A/N: Yay! A long chapter! Longer, anyway. Ron and Draco go at it, no not that you pervy wizard fanciers… And I account for quite a few characters in this chapter. Definitely not one to miss if you actually even care about where this plot is going. I don't. Um. Well, here's the chapter.. Read, damn you!
Chapter 8
At 6 in the morning on August 1st, Ron Weasley awoke to a knock on his door. His wife of two years, Lavender, turned in their bed. He slid out of bed quietly, made himself presentable, then opened the door of his house.
It was someone completely unexpected.
"Ron," Draco Malfoy said. He tried a smile. He was in all black mourning attire, which made his pallor show all the more. "I need to speak to you about something--are you alone?"
"No," he managed. The surprise was overwhelming. "My wife is here. Other than her, yes. Now can you explain anything about why you've just shown up at--" he glanced at a clock-- "6 in the morning on my doorstep, for no apparent reason?"
Draco frowned at him. "I said I was going to explain, didn't you hear? May I please come in, or are we going to hold a conversation outside, with you in your knickers?"
Ron scowled. "Fine. Can you blame me? I just woke up because someone was knocking on my door." He opened the door wider and Draco stepped in.
"It's a bit dumpy," he observed. Ron didn't respond.
"We can go into my office. We won't wake Lavender there." He paced off towards his office. Once there, Draco peered around critically. Ron shut the door behind them. "Now what is it, Malfoy?"
Draco looked at him. "I'm sorry, did we just use a Time Turner and am I back in Hogwarts? My name is Draco, Ronald Weasley, and I pray you have the good courtesy to use it." He shrugged. "It's just a bit immature, that's all."
Ron glared at him, then withdrew. "Fine. It's just that I don't appreciate the things that were said about you and Harry in the papers. I'm certain they aren't true."
"Don't be too certain." Draco blandly examined a memo. Ron snatched it from his hands.
"Hey, that's official--" he paused. "What? Are you saying all that was true?"
"Most of it. The part about it being a love triangle originally was entirely false. I don't know where they got that. It was just us. Since 6th year." He peered at Ron. "Why are you so shocked? Wasn't it obvious?"
Ron was quite flummoxed. "Not really," he said. "6th year, you said?"
"Yes."
"I didn't see it."
"Maybe you just weren't looking. We met nearly every night." He grinned wickedly. "Quidditch was a good excuse to sneak off."
"You mean his late-night training was really--?" Ron's eyes widened in realization.
"Yes. It was quite beautifully planned. Neither of us were complete morons, you realize." Draco shrugged. "Enough about that." He cleared his throat, and for the first time Ron noticed the pain in his eyes. He couldn't have been lying. "My father disowned me, for all intensive purposes anyway, and I need a place to stay."
He cut off Ron right before he began to protest. "Relax, now--yours was simply the first place I happened upon. If you can't take me in, or aren't willing to, could you send me to someone who will?"
"Can't you go to one of your Death Eater friends?" Ron snapped, then immediately paused in apologetic horror at the anger and pain growing in Draco's eyes. "I'm sorry, it just slipped, Draco--"
"Have you heard yet, Ron?" Draco said, in razor tones. "About that day two days ago? About how it really happened?" Ron nodded.
Draco looked away. Ron was shocked to see tears dribble down his face. "I'm disowned from all of them. I told them all the truth. I had to stay with them, and away from Harry near the end; I would have been suspected, and they would have used that against him."
Draco glared up at Ron in such anguish that he had to lean back on the desk in surprise. "I held him in my arms as he died. Do you think that they would have taken me back?"
"No." Ron lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't believe it, that was all. I'm sorry."
Draco smiled, and it was bitter. "All I seem to be getting from people lately is apologies. Either they're sorry that Harry's dead, they're sorry for making a comment about it, or in one rare case--" he gave a quick smile, and it seemed a bit less bitter-- "she was sorry I was gay." He laughed.
Ron laughed quickly and nervously. He hadn't planned on dealing with Draco Malfoy at 6 in the morning. It wasn't on his schedule. His life was incredibly monotonous, well, in a way, because life with Ludo Bagman was rarely boring--and then all of this exploded in his face. Ron hadn't had an interruption in the night/early morning since Ludo had hired him one year ago.
"Well, I suppose there's one good thing," Ron said. "You're free from Voldemort now. Right?"
"I suppose," he repeated, but in such a caustic tone that Ron bristled.
"Listen, I'm not going to have you talk to me like--" he snapped, but the apologetic look on Draco's face stopped him.
"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I suppose it's my turn to apologize." He gave a weak smile. "I may be free of Voldemort, but at the cost of Harry's life. So that's not much of a comfort. Do you understand? I'm quite sorry for snapping like that."
"It's all right. I suppose we're all a little off.. lately," Ron said. He reached for some parchment. "I can give you Hermione's address. She lives alone, but I'm not sure how she'll feel about the arrangement." He shrugged. "She's an Unspeakable, so she won't be around much."
"Granger? An Unspeakable?" Surprise permeated the words.
"Yes. Last year." Ron smiled. "It's amazing and yet not too surprising if you think about it." He handed Draco the parchment. "Now tell me; your father is probably going to take you off his financial support, right?"
Draco smirked. "That is quite likely."
Ron considered. "What do you plan to do for money, then? Do you need a job?"
Draco frowned. "Are you offering me a job?"
"Only if you want it." Draco stared at him. Ron scratched the back of his neck. "It's a job at the Magical Games and Sports Department. Good pay for not that much work. It was my old job." He gave Draco a weak smile. "You'd basically be a pencil-pusher, but it'd be work."
Draco looked away. "I'll consider it." He paused. "Isn't there some other poor bastard who could use this job better than I could?"
Ron smirked. "As you said, you're not a complete moron. We could use smart people like you." He shrugged hopelessly. "For some reason, our Department is considered a joke."
"I can't imagine why." Draco grinned at him. Ron was amazed on how quickly Draco could change gears and mask emotion. No wonder he kept their love a secret so long. "You're a good man, Ron. I blame myself wholly for never considering you more than poor scum." His good-natured look made Ron not take it as an insult.
Ron nodded to him. "I blame myself wholly for considering you an annoying little rich bastard." He stuck out his hand, and Draco shook it. "So it's all forgiven now?"
"All of it that I can remember," Draco said. He looked down at the parchment. "How do you think she'll react?"
"She'll be surprised, but if you're as honest with her as you are with me, she may let you live in her house." Draco blinked at Ron's statement.
"House? She's not with anyone, is she?"
"Married? No. She's been too engrossed in work. The salary of Unspeakables is so high that she bought a mansion. I doubt she has a house-elf, though." Ron snorted. "Anyway, she'll be there until about eight, so I'd get on." Ron stuck his hand out again, and they shook a second time. They walked to the door.
"I appreciate this more than you can imagine, Ron," Draco said. His eyes were unmasked again, a clear pale blue, and they were full of gratitude. "I really needed some help."
"It's worth it, Draco." He nodded in complete respect. It was amazing how Harry had changed the man. Or was it how he had been all along? There was no knowing. "I'll be hoping to hear about the job."
"Me, too." Draco grinned. Ron grinned back. Draco opened the door, tipped an imaginary hat and left.
Lavender appeared, rubbing her eyes and blinking at Ron. "What are you doing up? And who was that, may I ask?"
"A friend," Ron said. "Someone who I'm not sure you know." She leaned against him and Ron ruffled her hair. "Come on, let's go back to sleep. I could do with another ten hours."
"You go to work in three hours," Lavender protested.
"Eh, Ludo won't mind. I'll meet you back in bed." Ron left her standing by the door and plodded back to their bedroom.
"You're impossible," she muttered, smiled, then followed in his wake. "Impossible."
