Chapter Six: The Offer

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Notes: No, it isn't the sort of offer Malfoy made in Tapestry, but thanks for asking.

I should have done this sooner, but: A-Chan, you've been too good to me with your reviews. Every word on this page is for you.

Sydney, how is this shaping up? Happy, eh? Well, happier, anyway. It'll get more cheerful. Just wait.

And, yet again, I would like to thank JK Rowling. For making Daniel Radcliffe's eyes green for the movie propaganda (calendars, poster books, that creepy cardboard cut-out, et cetera) and therefore messing with one of his more attractive features.

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Ron lay awake, staring up at the ceiling with no particular thought in his mind. And then -- he froze. Tiny, soft feet were padding across the thick blanket over his legs, and two pale eyes materialized out of the darkness.

"Draco," he reprimanded, taking the cat in his arms and smiling slightly. "Don't do that." Setting the cat on the mattress beside him, Ron turned on his side, his back to the animal as it transfigured itself into a lanky blond man in the darkness. He slid almost noiselessly beneath the blankets, wrapping his arms around Ron's waist and nuzzling the nape of his neck.

"I meant what I said, you know." Ron hummed, feigning the moments before sleep while his eyes stared into the shadows of the room.

"About what, exactly?" Draco nuzzled closer, breathing deeply and exhaling in a content hum.

"The only thing I regret is giving you up so easily." Ron turned over, facing the blond man, though he could barely see him in the pitch black of the room. "Oh, don't look so surprised. I love you, you should know that."

"Don't kid yourself, Draco; it's been years since any of that -- "

"So you're going to tell me that love can't survive the ages?" His pale eyes had narrowed considerably, though his touch was just as gentle as he hugged Ron's middle loosely. "I thought I was crazy at first, thinking I still loved you ... and when I saw you for the first time, in the lounge with the others ... I tried to tell myself that it was just nerves. But, Ron, it's not just nerves or any of that -- these past days have shown me that. This feeling I've got is as strong as it was when we were kids, if not stronger."

"Draco ... "

"If it was love then, it's love now," he said softly. "And it always will be, come what may. Even you can't argue that."

*

The red bedroom was empty when Draco woke the next morning. By the look of it, Ron had dressed and slipped out quite a while ago -- the sheets were cold and the pair of red silk pajamas were folded neatly on a nearby chair. The blond sighed heavily as he transfigured into the sleek black cat he so very often was. It was so much easier for him to be a cat. To be able to slip soundlessly down corridors without being questioned. To visit Hermione's bedroom --

He realized grimly that he would no longer be able to visit the other two rooms as a mere household pet. Potter and Hermione now knew of his feline alias ... It would behoove him to remain in human form now. No more secrets, no more lying.

In a stroke of utter random nature, Draco had a thought which startled even himself. Perhaps he could make it work, if Granger would allow herself to --

As resolutely as a cat can make its way down a marble corridor, Draco Malfoy did, and he arrived in the dining room just as Potter took a seat at the long, placid table.

*

"I would like to propose something," Malfoy said suddenly, "something ridiculous and absurd -- though not because I don't want it myself." He looked around at them with hunger in his eyes. "It's ridiculous because it would benefit all of us; it would even, probably, make us all happy. No guarantees, of course, but -- " An expression of helplessness crossed his cold features, and he sighed. "But I want it to work."

Potter looked at him suspiciously, but said, "What's the proposition?"

"To judge its absurdity we need to know what it is," Hermione agreed. Even Ron was nodding, his gaze riveted on the pale eyes of Malfoy.

"Well . . . " He sighed again, more softly and privately, and closed his eyes. Then, with a flicker of determination, his eyes opened and moved from figure to figure. "Come live with me. All of you." A moment of surprised silence followed, and Malfoy's pale skin blushed pink.

"What of our families?" Hermione managed at last. "Would Ryce and Wesley come here to live, as well?"

"I don't know what the custody looks like between you and Neville, Hermione," he said hastily, "so I don't know exactly how often you have them. But -- yes, of course." She appeared torn between feeling relieved and finding something to be worried about.

"Draco," Potter spoke up, "I live at the school for the duration of the year -- as you do, as well -- and always volunteer to stay over during Christmas. You can't Apparate into or out of Hogwarts -- you know that."

Malfoy looked even more helpless, and he grappled with an answer. "Stay over on summer holidays, then -- maybe I didn't think this through well enough before suggesting it -- but you're all here, now, and I may never get the chance again." He peered anxiously around at them, apparently forgetting his usual Malfoy demeanor. "Look, I know we didn't exactly have close friendships as kids, but this whole thing was about second chances, about becoming even closer than at Hogwarts.

"It would not kill me if you declined," he finished, "but at least take some time to think about it before answering. Please."

*

As Hermione Granger packed the small overnight bag she had brought with her, her mind was reeling with possible ways to answer Malfoy's proposition.

As much as she would like to stay, she could say, Ryce and Wesley need a secure life after what they've been through. They need to have dependability, and Neville --

"Don't bring Neville into this," a voice in the back of her mind said. And she agreed with it.

She simply couldn't live with Ron Weasley, she could say, because they'd never gotten along and now would not be the ideal time to teach old dogs new tricks ...

She had work to do for the Prophet, an article about the new professors at Hogwarts and the school's relationship with Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. If she didn't have it finished in time, her editor would go mental.

Or, she thought grimly, she could just say no to it all. No excuses, just a simple no. He had said he wouldn't die if any of them decided they wouldn't stay.

As she finished packing the small bag, a thought struck her mind and stuck there.

She could always just say yes.

*

The bedroom was decorated in deep shades of green, and Potter liked it very much. He had spent the remainder of the morning there, after Malfoy's offer, and he was having a bit of trouble grappling with the decision.

He didn't dislike Malfoy. It was just that ... well, seeing him after so many years was painful, as Malfoy had said in the beginning, and it did sting a little to hear about his strong feelings for Ron, and it did hurt to see the way Malfoy had been looking at Ron since they arrived. Would it be really all that weird between them if the three of them chose to stay?

If it was difficult for him, he would be at school for nine months of the year, and he could always just opt out at any time. Malfoy had installed that option, had he not? It wouldn't be disastrous to divorce himself from the family once he had found it impossible to cope anymore.

He didn't have any family left, not really, anyway. The Dursleys he had abandoned long ago, much to their relief. Sirius had found a niche within the walls of Hogwarts, as well, so he saw him often. What other family did he have? None.

He might as well join Malfoy's little suggested family, even if on a trial basis. And they were all on good terms, if not the best ever, so ... Why not?

Potter left the green bedroom, his stomach so tied up with nerves that he did not notice when he almost ran down the sleek black cat, which jumped aside just before having its tail flattened by Potter.

*

When Ron Apparated, he found himself in an airy gazebo across the grounds from the massive white and marble house. He turned his back on it, trying to imagine how he could ever call this place his home. His home was the Burrow, the Ministry, Hogwarts --

And very suddenly he wondered what it was about those places that made them his home. The answer came to him soon enough: the people. And if he and the rest of them were on good enough terms, they might as well --

His mind flitted to the injured look in Harry's eyes when Malfoy had been telling his story. Were they really on terms as good as that? Living together, well ... that was a big commitment. And, as had been drilled into his mind many years before, commitment this significant was always sealed with marriage, no matter if you married pureblood or not. Ron supposed grimly that this included not only muggle ancestry, but also gender and social status and the possibility of evil lurking in one's past. After all, Malfoy --

Draco's parents were evil. A cheating mother and a Death Eater for a father. Why, it was little wonder he --

"If your wondering," a smooth voice said from behind him, "and know that you are, I turned my father in to the Ministry and Azkaban." Ron spun around to see Malfoy standing on the steps of the gazebo. He was smiling a melancholy smile, one which told Ron that it pained the blond man to speak those words.

"Oh."

"Yes," said Malfoy dryly, "Yes, 'Oh'." He chuckled humorlessly, and glanced at Ron with a longing demeanor. "Ron, I really want you -- and Hermione, and Pot--Harry -- to stay. I want this to work for us."

"I hope it does, Draco," Ron replied. "I hope it does."

"I've never had a family, you know? I guess even Harry had more of a family than I ever had," he said slowly. "At least he was noticed while he was with his aunt and uncle and cousin, right? But me, no. I've only known a mother who spent her wicked life in the bedroom and a father who served a Dark Lord." He looked at Ron with teary eyes. "You'll stay, though, won't you? Even if they don't?" He nodded toward the house when he said, 'they,' and hesitated afterward, waiting. Ron also hesitated.

"Well, it really is an intriguing offer, but ... " Draco looked off into the pond beyond the gazebo, wounded.

And before Ron could stop him or stay anything to comfort the blond man, Malfoy was pressing him against one of the pillars holding up the roof, his mouth rediscovering Ron's eagerly. When the kiss broke, Malfoy turned away quickly, taking to the steps.

"I'm running out of ideas to convince you that I'm still in love with you," he said, and changed into a cat before running back up to the house.

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