Tw: non-con towards a minor, violence, talk of sexual assault
Slughorn watches Draco throughout their next potions lesson on Thursday. He's been playing with the idea, pushing it back and forth in his mind. Is blackmail alone enough to manipulate Draco into compliance? He wants power, lots of it, and quick. Draco is his fast track for doing so; this opportunity is too good to waste.
He hasn't said a word to Ron, and he doesn't plan to despite knowing he could break them so much easier. Ron is, directly, irrelevant to his plan. But indirectly, it's crucial that they stay together. Their relationship is Slughorn's only bargaining chip at this point, and the fragility of it all makes him uneasy. It all depends on how easily Draco is willing to bend to his desires, which, judging by the defiant 'fuck you' he gave the previous Monday, is not going to be easy.
At the end of the lesson, Draco doesn't pack up with the rest of the class. In the last few days, he's come up with a plan to get Slughorn off his back for good. The main thing he needs to display is confidence. He's learnt that a good amount of confidence, however false, can get you pretty much anywhere and anything. This time, he won't let emotion override his stance, not if he threatens Ron, not for anything.
"Good afternoon, Malfoy," Slughorn says, taking a seat behind his desk once they're alone in the empty classroom again. "So I've been thinking-"
"I've been thinking too," Draco interjects, not waiting to listen to the rest of his sentence. "And this is harassment. You've been throwing out accusations with no evidence, you threatened to kill one of your students, and you purposely tried to intimidate me into drinking a potion banned by the Ministry. I want you to drop this now, and if you don't, I will be reporting you to the Ministry and informing my father."
Slughorn shakes his head. "I know what you really are."
"I don't care," says Draco harshly. "You have no proof, no one else is going to believe you. I don't look gay, I don't act gay, and I'm currently in a relationship with Daphne Greengrass. You'd be laughed at if you tried to suggest me and Ron were seeing each other. We're enemies, we always have been." Draco smoothes back his hair, finally feeling in control of the situation. "Compare us both. Against me, you have no credibility. You have no backing from anyone on either side of the war; no one would support you making this claim. My father would destroy your reputation, and he'd stop there if you're lucky. He won't stand for a Malfoy being treated like this, none of my family will, and I can assure you my extended family are extremely powerful and won't hesitate before ending you."
Slughorn takes a moment to consider this, and to Draco's dismay, he doesn't look in the least bit phased.
"The problem with you, Draco Malfoy," Slughorn eventually drawls. "Is that you think you're untouchable just because you're a Malfoy. Well, you're not. I don't give a toss about how much you try to intimidate me through your family. I'm well aware of the position of the Malfoys and the Lestranges and the Blacks, and do you know what?" He rolls each word off his tongue. "I don't care. If you hadn't noticed, I'm at Hogwarts with you, and they aren't."
Draco inches back as Slughorn leans further over his desk.
"You're more naïve than I thought if you truly believe that they'll be no repercussions for your disgusting affair with Weasely."
"Report me then," Draco says, his voice not betraying the fear at his challenge. "Why are you even talking to me if you're so disgusted? Just show your stupid map to the Ministry and get it over and done with."
Draco can think of a million ways Slughorn could respond to this question, something along the lines of him losing his job, being hounded by his father, facing public backlash, the Ministry dismissing the report, or the report being 'misplaced' and forgotten about.
Draco decides to go one step further, boosted by a new wave of confidence.
"I know you wouldn't do anything to Ron. You're just using them to intimidate me," he says. "But your empty threats don't scare me. You wouldn't dare lay a finger on them, you'd be fired instantly."
Frustratingly, Slughorn pauses a second too long for his response to seem convincing if he stuck to the idea of threatening Ron. He knows he can't call Draco's bluff again.
"We're done here, then?" Draco says when Slughorn says nothing.
"Believe me," Slughorn says, displaying no amount of urgency whatsoever. "We are nowhere near done."
Draco's irritation catches in the back of this throat. "Cut to the chase, professor, stop bullshitting me around. You know about me and Ron, you think it's disgusting, I get it and I don't care. Either report me or don't. No one will believe you if you do, so I suggest you save yourself the trouble and keep your mouth shut."
"I suggest you don't speak to me like that, Draco," Slughorn warns.
"Stop being so evasive and tell me what you want from me then," says Draco, outwardly brushing past the dangerous tone under Slughorn's words. But it doesn't go unnoticed, not one bit.
Slughorn rests his hands on the desk and leans forward. "I want you to introduce me to your parents."
Draco flares his nostrils. He expected Slughorn to demand something along these lines, probably with the goal of worming his way into Voldemort's circle.
He continues with his stance of confidence and flat-out refuses. "No."
Slughorn clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "It sounds to me as though you want your secret found out."
"I'm not doing what you want," Draco persists. "You have nothing on me. Leave me alone, or I will destroy your reputation."
Slughorn steps from behind his desk, walking so close to Draco that he believes he's about to either strangle or punch him.
Slughorn grabs Draco's chin and presses his mouth onto his, holding a suffocatingly long kiss. Draco freezes as Slughorn thrusts his hips forward to keep him in place, stroking his hand roughly up Draco's trousers.
Draco regains clarity, suddenly propelling himself away from him with such force that he crashes backwards into a desk. "What the hell?" he exclaims.
Slughorn doesn't shift his expression from content smugness, wiping across his lips with the back of his sleeve. "Why so distressed, Draco?" he smirks as Draco's hands begin to tremble. "I thought you were into that sort of thing."
Draco scrambles back, pressing his back against the door. He can't speak for a few excruciating seconds, unable to grasp what just happened. His legs feel like lead, his mouth like sandpaper. Disturbingly, Slughorn seems to find this amusing.
"I need to go," he stammers.
Slughorn shrugs, satisfied that he's done enough. "Go on then," he says. "I'd start arranging that meeting with your parents if I were you."
He watches Draco go, white in the face, shaking like he's seen a ghost, pushing back his hair as if that would wipe away the memory of the last minute.
It feels euphoric to have the son of one of the most powerful Death Eaters at his mercy.
Draco sits through the potions class, the last lesson of Monday. Slughorn's actions last Thursday still haven't sunk in, but a paranoid disgust has wormed its way deep into Draco's gut whenever Slughorn opens his mouth, whenever he glances his way, whenever he remembers what he did.
Slughorn stands at Draco's desk at the end of the lesson, causing spiraling anxiety to hit him. The bell rings and Draco knows he's not dismissed, so he stays seated and works up some courage to deflect and deny everything Slughorn is going to try and do.
Slughorn hasn't won, not yet.
"Get your quill out," Slughorn orders, setting down a page of cream paper on Draco's desk.
"Why?"
"You're going to write a letter," says Slughorn. "To your parents saying that you have someone you'd like them to meet."
"No, I'm not," says Draco, holding Slughorn's eye.
Slughorn rolls his eyes. "Draco," he sighs. "You're making this so much harder for yourself. Just write the letter. I'm not asking much."
"No," says Draco. "You kissed me."
"Yes, I remember," Slughorn says offhandedly, choosing to ignore Draco's shaky intake of breath.
"Okay," Draco gulps. He hesitates, eyes skirting around the classroom. "Aren't you going to apologise?"
Slughorn stares at him levelly. "No?"
"Right," Draco utters. Humiliation washes over him: why did he even bring it up?
"Why?" he says uncertainly. "Why did you..."
Slughorn crosses his arms impatiently. "Cat got your tongue?"
Draco clenches his jaw and looks right in his eye. "Why did you kiss me?"
"Because I want something from you," Slughorn shrugs. "And you weren't going to give me it, so I had to improvise." He sighs, far too deeply for it to be sincere. "Gosh, I didn't upset you, did I?"
Draco stares back incredulously. Under the mocking jokes and jarringly positive tone, does Slughorn find no fault with his actions at all? He clears his throat.
"Okay, well, I'm reporting you for sexual assault," he says as firmly as he dares, which comes out as more of a squeak.
"Do you know what sexual assault is?" Slughorn smirks. "I barely even kissed you, Draco."
All the momentum from Draco's position is lost in that second alone.
"I'll report you for something," he says, a futile attempt at resistance. Palpable defeat pours from his voice.
"Report me for what exactly?" Slughorn says. "I've done nothing wrong. Name me a law I've broken."
"But you kissed me," Draco says in a heartbreakingly insecure voice. "You're my professor. I didn't want to. It's wrong."
He doesn't understand why Slughorn is acting as if nothing bad happened. An edge of self-doubt creeps in and he thinks back to the previous Thursday. Slughorn definitely kissed him, and he definitely put his hands in places he would've preferred him not to. He did cross the line. He did. He won't let Slughorn talk him out of that.
He jumps as Slughorn slams his fist down on the desk.
"I've had enough of you playing the victim," he shouts. "Last chance. Get your quill out. Write that letter."
Draco grinds his teeth together. He's not used to being spoken to like this, not one bit.
"No."
"So you want to be kissed again?" Slughorn says.
Draco glares at him, his jaw falling ever so slightly, trapped between confusion and shock. How is he supposed to reply to that?
He doesn't need to form a response, because in one quick motion Slughorn is around to Draco's side of the desk and grabbing him by the collar. He drags Draco off the chair and onto the floor, knocking the air out of him with a swift blow to the stomach, and forces his lips onto his.
Draco cries out and writhes under his grasp, but when he feels Slughorn's tongue driven into his mouth he goes slack.
The shock paralyses him and he feels the hard classroom floor bang into the back of his head, another sharp spike of pain running through him. He can't breathe, yet Slughorn doesn't take his crushing bodyweight off Draco, or the tongue out of his mouth.
When Slughorn releases him he begins a coughing fit, choking out all the breath he was deprived of until his face is beetroot.
"Stop, please, stop," Draco chokes out, gasping for breath. "I'll write your letter, I'll write it," he says, holding his arms up protectively as Slughorn positions himself to lean back down.
"Good show," he smiles, his features relaxing back to his usual calm disposition.
He offers Draco a hand up, which Draco ignores, and he picks himself off the dusty classroom floor.
"Why would you do that?" Draco pants, halfway to tears. "What's wrong with you?"
"What did you expect?" says Slughorn. "You knew I was going to kiss you again. I told you this time, but you didn't seem opposed to the idea. You're just so desperate for the lips of another man on your own." He gives a scornful laugh. "Pathetic. Now sit down and write my fucking letter before you get something worse coming to you."
The words barely have a chance to sink in as Draco sits down, heaving for air and nursing an aching stomach. He puts his trembling quill to paper and waits for instructions.
"Say you would like to meet someone you believe to be of interest to them, this Saturday should we say?" Slughorn dictates. Draco obediently begins to write, the shaking of his hands making his heavy scrawl barely legible. "Mention that it's one of your professors and that I'm interested in working for Lord Voldemort, and I'm excited to have a chance to talk to them beforehand. That should do it."
Draco signs off. Slughorn thinks he's won, and by the smug smile on his face, he thinks he's succeeded in bullying Draco into compliancy. But Draco has different ideas. He scans over the letter one last time.
To Mother & Father,
I would like you to meet someone I believe to be of interest to you this Saturday. He is one of my professors from Hogwarts. He is interested in working for the Dark Lord & I am excited for you to have the chance to talk to him. We will be arriving this Saturday (25th) at 14:00.
Yours faithfully,
Draco.
20/01/97
Slughorn seems desperate to have himself re-introduced into the world of Voldemort, but Draco has no such plans. As soon as he gets to see his parents, he's going to tell them about Slughorn and what he's done. However embarrassing it's going to be, he must prevent any more of this one way or another; he can't let Slughorn win.
Knowing he has one last trick up his sleeve stops him from feeling as panicked as Slughorn gazes at him.
"There," says Draco.
"Well done," Slughorn says. "I'm looking forward to it."
Draco abruptly gets up and starts walking to the door.
"Seeing yourself out, are you?" Slughorn asks, a dangerous edge to his voice. Draco doesn't pay him any attention, enough space between them both to ensure his physical safety.
"Yes," says Draco. He opens the door and leaves.
Slughorn watches him go, simmering in anger from Draco's flippant attitude. He lets it go; Draco has served his purpose.
For today.
[One week later. Friday 24th January]
"Draco, I'm going to fucking piss myself I'm not even being funny," Ron complains for the fifth time.
"You've been saying that for the last ten minutes and you haven't yet," says Draco, not releasing Ron from his arms as they lie slumped across the floor leaning against the sofa. A half-finished scrabble lays on the floor in front of them, abandoned, besides two empty glasses of juice.
"If you don't let me go I'm going to get piss on your carpet," says Ron, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.
"Why would you use the carpet when my mouth is right here?" says Draco, opening his mouth for a second before letting out a massive wheeze at Ron's disgusted face.
"Draco, I swear to God, I'm being serious. Urine will come out of my body."
"Ok, ok," Draco relents, dropping his arms.
"Thank fuck," says Ron, making a dash for the door. "I'll be back in ten minutes, don't miss me too much."
"I won't," he calls, watching their hair fly behind them as they rush out.
Draco's smile fades as the door clicks shut and Ron's footsteps hurriedly pad away. It takes about ten seconds for the existential dread to set in; tomorrow he is going to take Professor Slughorn to Malfoy Manor to meet his parents.
After their potions lesson yesterday, Slughorn did it again. He acted like it was nothing, he made no comment on it after. All he said was something along the lines of 'this is necessary until I get what I want'. Draco wonders why Slughorn is even bothering to share with him his motivations. It doesn't change the fact that he forced a kiss onto his lips then felt a hand all over his body without a word. This time, Draco didn't have the heart to resist. It's a fanciful thought, but maybe if he pretends it isn't real, it will all go away.
Then afterwards, he dismissed Draco like it was nothing, which makes him wonder if he is overreacting. Slughorn doesn't seem to think he's doing anything wrong, or he won't admit to it, and he certainly won't acknowledge that he's crushing Draco's confidence day by day. Is this how people normally gain power? His gut knows it's not right, yet his brain is telling him Slughorn is doing this as a means to an end. It shouldn't be a big deal.
Abuse, assault, sexual harassment, violence, blackmail- they all feel too extreme to describe the current circumstance. Maybe he is overreacting after all? It was just two kisses. He did the same to Ron, kissed them without asking when they clearly didn't want to. Now Draco is a means to an end, just as Ron was to him. Slughorn is using Draco for power, just as Draco was using Ron to keep him alive. Draco rubs his hands across his face, his stomach turning over at the thought.
Maybe he is as bad as Slughorn.
Five minutes later, the door swings back open.
"Did you have fun?" Draco asks as Ron piles back on top of him.
"Barrels of laughs as always," says Ron, flinging their arms around Draco's neck.
Draco stops tensing up with them cuddling back into him, feeling as though he can finally relax.
"What is it?" Ron says, headbutting into the side of Draco's neck.
"Huh?"
"You look miles away."
"Oh, yeah," says Draco. "Ron, I have a question, actually."
Ron sits up straight, noticing his marked change in tone. "Yeah?"
"Did you ever, uh, was I ever, like..." Draco sighs, reconsidering his wording.
Ron pats his knee supportively. "Spit it out."
"Um, okay," says Draco hesitantly. "Did I ever go too far? Like, did I kiss you or whatever when you didn't want to?"
Ron's face falls slightly, more out of confusion than anything else. "Why are you asking?"
"Did I, Ron? Be honest," Draco pleads. "Yes or no."
"I guess so," says Ron. "But not like, it wasn't forced or anything," they say quickly at Draco's alarmed expression.
"Fuck," Draco exclaims, hiding his face in his hands. "Shit." It's all the confirmation he needs; he is as bad as Slughorn.
Ron frowns at him, slightly concerned. "Draco?"
"I'm so sorry," says Draco. "I'm sorry Ron. I'm really, I'm, ugh, I'm really sorry."
"No, no, it's okay," Ron assures him hastily- it sounds as if Draco is about to cry. "Draco, you can't just give me a yes or no like that, it's more complicated," they say. "The first time you kissed me, I can't say I was ready for it, and I didn't want to in that first split second, that's why I pulled away. But you never forced yourself on me, you never forced me to do anything I didn't want to. If you're thinking you've fucking, like, sexually assaulted me or something, or wherever you're going with this, then you haven't. And I forgive you for that time, I've put it behind me now. It's not a big deal."
"Are you sure?" Draco says, removing his hands to look into Ron's eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure," says Ron, resting their head on his shoulder. "If it had fucked me up that bad then I wouldn't be here by choice, would I?"
"That's not very reassuring," Draco mutters, stroking their ginger hair softly.
"Why don't I kiss you to cancel it out?" Ron says, a smile playing on his lips. Draco rolls his eyes but lets Ron plant a small kiss on his cheek.
"Happy now?" they say.
"Jumping for joy."
Draco gets up to put the juice glasses on the table and retrieves a ring from the table.
"What do you think?" he says, showing Ron the thin silver ring with a small white gemstone on it.
"That's pretty," Ron says. "Is it for me?"
"No," says Draco, holding back a smile at their disgruntled face. "It's for Daphne. Her birthday is next week."
"Oh, fuck off," Ron exclaims. They mime grabbing the ring, throwing it on the floor and repeatedly stamping on it.
"Here's me thinking you've got me a nice ring, but no, it's for your bloody cow of a girlfriend instead."
Draco raises his eyebrows. "Cow's a bit harsh."
"No, it's not. She's mean, and entitled, and treats anyone not up to her standard like shit," says Ron. "Also you two look stupid together, she's like a foot shorter than you so she has to look up at you with those fuck-me eyes, not to mention that your hair colours look ugly together. And why are you always bloody holding hands?"
"You're so fucking jealous, Jesus Christ," Draco grins. "I'm not into her, Ron. I like you and you only."
"Doesn't look like it," Ron sniffs. "Every bloody time I see you two together you're doing some soppy couple shit. It makes me physically ill."
"She knows it's not real," says Draco,
"I know, I'm joking."
"Are you?"
Ron sighs. "Ok, I'd be lying if a tiny part of me wasn't jealous, but I get it. It's fine."
"I can cut down on being so shoving-it-down-your-throat-heterosexual if you want," Draco says.
"No, you go for it, it's kind of funny seeing you in your natural habitat."
"My natural habitat is right here," Draco says, leaning onto them. "With you."
"Yeah, yeah, you're just saying that to make up to me that I have to share you."
Draco glances up at Ron's eyes to see if he's being serious or not, and the smirk on their face tells him that they're just winding him up.
"You're technically cheating on her," Ron points out after a moment.
"Yeah, I know," sighs Draco.
"Don't you feel bad about it?"
"Not really," Draco says with a strained laugh. "I probably should, but, you know." He shrugs. "Anyway, she knows it's just an act and we established that practically to begin with so it's not like she ever thought we were in a proper relationship. You being a secret is probably morally dubious, but there's no alternative. It would be stupid to tell her, I'd just be putting our livelihoods at risk." Draco shifts his legs so they rest against Ron's. "It doesn't keep me up at night. I can justify it to myself so I'm not that bothered."
"How bloody selfish of you," Ron says with a smile.
"Yeah, I know, but I really couldn't care less. Daphne's using me just as much as I'm using her."
"Do you kiss her when you're alone?" Ron asks.
"Of course not," says Draco.
"Does she kiss you?"
"Ron, everything's for show, I promise," Draco says emphatically. "When we're alone we act like mates because we are mates, and that's it. We don't kiss, we don't touch, we don't do anything like that. We joke around, sure, but nothing at all physical. We only kissed alone like twice right at the start when we didn't know what was going on."
"Is she a better kisser than me?" Ron asks.
Draco gives them a look. "You do know that I'm not attracted to women, right? Have I ever mentioned that before?"
"I know, but like, objectively is she better? Technique-wise."
"Fuck no," Draco grins.
"Alright," Ron says, satisfied with the answers. "Test over."
Draco lets out a laugh as Ron allows themselves to smile. "Would you like to play a game?" he asks, eyeing the bookshelf with his chessboard on.
"Please not another game of scrabble."
"No, something else."
"Like what?" Ron says suspiciously. "It wouldn't be chess, would it?"
"It might be."
"Chess does my head in," they groan. "Can we just chill for a bit? I'm not a bloody chess maniac."
Draco snorts. "A chess maniac?"
"Yeah, like you."
"Okay, fine, we can chill."
Later, Draco rolls to his feet and goes over to the CD player as Ron watches him lazily from the sofa.
"Do you want some music on?" Draco asks over his shoulder, rifling through his CD collection.
"Yeah, sure," says Ron. "What have you got?"
"Uh, I've got the album you got me, the Boy George one, then I've also got Bowie, AC/DC, Queen, Pink Floyd, Dire Straits, Radiohead, ELO, or Supertramp. The choice is yours."
"Anything less rock-y?"
Draco raises his eyebrows. "What's wrong with rock?"
"It's not very relaxing for a Friday night though, is it?"
"I can put on a more downbeat song then. Maybe some nice ELO."
"Yeah, I'm sorry but I'm not listening to bloody AC/DC at 1 am on a Friday night."
"Ok, ok, I'll save it for another time."
"Or never."
"Ron," Draco says indignantly. He chooses one of his favourite songs. The distinctive echo of Bowie starts to pour from the speakers into all corners of the room.
"Would you like to dance?" Draco says, offering his hand out to Ron.
Ron smiles awkwardly and looks at the hand. "I don't know how to dance," they say.
"Come on, we'll work something out," says Draco. Ron doesn't budge. "Are you going to accept my hand or do I have to drag you up here?"
Ron takes his hand with a dramatically reluctant sigh and gets pulled into the small space between the sofa and the bed.
"So what exactly am I mean to be doing?" Ron says, standing there as the music continues to fill the room.
Draco takes both of their hands with an excited grin. "Just groove around, I don't know. It'll be fun, I promise. Dance like nobody's watching."
"But you're watching," Ron mutters as Draco starts vaguely tapping his feet with the beat.
"I don't count."
"Alright," they say unsurely.
He watches Draco wiggle his hips from side to side completely out of sync with the music and can't help but snort at him.
"Is that what you call dancing?" they giggle as Draco continues moving around in a very uncoordinated fashion.
"Wait, I'll put on a more relaxed song," says Draco, fast-forwarding two tracks. He returns to Ron, closer than before.
"May I...?" he says, hovering his hands over their waist.
"Yes, you may," says Ron, feeling a hot blush creep up their neck as Draco places his hands firmly on their waist. "What am I supposed to be doing?"
"Put your arms around my shoulders and just sway around a bit," says Draco, putting his face right up to theirs as the gentle music glides around the room.
There's such a sad love
Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel
Open and closed
Within your eyes
I'll place the sky
Within your eyes
Ron does as he's told, their bodies gently rocking back and forth with the music, leaning against each other. Ron closes his eyes and tightens their grip as they lean onto Draco. Draco copies their hugging action and brings Ron's hips even closer into his body.
There's such a fooled heart
Beatin' so fast
In search of new dreams
A love that will last
Within your heart
I'll place the moon
Within your heart
As the pain sweeps through
Makes no sense for you
Every thrill is gone
Wasn't too much fun at all
But I'll be there for you
As the world falls down
The outside world fades from existence, for as long as Ron has Draco holding them safely and Draco has Ron in his arms, what else in the universe could possibly matter?
Falling
As the world falls down
Falling
Falling in love
The song slowly fades out and Draco's bedroom falls into silence, but the pair stay firmly in each other's arms.
"I'm enjoying this dance," Ron whispers after a few minutes.
Draco strokes their hair with one hand as the other stays wrapped around their waist. He almost answers with a snarky reply, but bites his lips shut as he feels Ron's cheek heat up against his own and pictures the red blush working its way across his face.
"I'm enjoying it too," he whispers back. "More than anything."
"This makes up for the Yule Ball," Ron murmurs. "A million times over."
Although Ron can't see the smile light up Draco's face, they can picture it.
"You're, like, the perfect size for this," Draco says quietly, trailing his hand down the back of Ron's neck.
"The perfect size?" Ron asks indignantly.
Draco chuckles as he realises how odd his comment must sound without context. "Sorry, I just meant, like, right. You know Daphne?"
"Your girlfriend," Ron mutters.
"That's the one," he says. "Well, she's way too small for this, like, she was fine at dancing, but it wasn't comfortable at all. I was practically stooping to reach her waist. But you're like, I don't know. It's easy to dance with you."
Ron nudges their head into Draco's as a reminder of their similar heights. "So you're saying-"
"I'm saying that we are made for each other, Ron Weasely," Draco says before he has a chance to back out.
All the air gets knocked out of Ron for a second and they inhale suddenly.
"Fuck me, that's romantic," he says, too stunned to think up a better reply.
"This is what happens when we slow dance," smiles Draco, burying his chin down into Ron's shoulder. "I get all soft."
"I like soft Draco."
"You won't be saying that in bed once we've been-"
"Draco," Ron interrupts sharply. "Don't fucking finish that sentence."
Draco cackles, leaning his weight onto their shoulders as he wheezes out a, "but I always finish."
"Bloody hell, are you on a roll now?" Ron takes their arms down. "You have the humour of a twelve year old, you know that?"
"Sorry," Draco says between laughs as they pull away. "That's my fault, I ruined the nice moment."
They both laugh it off, Ron giggling at Draco's wheeze every time he rethinks the line, and return to the sofa.
"Draco?" Ron asks slowly with a hopeful smile.
"What?" says Draco suspiciously.
"Do you think I could sleep over? Like I did on the Yule Ball night?"
A smile spreads on Draco's face instantly. "Yes, you can."
"It's just that I've not got anything on tomorrow and people usually do stuff at the weekends so no one would notice if I was gone in the morning."
Draco slides a stray strand of hair out of their face. "I'd love you to," he says as Ron goes an unsubtle shade of pink. "But this time we're sleeping on the bed like normal humans."
"If you insist," Ron says as if he wasn't hoping for him to suggest that.
"Bagsie left side of the bed," Ron says, taking a running jump to dive into the covers.
"Oi, it's my bed," says Draco, following Ron at a more restrained speed. "I get to decide."
"Good luck with that because I'm not moving," says Ron, his words muffled in the pillow as he buries himself under the sheets.
"How do you want to do this?" Draco murmurs as he lies next to Ron on the right side of the bed. They stare into each other's eyes and Draco brings his hand up to stroke the side of Ron's cheek, conscious not to touch them anywhere else. They've never done this before and he doesn't know what Ron's comfortable with.
"Aren't we supposed to face one way?" says Ron.
"Yeah, if you're happy with that," says Draco. "Which way are we facing?"
"Um, left," Ron says. "So you can engulf me."
"Do you want me to engulf you?"
Ron grins at his careful replies and shuffles closer to him. "Yeah, I do. I want you to suffocate me, preferably. Absolutely demolish me until I can't breathe. Fucking strangle the shit out of me."
"Fucking hell, steady on," Draco laughs as he grabs under Ron's shoulders and brings him right into his body until barely a part of them isn't touching. Ron, content with Draco's body pressed into his, holds his hands around their torso with their arms and closes their eyes.
"Is this alright?" Draco asks after a minute, wary of gripping them too tightly.
"Mm," Ron mumbles in agreement, already half asleep.
Draco closes his eyes and breathes into Ron's soft hair and his stinging dread eases for the night. It's like the night of the Yule Ball, holding Ron close as they drift off, but so much better in every way. That night was nearly two months ago, now.
I have feelings for you.
What an underwhelming way to describe the surge of elation he feels whenever he's with Ron. He supposes he only said it like that because he couldn't begin to put his real feelings into words.
But now he can, and that feeling is undeniable and inescapable love. He knew as soon as Slughorn threatened to hurt Ron, he felt the burning anger, the fear for them, the feeling that he'd do anything to avoid them getting hurt. Absolutely anything.
He is in love with Ron Weasely and he's too fucking terrified to tell them.
The weak rays of the sun don't wake Draco up, and neither does the bell ringing for breakfast, or the bell signalling the end of breakfast. It's Ron's voice that pulls Draco from his slumber.
"Wakey-wakey," Ron murmurs, tapping his on the shoulder. "Draco, rise and shine."
"Mhm?" Draco grunts, rolling over towards the voice and blinking open his eyes. "Oh, hi Ron," he says on seeing Ron sitting cross-legged right beside him.
"Morning," says Ron, the sun hitting their face at such an angle that perfectly brightens their features. "We missed breakfast, by the way. McGonagall will be on the hunt for us if we aren't careful."
"She can piss off," Draco says, sitting up and slicking back his hair which has stuck itself at various angles during the night.
"Did you sleep alright?" Ron asks.
"Yeah, I slept like a baby," says Draco. "How did you sleep, with me 'engulfing' you all night?"
"It was bloody lovely," Ron smiles. "I could do with being engulfed every now and then. It just felt so warm and safe and... yeah." They tail off, swallowing and glancing away.
"Ron, you are so beautiful, do I ever tell you that?" Draco whispers, staring at their freckled face, at their brown eyes, at their crooked smile.
Ron can't find words to express the blooming happiness flooding into his heart as he goes a deeper shade of crimson.
"You always put me on the bloody spot, what am I supposed to say to that?" they end up mumbling.
"Say thanks or something," Draco says, wrapping his arms around their shoulders and pulling their head into his chest.
"Thanks," Ron says and Draco lets out a snort.
"How long do you think I can get away with staying up here?" asks Ron with a mischievous grin as they curl their legs around Draco's waist.
Draco pulls their head back with his hands in the thick of Ron's hair and stares into their dilated pupils.
"Why don't we find out?"