Title: Realization On A Winter's Eve
Rating: Starts off PG-13 then gains an enormous R
Pairing: Draco/Ron
Summery: After much rivalry, Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley make a bet, and the loser has to be the winner's personal servant for the Winter Holiday. What slashy feelings will result from this?
Current Music: Music from the Broadway play, Aida. Currently, the song is, My Strongest Suit
Chapter Six: The Slave In The Menagerie


Ron was striding through a long hallway, lit only by torches. His footfalls echoed lightly as he walked, and the air was laced with the scent of lavender and rose petals. He wasn't exactly sure where he was going, but he felt a presence, slowly following him as he went.

He turned the corner, and suddenly felt a pair of warm hands cover his eyes. Someone's face leaned intimately close to his ear, and whispered, Guess who? He could not recognize such a soft, sweet voice.

Ron didn't struggle, but blindly questioned, Who are you? Who is this?

He then felt the hands turning his head to face his captor, and before he could even blink, soft lips were kissing him, caressing his own lips. Ron didn't move, but let this mystery person brand desire into him with this one kiss.

When the hands let go of his head and the unfamiliar lips left his, he could still feel the heat of the kiss tickling his mouth. He opened his eyes, and gazed at the person with surprise.



Suddenly, Draco's silver eyes widened like small lamps in the torchlight. The blonde reached out and placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. his voice echoed through the halls urgently.

********

Hey, Weasley! Wake up, you stupid git!

Ron's eyelids flew apart, and he stared wildly around himself, expecting to see a torchlit corridor. Instead, his eyes focused on a small fountain in the corner of the room. He exhaled with disbelief. He was in the River Room, in a large bed with silky sheets. He'd only been dreaming.

About Malfoy.

said an impatient voice beside him. Ron whipped his head around to face a very perturbed Draco Malfoy, who was wearing a dark green bathrobe. His blonde hair looked dark and damp, and his face was flushed. Come on. You're my servant now. Get up and take a bath. You reek like owl shit.

Ron scowled and retorted, Go fuck something, Malfoy. I'd get up if you'd get off my bed.

With pleasure, Draco shot back, and he silently added in his mind, I'd be more than happy to get off on your bed. The blonde moved to the door and called, I'm going to dress for breakfast. I'll meet you downstairs in twenty minutes. Wear normal attire and don't be late. With a haughty swish of his robes (much like Snape's signature move), the Slytherin exited the most bright and sun-absorbing room in the manor. He didn't look back.

Ron exhaled violently through his nose like a bull might do in a Spanish bullfight. Yesterday, Malfoy had almost been what could be classified as to him. He'd proudly shown him the beautiful house, almost always smiling genuinely; and now, Malfoy was back to treating him like yesterday's rubbish, only full-throttle this time.

Ron sighed, feeling more confused than ever. He reluctantly crawled out of bed and fished a pair of ratty, denim trousers and an old tee shirt out of his trunk. He padded into the bathroom and began playing with the taps of the massive bathtub.

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Draco pawed through his wardrobe glumly. He wasn't in a very good mood. He had acted very mean and unmerciful to Ron back in the redhead's room, just as his father would've wanted him to be. But that was just the thing. He didn't want to be nasty to Ron at all! He hated fighting with him, but he also knew that if Lucius caught any hint that Draco might be too soft on the poor Muggle-lover, his father would deal with it- and not gently either.

Oh, yes. Draco had been beaten many times by Lucius Malfoy. It was all for discipline, of course. Naturally, his father wouldn't have hit him once a week if Draco hadn't buggered up all the time. So, that was just it. He couldn't bugger up with Ron there, especially if his father was being this suspicious. He had to resume his I'm Better Than Everyone Else position for Lucius to keep his hands off him; and Ron, for that matter.

Draco pulled on a pair of khaki-coloured slacks, a dark green tee shirt and black wind-breaker. By the looks of scenery outside his window, it was going to be a very blustery morning.


Fifteen minutes later, Draco was in the dining room, at the head of the long table, reading the gossip column of the Daily Prophet. He looked up only when he heard a small squeak of the large door opening, and the forcibly calm face of Weasley bore into him through the newspaper's large pages.

When Draco casually set the paper aside, he observed with slight sympathy that Ron was wearing a faded, gray tee shirt, and baggy, denim trousers that were fraying at the seams. His hair looked damp and it stuck out in all directions, and even though the redhead gave him a look that could shatter window glass, Draco thought Ron looked positively....well.....sexy, really.

Snapping out of this reverie, the blonde emotionlessly tossed a blueberry scone to his supposed-to-be-nemesis. When Ron stared at him with a confused expression, Draco shot him a sarcastic smirk in return. Yes, we generally eat those.

Ron's face turned a small tint of pink, and he shot back angrily, I know you eat those. What the bloody hell else do you do with them?! I'm just surprised that I'm allowed to eat now, since I am your slave.

Hmm, that sounds bloody good when he says it like that. My slave, Draco mused silently, but he simply replied, Well, if you'd rather starve-

Weasley blurted suddenly, and Draco felt a small smile forming on his own lips.

The Slytherin pointed to the chair beside his, and Ron quickly slid into it.

They ate their breakfast in silence.



At roughly half-ten, Draco led Ron out to the menagerie behind the house. Unlike everything else on the Malfoy property, this particular building looked noticeably simple, much like a stable that Muggles kept their ordinary horses in. It had tall, gray boards that looked as though they were ready to fall apart, and some of the windows were missing glass panes. Ron supposed that Lucius Malfoy didn't favor the animals all that much. As they got closer to the great structure, Ron shuddered against the cool wind, and hugged himself tightly.

Draco pushed open the massive, creaky door, and Ron was greeted with a long, dark hall with large, bolted doors on either side of it. The boys didn't say a word to each other, and the only noise that could be heard was their soft footfalls on the stone floor tiles. Draco pulled his wand from his jacket pocket and tapped it against the lock of the third door on the left.

Tap Tap. he said clearly. Tap Tap.

The door gave a groan as the lock undid itself, and slowly opened with a squeak of protest. Ron nonchalantly moved toward the opening, but Draco held out an arm in front of him, blocking him from going inside.

Brace yourself, the blonde warned. It's two, miniature Indian Red Dragons.

Ron snorted. My brother, Charlie, works with dragons. I've helped him take care of at least ten different kinds, he said haughtily, then ducked under Draco's outstretched arm.

When the Gryffindor entered the small, stone room, the first thing he saw was a pair of narrowed, silver eyes gazing suspiciously at him. A creature, who was just about as big as a twin-sized bed, with a bright scarlet, scaly back, stood protectively in front of another creature just like it. The second dragon was apparently asleep, and tendrils of white steam rhythmically shot from its sculpted nose. Ron, with all his previous experience with dragons, had never seen a dragon like either of these before, and he curiously looked back at Draco, who was standing amusedly in the doorframe.

Odd-looking, aren't they? Draco mused, and Ron moved his head positively. the Slytherin continued. They don't breath fire or anything, but they leave a nasty wound if they bite you.

What am I supposed to do with them? Ron asked, dreading the answer.

Feed them, and play with them. Draco snatched a thick, black suit like one you'd use for fencing off a hook on the wall and tossed it to Ron. Put that on.

Ron did as he was told, and as he zipped up the front of the massive clothing, he questioned, But Malfoy, if I'm supposed to feed them, where do I get the f-

At this moment, Draco had muttered a small spell, and exited the room just as a pile of meat appeared at Ron's feet. Ron glanced at the meat, then looked up timidly at the two dragons, both now fully awake; both eying him playfully, like two cats cornering a mouse.

Fuck, Malfoy! Ron bellowed, kicking the meat away from him, and the dragons leapt at it, tearing it to shreds with their long, jagged fangs. Ron backed up against a wall, terrified, and made a mental note to kill Malfoy when the holiday was over.

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On the other side of the wall, Draco had conjured a portal out of the the sturdy door, so he could watch Ron and the dragons without his enemy knowing it. This was so he could tell if Ron was in danger, and also, of course, just for Draco's personal enjoyment. Oh- how Weasley cowered with fear as the pretty harmless, well-trained beasts savagely devoured their meal! It was laughable, really.

Not that Draco liked the dragons all that much. They had been a present from his father, when Draco was ten. The blonde boy believed that this gift was meant to be ironic, since Draco's name meant dragon, and Lucius knew how much Draco hated his own name. It was almost like an inside joke between them, except only his father thought it was funny. Just like the cruel, sick person that he could be sometimes.

*******

When Ron emerged from the room, a half-hour later, his black suit was ripped in places, for the mini-dragons seemed to enjoy playing the Let's Go Claw The Human To Death game. The Gryffindor was not in a very good mood, and he seemed sort of shaken up, so Draco decided to let Ron skip caring for the fire-breathing horses today, and clean up after the stags instead.

Come on, Weasel, he called, beckoning the grimacing Gryffindor to follow him down the hallway. Take off the suit as you go. You should be pleased to know that you won't need it in here.

Ron was pleased, and very relieved. He clumsily struggled to get out of the thick garb as he walked behind his blonde nemesis. When they reached the door at the farthest end of the hall, Draco tapped it with his wand and murmured:

Alba Currere. The lock on the door unlocked with a faint click. Hello, my friends, Draco called merrily as he opened the giant door, and revealed to Ron the friends' which the blonde addressed. Ron gazed, mouth agape, at three of the most beautiful snowy-white deer he'd ever seen in his life. Indeed, they could pass easily as an ordinary doe and two stags, but their coats were so bright and light-emanating that Ron knew right away that these were magical. Each of them blinked up at him with large, azure eyes.

Draco knelt down beside the largest buck, who stared at the redheaded stranger with an inquisitive look. Weasley, this is Sage, the most intelligent stag you'll ever come across, Draco introduced with a look of excited bliss on his features. Draco nodded to the second stag. That is Apollo, a warrior from the Dark Forest; and she, Draco moved to the third deer, is Aphrodite. She's beautiful, isn't she?

Ron nodded, quite taken by surprise by his rival's sudden enthusiasm toward his pets. His friends. Ron could hear the passion behind Draco's words, proving that this cold, unfeeling teenager actually loved something. Or was Ron just reading into it too far?

Draco seemed to realize how his positive attitude must've sounded, and quickly tried to cover up his mistake. You'll be cleaning up their stall, then we'll take them outside to walk. Understood?

Ron nodded, but he didn't feel as shot down by Draco's emotionless instructions. For he saw, out of the corner of his eye as he worked, the blonde boy stroking Sage's back with a look of contentment on his face.

When Ron finished cleaning out the stall, he and Draco harnessed leashes around the three deer, and Ron led Apollo into the chilly fresh air, with Draco guiding the other two.

****************

Draco couldn't help smiling, even as the cruel winter wind struck his face. He'd been looking forward to this ever since he'd left for Hogworts at the start of the year. It might seem difficult to understand, but Draco loved these beasts with nearly all of his being. He'd found them stranded, near the Manor, three years ago. They'd roped his attention by their exquisite beauty, and the one he'd named Sage' was badly hurt and couldn't walk. The other two, Apollo and Aphrodite stood beside Sage like statues, unwilling to leave his side. So, without asking for any permission from Lucius, Draco carried Sage to the menagerie, and let him and the others stay in the end stall.

Draco, to this day, still carried a large scar on his stomach from where his father had whipped him, when the furious man found out. Luckily, Lucius never harmed the stags, but he knew Draco was strongly attached to them, which was a great sign of weakness. And a Malfoy should never have a weakness.

But Draco loved these three creatures still. They couldn't speak, of course, but Draco felt that an unbreakable bond had formed between them. It was as if they could read his thoughts; as if they, and only they, could understand him.

Suddenly, to Draco's left, Ron was being sharply pulled about by an impatient Apollo. The warrior adrenaline of the stag seemed to rage as it began to prance excitedly, dragging Ron across the cool grass.

Woah, woah, woah! the redhead yelled, trying to slow down, but the deer jerked out of control, and veered off to the right, charging at Sage and Aphrodite playfully, and knocking Ron directly into-



Draco and Ron fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Surrendering to the deer and letting go of his leash, Ron was now supported by his nemesis' body, entwined with his on the grassy floor. Ron struggled to lift himself up, but Draco's legs were pinning him down. Malfoy, I can't move!

Neither can I, you git, Draco groaned. Move your legs out from under mine.

I can't. You unlock your legs, Ron responded, still struggling to get out of this too-close-for-comfort position. Draco tried to untangle his limbs from Ron's, but the Gryffindor was being too stubborn to let him move.

Just be still for a second, Draco commanded, and Ron reluctantly lay pliant. With one, swift movement, the blonde had flipped them over so that he was on top of Ron, and he was in control of his own legs.

He untwisted his limbs from his rival's, but didn't get off him just yet. Something made him want to stay just the way he was, and for a moment, he didn't care what Weasley would do- he just wanted to lean down.........kiss him. Ron gazed up into his face, not holding any particular expression in those bright, blue eyes. Such lovely eyes. Draco wasn't sure if this meant he could do just what he wanted to do. But he was so close now. So damn close. If Draco moved his face foreword just three inches, he'd be in completion. Oh, Gods. He leaned his head down a bit, and watched Ron's eyes grow large and surprised. What was in those eyes? Shock? Doubt? Rejection? Oh, GODS!

Draco tore his face away and stood up. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. If Ron rejected him.....Oh, Merlin! Oh, every fucking deity! Why was he such a sentimental coward?! Oh, Fuck!

Come on, Weasley. We have to bring the stags back to the menagerie, Draco said evenly, turning away from the wide-eyed Gryffindor.

Ron blinked a few times with astonishment, then stood up as well, and muttered,


A Word From The Author: Salutations, everyone! I send you all many apologies for taking so long to write this bit. One thing explains it all: after-school job. (Ahhhhhhhhh!) I have done nothing but work all month long. I work at school, then work at the coffeehouse, then go home and do homework and make dinner. It never ends! Though, I must say, I'm really good at making cranberry scones now. Go me!

Anyway, I just typed up all of this chapter today, because my school is having a faculty meeting to *puts on big, important voice* discuss the welfare and success of our students. Yeah. Well, It's completed! Now, I'm on to the next chapter. What did you think of this one? Hope it's all right and not too confusing. Happy Blessings!

delicious love, Ebony L