Ron's Worst Nightmare
A/N: Sorry this took so long!! Thanx are at the end!!
Chapter Two: La-di-da La-di-da
"What!?" Ron stared at his mother in unmasked horror. He had gone completely white, even his freckles had paled. The twins had gone silent, and Ginny looked like a mannequin, froze with her spoon sticking halfway out of her mouth.
Bill crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his siblings. Mrs. Weasly gave them all stern looks, "Now, he needs help. His father wants to kill him! The poor boy has no where else to go."
"But he's a Malfoy," yelled Ron angrily, standing up. The twins nodded mutely in unison. Ginny calmly set down her spoon and slammed her head on the table.
"Don't speak to me in that tone, young man," warned Mrs. Weasly. Ron pursed his lips, but did not look away from his mother and brother.
Sighing, Bill leaned up against the counter, massaging his temples, "His mother is dead. His father has escaped and is out for his blood." He looked up and gave Ron the most pitiful look and the youngest Weasly boy had to look down at the floor.
Growling and flopping ungracefully back in his chair, Ron made a cringing face, "Where's the slimy git supposed to sleep."
Bill grinned and mussed Ron's hair, "Thatta boy."
"That's not answering my question."
George grinned evilly and looked at his brother, who mirrored his face.
Mrs. Weasly saw this look and shook her finger, "No way, you two. You will not even speak to Draco. Not one word. Or you'll be sorry."
They both looked crestfallen. Usually a warning from their mum wouldn't matter, but the tone was everything. And this one meant business.
"Mum, Bill? Where's he sleeping!?" Ron looked a little panicked.
Ginny moaned, "Mum, you call him by his first name now?"
"Of course, dear. Now eat up and come to Diagon alley with me. I wanted to fit your robes early."
"Will you please answer me!!" Ron was on his feet.
Bill's grin widened and he too stood, "Why, your room of course."
~*~
Draco blinked open his pale eyes and the bright light stabbed at them harshly. He turned his head and threw an arm over his face, shutting out the rays of sunlight.
How the hell did it get so damned light, he growled mentally. Then, trying again, he open his eyes tiny bit by tiny bit and the room in which he lay came into all too sharp focus.
It was orange.
Terribly orange. A kind of orange that would have you despising citrus for the rest of your life.
Orange. Why did that remind him of something?
There were also smells. Cookies and home baked breads. Warmth and faintly- spices. He was wrapped up in a good and homey feeling. Something he wasn't used to in the least.
But where could he be? What had happened?
And why in Icy Hell was he wearing a fluffy lime green bath robe!?
His eyes darted around, taking in all that he saw with a barely controlled panic. The walls had posters of a Quidditch team which looked at him interestedly, whispering to each other. Next to the bed he lay in was a picture of three people. All three looked familiar, but Draco couldn't place them quite right.
One of them had frizzy brown hair and a pretty face. She was sitting in between two boys with a large book in her lap. She wore a yellow sun dress with a wide brimmed hat. A scarf trailed down her torso, tied around her slender neck. She was smiling at him and swinging her legs. Next to the girl sat a somewhat gawky framed boy with unruly black hair and thick rimmed glasses. A lighting bolt scar ran between his brows and enchanting emerald eyes danced with laughter and joy. His arm was around the girl and he was smiling pleasantly.
The last person in the picture was a tall and lanky boy with flaming red hair and warm brown eyes. He mouth was turned up into a charming half smile and eyes crinkled in happiness. His long legs were splayed out in front of him and he was putting bunny ears behind the girl's head.
For some reason, his made Draco feel suddenly lonely. He knew that his mother, the only person who actually made an effort to understand him, was dead. But his father he knew nothing about. His friends, if you could even call them such things, upon hearing what he did, would most likely kill him on sight.
His eyes landed back on the picture and he lifted it gingerly off the table and gazed at it.
Potty, the Mudblood, and Weasel. And as to why they were here, he didn't know. But as to where 'here' was- he didn't know that either.
The room was cluttered with books and various things. A broomstick leaned up against the shockingly orange wall across from the orange blanketed bed. The Quidditch poster of- Draco paused- ah yes, the Chudley Cannons in their orange uniforms.
Worst team in the league weren't they?
"Weasly's favorite," mused Draco. He got up out of the bed, setting the picture back on the table and ran a finger down the side of the poster.
Thinking of Weasly, this whole room practically reeked of him. The team he always talked about, pictures of his friends, school books, family photos, different snacks and food from Hogsmeade, and-
Oh dear God.
His jaw practically hit the floor and his stomach plummeted. Knees buckling, Draco fell to the floor with a strangled cry. The bath robe ruffled around him and settled. The room swam before his eyes, a spinning whirlwind of orange.
This was NOT happening.
Then the door opened and in walked Bill, Albus Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasly and Mr. Weasly, Sirius, and Iris bringing up the rear and looking considerably worse for wear.
They all stood over him with deepest sympathy in their eyes and Draco felt like he was going to be sick all over their shoes. It was an awfully tempting idea. Get them back for doing this.... this.... evil thing to him!
"Draco, how are you feeling?"
That was Dumbledore talking. Draco looked up at him as if in a daze, his mouth was still frozen open.
Mrs. Weasly knelt dow next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pulled him over so that his head was resting on her shoulder and he let her do it with no protest. At the current moment, getting hugged was the least of his problems.
"He should get more rest," said Mrs. Weasly sternly to the Headmaster, absentmindedly stroking his brow and swiping back the silvery hair from his eyes, now closed shut tightly. Dumbledore sighed and nodded. Sirius pursed his lips, but Iris laid a hand on his arm and he was silent.
"Draco? Draco, dear, open your eyes." Mrs. Weasly titled his chin up and when he did open his eyes, he was looking right into her warm brown gaze. He immediately tried to twist away, but found that his strength had ebbed. So he weakly pushed at her arms and she let him go, though a touch reluctantly.
"Where am I?" he asked firmly.
Bill smiled warmly and with a small nod from Dumbledore, spoke.
"You see, Draco, you're father-"
"He is not my father," stated Draco coldly. They stared at him in surprise, but Bill just raised his eyebrows and continued.
"Lucius escaped from one of the Aurors watching him. Killed him. And I'm going to be honest, he's after you. So for the time being, until things clear up, you'll be staying here with me and my family for safekeeping."
"Why here," he croaked out. His silver eyes darkened.
"Because this is the last place any Death Eater would ever think to find you," said Sirius flatly.
There was nothing Draco could say to that. He knew it was true. And he doubted that anything he would do or say could get him out of it.
"I know this may be the wrong time, but Draco, we have the upper hand at the moment so if you know anything more that cold be useful to us...." Dumbledore trailed off, watching him.
"Nothing," mumbled Draco, burying his head in his arms.
The adults looked at each other. Sirius sighed and with a pop, he and Iris Disapparated. Dumbledore, with one last look at Draco, left too.
Mr. Weasly, Mrs. Weasly and Bill stood in the uncomfortable silence and Draco ignored them. He saw his trunks by a closet and wondered what they had packed.
"Well, I think I'll go tend to those cookies," Mrs. Weasly said, trying desperately to sound cheerful. Mr. Weasly nodded and followed her out. And Bill was left, standing there above Draco in silence.
"Why would you do this for me?" he mumbled into his arm.
Bill shrugged and sat down next to the fallen boy. He looked around his brother's room, and than back at Draco and laughed.
Silver eyes burned into his own brown eyes and Draco hissed, "What is so funny?"
"You and the room. Sorry, but you clash horribly and I find it funny. Lime green, silver, and orange do not go together in the least. I'd expect *you* of all people would notice this."
"In my current position, I'm not noticing much of anything," he pointed out icily, and Bill felt uncomfortable again. Malfoys had this kind of feeling that surrounded them that would send chills up your spine.
Changing the subject, Bill stood up and motioned to the suitcases, "How about getting dressed and coming down for breakfast? Mum's a great cook and you need some sort of nutrients. And don't worry, the others are gone."
Hesitantly, Draco rose to his feet. He was about a head or two shorter than the slim Bill and to the older boy looked especially delicate. Bill thought of offering to help him walk, but didn't. Draco did not need to be babied.
"Okay then, see you downstairs."
He left and Draco collapsed to the floor again. His legs shook and his stomach turned. Obviously, he had lost a lot of blood and was still suffering from it. So, slowly but surely, he carefully made his way across the room to his cases and opening them, found a different assortment of robes and clothes. Choosing a simple black garment, he went through the agonizing process of dressing and made his way down the stairs.
Just out of sight of the kitchen, he straightened and held up his head. The Weaslys would not need to see him so weak.
The room was warm and full of delicious smells. Draco's mouth watered as he slid into a chair. Bill sat across from him, brown eyes filled with a sort of brotherly worry.
Draco would've sneered, but before he knew it, a large plate stacked with steaming pancakes was set in front of him. The heavenly aroma wafted up his nose and he forgot about sneering. And to the joy of both Weaslys, dug into the food with a hungry vengeance, not even bothering to add syrup or butter.
In a few minutes, he had devoured each and every one of the soft buttermilk pancakes. To Bill's great surprise, the young Malfoy looked perfectly clean, as if he had just been sitting there doing nothing.
Mrs. Weasly clucked and cooed happily, dishing up more and more. And along with several tall glasses of ice cold milk, Draco consumed more food than Bill had thought possible for one to eat. This boy was like a dream come true to Bill's mother, who had always complained that no one ate heartily any more.
After finishing off his last plate, Draco casually leaned back and put his hands laced behind his blonde head. Then surprisingly, he turned to Mrs. Weasly and thanked her politely. She was beaming as she took away his plate, looking over his head at Bill who was still ogling at the empty plate.
Draco closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. But Bill noticed that the boy's shoulders were still tensed.
He looked a the clock and saw that Ron's hand was on "traveling". Guessing that both Ron and Draco would not like at that moment to meet, he addressed Draco, "Would you like to come with me to London? Get out of this house for a while and out into the fresh air?"
Draco looked back blankly for a moment, his eyes turning. Then he shrugged and stood up. Bill nodded and asked his mother where the Portkey was.
"On top of the mantle in the living room. Now, be careful you two!"
Bill led Draco into the living room and retrieved the portkey. At the same time they touched and felt the familiar jerk in their guts. Soon, they were swirling blindly through the air to London.
Right when they had disappeared, Ron stalked in hesitantly, looking around. Upon seeing no Malfoy about, he walked inside.
"Hello mum. Where's Bill?"
"He and Draco went to London to run some errands for me. Oh, Ron, don't give me that look! Draco is a charming boy and you'll just have to get used to him being here. And you'll get your chance to talk with him later today because I want you boys to go out in the garden to do some de-Gnoming."
"Mum!" Ron whined, dropping into a chair. De-Gnoming the garden with Malfoy who had probably never lifted a finger for himself to do anything?
Bloody hell.
A/N: Okies! Thanx to Clam Chowder: Thank you, really. But I still don't like part 1 that much. Weirdo: Thank you. The idea was just a spontanious thing. Glad you like. Carrie: *looks etremely embarassed* Eep, you're right! Oops. Heh. ^_^ Jazz Goddess: Okay, so maybe by "soon", you meant months? Fee hee. Sara the Green Witch: Oh goodness me! You're right! Oh well, I failed spelling anyhoos. Kimagure: Thank you thank you!! MamaLaz: Oh, yes, us authors! *_~ Thank you so much! fangrlwlotsofideas: I like D/H too. R/D are just a recent craze! WildfireFriendship: Thank you! Sorry I'm such a slow poke. ~_~ LillianaNoelia: Thanx ever so much! PrettyWhenICry: Thank you, I'm really flattered! ^_^ Nagi ;-) OShaRe: What's wrong with going insane? *grin* :^D snowchildSally: Trust me, dearie, they'll take their time! ^_^ Aloria the hyper spy-wizard: Too much violence? TOO MUCH VIOLENCE??!! *thinks* Really? penelope M B.: *giggles* Silly, it IS rated PG-13! And I know there are kids on this sight. What do ya think I am? =^} THANK YOU TO YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! *sob* I feel so loved!
~*Villain*~
A/N: Sorry this took so long!! Thanx are at the end!!
Chapter Two: La-di-da La-di-da
"What!?" Ron stared at his mother in unmasked horror. He had gone completely white, even his freckles had paled. The twins had gone silent, and Ginny looked like a mannequin, froze with her spoon sticking halfway out of her mouth.
Bill crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his siblings. Mrs. Weasly gave them all stern looks, "Now, he needs help. His father wants to kill him! The poor boy has no where else to go."
"But he's a Malfoy," yelled Ron angrily, standing up. The twins nodded mutely in unison. Ginny calmly set down her spoon and slammed her head on the table.
"Don't speak to me in that tone, young man," warned Mrs. Weasly. Ron pursed his lips, but did not look away from his mother and brother.
Sighing, Bill leaned up against the counter, massaging his temples, "His mother is dead. His father has escaped and is out for his blood." He looked up and gave Ron the most pitiful look and the youngest Weasly boy had to look down at the floor.
Growling and flopping ungracefully back in his chair, Ron made a cringing face, "Where's the slimy git supposed to sleep."
Bill grinned and mussed Ron's hair, "Thatta boy."
"That's not answering my question."
George grinned evilly and looked at his brother, who mirrored his face.
Mrs. Weasly saw this look and shook her finger, "No way, you two. You will not even speak to Draco. Not one word. Or you'll be sorry."
They both looked crestfallen. Usually a warning from their mum wouldn't matter, but the tone was everything. And this one meant business.
"Mum, Bill? Where's he sleeping!?" Ron looked a little panicked.
Ginny moaned, "Mum, you call him by his first name now?"
"Of course, dear. Now eat up and come to Diagon alley with me. I wanted to fit your robes early."
"Will you please answer me!!" Ron was on his feet.
Bill's grin widened and he too stood, "Why, your room of course."
~*~
Draco blinked open his pale eyes and the bright light stabbed at them harshly. He turned his head and threw an arm over his face, shutting out the rays of sunlight.
How the hell did it get so damned light, he growled mentally. Then, trying again, he open his eyes tiny bit by tiny bit and the room in which he lay came into all too sharp focus.
It was orange.
Terribly orange. A kind of orange that would have you despising citrus for the rest of your life.
Orange. Why did that remind him of something?
There were also smells. Cookies and home baked breads. Warmth and faintly- spices. He was wrapped up in a good and homey feeling. Something he wasn't used to in the least.
But where could he be? What had happened?
And why in Icy Hell was he wearing a fluffy lime green bath robe!?
His eyes darted around, taking in all that he saw with a barely controlled panic. The walls had posters of a Quidditch team which looked at him interestedly, whispering to each other. Next to the bed he lay in was a picture of three people. All three looked familiar, but Draco couldn't place them quite right.
One of them had frizzy brown hair and a pretty face. She was sitting in between two boys with a large book in her lap. She wore a yellow sun dress with a wide brimmed hat. A scarf trailed down her torso, tied around her slender neck. She was smiling at him and swinging her legs. Next to the girl sat a somewhat gawky framed boy with unruly black hair and thick rimmed glasses. A lighting bolt scar ran between his brows and enchanting emerald eyes danced with laughter and joy. His arm was around the girl and he was smiling pleasantly.
The last person in the picture was a tall and lanky boy with flaming red hair and warm brown eyes. He mouth was turned up into a charming half smile and eyes crinkled in happiness. His long legs were splayed out in front of him and he was putting bunny ears behind the girl's head.
For some reason, his made Draco feel suddenly lonely. He knew that his mother, the only person who actually made an effort to understand him, was dead. But his father he knew nothing about. His friends, if you could even call them such things, upon hearing what he did, would most likely kill him on sight.
His eyes landed back on the picture and he lifted it gingerly off the table and gazed at it.
Potty, the Mudblood, and Weasel. And as to why they were here, he didn't know. But as to where 'here' was- he didn't know that either.
The room was cluttered with books and various things. A broomstick leaned up against the shockingly orange wall across from the orange blanketed bed. The Quidditch poster of- Draco paused- ah yes, the Chudley Cannons in their orange uniforms.
Worst team in the league weren't they?
"Weasly's favorite," mused Draco. He got up out of the bed, setting the picture back on the table and ran a finger down the side of the poster.
Thinking of Weasly, this whole room practically reeked of him. The team he always talked about, pictures of his friends, school books, family photos, different snacks and food from Hogsmeade, and-
Oh dear God.
His jaw practically hit the floor and his stomach plummeted. Knees buckling, Draco fell to the floor with a strangled cry. The bath robe ruffled around him and settled. The room swam before his eyes, a spinning whirlwind of orange.
This was NOT happening.
Then the door opened and in walked Bill, Albus Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasly and Mr. Weasly, Sirius, and Iris bringing up the rear and looking considerably worse for wear.
They all stood over him with deepest sympathy in their eyes and Draco felt like he was going to be sick all over their shoes. It was an awfully tempting idea. Get them back for doing this.... this.... evil thing to him!
"Draco, how are you feeling?"
That was Dumbledore talking. Draco looked up at him as if in a daze, his mouth was still frozen open.
Mrs. Weasly knelt dow next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pulled him over so that his head was resting on her shoulder and he let her do it with no protest. At the current moment, getting hugged was the least of his problems.
"He should get more rest," said Mrs. Weasly sternly to the Headmaster, absentmindedly stroking his brow and swiping back the silvery hair from his eyes, now closed shut tightly. Dumbledore sighed and nodded. Sirius pursed his lips, but Iris laid a hand on his arm and he was silent.
"Draco? Draco, dear, open your eyes." Mrs. Weasly titled his chin up and when he did open his eyes, he was looking right into her warm brown gaze. He immediately tried to twist away, but found that his strength had ebbed. So he weakly pushed at her arms and she let him go, though a touch reluctantly.
"Where am I?" he asked firmly.
Bill smiled warmly and with a small nod from Dumbledore, spoke.
"You see, Draco, you're father-"
"He is not my father," stated Draco coldly. They stared at him in surprise, but Bill just raised his eyebrows and continued.
"Lucius escaped from one of the Aurors watching him. Killed him. And I'm going to be honest, he's after you. So for the time being, until things clear up, you'll be staying here with me and my family for safekeeping."
"Why here," he croaked out. His silver eyes darkened.
"Because this is the last place any Death Eater would ever think to find you," said Sirius flatly.
There was nothing Draco could say to that. He knew it was true. And he doubted that anything he would do or say could get him out of it.
"I know this may be the wrong time, but Draco, we have the upper hand at the moment so if you know anything more that cold be useful to us...." Dumbledore trailed off, watching him.
"Nothing," mumbled Draco, burying his head in his arms.
The adults looked at each other. Sirius sighed and with a pop, he and Iris Disapparated. Dumbledore, with one last look at Draco, left too.
Mr. Weasly, Mrs. Weasly and Bill stood in the uncomfortable silence and Draco ignored them. He saw his trunks by a closet and wondered what they had packed.
"Well, I think I'll go tend to those cookies," Mrs. Weasly said, trying desperately to sound cheerful. Mr. Weasly nodded and followed her out. And Bill was left, standing there above Draco in silence.
"Why would you do this for me?" he mumbled into his arm.
Bill shrugged and sat down next to the fallen boy. He looked around his brother's room, and than back at Draco and laughed.
Silver eyes burned into his own brown eyes and Draco hissed, "What is so funny?"
"You and the room. Sorry, but you clash horribly and I find it funny. Lime green, silver, and orange do not go together in the least. I'd expect *you* of all people would notice this."
"In my current position, I'm not noticing much of anything," he pointed out icily, and Bill felt uncomfortable again. Malfoys had this kind of feeling that surrounded them that would send chills up your spine.
Changing the subject, Bill stood up and motioned to the suitcases, "How about getting dressed and coming down for breakfast? Mum's a great cook and you need some sort of nutrients. And don't worry, the others are gone."
Hesitantly, Draco rose to his feet. He was about a head or two shorter than the slim Bill and to the older boy looked especially delicate. Bill thought of offering to help him walk, but didn't. Draco did not need to be babied.
"Okay then, see you downstairs."
He left and Draco collapsed to the floor again. His legs shook and his stomach turned. Obviously, he had lost a lot of blood and was still suffering from it. So, slowly but surely, he carefully made his way across the room to his cases and opening them, found a different assortment of robes and clothes. Choosing a simple black garment, he went through the agonizing process of dressing and made his way down the stairs.
Just out of sight of the kitchen, he straightened and held up his head. The Weaslys would not need to see him so weak.
The room was warm and full of delicious smells. Draco's mouth watered as he slid into a chair. Bill sat across from him, brown eyes filled with a sort of brotherly worry.
Draco would've sneered, but before he knew it, a large plate stacked with steaming pancakes was set in front of him. The heavenly aroma wafted up his nose and he forgot about sneering. And to the joy of both Weaslys, dug into the food with a hungry vengeance, not even bothering to add syrup or butter.
In a few minutes, he had devoured each and every one of the soft buttermilk pancakes. To Bill's great surprise, the young Malfoy looked perfectly clean, as if he had just been sitting there doing nothing.
Mrs. Weasly clucked and cooed happily, dishing up more and more. And along with several tall glasses of ice cold milk, Draco consumed more food than Bill had thought possible for one to eat. This boy was like a dream come true to Bill's mother, who had always complained that no one ate heartily any more.
After finishing off his last plate, Draco casually leaned back and put his hands laced behind his blonde head. Then surprisingly, he turned to Mrs. Weasly and thanked her politely. She was beaming as she took away his plate, looking over his head at Bill who was still ogling at the empty plate.
Draco closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. But Bill noticed that the boy's shoulders were still tensed.
He looked a the clock and saw that Ron's hand was on "traveling". Guessing that both Ron and Draco would not like at that moment to meet, he addressed Draco, "Would you like to come with me to London? Get out of this house for a while and out into the fresh air?"
Draco looked back blankly for a moment, his eyes turning. Then he shrugged and stood up. Bill nodded and asked his mother where the Portkey was.
"On top of the mantle in the living room. Now, be careful you two!"
Bill led Draco into the living room and retrieved the portkey. At the same time they touched and felt the familiar jerk in their guts. Soon, they were swirling blindly through the air to London.
Right when they had disappeared, Ron stalked in hesitantly, looking around. Upon seeing no Malfoy about, he walked inside.
"Hello mum. Where's Bill?"
"He and Draco went to London to run some errands for me. Oh, Ron, don't give me that look! Draco is a charming boy and you'll just have to get used to him being here. And you'll get your chance to talk with him later today because I want you boys to go out in the garden to do some de-Gnoming."
"Mum!" Ron whined, dropping into a chair. De-Gnoming the garden with Malfoy who had probably never lifted a finger for himself to do anything?
Bloody hell.
A/N: Okies! Thanx to Clam Chowder: Thank you, really. But I still don't like part 1 that much. Weirdo: Thank you. The idea was just a spontanious thing. Glad you like. Carrie: *looks etremely embarassed* Eep, you're right! Oops. Heh. ^_^ Jazz Goddess: Okay, so maybe by "soon", you meant months? Fee hee. Sara the Green Witch: Oh goodness me! You're right! Oh well, I failed spelling anyhoos. Kimagure: Thank you thank you!! MamaLaz: Oh, yes, us authors! *_~ Thank you so much! fangrlwlotsofideas: I like D/H too. R/D are just a recent craze! WildfireFriendship: Thank you! Sorry I'm such a slow poke. ~_~ LillianaNoelia: Thanx ever so much! PrettyWhenICry: Thank you, I'm really flattered! ^_^ Nagi ;-) OShaRe: What's wrong with going insane? *grin* :^D snowchildSally: Trust me, dearie, they'll take their time! ^_^ Aloria the hyper spy-wizard: Too much violence? TOO MUCH VIOLENCE??!! *thinks* Really? penelope M B.: *giggles* Silly, it IS rated PG-13! And I know there are kids on this sight. What do ya think I am? =^} THANK YOU TO YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! *sob* I feel so loved!
~*Villain*~