Penname: Page of Cups
E-mail: AndromedanPrincess@hotmail.com
Title: Everything Changes
Pairing: Ron Weasley/Draco Malfoy
Rating: R
Summary: Wherein Ron reveals a secret, and can't get a certain Malfoy off his mind.
If you haven't read the disclaimers, you've come this far, and you still don't know its slash and I don't own Harry Potter: a) you're denser than my sister, and b) it's your own fault.
Chapter Five: Nostalgia
As soon as Professor McGonagall allowed them to leave, Ron headed for Gryffindor Tower, refusing to look back for the slightest chance that he would meet Draco's eyes. There was a tugging sense in his mind, the sensation he typically got when someone was watching him, and Ron didn't need to think about someone like Malfoy watching him as he hurried away. What had happened in there? One minute he was polishing trophies and he was snogging Malfoy senseless the next.
Increasing his pace, Ron's feet fell in heavy patters across the floor as he ascended staircases to make his way to Gryffindor. In the pit of his stomach, Ron could feel that same sensation coming back that he typically got from Seamus suggesting Malfoy was checking him out. A voice in the back of his mind laughed at the thought. Malfoy probably had been checking him out if he was snogging Ron like that. This brought Ron back to his more recent question. Did he want Malfoy checking him out? Even stranger, did that mean that Malfoy had liked what he'd seen?
"Aravis," said Ron to the Fat Lady.
"Where have you been? Shouldn't you have been in the common room hours ago?"
"I had detention," he said, sighing. "Aravis."
"Honestly, what for? You always seem to have detention."
"I hit Malfoy. Aravis."
"You hit that boy again? I think you need to do something about your anger control issues."
"I don't have anger control issues. Aravis."
The Fat Lady snorted at him. "Three fights in three months with the same person sounds like you do have anger control issues."
"Would you just let me in the common room?"
"No need for you to get snooty. Password?"
"Aravis," he huffed, glaring at her.
Looking seriously offended, the Fat Lady opened up to reveal the portrait hole and entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Climbing through, Ron found Hermione to be the only one there anymore. She was seated by the fire with a blanket over her lap, a book in her hands, and she was fast asleep. Leaving her sleep and not wanting to talk about what happened at detention anyway he crept past her for the staircase and followed the winding route to the seventh year dormitory.
In the darkness, Ron shut the door behind him and walked over to his bed, pulling back the curtains. Silently undressing, Ron pulled on his pajama pants but decided not to bother with his top, collapsing into bed and pulling the draperies shut. He grabbed his pillow and, laying on his stomach, hugged it to his chest. Lifting his fingers to his lips, Ron ghosted flesh across flesh. The sensation of Malfoy's lips on his was still vivid in his mind, hot, sweet, and moist. Ron hadn't kissed many people in his time but he was sure that Malfoy was a very good kisser. No wonder so many people warmed his bed.
"What the hell was that, Malfoy?" said Ron, softly.
A raging conflict of emotions was building inside him too quickly for Ron to properly adjust. The tension seemed to be flowing through his veins and into every part of his body. He could feel it in his arms, his legs, his fingers, though more private parts of his anatomy seemed to be perfectly clear on how they felt about the situation.
"Why Malfoy?" said Ron, burying his face into the pillow.
The emotion Ron Weasley was most acquainted with was anger and then humiliation. As luck would have it, he managed to be feeling both these things as he lay in bed, thinking of the detention and past three hours he had just spent with Malfoy. So many times he had claimed that what Malfoy did to people was disgusting and Ron had just about fallen into his trap. It felt so good, though, to have Malfoy's body pressed against him. He straddled the line of androgyny (at least in Ron's arms), being smaller than most with girlish hands and a lean figure, but his body was clearly male, with the hard muscles from years of Quidditch.
"What is wrong with me?" Ron wondered aloud. He briefly hoped that the other boys were fully asleep or they were going to start thinking that Ron was crazy with the way he was talking to himself.
He was angry with Malfoy for - well, for everything. How dare he touch Ron like that? How dare he be smart enough to tell Ron he was noticing him? It didn't take someone with Hermione's eye for detail to know that Ron would cave in to his heart when using a line like that . . . heart? Was Ron really caving in to his heart? Did that mean that he did want Malfoy to be noticing him?
"It was a line," said Ron. "Just a line. He was trying to get in your pants." Flipping over in bed, Ron stared up into the darkness. "I've really got to stop talking to myself."
He actually wanted to be on the receiving end of those looks and touches from Malfoy. Despite everything Ron had ever heard about him, ever thought about the way Malfoy went about in his sex life, Ron still wanted to be noticed. This had to be the most pathetic thing he'd ever done. It wasn't like it was fair, though. Malfoy was gorgeous. There would never be a dispute about that. How was Ron actually expected to turn away someone who looked like Malfoy? It had to be purely physical. There was no other explanation other than Ron had suddenly gone very crazy and was actually developing some feeling for Malfoy that wasn't hate.
On second thought, that could be it, couldn't it? Sometime last year after a row with Malfoy (ironically), Dumbledore had smiled pleasantly at Ron and told him that it took a great amount of passion to hate someone. Ron had heard the same thing before from his mother, who was always saying it to explain how Fred and George had gone from intense loathing as children to best friends as teenagers and now, adults. Love and hate were supposed to be separated by a very thin line. This could all be some displaced abhorrence falsely interpreted to be love. Or had Dumbledore, in that loony yet keen sense he had, known what Ron was going to start feeling for Malfoy ahead of time? Had he said that to let Ron know it was okay to have these feelings? Perhaps he was thinking too much.
How could he have possibly gone and developed feelings for Malfoy? He was insufferable, intolerable, and everything about him made Ron want to cringe. Just watching him swagger down the corridors like he owned the school and everyone in it made his insides shrivel. Nothing was as appalling as watching Malfoy in class, acting like he was highly superior to the others with knowledge of something no one else possessed.
There was also the possibility that this was merely Ron's sex drive, as small as it was, talking. It could be possible that he was merely reacting to being wanted. His body didn't have prejudices against pasty ferret Slytherins, though the same could probably be said for over half the people Malfoy had shagged. Just because he was bloody sexy didn't mean that he was well-liked.
So this was what it felt like to be desired. This was what it felt like to be desired in a sexual way, never mind the fact it was Malfoy, someone who had come close to topping Ron's list of enemies. Despite all the self-beating, Ron had to admit that it wasn't so bad to have someone actually look at him. It was wonderful having Malfoy moving against him. Ron's past experience had included some prudish kissing with Hermione in fifth year, a drunken snogging session with one of the twin's friends over the summer before sixth year, and what had happened in sixth year, the closest he had ever come to having sex, which involved a seventh year Ravenclaw named Mindy Pratt. In an attempt to get back at her former boyfriend, a muggle-hating Slytherin, Mindy had cornered Ron after a Charms lesson and led him to believe she was actually interested. Ron was stupid enough to fall for it and they dated for two weeks before they ended up half-naked in an empty, forgotten classroom. Mindy broke up with him the moment he stopped it and the said ex-boyfriend impregnated her three days later.
If he gave into Malfoy, things would probably end similarly to the way they had with Mindy. What would Ron have after that? At least he left Mindy with his virginity and some dignity in tact. Malfoy wasn't going to be abated with innocent kissing if Ron suddenly decided he wasn't ready. If he did go through with it, Malfoy wouldn't declare his endless love for him. All he had ever cared about with anyone was that he got off. Ron knew. He had heard the stories in the halls.
"What happened to him?" Ron softly wondered aloud. His eyes stung and his throat felt dry and scratchy as he spoke. "We used to be friends."
Closing his eyes, Ron tried to clear his mind and force sleep to come upon him.
~*~
"Ron, I really think you should tell us what's wrong," said Hermione, peering at Ron over the top of her Arithmancy text.
"Nothing is wrong," he said, sounding weary of the subject, which, truth be told, he was.
"I agree with Hermione for once," said Harry and Hermione looked like she didn't know whether to kill him or hug him. "You've been acting strange ever since you got up this morning. You've been acting strange ever since you got that letter from your mum. Is this all about Christmas? We told you we'd stay here with you. Not like I have much of a choice anyway, but you sure beat the Dursleys any day."
"Thanks, Harry," said Ron, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I didn't mean it that way. There's no one else I'd rather spend Christmas holiday with. You know that."
"I know," said Ron, softly.
"So . . . is it about Christmas?"
"No. I just - I don't know how to explain it. Something is on my mind and I'm not ready to talk about it. I'll let you know if and when I am."
"Okay," said Harry, looking worried.
"Can we at least know what it has to do with?" said Hermione. "That way we have some idea without you telling us. You know we'd do anything to help you."
"It's about Malfoy."
"Did he do something to you at detention?" said Harry, sharply.
"Er - something like that. Look, really, I don't want to talk about it yet."
"If Malfoy hurt you -"
"He didn't hurt me, Harry."
"He didn't - er - mention Ginny, did he?" said Hermione, carefully.
"You don't have to be careful around me when you talk about my sister," snapped Ron. "No, Malfoy hasn't ever mentioned Ginny. Neither do you, now that I come to think of it. Or my mum and dad. In fact, everyone just pretends like Ginny never existed."
"We don't want to -"
"I don't care what it is you don't want to do right now, Hermione," said Ron, sighing as he dropped his head into his hands. "I already told you I'm not ready to talk about it and that I would when I'm ready. I even told you that it had to do with Malfoy. What more do you want from me?"
"I'm sorry, Ron," she said, looking ashamed of herself. "I worry about you."
"We all do," added Harry.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't."
"I'll stop worrying about you when you stop worrying about me," said Harry.
"I don't worry about you."
"Really? You know, last night I had this dream again about Voldemort. My scar was burning so much it woke me up."
"Did it really?" said Ron, his melancholy mood suddenly forgotten while concern for his friend perked his attention. "You should go to Dumbledore, Harry."
"It didn't really happen, Ron; I was trying to prove a point."
"That was a rotten trick, Harry."
"I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
A hint of a smile came across Ron's face. "Of course."
"Good. Now that you're in somewhat of better spirits, are you ready to go down to the Great Hall for supper or do Hermione and I have to bring you back food from the kitchens again."
Since last night, Ron had been trying to avoid Malfoy at all costs. Staying in the common room seemed like a good tactic for achieving his goal and so Ron had refused to go to the Great Hall for breakfast or lunch. It was getting very close to dinner time now and Ron hesitated.
"I don't know -"
"Gods, is this because of Malfoy?" said Harry, looking irritated again. "Stop letting that spoilt little ferret get to you. You know you're worth a million of him and then some."
Hanging his head, Ron tried to avoid Harry's eyes. "You know what, I think I am going to go."
"Good. Don't let Malfoy keep you from eating in the Great Hall when you have every right to be there."
Ron was uncharacteristically quiet as they left the common room and headed seven floors down to the Great Hall. For the entire duration of the walk, Harry kept going off about the many lesser points that made up Draco Malfoy and there were times when Ron got angry at himself for feeling defensive. Some of the meaner comments Harry was throwing out there made Ron bitter, wanting to defend Malfoy, but he remembered to keep his tongue.
Sitting with his back to the Slytherin table, Ron sat next to Hermione and began to pick at the food before him. This thing with Draco on his mind was taking a toll on his usually ravenous appetite. Unable to eat knowing Draco was right across the Hall, Ron chanced sneaking a glance by turning around and peering over at the Slytherin table.
There was Malfoy, his silver eyes going strangely wide seeing Ron turn around to look at him. A light pink tinge appeared in his cheeks and he held Ron's gaze for a moment before breaking it to look at Crabbe. The next time Draco glanced over (Ron assumed it was to see if Ron was still staring), his face turned into a disgusted scowl.
"Ron! What are you doing, Ron?" asked Harry. Ron turned around to look at him.
"I'm sorry, Harry. What did you say?"
"What were you doing?"
"Er - nothing."
"Were you looking over at Malfoy?" asked Hermione, now also peering back at him.
"No."
Glancing up, Ron saw that Malfoy and his goons were standing, about ready to leave the hall. Strutting like Malfoy often did, he looked over at Ron to give him one of his superior Malfoy glances before dismissing him. Confused and angry, Ron slammed his fist down on the table, said, "I'm sick of his games", and stood up to go after Malfoy.
How dare he look at Ron like that after what happened last night? How dare he make Ron stay up half the night thinking of what it felt like having Malfoy in such a position? How dare he act superior after making Ron question his motives all night long?
Hermione and Harry were right behind him as Ron stalked up to Malfoy and tapped him very sharply on the shoulder. Malfoy's eyebrows were furrowed as he turned around to see who had dared to touch him. Standing off to the side were Crabbe and Goyle, looking like large, thick guard dogs prepared to attack if Draco should so order.
"What do you want, Weasel?"
"We need to talk. Alone."
"After last night, I wouldn't spend a moment alone with you even if it meant having to sacrifice my best robes. It isn't like my father couldn't buy me new ones, anyway. Your family would have to save for a year to buy you garments fit for a house elf."
"We need to talk."
"I'm not talking to you, Weasel. I have enough of your filth on me already from that little love tap." Once again arching his eyebrow in the silent challenge, Draco motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him before McGonagall managed to step in and assign them two detentions for the next week.
"I hate him!" Ron declared before storming ahead in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.
Harry and Hermione were right behind him, silent to allow Ron to cool off. When they finally got the Fat Lady to stop asking Ron if he had been fighting again, Ron passed through the common room to stomp up to the boys' dormitory. Hermione and Harry followed. They hung in the doorway as he stalked over to his bed, ripped back the curtains, dropped onto the mattress, and drew the curtains again.
"You're a girl, Hermione, you aren't supposed to be in here," said Ron from behind the curtains, breaking the tension. Both Harry and Hermione chuckled.
"Will you come out from in there, Ron?" said Hermione.
"No!"
It was a very childish sort of no and Hermione arched her eyebrows, looking to Harry. He only shrugged.
"Then can we come in there?" said Harry. There was no answer. "We're going to come in there, Ron." Still no answer.
Walking over to Ron's bed, Harry slightly parted the curtains to Ron's bed and Hermione crawled in first followed by Harry.
"I don't think three grown teenagers were meant to sit in here," said Hermione once Harry had settled himself. They were seated at the foot of the bed and Ron sat at the head, his knees pulled up to his chest and his chin lightly rested on them.
"I hate him," he said at last, weak.
"A lot of people hate him, Ron," said Hermione.
"I really hate him."
"Why does he upset you so much?"
Ron sighed.
"It's a very long story."
"There's a story?" said Harry, sounding surprised. "I just thought you hated him for the same reasons he annoys me."
"He's spoilt, annoying, and doesn't know when to shut up?" said Ron. Harry nodded. "No, that's not entirely it. I mean, that's part of it, but. . ."
"What is it, Ron?"
After a long pause, Ron said, "Did I ever tell you Malfoy and I used to be friends?"
"Yeah, right," said Harry, snorting a laugh. Ron stared at him, jaw set and his eyes devoid of any obvious emotion.
"I think he's serious, Harry," said Hermione, softly. "When were you friends with Malfoy?"
"When we were little. Really little. You know the child care center in Diagon Alley?"
"Yes, I've seen it," said Harry. "Just beyond Gringotts, right?"
"Right. Well, money was really tight back then and after doing the figuring, Mum and Dad realized it would be less costly to send us to day care while Mum got a job. Mum tutored Bill and Charlie before they went to Hogwarts and she was tutoring Percy at the time -"
"Tutoring?" interrupted Harry.
"Yes, tutoring. Most pureblood wizards don't go to muggle schools for the things you learn in primary school. Some do, but most get tutored. Since Mum was already tutoring Percy and had just started with Fred and George, she organized a small class and got paid for doing the tutoring. Since she was busy, Ginny and I went to the child care center. Dad got us in real cheap because he works for the ministry. Fred and George had to come a lot, too, because they were only doing things like learning to write and read and their colors."
"So you went to that center on Diagon Alley?" said Hermione. Ron nodded. "I suppose Malfoy went there, too."
"Yes," he said, nodding slowly. "I was already going there for a few months when Malfoy first showed up. Most of my earliest memories have Malfoy in them. It's the strangest thing. I can distinctly remember the first day he talked to me. For a long time Malfoy never talked to anyone but the girls who ran the center. I was the first kid he talked to."
"Malfoy didn't talk to anyone?" said Harry, laughing. "What? Did he think he was better than everyone else?"
"No, he was appraising us."
"Appraising you?"
"Watching us all to decide who would make the best friend."
"And he picked you," said Hermione, smiling.
"Yes. He picked me."
"So what happened?" said Harry.
"The first thing Malfoy ever said to me was that I had really red hair. Malfoy was the strangest kid you'd ever meet. He was always nodding," said Ron, and here he started laughing. "It was like he had a weak neck or something. Every time someone said something he agreed with, Malfoy always nodded. It was this weird, slow nod. He had this far-off voice, too. If I had heard of drugs back then, I'd have thought he was doing them and in serious doses."
"Nodding?" said Harry, trying not to laugh.
"Yeah," said Ron. "Nodding. Anytime he really liked a story, he'd start nodding and telling me what he thought the finer points of the story was."
"How old were you?" asked Hermione, as amused by the story as Harry was.
"I met him when I was three and he was my best friend until - well - I don't know. He even bit Crabbe for me once."
"What?"
"Crabbe was making fun of me and Draco bit him."
"Draco?" said Harry.
"What?"
"You said that Draco bit him."
"He did."
"No. You said Draco instead of Malfoy."
"Oh. Well, you know, he wasn't Malfoy back then. He was just Draco. He had really big eyes."
"Bigger than now?" said Harry. Hermione swatted him in the chest. "Abuser."
"Yes, they were bigger than now. Or maybe it was because he had a small head. I don't know," said Ron, thinking this over. "Anyway, when we started tutoring, I didn't see him as much. I was too busy with my studies and my bloody violin."
"Your violin?" said Hermione.
"In addition to the things muggles have to learn, pureblood families find it important to focus on the arts. I got Charlie's violin. And the piano, of course."
"Of course," said Harry, shrugging. "The only thing I knew how to play was Hide and Seek and I learned that running from Dudley. For some reason, I was always the one hiding. Then again, if Dudley was hiding, I wouldn't have wanted to find him."
"I play some piano, but not very well," said Hermione. "You had to learn piano?"
"Most do. Percy loves it. The twins hated it. I like it. We also had to learn ballroom dancing, but we don't need to talk about that."
"You can ballroom dance?" said Hermione. "I wish I had known these things when we were dating. It's very romantic."
"It's embarrassing and that isn't the topic of this conversation."
"Right. Malfoy. What happened, then?"
"I don't know," said Ron, slumping over. "I hate him. I really do. The last time I saw him at the center was when we were seven. The next time I saw him was in Diagon Alley a month before I got my Hogwarts letter. It was only in passing and he looked at me like he didn't even know me. Honestly, I don't think he remembered me. It had been such a long time and we were so young. His father had gotten to him."
"It was only three years. I'd have remembered you," said Harry.
"You don't have a father like Lucius Malfoy. I've hated him since I was a child and I hate him now. It was all his fault Draco was afraid to go home when old lady Bishop came to pick him up and I'm willing to bet it's his fault Draco is now so hateful."
"He was afraid to go home?" breathed Hermione. "Was he beaten?"
"Not that I know of. He just said he didn't like it there. Got yelled at a lot. I don't really know. By the time Draco was afraid of going home, we were being tutored and I didn't see him every day. I missed him so much. I couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts because Draco was going to be there and I was going to have my best friend again."
"Oh, Ron, and look what happened." Hermione covered her mouth.
"After Diagon Alley, I didn't expect him to remember me. Not that it didn't hurt -"
"Oh, Ron," she said again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You hate Malfoy all you want!"
Harry gave Ron a polite smile. "Girls."
Nodding, Ron grinned and said, "Girls."
~*~
"I hate him!" cried Weasley, stalking toward the Grand Staircase and Draco bit his lip, watching him go.
If only Crabbe and Goyle hadn't been with him or Potter and Granger weren't stalking him as usual. The retort had been essential. No one could know things were out of the ordinary between them. That would interfere with and possibly destroy the plan.
A strange sensation was sinking into him, something that he had heard called guilt. It felt foreign in his limbs and Draco tried to shake it off as headed for the Slytherin common room. He didn't want Weasley to hate him. Not when Draco felt like this about him.
How did he feel? It was only sex, after all. No need to get complicated emotions involved. Draco had tried the relationship road once. He didn't like the strings that came attached or the potential for heartbreak. There was no heartbreak when it came to sex.
Why was he feeling guilt for upsetting someone as insignificant as Weasley? Draco winced at his thought, remembering how Weasley had called himself insignificant only the night before. He had told Weasley he wasn't insignificant and Draco honestly believed it. Perhaps he should work on not thinking things like that when it could possibly slip out of his mouth for Weasel's ears to hear. No! Draco wasn't considerate! No one ever mattered to Draco so why was avoiding hurting Weasley so important to him?
This will all go away once I've had him, Draco thought. I'm only thinking I'm feeling something more because I haven't buggered his arse yet. After it happens, he'll be out of my system and I can move on to more refined taste.
Yes, that's all it was. Once Draco had gotten it over with, he could discard Weasley and move on. All he wanted to do was use him. Weasley would get over it. It wasn't like the silly bloke loved him or anything and Weasley was so accustomed to things being used. Being second hand himself was only right.
Confirming these thoughts, Draco took a deep breath and uttered the password to the Slytherin common room.