Ron's Worst Nightmare
A/N: THANX TO Danielle: Ooh, and more twists in store! Mus4u: *shrieks* Not the BRADY BUNCH!!! Arrrgh! Gumlick The Rickmaniac: Oh, try and not be so hard on Harry. Poor pathetic sod that he is. chimerical: *giggles* How right you are! And that love will be put to a test soon enough. *mysterious smile* Hana-chan: I was tempted to have a threesome, but ix-nayed it in the end. moj: *squeals* You, love, just gave me a very nasty naughty idea for some upcoming chappies...... Eriol: Oh, your reviews just brighten my day, love! Robert D: Gee, who knows? scythefire: I know, I've been beating myself up for the change in Draco. I'll try to change him back a bit, I swear!
*******And a note before you go on. This is a very iffy chappie, peeps. Extremely so. *cringes* Don't hate me for it! *points accusingly at smirking muses, who wave gleefully* They did it! Gaa!********
Chapter Eleven: Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
"I wonder why Harry's been acting so strange lately," mused Ron quietly, his head lying comfortably in Draco's lap. The blonde shrugged, fixing his eyes on Harry while he stroked Ron's hair. The seeker was at the opposite end of the garden, de-gnoming with a giggly Hermione and Ginny. Laughing hysterically, the two girls tackled him and threw him to the ground where they all burst out laughing, though Harry much quieter as the girls wriggled over him like two very shrill and enthusiastic worms.
Mrs. Weasly stepped out of the house and looked with great amusement on her face at all the teens acting like tiny toddlers. Ron quickly sat up and moved away from Draco, shooting him a sly grin. Then the plump woman called out to all of them, "I need to step out for a while, dears. Fred, George and Lee have gotten into a bit of a bind and I need to go down to the Ministry for a while to try and get them out of it with your father! I might stay over night to do some shopping and see Mrs. Green, so Bill might stop by and check on things. Will you all be okay while I'm gone, then?" They all nodded in unison and she beamed at them and went back into the house, muttering darkly to herself about what she did to deserve such boys as her twins.
"Ooh, the house all to ourselves," said Ginny excitedly, plopping down on the ground next to her brother, patiently ignoring the platinum blonde right next to him. Hermione joined them too, dragging Harry along with her. They all sat in a crooked circle, Harry keeping careful to avoid Draco's eyes - or even looking in the direction of the Slytherin altogether.
Hermione fiddled with a loose strand of chestnut hair, her worried gaze flicking back and forth between Harry and Malfoy. Something was up, she could tell right away. Though she was distracted from her musings the next moment by Ron and Ginny happily prattling off about the history of the twins times with the Ministry. Draco politely covered a yawn, leaning on Ron's shoulder, and Harry lay back on the ground, and set his dark head on his crossed arms. He squinted up at the sky, the green eyes narrowing behind the thick black frames. Smiling he lifted a hand to point at a puffy cloud above their heads. "It looks like a toaster."
"No it doesn't," said Ginny, forgetting momentarily the subject on which she had been speaking, "It looks more like a turtle. See the head?"
"Both of you are wrong," Hermione said, "It looks like Hogwarts: A History." At this they all hissed and stuck their tongues out. Then all of the teens sprawled back on the lawn and gazed up at the sky, every few minutes someone's hand shooting up to point out another white shape up in the clear blue heavens above. The only one who did not join was Draco, who had nestled quite comfortably in the crook of Ron's arm. He closed his eyes and dozed in the warm sun, listening to Harry and Ginny bicker about the shapes they saw and Hermione insist upon them all resembling books she had read.
Ron sighed and rested his chin on the crown of Draco's head. Draco could see narrowly out the corner of his eye Ginny purse her lips and Hermione look like she was trying to act like nothing was amiss. But Potter was doing the best of all. He had just shut his eyes, jaw visibly tightening, still arguing with the youngest Weasly.
Before Harry and Ginny could begin a yelling match, Hermione suggested something that sent Ginny running to the house, cackling madly, and all three boys into an uncomfortable silence.
"You guys can take this test off of a muggle magazine I brought with me!"
The theme that week was 'Who Is Your Boyfriend, Really?' Each boy would answer the question according to what they would do in certain situations. Ron wrinkled his nose at this, Harry pouted, and Draco remained completely impassive. But Hermione and a very giggly Ginny were contagious and the boys couldn't help but grudgingly agree to play along. They would ask Ron, then Harry, then Draco five questions, which the boys would answer to their best ability accordingly and then say why they chose their answer.
"Okay, question one: What would you bring her on your first date?" said Hermione, looking at each boy in turn.
Ginny read off the answers, "A. flowers and chocolate; B. a condom; C. a romantic movie; or D. nothing."
Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I guess flowers and chocolate."
"A romantic movie," said Ron, grinning.
Draco took the longest. He contemplated the answers, and when he finally raised his head to answer, everyone was leaning forward eagerly to hear. "Nothing," he said finally, taking private amusement at their expressions. Ginny looked downright grouchy, Hermione looked surprised, Ron had narrowed his eyes and was grinning, and Harry just looked blank and pouty.
"Why?" Ginny finally asked what was on all their minds.
"Well," said Draco levelly, "I wouldn't know this person very well by only the first date, because I don't tend to go out with my friends. So, how would I know if she liked chocolate or was touchy about weight? Or had allergies? And I wouldn't take a movie, because she would apply that to me wanting to get into her pants through sappiness, and I'm not good with chick flicks. The condom was a no brainer. And besides, it dulls the effect." His smirk grew as Ginny blushed furiously and he added airily, "Besides, I think *I* am quite enough by myself for any date."
Hermione cleared her throat and read the next question, "If you were going out, where would you take her?"
"A. the beach to watch the sunset; B. the woods to have a spiritual dinner in the wild; C. a movie of her choice; D. a strip club."
"I think I'd take her to the beach to watch the sunset. There is nothing more romantic than that."
"The woods" said Harry, "It would be peaceful and quiet so we could talk and enjoy the wilderness."
"I would let her pick a movie. Women love it when they're in charge of things."
Hermione beamed, "Good answers you guys. Now, question three: If she came out after trying something on, asking you how she looked - and looked terrible - what would you say?"
"A. tell her the truth, peach is not her color; B. avoid the subject altogether and compliment her eyes instead; C. pretend to see a friend and run for it; or D. break down and start wailing about how her beauty is too much for you to bear."
"Let's see, I would totally avoid the subject," Ron jumped to his feet, pulling Hermione up with him, "And just gaze into her eyes, stroking her face and plant a sweet kiss on her lips." Hermione giggled and slapped his chest playfully. They sat back down while Harry answered.
"I think-"
"And let us not forget, Mr. Potter," said Ginny sternly, "the last time we dragged you shopping with us and I asked you for your advice. You took off like Lockhart after hearing there's a 50% sale on mirrors. So I think we have your answer already." Harry blushed and chuckled.
Draco sniffed, "Well, I would tell her the truth. Though it wouldn't happen, not when *I'm* shopping with her." Harry rolled his eyes as Draco continued, "And when a guy can really tell the truth without cowering away from the well known female rage, it really proves he wants her to look her best in the end." He bowed as Ginny and Hermione both applauded.
He's already winning them over with this stupid act, growled Harry mentally to himself.
"Okay, fourth question: If sex ever came up in the conversation, what would you do?"
"A. change the subject; B. tell her all about your other girlfriends and their sexy habits; C. just let her talk and say nothing at all; or D. just get to it and shag like rabbits!"
Ron swallowed uncomfortably, "Well, I guess I would change the subject" He shifted, lowering his eyes.
Harry smiled, "I'd just let her ramble on. That way I wouldn't seem too pushy, or too unwilling."
Draco arched a perfect eyebrow. "If she was talking about sex so much, it's obviously on her mind. I'd go for it, and if I took it wrong (which I doubt *very* much) I could just shrug it off easily and say that she brought it up. It's a win win situation. I do it and get some, or make a mistake and then come off as a complete sentimentalist, confused by the conversation and only wanting to please her."
Hermione laughed, "You must be an expert on this stuff, Malfoy. Your answers sound so professional." Draco only smiled mysteriously, so she asked the final question. "Now boys, this one isn't a multiple choice. You have to describe your wedding. In detail."
Draco smirked, "Not the wedding night?"
Hermione glared, trying not to smile, "No!"
Ron frowned, "Isn't this the girl's job?"
Ginny punched him in the shoulder, "Sexist pig!"
Rubbing his aching shoulder, Ron sent a dark look at his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him in return and said primly, "Answer the question, Ronald!"
"Oh, alright then! I think I'd have mine in the woods." His whole face softened as he closed his eyes. Hermione raised her eyebrows. "A huge old growth forest with panels of sun filtering through the trees and the warm smell of earth and plant life all around us. It would be very small, and simple dress." He looked at them all and then said bluntly, "Though there would be no wedding dress, you know." Ginny and Hermione fell silent, nodding. They had found out fifth year that Ron and Harry were gay. Ron had come out to his family the summer of fifth year and they had accepted it, for they had always suspected Percy of being gay (even though it turned out false when he married Penelope) and were fair people.
They were all silent for a few moments until Harry broke in. "I would have mine in a huge gothic church with all the really intricate stained glass and towering stone pillars. Like Notre Dame or something. But I doubt it, can you even get married in a place like that without spending at least half of the world's money?"
Ron pursed his lips in thought. "I don't know, but those places are the coolest. Your turn, Draco."
Everyone looked at each other when Draco stood up and walked a few paces away, his back to them. The sunlight hit his hair at such an angle that it exploded into a shimmering brilliant mop of silvery white. He turned back to them, his eyes distant. Harry felt his chest tighten and he had to look away. Next to him, Hermione felt a smile tug at her lips. She always knew Malfoy couldn't be so bad, maybe she should take some time to talk to him later.
"I would have it on the water's edge of the ocean. It would be at night also, with everyone dressed darkly so as not to obscure the atmosphere of peaceful nightfall. It would be on a night where the moon would cast a straight white path spearing right onto shore out of the water. And we would stand facing that pathway while we took our vows to each other. It would sort of be like accepting yourself through a gateway to a new life." He opened his eyes and looked back at them. Ron looked positively giddy with the idea, while Hermione and Ginny were wiping tears away from their eyes, swooning with the romance of the idea. Harry was the only one looking at him with loathing, his lips curled back from his teeth. Draco winked at him and sat down again next to Ron.
The sun was setting and Hermione announced it was time to eat as her stomach let out a roaring grumble. The two girls skipped inside, tugging at Draco and bowling him over with questions upon questions of this and that. He allowed them to do what they wished, answering them patiently, but barely able to do so between their enthusiastic chattering. Ron and Harry followed more slowly behind them, walking with their hands shoved down in their pockets, shoulders hunched. It wasn't exactly their custom to open up like that. Though it had been fun, they wouldn't admit it. At the door, Ron craned his neck around and gazed back at the dying sun as it slipped beneath the line of the red bathed horizon. Harry looked at him, silently praising the red hair sparkling in curly locks of scarlet flame, licking at his face and down his neck, setting his brown eyes blazing.
He tapped his friend on the shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie, and they went inside to eat.
"Goodnight!" Ginny called to the boys as she ducked inside her bedroom. Hermione called out also, muffled by the closed door. Ron and Harry grunted in return, as Draco stayed silent. For a few seconds, the three boys stood at their doors, Harry resisting the urge to tug Ron quickly inside and flip Draco off. Instead he glowered darkly as Ron strode over to Draco on naked feet, gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, said good night, and dove back into his room, ranting on loudly about cold floors and no blasted socks about when he needed them.
When the redhead was gone under his bed, searching valiantly for socks, Harry and Draco stood facing each other. Then Draco inclined his head slightly, sending his hair flowing over his face, eyes peeking beneath the shiny locks. Then a feral smile played over his sensuous lips and he said levelly, "Sleep well, Potter," and shut the door. In anger, Harry made an extremely rude gesture at the guest room and practically slammed the door behind him as he went inside to a confused Ron, who was holding up a mismatched pari of socks in his hands, one red and blue striped, riddled with holes, the other a faded, sickly mustard yellow.
Back in his own room, Draco was laughing silently at Harry. Immature git, he chortled to himself. Then, lying down, he fell asleep. Shortly after, he slipped into a sea of vivid dreams containing a smiling Ron. And nightmares of the past.
~*Dream Sequence of the Past*~
The steaming water cascaded luxuriously over his ivory back, sliding down the curve of his spine as he arched his neck to put his face full into the blast of heat. His hair was slicked back, a quicksilver in the yellow light of the prefect baths. He did not hear someone else come in.
Running his hand over his stomach, he tried to wash away the dirty feeling corroding his thoughts and nerve. The water felt suddenly harsh and the steamy air stifling to his rasping lungs. Subconsciously he scrubbed harder at his stomach and his torso, running stiff fingers over his arms like claws, nearly gouging the skin to rid it of the unseen filthiness. Sleet gray eyes slipped shut and the Angel's lips parted. In his pain, he did not hear the predatory chuckle of someone else in the room, watching him hungrily.
Crystalline tears mixed to camouflage with the tinkling droplets of water running over his goose bumped flesh. Then the moving hands met a raw bruise and a gasp issued from the quivering mouth. He worried his lip as he gazed over the purple spot on his side. It glared back, angry and painful, reminding him he was nothing more than helpless skin for others to use at their leisure. Distracted with these realizations, he did not hear someone's robes slip to the floor with a slight swish.
Sobbing drily into his hands, he bent over, thudding his head against the slicked white tiled wall. Black agony jabbed over his crown, stabbing through his muscles and bones to reach the tip of his heaving back. The slender, conditioned legs nearly gave out beneath the shivering figure as another sob choked from his beautiful white throat. With a silent voice, worn with screaming, he cursed himself for being who he was. A striking and alluring weakling. A chillingly beautiful boy with the unforgettable eyes that would capture your soul and condemn your heart to images of lust and passion. In remembering his hurts, he did not hear it when someone stood over him and smiled cruelly, reaching forward.
A cool hand, dry and gentle, smoothed back the swept forward hair on his head and cupped the slightly pointed chin. The broken boy jumped and yanked his face from the person's grasp, slipping back over the tile until his back rammed into the wall, blocking his pathway to escape. Vision clouded with tears and water droplets, the boy looked up to see a hazy figure resembling a youth with light auburn hair and sturdy form. But when the unrecognizable figure came closer, the broken one saw clearly the beguiling teal eyes pierce his gaze. He quickly looked away, fear gripping him coldly and icing over his bones. A cry ripped through his body as two firm hands came out of nowhere to grasp his wrists painfully in a steady hold, yanking him unceremoniously to his tottery feet. The broken boy whimpered as his face was pushed firmly to the side and he felt the small and so nicely hated sensation of feather gentle lips brush over his collar bone and a quick tongue dart over his alabaster skin, tasting and feeling.
The hands came again to seize his jutting hip bones, jarring him slightly. The tongue drew up his neck, grazing his cheek, and caressed the soft lids, lapping at the water and wiping the delicately curved lashes clean. Tensely, the broken boy tried to free himself, pinned back against the unyielding tile. But it was not to be so, for the instant he began to move on his own, the icy breath of the other boy breathed onto his ear in prickling cold heat, "Hey, beautiful. Have you missed me?"
His breath coming in quick gasps, the broken boy squirmed and twisted, trying to get away from the teal eyed boy who held him so tightly, so painfully against the white tile. The ghostly white tiles, witness to many things.
"Aw, come on, Draco. What would you be doing here, all alone without anybody else..... but waiting for me to come and *get* you?"
"No Blaize," he begged, the words barely audible above the running water.
The teal eyes narrowed and the full lips turned up into a greedy smile. "No?" he questioned, "No, Draco? Uh uh, you know that we don't take 'no' for an answer." Smiling lips moved over his quivering mouth, tongue slipping out to massage the bottom lip, teeth exposed to trap the sensitive flesh between them and suck on it lightly. The broken boy held back wincing, hoping that if he just kept still, it would go away.
"Open your eyes. Now, Draco. Open them and look at me. See what you've done? Swaggering about like you do?" The tone turned dark. "Like you own the place, when in truth: We. Own. You." He sneered, "Huh, Malfoy? Why don't you open those fetching eyes, show me that twisted soul behind them." A sharp knee worked its way in between milky white thighs, shoving them roughly apart. "Why don't you let me have a peek, hmm?" Teal bored into swirling gray, and a smile once again graced the sweet lips. "That's my boy," he purred, "That's the Draco I know and love." He ground his hips into the other boy, noting pleasurably the small frightened whimpers mixing with the automatic moans of delectation emitting from the sprite mouth.
His tan hand traveled down between their close bodies and the broken boy gasped, his eyes clouding over and mouth shaping wordless pleas, his small white hands moving in a pointless protest against the broad chest of his captor. The teal eyes burned with fire as he came forward to crush the pale boy's lips with his own, ravaging the fresh mouth harshly, raising brand new bruises over the deathly pallor of the down turned mouth.
"Stop trying to fight me, Draco," he growled, raising a hand to strike away that scared look. "You can't run from me." He ended his oration with a chaste kiss, a long hand snaking its way to the back of the pale blonde's head and twining amongst the fine angel hair, pulling roughly back. The broken boy's neck arched and he gasped with pain as teeth traced over the skin. Then with a frightened cry he felt himself being forced down onto his knees. His eyes rose to meet those of the heated teal gaze, only to turn down at what he saw etched across the handsome features there. Weakly he pushed at the tanned knees and scraped at the skin, but the hand guiding his head was much too strong, as was the hand that came stinging across his cheek, snapping his head sharply to the side. Tears trailed silently down his face.
"Oh..... Draco."
//Draco twisted and turned in his sleep, moaning and whimpering in lost fear. But his dream faded and he breathed easier, the sweat cooling over his brow, the dirty feeling melting away from off his body. Relaxing, he slipped into subconscious again. Colors flickered about his head, and with a terrible clenching fear, he heard the words that iced his soul and the images that gripped his heart.//
"My Dragon. Beautiful silver Dragon." The proficient callused fingers played over his skin, dancing at the beginning of his spine. He squirmed and tried in vain to twist from the bounds that held him, but it was no use. His father leaned down over him, the rancid smell of sweat, blood, and sex lingering over his flesh. Hot breath stung the Dragon's ear as words were hissed into the air, hanging like poison in his mind.
"I will break you again, my Dragon. I will hate you as I do so. You are nothing but an ornament to anyone. Always remember, my Dragon. Always remember who owns you." A sharp pain at his tailbone, being dragged further as the sharp blade of the knife made its crimson way up his spine, leaving trails of scarlet blood in its wake. When it reached his neck, a harsh tongue would clean it all away, leaving only the painful sensation of drying cuts in tainted air.
"Let me go," he demanded, determination swelling in his breast as the man he knew only as Lucius drew away from him. He felt confident as the pressing weight of his father left him, the awful feel of his hard skin hitting the stark white softness of the youth abating. Feeling him inside him, entering both his soul and his body the same. But it was all too soon to hope it was over. For next the Dragon child knew, his wrists were freed, as well as his legs, and instead he felt again the press of the stifling flesh, the heat of the moist breath, and the sting of the frosty gaze. He was flipped onto his back, facing Lucius. The man smiled cruelly, the effect on his usually calm and pleasing face utterly terrifying. The Dragon child cowered beneath it, moving his bloodied hands to steady himself. But before he could get his quaking limbs to comply, his father's hard right hand gripped his thigh and yanked him hard, so that he slid flat onto his back underneath the towering figure of a man who almost to the tee mirrored himself.
"I want to see you struggle, Dragon. I want to hear you scream. To twist and to writhe with the painful pleasure of your punishment." He paused, separating his son's legs quickly, gaining a fearful gasp from the sensual lips of his Dragon. "You are too beautiful, my son. My Dragon. It will bring you nothing but pain in the end." The Dragon child screamed as his father moaned deeply within his throat. "Mine..... all mine, Dragon. Your beauty belongs all to me. Everything you will ever love and ever cherish. Will. Be. MINE."
~*Ending Dream Sequence*~
With a last explosion of shattering pain, Ron's face appeared out of nowhere, looking frightened and etched with pain. Draco cried out, thrashing in the sheets and sitting up rigidly. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hugged himself tightly, shivering in a cold that did not exist. Squeezing his eyes securely shut, he buried his face in his arms and sobbed into the unrelenting night.
In the next room, Harry awoke to the sound of a cry. It was close and frantic. Looking wildly about, he saw nothing. His scar ached steadily on his forehead. Damn, he thought, this is what happens when three nights in a row you wake to cries in the night. I'm stressing myself too much! Blinking and trying to calm his buzzing nerves, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached over to poke Ron awake. Merlin knew it was Draco making all the blasted racket. He had heard the prat cry out in the night before, but never this loud. It was as if something had been ripped away from him. Shivering from the chill of the lingering cry, Harry felt beside him.
Shaking his head and clearing his vision, he looked over and regarded the empty space next to him with mild surprise. Ron must've went to Draco. Harry thought bitterly, Malfoy must be crying out for a whole other bloody reason. The prat. He grimaced, clenching his fists.
But deep down, Harry knew that that was not the case. He put on his glasses and turned on the light, climbing out of bed. The chill grew worse, as did the aching of his scar. Worried, he peered around the room with sleepy eyes, crossing his arms over his chest in his attempt at some warmth. Ron was nowhere to be seen.
Biting his lip, Harry went over to the window to gaze out over the lawn. Funny, he had thought he'd locked the latch when he had gone to bed. Ron had told him to do so. He locked it and jumped as the door to the room swung open. Whipping around, automatically grabbing for his wand that wasn't there, Harry came face to face with a tear streaked Draco. He bit back a cry of surprise and instead backed away and took in his peer levelly, arching an eyebrow. The Slytherin looked like hell. And Harry told him so.
"Shut up, Potter," Draco whispered in a raspy voice, looking about the room. "Where's Ron?"
Harry narrowed his eyes, "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? Bad dreams?" He tried to make the last question biting, but something in the tone of the blonde's soft voice and the cornered look in his eyes warned Harry. Draco stumbled to the bed, Harry right behind him, and gingerly touched the pillow where Ron's head should've been lying, tracing the faint indent of the boy's silhouette.
"Where is he, Potter?" he asked again, as if life and death itself depended on Harry's answer.
"I don't-" but before Harry could finish his answer, a stabbing pain shot through his head, laced with dizzying power. He slumped to his knees, Draco right there to catch him. A fear ignited within him, and as he looked up into Draco's face - it was confirmed.
"My gods," breathed Draco, his skin going numb, "They have him."
A/N: *looking extremely embarrassed* Sorry about that unexpected *cough* flashback. I got into a really odd writing funk and wrote bunches of awry swahooli. So, therefor the rating has been upped to NC-17 and the genre changed too. Oh, and I assure you, it'll only get worse. I know, thanx for the warning, eh? ^_^
~*Villain*~
A/N: THANX TO Danielle: Ooh, and more twists in store! Mus4u: *shrieks* Not the BRADY BUNCH!!! Arrrgh! Gumlick The Rickmaniac: Oh, try and not be so hard on Harry. Poor pathetic sod that he is. chimerical: *giggles* How right you are! And that love will be put to a test soon enough. *mysterious smile* Hana-chan: I was tempted to have a threesome, but ix-nayed it in the end. moj: *squeals* You, love, just gave me a very nasty naughty idea for some upcoming chappies...... Eriol: Oh, your reviews just brighten my day, love! Robert D: Gee, who knows? scythefire: I know, I've been beating myself up for the change in Draco. I'll try to change him back a bit, I swear!
*******And a note before you go on. This is a very iffy chappie, peeps. Extremely so. *cringes* Don't hate me for it! *points accusingly at smirking muses, who wave gleefully* They did it! Gaa!********
Chapter Eleven: Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
"I wonder why Harry's been acting so strange lately," mused Ron quietly, his head lying comfortably in Draco's lap. The blonde shrugged, fixing his eyes on Harry while he stroked Ron's hair. The seeker was at the opposite end of the garden, de-gnoming with a giggly Hermione and Ginny. Laughing hysterically, the two girls tackled him and threw him to the ground where they all burst out laughing, though Harry much quieter as the girls wriggled over him like two very shrill and enthusiastic worms.
Mrs. Weasly stepped out of the house and looked with great amusement on her face at all the teens acting like tiny toddlers. Ron quickly sat up and moved away from Draco, shooting him a sly grin. Then the plump woman called out to all of them, "I need to step out for a while, dears. Fred, George and Lee have gotten into a bit of a bind and I need to go down to the Ministry for a while to try and get them out of it with your father! I might stay over night to do some shopping and see Mrs. Green, so Bill might stop by and check on things. Will you all be okay while I'm gone, then?" They all nodded in unison and she beamed at them and went back into the house, muttering darkly to herself about what she did to deserve such boys as her twins.
"Ooh, the house all to ourselves," said Ginny excitedly, plopping down on the ground next to her brother, patiently ignoring the platinum blonde right next to him. Hermione joined them too, dragging Harry along with her. They all sat in a crooked circle, Harry keeping careful to avoid Draco's eyes - or even looking in the direction of the Slytherin altogether.
Hermione fiddled with a loose strand of chestnut hair, her worried gaze flicking back and forth between Harry and Malfoy. Something was up, she could tell right away. Though she was distracted from her musings the next moment by Ron and Ginny happily prattling off about the history of the twins times with the Ministry. Draco politely covered a yawn, leaning on Ron's shoulder, and Harry lay back on the ground, and set his dark head on his crossed arms. He squinted up at the sky, the green eyes narrowing behind the thick black frames. Smiling he lifted a hand to point at a puffy cloud above their heads. "It looks like a toaster."
"No it doesn't," said Ginny, forgetting momentarily the subject on which she had been speaking, "It looks more like a turtle. See the head?"
"Both of you are wrong," Hermione said, "It looks like Hogwarts: A History." At this they all hissed and stuck their tongues out. Then all of the teens sprawled back on the lawn and gazed up at the sky, every few minutes someone's hand shooting up to point out another white shape up in the clear blue heavens above. The only one who did not join was Draco, who had nestled quite comfortably in the crook of Ron's arm. He closed his eyes and dozed in the warm sun, listening to Harry and Ginny bicker about the shapes they saw and Hermione insist upon them all resembling books she had read.
Ron sighed and rested his chin on the crown of Draco's head. Draco could see narrowly out the corner of his eye Ginny purse her lips and Hermione look like she was trying to act like nothing was amiss. But Potter was doing the best of all. He had just shut his eyes, jaw visibly tightening, still arguing with the youngest Weasly.
Before Harry and Ginny could begin a yelling match, Hermione suggested something that sent Ginny running to the house, cackling madly, and all three boys into an uncomfortable silence.
"You guys can take this test off of a muggle magazine I brought with me!"
The theme that week was 'Who Is Your Boyfriend, Really?' Each boy would answer the question according to what they would do in certain situations. Ron wrinkled his nose at this, Harry pouted, and Draco remained completely impassive. But Hermione and a very giggly Ginny were contagious and the boys couldn't help but grudgingly agree to play along. They would ask Ron, then Harry, then Draco five questions, which the boys would answer to their best ability accordingly and then say why they chose their answer.
"Okay, question one: What would you bring her on your first date?" said Hermione, looking at each boy in turn.
Ginny read off the answers, "A. flowers and chocolate; B. a condom; C. a romantic movie; or D. nothing."
Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I guess flowers and chocolate."
"A romantic movie," said Ron, grinning.
Draco took the longest. He contemplated the answers, and when he finally raised his head to answer, everyone was leaning forward eagerly to hear. "Nothing," he said finally, taking private amusement at their expressions. Ginny looked downright grouchy, Hermione looked surprised, Ron had narrowed his eyes and was grinning, and Harry just looked blank and pouty.
"Why?" Ginny finally asked what was on all their minds.
"Well," said Draco levelly, "I wouldn't know this person very well by only the first date, because I don't tend to go out with my friends. So, how would I know if she liked chocolate or was touchy about weight? Or had allergies? And I wouldn't take a movie, because she would apply that to me wanting to get into her pants through sappiness, and I'm not good with chick flicks. The condom was a no brainer. And besides, it dulls the effect." His smirk grew as Ginny blushed furiously and he added airily, "Besides, I think *I* am quite enough by myself for any date."
Hermione cleared her throat and read the next question, "If you were going out, where would you take her?"
"A. the beach to watch the sunset; B. the woods to have a spiritual dinner in the wild; C. a movie of her choice; D. a strip club."
"I think I'd take her to the beach to watch the sunset. There is nothing more romantic than that."
"The woods" said Harry, "It would be peaceful and quiet so we could talk and enjoy the wilderness."
"I would let her pick a movie. Women love it when they're in charge of things."
Hermione beamed, "Good answers you guys. Now, question three: If she came out after trying something on, asking you how she looked - and looked terrible - what would you say?"
"A. tell her the truth, peach is not her color; B. avoid the subject altogether and compliment her eyes instead; C. pretend to see a friend and run for it; or D. break down and start wailing about how her beauty is too much for you to bear."
"Let's see, I would totally avoid the subject," Ron jumped to his feet, pulling Hermione up with him, "And just gaze into her eyes, stroking her face and plant a sweet kiss on her lips." Hermione giggled and slapped his chest playfully. They sat back down while Harry answered.
"I think-"
"And let us not forget, Mr. Potter," said Ginny sternly, "the last time we dragged you shopping with us and I asked you for your advice. You took off like Lockhart after hearing there's a 50% sale on mirrors. So I think we have your answer already." Harry blushed and chuckled.
Draco sniffed, "Well, I would tell her the truth. Though it wouldn't happen, not when *I'm* shopping with her." Harry rolled his eyes as Draco continued, "And when a guy can really tell the truth without cowering away from the well known female rage, it really proves he wants her to look her best in the end." He bowed as Ginny and Hermione both applauded.
He's already winning them over with this stupid act, growled Harry mentally to himself.
"Okay, fourth question: If sex ever came up in the conversation, what would you do?"
"A. change the subject; B. tell her all about your other girlfriends and their sexy habits; C. just let her talk and say nothing at all; or D. just get to it and shag like rabbits!"
Ron swallowed uncomfortably, "Well, I guess I would change the subject" He shifted, lowering his eyes.
Harry smiled, "I'd just let her ramble on. That way I wouldn't seem too pushy, or too unwilling."
Draco arched a perfect eyebrow. "If she was talking about sex so much, it's obviously on her mind. I'd go for it, and if I took it wrong (which I doubt *very* much) I could just shrug it off easily and say that she brought it up. It's a win win situation. I do it and get some, or make a mistake and then come off as a complete sentimentalist, confused by the conversation and only wanting to please her."
Hermione laughed, "You must be an expert on this stuff, Malfoy. Your answers sound so professional." Draco only smiled mysteriously, so she asked the final question. "Now boys, this one isn't a multiple choice. You have to describe your wedding. In detail."
Draco smirked, "Not the wedding night?"
Hermione glared, trying not to smile, "No!"
Ron frowned, "Isn't this the girl's job?"
Ginny punched him in the shoulder, "Sexist pig!"
Rubbing his aching shoulder, Ron sent a dark look at his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him in return and said primly, "Answer the question, Ronald!"
"Oh, alright then! I think I'd have mine in the woods." His whole face softened as he closed his eyes. Hermione raised her eyebrows. "A huge old growth forest with panels of sun filtering through the trees and the warm smell of earth and plant life all around us. It would be very small, and simple dress." He looked at them all and then said bluntly, "Though there would be no wedding dress, you know." Ginny and Hermione fell silent, nodding. They had found out fifth year that Ron and Harry were gay. Ron had come out to his family the summer of fifth year and they had accepted it, for they had always suspected Percy of being gay (even though it turned out false when he married Penelope) and were fair people.
They were all silent for a few moments until Harry broke in. "I would have mine in a huge gothic church with all the really intricate stained glass and towering stone pillars. Like Notre Dame or something. But I doubt it, can you even get married in a place like that without spending at least half of the world's money?"
Ron pursed his lips in thought. "I don't know, but those places are the coolest. Your turn, Draco."
Everyone looked at each other when Draco stood up and walked a few paces away, his back to them. The sunlight hit his hair at such an angle that it exploded into a shimmering brilliant mop of silvery white. He turned back to them, his eyes distant. Harry felt his chest tighten and he had to look away. Next to him, Hermione felt a smile tug at her lips. She always knew Malfoy couldn't be so bad, maybe she should take some time to talk to him later.
"I would have it on the water's edge of the ocean. It would be at night also, with everyone dressed darkly so as not to obscure the atmosphere of peaceful nightfall. It would be on a night where the moon would cast a straight white path spearing right onto shore out of the water. And we would stand facing that pathway while we took our vows to each other. It would sort of be like accepting yourself through a gateway to a new life." He opened his eyes and looked back at them. Ron looked positively giddy with the idea, while Hermione and Ginny were wiping tears away from their eyes, swooning with the romance of the idea. Harry was the only one looking at him with loathing, his lips curled back from his teeth. Draco winked at him and sat down again next to Ron.
The sun was setting and Hermione announced it was time to eat as her stomach let out a roaring grumble. The two girls skipped inside, tugging at Draco and bowling him over with questions upon questions of this and that. He allowed them to do what they wished, answering them patiently, but barely able to do so between their enthusiastic chattering. Ron and Harry followed more slowly behind them, walking with their hands shoved down in their pockets, shoulders hunched. It wasn't exactly their custom to open up like that. Though it had been fun, they wouldn't admit it. At the door, Ron craned his neck around and gazed back at the dying sun as it slipped beneath the line of the red bathed horizon. Harry looked at him, silently praising the red hair sparkling in curly locks of scarlet flame, licking at his face and down his neck, setting his brown eyes blazing.
He tapped his friend on the shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie, and they went inside to eat.
"Goodnight!" Ginny called to the boys as she ducked inside her bedroom. Hermione called out also, muffled by the closed door. Ron and Harry grunted in return, as Draco stayed silent. For a few seconds, the three boys stood at their doors, Harry resisting the urge to tug Ron quickly inside and flip Draco off. Instead he glowered darkly as Ron strode over to Draco on naked feet, gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, said good night, and dove back into his room, ranting on loudly about cold floors and no blasted socks about when he needed them.
When the redhead was gone under his bed, searching valiantly for socks, Harry and Draco stood facing each other. Then Draco inclined his head slightly, sending his hair flowing over his face, eyes peeking beneath the shiny locks. Then a feral smile played over his sensuous lips and he said levelly, "Sleep well, Potter," and shut the door. In anger, Harry made an extremely rude gesture at the guest room and practically slammed the door behind him as he went inside to a confused Ron, who was holding up a mismatched pari of socks in his hands, one red and blue striped, riddled with holes, the other a faded, sickly mustard yellow.
Back in his own room, Draco was laughing silently at Harry. Immature git, he chortled to himself. Then, lying down, he fell asleep. Shortly after, he slipped into a sea of vivid dreams containing a smiling Ron. And nightmares of the past.
~*Dream Sequence of the Past*~
The steaming water cascaded luxuriously over his ivory back, sliding down the curve of his spine as he arched his neck to put his face full into the blast of heat. His hair was slicked back, a quicksilver in the yellow light of the prefect baths. He did not hear someone else come in.
Running his hand over his stomach, he tried to wash away the dirty feeling corroding his thoughts and nerve. The water felt suddenly harsh and the steamy air stifling to his rasping lungs. Subconsciously he scrubbed harder at his stomach and his torso, running stiff fingers over his arms like claws, nearly gouging the skin to rid it of the unseen filthiness. Sleet gray eyes slipped shut and the Angel's lips parted. In his pain, he did not hear the predatory chuckle of someone else in the room, watching him hungrily.
Crystalline tears mixed to camouflage with the tinkling droplets of water running over his goose bumped flesh. Then the moving hands met a raw bruise and a gasp issued from the quivering mouth. He worried his lip as he gazed over the purple spot on his side. It glared back, angry and painful, reminding him he was nothing more than helpless skin for others to use at their leisure. Distracted with these realizations, he did not hear someone's robes slip to the floor with a slight swish.
Sobbing drily into his hands, he bent over, thudding his head against the slicked white tiled wall. Black agony jabbed over his crown, stabbing through his muscles and bones to reach the tip of his heaving back. The slender, conditioned legs nearly gave out beneath the shivering figure as another sob choked from his beautiful white throat. With a silent voice, worn with screaming, he cursed himself for being who he was. A striking and alluring weakling. A chillingly beautiful boy with the unforgettable eyes that would capture your soul and condemn your heart to images of lust and passion. In remembering his hurts, he did not hear it when someone stood over him and smiled cruelly, reaching forward.
A cool hand, dry and gentle, smoothed back the swept forward hair on his head and cupped the slightly pointed chin. The broken boy jumped and yanked his face from the person's grasp, slipping back over the tile until his back rammed into the wall, blocking his pathway to escape. Vision clouded with tears and water droplets, the boy looked up to see a hazy figure resembling a youth with light auburn hair and sturdy form. But when the unrecognizable figure came closer, the broken one saw clearly the beguiling teal eyes pierce his gaze. He quickly looked away, fear gripping him coldly and icing over his bones. A cry ripped through his body as two firm hands came out of nowhere to grasp his wrists painfully in a steady hold, yanking him unceremoniously to his tottery feet. The broken boy whimpered as his face was pushed firmly to the side and he felt the small and so nicely hated sensation of feather gentle lips brush over his collar bone and a quick tongue dart over his alabaster skin, tasting and feeling.
The hands came again to seize his jutting hip bones, jarring him slightly. The tongue drew up his neck, grazing his cheek, and caressed the soft lids, lapping at the water and wiping the delicately curved lashes clean. Tensely, the broken boy tried to free himself, pinned back against the unyielding tile. But it was not to be so, for the instant he began to move on his own, the icy breath of the other boy breathed onto his ear in prickling cold heat, "Hey, beautiful. Have you missed me?"
His breath coming in quick gasps, the broken boy squirmed and twisted, trying to get away from the teal eyed boy who held him so tightly, so painfully against the white tile. The ghostly white tiles, witness to many things.
"Aw, come on, Draco. What would you be doing here, all alone without anybody else..... but waiting for me to come and *get* you?"
"No Blaize," he begged, the words barely audible above the running water.
The teal eyes narrowed and the full lips turned up into a greedy smile. "No?" he questioned, "No, Draco? Uh uh, you know that we don't take 'no' for an answer." Smiling lips moved over his quivering mouth, tongue slipping out to massage the bottom lip, teeth exposed to trap the sensitive flesh between them and suck on it lightly. The broken boy held back wincing, hoping that if he just kept still, it would go away.
"Open your eyes. Now, Draco. Open them and look at me. See what you've done? Swaggering about like you do?" The tone turned dark. "Like you own the place, when in truth: We. Own. You." He sneered, "Huh, Malfoy? Why don't you open those fetching eyes, show me that twisted soul behind them." A sharp knee worked its way in between milky white thighs, shoving them roughly apart. "Why don't you let me have a peek, hmm?" Teal bored into swirling gray, and a smile once again graced the sweet lips. "That's my boy," he purred, "That's the Draco I know and love." He ground his hips into the other boy, noting pleasurably the small frightened whimpers mixing with the automatic moans of delectation emitting from the sprite mouth.
His tan hand traveled down between their close bodies and the broken boy gasped, his eyes clouding over and mouth shaping wordless pleas, his small white hands moving in a pointless protest against the broad chest of his captor. The teal eyes burned with fire as he came forward to crush the pale boy's lips with his own, ravaging the fresh mouth harshly, raising brand new bruises over the deathly pallor of the down turned mouth.
"Stop trying to fight me, Draco," he growled, raising a hand to strike away that scared look. "You can't run from me." He ended his oration with a chaste kiss, a long hand snaking its way to the back of the pale blonde's head and twining amongst the fine angel hair, pulling roughly back. The broken boy's neck arched and he gasped with pain as teeth traced over the skin. Then with a frightened cry he felt himself being forced down onto his knees. His eyes rose to meet those of the heated teal gaze, only to turn down at what he saw etched across the handsome features there. Weakly he pushed at the tanned knees and scraped at the skin, but the hand guiding his head was much too strong, as was the hand that came stinging across his cheek, snapping his head sharply to the side. Tears trailed silently down his face.
"Oh..... Draco."
//Draco twisted and turned in his sleep, moaning and whimpering in lost fear. But his dream faded and he breathed easier, the sweat cooling over his brow, the dirty feeling melting away from off his body. Relaxing, he slipped into subconscious again. Colors flickered about his head, and with a terrible clenching fear, he heard the words that iced his soul and the images that gripped his heart.//
"My Dragon. Beautiful silver Dragon." The proficient callused fingers played over his skin, dancing at the beginning of his spine. He squirmed and tried in vain to twist from the bounds that held him, but it was no use. His father leaned down over him, the rancid smell of sweat, blood, and sex lingering over his flesh. Hot breath stung the Dragon's ear as words were hissed into the air, hanging like poison in his mind.
"I will break you again, my Dragon. I will hate you as I do so. You are nothing but an ornament to anyone. Always remember, my Dragon. Always remember who owns you." A sharp pain at his tailbone, being dragged further as the sharp blade of the knife made its crimson way up his spine, leaving trails of scarlet blood in its wake. When it reached his neck, a harsh tongue would clean it all away, leaving only the painful sensation of drying cuts in tainted air.
"Let me go," he demanded, determination swelling in his breast as the man he knew only as Lucius drew away from him. He felt confident as the pressing weight of his father left him, the awful feel of his hard skin hitting the stark white softness of the youth abating. Feeling him inside him, entering both his soul and his body the same. But it was all too soon to hope it was over. For next the Dragon child knew, his wrists were freed, as well as his legs, and instead he felt again the press of the stifling flesh, the heat of the moist breath, and the sting of the frosty gaze. He was flipped onto his back, facing Lucius. The man smiled cruelly, the effect on his usually calm and pleasing face utterly terrifying. The Dragon child cowered beneath it, moving his bloodied hands to steady himself. But before he could get his quaking limbs to comply, his father's hard right hand gripped his thigh and yanked him hard, so that he slid flat onto his back underneath the towering figure of a man who almost to the tee mirrored himself.
"I want to see you struggle, Dragon. I want to hear you scream. To twist and to writhe with the painful pleasure of your punishment." He paused, separating his son's legs quickly, gaining a fearful gasp from the sensual lips of his Dragon. "You are too beautiful, my son. My Dragon. It will bring you nothing but pain in the end." The Dragon child screamed as his father moaned deeply within his throat. "Mine..... all mine, Dragon. Your beauty belongs all to me. Everything you will ever love and ever cherish. Will. Be. MINE."
~*Ending Dream Sequence*~
With a last explosion of shattering pain, Ron's face appeared out of nowhere, looking frightened and etched with pain. Draco cried out, thrashing in the sheets and sitting up rigidly. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hugged himself tightly, shivering in a cold that did not exist. Squeezing his eyes securely shut, he buried his face in his arms and sobbed into the unrelenting night.
In the next room, Harry awoke to the sound of a cry. It was close and frantic. Looking wildly about, he saw nothing. His scar ached steadily on his forehead. Damn, he thought, this is what happens when three nights in a row you wake to cries in the night. I'm stressing myself too much! Blinking and trying to calm his buzzing nerves, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached over to poke Ron awake. Merlin knew it was Draco making all the blasted racket. He had heard the prat cry out in the night before, but never this loud. It was as if something had been ripped away from him. Shivering from the chill of the lingering cry, Harry felt beside him.
Shaking his head and clearing his vision, he looked over and regarded the empty space next to him with mild surprise. Ron must've went to Draco. Harry thought bitterly, Malfoy must be crying out for a whole other bloody reason. The prat. He grimaced, clenching his fists.
But deep down, Harry knew that that was not the case. He put on his glasses and turned on the light, climbing out of bed. The chill grew worse, as did the aching of his scar. Worried, he peered around the room with sleepy eyes, crossing his arms over his chest in his attempt at some warmth. Ron was nowhere to be seen.
Biting his lip, Harry went over to the window to gaze out over the lawn. Funny, he had thought he'd locked the latch when he had gone to bed. Ron had told him to do so. He locked it and jumped as the door to the room swung open. Whipping around, automatically grabbing for his wand that wasn't there, Harry came face to face with a tear streaked Draco. He bit back a cry of surprise and instead backed away and took in his peer levelly, arching an eyebrow. The Slytherin looked like hell. And Harry told him so.
"Shut up, Potter," Draco whispered in a raspy voice, looking about the room. "Where's Ron?"
Harry narrowed his eyes, "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? Bad dreams?" He tried to make the last question biting, but something in the tone of the blonde's soft voice and the cornered look in his eyes warned Harry. Draco stumbled to the bed, Harry right behind him, and gingerly touched the pillow where Ron's head should've been lying, tracing the faint indent of the boy's silhouette.
"Where is he, Potter?" he asked again, as if life and death itself depended on Harry's answer.
"I don't-" but before Harry could finish his answer, a stabbing pain shot through his head, laced with dizzying power. He slumped to his knees, Draco right there to catch him. A fear ignited within him, and as he looked up into Draco's face - it was confirmed.
"My gods," breathed Draco, his skin going numb, "They have him."
A/N: *looking extremely embarrassed* Sorry about that unexpected *cough* flashback. I got into a really odd writing funk and wrote bunches of awry swahooli. So, therefor the rating has been upped to NC-17 and the genre changed too. Oh, and I assure you, it'll only get worse. I know, thanx for the warning, eh? ^_^
~*Villain*~