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: Talk Shows On Mute by Incubus (fabulous band)
Chapter Seven: The First Confrontation

Draco and Ron had barely spoken to each other since they led the stags back to the menagerie. It was after noon now, and Draco, his stomach heavy as if filled with lead, was desperate to get as far away as possible from the boy he had almost given himself to. He'd almost lost control.

said Draco after watching Ron take the harnesses off the stags from the doorway of their stall. The redhead looked up at him with an anxious expression.

Come on, Malfoy. Talk to me, Ron thought desperately. Tell me how what just happened.

To Ron's disappointment, Draco didn't answer his silent plea, and instead, continued without expression, I want you to go to the kitchen, and summon one of the House Elves to take care of the laundry. Then, do homework or something. You can use either of the libraries, if you want.

Ron sighed with frustration. He felt his blood boil in his veins, and inwardly scowled at his rival for being so usually stubborn, even about telling the truth of why he'd been staring at Ron so intently just moments before. Somewhere in the back of his skull, Ron knew the truth; he did. But he wasn't about to believe that Draco had taken on some sort of interest toward him.

His thoughts skipped carefully around this lone, bizarre idea as he walked back to the manor, subconsciously shuffling his feet. This was ridiculous! Where had he even come up with such a cogitation? Well, the answer was actually quite clear: Malfoy.

It seemed that from that moment forth, however, Draco's emotions would be sealed up more tightly than ever before. The next few days were just as aggravating as Ron had imagined when Draco first caught the golden snitch. Draco took on his master role and was carrying it out full-force.

Every day, Ron awoke to Draco tapping on the shoulder and telling him, twenty minutes, Weasel. He'd bathe, dress casually, then go downstairs to eat a silent breakfast with Malfoy. Then, he'd go and take care of all the creatures in the menagerie, including the newly introduced fire-breathing horses which, to Ron's dismay, could be even more violent than the mini-dragons at times. Draco stopped going with him after the third day, leaving him to work alone. Following the toils of the menagerie, the redhead would do homework, all the while being at Malfoy's beck and call. Quite often, Malfoy would send him down to the servant's quarters with a message for one of the House Elves, or tell him to clean the hallway floor and make Malfoy's bed. This would go on until dinner, when Ron ate silently and Draco barely took two bites before excusing himself and his servant. Ron noticed this but did not voice it, nor did he ask why Lucius never appeared at dinner to eat with his family.

The tediousness of each day exhausted Ron. He felt like thin fabric, starting to fray little by little, and Malfoy never spoke to him save for the distant commands he gave him. There was no more enthusiasm. No more light sincerity. Malfoy was now so abruptly aloof, always composed each time Ron saw him, and it was starting to make Ron insane.

It had been a week since Ron had first arrived at the Manor, and shreds of light floated in from the end windows of the long hallway where Ron knelt, on the stony floor, scrubbing. He was surrounded by soap and water, and he was not in the best of moods. A door to his left opened, and Ron blinked up at the cold, rigid figure of Draco Malfoy. He held his gaze for a moment, not blinking. One might compare the rivals to two cats, just staring to see which one might turn away first. Ron anticipated that Draco might say something important, perhaps explain his indifferent behaviour. But Ron had also anticipated this every time he'd seen Draco that week, and it had never come to happen. But when had Malfoy ever not been reserved? Well, he seemed to have opened up days ago, but that went away faster than it came.

Ron waited now, just slightly hopeful that something would happen. Draco's eyes flicked down to the floor. You missed a spot. Ron looked down as well and gritted his teeth.

Sorry, Sir. He leaned toward Malfoy's black boots and swiped the wet rag across the floor around them. Malfoy smirked.

Good boy. Draco pulled out his wand and whispered a quick charm. Suddenly, all of the water and soapy bubbles began to melt into the floor, quickly vanishing from all sight. Ron looked around, confused, before meeting Malfoy's grinning face. Do it again.

Ron felt his face get hot and he balled his fingers into fists. he fumed.

Draco raised his eyebrows as he tucked his wand back into his jeans pocket. Yes, my servant?

Ron squeezed his eyes shut and sat back on his heels. He sighed heavily. he whispered.

He didn't see the pained look on his rival's face as he leaned down to begin cleaning again.

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At dinner that night, Lucius Malfoy was at the head of the table, reading the Daily Prophet as his fork jabbed into the duck breast on his silver plate. Narcissa wore a dark red cocktail dress which was an improvement from the usual black attire, but she looked sad as she quietly ate. Draco was eating better tonight, Ron observed, but he stopped abruptly when Lucius cleared his throat.

he drawled from behind the paper. I'll be leaving on important business tonight, so be sure to make certain that the house is in good order while I'm away.

Yes, Father. Draco bowed his head, replacing his fork beside his plate. He knew exactly where his father was going, and it wouldn't be long now. Soon the Dark Lord would be paying the Manor a visit.

I'll be away tomorrow as well.

Yes, Father. Draco looked across the table to see that Ron was nearly finished with his meal. May we be excused?

Lucius' hand appeared from behind the paper and waved them away.

Draco stood up instantaneously and quickly strided out of the dining room, feeling his throat tighten as he walked. He had to get to his room. He had to get away from Weasley so he wouldn't see him like this. He hurried up the stairs.

Malfoy. Malfoy! Will you wait? Draco could hear Ron's voice behind him as he reached the top of the stairs and he swerved around and faced the approaching redhead, eyes narrowed.

Who's telling who what to do, Weasel? he asked coolly. Ron paused, staring blankly at him. I tell you what to do, so I won't wait, and I'll tell you gladly to bugger off!

Ron was taken aback. He continued to follow Malfoy as he stormed up the next flight of stairs. Why do you have to always be such a jerk, Malfoy? Why? I mean, clearly something is wrong with you, but you are to proud of yourself to tell anyone!

Draco turned around again at the next floor and said softly but harshly, Do you think I'd tell a poor, stupid mudblood-lover like you that there's something wrong?

Ron growled, This is exactly what I'm talking about! He changed his voice to mimic Malfoy's. Oh, I'm Draco Malfoy and I live in a manor, I have nice clothes and everyone wants to be me, so I can't open up to someone who's several steps below me.

Draco's body felt like it was on fire and his eyes stung with anger. He exploded, All right, Weasley, you want to know what's bothering me?! Erm, it could be the fact that my stupid father is a Death Eater; that, like a Muggle father wants his son to play football, my father wants me to take the Dark Mark, so I can follow that bastard around and wait for him to kill me because I've lost my worth to him! Tears were streaming down Draco's face now as he shouted without breathing. Or perhaps it's because my mother is terminally ill with a virus that no one has ever heard of or can cure, and that she's dying a little bit every day! And, not to mention, if she did die, my father wouldn't even notice!

Draco slumped down onto the top step and buried his head in his pale hands. Ron stood next to him, thoroughly shocked. He felt a gnawing in his stomach which made him feel horrible for saying anything to Draco.

After a tense few minutes, he sighed, and sat down beside the blonde, who now stared ahead of him glumly. I'm sorry. I had no idea it was that bad.

Draco finally looked at him. The skin around his eyes was red from crying. I'm sorry, Ron. I'm sorry for being such a prick, but I don't have any choice. You seem like an okay sort of person, but I can't be friends with you. If it doesn't look like we hate each other, my father can do really terrible things.

Ron blinked a few times, trying to fully process these words. You don't hate me?

Draco shook his head.

Ron almost laughed. That's the first time you said my first name.

Draco nodded, even though he'd said Ron's name many times before. To himself. On his bed.

So, you don't hate Harry and Hermione either?

Draco cleared his throat. No, I actually do dislike Potter and Granger quite a bit.

Ron laughed. Okay. So,

Good night, Weasley. Draco stood and walked the rest of the way to his room. He turned to face a confused-looking Ron once more, then closed the door behind himself.

Ron stared at the closed door for a long time, then ran a hand through his short hair and smiled. What are the odds?



A word from the author: Oi! Long time, no see, eh? I'm awfully sorry I haven't updated until this moment. The excuse is quite the same as before: pure chaos. Surprisingly, my mum and step dad haven't moved us anywhere in months and that, alone, is an improvement. Prep school is almost over for me, and that, as well, is wonderful. The trade off is that I've been doing nothing but looking at universities lately. I admit, I'm not exactly an Oxford sort of student, but I have to go somewhere pretty decent, so searching is a nightmare.

Anyway, thanks soooooo much for your beautiful reviews! I haven't forgotten any of you, and I promise I'll be better about writing. Really. I will. I hope. *g* Tell me what you think of this chapter. I know it's a bit choppy in places, and I deeply apologize. If any of you have ideas for spiffing it up a bit, I'd love to hear them. I realize it probably seems odd that Malfoy would admit to Ron that he would rather be friends, but just bare with me. It all flows together with upcoming events. I think. hehe. All right.

Happy blessings my dears, Delicious love,

-Ebony L