GHOSTS
V
Confession II

***

"Go home over Christmas."
"Huh?" Ron started at his lover's voice; looked up from his Muggle Studies assignment.
"Go home over Christmas. That was we can meet up ... we'll still be sneaking around, but we'll be sneaking around -less- ... and we can spend Christmas in Muggle London!"
"Why Draco, if I didn't know better, I'd almost think you liked me." Draco, who had been stretched out on the bed, curled up into a ball and put his head in Ron's lap, reminding Ron for all the world of a kitten. "Last time I checked, though, you were still using me for sex. Unless of course you're planning to fuck me senseless in the streets of London for everyone to see, which I would not totally put past you." His tone was half-joking, but he was surprised at just how bitter his words came out.
Draco sighed. "I —" he faltered. "I'm not supposed to care about you, you know."
"But you do?"
"...Yeah."
"And I have no business lov- I mean, caring for a cold-hearted bastard, but..."
"Ron? You said 'loving.'"
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did."
"No I didn't!"
"...I love you too."
There was silence for a long time, until someone spoke, had to speak, had to break the tension hanging in the air, hanging over their heads, ready to drop....
"Well. This changes things, doesn't it?"
"Oh yes. This changes things in a big way. I -can't- love you, you realize that? It's not just that you're a guy; I think my parents think I'm gay anyway, but —"
"But I'm a Weasley," Ron finished for him. "I'm not good enough for you. I'm too poor, my family's too strange — lower than mudbloods, almost," he said flatly.
"No!" Draco cried, then his voiced dropped down to nearly a whisper. "I mean — yes. But I don't think so. I -love- you, Ron."
Not for the first time, Ron marveled at how different Draco was when they were alone. The heartless façade dropped, and behind it was a boy, starved for affection and too old for his age. Someone completely different. Someone ... lovable.
Draco sat up, not to pull away as Ron had feared, but to wrap his arms around his lover and kiss him softly. "Don't be mad at me," he murmured. "I can't help being who I am. And I can't help what my parents believe."
"But you believe it, too," but he wasn't so upset anymore; it was evident in the way he relaxed into Draco's arms.
"Yeah." Draco looked faintly embarrassed. "I did. I still do, maybe. But you would, too, if you were raised like I was. Do you realize," his voice had grown steadily louder, and was now on the verge of becoming hysterical, "that if I was vulnerable, if I was -nice-, even, a halfway decent person, I'd be letting everyone down? I'm -Draco-Malfoy-, for God's sake! -Lucius-Malfoy-'s son! People were calling me evil before I could even talk, much less do the bidding of some dark lord! You might wish you'd been able to lead a normal life, with food in the cupboards and Sickles in your pockets, but I was never allowed to be -human-!" At that, he burst into tears, releasing all the pain, the anger, the sadness of seventeen years of near-demonic perfection, and Ron could only watch in amazment and try to kiss the tears away.

***