BETWEEN YOU AND ME
The final war is now behind them, which leaves only the future before them. The problem is, now the future is becoming rapidly unstable. With the past creeping in and shocking discoveries leaving everyone on edge, friendships, relationships and faith will be tested and not without scrutiny or angst.
/…/
DISCLAIMER: All characters, settings, and magical occurrences were all conceived and created in the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling. Nothing except the glorious plot is property of mine. No profits are being made from my writing.
ANOTHER WARNING: This story will contain some SLASH, as it will be the main pairing. If this bothers, offends, or just grosses you out, you can save yourself a lot of pain and heartburn and just click the back button. Otherwise, stick around. I can only hope not to disappoint. I suppose it's best to point out that there will be HBP spoilers throughout. Though the main story takes place following the impending war the stories depict. Lyrics by the Goo Goo Dolls...
/…/
I think about you all the time
But I don't need to think
If it's lonely where you are, come back down
And I won't tell your name
"Malfoy?"
"Weasley."
"What are you doing here?"
"Would you think me mad if I told you that I wasn't entirely certain?" Draco asked, fidgeting a bit in the open door way.
"I think you're a bit mad anyway."
"Fair enough. Can I come in?"
"Are you going to curse me or inflict bodily harm upon me in any way?" Ron asked a bit skeptically. Draco had never even visited his flat with Harry. Though it was all for good reason. Seeing him here that evening was throwing him even more off kilter. It was easier when he didn't have those distractions on his mind.
"Given my current state, I'm not sure that would be in my best interest," Draco assured him at which Ron uneasily stepped back and allowed him entrance. "Uhh…nice place you have here, Weasley," Draco commented slowly, taking in the small space.
It was obvious that the redhead had done most of the decorating himself. It didn't really capture one specific style or really any when Draco thought about it. But it was certainly lived in and was covered with pictures. Weasley was more sentimental that he'd have ever given him credit for.
"I hope you didn't come all the way over here to insult my decorating?"
"You call this decorating?" Draco shot back at him with a bit of a smirk. The serious look that was returned back at him was enough to wipe it away. Of course, friendly banter probably wasn't allowed.
"Honestly, Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Ron pushed further, taking a seat, nodding for Draco to do the same should he choose to.
"I'm not entirely certain. I was at the office and Harry called via the fire and it just seemed off. And I couldn't sit in that stuffy little room any longer and somehow I ended up here. Strange as it seems that of all the places in London I wound up at your flat."
Ron studied him a moment. He would go out on a limb and assume that Draco hadn't been too forward with sharing Harry related information with anyone else. And even though it was still a bit awkward between the two of them and the man in question's best friend, somehow that seemed to matter naught.
"Would you like something to drink?"
"Strongest thing you have."
"Alright then," Ron stood up and started for into his kitchen, tossing a look over his shoulder at the blonde who had finally taken a seat on his sofa. He could almost laugh at the irony. Though he wasn't sure that was the best reaction to the situation.
Instead of laughing it off, he poured two glasses full of scotch, depositing one in Draco's hand, leaving the bottle upon the coffee table. The blonde did not waste any time in taking in the liquid. Ron realized he'd never actually been around a drunk Draco Malfoy. Then he threw in for good measure that it couldn't be worse than a sober one.
"It just doesn't seem fair, you know? I did everything right. I mean I sucked it up and got on relatively well with you lot," Draco started in between drinks. Ron snickered at that comment. Relatively well his arse. "I just changed so much of myself. It just seemed worth it. And then this. Just goes to show you, Weasley. Even the innocent and naïve can surprise you. I just feel stupid for letting it happen."
Ron wouldn't admit it but he could understand what Draco was feeling so he took that in stride and let himself fall silent, nursing his own glass. Hell, if you can't beat them, join them. And on this path, he and Draco would be trashed before midnight.
"You think I deserve this, don't you? Years of bad karma paying me back or some bull? After everything I did to you aside that is."
Ron shook his head, choosing to carefully sidestep any mention of himself and Draco. "No Malfoy, even you don't really deserve to be treated like that. Though if you ask me in the morning, I will blame it all on the scotch."
"Touché. Though I was already planning on it. Pouring my sad, pathetic life out to you? I won't be bragging."
"Perhaps you should place insults more carefully, Malfoy. I won't feel bad about chucking you out," Ron warned half-heartedly. Truth be told he wasn't sure how he felt about the conversation they were having. It had been such a long time since there had been a real one.
"Empty threats. Your poor Gryffindor heart is already bleeding for me," Draco came back with a smirk. Ron just rolled his eyes and offered another glass to them both.
"Are you always such a prat?"
"No, I think you just manage to always catch me at my best. Most find me terribly delightful."
It took everything Ron had to refrain from severely laughing in Draco's face. Ron had known the blonde a very long time. Long enough to know that he wasn't the only one who didn't always see eye to eye with the once Slytherin. Their pasts considered and aside.
"Can I ask you a serious question, completely off topic?" Ron managed, eyes meeting Draco's after a long stint upon the ground.
"Why not? I can blame the alcohol later."
"What made you decide to come back after what happened that night with Dumbledore? You could've stayed hidden," Ron felt strange never having asked these questions before. But he'd just made his own assumptions and they'd called a silent truce against bring Draco's past into their present.
"And then never returned back again. I knew that I'd made my mistakes but it unfortunately became time that I lived up to them. Besides, I'd not actually done anything too terrible. Yes, I had let the Death Eaters in the castle but they were easily taken care of. My only real crime was that I'd attempted murder of the headmaster and Snape had taken that for me. Besides, it was pretty obvious I was just a pawn. One of the many," He concluded bitterly, letting the scotch wash down his throat.
Ron sat thoughtful for a moment and supposed it made sense. It just wouldn't have been an easy decision. Everyone was pitted against you already and then to top that off, any credibility you had was shot as Snape was even more despised. It was a tough spot but he had to feel some sort of respect in the decision to come back and help out in the ways that Draco had. Or maybe it was just the alcohol talking.
It was hours later and both of them could feel the alcohol starting to surge through their veins as Draco topped off both of their glasses with the last of the scotch. He shook the bottle a second before letting it roll off his fingers and onto the floor beside him. He didn't quite remember how they had both gotten onto the ground versus the furniture.
"No, no. You have to admit that song was catchy," Draco slurred out, taking a sip from his glass, giving no mind to the lack of taste the beverage now held. The tune had begun vibrating lightly in the back of his throat.
"I will give you that. How long did you spend working on that by the way?"
"Actually only a few hours. Yes once I had a general idea, it was rather easy to get it all to fall into place."
"I'd be lying if I said I was impressed," Ron smirked at him, taking a larger gulp from his glass.
"Oh say what you want but when it came to creativity, I took the cake," Draco spouted off in a haughty tone. Ron just shook his head with a bit of a laugh. "I find this not to be a laughing matter. Just yet another chance for you to embrace my superior wit."
"Superior wit my arse. You just had more spare time than I did," Ron teased back which rewarded him a glare. Or what would've appeared to be a glare had their alcohol levels not been so incredibly high.
"I beg to differ. I would've finished at the top of the class just behind Granger had I had the chance. Things just got in the way. Spare time was not in an abundance," Draco defended, sealing his point with a long drink. Things would've been a lot different had they all finished school. The only of the bunch to go back had of course been Hermione. She'd had too many plans to just leave her schooling at the level she had. As for the others, well they'd gained enough in the face of battle to find that anything they'd learn in a classroom would be menial in comparison.
They were silent a moment, both of them letting it all sort of sink in. Draco soon noticed Ron eyeing his left arm with what appeared to be morbid curiosity. It didn't take two guesses as to why. First with his questioning earlier and just the shared past. When things had happened between them before, they were very careful to avoid anything concerning Draco's mark. It was still a dangerous time for a Death Eater defect. Draco set his glass down and slipped off his robes, letting them fall atop the sofa. He then set about rolling up the sleeves to the sweater he wore beneath it. Where one might expect the pale skin to lie unmarred, a dark outline fell.
Ron held his gaze upon the mark for a long while. He actually never had any time to take a good look at what one actually looked like. Especially now since most of the former Death Eaters were either locked up or dead. With very few exceptions to the rule, and one was sitting just beside him. He let his curiosity get the better of him and he moved his fingertips along the mark, following along the contours, out to the tip of tongue of the snake.
Draco did nothing but sit and watch him, feeling slightly breathless. He hadn't ever encouraged much attention in the way of his scar. Firstly because most would not understand what he'd been through in that situation. Secondly because it was the past and it seemed to trudge up too many bad memories along the way. But it didn't seem to bother him as Ron inspected it very thoroughly. Both pairs of eyes never leaving the dark mark, seemingly understanding the great impact it had made on Draco's life and then in turn Ron's as well.
"Were you very scared that night?" Ron asked, throat sounding a bit hoarse, his body moving closer to Draco's.
"Petrified," Draco responded softly, gravitating towards the redhead as well, all sense of judgement drowning hopelessly in the pool of scotch and memory.
"I'm sorry," Ron's breath crept across Draco's cheek, the blonde's eyes fluttering shut then open again at the sensation.
"Nothing you could've done. It was my fate. Perhaps like this," Draco trailed off as both of them gave in to the desire slowly building between them.
Their mouths crashed together in a drunken clank that seemed to cause little bother at all. They rebounded quickly though and wasted not a second to become better acquainted with the other, washing away the lost years as though it were nothing. Not a single thought that the person on the other end of the kiss was who they were. No worries at all in fact.
It turned into such a natural thing, clothes slowly being discarded, cups crashing over spilling their contents over the carpet. Mouths growing sloppy as their persistent need began to grow. It wasn't until now that it occurred to Ron that he hadn't exactly been too well versed the last time and nothing had changed since then. And that had been years before. Draco sensed the unease that fell between them and mistook it.
"I'm sorry…"
"No, it's fine. I just haven't done this since…" Ron trailed off, leaning back a little, lifting his weight from the blonde.
"Oh. Then just let me," Draco spoke softly, eyes fascinated upon his fingers as they began to undo the belt of Ron's pants.
Ron's breath hitched in his throat as nimble fingers slipped through the button on his pants, descending further. To add to the sensation growing as Draco's fingers began to work over the growing bulge in his pants, Draco's lips ghosted across his shoulder, moving easily up and upon his neck.
Draco took this in stride and lifted his own body up and over to straddle Ron's easily. Both hands began to tug lightly against the pants he still wore, sliding them down and off, letting them land in a pile elsewhere. As the blonde's fingers began to work at removing his own pants, his neck was swiftly assaulted, causing his own ministrations to falter, a soft moan emitted from the back of his throat.
Soon Draco had managed to remove all of the clothing that remained in the way and with the help of a quick charm, prepared Ron and himself for what would follow next. He lifted himself up and then slowly came back down upon Ron, bringing the two of them together. Ron's arms instantly reached around, his fingers digging slightly into the skin above Draco's shoulder blades, pulling the two of them as close as they could possibly manage.
Both of Draco's hands pushed against the couch, falling upon both sides of Ron's head, his gray eyes masked, mouth fumbling against the other. Ron's thrusts started out slowly and unsure, his initial concern being that of Draco. But soon as he learned he wasn't the only one enjoying any of this, he picked the pace up, drawing deeper moans from his companion, which only pushed him closer to the edge. As quick as it had come, Ron could feel himself slipping close to the edge, nails digging deeper into Draco's back. And in their euphoria, Ron finished himself off, the action sending Draco over the edge as well. Out of pure impulse, he more or less collapsed against the other body; leaving Ron still buried inside of him.
"Pretty damn good for an amateur," Draco muttered breathlessly against Ron's ear. This fixed something of a smile upon Ron's lips as he loosened his grip, letting their breathing fall into a mutual rhythm, sleep wasting no time in taking them both.
/…/
There was a moment where Ron wondered if he was insane. If he had finally actually gone over the deep end to where he would not return. He had to have to be actually considering confessing some sort of feelings to the least likely person. Sitting nervously at the table in Grimmauld Place, he tapped his fingers lightly on the table, feeling more anxious than he had since the war had ended months before.
And instead of joining in all of the festivities, Ron had stepped back and taken the time he needed to get his mind cleared out and to figure out what he was actually doing in the process. He'd somewhere along the way found himself in an interesting relationship of sorts with Draco Malfoy. The kind that he still couldn't exactly explain. Which would be difficult, as he would have to try in a few short hours when he returned with Harry from France on some minor follow up cases. Mainly the spotting of Draco's father.
He found himself surprisingly upbeat. There had been moments in the months before when he became baffled as to how he'd manage to play enemy to the blonde back at school. They just clicked so well. Opposite in so many ways, but it seemed to work. Or at least this was what Ron had hoped to impress upon the blonde. He still had a lingering feeling of it all being utterly foolish but he'd pushed it aside. There had to be something there.
Letting these thoughts captivate him for a moment, he let the entrance of the person in question. It wasn't until Harry had more or less jumped up and down in his face that he realized that they were back and early. He stood uneasily to meet the pair of them. Giving Harry a broad hug. Just before he could say anything to Draco, Harry told him that there was something he had to tell him.
Ron stepped back a bit, giving him room while Harry shifted a little uneasily looking for the words. Draco just refused to meet his gaze period.
"I wanted to tell you first because you're my best friend and I didn't want you to find out after the fact. But some things changed in France and Draco and I are together. I hope you can try and understand. I know the two of you aren't exactly best mates," Harry eased into Ron slowly, clueless to anything that may have almost been said by the redhead.
Ron kept as still as possible, not letting any emotion show as he studied Harry a long moment. He was deciding whether to punch him or just give him a nod of approval. It was his best friend. And from the way Harry spoke, it was obvious he knew little to nothing about the time spent out looking for Lucius and then even the occurrences back at the Burrow before the end. As much as it was hurting now, he couldn't very well say anything too much. He avoided making eye contact with Draco as though it he would burst into flames. It didn't seem like such a bad idea either.
"You and Malfoy? It's not what I would've ever suspected," Ron managed, his voice coming out surprisingly strong for the large lump that was caught in his throat.
"Me neither but things changed in France. Hell, things changed after the war," Harry told him to which Ron just nodded. How the conversation went after that he wasn't sure. Ron could only think of keeping his cool long enough to get away and far away.
Something Harry said struck a chord with him though. "Things changed after the war." This much was true but he hadn't ever prepared himself for this sort of change. He was just glad he'd bit his tongue thus far and that Harry hadn't wasted any time. The thing that left him feeling angry was that he'd waited too long to admit to his own feelings. And then it was too late.
/…/
Harry buried his hands deep in the pockets of his pants as he watched Draco pack the last of his things from what was once their bedroom. Words just seemed to escape him at that moment. Partly because he knew after what had happened between then, it couldn't change anything. Some strong scotch and infidelity had sealed their fate.
It just all suddenly seemed so surreal. As though he'd stepped from his body and was now just a spectator watching the events unfold. Silently willing himself to say something to make Draco stay. To make any sort of effort he could manage. But nothing came. And soon, with a sigh and a lost glance in his direction, Draco walked out of the bedroom and Harry's life.
He just sat silently in his bedroom for what seemed like hours. Mind buzzing with memories past in that very room. Most of which brought a smile to his face, unlike the more recent ones. Things had been so great between them for so long. Harry couldn't understand what had happened to change that. Why he'd gone out and done the things he had and even more the things Draco had done.
It was just like pouring salt in his wounds. It hurt that he was losing such an important part of his life, but inwardly it hurt that much more knowing that Ron had played a hand in it. He could still bitterly recall every inch of that morning. From the damp air to Ron who answered the door, picture of perfect unease. He had never expected to find Draco at Ron's. It was basically a last resort. Now, he could only just wish he'd gone home and just waited. Things might have been easier.
Harry had sat up until all hours of the night waiting for Draco to get home. It certainly wasn't like him to just never show up. Especially in the name of work. Draco was nothing short of lazy. This much was obvious. So when the morning finally came and there had been no word at all, Harry had finally gotten up and headed down to the Prophet.
He was surprised to find that Draco had left much earlier the night before. He ran a list over in his mind and began the long process of investigating each possible lead in locating the blonde. Harry felt oddly like a mother who had lost her child in a supermarket and frantically traveled the store, searching each aisle and shelf. Of course Harry's supermarket was London and that left the possibilities endless.
Once all of the possibilities had been exhausted, Harry reached out for one last resort. If nothing else, his best friend could offer some help in what seemed like a wild goose hunt. With this in mind, Harry felt no unease as he jogged up the stairs to Ron's flat, knocking quickly against the door. He knew it was early and that he'd probably have to stir the redhead from slumber.
Inside the house however was not a scene Harry would expect. Ron and Draco had more or less passed out the night before, limbs entwined with little distinction between the two. The sole difference being the intricate patterns of freckles that laced carelessly about Ron's skin.
At the knock, Draco shuddered lightly; eyes fluttering open a moment giving his mind a chance to catch up. It certainly wasn't home. Nor anyplace he could quite identify. And what made things much more interesting was that he was curled up amongst another who wasn't Harry. And then, as the knocking grew louder and the form beside him adjusted in his sleep, everything fell into place.
"Bloody hell…" Draco muttered in shock, eyes growing wide with panic. As if on cue, a pounding headache split his head as the knocking continued. Weasley to his credit seemed to be doing a fine job of ignoring it. Which was not helping things. "Weasley. Get up. Get up now!" Draco whispered exasperated, shaking the redhead a bit violently.
"Cut it out. I'm trying to sleep," Ron muttered, eyes not daring to open. He instead rolled over slightly, body falling atop one of Draco's arms and fell back into his slumber.
Draco didn't give up so easily. "Weasley! Seriously! Someone is here. You have to get up," He was almost pleading as he shook the other man frantically.
Ron flinched at the tone Draco had taken and finally opened his eyes, adjusting quickly to the light, letting the words being hurled at him fill his head. When it all did, he froze instantly. Not because he was too worried about the person at the door but because he was in a rather compromising situation with Draco Malfoy.
"Oh Bloody Hell!" Ron shot up quickly, hand meeting his forehead, pushing hair back out of pure stress. "Malfoy what the hell happened last night?" It was a stupid question for he really didn't need two guesses. A whole hell of a lot, that was for sure.
"We don't have time for this. Someone is at your door."
It was then that Harry had taken to yelling. The pair of them froze like deer caught in the headlights as their voice recognition kicked in. Draco's hands pulled anxiously at his hair and his eyes scattered about the room.
"What are we going to do? He'll murder us. He'll curse every bit of life out of us!"
"We don't have time for the dramatics, Malfoy. Grab your things and head up the stairs to the bedroom. I'll make something up," Ron ordered, grabbing his pants from the night before and covering himself. For the first time giving thought to the fact that he had been just sitting naked in his living room with Malfoy of all people.
"That's not really reassuring, Weasley! You are not known for your subtle ways!" Draco exclaimed but set about getting his things anyway. Ron shooed him up the stairs as he began buttoning his jeans up, preparing to answer the door.
Ron took several deep breaths, giving a look behind him to make sure that the blonde was no where in sight. Willing himself to stay calm, he opened the door to reveal a very frantic looking Harry Potter.
"Ron! Thank Merlin you're here. I can't find Draco anywhere. He didn't come home last night and he's not at the Prophet or with any of his friends. It's as though he's just vanished," Harry explained all at once, not waiting to be invited in.
Ron started at him uneasily, carefully checking over his words. Harry just gave the place a once over and glared back at Ron.
"You've got someone here don't you?" Harry asked suddenly and Ron could just feel the color draining from his face.
"What? Why would you say that?" He asked, probably too quickly.
"Well no offense but you slightly reek of alcohol and sex. And there are two glasses here on the floor," Harry observed which caused the redhead's nerves to settle slightly, his stomach falling back into place. "Are you alright? You seem a bit jumpy?"
"Just surprised to see you this morning is all. It's not exactly the best time."
"Yeah, I'm sorry for barging in like this. I'm just going out of my mind crazy. It isn't like him to just disappear," Harry pushed further.
"I'm sure he'll turn up. Maybe he just got sidetracked and stayed with someone from work. Or maybe he's at home right now. You should go there right now and check. He's probably sitting there waiting for you right now," The hurry in Ron's voice was so obvious that even Harry couldn't miss it. Well that or the robes that were strung over the arm of Ron's couch.
"Are those your robes?" Harry asked moving nearer to them. Ron beat him to it though, scooping them up.
"Uh yeah."
"They look a bit small for you."
"Well they are rather old. I haven't been the cleaners in a while and I'm running a bit on empty," Ron lied as easily as he could.
"They look just like a set of robes I got Draco last year for Christmas," Harry said, voice sounding a bit nostalgic. "But I had his monogrammed with a DM on the," Harry's voice dropped off as he lifted the neck of the robes up to examine the front where the embroidery would be. His face instantly fell, realization beginning to dawn on him.
"Harry I can explain…"
"Is Draco here, Ron?" Harry questioned him letting the robes fall back across Ron's arm.
"Harry, really. You have to listen to me for a second," Ron began to plead with his old friend. It was all swiftly falling apart.
"Just answer my question. Is he here?"
Ron gave a short nod, which was all Harry needed to send him over the very edge. He looked from Ron to the robes and finally to the stairs. He turned away from his friend and started up the flight of stairs, which would lead to the bedroom. Ron sprung into action after him, pleading with him just to go back downstairs and to calm down and to listen and anything else that he thought could help them.
Standing uneasily just inside the door to the bedroom was Draco. He'd managed to get his clothes on in the process though a bit sloppy, which was not helping things. His entire appearance was in disarray, from his hair to his pants, which weren't even buttoned up all the way. Harry stared at him blankly, all of the emotion he was feeling seeping through his green eyes. Draco's silver gray eyes sank down upon the ground, finding the carpet suddenly enthralling.
"Harry," Ron started but quickly stopped as he noticed the glare his friend shot at him. He settled back into the hallway figuring he wouldn't be of much help anymore.
"What the hell happened here last night? One minute you were working late at the Prophet and the next you're shagging my best friend? There doesn't seem to be a direct connection there for me but maybe I'm missing it."
"I'm going to allow you the pleasure of being angry with me. Hell, hate me. This was a shitty thing I did but I'm not going to let you stand here and patronize me for doing it. Especially when you've been behind my back for weeks I'm assuming," Draco launched into him instantly. It was now or never for this conversation. No need to hold anything back anymore.
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play stupid with me, Harry. I came home a few weeks ago. You'd stayed home sick. I'm sure you remember. And when I got there, you weren't quite alone."
The room fell into dead silence. Every person seemingly reliving each and every sin they'd committed in getting to that very point.
"So you thought you would just get back at me by sleeping with Ron of all people? Pull the ultimate payback?"
"It wasn't even about that. I was so angry with you and I never intended on sleeping with Weasley. I wound up here last night because he knew what was going on and I needed something of a sounding board. And then one thing led to another and…"
Harry held up a hand. "Please spare me the gory details. But the two of you hate each other. So much."
"We just drank a lot last night, Harry. Too much. I wouldn't have done this again had I been in a sound mind when it happened. You know that."
"Wait, again? This has happened before?" Harry's was growing steadily louder.
Draco shot him a shock looked at Ron's sudden slip. "It was a long time ago. Before we got together," Draco tried to soften the situation up a little by remaining as calm as possible. He found it was harder than he'd have thought.
"It was right after everything with my dad."
"Right before we got together?" Harry questioned Draco directly at which the blonde nodded in agreement. "And neither of you ever told me? If it happened before, why did it matter?"
"Things didn't go so well between us after that. There was no sense in dragging it out and involving you," Draco said simply. He could already sense that there were things Ron wanted to say in the matter and he just couldn't give him the chance.
"This is just all too much. You've spent the last year avoiding each other all together. I'd always just assumed it was the better alternative to you two arguing all the time and now this. I just don't know what to think anymore. Other than that everything has just changed in more ways than I'm ready to accept," Harry replied softly, giving a final look between the other two men. He pushed past Ron in the hallway, taking the stairs easily, letting the door slam behind him on the way out.
Draco stood there on the verge of a mental meltdown, holding his shoes a bit tightly in one arm. He swallowed hard trying to rid himself of the giant lump that had grown in his throat. He just wished he could close his eyes and this would all go away. But it was too late. What's done was done. The damage was already there.
"Look Malfoy…"
"Please don't say anything, Weasley. It's just not the time yet. I have to go," Draco said briskly, taking a few more deep breaths before slipping out of the bedroom past the redhead and out the way Harry had gone before him. This left Ron alone, standing in the hallway wondering why it all hurt so badly. He hadn't quite anticipated this. And what was worse was that he wasn't talking about with Harry.
Harry was surprised at how quickly Draco had managed to find a new place. He suspected it was because he'd been in the market before. He had managed to keep his news bundled up inside for quite a long time. Harry wasn't sure why either. He would've figured the blonde wouldn't have wasted any time breaking Harry down limb by limb.
He sat down upon the edge of the bed and released a sigh. It seemed so empty in the room. So devoid of everything. It seemed to do a rather good representation of Harry himself. Racked apart and almost destroyed. And for the first time, he did have to take in some of the blame.
/…/
Ron started up the stairs, stopping midway and turning back around, then deciding against it and heading back up the stairs. It was becoming such a hard decision to make. So much so that he wondered why he'd shown up in the first place. He couldn't think of a single reason that his presence would be welcomed that evening but something inside him didn't seem to find that important.
Finally giving in, he made it to the top of the stairs of the building, stopping just short of a door he'd stood before only a week before. He knocked lightly on the door, fidgeting with the carry out bowl he held in his hands. He felt so incredibly stupid. And even more like he was betraying some of the most important people in his life. Yet, he didn't turn away. Part of him felt like this was a second chance.
After a few brief but painstaking moments, the door opened and a rather bewildered blonde started him down.
"What are you doing here Weasley?" He drawled out, leaning a little against the doorframe itself.
"I thought maybe that you could use some company…" Even though Ron had pondered the answer before showing up, it didn't make it sound any less foolish. If he'd needed company, he'd have called a friend over. Not someone whom he'd just shagged a few nights before which had more or less been the end of whatever his relationship with Harry had been.
"How did you know where to go?" Draco questioned him, still mulling over the response he'd gotten as it was packaged with some sort of dinner that smelled amazing.
"I remembered this place and I told you that I thought it would suit you so I just started here. Otherwise I'd have been utterly clueless and I would've felt horribly stupid," He added, under his breath, more so than now.
"And you brought with you…?"
"Oh, I remembered you saying once that you liked Thai food and I saw a place on the way over so I stopped and figured you might be or hungry or you could save it for later or not," Ron fumbled through his sentences with little to no grace. If he hadn't been Draco Malfoy, he might have found it endearing. Even more so as it had been probably two years before that he'd actually made the off hand comment that he enjoyed Thai food. Ron had promptly told him he couldn't eat anything he couldn't pronounce. Draco tried not to find it odd that he remembered the conversation almost in its entirety.
"Oh come in before my neighbors think I have a habit of passing the time with people who can barely get out a coherent sentence," Draco fully opened the door this time, allowing the redhead entrance, something in the back of his mind nagging him. Causing him to wonder if he was making the right decision.
Ron shot him a look but came in anyway, giving himself a moment to take in the room. What had once been bland and sparse was anything but now. There was plush, leather furniture, and classical reproductions of paintings hung strategically upon the walls. It was just the kind of place that screamed well-to-do right in your face with a snicker. But it in every way seemed to fit Draco's sense of self. Even if it had been years since he'd had the lifestyle he grew up with.
Draco took the container from Ron, intending on waiting a bit before diving in. It wouldn't be polite to eat in front of your guests especially since it was the most notorious Weasley stomach in his living room. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"What do you have?"
"Water, Milk, and a bottle of wine that Pansy left as a house warming present," Draco informed him, staring into the rather scary and empty refrigerator. He'd not been the one to do most of the cooking when he'd been with Harry and the take out was a nice alternative to even pretending he knew what he was doing.
"I'm alright," Ron started but it didn't seem to matter as Draco had popped open the new bottle of wine and had begun pouring two nice sized glasses.
"This will be done in moderation but I should get some sort of celebration in this place. My first time on my own," Draco muttered, somewhat bitterly almost. He'd always struck Ron as the kind of person who would enjoy the quiet and the time alone without having someone breathing down your neck constantly.
Ron stared at the glass skeptically but took it any way, propping himself up on a barstool at the ledge, which looked into the kitchen. The kitchen wasn't anything too grand but he just couldn't imagine the blonde in there doing any cooking anyway.
Draco sipped his glass slowly, seem to space out for a moment. He set his glass down abruptly and then turned on his guest. "Ok, Weasley. You've been here long enough for me to ask why you're really here? I've done the kind host bit," He came out with it all at once which left Ron a bit surprised.
"I knew that you were probably sitting here by yourself and that it probably wouldn't be an easy thing."
"So you thought you'd come and cheer me up? I can't see the thought process there," Draco said bluntly. His gray eyes bearing heavily upon the redhead.
"I wanted a chance to talk to you about what happened that night," Ron said quietly and after moments of prolonged silence that were like agony.
"We got plastered. We shagged. We were then caught by my live in boyfriend. And now we're here making awkward conversation about it. What else is there to say?"
"That's just it though?"
"Things didn't work out the first time, why should this be any different?"
"Things didn't work out the first time because Harry came into the picture. I guess the same is true of this time as well," Ron eased out, albeit a little bitter.
"We can't keep doing this. That was a long time ago. You and I were thrust together in the middle of war. Things were much more complicated."
"You're right. They were certainly very complicated but this is a completely different time. And after all of that time, we find ourselves in the same place all over again. Things can change," Ron pushed harder, his glass of wine forgotten in front of him.
"But I haven't and you haven't and neither has the circumstance. We're still the same as we've always been and one night isn't going to change that, Weasley. You can wipe whatever grand delusions you had from your mind. It was just sex. That's all it was."
If Draco hadn't been so positive that he was correct in the whole thing, he might have been affected by the way Ron's face fell slightly at the comments he made. It was almost as if he was expecting something else. But what else was there for the two of them. Sure, they had a bit of a checkered past when it came to these kinds of things. But what happened then had long been swept under the rug. Or so Draco had thought. He couldn't deny that that night brought back so much. So many memories. But things were still the same.
But they weren't. Draco had managed to break the mold Lucius had so easily slipped him into. Shattering his father's dreams of his only son becoming everything he'd planned him to be. Draco had defied nearly everyone he'd ever cared for and all he'd been left with was ridicule and too few friends for his own tastes. When he'd left for France with Harry, he'd never really considered the repercussions he would face with Ron. The two of them avoided the topic of the time they shared like the plague.
And Weasley. He'd lost a great many people, which softened him up considerably. His temper was harder to flair and he was just different. But grief and loss will do that to people. Ron had learned to laugh things off with a bit more ease. He'd managed to come to grips with himself in terms of being someone other than Harry's best friend. He'd carved out his own identity after too many years of wandering without one. Draco could distinctly remember those days when he'd finally began to see Ron as something more than a sidekick to the Boy Who Lived. And though he never actually admitted anything, there was some form of respect shared because of it. They each had defied what they were supposed to be to become the rather screwed up people they were now. Draco had to agree that it was worth it.
All of this added together still didn't make the equation work any better. And frankly, thinking all of these thoughts put Draco slightly off. He wasn't supposed to ever consider Ron in such a way. It wasn't right. He'd just left Harry. Harry, who was Ron's best friend since their first year of school. There was just too much there. Too much. And their history alone seemed to complicate things further. Draco found himself wishing he could push it from his mind more and more.
"Malfoy? Hello?" Ron's voice called him back to consciousness following his small episode of spacing out. Draco shifted his gaze to the redhead who still wore a slightly defeated expression. "I'm going to go. Enjoy the food, Malfoy. And nice article yesterday," Ron told him before leaving straight in the direction he'd come.
/…/
Draco studied the kitchen table very closely. Well, not so much the table itself as the only person up at three in the morning to be sitting at the table. The blonde had gone down to simply get himself a glass of water. He hadn't expected to see the redhead, sitting in such deep thought for the late hour.
It was then that his mind had started playing options over. He knew full well that stepping into that kitchen would get him something more than a glass of what. It would straight drag him into a conversation he didn't want to have. Though more to the point, that he couldn't have.
There was so much that he was struggling with and it just hardly seemed the time to lay it all out there. He couldn't help but wonder of the consequences. Or rather what led up to these consequences.
As Draco lingered just in the doorway, Ron finally gave a glance in his direction making his escape impossible. Draco anxiously bit his lip and entered the rest of the way into the kitchen. He instantly began about getting a glass of water, avoiding the eyes that were burning a whole into the back of his head.
"You're just going to let all of this go, aren't you?" Ron finally asked as Draco stood sipping his glass lightly, back to him, over the sink.
"What do you mean?"
"About everything that happened. You're just going to pretend it didn't and move on," Despite what Draco would've originally thought, it wasn't filled with anger or malice but simply defeat and honesty.
"I think that I have to."
"And it won't matter if I say that I don't think so?"
"It can't," Draco told him simply, finally turning around to meet him face to face.
"Is it because of…"
"I cannot have this conversation right now. I really can't. There are other people involved now."
Ron gave a slight nod. Of course he knew other people were involved. Especially as other people meant his best friend. It was like such a slap in the face. Though he was just as mad at himself. He could've told Harry. He hadn't had to keep it such a secret. He'd just never assumed that the two of them would go off and find something more than renegade Death Eaters.
"Good night," Draco finally said after a prolonged silence. He left the glass still sitting atop the counter and more or less fled. The room had just gotten so small and so full.
Ron spent a bit more time at that table that evening. Letting everything really wash over him. He was angry for so many reasons, some rational and others not so much. He was mad at Harry for making things so much more difficult. He was mad at Draco for knowingly getting involved with Harry. And he blamed himself most of all. First for developing some sort of feelings for the blonde and then for not owning up to them before. Life could be so cruel.
Ron had wondered that evening when he would ever really get the chance to have that conversation with Draco. For if not that night then it certainly couldn't be the next or the next until in a vicious cycle, it was cast aside. It bothered him immensely but it wasn't as though there was anything else he could've done.
/…/
Draco cursed and muttered to himself all the way of the short flight of stairs and even more so as he didn't hesitate in knocking against the too familiar door. It seemed like such a longer time before that he had stood there, waiting much like he was then. Though waiting on very different things. Then it had just been an impulse thing. The need to talk things out. This time, well he found it much more difficult.
Ron answered the door, face flushing instantly at the sight of the blonde on his doorstep. He looked a little bewildered and so many kinds of uncertain. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" He questioned quietly.
"I really need to talk with you," Draco explained simply. It was a conversation that was long passed due. About two years in fact.
"It's just not exactly a good…"
"Who's at the door, Ron?" It was then that Draco put realization that there was someone else in the house. As the other form appeared, he found himself even more nervous than before.
"Hermione. Oh. I will just go then," Draco started, cursing himself for his stupid impulses and following them.
"Wait! I was just going. Things to do. Wedding to plan. You know," She started quickly. Not giving concern to the dinner that was still cooking upon the stovetop or her promise of an evening with one of her oldest friends.
"Oh. I mean I can come back."
"No need, I'll just grab my bag and be on my way. Good to see you in high spirits though. I was beginning to worry slightly," Hermione explained before vanishing. This left the two of them staring awkwardly at the other, full in anticipation of what would follow. "Ok Ron, you write me soon. We need to get together again," She gave him a prompt hug and then a warm look in Draco's direction and was gone through the floo.
"I suppose you should come in then," Ron announced, stepping back from the doorway to let the blonde enter.
Draco took his invitation and entered the small flat again. Memories still heavy in his memory. He felt rather mad for even thinking the thoughts he was. Perhaps that was the reason he'd set them aside and focused more on what another organ was telling him, perhaps for the first time in such a long time.
"I take it Hermione really wasn't planning on leaving so soon?" Draco questioned, standing awkwardly in the living room.
"Well not really. We were planning on dinner, which is probably burnt to a crisp by this point. But I suppose that can wait," Ron informed him, feeling slightly shy given the circumstance. Well then again, he had more or less been dismissed nights before. It was only fair to be a little skeptical.
"I really don't know what to say. Other than to apologize for my behavior the other night. Things have been rather difficult lately."
"You're preaching to the choir. My best friend since my first year of school won't speak to me. My entire family cannot begin to fathom why I've betrayed Harry in such a way. It's all too unsettling. I'm not used to being the one they defend Harry against."
"And they find no fault in him at all?"
"To be quite honest, no. They find Harry to be a right angel most of the time. There's more fault in what happened between us than anything. And it's my family," Ron spoke though his heart just didn't seem to be in it. It appeared he'd been over something very similar in his own head many times before.
"Well I didn't mean to cause trouble between you and your family," Draco started slowly but Ron put up a hand to stop him.
"That's not exactly your problem so you don't have to apologize. Intoxication will do that to you."
"Yeah, I suppose," Draco commented, taking a moment to be suddenly enthralled with the pictures that hung up on the wall. A few from back at Hogwarts, many more from afterwards, most following the war.
"So are you going to bat around the issue or are we just going to get down to it because I'm frankly getting tired of having the same conversations over and over. What more is there that can be said?" Ron asked in a defeated tone. It was the perfect explanation of how he truly felt.
"No, there are other things that I need to say. The way things were when you left the other night just weren't right. It just didn't make sense that after such time had passed, there was still something there drawing us back like a moth to a flame.
"I tried rather hard to fight it all. I mean it still isn't the most convenient of arrangements and that I understand but that didn't change how I felt. I'm beginning to wonder if anything will.
"You see, I spent too much time in the past masking my emotions and putting them aside. It was easier that way. It ensured that I was never the one who got hurt but things changed. Even though I tried my damndest, I still did in the long run and it just seemed like it was all for naught. And it made me wonder, if I had been wrong about that, who was to say that wasn't the only thing and it made me think about everything you'd said to me," Draco felt like he was beginning to ramble but he paid it no mind. Ron had his entire attentions focused upon him, staring him down almost.
"It just became hard to believe if I still had these feelings in me after time and after all that had happened in the process that maybe they weren't as inane as I had thought. Maybe it was the complete opposite. I spent too much time doing the right thing and not doing what I wanted. And for the first time I have the opportunity and maybe it's just going to my head but I don't want to miss out on anything that I don't have to," Draco's voice seemed tinge with some sort of hope as his words were directed specifically at the redhead.
Ron more or less stood in shock as the words flowed from Draco's mouth. He couldn't seem to believe his own ears. Or at least he thought so. With Draco's wordy explanation, he wondered if he'd quite picked up on everything. That would be terribly embarrassing otherwise.
"So what does that mean?"
"It means that I'm here right now finally asking you to have a conversation that's long over due. A conversation two years in the making. Is that even something we can do anymore?"
"Yeah, we can and I think it's about time that we did."
/…/
A/N: OK well the story on this story was that it was supposed to be a two part piece and then it was finished. But as I wrote the second part and edited later, I realize there is a still a bit of story to tell and a wedding to be had. Complete with drunk Harry. That's a must. So this was meant to be the last part but hang in there, there will be one to follow. Also note that I've just editted this piece slightly. None of the plot changes, I just did a little fine tuning. Thanks for all of the encouragement and look for part three:-D