Author's notes: This is just an interlude. I wanted to try the previous chapter from Ron's POV.
I will get back to the regularly scheduled story after I've gotten this out of my system, I promise.
Sleeping With Thine Enemies (Part 4A)
Ron lies on the mattress in his cell and stares out into the darkness that surrounds him, his thoughts winding unrestricted through his mind.
It has been, in his best estimate, three days since he's seen Malfoy, Jr. It is only an estimate - since there is no natural light to indicate time's passing, he goes by how often a tiny house elf brings him food, cleans him up, and illuminates the dungeon.
Three days . . .
He wonders if he will be so lucky as to go another night without his company. He fears that Draco will come back and somehow get the courage to finish what he had started. He fears that Draco will walk in here, call him a liar again, and hurt him like his father has. He's fairly certain that he will go completely mad if father and son start passing him back and forth between them like a second-hand toy.
At the thought of Lucius, Ron's heart begins to beat faster. He does fear Draco to a certain extent, yes. But that fear is mostly based on uncertainty; the little bastard may or may not hurt him at any given time. But when he thinks of Lucius, Ron's fear heightens into near terror; all-encompassing and all-powerful. There is no uncertainty when it comes to Malfoy, Sr.
Lucius will hurt him. And he will enjoy doing so.
Ron closes his eyes, suddenly feeling very weary and much older than his sixteen years. His eyelids begin to grow heavy and he lets them close, although he knows that he won't be sleeping anytime soon.
A moment later he hears something shuffling in the darkness. He opens his eyes very wide and listens intently. For a brief second, he thinks he sees movement within the shadows. He stays like this for a few minutes, every one of his senses on alert, but when he neither sees nor hears anything else, he tells himself that it was only an illusion caused by the shadows and his lack of sleep. His body relaxes again and his eyes droop closed.
He doesn't know how long he lingers here, in the twilight world between awake and asleep, but soon enough he hears the unmistakable sound of something moving within the dungeon. No illusion this time. Again he tenses and opens his eyes and sees a silvery light in the distance. When the light begins to move toward him, brightening the dungeons as it does so, Ron has to bite hard on his lower lip in order not to scream. He hates this part - the waiting, the anticipation -almost as much as the rapes themselves.
As the light continues to draw closer, Ron is finally able to discern that it is Lucius who has come to see him. He scoots back on the mattress as he watches the blond monster's slow, steady approach. His mind barely has time to register that he was hoping it was Draco before it moves onto other, more pressing, matters.
Like survival.
Lucius opens the door to the cell and steps inside and Ron, despite his weakness, pushes himself up to a sitting position. He may feel weak, but he'll be damned if he's going to show it.
"Ronald."
Ron suppresses a shiver at hearing his name come from those foul lips. He refuses to answer, opting instead to glare daggers at the man he has come to hate more than anything.
"Did you miss me, Ronald?" Lucius says as he begins to sidestep closer.
The slippery, seductive tone of that voice is enough to make Ron feel ill. He swallows hard and forces himself to continue to glare.
Lucius leans forward, just a bit, and smiles. "What is the matter? Why so untalkative today?"
The sick absurdity of the question finally forces Ron to speak. "Just do it and get it over with, Malfoy," he spits out, hoping that he sounds brave and angry when inside he feels like a little boy lost in the dark.
"You should know by now I like to take my time," Lucius replies smoothly.
Before Ron can even think to respond to that, Lucius mutters his binding spell. Ron can feel his arms being forcibly moved to behind his back, where cold metal wraps around his wrists and joins them together. Instinctively, he struggles against the bindings, managing only to succeed in further damaging his already abraded wrists.
"God dammit Malfoy, leave me the fuck alone!" Ron shouts as he looks up in time to see that Lucius is setting down his wand and unbuttoning his pants.
Seeing this, any small bit of anger that Ron has been holding onto is replaced by sheer terror. He tries to move away, crab-walking on his chained hands and feet, but he has barely moved when Lucius wraps one hand around his ankle and yanks down. He kicks out blindly, and feels a surge of triumph when he connects with something and hears the ensuing groan. But Lucius isn't one to take a hit and stay down; a lesson Ron learned on his very first day here. It takes the man only seconds to recover enough to slam his hand hard across Ron's face; not once but twice. Then the hand curls into a fist and plunges into his stomach.
This last blow causes all the air to rush from his body and he is left struggling to breathe past an almost overwhelming pain. He doesn't even feel it when his pants are pulled off of his body and discarded. He barely feels it when Lucius lowers himself onto him, all roaming hands and grabbing fingers.
By the time he is able to draw a shaky breath and think past the pain in his gut, Lucius has moved on to planting little kisses along his collarbone. Ron tries to shout, "Stop," but all he can manage to produce is a strangled whisper.
Lucius runs a hand over his hair in a parody of comfort and says, "Shh . . . quiet boy, quiet . . . "
Ron's fight or flight instinct kicks into high gear when he feels Lucius' hands running along his inner thighs. He begins to strain desperately, moving his body almost convulsively to try to get free, to try to stop what is about to happen.
Then Lucius places one hand against his left shoulder, pressing it down against the floor while the other hand is fumbling around down there; preparing, readying . . .
When Lucius finally does manages to enter him, Ron screams. And when Lucius begins to move inside of him, setting up a rhythm that Ron can't help but go along with, he begins to sob. He doesn't want to, he wants to be stoic and strong, but the tears are coming too fast to stop.
As the assault continues, turning almost monotonous, Ron shuts his eyes and tries to imagine himself somewhere far away from here, somewhere safe; maybe playing Quidditch with Harry or studying with Hermione. Anywhere but here - in this hell with this monster.
It almost works, Ron can almost imagine that he is in a good place, until he hears the monster's voice again. "Tell me how much you like this, Weasley. Tell me how much you love it."
With the return of reality comes the return of the pain in his body. Half-delirious with it, he mutters, "No . . . "
Lucius digs his fingers deep into Ron's shoulder and chuckles. "Come on. Be a good boy. Tell me you love this. Tell me. You. Love. Me."
That does it. Ron has never heard anything so fucking ridiculous or sick in his life. For a moment all he can feel is bewilderment, and then a white-hot anger that threatens to explode from him. "I hate you! I hate this and I hate you! You make me sick!" he screams as loudly as he can.
Lucius snarls, his teeth bared. He raises one hand and back-hands Ron hard across the face. Ron's head is rocked to the side from the force of the blow. He opens his eyes immediately, ready to tell Lucius again how much he "loves" him, when he spots a familiar face behind one of the pillars. He gives a small, inaudible gasp when he realizes that it is Draco and that he has probably been here this entire time. Watching. Unnerved he turns back to Lucius who is speaking to him yet again, this time in angry tones.
"You ingrate. You pathetic, little ingrate. I keep you here, when I could take you to the Dark Lord. You should be grateful."
Ron opens his mouth to give a nasty retort, but just then Lucius chooses to push into him so hard and fast that it takes his breath away. He turns his head to the other side and stares at the wall, determined not to say anything else. He counts the cracks in it, notes the different stains on it, anything to distract himself from the fact that Lucius is still inside of him and that Draco is watching it all.
He almost manages to lose himself in his study, when he notices that Lucius has begun to move more quickly; frantically almost. Ron knows from experience that he will be done soon. He takes a deep breath and tells himself to hold on, that it will just be a little longer.
And indeed, it is only another minute before Lucius groans, stills, then gives a little shudder before finally pulling out.
Ron keeps his eyes glued to that wall, not bothering to see that Lucius is now dressing himself. He doesn't look when Lucius bends down over him and undoes the binding spell, telling him how wonderful and simply delicious he was.
It's only when he feels the blanket thrown haphazardly across his body and sees the dungeon once again plunged into darkness that Ron blinks and moves his head. He grabs the blanket and covers himself with it, not noticing that he is clutching it so tightly that his knuckles are white from the effort.
He then turns his head in the direction of the cell door and waits for Draco.
It takes a while for Draco to show himself, but Ron is patient. Finally, from seemingly out of nowhere, light materializes. And from this light, a pale figure emerges.
Ron watches him in silence. Only when the other boy has dropped to his knees beside him does he speak. "Do you believe me now?" he asks in a whisper, feeling proud of himself for the note of sarcasm he put in the question.
Draco doesn't say anything for such a long time that Ron believes that the other boy will never respond.
"I didn't want to believe it," Draco says eventually.
'No duh, Draco. Really?' Ron thinks.
"How often does he . . . ?"
Ron answers before the question is even finished. "Every night. He's here every night."
Draco seems to consider this for a moment and before moving a little closer, his hand extended as if he's about to touch Ron. Ron flinches automatically. The last thing that he can handle right now is Malfoy molesting him. If he does, Ron is sure he will throw up, go insane, attack Malfoy, die . . . any number of scenarios actually. And none of them good.
"Calm down, Weasley. I wasn't going to touch you!" Draco says.
Ron's small moment of fear quickly turns into relief. A relief so great that as he turns his head to the ceiling and puts his hands over his face, he begins to giggle from the sheer enormity of it. "I thought that . . . I thought that you were . . . "
"Well, I wasn't. For God's sake, Weasley. You're not irresistible, you know. Just because my father is a sick pervert, doesn't mean that I . . . and why are you laughing? This isn't funny!"
Ron pulls his hands away from his face and resumes clutching at the blanket. He barely notices the fact that he is crying now as well. Crying and laughing at the same time. "It's not funny; it's not," he says over and over again; knowing it's not but for some reason unable to stop.
Beside him, Draco stands up. "Maybe I should go."
Ron stops laughing abruptly. Draco sounded uncomfortable just then. Draco probably thinks he's lost it. Which means that he probably has. Suddenly things aren't so funny anymore. Being a lunatic is no cause for humor. Ron takes a deep breath and lets it out shakily. "All right," he agrees. Oddly enough, he doesn't really want Draco to go, but he has no reason to make him stay.
As Draco begins to turn to leave, a question occurs to him. "Malfoy?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you come here?"
"To prove that you were a liar, Weasley."
"I'm not," he says just a bit indignantly.
Draco nods and says, "I know," before turning around and beginning to walk forward.
Ron watches him get as far as the cell door before he speaks again. Again that there's that strange sense of not wanting Draco to leave. "Malfoy?"
Draco does not turn. "What?" he asks.
He asks the first question that pops into his mind. "Does your father know you come here?" he asks.
Still Draco does not turn. He doesn't even move. He goes very still and says nothing, as if he has to devote all his energy and thought to this question.
And so without even speaking, Draco has told Ron what he wanted to know. He whispers, "It's ok. I won't tell." Hr knows that Draco will understand. These clandestine little meetings are for him and Draco only; involving Lucius would be akin to one of them committing a sin against the other.
"Goodnight Weasley," Draco says just before he walks through the door and locks it behind him.
Ron is about to say goodnight; the word is on the tip of his tongue, when something else comes to mind. A question that suddenly seems very important.
"Are you coming back?" he asks almost shyly.
He hears Draco mutter, "Nox," an infinitesimal second before he is once again plunged into total darkness.
It is through that same darkness that Draco's voice comes once more, steady yet somehow sad. "You know I will," he says.