A/N: Long time no update, huh? Sorrys. This part is dedicated to anyone who's been looking forward to an update. :)
Disclaimer: Me no own Harry Potter or any other of his little friends/enemies. All power to J.K.R.
"It isn't that hard to understand. Should have known the Weasel would have gotten so worked up," thought Draco while turning over on the bed.
Thirty minutes had passed since Draco's scene and all was silent save for the cracking of the fire and the slow steady breaths coming from Ron.
"Look at him," thought Draco with slight amusement, "He actually fell asleep. At least the oaf doesn't snore. I doubt I'd last if he did...How can he just sleep like that? I can't fathom why he believed me. I could put him out of his misery right now. I'd never let my guard down. That's the problem with the Dream Team...hmph, well probably not Potter, he can't be that stupid. In general, the DT is too trusting. If it weren't for Granger, I bet the Weasel would be dead...and I'd be frozen to death out there."
Draco got up suddenly, almost unconsciously, with the quilt and draped it over Weasley.
"Ugh, either I'm going soft or I'm taking this whole 'being civil' thing too seriously," thought Draco after covering Ron and looking at his handy work, "Merlin, he looks like such a child..."
Draco stared. He himself had never had time to be a child, so he assumed that he never looked like one, but Weasley was the exact opposite. He'd probably spent his childhood being picked on by brothers and playing games, going to parks, and getting stories read to him. Draco worked and studied as a child. He was punished, never praised. He was never read stories. It's no wonder Weasley looked like a child, even when he wasn't sleeping.
Draco observed him thoughtfully, "He doesn't dress very well. I bet those jeans are the only pants he has, and his sweater, ha, it looks like something his mum picked out. If I were he, I'd wear something more presentable that tones down that ginger hair and brings out those eyes...hmm, blazing blue eyes like orbs filled with water from the deepest part of the ocean..."
Draco absently pushed a stray lock of hair out of Ron's face and placed it behind his ear, causing Ron to stir. Draco snapped his hand back and stood completely still. All Ron did was reposition himself on the chair and whine, "Oh, mum! It's Percy's turn to feed the attic ghoul..." Draco would have cursed himself for not being careful, but he was in too much of a disgusted shock.
It had started off so innocently with him criticizing Weasley's attire then what? He'd compared Ron's eyes to "orbs filled with water from the deepest part of the ocean." Draco shivered, suddenly, then ran to the corner and retched.
Words of affection for Weasley. Draco didn't know what happened to him. He tried to calm himself. Words of affection for Weasley. He'd never had any warm thoughts for anyone, let alone the Weasel, he swore. He'd spent seven years finding joy in annoying Ron and the other two thirds of the Dream Team. Seven years of family insults and snide remarks, loving every time he could get Ron riled up. It was so easy. Watching him turn different shades of red as his anger escalated was something Draco looked forward to. Where had the affection come from? It was morally wrong and disgusting. Draco sat back on the bed, dazed. It was just him being his closet poetic self, that's all. It meant nothing. Draco rolled over on his stomach. He knew it wasn't nothing, but arguing with his feelings made him feel better and helped bottle up the fear, the fear he'd believed he's get over, the fear that had threatened to shatter him since 6th year at Hogwarts.
Flashback: Hogwarts- 3rd day of Winter Holidays; 6th year
Draco sat quietly at the table. An old text was open in front of him and neatly organized notes were surrounding him, but his mind was elsewhere. The library was completely empty; it was after 9pm and even Madame Pince had gone home for the holidays, leaving Draco alone to do his deeds. It was dark save for his wandlight and Draco's breath came out in white wisps. His skin was snowier that usual, his lips chapped and chafed, but Draco hardly noticed.
"I don't think I can do this," said Draco weakly, staring into space, "but I have to. I have to help the cause. Voldemort needs this."...Voldemort. The name itself suggested evil and pain. The name struck fear into the hearts of Wizards everywhere. It was not to be said. It reminded Wizards of a man who killed without mercy. A man who craved power at all costs. A man who would seemingly never die.
When Voldemort first rose to power it was pure chaos. Murders left and right. No one knew who was a Death Eater and who was being controlled. He'd been defeated once before by Harry Potter and spent 14 years regrouping, gathering ranks, and regaining strength. Now he was back to full power and a war was in action. Voldemort's main enemies, Potter and Dumbledore, a fool of a wizard and headmaster of Hogwarts, had started an Order against him so he needed as much assistance as possible to stay ahead. That's were Draco came into play. His father, being a known and feared Death Eater, was basically second in command for Voldemort's cause. It would have been dangerous for Draco to be anything but a follower and a loyal, favored follower at that.
Draco had officially become a Death Eater over the summer and was put to work right away. Firstly, he was an undercover informer at Hogwarts and because of this, Voldemort neglected to give Draco the Dark Mark, the Death Eater brand. Secondly, he was a researcher. He was one of the select few who looked up anything and everything for the Dark Lord, whether he understood it or not. That's why Draco found himself at Hogwarts over the holiday instead of at home eating sweets and pies and pulling crackers. That's why Draco found himself spending hours after hours in the restricted section of the library. That's why Draco found himself alone in the cold, exhausted, and wondering, bitterly at times and hopelessly at others, how he ever got himself into this, but that was another thing all together.
Draco had begun to doubt being a Death Eater. He began to doubt the lifestyle. Being feared had its perks, but Draco saw the reaction after Lucius was outted in 5th year. Children ran from his family on the streets. Respectable, but non-Death Eater, families spat at them but then recoiled in fear. But that was nothing. It was the murders that began to change his mind and one in particular that made him voice his doubts.
Julia.
Draco loved Julia. He'd known her since they were little stuck-up five year olds who refused to even breathe the same air as a muggle to the proud amusement of their parents. They were inseparable until they turned eleven, when Draco went to Hogwarts and Julia went to Durmstrang. They insisted on being with each other everyday during the summer holidays and that's why Draco was there when it happened the summer before 5th year, sitting on Julia's bed, right next to her, holding her hand. He was right next to her when green light filled the room, when a concentrated green beam hit Julia in the chest, the force of it causing Draco to fall backwards onto the bed.
Draco never really knew why it happened or who had killed her, the fiend had been wearing a Death Eater mask. All he knew was that Julia's parents had to have pissed off Voldemort big time resulting in the dreadful demise of the beautiful tan skinned, green eyed, brown haired Julia, Draco's true love.
When Draco had woken up, he was in his bed, covered in quilts, being watched over by a troop of house elves. He called weakly for his mother, knowing he'd be able to get a straight answer out of her. "Why? Why was she murdered?" he'd asked. Unblinkingly Mrs. Malfoy had said, "Her parents were filth. They disobeyed Lord Voldmort. She deserved it by default. Do not question, it's not worth your time." Draco had been shocked and dumbfounded by his mother's answer. Mrs. Malfoy had to have loved Julia like a daughter, almost as much as Draco had. So, all Draco could do was listen to her and he stopped asking, but he still couldn't forget her and the injustice of what happened.
So there Draco was, sitting in the now abandoned library, cold and alone, wishing he were warm and alone in his room. Draco was so deep in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice when Ron stalked into the library, trying his best to look inconspicuous. Draco smirked in spite of himself and ended the spell that kept his wand lit. Ron walked past him, not seeing Draco in the darkness, and lit his wand once he'd entered the restricted section of the library.
Draco couldn't help himself, the urge to do something was to great. He had kept his holiday plans to stay at Hogwarts a secret from everyone and only left his dorm to go to the library and the owlery to send and receive messages and parcels of food. Although he'd never admit it, he found himself longing for human company and bothering Weasley would be the perfect antidote.
Draco got up slowly from his chair and followed Ron's wand light deep into the library where he found him engrossed in scanning the shelves. Just as Draco was about to scare the living crap out of Ron, something happened; Draco came to his senses.
"What in Merlin's name am I doing? Just because I'm stranded in here like a commoner doesn't mean I have to resort to muggle scare tactics on Gryffindors," thought Draco while sitting back down at his table.
Two minutes later, Weasley walked out from the restricted section.
"Restricted section of the library, eh?" said Draco suddenly
Weasley jumped.
"Who's there?" asked Ron while looking around and brandishing his lit wand like a torch, but to no avail. Draco was seated too far in the gloom to be noticed by cursory wand strokes.
He, Draco, continued, "Very suspicious. Maybe I should alert Dumbledore? There's a traitor in our midst, eh Weasley?"
"Malfoy," said Weasley suddenly.
"Aww, am I caught?" inquired Draco sarcastically.
"Show yourself, you rat," spat Weasley.
"Or what? You'll get the mudblood to hex me for you? Oh, I'm so scared."
"Shut up, Malfoy, Hermione isn't even here and I'm more than willing to kick your arse myself."
"Granger isn't here? Hmm, how will you and Potter ever survive without her telling you what to do, where to go, how to breathe?"
"Whatever, Malfoy. Unlike you, we don't need someone to command us around, tell us how to live, and-"
"Oh right, the mudblood does all your homework while you play wife to Scarhead and he tells you what to do. How is your darling anyway?"
"He isn't even here, so-"
"He isn't here?"
"No, Dumbledore sent him to...wait a minute, you dirty little...you're trying to get information out of me. Show yourself right now!"
"I assure you, Weasley, if I wanted information out of you, I wouldn't bother with all the pleasantries. Besides none of the information you'd give me would be worth it, I'm sure. Plus, if I were really such a threat, Dumbledore wouldn't let me stay here, so get over yourself, wifey."
"...You know what? Fuck you, Malfoy. This is bullocks and I have things to do," said Ron after a few moments of quiet angry mutterings.
Draco smirked, relishing in the fast that he'd won, but then his sudden joy faded when he saw Ron start to walk toward the library's exit. Draco hadn't even realized how much he'd needed the human contact, even if it was arguing with Weasley, and he couldn't bare to just let him go.
"Lumos!"
Ron stopped in his tracks and turned around. A bright light shown from a corner of the library. Sitting there with piles of books in front of him was Draco. He was showing himself. Neither Ron nor Draco knew what to do next or what to say at that point. An awkward silence entered the room and a bewildered Ron stared at Draco who looked calm and cool about the whole situation.
"Well," said Draco suddenly, "You've won. I've shown myself-"
"Wha-why?" asked Ron, cutting him off.
"I assure you, your tiny Gryffindor brain could never fathom the inner workings of a Malfoy's, let alone a Slytherin's, mind. So, I suggest you do what you need to and leave me be," said Malfoy effortlessly while flipping a page in his book.
Ron stood still for a moment, obviously trying to decide whether he'd stay or go. It was apparent what decision he'd made when he'd suddenly turned around and headed straight towards the entrance.
"And if Snape found you with that book I'm sure he'd invite you to his room for tea and a quick discussion on the character's motives and the theme, right?" said Draco without looking up from the page he'd started taking notes from.
A small smile played across Draco's lips as he heard Ron rush to a table and take a seat.
"Perhaps staying at Hogwarts over the holidays will serve to be more interesting and useful than I'd thought," thought Draco while watching Ron flip pages from the corner of his eye.
A/N: A review would be lovely, especially since I don't particularly like this chap. It would be good to know what yall think.