Ron's Worst Nightmare
A/N: This chap contains Brittany Bashing. So I shall just warn you now, my pretties. Mwahaha!
THANKS TO Chimarical: *laughs* WELL, we deffinitely know where your vote lies then! WildfireFriendship: Thank you, love. I will be writing more till the very end! *_~ melodie: Thank you, dearie. *grins* Hana-chan: Glad you're happy with the "subtle" shower seen! ^_^ +shwarz: I know! Aren't people who like D/H, but not R/D nutsos? fangrlwlotsofideas: Eep! *kissles* Goldbryn the Aliem Frog: *beams* Thank you, thank you! Jack Flinch: Thank you, dearest. *kiss* Polaris: Aw, shucks! Fauna: You know, Draccie poosles *was* made for this! And Snape (if I remember) will try and make a cameo. LillianaNoelia: *rushes as fast as can to write* You HAVE to update! Noooooo! (*_~) Hee. J@nine: Snogging? What snogging is this? Hee, j/k. Snogging will be coming up soon, love! Eriol: Thank you so much, I'm flattered. THANKS TO YOU ALL!! YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!! AARGH!
Chapter Six: A Truce of Sorts
Draco woke up nestled blissfully in Ron's warm embrace. He blinked then shut his eyes again, not wanting to face the sun just yet, only to stay here forever.... But he couldn't do that and his stomach was grumbling anyway. So, rubbing his eyes groggily and yawning, he sat up and looked back down at Weasly, who lay there sleeping as innocently as a new born babe. Draco smiled as Ron rolled over, murmuring sweet nothings quietly. Somehow though, something was different. What was it? He swung his legs over the bed side away from Weasly. Wait. Away from Weasly?
The spell!
At that moment Ron stirred and opened his tired eyes to gaze up at Draco sleepily. The Slytherin gazed right back, eyes wide and turning with veins of silvery light and tiny flecks of white from the sun. Ron realized that Malfoy had noticed their divide and swore inwardly. It was not especially good to have Malfoy wake up in his arms was it? Oy, that probably needed some explaining to it. He winced as Draco turned to fully face him, his hair ruffled, mouth partly open. The blonde was the perfect picture of angelic innocence.
"So, what does this mean then, Weasly?"
Ron looked back at him, mirroring the blonde's look of bashful wonderment. He didn't know what it meant for the life of him, but it meant *something*. It had to, for he felt it happen last night when the spell broke, a small tinge in his chest.
"I don't know. Do you- do you remember last night? I mean, what happened?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably, "I know I mentioned my father. Then fell asleep.... in your arms. But-" He faltered, looking inquisitively at Ron, who looked like he was concentrating very hard on something. He arched a white eyebrow and crossed his arms.
Ron growled angrily and gripped the sides of his head, "My brain hurts! Summer really isn't meant for contemplating difficult situations. Aaurgh." He grinned sheepishly up at Malfoy.
Now, several biting insults spun about his head and tumbled down into his mouth, trembling on the tip of his tongue. But for some strange and bazaar reason, he swallowed them right back up. It just didn't seem right to do at the moment and he was shocked at the realization. Many times before at Hogwarts he had been lectured on "thinking before you speak". Always he thought it much too petty and thoughtful for his precious time. A waste. Yet here he was, holding back the insults on his most hated enemy. Hated? He just didn't know as he perfunctorily smiled back at Weasly.
Ron's expression froze. Malfoy was smiling. At him. At something he, Ronald Weasly, had said. Quickly, he pinched himself.
"Ouch!"
Draco's smile fell, "Why did you do that?"
"You're smiling at me."
Malfoy glared at him, offended, "Yeah?"
"Well, it just seems a little odd for you to do. That's all. I didn't really mean anything by it, just... Well." He sat up and scratched his head, "You hungry?"
Before Draco could even open his mouth, his stomach gurgled loudly. Ron laughed, "I'll take that as a yes. C'mon, I smell eggs and bacon."
Downstairs, their places were already set. As far from each other as possible. Ginny looked up warily from her food and glowered darkly at the silver haired boy following her brother into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasly smiled at them pleasantly, "Good morning, dears. Bill had told me the spell was broken, sit down now. Eat up."
They obeyed and sat, trading looks across the table. Ginny was still glaring at Draco, when he turned to her and blinked. Flushing furiously, she ducked her head and shoveled eggs into her mouth, cleaning the plate in an instant and dashing from the table in a rush. He watched her leave with amusement dancing in his eyes.
Ron looked at him brightly, taking a drink of his orange juice, "We'll have to go de gnoming again, eh Mum?" He grinned at Draco, who gave him a wry smile in return, winking. Mrs. Weasly beamed at them as she answered her son, "Most certainly, young man. Then you can go out and play Quidditch if you like. You can use the twin's brooms."
As they ate, both boys would constantly look up and lock eyes for a fleeting second, then look hurriedly back down in confusion. It felt so strange to be apart after having to be stuck together like that. And Draco felt like a piece of him was gone, kind of empty. Ron felt the same but neither said anything about it. For neither knew what terms they stood on yet.
There were hardly any gnomes at all in the weedy garden and after throwing just a few nasty little buggers over the fence, Ron showed Draco to the shed where they kept the brooms, as well as Mr. Weasly's aprehended muggle objects.
"This is interesting," said Draco, holding up a Brittany Spears doll. Ron shuddered and Draco burst out laughing as he touched the dolls face, "Bloody Mary, she has Tarantula eyes!"
Ron blanched and took a couple of steps away from the doll. Draco looked at him questioningly before throwing the doll into the pile he had grabbed it from, "No need to be scared, Weasly. I know it's hideously ugly beyond imagination, but it's only a doll. Just think, there's the real thing still out there, living and brainwashing poor little girls." Ron just shook his head and grabbed the brooms.
They moved for the door, Draco still looking interestedly about, when Ron screeched and leapt about ten feet into the air, hurtling himself backwards into Draco, who clumsily caught the red head and stumbled back. On the door sat a huge and hungry looking Hobo spider. It was sitting on it's web, contentedly spinning a fly. As Draco scanned the whole door, he noticed several others. Just little spiders. But Ron was really freaking out, his arms thrown around Draco's neck tightly and actually up and cupped in Draco arms like a damsel in distress in the arms of a knight.
Surprisingly, he was quite light and Draco had no trouble holding him there, it was just rather odd of the Gryffindor to act so strange around several little spiders.
Gradually, as the spiders sat there, Ron let himself down out of Draco's hold and ran around behind the shorter boy, clinging to his robes.
"Ooh, kill them! Please Malfoy, just squish them or something! Gaa!"
Draco's mouth dropped. Of course, he had forgotten Weasly's violent fear of spiders. He rolled his eyes, casually walking up to the arachnids and shooing them with gentle hands off the door. They were just tiny things and he didn't feel like squishing them. After all, they had done nothing wrong. And they crawled away without any fuss. He even caught a few earwigs and stuck them in the webs for the little guys.
After Ron made him check the door about five times for any more spiders, he opened it and they went outside. Ron was clutching the brooms to his chest and breathing hard like he had just been....
"Screw those spiders," he snapped angrily. Draco raised his eyebrows, staying silent as he was handed a broom. It was definitely an old model, but he kept his mouth shut. Weasly looked awfully peeved at the moment. Who knew that our friendly eight eyed friends would have such an effect on a boy of Ron's age and stature.
They went out into the wide field next to the Weasly's house. Ron went over to a crudely made goal post and looked inside a trash can marked QUIDDITCH GEAR. When he looked inside, he swore and kicked at the can. It rung sharply into the still air and Draco guessed immediately what had happened even as Ron spat the cursed word, "Gnomes!"
"We can just fly," suggested Draco. He hadn't flown in so long. His father had taken away his broom after he told him that he wasn't sure about becoming a Death Eater. Lucius had been so angry with him then. He shuddered and shut his eyes tightly at the memory, knuckles turning white over his grip on the broom handle.
Ron, seeing Draco's features contract into a look of distant pain, forgot his own anger and approached the other boy in concern. Draco opened his eyes and looked at him measuredly. Ron immediately backed off, almost sensing Malfoy's repose to the subject of which had made him shiver. Wordlessly, the red head nodded and mounted his broom. Draco followed and they kicked off together.
To be flying again hit Draco like a shot of pure life energy. His sprit soured along with the wind whipping through his hair and cloak. For a fleeting moment, he closed his eyes again, the stinging wind drawing tears from his eyes and causing the tears to slide in tiny rivulets down his cheeks. He opened them to see Ron flying almost right beside him. The other wizard looked as happy as he did to be so high up in the air, flashing past trees and over houses and yards. Streaks of moonbeam and fire.
Ahead there was a huge cloud bank and at the same moment, they locked eyes and grinned, kicking forward and diving full tilt into the white world of condensed air.
As they burst out the other side, mist swirling around them in tendrils of glittering water droplets, Draco laughed out loud. He swung around and skimmed the side of the massive form, dipping his hand into the fluffy whiteness and soaking the skin. His hair and clothes clung to him and he shook his head as Ron ripped out of the cloud right in front of him.
Weasly's hair was like it had been in the shower, slicked back and only a few loose curls flying free. Draco could see every line in the taller boy's back and the muscles turning beneath the freckled as he moved on his broom to switch direction. His black robes sat as a second skin over his body.
The two boys weaved in and out of the cloud for another few minutes before Ron yelled over the rushing wind that Draco's lips were blue. Amusement dancing in his eyes, Draco called back that Ron's ears were maroon. Ron gagged. He hated maroon!
They alighted in a small clearing beside a bubbling brook in the small forest between the houses. The stream sang along the rocks and Draco set the broom against a tree and looked at his reflection in a still pool outside the current. He looked very cold and very wet. The sunlight shone on his drenched hair, turning it into a molten silver. Ron came up beside him, wringing out his robes and muttering. He caught sight of his reflection and squeaked, "Eep! I'll be a fuzz ball by lunch!" Running his hands stressfully over his hair, already frizzing out dangerously, he sat down, long legs splayed out in front of him, pouting irrisistably with his lower lip jutted out deliciously.
Draco looked at his own hair and rubbed his palms over it, shaking out the moister. When he was satisfied, it stood out in all directions in a style that most boys took hours trying to perfect with gallons and gallons of gel. He smiled and turned back to Weasly.
And instantly fell to the ground in fits of howling laughter.
Ron huffed grumpily and tried desperately to cover his head. Well, to cover his bright orange afro to be precise. For it was true, standing out from his head on a curly ball of seventies style fluff. Oh, so ever groovy baby!
"At least I don't look like some pretty boy punk," he growled, patting his head and glaring at the offensive boy still rolling on the ground and wheezing with mirth. And at his words, Draco only laughed harder, his face flushing to a deep pink and staining his cheeks a rosy red. It clashed horribly with his fading blue lips and Ron himself began to laugh.
Sitting up and trying to wipe the wet dirt from his robes, Draco shook his head at the blaring ball of Weasly red. His lips had gone back to their pale pink and cheeks were now back to their normal pallor. Ron though, was red with frustration and still tried valiantly to flatten his hair out. Draco rolled his eyes, "Let me do it, Weasly." He sauntered over and tipped Ron's face upwards, pressing his hand against the middle of Ron's head. He managed to flatten a row, straight down the middle, of Ron's hair before the red headed disco ball shook him off. "You're only making it worse! Oh GOD!"
As he looked with a horrified expression into the swirling water, Draco shrugged. Ron now looked like he had a backwards mohawk. Or perhaps Larry of the Three Stooges.
Whichever it was, it looked funnier than before. But Draco held back his laughter when Ron dipped his hands into the pool and threw three fistfuls of water over the failed hairstylist. Then the red head ducked as a huge pine cone was aimed at his head.
Ron grinned cockily, "You miss-" But was suddenly cut off as Draco tackled him backwards with giggles and they were both pitched back into the water. Feeling his hair, Ron sighed, "Well then, that's better!"
Starting to strip off his robes as Ron felt his hair, Draco set them on the bank to dry. Then, clad only in his boxers, he dove under the water and snuck up behind Ron.
"Hmm, good idea, Malfoy, I'll put mine out, too. Malfoy? Where are- Yikes!!!" Ron leapt out of the water with a frantic squeak as Draco resurfaced, giggling like a school girl. Ron glared at him without much conviction and rubbed his bum where Draco had mercilessly pinched it.
Smirking, Ron said levelly, "Now who's trying to grope who, eh Malfoy?" But Draco only grinned and suck halfway into the water so that only the upper part of his face was showing, daring Ron to come and play.
Stripping down the rest of the way to his undergarments, Ron dove into the water with a whoop and the splashing fight began.
Hours later, dry and tanning, Draco began humming to himself as Ron switched to lying on his back. His skin had darkened partly and now Ron was a nice crisp golden brown as Draco had slightly darkened to what would be a normal tint of someone's complexion in the dead of winter.
Ron squinted up into the blazing sun and covered his eyes, "I wish the sun wasn't so damned bright."
"Actually it doesn't have to be," said Draco, rolling partly over and reaching over to the pile of his clothes and into his robe pockets, pulling out his wand. Then he pointed it at his eyes and murmured, "Glanate." He blinked and his eyes moistened with tears, but he was looking around without squinting. "It's like a spell for muggle sunglasses. But it only lasts for about two hours or so." Ron let him perform the spell on his eyes, and then leaned back, sighing.
They lapsed back into silence and Draco picked a long blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on the end. Ron rolled over again onto his stomach, resting his head on his folded arms. Draco glanced at him sideways, the blade of grass bending gently in the warm breeze. Ron looked back and met his companions gaze measuredly. Then Draco turned his head and shut his eyes, settling down next to Ron on his back.
Ron watched him a moment longer before turning over on his own back. Then he looked over at Malfoy again and noticed something that sent chills down his spine on the blonde boy's arm.
"When did you get that?" he whispered, pointing at the Dark Mark standing out on Malfoy's skin like a star against the clear night sky. Draco looked down at it and said flippantly, "My dad just wouldn't accept my decision not to become what he is: A Death Eater." He looked over at Ron, leaning up on his elbow and turning his whole body on its side. Ron looked away, uncomfortable with his straightforwardness, "Oh."
"It's nothing to be afraid of, Weasly."
Now the mild brown eyes rose, "I'm not afraid. It's just how you talk about it, to be honest."
That delicate brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"
Ron suddenly looked shifty, "I don't know, like it's no big deal. Yeah, my dad marked me as a Death Eater, but you know, that's okay." He gave at sad smile and Draco frowned, "I don't sound like that."
"Yeah, you do. Does it even bother you at all? Or can you just hide your emotions?" He peered closely at Draco, as if trying to see through him. Draco leaned back, glaring, "Maybe it's that *you* show too much of your emotions."
"Is that bad?" Ron leaned back again, "I mean, when you're just impassive all the time, no one can tell what you're thinking and whether you mean what you say or not."
"I'm impassive," said Draco scoffingly. Ron nodded, "You are! The only emotion you have ever shown for as long as I've known you is spite."
"Maybe that is all I feel."
"No, that's not true," Ron shook his head, "I know that's not it."
Silver eyes narrowed, "How would you know anyway, Weasly?"
Ron blushed slightly, "Last night." He said it as if it explained everything. And it did as Draco thought about it.
"Well, I can't help but be the way I am," shrugged Draco nonchalantly, watching the Gryffindor interestedly.
"Yeah, but maybe if you showed more, than people wouldn't always think you so cold." Ron gazed straight into his eyes now, sincerely. Draco suddenly felt disgusted with the big hearted Gryffindor trying to solve all his problems for him.
"Why do you even care! My problems are my own, I don't need pity from some Gryffindor," he hissed. But his expression immediately softened as Ron took on a hurt look. Maybe he does care, he thought with surprise.
"Look, Weasly, I'm just not used to people being so nice to me," he said quietly with some difficulty. "I've always been told to hide everything from everyone. Emotion is for the weak."
Ron bit his lip, "Is that what your dad told you?"
Draco's face clouded over, "Yes."
Facing the Slytherin fully, Ron looked at him hard, "Why do you hate him so much, Malfoy? What did he do?"
The woods seemed to have silenced around them. Even the brook had gone quiet. Their gazes were locked and Ron could see so many emotions flickering through the mercury depths of Draco's eyes. Hatred, rage, fear, distrust, anger, loss. But he did not look away, he must know.
"My father is a heartless bastard who will destroy anything or anyone who is in his path to power. To him, I'm just a tool. Just a tool for his own ends." He unconsciously gripped his stomach as his eyes went slightly misty, "You really don't want to know, Weasly."
Taking the hint, Ron backed off. They were quiet for what seemed like an eternity, before Draco clicked out of his reverie and and said, "So, what do you mean by last night? The whole more than spite thing. What did you mean?" He met Ron's gaze bashfully and for the first time, Ron felt that he was on the same level as Ma- Draco. No one was better, they were just two young boys dealing with the issues of growing up. They both had their fears, their loves, their problems. And perhaps, in each other, they could find solace.
Ron wasn't sure where all these feelings were coming from, but he answered Draco with more confidence than he felt on the subject, "When we fell asleep- together- you didn't hate me then. I didn't feel it. And besides, that's when the spell broke. We felt fine with each other. Close to each other." Wait a minute, where did that last line come from?
Draco's eyes had gone large and he looked the innocent Angel again. He was watching Ron with his breath held. What was Weasly getting at?
"And, look at us now! I mean, we haven't really fought all day. Think about it." Draco did, and Ron was right.
To the surprise of the both of them, Draco actually smiled at Ron and said, "You're right, Weasly."
Ron beamed and then went solemn and asked meekly, "Do you hate me, still?"
Draco's brow furrowed and he thought a moment. Then, seeing Ron's face, he shrugged, "No, I don't. I'm not sure I ever did now that I think about it."
Ron sighed with relief, then looked back questioningly, "Than why?"
"Some other time, Weasly. Isn't it enough that you have me smiling!? Think of what that does to my rep!"
Ron grinned, "What's wrong with that? You look better when you smile anyway." He lay back, not quite realizing what he said, and closed his eyes. Draco watched him for a few moments longer, thinking, then settled back beside his..... what? Friend? No. Not yet. Or maybe he should just ask. They were being awfully honest with each other, why not?
He looked at Ron again. No, not yet. Why make this uncomfortable again for the both of them? So he just lay back beside his.... companion, and fell into a light slumber.
"Malfoy, Malfoy!"
"Mrrrmph."
Ron laughed and poked Draco in the ribs. The Slytherin curled up in a ball and nipped at the giggling Gryffindor's fingers, "No, no tickling."
"Aw, you're no fun. But anyway, we need to start back or mum will think we killed each other."
"I just might, Weasly, if you don't stop bloody poking me!"
"Then get up, or the poking ensues."
"You are such a git."
"That's an understatement."
Draco peaked open one eye to see Ron fully clothed and sitting cross-legged next to him, poking him with his finger in the side. Which tickled terribly. And with wonderful self control, Draco kept from giggling insanely and pinwheeling his arms in a helpless defense.
"Glad you've realized it, too. Now sod off before I dump you in the stream and give you another afro." With that, Ron stood up and tossed Draco's clothes to him, chuckling, "Well, *somebody's* a morning person!"
"It's after noon. And besides, like I told you last night, Weasly, I am not a morning person."
"Grumpy, grumpy grumpy!" sang Ron happily, grabbing Draco's arms and dragging him to his feet.
"Sod off, sod off, sod off!" Draco wrenched away from the taller boy and immediately collapsed in a heap on the ground, still considerably tired. Ron sighed and sat on his broom, levitating a few feet in the air.
When Draco had finally gotten dressed and mounted his broom, he was fully awake and a note happier than before.
They had a race back to the house, which Draco won. Then he had to put the brooms back in the shed, for Ron refused to go near it, and then they headed back up to Ron's bedroom.
"Might as well changed out of these grubby clothes," said Ron, trying in vain to wipe the clods of dirt off. Draco nodded and they stripped.
"Now, where are my underwear?" asked Draco inquiringly with hands on hips. He stood in the middle of the room in his boxers, looking around. Ron watched him from the bed with amusement and the Slytherin caught the glint of mischief in the eyes of the Gryffindor and growled, "Weasly, give back my underwear!"
Ron clutched the underwear and danced gleefully out of the small boy's reach. Draco rolled his eyes and lunged at them as the mischievous red head dangled them before his nose.
"Damn you, Weasly! Never EVER get between a man and his underpants. Or there'll be Hell to pay! Because that is just too close for my taste!" He tackled Ron and grabbed the underwear. They had a small tug of war, until Draco finally wrenched them from Ron's grasp, beaming triumphantly.
"Ha! Now I have you grinning! Yay for me!" Ron bounced around excitedly, clapping his hands. Draco just laughed and shook his head, looking at his underwear. Then the grin was wiped off his face as he screeched in horror, "You stretched my *Calvin Klien* undies! Oy, you're going to get it for this, Weasly!" Before Ron had a chance to run, the boxer clad Slytherin shot at him, a streak of silver lighting.
In an instant they were wrestling on the bed, mercilessly tickling each other until Ron called uncle.
Draco sat back, smirking with smugness. Then he changed into his clean- if somewhat bigger- underwear and robes. Ron still lay on the bed, gasping for breath and laughing. Then, he sat up brightly and stated matter o' factly, "You know, Malfoy, it's not so bad having you around. You should act like this at school. Everyone would get such a kick out of it."
At the mention of Hogwarts, Draco frowned and Ron caught it, looking concerned, "What's wrong?"
Groaning, Draco sat on the bed beside him, "What am I supposed to do back at school? Everyone in Slytherin will accuse me of being a traitor. Which I am really, to my bloodline." He ignored Ron's indignant snort and continued, "Plus, several of the loyals will have plots to kill me no doubt. Or take me back to my father." Again, at the mention of his father, his face darkened and a mournful tone took his voice. Ron wanted to somehow comfort him, but did not know how.
They got quiet, as they always did when Lucius Malfoy was mentioned. Draco got up and walked over to the window, leaning heavily on the sill and gazing fixedly over the expanse of the fields beyond the yard. He looked suddenly older, sadder, and lonely. Making up his mind, Ron hopped up joined him at the window, "Do you want to talk about it? You can trust me, you know."
Draco turned slightly and regarded him indifferently, "Can I?"
"Yes," said Ron with passion. But Draco just turned back to look out of the window and Ron knew that nothing would be shared.
That night, in bed, in the dark, Draco turned to Ron and asked what happened last night.
"I don't know. But," he hesitated, "it feels kinda weird. Not being connected." He waited tensely for Draco's reply.
"Yeah." It was faint, but it was there and Ron smiled, obviously relieved.
Ron was the first to fall asleep this night and Draco was glad of it. He pictured the Gryffindor lying there, pale strawberry blonde lashes tracing tiny shadows over his freckle powdered cheeks. The fiery red hair settled messily about his head in a scarlet halo and pink lips pursed slightly with sleep.
His own eyelids grew heavy and Draco drifted off into the land of dreams. And as the full moon rose in all it's silvery brilliance over the slumbering wizards, both bodies moved closer, fitting perfectly, seeking the connection that had been lost. They both settled down and a small sigh slipped past Draco's lips as he snuggled down into Ron's arms and the red head drew them up around the slim figure.
And the only witness was the starry eyed man in the moon.
A/N: Okay peeps, how am I handling this? Are they taking long enough? Too long? I just would like your pov on how this is going. No, not the concept- we all love that- but I mean the time, the attitudes, ect. Thanx, it would really mean a lot to me. *huggles*
~*Villain*~
A/N: This chap contains Brittany Bashing. So I shall just warn you now, my pretties. Mwahaha!
THANKS TO Chimarical: *laughs* WELL, we deffinitely know where your vote lies then! WildfireFriendship: Thank you, love. I will be writing more till the very end! *_~ melodie: Thank you, dearie. *grins* Hana-chan: Glad you're happy with the "subtle" shower seen! ^_^ +shwarz: I know! Aren't people who like D/H, but not R/D nutsos? fangrlwlotsofideas: Eep! *kissles* Goldbryn the Aliem Frog: *beams* Thank you, thank you! Jack Flinch: Thank you, dearest. *kiss* Polaris: Aw, shucks! Fauna: You know, Draccie poosles *was* made for this! And Snape (if I remember) will try and make a cameo. LillianaNoelia: *rushes as fast as can to write* You HAVE to update! Noooooo! (*_~) Hee. J@nine: Snogging? What snogging is this? Hee, j/k. Snogging will be coming up soon, love! Eriol: Thank you so much, I'm flattered. THANKS TO YOU ALL!! YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!! AARGH!
Chapter Six: A Truce of Sorts
Draco woke up nestled blissfully in Ron's warm embrace. He blinked then shut his eyes again, not wanting to face the sun just yet, only to stay here forever.... But he couldn't do that and his stomach was grumbling anyway. So, rubbing his eyes groggily and yawning, he sat up and looked back down at Weasly, who lay there sleeping as innocently as a new born babe. Draco smiled as Ron rolled over, murmuring sweet nothings quietly. Somehow though, something was different. What was it? He swung his legs over the bed side away from Weasly. Wait. Away from Weasly?
The spell!
At that moment Ron stirred and opened his tired eyes to gaze up at Draco sleepily. The Slytherin gazed right back, eyes wide and turning with veins of silvery light and tiny flecks of white from the sun. Ron realized that Malfoy had noticed their divide and swore inwardly. It was not especially good to have Malfoy wake up in his arms was it? Oy, that probably needed some explaining to it. He winced as Draco turned to fully face him, his hair ruffled, mouth partly open. The blonde was the perfect picture of angelic innocence.
"So, what does this mean then, Weasly?"
Ron looked back at him, mirroring the blonde's look of bashful wonderment. He didn't know what it meant for the life of him, but it meant *something*. It had to, for he felt it happen last night when the spell broke, a small tinge in his chest.
"I don't know. Do you- do you remember last night? I mean, what happened?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably, "I know I mentioned my father. Then fell asleep.... in your arms. But-" He faltered, looking inquisitively at Ron, who looked like he was concentrating very hard on something. He arched a white eyebrow and crossed his arms.
Ron growled angrily and gripped the sides of his head, "My brain hurts! Summer really isn't meant for contemplating difficult situations. Aaurgh." He grinned sheepishly up at Malfoy.
Now, several biting insults spun about his head and tumbled down into his mouth, trembling on the tip of his tongue. But for some strange and bazaar reason, he swallowed them right back up. It just didn't seem right to do at the moment and he was shocked at the realization. Many times before at Hogwarts he had been lectured on "thinking before you speak". Always he thought it much too petty and thoughtful for his precious time. A waste. Yet here he was, holding back the insults on his most hated enemy. Hated? He just didn't know as he perfunctorily smiled back at Weasly.
Ron's expression froze. Malfoy was smiling. At him. At something he, Ronald Weasly, had said. Quickly, he pinched himself.
"Ouch!"
Draco's smile fell, "Why did you do that?"
"You're smiling at me."
Malfoy glared at him, offended, "Yeah?"
"Well, it just seems a little odd for you to do. That's all. I didn't really mean anything by it, just... Well." He sat up and scratched his head, "You hungry?"
Before Draco could even open his mouth, his stomach gurgled loudly. Ron laughed, "I'll take that as a yes. C'mon, I smell eggs and bacon."
Downstairs, their places were already set. As far from each other as possible. Ginny looked up warily from her food and glowered darkly at the silver haired boy following her brother into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasly smiled at them pleasantly, "Good morning, dears. Bill had told me the spell was broken, sit down now. Eat up."
They obeyed and sat, trading looks across the table. Ginny was still glaring at Draco, when he turned to her and blinked. Flushing furiously, she ducked her head and shoveled eggs into her mouth, cleaning the plate in an instant and dashing from the table in a rush. He watched her leave with amusement dancing in his eyes.
Ron looked at him brightly, taking a drink of his orange juice, "We'll have to go de gnoming again, eh Mum?" He grinned at Draco, who gave him a wry smile in return, winking. Mrs. Weasly beamed at them as she answered her son, "Most certainly, young man. Then you can go out and play Quidditch if you like. You can use the twin's brooms."
As they ate, both boys would constantly look up and lock eyes for a fleeting second, then look hurriedly back down in confusion. It felt so strange to be apart after having to be stuck together like that. And Draco felt like a piece of him was gone, kind of empty. Ron felt the same but neither said anything about it. For neither knew what terms they stood on yet.
There were hardly any gnomes at all in the weedy garden and after throwing just a few nasty little buggers over the fence, Ron showed Draco to the shed where they kept the brooms, as well as Mr. Weasly's aprehended muggle objects.
"This is interesting," said Draco, holding up a Brittany Spears doll. Ron shuddered and Draco burst out laughing as he touched the dolls face, "Bloody Mary, she has Tarantula eyes!"
Ron blanched and took a couple of steps away from the doll. Draco looked at him questioningly before throwing the doll into the pile he had grabbed it from, "No need to be scared, Weasly. I know it's hideously ugly beyond imagination, but it's only a doll. Just think, there's the real thing still out there, living and brainwashing poor little girls." Ron just shook his head and grabbed the brooms.
They moved for the door, Draco still looking interestedly about, when Ron screeched and leapt about ten feet into the air, hurtling himself backwards into Draco, who clumsily caught the red head and stumbled back. On the door sat a huge and hungry looking Hobo spider. It was sitting on it's web, contentedly spinning a fly. As Draco scanned the whole door, he noticed several others. Just little spiders. But Ron was really freaking out, his arms thrown around Draco's neck tightly and actually up and cupped in Draco arms like a damsel in distress in the arms of a knight.
Surprisingly, he was quite light and Draco had no trouble holding him there, it was just rather odd of the Gryffindor to act so strange around several little spiders.
Gradually, as the spiders sat there, Ron let himself down out of Draco's hold and ran around behind the shorter boy, clinging to his robes.
"Ooh, kill them! Please Malfoy, just squish them or something! Gaa!"
Draco's mouth dropped. Of course, he had forgotten Weasly's violent fear of spiders. He rolled his eyes, casually walking up to the arachnids and shooing them with gentle hands off the door. They were just tiny things and he didn't feel like squishing them. After all, they had done nothing wrong. And they crawled away without any fuss. He even caught a few earwigs and stuck them in the webs for the little guys.
After Ron made him check the door about five times for any more spiders, he opened it and they went outside. Ron was clutching the brooms to his chest and breathing hard like he had just been....
"Screw those spiders," he snapped angrily. Draco raised his eyebrows, staying silent as he was handed a broom. It was definitely an old model, but he kept his mouth shut. Weasly looked awfully peeved at the moment. Who knew that our friendly eight eyed friends would have such an effect on a boy of Ron's age and stature.
They went out into the wide field next to the Weasly's house. Ron went over to a crudely made goal post and looked inside a trash can marked QUIDDITCH GEAR. When he looked inside, he swore and kicked at the can. It rung sharply into the still air and Draco guessed immediately what had happened even as Ron spat the cursed word, "Gnomes!"
"We can just fly," suggested Draco. He hadn't flown in so long. His father had taken away his broom after he told him that he wasn't sure about becoming a Death Eater. Lucius had been so angry with him then. He shuddered and shut his eyes tightly at the memory, knuckles turning white over his grip on the broom handle.
Ron, seeing Draco's features contract into a look of distant pain, forgot his own anger and approached the other boy in concern. Draco opened his eyes and looked at him measuredly. Ron immediately backed off, almost sensing Malfoy's repose to the subject of which had made him shiver. Wordlessly, the red head nodded and mounted his broom. Draco followed and they kicked off together.
To be flying again hit Draco like a shot of pure life energy. His sprit soured along with the wind whipping through his hair and cloak. For a fleeting moment, he closed his eyes again, the stinging wind drawing tears from his eyes and causing the tears to slide in tiny rivulets down his cheeks. He opened them to see Ron flying almost right beside him. The other wizard looked as happy as he did to be so high up in the air, flashing past trees and over houses and yards. Streaks of moonbeam and fire.
Ahead there was a huge cloud bank and at the same moment, they locked eyes and grinned, kicking forward and diving full tilt into the white world of condensed air.
As they burst out the other side, mist swirling around them in tendrils of glittering water droplets, Draco laughed out loud. He swung around and skimmed the side of the massive form, dipping his hand into the fluffy whiteness and soaking the skin. His hair and clothes clung to him and he shook his head as Ron ripped out of the cloud right in front of him.
Weasly's hair was like it had been in the shower, slicked back and only a few loose curls flying free. Draco could see every line in the taller boy's back and the muscles turning beneath the freckled as he moved on his broom to switch direction. His black robes sat as a second skin over his body.
The two boys weaved in and out of the cloud for another few minutes before Ron yelled over the rushing wind that Draco's lips were blue. Amusement dancing in his eyes, Draco called back that Ron's ears were maroon. Ron gagged. He hated maroon!
They alighted in a small clearing beside a bubbling brook in the small forest between the houses. The stream sang along the rocks and Draco set the broom against a tree and looked at his reflection in a still pool outside the current. He looked very cold and very wet. The sunlight shone on his drenched hair, turning it into a molten silver. Ron came up beside him, wringing out his robes and muttering. He caught sight of his reflection and squeaked, "Eep! I'll be a fuzz ball by lunch!" Running his hands stressfully over his hair, already frizzing out dangerously, he sat down, long legs splayed out in front of him, pouting irrisistably with his lower lip jutted out deliciously.
Draco looked at his own hair and rubbed his palms over it, shaking out the moister. When he was satisfied, it stood out in all directions in a style that most boys took hours trying to perfect with gallons and gallons of gel. He smiled and turned back to Weasly.
And instantly fell to the ground in fits of howling laughter.
Ron huffed grumpily and tried desperately to cover his head. Well, to cover his bright orange afro to be precise. For it was true, standing out from his head on a curly ball of seventies style fluff. Oh, so ever groovy baby!
"At least I don't look like some pretty boy punk," he growled, patting his head and glaring at the offensive boy still rolling on the ground and wheezing with mirth. And at his words, Draco only laughed harder, his face flushing to a deep pink and staining his cheeks a rosy red. It clashed horribly with his fading blue lips and Ron himself began to laugh.
Sitting up and trying to wipe the wet dirt from his robes, Draco shook his head at the blaring ball of Weasly red. His lips had gone back to their pale pink and cheeks were now back to their normal pallor. Ron though, was red with frustration and still tried valiantly to flatten his hair out. Draco rolled his eyes, "Let me do it, Weasly." He sauntered over and tipped Ron's face upwards, pressing his hand against the middle of Ron's head. He managed to flatten a row, straight down the middle, of Ron's hair before the red headed disco ball shook him off. "You're only making it worse! Oh GOD!"
As he looked with a horrified expression into the swirling water, Draco shrugged. Ron now looked like he had a backwards mohawk. Or perhaps Larry of the Three Stooges.
Whichever it was, it looked funnier than before. But Draco held back his laughter when Ron dipped his hands into the pool and threw three fistfuls of water over the failed hairstylist. Then the red head ducked as a huge pine cone was aimed at his head.
Ron grinned cockily, "You miss-" But was suddenly cut off as Draco tackled him backwards with giggles and they were both pitched back into the water. Feeling his hair, Ron sighed, "Well then, that's better!"
Starting to strip off his robes as Ron felt his hair, Draco set them on the bank to dry. Then, clad only in his boxers, he dove under the water and snuck up behind Ron.
"Hmm, good idea, Malfoy, I'll put mine out, too. Malfoy? Where are- Yikes!!!" Ron leapt out of the water with a frantic squeak as Draco resurfaced, giggling like a school girl. Ron glared at him without much conviction and rubbed his bum where Draco had mercilessly pinched it.
Smirking, Ron said levelly, "Now who's trying to grope who, eh Malfoy?" But Draco only grinned and suck halfway into the water so that only the upper part of his face was showing, daring Ron to come and play.
Stripping down the rest of the way to his undergarments, Ron dove into the water with a whoop and the splashing fight began.
Hours later, dry and tanning, Draco began humming to himself as Ron switched to lying on his back. His skin had darkened partly and now Ron was a nice crisp golden brown as Draco had slightly darkened to what would be a normal tint of someone's complexion in the dead of winter.
Ron squinted up into the blazing sun and covered his eyes, "I wish the sun wasn't so damned bright."
"Actually it doesn't have to be," said Draco, rolling partly over and reaching over to the pile of his clothes and into his robe pockets, pulling out his wand. Then he pointed it at his eyes and murmured, "Glanate." He blinked and his eyes moistened with tears, but he was looking around without squinting. "It's like a spell for muggle sunglasses. But it only lasts for about two hours or so." Ron let him perform the spell on his eyes, and then leaned back, sighing.
They lapsed back into silence and Draco picked a long blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on the end. Ron rolled over again onto his stomach, resting his head on his folded arms. Draco glanced at him sideways, the blade of grass bending gently in the warm breeze. Ron looked back and met his companions gaze measuredly. Then Draco turned his head and shut his eyes, settling down next to Ron on his back.
Ron watched him a moment longer before turning over on his own back. Then he looked over at Malfoy again and noticed something that sent chills down his spine on the blonde boy's arm.
"When did you get that?" he whispered, pointing at the Dark Mark standing out on Malfoy's skin like a star against the clear night sky. Draco looked down at it and said flippantly, "My dad just wouldn't accept my decision not to become what he is: A Death Eater." He looked over at Ron, leaning up on his elbow and turning his whole body on its side. Ron looked away, uncomfortable with his straightforwardness, "Oh."
"It's nothing to be afraid of, Weasly."
Now the mild brown eyes rose, "I'm not afraid. It's just how you talk about it, to be honest."
That delicate brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"
Ron suddenly looked shifty, "I don't know, like it's no big deal. Yeah, my dad marked me as a Death Eater, but you know, that's okay." He gave at sad smile and Draco frowned, "I don't sound like that."
"Yeah, you do. Does it even bother you at all? Or can you just hide your emotions?" He peered closely at Draco, as if trying to see through him. Draco leaned back, glaring, "Maybe it's that *you* show too much of your emotions."
"Is that bad?" Ron leaned back again, "I mean, when you're just impassive all the time, no one can tell what you're thinking and whether you mean what you say or not."
"I'm impassive," said Draco scoffingly. Ron nodded, "You are! The only emotion you have ever shown for as long as I've known you is spite."
"Maybe that is all I feel."
"No, that's not true," Ron shook his head, "I know that's not it."
Silver eyes narrowed, "How would you know anyway, Weasly?"
Ron blushed slightly, "Last night." He said it as if it explained everything. And it did as Draco thought about it.
"Well, I can't help but be the way I am," shrugged Draco nonchalantly, watching the Gryffindor interestedly.
"Yeah, but maybe if you showed more, than people wouldn't always think you so cold." Ron gazed straight into his eyes now, sincerely. Draco suddenly felt disgusted with the big hearted Gryffindor trying to solve all his problems for him.
"Why do you even care! My problems are my own, I don't need pity from some Gryffindor," he hissed. But his expression immediately softened as Ron took on a hurt look. Maybe he does care, he thought with surprise.
"Look, Weasly, I'm just not used to people being so nice to me," he said quietly with some difficulty. "I've always been told to hide everything from everyone. Emotion is for the weak."
Ron bit his lip, "Is that what your dad told you?"
Draco's face clouded over, "Yes."
Facing the Slytherin fully, Ron looked at him hard, "Why do you hate him so much, Malfoy? What did he do?"
The woods seemed to have silenced around them. Even the brook had gone quiet. Their gazes were locked and Ron could see so many emotions flickering through the mercury depths of Draco's eyes. Hatred, rage, fear, distrust, anger, loss. But he did not look away, he must know.
"My father is a heartless bastard who will destroy anything or anyone who is in his path to power. To him, I'm just a tool. Just a tool for his own ends." He unconsciously gripped his stomach as his eyes went slightly misty, "You really don't want to know, Weasly."
Taking the hint, Ron backed off. They were quiet for what seemed like an eternity, before Draco clicked out of his reverie and and said, "So, what do you mean by last night? The whole more than spite thing. What did you mean?" He met Ron's gaze bashfully and for the first time, Ron felt that he was on the same level as Ma- Draco. No one was better, they were just two young boys dealing with the issues of growing up. They both had their fears, their loves, their problems. And perhaps, in each other, they could find solace.
Ron wasn't sure where all these feelings were coming from, but he answered Draco with more confidence than he felt on the subject, "When we fell asleep- together- you didn't hate me then. I didn't feel it. And besides, that's when the spell broke. We felt fine with each other. Close to each other." Wait a minute, where did that last line come from?
Draco's eyes had gone large and he looked the innocent Angel again. He was watching Ron with his breath held. What was Weasly getting at?
"And, look at us now! I mean, we haven't really fought all day. Think about it." Draco did, and Ron was right.
To the surprise of the both of them, Draco actually smiled at Ron and said, "You're right, Weasly."
Ron beamed and then went solemn and asked meekly, "Do you hate me, still?"
Draco's brow furrowed and he thought a moment. Then, seeing Ron's face, he shrugged, "No, I don't. I'm not sure I ever did now that I think about it."
Ron sighed with relief, then looked back questioningly, "Than why?"
"Some other time, Weasly. Isn't it enough that you have me smiling!? Think of what that does to my rep!"
Ron grinned, "What's wrong with that? You look better when you smile anyway." He lay back, not quite realizing what he said, and closed his eyes. Draco watched him for a few moments longer, thinking, then settled back beside his..... what? Friend? No. Not yet. Or maybe he should just ask. They were being awfully honest with each other, why not?
He looked at Ron again. No, not yet. Why make this uncomfortable again for the both of them? So he just lay back beside his.... companion, and fell into a light slumber.
"Malfoy, Malfoy!"
"Mrrrmph."
Ron laughed and poked Draco in the ribs. The Slytherin curled up in a ball and nipped at the giggling Gryffindor's fingers, "No, no tickling."
"Aw, you're no fun. But anyway, we need to start back or mum will think we killed each other."
"I just might, Weasly, if you don't stop bloody poking me!"
"Then get up, or the poking ensues."
"You are such a git."
"That's an understatement."
Draco peaked open one eye to see Ron fully clothed and sitting cross-legged next to him, poking him with his finger in the side. Which tickled terribly. And with wonderful self control, Draco kept from giggling insanely and pinwheeling his arms in a helpless defense.
"Glad you've realized it, too. Now sod off before I dump you in the stream and give you another afro." With that, Ron stood up and tossed Draco's clothes to him, chuckling, "Well, *somebody's* a morning person!"
"It's after noon. And besides, like I told you last night, Weasly, I am not a morning person."
"Grumpy, grumpy grumpy!" sang Ron happily, grabbing Draco's arms and dragging him to his feet.
"Sod off, sod off, sod off!" Draco wrenched away from the taller boy and immediately collapsed in a heap on the ground, still considerably tired. Ron sighed and sat on his broom, levitating a few feet in the air.
When Draco had finally gotten dressed and mounted his broom, he was fully awake and a note happier than before.
They had a race back to the house, which Draco won. Then he had to put the brooms back in the shed, for Ron refused to go near it, and then they headed back up to Ron's bedroom.
"Might as well changed out of these grubby clothes," said Ron, trying in vain to wipe the clods of dirt off. Draco nodded and they stripped.
"Now, where are my underwear?" asked Draco inquiringly with hands on hips. He stood in the middle of the room in his boxers, looking around. Ron watched him from the bed with amusement and the Slytherin caught the glint of mischief in the eyes of the Gryffindor and growled, "Weasly, give back my underwear!"
Ron clutched the underwear and danced gleefully out of the small boy's reach. Draco rolled his eyes and lunged at them as the mischievous red head dangled them before his nose.
"Damn you, Weasly! Never EVER get between a man and his underpants. Or there'll be Hell to pay! Because that is just too close for my taste!" He tackled Ron and grabbed the underwear. They had a small tug of war, until Draco finally wrenched them from Ron's grasp, beaming triumphantly.
"Ha! Now I have you grinning! Yay for me!" Ron bounced around excitedly, clapping his hands. Draco just laughed and shook his head, looking at his underwear. Then the grin was wiped off his face as he screeched in horror, "You stretched my *Calvin Klien* undies! Oy, you're going to get it for this, Weasly!" Before Ron had a chance to run, the boxer clad Slytherin shot at him, a streak of silver lighting.
In an instant they were wrestling on the bed, mercilessly tickling each other until Ron called uncle.
Draco sat back, smirking with smugness. Then he changed into his clean- if somewhat bigger- underwear and robes. Ron still lay on the bed, gasping for breath and laughing. Then, he sat up brightly and stated matter o' factly, "You know, Malfoy, it's not so bad having you around. You should act like this at school. Everyone would get such a kick out of it."
At the mention of Hogwarts, Draco frowned and Ron caught it, looking concerned, "What's wrong?"
Groaning, Draco sat on the bed beside him, "What am I supposed to do back at school? Everyone in Slytherin will accuse me of being a traitor. Which I am really, to my bloodline." He ignored Ron's indignant snort and continued, "Plus, several of the loyals will have plots to kill me no doubt. Or take me back to my father." Again, at the mention of his father, his face darkened and a mournful tone took his voice. Ron wanted to somehow comfort him, but did not know how.
They got quiet, as they always did when Lucius Malfoy was mentioned. Draco got up and walked over to the window, leaning heavily on the sill and gazing fixedly over the expanse of the fields beyond the yard. He looked suddenly older, sadder, and lonely. Making up his mind, Ron hopped up joined him at the window, "Do you want to talk about it? You can trust me, you know."
Draco turned slightly and regarded him indifferently, "Can I?"
"Yes," said Ron with passion. But Draco just turned back to look out of the window and Ron knew that nothing would be shared.
That night, in bed, in the dark, Draco turned to Ron and asked what happened last night.
"I don't know. But," he hesitated, "it feels kinda weird. Not being connected." He waited tensely for Draco's reply.
"Yeah." It was faint, but it was there and Ron smiled, obviously relieved.
Ron was the first to fall asleep this night and Draco was glad of it. He pictured the Gryffindor lying there, pale strawberry blonde lashes tracing tiny shadows over his freckle powdered cheeks. The fiery red hair settled messily about his head in a scarlet halo and pink lips pursed slightly with sleep.
His own eyelids grew heavy and Draco drifted off into the land of dreams. And as the full moon rose in all it's silvery brilliance over the slumbering wizards, both bodies moved closer, fitting perfectly, seeking the connection that had been lost. They both settled down and a small sigh slipped past Draco's lips as he snuggled down into Ron's arms and the red head drew them up around the slim figure.
And the only witness was the starry eyed man in the moon.
A/N: Okay peeps, how am I handling this? Are they taking long enough? Too long? I just would like your pov on how this is going. No, not the concept- we all love that- but I mean the time, the attitudes, ect. Thanx, it would really mean a lot to me. *huggles*
~*Villain*~