room. She gazes around at the fireplace, sofa, desk, bookcase then the double bed. "I'd kill for my own room."
"Yeah, I got lucky," says Draco.
She looks into his eyes, and the silence fills the air with tension. He realises this is the right moment and leans to kiss her.
Daphne fully embraces the kiss, holding his face with her hands and Draco bends down slightly to adjust to her height. After a few moments, Draco pulls away. He tries to gauge her intentions and whether he should continue the kiss or if he can get away with leaving it. Daphne interprets Draco's hesitation as tiredness, and she's exhausted too so doesn't press further.
"It's been a long night," she says. "I should probably get to bed."
Draco nods, barely disguising his relief. "It was fun. You're a good dancer."
"Thanks," she smiles, pleasantly surprised. From Draco's arrogant exterior, she imagined it would be a repeat night of all the previous disastrous Yule Balls but agreed to appease her father. He almost seemed distracted, not at all like she expected.
"See you tomorrow," she says.
"Night."
Draco collapses into the armchair. Daphne was nice enough and surprisingly laid back. If she wasn't too interested in kissing or sex then maybe they could make it work and he could finally please his father.
Ron has been miserable all evening. Padma became sick of their half-hearted dancing and went to join her friends about an hour ago. Ron sits on one of the benches, robotically eating leftover almond star cakes, staring into space and wondering how long it is until he can leave.
Padma approaches Ron, having grown tired of insulting him to her friends. "You done eating all of those?"
Ron glances up. "Oh. Yeah."
"Come on." She grabs his hand and pulls him up. "I'm bored."
Ron follows her, equally as willing to leave the bright lights and obnoxious music behind.
"Where are we going?"
"Just follow me."
They walk in the opposite direction to the Gryffindor Common room, towards the classrooms.
"We're gonna get caught," mutters Ron as they pass an unfamiliar area of school somewhere along from the third-floor bathrooms.
"That's the fun of it," she says with a fed-up smile. "Okay, we're here."
They reach a small alcove in the corridor, the moon trickling through the stained-glass windows and illuminating the corridor, causing long shadows to stretch across the floor. Ron looks around: there doesn't seem to be anything significant about this place as to why they've stopped here.
"Are you gonna kiss me then?" she says impatiently. Ron feels themselves gradually losing connection with the situation as Padma places a hand on his waist.
"Uh," he falters.
Padma leans in as if she's about to kiss him, and Ron quickly jerks back. "I don't want to."
She lets out a noise of disbelief.
"Fucking hell, you're boring," she spits. "I wish I'd never asked you to be my date. You haven't made an effort to look nice, you haven't danced with me once and you're acting like you think I'm gross or something. Am I not good enough for you Ron Weasely? Because I suggest you rethink your fucking standards. You're the worst date I've ever had, and that's saying something. You've ruined my whole night."
She storms off.
Ron doesn't move for a minute, breathing in shakily. The first thought that comes to them is: she has a point. They've been miserable all evening, not dancing, not making any effort, then refusing to kiss her. He really was a useless date.
Ron wipes the snot and wetness collecting on their face off with their jacket sleeve as they stagger back down the corridor. They don't know where to go. He can't go back to the dormitory where Harry and Seamus and Dean would be waiting to hear what happened between them and Padma. They can't go outside or continue walking around the school because they'd get in trouble. He feels totally alone.
Draco reclines on his bed. His uncomfortable dress robes and tie lie sprawled on the floor beside the bed swapped out for casual attire. He skim reads a book, trying to remove the entire evening from his mind. No matter how understanding Daphne can reasonably be, nothing makes up for the fact that he spent the night dancing with, then kissing, a woman.
He hears a few bangs at the door. Thinking Daphne might've come back for something, Draco opens it. To his surprise, Ron lurches in, eyes puffy from crying and tears still falling.
"Ron?" says Draco.
"Draco," Ron coughs, his eyes darting around the room.
"Are you okay?"
"Um, yeah. Well, not really. I've just had a shite evening," Ron snivels, "and I didn't know where to go."
"What happened?" asks Draco.
"It was- it was Padma," Ron hiccups. "Well. It wasn't her fault. I was- um, yeah, I was a shit date. And she said, um, not said but she wanted to kiss and I- I said no. And she got mad at me."
"If you didn't want to kiss her then you don't need to," says Draco. "If that's what you're saying happened."
Ron breaks out into tears. "I'm completely useless."
They sob and lean forward into Draco's chest, who wraps his arms tightly around Ron with no hesitation.
"Ron, no you're not," says Draco. "What did she do to you, why are you so upset?"
"It's, it's probably stupid, but, like, she said, that, um, I ruin everything, well, she said I ruined her whole evening and I'm the worst date she's had ever," Ron murmurs through tears. "And she's right."
"What a fucking bitch," Draco mutters furiously.
He rocks Ron gently from side to side as they cry into his chest. "You don't ruin anything, all right?" He rubs their back. "It's okay, Ron."
Draco slowly guides Ron to the sofa and they sit down together. Ron doesn't stop crying, embarrassment and shame overcoming them each time he tries to stop, Padma's outburst stemming into a downward sprial reminding him of everything he hates about himself.
"Sorry," Ron gulps. "You probably don't want to hear this. I'm just- I really hate myself. I wish I was-" he chokes down tears. "I wish I wasn't me." He cries harder and sinks down to bury their head into Draco's chest. Draco just holds them.
About ten minutes go by, and Ron's exhausted sobs slowly fade out as they drift off to sleep.
Draco doesn't move, not wanting to disturb them.
He watches their head move up and down as he breathes in and out, a pang of rage hitting him. How dare Padma? He wants to hurt her and give her a taste of her own medicine and make her pay for every tear Ron's shed.
Ron sniffs quietly, bringing Draco's attention back to the room. He can't bring himself to stay angry for long with them resting on him.
He wishes they could stay like this forever: just the two of them, their weight on his with absolute trust. He lays a hand on the back of Ron's head protectively.
Was this still an experiment?
Could he truly look Ron in the eyes and say that they're only serving him as a means to an end?