Death, caught unawares can obviously stifle one's being. This particular death, however, had freed mine. Having the untimely and oh so unfortunate, I describe with ever acerbic and sarcastic fiber, death in my quite estranged "family" had solved many things.
No longer will my parents have to be enslaved by him, nor any other dark lords. They won't have to pretend to take his word like if it were from a god, nor will I have to prance around with the mark proving the allegiances I swore on falsely.
Now I don't have to see those blue eyes staring at it, hating a part of my body, while his is perfect and untainted. While under this supposed "dark" influence I savored this body and after a while, savored the being within. It was his love, not the hatred emitting from the dark side, that attracted me to the side that I ultimately chose.
The war being shockingly short at the beginning of our last year, the Boy Who Always Got in the Way did what he had to in order to kill Voldemort. He saved the wizarding world within a week, blah de fucking blah, we know the story.
Now that everything is safe for everyone else, I can be ensured safety within the fiery red mop top I can't shake off. We are now unhinged by anything; society, peers, hate, or any feeling other than love. Even as I walk down to my room in the dungeons from the Astronomy Tower, I still feel as giddy as one of Potter's groupies after happening to catch his eye across the Great Hall. Each time the blue sparkling orbs of intense love and energy catches mine I don't want to think back to a time where I had to conceal them.
I know he's waiting in my room, on my bed. Only when it comes to our rendez-vous he arrives early. It doesn't matter to me where we meet but I love it when he suggests it to be my room. I can take him in to my personal world all night and wake up with him in my arms until the sun decides to torture us with its, should be illegal, inevitable presence.
Before the hour of which the dark side perished, I wouldn't dare dream about taking him near my traitorous hideout. Now it's all different and my thoughts scurry to the pace I've thoroughly increased on my way there. I finally arrive at the dungeons, panting, yet near bouncing, and make my way up to the private room.
Slightly opening the door, I peek in to spy on my boyfriend. Sitting cross-legged in the remote center of my bed, Ron was flipping through his favourite Quidditch magazine. His head tilted forward and down, the long locks blocked his sight elsewhere than the pages. I'm so glad he complied when I asked him to grow those orange tendrils out; he looks like the real lion I know he is. Entering as quietly as possible, I make my way to in front of my bed without even a glance from him beyond the magazine.
"Sometimes I wonder, you know," I draw out, causing Ron to snap his head up, obviously taken by surprise. This causes the pause and I smile before continuing, "If you really enjoy the magazine for the articles or is it the middle section with all the photos of them practicing without their shirts on that makes you so interested?"
Ron pulled an amused face and placed the magazine down in front of him, keeping his page. He fixed his gaze on me while he lazily replied, "You're late. What else was I supposed to do in the meantime? Also, this just happened to appear with my owl today."
"Well I got sick of you stealing mine," I commented bemused. "But I hope you won't mind me doing this," I trailed off, picking up the pages and flinging it off the bed. Ron leaned into the space between us and extended his arm to pull me onto the bed by my tie.
"Depends…" Ron began, lying back as his tugging continued. This places me above him, supporting myself with my arms and I smile.
Thing is, something had been kind of nagging me and being Draco Malfoy, nothing bothers me without me expressing it, "Hey Ron, I was in the Astronomy Tower and…"
"How romantic," Ron cut in sarcastically, steadying my frame with his own wiry arms.
"Well I was thinking…Ron stop," I warned the boy sincerely beneath me to his ministrations. Presently Ron's hand is half way down my shirt with every intention to unbutton it.
With a sigh he complied. "What is it Draco darling? This thought process really important?" he replied almost bitterly at the refusal.
"Yeah. It kind of is…" I responded, miffed as ever; since when doesn't someone not want to hear what I have to say? "Before the war…" I started after running my hand through my hair (which didn't help, mind you, as the hair still fell in front of me) only once again to be disrupted.
"War talk again? Drac- seriously, is this the time for insight?" Ron posed as he tried himself to move the stray blonde fringe, failing, and sighed softly. "I mean, look at our current positioning. I've been hard for the past half hour waiting for you…"
"Yeah but it was what happened in that time that I want to talk about, Ron," I replied, somewhat immaturely; people are not supposed to interrupt me.
Ron smiled as if I was a child (guess he caught on to my current frame of mind). "Come on Drac- surely it can wait…" he said as he pushed my waist down, meeting his expectant hips with a small groan.
I took the opportunity when he closed his eyes to twist out of his grip and slide to his side. Another sigh, this time with a large twinge of annoyance, was elicited by Ron and he turned to his right to face me, supporting himself by his elbow. His eyes, just beaming with languor, lightly caught mine. "What's wrong?" he drew out, grabbing and rubbing my wrist absentmindedly.
I gazed back at the blue orbs and resisted showing any emotion in my eyes. He always catches even the slightest mood change within me by staring intensely as he tends to do…is doing now. "You aren't satisfied with me…" I begin before the hand on my wrist is over my mouth. Just like the Gryffindor he is, stopping all rationality early on without listening to any more than he feels he needs to. That's been getting on my nerves lately.
"What are you talking about?" he more demands than asks.
I close my eyes, sighing. "No. I mean…after the war…" I say against his hand.
Ron keeps his hand on my mouth and presses lightly with a "Shhh." (Pfft, he really needs to stop interrupting me; I am a Malfoy after all.) "After the war so much changed…" he cut in, with a serious intonation. I figure he might actually say something profound and of substance other than "shut up and fuck me now" so I don't interrupt as his hand leaves my mouth to resume its ministrations on my wrist.
"…Everything that did change was great." His hand slowly creeped up my forearm, bringing my sleeve up with it. "One of the best things was this awful mark disappeared…" he ran his thumb over the spot where it once was. I couldn't help but moan because the area was still sensitive; it had been since I got the damn mark…some sort of sick torture the dark lords probably had in mind.
Ron shyly smiled before continuing, "It felt like I had to share your body with a force I sure as hell couldn't reckon with…but now your body is all mine." He enclosed the gap between us and kissed my lips rather too forcefully for my tastes.
Honestly! I'm trying to have a conversation one of the few times I'm not horny enough to want to ravish him in as many ways I can. I sharply pull away and sit up. "My body is all yours? Is that all you want? How about my mind, does that aspect of me not interest you in the slightest?" I roll my eyes, get off the bed, and stumble to the window. That was rather girly, I admit, but I'm hoping the artificial (being in the dungeons) scene of rolling hills and sunshine at my window will hopefully balance the sting of pain suddenly throbbing within me.
Ron still sat on the bed, or at least he didn't make any noise getting up, with his confused, "I'm a fucktard, ergo I have no clue how to handle this diving being in front of me" look upon his face, I bet.
"What's on your mind," he replied exasperated. "Is it really worth bringing the war back up? You know I hate thinking about that time."
I tried not to snarl with contempt. "Oh because you lost so much in that week…while you were going a dry sex spell, well I doubt you lasted that long, do I need to remind you that I had to fight for my family and damn near everyone close to me from the dark side? I hardly call that distressing," I snap back, getting really upset now.
"That's the reason I don't like thinking about it!" Ron shouts, moving up behind me. He tries to pull my chin away from the window, but I stubbornly shove my neck back to its previous position. He sighs and sits next to me, his leg sliding around my outer hip, his other leg in my lap.
"I hate thinking back to the time that you had to be so painfully secretive with everything. When I also couldn't have you exclusively, kiss you in public…kiss you in your bed. I'd rather not dwell on the war or anything before that. I much prefer the present when I can have you whenever I want…and not just your hot, should be criminal it's so ethereal, body," he added reassuringly with a small smile.
At that ego boost, naturally it was the last straw and I turned to face the sparkling boy of my own with a small smile.
"But honestly, what's with the 'I doubt you lasted' shit? Do you think I got any on the side while being with you?" Ron inquired with interest and indignance.
I shrug, "No, I think you're a nymphomaniac who wouldn't last a withdrawal from my so-called ethereal body for long."
Ron shook his head, smiling, "So I'm going to ignore that supposition…you know you're a fucking genius with a stunning mind. And don't think that I don't listen in on your post-coital ramblings after you think I'm asleep…"
My eyed widened slightly at the realization, oh shit.
The smile on the redhead's face brightened, before receding. "Yeah Mr. Romantic. It fills my heart more than the Quidditch pitch, pudding pie, fuck, even chocolate frogs. See…" he ran his fingers through his hair; he always does this when he's anxious. "I just never said anything because I'm nowhere near as well versed, or even versed. I couldn't be romantic if my life depended on it," Ron sadly laughed. "A fine example being my previous attempts to shut you up earlier."
Now it's my turn to interrupt as I fiercely kiss his near pouting, red mouth, briefly sliding my tongue across his lips. I break free quickly to give him a supportive smile, "The technique works fine on you. Just listen to me when I need to vent, I am a Malfoy after…" before I can more of a prat he resumes my previous action; he hates when I blame my insolence on my lineage.
After a swift, yet very passionate, kiss his eyes stare into mine. "You might be a completely useless brat but I love you Draco…really I do," he piped in before kissing me once again.
Despite its insulting lilt, that's the most romantic thing my lion could ever say to charm me.