Draco's not sure how it started, this friendship, this thing with Ron Weasley…
Well, he knows how it actually started. It was when he began his friendship with Harry, back in 8th year when he was forced to room with him. It had gone awry at first but then through sheer power of exposure they had managed to find common ground. A few quidditch matches later, a tutoring potions lesson and the friendship cemented.
Okay, maybe that wasn't when it started, because Ron hated him still. He thought the friendship between Draco and Harry wasn't going to last and that Draco was one hundred percent up to something.
But, it carried on after Hogwarts, Harry and him meeting, having lunch together and then sometimes Draco would join the Gryffindors for drinks.
A year or so later and Draco had managed to worm his way into their friend group and it seemed Ron was getting used to him.
So, that wasn't when it actually started either.
It hadn't been when Harry had kissed him, or when they started dating.
Ron wasn't against it by then, but they were still not this close and Draco, well, he was sure he loved Harry. Course he did, the saviour, true to his name, had saved his life, had introduced him back into a friend group, had shielded him from the press, and now was offering him his heart, so Draco took it and vowed to himself to cherish it.
Except, well, it was then that it started.
Draco moved into Grimmauld almost as soon as he began dating Harry, because he had a hard time living at the manor and he knew him since he was eleven after all, so it made sense anyway. And Harry, who wasn't a bad boyfriend and it was totally not his fault, was gone a lot because being an auror was hard work. Draco was proud of him too, fighting to save the wizarding world still. It was admirable.
The thing was, it meant he spent most of his time with Ron, who was working with the twins now, and things had progressed to a complicated point.
Draco wasn't sure anymore how much he actually loved Harry, and how much was just the fact he hadn't really known Ron.
It was fucked up, he knew, but it was hard not to be more than a little bit into a guy you spent all your time with, and who was now, with Draco's feet on his lap, rubbing them rather dextrously as they watched a silly TV show about people not able to have sexual relations on an island.
Yes, things had progressed to a complicated point and his heart was not as much torn as leaning completely to another side and he felt horrible about it.
"These people have no logical reasoning. They could just all have sex with each other once the show is over. Are you really telling me they cannot wait a month?" He said, huffing, toes wiggling a little.
-
Ron paused from his ministration to give him look of disbelief.
"Oh, please don't tell me you're saying you could do that. Plunk you there and you're done. There's no way you're lasting a month, mate. That tightly clenched ass of yours is getting plowed as soon as you bend over to pick something up from the floor."
Then he grinned, as if delighted to be so gross about how Draco's that fuckable. He blamed George, of course. Working at the shop had given both Weasleys the opportunity to realize they were a worthy match at how they run their mouths to the gutter. Charlie joins in from time to time via floo, and the resulting afternoon spent wisecracking would have led to sexual relations lawsuits had Hermione gotten around to that aspect of social reforms. The number of employees of the Weasley shop who'd run red-faced away from the laboratory when Ron and George start their banter was such, they were earning a reputation.
Molly Weasley was naturally not pleased.
"When's Harry coming home? I'm hungry."
-
Draco blushed hard enough that it made his temperature rise, though he should be used to the things Ron would come up with nowadays.
He grabbed the pillow on his side and threw it at the redhead's head.
"You're so crass Ronald Weasley." He said as he started to laugh, because even if what he said had been so terrible, it was still pretty funny.
"And I'll have you know, I'd have to consent to this plowing, wouldn't I? And I don't think any of those fools are worth my time. You're the one who wouldn't last." He scoffed.
"And I don't know when he'll come home. He didn't say. Looks like another late night. We'll have to order in ourselves. You do…you know how to use the phone? The touching screen hates me." Draco pouted in the general direction he knew the mobile phone Harry had given him should be.
-
He laughed, too. Patting Draco's feet to indicate the blond should take it off his lap, Ron stood up.
Stretching a little, his attention focused on the telly, he scoffed.
"I'll make us food. Open-faced sandwich good? I think there's enough in the pantry to make some kind of salad." But he didn't move away, instead he crossed his freckled arms over his chest and motioned to the screen with a movement of his head.
"Not even that guy?" On the screen, a smooth-faced Latino was showing off his body by practically stripping naked before going into a hot tub. Ron glanced at Draco, eyebrow raised in question.
-
Draco answered agreeably to the sandwich before looking towards the Tv screen and watching the very ripped Latino enter the hot tub. Objectively, the guy was really hot, but he wasn't Draco's
type.
Especially true when Ron was standing there, his freckled arms in plain view.
It was a recent thing, the freckles, but the fact he was really into them had hit him hard.
He had been pleasantly surprised as well as guilty, when he had found a cluster of them on Harry's back and now liked to trace them with his fingers.
"No. He's not my type at all. Just because you fuck everything with legs doesn't mean I do." Draco said with a smirk, but the truth of his sentence wasn't exactly something he liked. Ron was just….very free with his love, recently.
-
"We cant all be lucky to find our true love at school, Draco."
The subject seemed to close him off after saying that, and Ron finally started to move to the kitchen. The soft-footfalls of his feet on the inlaid floor were muffled occasionally by the runners dotting the place.
-
The words formed a knot in Draco's throat.
True love.
He had thought it was, when things were starting and he confused how grateful he was for love, but now?
He knew it wasn't true love, what he felt for Harry. He was pretty sure he still loved him, but it wasn't as romantic as he had hoped it would be. Not that he wasn't going to try to turn it into that. Draco had been trying for a while, to think of Harry as the man he wanted to spend his life with, but every time he closed his eyes to try and imagine it, all he saw was freckles and red hair.
There was no chance of it though, none whatsoever and Draco knew that so he just kept trying it with Harry.
Ron wouldn't ever accept him if he told him any of what he was feeling, because he would think it was a betrayal towards his best friend. It didn't really matter how close they had become or how Ron sometimes hinted that he found him attractive. It was all make-belief.
It hurt, but it was a necessary evil if he wanted to be close to the redhead and not hurt Harry.
-
In the kitchen Ron thought of Hermione.
As far as break-ups go, theirs had been bittersweet, but hopeful. One moment, he had been laughing at something she'd said and he doesn't recall what it was but he remembers the watery smile she had flashed him before turning away to look at the window and maybe that was when she decided. Maybe it was then. She said something about being worried she loved him too much, how he'd expect too much, how she wasn't ready to settle down yet. Ron had listened, brows furrowed, and asked for an explanation.
"I don't trust myself with you. You--," she laughed, but it was all choked, a sob trapped in her
throat, her eyes already tearing. "--you make me do things I don't think I'd do. I don't think very well when it's you. Ron, I want to do things to help everyone now that the war is over. I can't do that when I worry I'm letting you down. Ron... will you wait for me?"
And he kissed her. Her eyes, her nose, her lips. Smiled at her, thought her silly -- his silly Hermione -- but also was very charmed. He told her yes. After all, she's Hermione Granger. She's worth the wait. Always had been.
Until suddenly she wasn't.
Ron then thought about the young man who was waiting for their dinner and sighed.
They were still friends, of course. Hermione was focused on Ministry work, but they find the time to hang out when she's less busy. Ron has begun to beg off these engagements though, explaining how George had the worst timing.
"I have a shitty boss," he told them, his messy scrawl on the expensive stationery of the Weasley shop, delivered by George's owl. It made sense, because Harry does it, too.
It's just, he can't meet her. Not yet. She knows the signs, could read him blind.
Opening a cupboard, he swore to himself to find it less full than he thought. A lot less.
"Draco," he called out, "looks like you're right. We're ordering. Or do you want to go out, since that show isn't doing shit anything for you?"
-
The blond smiled and got up from the couch, going towards the kitchen and leaning against the doorway.
"Let's go out, I haven't left the house in ages, Harry's decided to be a hermit. I'll just go change." Draco said as he pushed off the doorway and went upstairs to change into something more appropriate than the sweats he was wearing.
In the past, he'd never have been caught in such attire, but things had changed.
So much.
-
By the time Draco came down, Ron's changed, too. Some jumper Draco had chosen for him, in one of their shopping sprees. Ron had come to the blond with an armful of orange shirts, excitedly saying how it was the right shade for Chudley cheer, but Draco had looked at him venomously enough to question his life choices that day. Knowing how much his dinner companion will like Ron was wearing this outfit made him feel a little fidgety, and the boy he used to be, who worried endlessly about asking Fleur out on as his date for the Ball peeked out from the young adult he's become.
He looked up and grinned at Draco coming down the stairs. "Walk or take the car, mate?"
They'd done this so many times.
It's weird how they settled into a pattern so easily, Ron already moving forward towards Draco so he'd be at the very last steps, a foot higher from the redhead.
In this position, he'd be in perfect height to fuss about Ron's hair. Style it accordingly. A final inspection, so to speak, so he'd be deemed presentable enough. Ron humored it, and besides, knew he looked good once Draco was done with his fussing.
"You know, you shouldn't try to look too good? I can't remember the number of times I have to fend off some git after your number. I don't get paid enough to act like your bodyguard, Malfoy."
-
Ron looked so good.
Merlin, why did he have to make things so difficult? It was hard for the blond to think platonic thoughts only, when he looked this way.
Still, as usual, he waited until the redhead was near and then plunged his fingers into his soft hair, made softer by Draco's recent gift of rather expensive french conditioner.
Honestly, Ron's hair was perfectly acceptable today, but this was a tradition by now and Draco wasn't going to lose the chance to touch him anyway.
"There we go, perfect now." He said when he was done and descended the last step before rolling his eyes and slapping the redhead on the arm. "I'm going to ignore the fact you think I can't defend myself against creeps and just focus on the fact you think I look good. Thank you Ronald." He said as he walked towards the door and picked up his coat from the coat rack near the door.
Draco felt a twinge of guilt when his fingers touched Harry's favorite jacket, but it didn't stop him from putting on his own and opening the door. "Lets walk, last time we took that death trap of yours I thought it was my last day on earth."
-
Behind him, Ron scowled. He was sensitive about his driving.
It's good though. The annoyance overrode the pleasure of Draco's fingers combing his hair.
"You can't use magic, you lunatic. Just because your boyfriend's an Auror--," Yes, Ron thought. Harry, Draco's boyfriend. Harry, Ron's best mate. "--doesn't mean you get to flaunt the rules."
"I can punch someone. I'm not that weak you know." Draco said, pretending to be hurt by the assumption, but actually smiling a little to himself. He hadn't actually used the clout of being Harry's boyfriend yet, hadn't had the chance, apart from the obvious respite he had in the newspapers.
They didn't really print how evil he was anymore, though they had at first, implying he was imperiousing the savior. They stopped quickly though when it became obvious Harry wasn't being coerced into anything. And everyone else? The people? Well they had stopped bothering him whenever he was with one of the Trio though they obviously still shot him some suspicious glances.
Catching up with him, hands in his pockets, for a while, Ron was content to just walk. But there's more distance between them, summoned by the power of Harry's name.
It's chilly, the weather slowly turning for winter. People glanced their way, but Ron's used to that. It's common enough occurrence. Par for the course.
-
Eventually, Ron started speaking again. "You know, Harry said he might have a bit more time soon, so you won't be lonely much longer. I figure I'll give you two some space when he does stay more and visit Charlie. That git's been insisting I need to meet his mates in that dragon sanctuary. What would you like me to bring back?" Draco was surprised and he stopped walking for a second, not sure how to feel about this. If he was reasonable he'd understand what a good opportunity it would be if Ron left for a while. Draco could try and forget him, focus on Harry.
But being reasonable had never been something he was good at.
"You can't go." Was what he said, though he had no possible explanation for not wanting him to go. "You could get hurt… dragons are dangerous." Draco continued. "Besides, who's going to take me shopping? You and I both know Harry's not going to do it. No, I'm sorry but you can't go." Draco finished with a vehement nod of the head.
-
Ron raised a dubious eyebrow. "Did all your past friends die?" he asked him. He considered Draco for a moment, before turning back to staring at the street ahead.
"Sorry," he said looking anything but. "But you'll just need to make do with Zabini or Parkinson for a bit. Or Harry. Harry will do it if you pout enough. " He held his hand up to forestall Draco's response. "Look, that guy loves you. You know he'll do it. He'd look miserable, but he'd do it." He grinned to himself when he finished explaining the plan.
Draco was clearly going to miss him.
It made him happy.
-
"No, just some of them." Draco murmured, but it was so low that he was sure Ron didn't hear it.
He sighed loudly and started to walk again, though he was still very much bothered by the fact that Ron seemed really set on leaving. But, Draco had time to change his mind, for sure he could do it.
Draco shook his head at Ron's raised hand and slapped it as he walked past. "I don't want to shop with someone who's looking miserable, it's not fun." and he did pout.
"Why are you really going? You never cared about dragons, and you can't possibly just go because you think Harry and I need space. We're fine, everything's fine, we don't need space, Grimmauld is huge." Draco argued.
-
Shoulders hunched, Ron thought carefully how to word his reply. He thought he's been clever so far, but he's slipping. The other day, George had slapped him on the back, and told him Harry's like a brother, but Ron was a brother and no matter what happened, George was backing him. Ron had wracked his brain for the reason why George would say something so cryptic and remembered just minutes ago about ranting about Draco making him late, because he had to cook them both breakfast. He had been in the process of taking off his coat, hoping the excuse would get George out of his case for being late yet again, and instead George did that. George said that.
People were starting to notice.
People who mattered.
It's only a matter of time when the two people he lived with caught on in his secret.
He supposed it was time to bring more one-night-stands in the place.
Trying to lighten the mood, sensing the pout Draco was sporting was just a hint of the tantrum that would come, he joked, "What, you can't keep me all to yourself, you know. We can't have you getting used to that. What if I finally found someone I like to be with, the way Harry did with you? You realize you won't just have to share, but actually let me go, right?"
He turned to look at Draco. He smirked slightly, softening a little, "I promise I'll bring you something nice when I get back."
He took Auror training for a while, and understands breathing patterns, pupil dilation, the undulation of his throat as he swallows, his pulse point fluttering, just there, and so it does not feel like a risk to say, to offer outright
"I'll miss you. You'll miss me, too, right, Draco?"
-
Ron's words hurt so fucking much.
Of course Draco knew that it was just a matter of time until one of the redhead's one-night stands turned into an actual relationship. There was no way that one of the girls or boys wouldn't want to try and eventually one of them would be right.
Draco isn't under the impression that he's the only one for Ron and that he's going to be alone forever while the blond prances around with Harry.
That would make no sense at all, because Ron can't just focus on his friends, no matter how good they are.
It would be selfish of Draco to expect such a thing and so he doesn't.
But he wishes it.
He looked away from the other man, slipping his cold hands into his pockets and didn't throw the tantrum he usually would. They are out in public after all, and he's very conscious of making a scene. Draco just shrugged.
"I know I have to let you go. I don't want you to be lonely." He said and it was like someone was pulling those words from him with irons, each one ripping out a piece of his throat with it. They weren't lies, not really, he didn't want Ron to be lonely he just… wanted something else too. "And of course. I'll miss you, Ron."
He kept his eyes away from the redhead as he walked a little further ahead now, hunched a little because the air was so cold it was biting.
"Lets get a move on I'm freezing my arse off and I don't want to talk about this anymore."
-
Left behind, Ron watched him walking further away, and felt a little sad he hadn't gone full bitch. It's been a while. The idea Draco would do that for him was a warming thought, though he had no
right for it. Still, he can't help the pleased snort that escaped; Draco was growing up. He's learning the whole world didn't revolve around him.
Taking the steps necessary to catch up with him, he thought how their relationship so far has been a series of escalating dares. Some came from him, some maybe came from Draco. Others were Harry's and some were even Hermione's. Dare to trust. Dare to befriend. Dare to believe. Dare to let Draco cook breakfast. Dare to take Draco outside and pray he won't hex a poor muggle for calling him some funky thing.
When Harry first introduced the idea of Ron and Draco as friends, Draco had seemed to Ron a bit diminished, a bit lost. After all, the rest of the wizarding world was vilifying his existence, so he supposed that made sense for Draco to be that way. Ron thought he like Draco best like that, all used up and spat out. Criticizing depraved morals after already winning was supposed to be fun. But he missed Draco pre-corrupted. Kind, hesitating Draco was awfully convenient, but he missed the skirmishes. Missed that something unpredictable to him; how he'll have to push before Draco bends.
So Ron set a pattern of old with the other boy, while Hermione and Harry gave Draco new set of norms.
It's good, he thought. His friends' way seemed to work.
If I leave, will you miss me?
They're at a restaurant, very late, the kind of private place Draco likes him to be seen at, a place with a cultivated clientele and a discreet name on the outside. It's a Muggle place, and Ron was sure there was no one who paid too much unnecessary attention to them except maybe to note their age. But Draco's mannerism has long earned them entrance in the place, and their combined cards get them the fawning of the people working there. It's one of the few indulgences Ron has. He had thought access to money would mean he'd be a little crazy buying this and that, but save for some pricey Chudley merc, Ron tended to live simply. It's easy: Harry's insanely generous.
"George is thinking of expanding. A different country. It's bonkers, in'nit? Who'd have thunk of me as a businessman."
Ron wanted to pretend this was small talk. But his eyes would look up every now and then to watch the expression on Draco's face at his words. A wound he refused to close; he wanted Draco to be sad at the idea, not happy for him.
"Have you thought about what you're going to do?"
He has no right to it.
But he still wants it.
He consoled himself he wasn't being entirely selfish. Pushing for Draco to think of his future was a 'mates' sort of thing to do. It would give him something to occupy his time when Harry was doing auror stuff. He's being a friend, he assured himself.
He took a bite of his beef wellington.
-
Draco pushed around the food on his plate with his fork, one hand propping up his chin, a little lost in thought. Truthfully, it was more pining already than deep thinking as he was imagining how it would be with Ron gone. He didn't want to be mean and say harry couldn't keep him company, because of course he could. They were dating for a reason, it wasn't like Draco thought Harry was some useless person or devoid of interest. Far from it.
It was just that Harry didn't treat him the same way that Ron did. Harry didn't take him out most of the time, preferring to stay in and avoid crowds and the press.
Harry sometimes treated him like someone to save still.
And Ron? Well, he treated Draco like…well like Draco Malfoy.
Finally, his attention was brought back to the redhead. "I think that people don't give you enough credit. You have a strategic mind. You need that for business." Draco started and then sighed, pushing his food around a bit more.
"That's a hard question." He answered, looking out of the window. "I wanted to do something ministry related at first, or something that would put me on the map. Events, maybe, but for that I need a lot more clout than I have and unfortunately Harry isn't going to help me with it." Draco stopped his fussing with the food and looked at Ron apologetically.
"Not that he has to, mind you, but sometimes I do wish he did. We could do a lot with the power he has."
Harry had been clear about not wanting to go to ministry functions or do interviews or participate in much of wizarding society, because he just wanted to be an auror now and not used his fame to gain anything else. It was frustrating for Draco, when he had such ambition, but he knew that if he was to be with Harry he had to accept it.
It was just another thing that made him have doubts.
"So…I think I'm either going to start investing in businesses or maybe even get my potions mastery." He frowned. "But that means getting someone to take me on as an apprentice and I'm not sure who would…and to add to it, the best ones are in France now and Germany." Draco chuckled a little darkly.
"Harry just keeps saying there's no reason why an english potions master won't take me on, that I've been acquitted and therefore it's illegal to discriminate against me…but you and I both know people find ways to do it, and the thing is they're not wrong either. They don't know me. Sometimes he forgets…that just because he knows something to be true doesn't mean everyone else does." Draco shrugged again and wasn't sure how to explain what he was trying to say, but he knew that if he was wrong Ron would say so, without mincing words.
-
When Ron left the Auror Department, everyone had been confused, disappointed and let down. His mother and Harry had been the biggest offenders, Hermione next and Bill. Everyone, even Hagrid, tried to convince him to rethink his choice. Everyone but George.
Without Fred, George's not quite the same brother Ron remembered, and he would go to muggle Hell for thinking this, but sometimes Ron thought he liked George a bit better alone than when he was one half of a whole. George accepted his request to work for him, the two of them at first walking on eggshell, both shocked at the realization they didn't really know each other that well.
"Like with Percy, don't you think, Ronnie?"
It's George who said, one drunken night at a muggle bar, how he'd been shocked and proud Ron stopped basing his life around Harry. Ron tried not to let it sting.
But he thrived, and he and George were thick as thieves now. He will never be able to replace Fred, and that was okay, because George wasn't looking for a replacement. And George will never be Harry, the way Harry had been to most of Ron's life, and George was fine with that. They were brothers; that's all that they needed to be.
He learned a lot from him.
-- George pointed out, charity wasn't a bad thing to get.
-- Connections must always be exploited to get a leg up in the world.
-- And the war was over; Ron was allowed to live a life without giving everything up for Harry's joy and comfort.
In all things, George had been right, except for one.
"Draco," Ron said, daintily wiping the corner of his mouth with his napkin, then back to cutting his
food in respectable bite-sized pieces.
"Harry can't help you with the Ministry. That's too much a reach even for him. Hermione's a better hand. I think, just start small. Not the Ministry, but someplace related. And if it's potion master you want, go to the school. Slughorn will take you. Be a teacher there. You don't need Harry for that. McGonagall will be fair. She'll take you in, I know she will. Merlin, go to Beauxbatons."
He almost added, you shouldn't always think about what Harry thinks.
Because it was mean. It was disloyal. It's true, but it's not a thought you have against the hero of the wizarding world. Certainly not from Harry's best friend.
-
Draco listened to Ron but he also watched him eat his food and wipe his mouth with more than just a little curiosity. He hadn't really paid attention until then, but now that he did, the blond couldn't help wonder why and how the redhead was eating in such a refined sort of manner. Knowing him, it was probably a new flame, some girl teaching him manners, and immediately Draco felt like sulking, even though he had no right to.
Still, if Ron wanted to learn table manners he should have come to him.
"Of course he could help me. His name alone would open many doors, but I'm not going to insist on it, if he doesn't want to, and obviously you don't think I should either." Draco sighed a little before continuing "And I don't really want to be a teacher. I doubt any of the parents would be happy to have a former Death Eater teach their children, even if I think you're right and McGonnagal might hire me." Draco chewed on his bottom lip a little "I'd really have to go to France or Germany, but Harry says it's already hard for us to be together as is, with his job and me unemployed, if I move we won't survive, he thinks."
Draco felt immediately guilty then, as he said that last thing, because he thought that wouldn't be so bad. It would be a way to let things fizzle out wouldn't it, without hurting anyone too much, because the crux of the matter was, breaking up with Harry wasn't a possibility. He'd lose all of his new friends, all the good things he had accomplished. He'd be the guy that broke Harry Potter's heart and the prophet would crucify him again when they found out.
Not even mentioning the most important part, because even if everyone still accepted him and the press left him alone, there was still one simple fact above all: He owed Harry.
-
Ron was quick on the defense.
"When did I say you can't join the Ministry? I said start small. Maybe not at the Ministry exactly, but something related to it. " Was he wrong? But he thought in this one instance, Draco advancing on his own merit would be a better thing. Harry can open doors, yes, but doing so invites new enemies. He's protective of Draco, but he won't deny him his new skirmishes if he thought it would be better for the blond. But the Ministry folks who were opposed to Harry weren't to be trifled with either. Ron knew they were there. They'd make mince meat of Draco's existence to get to Harry.
"That's why I said you go to Hermione. She'll know better how to get you the right foothold, you prat. Don't take the easy way in for that one, alright?" He drank his wine.
And by that, he drank his motherfucking wine.
Ron wasn't even aware he was doing it. First he swirled the wine goblet close to his nose, to appreciate the scent coming to head, and then a slow sip at first, before a more languid drink. "Excellent," he murmured. He chose his drink well.
Of Draco's assertion he didn't want to teach in school, Ron didn't bother to answer much. He'd only suggested it because he thought it a viable option; as Slughorn's apprentice, Draco would be potion master real quick, because the man's old and he'd be quick to give Draco the position. Especially if such a huge promotion would mean Harry's boyfriend would feel he is owed something.
No, Draco didn't want that route so he let it be.
"It's fine. I'm fine anyway, I just need to find something I can do here, and I can always try Hermione like you say." Draco shrugged. But the easy way was so….easy. Draco thought though he didn't actually say anything. It wasn't even like he thought he needed the help once he was in the door, he could take it by storm after, he had the skills and the funds to do so, but first he needed to be accepted, he needed a foot in the door.
Draco just wasn't so sure Hermione was the one to do it, not everyone was a fan of hers after all, with her radical reform ideas.
Putting the drink down, Ron pierced Draco with his blue gaze.
"You know it's alright to leave Harry, right? Sod what he thinks, you need to plan for your future. You can't just prance around Grimmauld like some sexy twink ready to bend down and get fucked- -,"
There's a slight coughing from the side and Ron glanced up to see their smiling waiter trying to hide his laughter. Ron grinned, the devil on his shoulder thinking to have some fun. "I'm not joking. I swear, the moment I come home, I have to pause from anything else and tell him while he's all sprawled on the sofa with practically nothing on, 'Wrong man, luv. Not that I don't think this would be a wonderful afternoon delight...'"
He and the waiter nodded knowingly, and Ron quickly reached out a hand for his companion to hold, to Draco to let him in on the joke.
-
Draco couldn't help the smirk growing on his lips or the smug look he gave both men in front of him. Draco knew he was very hot, knew the looks he got from men and women, knew exactly what they meant.
And this teasing Ron was doing? It had become normal over the months of their friendship. Ron was always a little crass, a little too direct in what he said, but it was more than a little amusing and it stroked his ego. Draco knew he meant nothing by what he said, that he'd never try something on with Harry's boyfriend but…merlin it felt good to hear those words coming from him.
"I don't know what he's talking about." Draco said to the waiter. "I just sit there as normal as I do here, I can't help how irresistible I am." He added and winked at the man who chuckled and left after refilling their drinks.
Draco squeezed Ron's hand back with his own, satisfied smile on his face.
He wanted him…so bad. It was such a fucking problem, it made him such a bad person again.
"What I want to know, Ronald." He said, as soon as the waiter was out of earshot. "Is how and why
you're eating and drinking like a proper gentleman."
When Ron's large hand engulfed Draco's, he asked "You like it?"
"I like it, of course I do Ron, but how do you know what to do?" The blond asked finally, gesturing towards the wine and the cutlery. "Who's taught you?" He pouted and pretended to sniffle. "Could have asked me you know? No need to go find some floozy to teach you." The blond narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Whoever this girl was, there would be words!
-
The thought of Narcissa Malfoy being called a floozy by her own son had Ron laughing. He would say it to her, too, he thought, sending Draco a heartfelt smile.
Noone knew about it, this friendship he's managed to develop with Narcissa.
It wasn't supposed to be a secret, yet somehow, that's how it ended.
Ron's defense was that it felt good, to be the center of a motherly figure's world, if only for the duration of his visit at the manor. He's never had it, not really. He came to champion Harry, but through the years following his brass entry into the place, it stopped becoming abut Harry and more about him. He had no idea why the older woman kept him around, but he's grateful she liked spending time with him now. So grateful, she became one of his few expenses. Flowers and trinkets and all manners of things. Thoughtful things.
In many ways, she reminded him of Draco.
"Don't call her a floozy," Ron told Draco fondly. "I happen to love this one and I won't have her called names." He squeezed Draco's hand before releasing it.
Draco was going to kill him if he ever finds out, he figured. After all, Harry failed to get Narcissa's good opinion. Ron can't help but think he was cockblocking the pair; she's found her champion and she wasn't of a mind to change allegiances.
Ron... liked that.
He's such an arse.
-
Draco went stiff and pulled away too, leaning back against his chair, his grey eyes suddenly looking rather cold.
Ron loved this one.
Fuck.
It's not like Draco wasn't expecting that to happen someday, he knew there was a possibility that Ron could get tired of all the one night stands and would want someone for real at some point but…Well, he thought it would take longer, that Draco could have forgotten him by then and finally focused on the man he was supposed to be in love with.
He took a big gulp of wine, fingers grasping the glass with too much force.
"Yeah well, who is she? Maybe if I know who it is I'll be nicer." Or maybe if he knew who she was, Draco could perform some ancient voodoo magic. "So go on, who do I have to thank for your
new gentlemanly manners?"
-
Ron shook his head.
"Nope. I'm not ready to share her yet. Besides, you will be nicer to her. She's probably the only woman in this world you won't have any problems being nice to. Are you really done eating? Want to leave?"
He's trying not to read too much about Draco's shift in attitude, telling himself the man was just possessive of those he considered his. Don't read too much about it, he told himself.
-
"The only woman I'll be nice to?" Draco repeated Ron's words, frowning and trying to think about what woman this could be.
It couldn't be Pansy, thank merlin, because Draco would most likely insult the lovely cow than anything else, bless her. Couldn't be Hermione either, no way she would be teaching Ron about manners at the table, and besides they were done for sure, he knew that.
What other woman…
He gasped.
"Ronald Weasley…for the love of merlin you tell me you are not dating my mother!" Draco looked as shocked as he had ever looked all mixed in with a dash of anger. "Of all the…I will kill you!"
-
Ron choked on his wine. Shite. He knew he was giving too much away with that one.
When he got himself under control from the coughing, he started to laugh.
-
"It's not fucking funny, you absolute arsehole!" Draco was about to panic, he knew that, he was about to throw something and then they'd be banned from that restaurant. His increasingly red face and pursed lips gave it all away.
"Answer me, Weasley, or I'll hex you right now!" He said gritting his teeth. "You can't date my mother."
The people at the next table stared disapprovingly at Ron. The redhead was droll. Leaning back on his chair, wine glass in one hand, he asked, "Why the hell not? You don't think she deserves some boy toy she can order around? I don't mind it. I like them bossy."
Draco literally growled and stood up so quickly he almost made this glass tip over.
"Right…right!" He was fuming now and he really wasn't clicking that Ron was joking because what other explanation would there be for his mother to have taught him those things. Thankfully, he still had the presence of mind to remember they were at a muggle restaurant.
"I am leaving before I break the statute. Come outside so I can murder you properly, you bastard."
Laughing again, he motioned they were going to bill out. Then turning to Draco, he smiled a good school boy smile.
"Have some faith on your mother, you high-strung bastard. It's not like that." He pouted. "I'm hurt though. You're acting like I wouldn't be good enough for her. You should know me enough to know I love true. And I'm loyal. Aren't those good enough things?"
He held out his hand again.
Ron's not even aware, this tendency to offer physical comfort. It's something he's used to doing. Connection. Ron's always craved it.
"Come on. I promised you're not in any danger of calling me daddy, alright?"
I was easy for Draco's temper to deflate once he realized Ron actually wasn't dating his mother, especially when he let the redhead take his hand, almost automatically. It was a thing with them recently, that Ron would offer his touch and Draco would just take it without even thinking about it. It was comforting.
He sighed, blushing ever so slightly at Ron's last comment because of course, his mind went to a completely inappropriate thing there.
"You're good enough for anyone…but it's my mother, Ron." Draco said, stepping closer to the other man. "Besides, I don't want…" He trailed off.
I don't want you to love anyone else.
"Then why is she teaching you these things? Why are you spending time with her?" He asked, now even more confused than before.
His mother, as much as he loved her, was not exactly a woman that would warm up to people quickly. She also didn't just help people with these sorts of things just like that. Harry had tried to get close to her, months ago, when they had started dating and she had been nothing but cold and standoffish. Not even Draco's request that she behave better towards his boyfriend, were heard.
No matter what, and how much Harry Potter had saved their family, he had also been the reason for its ruin. Not that Draco thought that, but she did. She had loved Lucius, despite what a prick he had been, and it would not be easy for her to get along with Harry.
But Ron Weasley?
Well…Draco supposed he was a pureblood. He knew more of their customs despite how their family had been so-called blood traitors. And Ron was…well, he knew how to handle prickly blonds, that was for sure.
Handing his card to the waiter, doing quick work of signing the check, he ran a hand to his hair with his free hand. It messed the styling Draco did earlier.
"Dunno, really. It just happened."
He could feel the flush creeping up to his ears and he swore under his breath.
"I was doing it for you and Harry at first, but I ended up liking her. She ended up liking spending time with me. Or," He frowned and muttered, "-torturing me at first. I think you got your bitchy skills from that woman, not your dad. She refused to play chess with me, so we ended up doing
things she liked. But she liked I know the Weasley bloodline. Said how I'm not a lost cause." Ron rolled his eyes.
He was offended that day, the implication of it.
But he couldn't exactly tell her off for the comment. At the end of the day, Ron was a pureblood... and he liked he was one. Because to not like the fact was deny all his forefathers, the history of his family. Neither Harry or Hermione would appreciate it, but there's pride at the fact he can trace it all down the very root of the tree.
It wasn't about being superior.
It was about knowing his people.
"And she's family, isn't she? I felt... responsible. I helped turn her life into what it was. I mean, I'm not at fault, but to her, there's a blood vengeance to be paid. That's our way. So I kept visiting, let her draw blood everytime. It's not a big deal, it didn't hurt me when she did it. And then one day, she didn't." Ron sighed. He was running his thumb on the soft skin of Draco's hand unconsciously.
"You don't mind, right? I promise, it's nothing like you thought. I just think she's grand."
It was a terrible mistake.
Just listening to Ron right then, was the worst thing he could have done, because as he kept going on about Narcissa, and how she was family, and how he got what she was feeling like, their customs, it filled Draco's chest with something undeniable.
He was, despite knowing how bad it was, irrevocably in love with Ron.
And what was he going to do about it? Like the coward he still was: Nothing.
He still couldn't hurt Harry. He had a blood debt to pay for. His life for his happiness? Seemed fair.
Besides, he still did not know if his feelings would even be reciprocated, and even if they were, he knew deep down Ron would never hurt Harry either.
So Draco, was stuck.
But it didn't mean he couldn't say at least a part of what he was feeling, so he stepped closer to the redhead and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, his cheek squished against it. Draco wasn't usually a hugger, it was true, but certain occasions called for it and besides, it was easy, with this man.
"I can't believe you Ronald." He said, the sound of his voice muffled by the redhead's shirt, before he pulled away, straightening his own shirt and composing himself a little buit before his lip starte trembling.
"She's been so lonely you know? She has aunt Andromeda now, sure, but they're still not quite there, and you…the fact that you would even think of doing this? It means a lot to me." He looked up into Ron's eyes, smiling. "I wish I had known before." Draco added.
He could have meant several things with his last words. That he could have treated Ron better at school if he had known, that they could have been friends sooner or, the truth, that he would have never dated Harry.
Ducking his head and turning his body a little aways, Ron tried to hide his blush. But the arm holding Draco close to him squeezed tight. It's wonderful, having Draco in his arms like this.
Which was why he stepped away when Draco pulled back, lengthening the distance between them some more.
"Always the tone of surprise," he teased, and for a moment, he was thrown back to a time when he used the same praise on someone he loved way back in school.
Well, good. It's good. Being reminded he has yet to settle that issue was good. He has no right enjoying hugs from Draco, not when he's yet to clear to Hermione it was over. In fact, he has no right enjoying hugs from Draco ever.
"So, let's go then? I think we go get some pizza, just in case you and Harry get hungry later. And I can show off my fine dining skill eating finger food."
Strawberry and Cream afternoon delight
Chapter Summary
Ron's drunk.
Things escalate, fast.
Harry is just in time.
Draco and Harry's relationship was in a rut, and yet the latter seemed to be perfectly happy with it as it was. He came home late, after working his shift plus putting extra time at the auror department, found a sleeping Draco in bed, kissed his forehead and went to sleep himself. When he woke up, it was to a poorly made breakfast of pancakes and scrambled eggs. The two men would chat about nothing in particular, Harry would complain about work, but also express how excited he was about a new case, Draco would say he was bored and had to get out of the house, they'd kiss, and everything repeated the next day.
It would have been the perfect excuse to break up with Harry, if only Draco had the guts to do it.
But the debt, and his friends, and, and, and…
So Draco, not wanting to give up yet, thinking maybe, just maybe he could revive things, get Harry out of his shell a little, and get laid for the first time in a month, had a plan.
And maybe, just maybe, he might be able to use a newfound interest in his boyfriend to completely forget about a certain redhead.
That night, was the first time in a while that Harry was supposed to come in early, Ron was out, and so, the blond would have a surprise for the brunette.
Draco had put on his skimpiest underwear, and was lounging on the couch, perfectly perky arse up, waiting.
He waited.
And waited.
And kept on waiting.
And just as he was about to doze off, having realized Harry had yet again stayed late at work despite his promise, he felt something. A soft gentle touch on his back. A kiss.
Draco smiled and made an appreciative little sound. "Hmm..I had lost hope that you were coming."
There's a pause, then a muttered oath, and then.
"You're awake. Any reason why I shouldn't take a bite out of this thing --," and Draco's arse was hit, none too lightly. But the sting was softened when the same hand that hit him went to make soothing circles around the injured area.
There was even a bit of squeezing thrown in. Definitely some honest to goodness fondling. Never had a butt cheek been so thoroughly touched and squeezed.
"Honestly, Draco. You're making this awfully hard for me."
Ron dropped his notebook bag, followed by his coat—then the sofa's cushion dipped as he sat down besides the blond. Hesitated, it seemed, for a moment or two, and then somehow, his thumb was now edging the elastic leg opening of Draco's knickers.
"You know you live with a horny ginger, don't you?" His skin was warmer than before. It's the whisky in his system, courtesy of George and Charlie's bloody drinking game.
Draco yelped in surprise, head whipping backward to look at what seemed to be a rather intoxicated Ronald Weasley, if his flushed skin and heavy eyelids meant anything.
But oh merlin, he was touching him, no, fondling his arsecheek and rather dextrously at that.
Oh fuck, oh no. Draco was frozen in place for a long time, watching Ron put down his belongings, eyes following him as he flushed so very hard.
Then, the situation really hit him when he felt the other man's thumb touching the elastic of his underwear and Draco shot up quickly to a seating position.
Ron was drunk.
Ron was drunk.
Oh right, and Draco had a boyfriend.
Harry Potter.
His boyfriend.
Draco took a deep breath, and gave Ron a shake of the head and a friendly smile.
"Didn't know you were coming home so early did I?" He said, trying to sound apologetic though he wasn't exactly too sorry. He could still feel the redhead's heavy hand on his buttcheek. "And also you're drunk, so not really in any state to take a bite out of anything." He said, but really?
Really, really?
He wanted it. So very much. He wanted to jump Ron right then and there, fuck any propriety, or the fact he was drunk, or that he may just be joking, or that he was dating his best friend.
If only Draco could look past the consequences and just…take what he wanted.
And yet, he wasn't a cheater. He wasn't, despite how much he actually wanted to be with Ron instead, he wouldn't actually do anything to cheat on Harry, and he also knew something else. Ron wouldn't really want to do this either, if he wasn't drunk.
-
Draco Malfoy was wrong though.
He had a permanent channel in Ron's dreams. It's 75% porn, and 25% fluff. Sometimes it gets all switched. Sometimes, it's 90% horror. Which meant there was still sex, because what decent
scream flick didn't involve fucking? Luna said Ron's dreams were likely so strong and in high definition because of the brains.
And the dream tekklers, Luna said. They were right fun.
At any rate, Ron didn't need to get drunk to want to shag his best friend's boyfriend.
"I like what you're wearing. So this is what you wear for Harry when you want to get fucked hard?"
And shit, he realized he said that just a little bit mad. Like he can't fucking believe Draco would do that to him. He got comfortable on the sofa and put his head on Draco's shoulder. "It's not fair, you know." he muttered to Draco's neck.
-
No, Draco thought, it's what he wore when he wanted Harry to fuck him at all, but he didn't say it out loud. He just sat there, breathing hard, reaching a conclusion that really didn't help his situation.
Did Ron want him too? Is that what this meant, this question made with obvious underlying anger?
Were all those times he was flirted with, real and not just a joke as he had previously thought? And if so, what did that mean for them? Did Ron know he felt this way, that his relationship with Harry was going all wrong?
It was wrong, happening for the wrong reasons for both of them.
Guilt and debt and a savior complex.
And still, Draco did nothing. He took nothing.
Because he wasn't Draco Malfoy anymore, Harry liked to tell him. He was just Draco, he had changed so much, was so nice now, so good, selflessly waiting for his hard-working boyfriend to come home. Draco wanted to be all this, he did, he remembered what it was like when people thought he was awful.
But he missed it too, just a tiny bit, being Draco Malfoy. He missed the snark and the dramatics, confidently walking into a room and demanding to be seen. Being someone who wasn't just Harry Potter's boyfriend.
The old Draco Malfoy, would have taken Ron for his own right then, and people would have hated him for it, but they would have known to expect it.
Did Ron see it? That he was both of his names? Did he expect it? Did he want it?
"What's not fair?" he asked, leaning his head to the side just enough for Ron's face to fit snuggly in the crook of his neck.
-
Ron didn't answer.
Instead, Ron has sent his soul to the devil and started to -- for lack of a better word -- make sweet loving to Draco's neck.
If there was such thing as French tonguing a body part other than the mouth, that's what Ron was doing. His tongue made slow, long sweeps around the collarbone, and then close to Draco's jaw line. Open mouthed kisses, then the gentlest of pecks. Which whatever, it was still kind of straddling maybe not quite bastard territory on account he's drunk.
But then Ron's lips went up, ghosting the skin behind Draco's ear, and then that same damn tongue started molesting Draco's ear...
-
"Ron…" His name was a stifled moan, there was no other way to describe it, and gods did it feel good, Ron's tongue on his skin, on his earlobe, and why wasn't Draco pulling away.
He had to.
He must.
He was shaking as he did it, a gentle push on Ron's arm but still, it was one. How he mustered the will to do it though, Draco had no idea.
Breathing so uneven, he looked into the other man's blue eyes, and the pupils were blown a hunger in them Draco had not seen before. Fuck.
"Please, we can't, you can't, if you do…I don't know if I can say no, and you're drunk and…"
The front door opened.
"Draco, I'm so sorry, got delayed at work, you're not mad are you?" Harry yelled from the hallway.
-
There's no reply for Harry.
Ron's too busy looking deeply into Draco's grey eyes, and slowly letting some sanity back into him. For a wild moment though, it seemed he wouldn't let it happen. Just let the madness wash all over him. Just take what he's wanted for so long, and burn all his bridges.
He's been doing his best to forget—just a silly floundering because Hermione cut him loose yet again.
He told himself that. How he's been trying to forget.
But it's a lie. He's with Draco all the time, laughing with him, fighting with him. Making up with him. They have their own cafes, their own restaurants. They've even started their own traditions. It's hard because there were times when he goes into Harry and Draco's bedroom and he gets an eyeful of slim hips and flat stomach and a rather appealing – fuck. The more thought he gives to the whole thing, the more he wants to let himself hurt beyond a case of major blueballs. Whatever. Ron knew he doesn't have the luxury of sitting in the dark until it wears off.
It's just best to deal with it all in the most unhealthy ways that comes to him.
He fumbled around for a moment, grabbing at his coat and quickly standing up, pulling his fingers through his hair.
"Harry," he called out, and he's looking at Draco with all the hurt he's ever felt. His voice cracked,
just thinking about how good Draco had tasted, how for a moment the blond let him -- it was a dream.
"He's over here. Cheers, mate. I'm going out." He wants the real thing more than he wants to simply cum.
But he can't have it.
Cannot ever have it. It's time to move on.
Ron passed Harry as his friend appeared by the doorway, a greeting on the hero's lips cut off by the hard slap Ron gave his back before Ron apparated out of the house.
-
Draco told Ron to stay. Fuck Harry and fuck everyone else who would oppose them, because it didn't matter, not when their bodies cried out for each other, not when Draco knew he never felt more like himself than when he was with Ron.
He told him to stay and Ron did, his strong arms embraced him and Harry stared at him fromt he doorway before he yelled, they all fought, but in the end it was okay, Draco had Ron now.
Except of course, none of that happened.
It should have, because when Ron looked at him, something inside Draco broke. He could feel it, just a little bit more of himself dying away, leaving with the other man as he exited the room. There went Draco Malfoy. Here stayed Draco, the good boyfriend.
His eyes didn't leave the door even as Harry approached, even as he spoke, the blond heard nothing. His hands clenched into fists at his side.
"Draco?"
He left.
"Draco come on, you can't be this angry."
Gods knew what he was about to do out there, drunk, and as sad as he looked, probably conflicted too about what he was doing.
"Draco for fuck's sake, talk to me." Harry yelled and actually shook him by the shoulders, which finally made him look at his boyfriend's green eyes.
"I'm not angry at you." He said, and then he laughed.
"Fuck, I'm actually not angry at you, Harry, at all, and isn't that fucked up?" Draco laughed some more, a little maniacally, his whole body shaking with it. "Do you know why I'm not angry at you? You stood me up, you didn't say anything, and yet here I am, not caring about it. Why Harry?" He asked.
Harry gave him a strange look before shrugging. "You're understanding. You know how much being an auror means to me?"
Draco stood up, but not before picking up a nearby blanket and wrapping himself in it. There'd be no sex tonight. He was still half-hard actually, but it did not matter. "Sure."
It wasn't that.
Draco couldn't be angry at Harry. What right had he to be angry at the savior of the wizarding world?
"I'm tired, I'm going to sleep." He said and walked towards the stairs, but he was stopped by Harry grasping his wrist.
"You sure? I mean, weren't you waiting for me? To, you know…" And he smiled, and his smile was perfect, his green eyes looking at Draco like he wanted him, and the blond had no choice but to say yes.
Because what right had he, good, changed Draco, Harry Potter's boyfriend, to say no to the savior of the wizarding world?
"No. I'm going to sleep." And Draco Malfoy walked up the stairs, closed the door behind him and went to sleep alone.
-
Bubbling under the surface
Chapter Summary
Bit of smut, but unfortunately not Draco and Ron.
In the morning, the quiet in the house was broken by laughter in the kitchen.
Harry had slept on the couch, bitter and confused. He had tried waiting for Ron, hoping his friend would help give him some much needed insight, but Ron stayed away late into the early morning. By the time the redhead came back, Harry had given in to sleep.
He finally rose to a symphony of clattering tin and ceramic in the kitchen. Swinging his legs onto the cool floor, the pile of throw pillows he'd used to fortify himself before he fell asleep dropped beside his feet. He stared at them for a moment.
At first he thought it was Draco and Ron, but the voice Ron was talking to was a stranger's. Realizing his friend had picked up where he left off with bringing his one night stand's in the house, he shook his head and got ready to go out without indicating he'd woken up. He didn't like introducing himself to Ron's casual lays and skulking off to work without anyone knowing -- Draco included -- seemed to him to be a wise thing to do.
-
"What's that?"
Ron dipped a finger on the clotted cream and held it up for his companion to lick. "One of my mates going to work."
"One?"
"Suck it. Don't worry about the other bloke. He sleeps in. Oh fuck, yeah, suck another."
Ron quickly closed the burner cooking a cast iron pan of bacon and eggs. The guy -- Shawn, Ron reminded himself -- chuckled, and cupped Ron's dick. "I can suck more than just fingers."
Ron paused.
Shawn chuckled.
"I don't think there's anything left, mate."
Shawn heard a smile in the taller man's voice. He grinned, because he loved a challenge.
Shawn's an abnormally beautiful boy, his hair a flattering shade of platinum blond, though Ron's saw the stubble around his pubic area last night and they'd been more old gold than starshine. Still, a blond's a blond, and his face worked. Even better, he was enthusiastic. They paired up nicely, a head-turning couple, when they got it in on the dance floor in the bar he found him in last night. The cliché, every boy and every girl wanted to know or fuck him.
Ron was his choice.
(And the other way around also applies. )
Shawn pulled down Ron's trainers, mouth already pooling with spit at the sight of the red head's dick.
Ron choked on his laugh while Shawn started giving him the best morning head he's had in a long time, his hand grasping the boy's hair -- crunchier texture, not as silky as he'd have liked -- and told him he's going to get face fucked if he kept that up. Shawn merely hummed his assent.
When the entirety of his dick was wrapped in heat from Shawn's clever mouth, Ron closed his eyes and imagined a different face.
-
Draco had slept poorly and when he woke up and looked at himself in the mirror, it was noticeable. His hair was in disarray and he had dark circles under his eyes. He groaned at himself and grabbed his wand, casting a spell and glamouring those away. He still looked tired but not as shit as before.
He sighed and opened the door to his room, dressed only in his silk green pajama pants and started descending the stairs.
He heard some noise coming from the kitchen and glanced at the grandfather clock on the bottom of the stairs. Couldn't be Harry, he would have left already, so it meant Ron had come back and was maybe making breakfast. With a small smile on his face, thinking maybe things weren't so bad yet, he turned the corner and walked into the kitchen.
He froze.
Fuck.
Fuck. There was Ron there, yes, but there was also someone else, another man, blond, fit, kneeling between the redhead's legs and enthusiastically sucking him.
The chandelier behind Draco started to rattle, about the same time that the kitchen cabinet doors all opened, a plate sliding out and crashing into pieces on the floor. Draco's grey eyes found Ron's blue ones for a second.
He shouldn't have felt betrayed at all, he had no right to, but he did. Fuck, he did, because he thought maybe…after last night, after what had happened… he thought maybe he could…
The man, who had stopped his ministrations when the plate fell, looked a little dazedly at Draco and then between him and Ron a couple of times, like he was working something out, realization seeming to dawn on him after a few seconds.
"Shit…Is that Draco Malfoy?" He said, standing up quickly. "You didn't tell me you live with a death eater…wait, isn't he dating Harry Potter? Is that your other mate?" He asked, and he looked rather excited now, when he had frowned heavily when mentioning Draco's name.
The blond was shaking as he backed away and slammed the kitchen door behind him full force.
He grabbed a small ceramic figurine as he walked to the stairs, clearly a Black family heirloom and he tossed it at the wall. Wand at the ready, he exploded the grandfather clock and then ran up to
his bedroom, slamming that door closed as well.
And then he collapsed behind said door and burst into tears.
-
After a while, there's a knock on Draco's door. "Draco. May I come in?"
Draco's eyes were puffy and red and so was his nose, so he really didn't want Ron to see him this way.
At the same time, there was that part of him, the bad part, the one that always tried crawling out when Ron was around, the needy, Malfoy part that kind of wanted the redhead to know he was crying, that wanted his attention.
It won out, so Draco got up, opened the door a tiny sliver.
"Shouldn't you be downstairs having fun?"
-
Sheepishly, Ron put his hands into the pocket of his trainer.
"He ran off. Or I kicked him out. I'm not sure, really. Besides, no way we were having fun after all that." Ron had managed to fix a lot of what got broken, but the debris of some delicate ceramic and the clock was a no go. The mechanism was shot; they'll need someone who knew about clocks to get it working again.
"I thought you were going to sleep in, like always. I didn't think--,"
He has nothing to apologize for. Too many times in the past, back when Draco and Harry were starting, he'd caught them in the middle of the act, too. It's what happened with roommates, was all. And Ron's stubborn enough to hold on to the principle of the thing. Besides, why rake himself over hot coals again? He got it loud and clear last night: Draco chose Harry.
But he did have one thing to apologize for.
"Look, about last night. I was knackered and, well, you know how you look. I crossed a line, I know that."
-
Draco opened the door completely and stood there, in all his glory.
Which is to say looking shittier than that morning.
He also looked apologetic, because he knew, he fucking knew he had no right to be angry or upset. Ron wasn't his, he was still with Harry, and if the redhead wanted to have his cock sucked, he could.
But merlin, Draco hated it, he hated everything. Harry, Ron, himself.
And the guy, for having had what he wanted.
"Just keep it in the bedroom next time." He finally said, but his tone wasn't accusing, more defeated than anything, and Ron's next words just made that defeated feeling grow.
"It's not fair." Draco said. "Do you understand what I'm saying? It's…it's not fair, any of it."
-
The drinks, the sex, the argument, the exhaustion, the being back home, the thinking about Draco but acting like he wasn't … important, crucial, like air... it all settled heavily on Ron's back, making him hunch. He wants clarity.
Ron has fallen in love two times, and both times, he had one rule: If he loves a person and they love him back, they should be there always. An arm length away so cuddle time could be maximized. An owl letter away to plan what they want to do that night. A wink and a smile away for him to give his answer to a question. They didn't even have to love him as much as he loved them, because Ron has enough want in him to make it work for both of them.
In both times he fell in love, neither of the ones he chose fit the rule.
Hermione needed to be alone to do her thing.
(He wanted her though so he thought it could work out.)
And Draco? Draco already belonged to another.
(Everything else though? He fit perfectly.)
His eyes darted around the limited view of the room. He hasn't cared about what made up its décor when he first moved in, but a quick look showed it's not Draco's room, or Harry's room, but theirs. He scratched the back of his head. Looked down to the ground.
"Draco, I said I'm sorry, alright? I feel like shit about it. I took advantage and I know you and Harry had been having some trouble and --," Ron grimaced and forced himself to look at Draco in the eyes. "You know how I get competitive sometimes, and I was fucking drunk. The thing is, you're attractive. I'm fucking attracted."
And I love you, he thought. I faked my way last night, shagging that bastard from behind, so I can pretend it was you. "I'm shit. I'll fix it all, I promise. We're still friends, right?"
It rings hollow, his promise. Ron balled his hand into fist as he shoved it down his pockets again. He should have worn a shirt. Last night's rough sex had his partner leaving scratches and bites on his upper torso and it's weird to show it off now of all time.
-
Was it their room?
Draco had left his mark, true, but there was still so much that screamed Harry was the one in charge. The whole room was both too simple, and too old, having stayed as it was ever since Harry had taken over Grimmauld, with only minimal changes for comfort. The brunette resisted change, especially to Sirius' old home, and there wasn't much Draco could do about it.
Ot better, bothered to. It was like in the back of his mind he knew, he just didn't have any power here. That he was here because Harry had allowed it, because he had accepted him. Everything in his life now was because of the saviour.
It was suffocating.
And so, the room had some of his things, of course, because it was impossible not to, his clothes were in the closet, his slippers on the floor. A small photograph of his mother in the mantle, but there wasn't much else. Draco had no right, he thought.
He hated it. Hated this house too, who should have actually been his as the last Black heir, and the fact that he even let himself think that for one second, made him feel like a monster.
Demanding and entitled Draco Malfoy clawing his way back out.
It was exhilarating.
He sighed, and took a step closer to Ron, just so he could slide his hand down the man's arm, holding his wrist gently. It was easier to speak, and not to be angry at him, when there was a point of contact.
"Of course we are, and you are not shit." He said, frowning at the last word and Ron's self deprecation.
"You think I'm not at fault too? You think…you're the only one?" He said, just as he felt something settle in his chest. It had clawed all the way up there.
"I wanted it." He added, feeling a little dizzy at the confession. "Why do you think I was so angry this morning? Seeing you with…fucking discount Draco." He chuckled sadly. "I wanted it to be me…I wanted…I want you." And Draco looked fierce when he said it, his grip tightening on Ron's wrist. "I can't pretend anymore. I can't...I don't care if that makes me horrible. I want you.
What would Harry say? By merlin what would he do?
-
Ron forgot to breathe. By the time Draco was done with what he was saying, he was lightheaded.
It's the pressure on his wrist that brought him back, and he stared down at it duly, Draco's pale, long fingers in start contrast his freckled skin. He'd always liked the look of them together. But Draco looked good with Harry, too. Better, in fact. Their contrast complimented each other more.
They must have gotten into a fight, Ron thought, as his mind activated and tried to make sense of what was taking place. Some grand argument worthy of their younger years. It's why Draco was acting up, hoping to draw blood on Harry. With this, Harry would have no choice but to truly pay attention to the blond, and step up on his role as Draco's partner.
It's a strange thing to begin to care for someone out of a shared love of someone else… And yet.
He doesn't blame Draco for going this route.
Ron knew Harry. How single-minded he can get, where everything pales in comparison to a particular goal. Everyone else has to follow his lead and put their lives on hold, and any hint of rebellion was an affront to him and his good intentions. And Draco? He's Draco.
He does things like this. Not lately, and not the same degree as in the past, but when he's insecure or afraid, he lashes out. Ron knows, having been a part of his life for a while now, it didn't mean he didn't care.
He had looked deep into Draco's eyes, his gaze unabashed and unabating as he had said gently but firmly, "You don't mean that. What did Harry do? Did he said something mean last night? You
know that git's got a temper. Did he get jealous, seeing I was in the same room with you in that skimpy thing?" He flushed at the memory. "I'll send him an owl explaining it was nothing. "
He pulled his arm away.
He took a step back. It's taking everything in him to do it.
What he wanted was to surge forward, grab Draco's face and kiss the blond till he was breathless. No foreplay, even, just straight to fucking him, have him have a taste of what Ron has to give so he was ruined for everyone else. To demand Draco shout his name as he fucked him, the whole house echoing with passion cries meant for him and only him.
But he took a step back.
And another.
Because of his love for Harry.
Because of Draco's love for Harry.
Because of his palpable respect for both.
Because last night, when Draco should have said these exact words, he chose Harry instead.
-
It was like ice forming inside his veins when Ron spoke, piercing, damaging, numbing. He took a step back, one more, another, and Draco followed, forward, forward.
"No…nothing like that happened, nothing." He said, because Gods, he can't just give up already can he? No not yet.
"I meant what I said. I want you…I fucking need you. You can't leave. Please." Draco added, and he was frowning now, angry for not being listened to but also…
Also because, maybe…fuck was he wrong?
Was Ron just doing what he said he was doing? Being drunk, impulsive, wanting to win? Was it nothing else?
Had Draco been right before, when he thought Ron would never…Or maybe it was something else, the same exact thing he himself had been doing.
The blond freezes, his arm still outstretched, just as it was when the redhead pulled his arm away.
"You're leaving, aren't you? Just like that. Easy. For Harry."
Draco looks at Ron then, right in his face and smiles, but it never reaches his eyes. "We have to don't we? We owe him that much. Is that it? Just tell me, I need to know. Tell me we owe him."
-
Nothing like that happened, nothing. I want you…I fucking need you. You can't leave. Please. Ron almost gave in. He almost decided to let go of the trust Harry gave him, or their shared loyalty, because both knew, when it came to love, Ron could actually be selfish when pushed. Ron could leave Harry for someone he wanted to spend his life with.
Then Draco said something unforgivable.
Ron snorted. "Owe who? Harry?"
Because he defeated Voldemort? But that wasn't really all Harry's doing. Ron thought of that day before they realized Harry died in the forest, and Neville drew Gryffindor's sword and smite Nagini with it. The tide had turned. Maybe the war wouldn't have ended that day. Maybe it would have lasted longer. But Ron thought -- now, with a more adult view of things not affected by Dumbledore's meddling and the drama of a hero's journey -- they would have still won.
More people would die.
More people would suffer.
But they would have still won.
Because by then they knew what it took to defeat the monster.
He couldn't help laughing a little in disbelief.
"Draco, is that what you think? That you owe Harry? Because you don't." He wished he could take a hold of Draco's hand, to use that point of contact to bolster his words. But he didn't dare.
Just like last night when he kept his hand to himself while he kissed Draco's neck. If he did it now - - and then -- he was never letting go.
"You paid your dues. Your family is still now... fucked. You can't even get any work because of who you are. How has he saved you? If you think he's a hero, then you don't owe him anything because saving people is what heroes are supposed to do. He's just... Harry. He's just supposed to be Harry for you. Like he's Harry for me. Do you understand?"
He doesn't confirm his plan about leaving. It's a separate topic and one that didn't affect Draco at all.
-
The disbelief was mirrored on Draco's face, though it was about the complete opposite.
"Of course I do!" He almost shouted it, finally moving from where he was to step back. "I owe him my life. I owe him my mother not being in Azkaban…" He continued looking frantically around, his words coming out so desperately, making it obvious that he had kept them inside himself for too long.
"I owe him my friends. All of them, all the Gryffindors. You think they would be there for me like they are now if it wasn't Harry that made it happen? And the Prophet… they'd still be printing about the death eater who escaped justice if I hadn't suddenly become the savior's boyfriend and…"
Draco was almost gasping for air as he spoke. "And you…I owe him for you being my friend. Without him bridging it we would have never been us. I owe him everything. And I can't pay it back, it's impossible, I can never…there's no way…" Draco had stepped enough back that he fell on the bed, sitting there and looking completely wild. Everything he said, he realized, was true.
"All I've been able to do is try to be a good boyfriend, to be the person he believes me to be, but I wanted…shit, Ron, I wanted something else. For a moment I thought I'd just go wild and do it, get
what I want." He laughed. "But you don't agree with me. If I don't owe him anything…what have I been doing then? Why haven't I just left him?"
-
Ron wearily rubbed at his face.
He let Draco rant, thinking he was just venting and spewing whatever came to his mind.
Half the things he was saying made no sense, and the other half he can't help but feel pity. How could Draco think that? It's true Hermione and him were holdouts, and maybe even Seamus, but Neville? Dean? In the end, they would extend a hand regardless of Harry. Harry did not rule their lives. Harry did not dictate who they should like, who they should hate. And what of Ron? If Ron had found something objectionable with Draco, it wouldn't mean shit that Harry was dating him. Ron wouldn't be his friend.
Point: Viktor Fucking Krum, whom Ron only now has started to be nice to, despite the fact he's been Hermione and Harry's friend since fourth year. Despite all effort of everyone in the family saying he should give the Bulgarian a chance.
The Saviour's Boyfriend.
Harry Potter's Bestfriend.
"I'm glad you decided to live your life on what you want to do, Ron."
"You're more than that, Draco. You of all people know you're more than that. But the reason why you're doing this, it's because you love him. I know what it's like. Look,"
He shuffled away, moving away from temptation, because Draco kept repeating a lie Ron has no reason to believe, not really. "--it'll work out. I'll talk to Harry. Why don't you visit your Mum?" Maybe Cissy will knock some sense into her son.
Maybe she'll remind him that while Lucius may have turned everything to shit about the Malfoy name, that being a Malfoy didn't depend on Lucius. The Malfoy name existed long before Lucius, and should -- by virtue of its heir -- continue to exist.
Just like being a Weasley had nothing to do with being Harry's friend.
"... Can I leave you now? Are you going to be alright?"
He can't stay. The way Draco was now, it's too easy to take advantage. Ron knew Draco would be gutted once sanity returned, and his love for Harry was reaffirmed. He didn't want Ron. It was just thrilling, that he could have Ron. That's all there was to it.
-
It seemed Ron would not believe Draco, no matter what he said, he always had to pull it back to Harry. Always Harry. He would never not be the thing that stopped Ron from wanting him, and Draco couldn't even be angry about it because it made sense. It was fair.
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair and looking towards the window, before closing his eyes and breathing in deeply.
"Okay Ron." Draco said. "I'll be fine. You don't have to worry. I have Harry right? To take care of
me. Why should you have to stay and put up with my ramblings, right?"
He almost teared up again, but managed not to, instead, doing his best to summon that other emotion that could keep him going.
Anger.
Draco stood up and picked up one of his shirts that was crumpled on the bed, sneering at how wrinkly it was, before putting it on.
"Go on. Have fun wherever you're going, maybe take your new friend. He looked skilled." Merlin he knew he was being petty and a bitch about it all, but he had poured his heart out to Ron, and all he had in return was…
A reaffirmation that there was nothing he could or should do, other than stick with Harry. Keep at it. One day it might be good. One day he might just be able to pay him back for everything.
-
Ron lingered.
It was clear he wanted to leave, but the pained expression on his face also hinted how he was dying to stay. He's trying not to rewind all that's been said, because the logical part of him would turn it around and around and wonder. And he doesn't want to wonder. He told himself he already knew; Draco loved -- loves -- Harry enough to change. He has no interest to do this for Ron.
With Harry, Draco is all 'I understand' and 'I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.'
Ron and Draco do not speak this way to each other. They say, "Your orange waistcoat is appalling," "That stick up your ass should be cracking from all the hard ass clenching you've been doing." They do not say, "I like you just the way you are," or "I want to run my fingers through your hair," even if they both know it was what the other was thinking.
Ron doesn't know when they had wordlessly come to an agreement long ago that they were not to voice certain things, and now suddenly Draco was speaking them aloud and he does not know how to respond…
"Are you really fine?"
-
No.
"Of course."
Draco stood up, grabbed a pair of trousers, put them on and pushed past Ron. He needed to leave. The room, the house. He couldn't stay there a minute longer, not when all he would do once Ron left would be to wander around moping, and most likely go into the redhead's room and lie in his bed. It had happened before after all, and for much milder reasons.
"I'm going to Pansy's." He continued as he passed the door, she would know how to cheer him up, or at least she'd get him drunk enough to forget how to be sad. She was good at that and at making him remember who he was. Usually he didn't like it, the fact that she always pushed him about Harry and Ron, about what he was doing and why, but tonight, might be different.
Draco paused at the top of the stairs, his hand firmly gripping the banister.
"Just…" He glanced at the redhead and back before actually starting to make his way down. There was so much still to say and Draco should have done it. He should have gone back. "...Owl me." He said instead.
-
Ron merely stared and then ever so slowly nodded.
Then he watched Draco leave, with him staying exactly where he'd been standing the whole time. Heard the footfalls on each step. He murmured, "Why…" without meaning to because he does not want to know, he does not want to know why he has chosen to break the rules now, he just wants.
Draco was close to the landing, he could tell, and suddenly, he shouted, "Draco. I'm not friends with you because of Harry. None of us are. Don't sell yourself short."
Maybe he was already gone. Maybe he didn't hear it.
Maybe he shouldn't hear it.
He should run down to check. He should clear things up.
But... but Draco's just in a mood. Last night, Ron dared, and Draco turned him down and now Draco and Harry were fighting and that's all there was to it. Ron had to leave. A week. Maybe two. Give them a time to be just Harry and Draco.
So he doesn't go down to check. Instead, he stayed where he was.
-
Draco paused. He was already at the fireplace when he did, his fingers reaching for the floo powder.
He should have gone back up those stairs.
But Draco's in a mood now. Last night he thought he had made it clear that he cared enough about Ron not to take advantage of him, and now… Ron had spent the night with someone else.
Draco had to leave. A day. Maybe two. Give himself some time to think, to just be alone for a bit and then he'd come back and speak to Harry. So, he doesn't go up to check. Instead he throws the floo powder down and head to Pansy's.
The Masochism Tango
It's late. Harry's entirely aware. But he spent all of Saturday and Sunday doing his best to pay attention to Draco's needs, and Harry thought maybe they would both appreciate the space. Harry's not used to catering to people -- some part of him builds up resentment at the thought, at the act; a call back to when all he ever did was cater to everyone else. But Ron was right: He was being a shitty boyfriend, and Ron had thrown in how he let Harry do it to Ginny, but there had been good reasons for that. There was no reason for it now.
So.
"Draco?"
The clock they had to pay an insane amount repaired said it was already 27 minutes past midnight.
Harry hoped Draco was asleep. This way he can just change and slide in the bed without needing to talk.
-
Draco had been in a right mood the whole week, and he didn't feel good about it.
He knew what he was coming across like, that if anyone saw him the way he was now they'd be reminded of that boy from years ago, but he didn't know how else to be. He was hurting, confused, and lashing out was all he knew how to do.
Harry had tried as well, had been there the last couple of days, though he didn't really understand what was wrong. How could he, when Draco wouldn't explain things properly?
So that morning, Draco had decided to try. Ron had been gone for a week now, with no owls, no nothing, and Harry had been there, hadn't he? He was trying, so the blond had to too. He owed him that much.
But, when it came time to it after they had agreed on a romantic dinner, a night out, Harry hadn't shown up.
"Potter." He crossed the threshold into the hallway, eyes narrowed, arms crossed. "Did you forget or just decided there was no need to tell me anything?"
-
Harry winced.
"We were briefing and Robards wouldn't hear of any excuse to leave the room. Sorry."
"You were briefing...since when? I really doubt that you've been briefing for four hours!" Draco was as still as a statue but his anger was palpable in the air.
"Of course we were! Why would I lie about that?" Harry frowned. He wished Ron was here. His friend was always quick to back up this claim, having been an Auror for a short while. And just as fast came the resentment at the thought why would Ron's words carry more weight. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? Draco, I didn't mean for this to happen."
"Of course you didn't." Draco said sighing loudly "Why would you mean for it to happen right?
You just...have to be at work. No way the aurors can function without you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked.
"It's supposed to mean, that you don't have to be there all the time!" Draco glared, finally uncrossing his arms, hands curling into fists at his side "I did this whole thing, actually cooked and then we were going out and just...I just wanted you to care."
Harry felt like shit. "I do care," he assured him quickly. "But, Draco, I thought you understood. I -," He broke off and shook his head, then quickly tried to smile. "We can still eat it?"
He supposed he was hungry, too. And it wouldn't hurt to show Draco he was appreciated.
"Thought I understood what?" Draco shook his head. "That your work is more important than me? I do. I actually do, but I... sometimes I just want..."
The blond wasn't sure what he should say then. What he wanted... was more. He couldn't say that to Harry though. "Don't you think I should know that?"
Harry scowled. Sue him, he's tired.
"Draco, I have to do this. There are still a lot of bad people out there, and not enough Aurors. And it's harder without Ron there, because everyone starts questioning me when I do something off the books. They don't get me. Look, can't we just eat and then forget about this? Haven't I been doing enough the past week?"
Draco ran his fingers through his hair, obviously upset, but unsure what he was supposed to do. Does he yell? Does he throw something? He would know what to do if Ron was there, he'd do all those things, but with Harry... he wouldn't forgive him for it.
"I know. Fuck, I know!" He said "You think I want to be the guy telling Harry Potter he can't go help catch the bad guys?" He chuckled, shaking his head at himself "But that's what I want to do...because I'm selfish. really, that's who I am and... I want more than just enough."
"Draco," Harry said, and his tone was flat-out exhausted. "What are you talking about? You're not selfish. That's not you. We talked about this."
The expression on Draco's face more sad than angry now and when he spoke, he too sounded exhausted, defeated. "I am. Harry, I am." He said and made his way to the other man, his hand reaching to take Harry's.
It was a plea. He needed Harry to understand, he had to. "No matter how many times we ignore it...I've changed but I'm still who I was too. Is that so bad?"
Harry finds it easier to do things than to say them. Always has. It's - awkward, and unnervingly difficult, to find the right words, in the right order, at the right time. He's got many shortcomings when it comes to emotions, but his lack of awareness about how to handle others, his own, and how to show them, are perhaps the biggest, most obvious flaws of his.
He doesn't take Draco's hand but simply stared at it. It's the hand connected to the arm that has the mark. "Why would you want to be? Draco, you're better like this. I love you because you've changed so much."
Draco dropped Harry's hand like it burned him, his grey eyes searching Harry's for something... an understanding about himself that just wasn't there. Would never be, and the blond was just going to
have to live with it, wasn't he? Ron was gone, he had left because there was no chance for anything and even though Draco believed him when he said they would still be friends...there was no way Ron would forgive him for hurting Harry.
And he couldn't lose Ron. He understood.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Draco chuckled and then smiled at Harry and though it was weak and he wanted to cry when he did it, it was there. "Just forget it. I don't know why I said that."
Harry was relieved. It showed in the new light in his eyes, and in his smile. He was glad Draco understood.
For a while, he had been worried. Draco cannot go back to how he was, because it would reflect badly on Harry if he did. And it shouldn't matter, but it does. He's learning little by little, the world doesn't bend to his ways. After all, wasn't that why he defeated Voldemort? So noone will ever be the final word? So Draco has to fit a certain box, for the world to accept them.
"Brilliant. Right, so let's eat then? And don't worry, I'm not angry at all."
"Yeah." Draco nodded and walked towards the kitchen, his footsteps heavy and too loud to his own ears, and when he looked at the food he had put under a stasis charm, he wanted to throw it all at the floor.
Instead, he sat down and made Harry a plate. He was no cook, but the lasagna had come out alright anyway.
He slid the plate towards his boyfriend.
"Have you spoken to Ron?"
"Yeah. He's enjoying it there. The man's knackered a lot. You know what that means, right?"
Draco stabbed at his food with too much force. "Means he's taking care of dragons. He's written to you?"
"Right," Harry said, and his tone clearly meant, 'Wrong'. But even he was aware it might be dangerous, telling Draco Ron might be fucking his nights away. "Well, he sends me his patronus - Hey, how are you doing with yours? Ron told me you two were trying to get you to produce yours."
He doesn't want to talk about Ron, he realized. They don't need to talk about Ron.
"He didn't send it to me." Draco said and his tone was clear: he's resentful. "and I haven't tried anymore, maybe when he comes back... it doesn't matter anyway, I like actually writing out letters. It's a lost art."
"I can teach you." Harry offered.
Draco shook his head "No. He can do it, and I'm not really needing it now am I? Not gonna have any dementors trying to kiss me anymore, and besides, he said he wanted to be there to see what shape it would be."
"Okay," Harry muttered, mostly to himself. But he forced a smile and a nod. It's fine; he didn't have the time to teach Draco anyway. Harry laughed, awkwardly, unsure of how else to respond. He scratched the back of his neck, and doesn't meet Draco's eyes with what he says next.
"You know," he said slowly, "the offer's there. The way Ron is going on about Romania, he might not come back."
It's petty. And he regretted saying it as soon as the words were out. But also, suddenly he was watching Draco's reaction.
Draco's knife skidded in the plate and it made an awful screeching sound. "He would tell me if he wasn't planning on coming back. He said a week or two, so he'll be back in a week or two." Ron wouldn't lie to him. He wouldn't. "Why would you even say that?"
Harry's eyes narrowed. It rubbed him the wrong way, how sure Draco was about this. Ron would tell him first and not Draco . Ron was his best friend. "I just said, didn't I? Ron likes it there."
"So? He still wouldn't just leave." He wouldn't leave me. "He wouldn't leave us, just like that, and even if he did... Well we'd just travel there and visit wouldn't we?"
Harry doesn't answer. Instead, he told Draco the food was nice. He was pleased, he said. It felt like he was stalling something.
Draco frowned. "Thanks." He said "I tried. I know I'm not very good, but..."
"It's great! And you can just keep practicing."
"What do you mean? I'm not going to cook just for myself." Draco said and then shrugged "Besides, I'm going to try finding a job soon."
"Why?"
"What do you mean why? Why do you have a job?" Draco asked in an annoyed tone.
Harry put his fork down. "Draco," he sighed. They were talking in circles. "Not this again. I'm trying to do something good. I owe this to the ones who died in the war. You don't have to do anything. I'm happy it's like this."
"Yes I know why you have one, Harry, I just meant I want one too. I want to do something." He frowned even harder than before, his grey eyes focused on the plate of food he wasn't eating. They had talked about this before, when Draco had been trying to get Harry to help him with the Ministry. "You may be happy with things as they are, but I don't want to just be here all alone every day with nothing to do."
"But it's too risky, Draco." Harry said.
"...What do you mean?" the blond asked, his annoyance growing.
"I just meant, if people see you out more often..." You might do something and it would reflect on me. "We won't have time at all with each other."
It was a valid concern.
He was grateful he thought of it.
"No, it won't make any difference. We'll have the same amount of time. You get home late and the difference is, so will I." Draco frowned and got up, taking his plate to the sink and giving himself a moment to think.
"There's this potions master in France, and he said he might be willing to take me under his wing. I
just need to go there and show him what I can do."
"France?"
Draco must be joking.
Harry's jovial mood was falling.
"Why? Ron said it wasn't a bad idea...Well he said I could try Slughorn too, but I don't think I want that." Draco turned around again to face Harry, noticing the mood. "What's the problem? I can commute. There are daily portkeys there."
"Ron thought, did he? Since when does what he think matter more than mine?" Harry's tempted, so tempted to say something stupid.
He's not aware he's already said it.
"It doesn't. Both matter, but I'm telling you what I want to do. I don't see what your problem is."
"I'm saying you don't need it. And you have no idea it is how dangerous it would be to portkey from that distance all the time. Do you have any idea how troublesome it would be for me if you got hurt?" Harry said with a frown.
And that's it. That's what draws him out. The annoyance bubbling too much and spilling out.
"So that's what you care about? How troublesome it would be for you?" Draco shouted.
"What the actual fuck Harry?" He stalked over to him, hand slamming on the table. "Not about me getting hurt, or about how this could be an opportunity...but how it would look, for you. You absolute prick!"
"Well, of course, I care about you getting hurt!" Harry's face was twisted with hurt pride. "But I'm an auror, and if something was to happen to you, it'd be a nightmare, that's all I meant! It's like you forget how hard it is enough to make time for us when nothing's wrong."
"Oh I'm so sorry if me getting hurt would be such an inconvenience, Mr. Auror, sir." Draco was fuming then, and he didn't want to hear anymore. He owed Harry, he wouldn't leave him, or hurt him, he would do nothing to make Ron angry at him, but he wouldn't let Harry hurt him either. Not like this at least.
"I'm doing it, Harry. I'm accepting it next month." He walked to the door, his footsteps heavy again, but now in such a different way.
Merlin, he missed Ron. If he was there he would have talked to Harry, made him understand.
Harry quickly followed. "I didn't explain properly. Merlin, Draco. I just meant, of course you won't get hurt, but I just wished you thought about it more."
"No, Harry, you wished I did what you want me to." Draco stopped and glanced back at him "And I want to. I do want to and not to give you any trouble. I know I owe you that much, but this will be fine. I've just one thing for myself. I need it."
Harry was done. Gritting his teeth, he rushed past Draco. Whatever, the blond will get it.
Harry's not used to Draco asserting what he wanted and he believed it will take a couple of days, but Draco would understand his point of view.
All he had to do was sleep it out, and remember to be the boyfriend Draco needed him to be.
Draco didn't stop him and just watched him go before following up the stairs. Harry would understand eventually. He knew he would.
The boy with the dragon tattoo
The last week had been hell.
No, not because Harry had been bad or because they had been fighting. Quite the contrary, after their fight a week ago, when Harry had simply left to sleep it off, he had been really trying. He had been home for dinner almost every day and when he hadn't he had sent his patronus to explain why, and he had even taken Draco out once.
But, if it was an example of the rest of Draco's life, he hated it.
He had thought that having Harry around, that doing all the things they were supposed to be doing would make him finally happy. That it would help him move on and accept who he was actually with but it had simply scared him.
Because when Harry and him had dinner, they talked of Harry's job, of the Ministry. Sometimes they talked about their friends, sometimes an article in the Prophet, but always, always their conversation lulled.
And when Harry had taken him out to buy some potion supplies, he had sighed the whole time and made faces at the ingredients. Kept saying how much he had hated potions back at Hogwarts apart from 6th year. It was tiring.
And when they had sex, and they did, almost every night, because Harry was, again, trying, it was on the bed, the same positions, the same creaking rhythm of the bedposts. It wasn't bad. Honestly, if it had been bad it would have been acceptable. It would mean they could improve, but it wasn't. It was satisfactory. It was good enough. They both climaxed and then they both slept.
It was all just enough.
It was a surprise then when Draco woke up to noise downstairs in the kitchen because the usual routine meant Harry was gone long before he was up. The blond yawned, stretched himself fully on the bed, put on his slippers and walked down the stairs.
"You're still here? You always leav…" Draco froze at the entrance of the kitchen because in there, was not his boyfriend.
There was a bright head of red hair by the stove, his freckled arms on display a little bit burned from the sun and something Draco could not understand yet peeking through his sleeves. He practically yelped before darting across the kitchen and latching unto Ron from behind, arms encircling him as he rested his forehead on his back.
"You're back." And just like that, the whole of last week, meant nothing.
"Oh, you're all friendly now, huh?" Ron chided, voice pitched low, barely audible above the bustle. "Got bored without your Ron to put some vinegar in your life?"
Then he turned around, hands covered in flour and sticky dough and hugged Draco without touching his hands on the blond. He's not morose but his hug wasn't boisterous either. It was a lingering embrace. "You had fun while I've been away?"
He expected the answer to be yes. Harry's last message to him had been of relief; his best friend truly believed he and Draco have patched it up. It meant cutting back on job postings and cases, but
Harry admitted it had been great, rather than worrying. He hadn't realized how he'd been running himself to the ground with Auror work.
'He's good for me, Ron.'
That was what Harry's patronus said, in Harry's voice, and Ron told himself he was glad. And that it was time to stop pining and actively look for someone to love. Someone who didn't belong to Harry.
Pulling away from the hug, he pushed Draco away with his elbow. "Sit down, yeah? Merlin, I miss having an actual kitchen. I'm telling you, the conditions in that place Charlie's in..."
-
There was a fluttering in his stomach at the words: Your Ron.
Merlin, he wasn't his Ron at all, but it had taken all of five seconds of the redhead being back for Draco to know nothing he or Harry had done, none of their trying, had changed anything.
There was no use. No point.
Maybe Ron wasn't actually his, but Draco was undeniably Ron's.
"No. I didn't, but lets not talk about that, tell me more about Charlie's terrible place." Draco asked, his smile lighting up his whole face and almost making it hurt. He hadn't been smiling much the last days, he noticed, the muscles were out of use.
He sat, but made sure his chair was as close to the other man as possible as if his body was craving the contact it had missed. "Did you actually get to be around the dragons? Did you get hurt?"
-
Draco's smile should be a criminal offense.
Ron turned around.
The puff pastry shouldn't sit too long without being kneaded was all.
"What, like it's scary?" he teased. Then he shuddered at a particular memory of a an ironbelly female.
"My brother's certified insane, Draco. Why the hell would anyone want that job?" Ron clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Well, but it was fun though. I actually think Harry would enjoy it there. There's a whole bunch of rules and regulations in place, but honestly, the only thing that matters is not getting anyone or yourself killed. Hand me that stick of butter, won't you, luv?"
Ron frowned.
Ron flushed.
"Er, they call each other pet names there. Got used to doing it." Not a lie. But it also felt good to call Draco that.
-
Ron couldn't see him, but Draco's face had a look that would be obvious to anyone that saw it. He
was completely and utterly smitten at the pet name. He didn't really care if it was true that everyone there would use them, because for the moment, if he could enjoy it directed at him, he would.
"Honestly being an Auror is too stressful for him, and he keeps getting worried about how things can affect his job." Draco frowned slightly remembering how Harry had told him that if he got hurt it could reflect badly on him. That still stung quite a lot.
He stood up and handed Ron the stick of butter, his attention grabbed by the redhead's flush, and then…
Oh gods…that was a tattoo. The thing he had seen before peeking out of Ron's sleeve? A Tattoo. Draco could see it clearly now that it was a drawing of something, and without even thinking twice, he slid his fingers under the fabric. "You got a tattoo, darling?"
-
"Charlie," Ron groaned out the name like it was a curse. "Don't make fun of me, alright? Leslie said it was good, but... And stop that. It tickles."
His skin was steadily getting to that lovely shade of tomato red. He wished now he'd kept it hidden, but he figured it was best to get it over with during the first day of coming back. He could have hidden it, but it's too big to hide forever.
-
"I would never." Draco chuckled as he tried peeking into the sleeve. "Show me?"
Ron shrugged. "Just pull it up. And again, I stress, it was Charlie's fault. Fucking git got in me a dare."
The skin at the back of his neck was burning. It felt weirdly intimate, showing this to Draco. Of course, Ron had an idea why. His brother had assured him the tattoo would reflect him, and he'd assumed something similar to the dog runes on Sirius' or something related to Gryffindor. But a green dragon with grey highlights where the head curled past his back shoulder towards the front, and settle at the base of his neck? How the fuck was that a reflection of him?
"Mum's going to birth a cow when she sees it. Bad enough when Bill and Charlie came home with one."
-
Draco smiled and pulled up Ron's shirt, taking the chance to let his fingers touch his skin.
And then, when it was completely up, and he saw the green and grey dragon…
There was no way.
There was absolutely no way, it wasn't about him right? He wasn't reading too much into it?
Okay maybe…maybe he was, there was every chance that Ron had just liked the design.
But.
Draco was speechless for a bit as he traced the outer lines of the dragon, up to Ron's shoulder where the head curled so elegantly.
"Wow…" He said finally. "It's…it's beautiful, Ron." Draco said, his heart beating fast and then faster still when he saw what happened.
-
Wherever he touched, the green and silvery grey scale seemed to shimmer, and the spine of the dragon moved ever so languidly. It stretched it's full length, pressing itself, it seemed, deeper into Ron's skin, before curling into the same position as before. Ron hissed slightly, and felt hot all over, both from the soft caress of Draco's hand and the charm released by the tattoo.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
A tattoo that responds to a lover's touch, the inker had said, looking pleased at the result. Amplifying the sensation of intercourse, or release, or simply being together. Ron had shouted and ranted so loud the next day, even Charlie had been worried he and Ron might come to blows. In the end, Ron had run off to help with transporting some newly hatched dragonlings, and Charlie had wondered if it was true what Bill said when he said their youngest brother must have been marked from birth.
Good luck or bad, that was the question.
Bill was of the opinion it was good. Fleur thought so, too, apparently.
But Charlie thought his gorgeous sister-in-law was biased, seeing Ron had always been sweet to her and was practically closest to what Bill looked like before he got clawed.
Fucking Charlie. Ron'll find a way to get even with the git if it's the last thing he ever did.
"Don't get used to it. I'm trying to find someone to get rid of it," he cautioned Draco, shrugging out of the blond's touch and using his elbow to tug his shirt back down.
-
Draco let out a soft sound when the dragon moved, somehow the shimmering scales and the movement looking so familiar, so right.
And then he removed his hand so quick, ice traveling up his arm. "Why? You hate it?"
-
How could Ron hate it?
But he had to move on.
Feeling it moving when Draco touched him was the very fucking opposite of that. And he can't exactly explain why it moved when it did, can he? He might as well go and stab Harry face to face if he did.
Fucking Charlie.
"Isn't it too big?" he tried to joke. "Ginny and George will just make fun of it. And Seamus will fucking insist it's about you, and I love Seamus, but I'm this close to punching him sometimes."
-
Draco only shrugged.
Merlin, he had been so wrong. It had nothing to do with him and if it did, well… Ron was keen on getting rid of it.
Nothing had changed. Not for Ron.
Unfortunately, or perhaps, fortunately, it had for the blond. It was sudden, it had only needed a few minutes of seeing the redhead again but it was enough. It didn't matter how much he owed Harry, how much he might hurt… It seemed more and more that Draco owed him the truth above everything else and a chance to have someone truly devoted to him. Harry deserved that.
-
"What's this about Harry's job? I thought he wasn't doing overtime anymore?" Ron asked interrupting his thoughts.
-
Draco turned, though it pained him to avert his eyes from Ron's back and sat back down.
"He's not, most of the time at least, it's not about that. I told him about the France potions master and he didn't want me to go. Was worried that if I went and got hurt, it could complicate things for him at work." He said, with a small shrug. "But I'm still doing it.
-
When Draco explained about Harry's thoughts on the matter about his career in France, Ron frowned.
Bastard. It seemed Hermione needed to have another heart-to-heart talk with The Boy Who Lived. Putting the pastry on the baking sheet and covering them to give them time to rise, Ron finally turned around. He'd sensed Draco had moved back a bit, and the added distance was good. He can be a friend if they were a foot away.
"Good for you. So, what's your plan today? Because I'm invited to the Burrow and Ginny said so long as it's not Harry, she's fine with me bringing you along. I think it's finally time we fix that, yeah? You can't be an honorary Weasley if you don't come for the holidays. It's positively appalling thought. "
-
Ron's words were a balm to Draco's wounded pride.
The tattoo wasn't about him, fine, but this was. An honorary Weasley. His father would be rolling in his grave for sure if he had ever heard that, and yet it filled Draco with a sense of accomplishment.
And if he was an honorary Weasley, it meant he must be a little brave, somehow.
It meant he could do what he needed to, he could get through it and he could survive a world without being Harry's boyfriend.
"You mean that? What you said about…" Draco didn't realize he was choking up a little but his voice failed slightly and suddenly it was obvious.
"I want to go yes. Should I bring anything? Wine? What would your mother like?" Suddenly it was so important to make a good impression and he stood up, looking rather nervous.
"What if they hate me?" Merlin and they would, especially after what he now knew he was going to do. Harry was, after all, a Weasley as well. He had already done the bad thing of getting with Ginny's ex, and now he'd break up with him too?
-
"Let's get her a nice shawl. I think she'll like that."
Relieved that Draco dropped the subject about the dragon, Ron turned his attention to where an army of kitchen utensils were busy cooking for him. He'd been flicking his wand at the lot, getting them to do other jobs, when Draco showed his insecurity regarding his family.
Ron shook his head.
"If they do, so what? You won me over, didn't you? But, also, don't worry. I'll be there." He thought of Fleur, and how Bill had been blind to the bullying. He loved the man, but Bill had felt the constraints of being the favorite son when Molly and Ginny waged war on his poor wife back then. He had turned a blind eye. He got lucky his wife was a champion, in every sense of the word.
"I invited you. And if Ginny sasses, feel free to hex her. I'll deal with Mum if it comes to that. It won't, but I promise I'll stand by you."
He doesn't know if it means anything to Draco, but Ron's nothing if not loyal, and he'll honor this promise. Scratching his nose, he left on it a streak of flour at the very end, before he motioned to the food at the kitchen table.
-
"It's true I did." Draco said with a small smile.
He had, even if it wasn't more than friendship, what they had, it had become bigger and better than any other. Even Pansy, not that he'd ever say that to her, she might kill him.
"I know you will." He added before reaching up and wiping the speck of flour from Ron's nose, first with the sleeve of his jumper, then finishing it up with his thumb. "I can match Ginny's bat bogey hex now anyway, I believe." He then grabbed a bowl and a fork, looking like he was thinking about something else.
When he spoke again, he looked directly at the redhead, that Weasley courage he supposedly was an honorary part of, sudden but undeniable.
"Ron? Are we…look I know Harry's your best friend, and I couldn't ever be that but…we are something, important. Aren't we? I know we are…I feel we are, but I want you to say it, you understand? I need you to say it. That it's not just Harry keeping us here."
Draco was going to end things with Harry as soon as he could, he was, there was no going back on that, but it didn't mean he didn't need to know he'd still have Ron no matter what. He needed him to say it, to confirm it.
-
When Draco cleaned his nose, Ron stilled, and telling himself it was a punk move -- actually,
scratch that -- it'd be downright pathetic to take a deep whiff of the scent clinging to the fabric of his shirt. He did not miss Draco that much. It's just Ron was stunningly alone and stunningly lonely. And he tended to get attached to people he was always in contact with.
That's all there was to it.
Still, he was glad when Draco moved away.
He was also glad his shirt was closed neck; Draco did not need to see the dragon moving again at his touch.
Fucking Charlie.
Making himself a sandwich, not bothering to wipe his hands and already mentally chuckling at how Cissy would react to his new table manners, he paused in confusion at what Draco said.
"Draco...," he said slowly, "What's this about? It's not about the friend thing from before I left, right? I thought --," He broke off and looked at him being so horribly, awfully vulnerable. He sighed. "I li- no, sod it, I love you. You're just as important as Harry, and Hermione, but in different ways. "
Was he at fault? He'd never been good at words. Never been the one to bring up the big serious questions, what it all means. He could feel a slight flush rising to his cheeks.
"You know, right? Not even Harry can make me like someone, if I don't want to? Harry doesn't control my life like that. I don't ever want you to think you're less than Harry to me."
-
There was something about the way Ron looked at him then, that made Draco feel at once amazing and completely gutted. It was so good to hear his words, but he didn't want to see such a look on the redhead's face, ever.
Since when had Draco Malfoy cared this deeply, he wondered? Enough that just a look from the other man could make him feel that way.
That was the real change. Not the fact that he had dropped his purist views, or that he wasn't a git to people. It wasn't that he had stopped sneering at things he didn't like, or the fact that he wouldn't insult people for their manners.
Because, apart from said purist views, he did do all that still, he realized, just not when Harry was around. Draco still sneered at Ron when he was being an idiot, still scoffed at Hermione and thought himself smarter somehow, insulted Seamus' manners, rolled his eyes at Luna's antics.
The real change was that he cared about them all, and somehow, it seemed that they cared about him too.
Unfortunately, it just wasn't possible to do it with Harry. He expected and was owed so much, especially from Draco. Oh they cared about each other very much, maybe even had been in love at first, but Harry would always be a hero, a savior, and Draco would always be the one getting saved because that's what Harry needed him to do.
But there's only so much you can repay someone until you give too much away.
Draco smiled softly, his grey eyes stormy but gentle and reached forward, his hand settling on
Ron's hip.
"I love you too." He said, and he meant it, he meant everything in those words and he knew Ron wouldn't understand that, but he needed to say them clearly.
"And I think I know that…I want to know it." He chuckled softly "How did we get here? We used to hate each other so much. I was a right bastard, still am, really, you let me be one when I need to. And you're still rather insufferable too, I must say." Draco continued, removing his hand from Ron's hip then. "And now I'm an honorary Weasley and you spend time with my mother. No one does the things you do for me, or put up with my antics the way you do, you realize that?"
He took a small bite of his food, finding it rather delicious.
"I've figured some things out is all. Finally. I just have to get the courage to do what I need to do. No matter what happens, and especially if nothing ends up happening and I get nothing out of it." Draco rolled his eyes at himself. "Merlin, I make no sense. Forget that will you? Lets talk about where we're going to get that shawl."
-
Burrow
When people imagine love, they think of the rapid heartbeats when their partner walks in the room. They think of unconditional admiration, adoration, and infatuation with every detail they discover. They think of the redness in their cheeks as their thoughts get jumbled with each kiss. The thrill of the new, of all the places they haven't explored together and the possibilities of the journey they will take.
Long-lasting love doesn't make your heart race, or your thoughts clouded. It doesn't rely on perfection, shattering at the smallest crack in the illusion of the ideal partner. Long-lasting love is comfortable. Comfortable love is your overwhelming emotions settling when you see your partner's face. It is the safety you feel when you're in their embrace. It is the serenity in simply existing by their side. Comfortable love is peaceful. Comfortable love is calm.
Comfortable love is to grin at someone and insist they taste your sandwich creation, and when offended if it's not good enough, buckle down to make something else. Comfortable love is to walk side by side in Muggle London, one hand on your companion's back as you write 'S E X Y T W I N K' and asking them to guess what you wrote. Comfortable love is marveling at the street scene before you, presented by the large window of the shop as your partner dismissed the offer to help of a shopping clerk because he has better taste than anyone in that city combined. Comfortable love is to comment the Queen lives close by, and you get an eyeroll because they stand by what they said.
(Comfortable love is dancing naked for them as you sing off key when they are busy watching a TV show. Comfortable love is being okay to either watch with them or shag like rabbits on the couch.)
Ron bought a gauzy silk shawl shot with silver for Cissy.
-
In the Burrow, Victoire glared at Draco and grabbed her youngest uncle's hand, pulling him to where she had made a little tableau of afternoon tea. Ron laughed, and folded himself on the tiny chair given to him, and listened to Victoire explain how Teddy was an annoying git and how she expected Uncle Ron to slap his bottom silly.
Ginny handed Draco a wine-filled mug.
"I think we both need this today, to get through the awkward part," she said.
She smiled.
-
But for Draco, there was nowhere more comfortable than with Ron, even when little Victoire glared at him and dragged the redhead away, even as Ginny Weasley, a woman Draco was sure hated him deeply, handed him a mug of wine. Her smile was genuine and caught the blond off guard enough that when he brought the mug to his lips and tasted the subpar wine, he didn't make a comment on it.
"Definitely…Thank you for having me though." He said instead and got himself a nod and a hard pat on the back that almost made him spill the wine. He narrowed his eyes at Ginny but just as he was saying something, Molly entered the room, and went straight for him.
It was alarming how an older lady could move so fast and abruptly and when she reached him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, Draco almost ran away.
"Oh but look at you…you're all skin and bones." She said, pulling away from the embrace and turning to look at her son and give him a reproachful look, clearly blaming him for the state of Draco's body.
"Ah no, Mrs. Weasley, this is the way I…" Her eyebrow rise obviously was good enough to shut up an army of Weasleys and so it was good enough to shut him up to.
Ginny gave him an approving nod and then went to sit by her brother, giving him a shove and whispering something in his ear.
"Now, go and have a seat dear, food is almost ready." Molly said, her smile warm as she walked away to the kitchen, leaving a slightly dazed Draco in her wake. He put his mug down though, he had enough of his wits for that, and made his way to the two siblings.
Didn't get far before he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. Was he to be assaulted by all the Weasleys today?
But it was Bill, and Bill was so like Ron, despite his obvious scars, that Draco was immediately appeased. Not to mention that said scars were his fault. The blond tried not to think about it too much and ruin dinner. Besides, Bill was smirking at him.
"'Bout time Ron brought you around here. The way he goes on and on I'd have thought you'd always be attached at the hip." The way he spoke, was conspirational and made Draco blush slightly.
"Leave 'im alone Bill." Fleur said as she walked past her husband and gave Draco a dazzling smile. "It is too stressful already to meet the family for the first time."
Draco gave her a grateful smile, ignoring the obvious implication of her words, and finally made his way to Ron and sat down next to him. His hand went immediately to give Ron's a small squeeze, trying to reassure himself more than anything.
Out from under Ron's collar, the dragon blew some fire and Victoire's eyes went big as saucers, while Bill gave his brother a curious look. "Oh uncle Ron! What is that?"
-
Ron swore under his breath. Molly glared, and called George's name, and George slapped Ron's head with a bread roll.
"Bloody hell!"
George hit him a second time.
"Don't swear, Ron," Molly admonished, her tone cross.
Victoire was not happy at being ignored. She's not used to it. "Uncle Ron, what was it?"
"It's his tattoo," George said in an off-hand manner, as he stared at the bread roll from earlier, shrugged and started eating it.
"HIS WHAT?"
Ron turned to Draco and grimaced. "I'm sorry," he apologized.
Maybe he shouldn't have brought Draco today. He had thought his mother -- no, his whole family - - would behave with a new person around, but Ginny was laughing and asking if it was a pygmy, and Victoire was wild-eyed asking her mother if she can get one as well, Bill was trying to feed Louis some sweet yams and the baby was intent on decorating the ceiling with it, and George, the rat bastard, was announcing hitting Ron with the breadroll made it tastier for some reason.
"We don't have to st--,"
"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY--"
Ron groaned and grabbed Draco's hand for support, causing the dragon to peek out the collar and stare at the rest with silvery eyes. Victoire shrieked excitedly.
"--YOU WILL EXPLAIN YOURSELF THIS INSTANT!"
-
Draco squeezed Ron's hand back and grimaced. There was no surprise there, that Molly wouldn't really be into her son getting a tattoo, and especially one so large.
Not to mention a dragon. Merlin, if she thought Ron had done it at all in connection with Draco… she might hex him right then and there and the blond knew just how deadly her hexes could be.
Fortunately for both him and Ron, the one person who could save them was in that very room and he was looking calm and collected, sipping some tea, while his wife gave him a very suspicious look.
"It's a dragon, mum." He said simply.
Draco, who had been expecting something much better, a bigger explanation paled a little bit before daring to turn and look at Molly, but what he saw, caught him off guard.
She was frowning, yes, but her face wasn't red with the anger that had been there just a few seconds ago. Instead, she looked between Ron and Ginny the latter smirking harder than ever, something like triumph in her eyes. Fleur smiled to herself before handing Bill a piece of bread.
They all clearly had a secret language that was eluding Draco.
"He got it in Romania." He finally spoke, looking slightly confused at the other blond in the room before his eyes trailed back to Molly. "With Charlie. It's quite nice, truly it is Mrs. Weasley." Draco added just as George snorted loudly.
"George, behave!" The matriarch said, and sighing loudly she walked over to Ron and hit him with a tea towel over the head. "I get why you did this, but I don't understand why you boys must ruin your bodies like this, I don't! In my day we'd just write a nice poem or some flowers, honestly Ron."
-
The woman's mad. Bonkers. Ron looked at Percy to see if he had an idea what their mum was going on about, but Percy was busy murmuring things to his daughter, who was solemnly nodding and murmuring back, "I shant, father."
Victoire had enough of the fact she's not the center of attention and crawled under the table to pop out next to Ron, where she then proceeded to ask if he can make it breathe fire again. Also, she would love it if her uncle got her flowers.
"Vic, I don't know how to make it breathe fire."
"What's it doing then?"
"Moving?"
Ginny cheered. "Cheers, let's see it!"
And much heckling later, Ron grudgingly pulled at the neckline of his jumper to show them the dragon's head, but doing this meant he had to let go of Draco's hand. The tattoo was impressively done, but otherwise, it was simply cleverly drawn ink on (freckled) skin. Victoire pouted, and went to poke it.
Nothing happened.
"It's charmed, right, Ron?" Bill asked. "Darling, it's got to be touched."
"But I am touching, Papa!"
-
Draco watched the proceedings a little baffled at how the mood turned so fast. If this had been the Malfoy home, years ago, when his father was still alive, if there was yelling it would happen for a while, no matter what anyone said.
Here, it was different, and though he wasn't really part of the family, though he had done them wrong so many times in the past, they were still accepting him in their midst, feeding him, handing him a drink.
"Weird, it was moving before. What's it charmed for?" He asked as Victoire removed her finger from the tattoo and once again asked her dad why it wasn't moving anymore.
Without thinking about it, Draco reached for it himself, and as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the freckled skin, the dragon's scales shimmered and it roared to life. He took a sharp intake of breath and looked at Ron, a question in his eyes. It seemed no one else shared that question as they all looked at each other knowingly.
Victoire, who was obviously too young to understand the true meaning of it, still understood the gist of it. "Oh! Oh look it moved again, oh…uncle Draco!" The blond startled at the sudden new name for himself, and Bill did the same, though Fleur just watched her daughter with an amused and rather proud smile.
"You touch it and it moved. Wow! It's so pretty!" She said, her eyes twinkling as she watched the dragon move. "Ron?" Draco asked.
"Well look at that, the food is done." Molly suddenly exclaimed and the look in her eyes told everyone she meant they needed to all move to the table.
Fleur gave Bill a look and quickly grabbed her son and without even asking, handed him to Draco, who practically yelped at the gesture, but held the toddler in place.
"Ron, Draco, will you please take Louis upstairs, see if you can get 'im to fall asleep while we set the table. Thank you chéries." She said and immediately exited the room after everyone else.
Draco stared at the small blond baby. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
-
This was a disaster.
Ron was starting to get a sinking feeling. Like he (and Draco) had been orchestrated upon and were now caught in some Weasley shenanigan. The worst part, it wasn't George headlining it, but Bill and Charlie. Just because the two oldest brothers were retired from mischief didn't meant Ron should let is guard down; there was a reason why they were the standard.
"Come on," he told Draco.
Still, he thought, as he walked up to Bill's old room, he was glad for the distraction provided by his nephew. It saved him from answering Draco's questions from earlier.
The baby grunted and grabbed a handful of Draco's shirt, and glancing down at them, Ron couldn't help but grin.
"Kind of look like what your kid might look like," he observed. "Have you and Harry ever talked about kids? Because let me tell you, don't ever let him name them. That bastard has the worst ideas about names. And that's coming from a guy named Billius."
Ron's not the best actor, but the delivery of that line went rather well, he thought. Not resentful or scathing or jealous. He supposed it just meant he would love whatever child Draco and Harry would produce and claim as their own. He could do this then. He could be part of their lives.
-
Little Louis babbled incoherently as he was carried upstairs by Draco. His hand fisted in his shirt and at one point, he giggled rather loudly and then leaned his head into the crook of the blond's neck and settled that way, thumb in his mouth.
He blushed at Ron's words. He had been trying not to think about the exact same thing for the last minute, though his thoughts did not have Harry as the other parent.
It was quite embarrassing to think such things and Draco was disgusted at himself for his stupid thoughts.
"He does yeah. Maybe I have some veela in me…imagine that. It would kill my mother and make father roll in his grave." He sneered a little at the mention of his father but it quickly changed into a smile when Louis babbled some more, apparently trying to say Billius.
"Would explain my magnetic attraction though." He winked and got swatted on the nose for it by the baby. Clearly, Louis had bad taste.
"And of course not, Ron. I'm not having a child with Harry. In fact…I'm not doing much with him anymore." Draco said, though he knew this wasn't exactly the time to talk about how he was going to break up with Harry…Ron's best friend. Yeah maybe mentioning breaking up with a bona fide member of the family in a house full of Weasleys wouldn't be the best idea.
Ron had been chuckling at the jokes, but the mention of Lucius held him back from making jokes
of his own. He's still mulling about it, the connection Draco have with the man, when the blond made the comment of not having children with Harry. Startled, he turned again slightly to look, wondering if his friends have talked about not having children together. It seemed to Ron it would be a shame, and he was about to say so, for once thinking hard about how to word it so to convince Draco.
"No kids...," Ron said quietly, slowly.
"But nevermind that…" Draco paused and sniffed the air, eyes widening. "Ron! Help me! I think he just….oh merlin." Draco practically thrust, what he would have described as a smirking Louis, into Ron's arms. The kid knew what he had done and he was loving it.
"What do we do?!" He tried not to panic but it wasn't like he had any experience with babies, and he was already gagging at the smell alone.
-
Louis made a good argument as to why not having kids wasn't so bad.
Ron shuddered, and thrusted the baby back at Draco.
"Not it!" And he even took more steps away from the radioactive bundle of yuck in Draco's arms so Draco couldn't give the boy back to him. "Oh, that is foul. That is... just wrong."
-
"Oh gods, oh no, Ron!" Draco pleaded but it was clear in Ron's face that no help was going to come, not in the face of such danger. Louis had also started to fuss, his bottom lip trembling and his eyes beginning to water, so Draco, who most of all did not want a poopy and crying baby in his hands, kept the baby at arms' length but walked into Bill's bedroom and set him down on what he assumed was the changing table.
"What now? Do I just….Do I just open it? It has shit inside!" He said, turning to Ron while Louis started what could only be described as an impression of fifty peacocks screaming at the top of their lungs.
Draco would know.
"Dear Merlin…Can't I just…scourgify it?"
-
Ron's first thought was you do not use magic of Fleur's babies. Just because she's soft and sweet now didn't mean she couldn't do damage on you when she's pissed. But the smell was getting to him, and he made choking sound indicating he was ready to projectile vomit right then and there.
"Aguamenti," Ron said. "Just open his diaper and you get rid of it and I'll do aguamenti."
Fleur doesn't have to know anything.
-
Draco made some inelegant sounds as he reached with his arms stretched out as he undid Louis' diaper.
The smell made him gag and he almost dropped his wand from sheer terror but he looked
desperately at Ron and then pointed the wand at the most disgusting thing he had ever seen and with a flick of it, and with thankfully a lot of precision, managed to vanish.
"Oh Gods, quick, quick do it!" He begged and tried not to hate the little baby, who was, by the sound of his giggles and gurgles, absolutely loving what he was putting his uncle and Draco through.
"Oh you laugh! You laugh but one day I'll tell this story to your girlfriend!"
-
And then both Draco and Louis got drenched as a stream of water hit them. Thankfully it hit Draco more, and the baby was just an unfortunately bystander of the splashes, which meant the devil spawn started to giggle and scream in delight at the unexpected spray of liquid on him. "Oh, shit," said the bastard who casted the spell, as he quickly toned it down and directed it to the baby's disgusting poop covered bottom. He glanced worriedly at Draco, muttering "Sorry, mate," as he does. He sounded all properly sorry, too. Really. The sort of smirk at the corners of his lips had nothing to do to what Draco looked like at the moment.
Now... what to do with the runoff?
Right, thought Ron. Maybe scourgify was the spell they should have used...
-
Draco glared hard at Ron, but the effect was completely lost when he looked so drenched and there was a baby laughing at him.
"You bastard!" He said and he aimed a small stinging hex at Ron's leg for good measure. "I bet you're not sorry at all, and look at the kid. He's gonna get sick that way." Draco added and there must have been some mothering instincts in him, some deep-seated ones, because, though there was still poop, he decided to take charge.
"Accio wipes!" He said, blushing a little at the realization he could have just done that in the first place (!), this was where the kid's parents were staying it would make sense they would have supplies after all.
They came flying at him and he caught them, taking one out of the package and, still keeping it all at arm's length, wiped Louis' butt with it. "This is so disgusting…and he needs another diaper, Ron. Find something quick!"
And then luckily, or unluckily, Bill came in, obviously wanting to see why they were taking so long. He caught a look of his brother, of Draco completely drenched with a poopy wipe ad his wet but laughing son and just burst out laughing too.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?"
-
Ron, who'd yelp at the unnecessary retaliation on him and had been inspecting his leg for damage, still muttering under his breath how of course he was sorry but not anymore, not after what Draco did, quickly grabbed Louis.
He then ran to the laughing Bill to deposit the baby in his stupid brother's arms. Scowling at Bill, who refused to stop laughing, Ron then went to grab Draco and shoulder checked Bill out of the
way as he dragged the blond to his room, where they could change in peace and dry the wet clothes Draco was in.
"You didn't have to hex me," he told Draco resentfully. Bill's laughter was thankfully fading as Louis pleased shriek escalated.
Ron decided he still wanted children, definitely, but he also wanted House Elves (meaning more than one) and Hermione can stuff it if she had something to say about the fact.
"Come on, up here. I might have some shirts you can wear while you get dried off. Merlin, let me just --." And so saying winked out of existence the dirty wipes in Draco's hand.
It would serve Bill right if it materialized over his face.
On hand and foot
Chapter Notes
You know the feet kink tag? This is the chapter where it shows up. It's not so bad...promise.
Also, yes, I'm terrible and had to put foot in the title...
Draco huffed as he was dragged to Ron's room.
"You deserved it! Leaving me all drenched and with poop all around me." He said just as he was pushed into the aforementioned room, his eyes going immediately wide and disbelieving.
In front of him was the most orange, ugliest room he had ever seen.
It didn't make him love Ron any less...but almost.
"What the fuck is this?" Draco said, gesturing at the walls full of cannons' posters. "You actually slept here? You…Ron…This is…Merlin help me."
-
Still smarting from the hex and the fact Draco was not showing any hint of remorse, Ron wasn't in a particularly friendly mood at what he was accurately guessing will be an attack on his interior decorating skills. Flinging open his closet doors, he grabbed at some random shirt -- also a Chudley merc, because of course it is -- and threw it at Draco's face.
"Just get out of your clothes, already," he said, snippily.
That should have dropped the subject.
But it rankled, alright? The criticism he heard. Against his beloved Chudley. Which, no, well, it was more the room's color scheme, but it was like that because of the Chudley items strewn about and that's not nice to sound horrified. Chudley was... was a religion. The only reason there's no altar in Ron's old room was because Ron moved it to his room in Grimmauld.
"What's wrong with it?" he asked, grouchy and tensing.
-
"It's orange, Ronald. Orange." Draco said, looking with obvious disdain at the shirt tossed at him, but because he also noticed how grouchy the other man was becoming, he sighed and pulled off his wet shirt.
"It's only acceptable existence is on your hair."
It was cold but he needed to wipe himself down, couldn't just put on the new shirt and wet it as well.
"Do you have a towel or something?" He asked, walking over to Ron and trying to peek over his
shoulder at the contents of the closet, and completely unable to do so. Ron was just too tall.
"And stop it." He said, squeezing his shoulder. "How would you like it if you went to my room and it was all Slytherin green?" Draco asked.
-
"Are you trying to say they're the same thing?"
Because they're not. One was the color of evil. The other was the color of the Chudley Cannons.
Without waiting for an answer, Ron grabbed at another shirt and started drying Draco's hair with it. "Take off your pants. I know it got wet, too."
And it's actually all very innocent. Even the shoulder squeeze didn't register in the boner meter, because Ron was preoccupied about the honor of his favorite team. As compromising as it looked, it was very above suspicion sort of deal. Even fatherly, what with the cool and efficient way Draco was being toweled off.
Of course, Draco still had his pants on, so who knows?
-
"I'm trying to say…" Draco started, a small noise coming out of him at the drying of the hair.
He enjoyed having his hair touched, quite a lot. "...that we all have different tastes. I obviously have a superior one, but you already knew that."
The blond gave him a cheeky smirk as he started to unbutton his trousers and pushed them down, with difficulty. They were clinging to his legs with how wet they were and they were tight to begin with.
"Here, help me." He said, before stepping back and sitting on the bed. He extended one leg, the jeans only halfway down it before they got stuck. "Pull them off."
He did in fact register how this could be thought of as strange by anyone who watched them, especially when he was supposed to have a boyfriend, but this was nothing. It was just a product of special circumstances. Even if Draco wasn't about to break up with Harry, there was no way this was anything but two friends just, doing something helpful and innocent.
-
Next thing Draco knew, he was flat on his back, Ron having used the momentum of taking his pants off to get him in that position. Then Ron flipped him, quickly transitioning him and using being stunned at the change of events to get his way.
His way: To straddle the now just-underwear-clad blond, facing the blond's feet, one leg actually bent so it formed a 90 degree angle, making it possible for Ron to grab at one foot. His fingers drummed on Draco's right sole, and he adjusted his arse to a nice position on the small of Draco's back. He didn't put all his weight on the man, but made sure it's enough to make it impossible to get away.
"Who has better taste?" he asked, even as he lazily made figure eights on Draco's lower leg.
-
Draco's new position was actually perfect, because it hid very well the growing hardness in his boxers. Merlin, why did Ron have to manhandle him that way, and why did he love it. Harry had never done anything like that, was always too gentle, loving, but not passionate. There was nothing wrong with it, but they had never discussed sexual things, never had time to figure out what each other liked.
He really shouldn't be thinking about sex when Ron was sitting on him.
Draco gasped at the touch on his leg and bit his lower lip harshly to stop himself from making any more sounds.
"Me…I do. You can't change my mind." He whispered. "Get off, you fiend." He added, but his heart was definitely not in it.
-
Ron was calmly wiping at Draco's feet and leg.
By now, it's just only maybe half-innocent.
"Say it's me and that you love my room, and we will both get out of this with our dignity intact."
-
The lip-biting got more intense, surely it would be bruised afterward.
"You want me to lie? Not very Gryffindor of you…What does huh…"
Draco reached back with his hand and tried feebly and without conviction to push Ron away.
"How are you taking my dignity away?" Merlin, he was so hard now, so wanting, and it was so difficult to keep himself from moving his hips and get some much needed friction.
-
When asked, Ron will say the dragon was at fault. It had been stirring for a while now, scales shimmering, and he felt it. But otherwise, it was just heating his skin, nothing more, nothing less. That stopped being the case when he got it in his head he was going to tickle Draco into submission.
Somewhere between the seconds leading to that plan being executed, Ron could feel the heat traveling on the pathways of the Dragon's spine, chasing the cold from his skin away, making him shiver. Tickling didn't seem to be worth the effort, not when the new position afforded so much better access to other activities.
Ronald Weasley, he's a bit of a pervert. It's not normally discussed, because he's choosy about who to do his perversions with. Certainly, his one night stands never get the version his long term partners get and at the end of the day, it's not bad, not at all.
So nothing really worthy of gossip, because they'd be implicating themselves, too, and so far it's just been Hermione and some bloke he dated for a while, who hadn't known about Ron being a wizard and therefore didn't know people to gossip with about the youngest Weasley son.
For a while, it seemed Draco wasn't going to get any answer, but then Ron put his face close to Draco's foot then started to nibble at the arch. Then a slow lick halfway from knee to ankle.~
-
Draco blindly reached for a pillow, his fingers thankfully finding one quickly and pulled it down to his face so he could bite down on it instead of his poor mangled lip. He couldn't moan. He refused to let out a sound, because if he did, he would embarrass himself so hard.
He hadn't known until that very moment that he was into such a thing as having his leg licked, his foot nibbled, but boy was he.
Draco needed to stop this quickly because now his hips were starting to move of their own volition and he was afraid if it went on he was just going to come on top of a horribly orange bed. He was better than that, surely.
"R-Ron!" He managed to say, following it up with an unfortunate small but audible moan.
"Ah…Why…Ah…Please just let me up, I can't…it's…you're making me kind of…" And back to the pillow biting he went because he had almost said it.
And no, it didn't occur to him to try to move his leg away. He could hurt Ron if he did, and he definitely didn't want to kick him or anything, that was why.
-
"Say it then," Ron instructed, even as he went inspecting Draco's little toe. He made little bites on it, and then used his tongue to swirl around it, before sucking on it completely. Some distant part of him acknowledged whatever it was he was doing now has chucked propriety out the window. This was a full fledged seduction.
He was seducing Harry's boyfriend's fucking foot.
But that's alright. It's just because he's spelled. That's it. The dragon tattoo. Has to be.
Never mind he'd dreamed of doing this for a while now, every time he had Draco's foot in his hands, giving him a foot massage as they watched on the telly. Draco's feet were beautiful. Like everything about him.
He hadn't even known feet were a turn on until Draco came into his life.
When he angled his body to lean forward, so his dick was pressed on the softness of Draco's arse, he didn't bother hiding the fact he was moving his hips. He had no such compulsion to show some control the way Draco was doing. Besides, he could always say he was adjusting his position. Suck a fucking shame his pants was still on, but it might be better this way; no danger of accidental penetration.
-
Draco was lost, he was completely and utterly gone. There was no way he'd come out of this with his dignity intact.
Sure, he knew that he could technically stop it by saying what Ron wanted him to say, but the problem was, he didn't want to.
Because he too hadn't known that having his toes sucked was a thing he liked until that very moment and to be fair he doubted that it would feel any good with anyone else. With Ron, everything felt sensual, everything was something he craved and needed.
His muffled moan was loud enough to be heard this time. "Fuck…Ron…Fucking hell." Draco gasped out the words, his movements against the mattress now probably obvious to a person sitting on top of him. He needed more though, gods he needed more or he was going to go insane, so he managed to slide his hand between himself and the mattress so he could cup his erection and rub it. Maybe if he was fast…if he could use his wand right after…
Fuck, but that was crazy of him, doing that while Ron was on top of him, and sure he was sucking on his toe, but maybe he was just being…Ron. Just playing, just…
No, fuck it, there was no way the redhead didn't know what he was doing, Draco wasn't going to go into such heavy denial. Whether or not Ron would ever want him, would ever think of hurting Harry at all, the truth was, in that moment, he was doing that on purpose, so the blond didn't stop, didn't take his hand away from his cock.
-
It's not true what they say that desire clouds the mind. Maybe it's possible when one was drunk, but the way Ron was now, there's no pretending it was all heat of the moment. He knows a line's been crossed. He's aware he's a piece of shit. Which just goes to show, how much he wanted Draco. No one has ever made him cross that line of betrayal, except for family. But to burn with desire and keep quiet about it, he can't do it anymore. He's punished himself for too long.
Sex was the consolation since he could not have who he loved.
If only for just this one time. And really, he assured himself, not even really the whole deed. Just the prelude. Just a taste of what could have been.
Feeling Draco moving under him, Ron brought a hand and started to kneed one side of Draco's arse, the grip almost punishing. At first, the texture of Draco's briefs was nice, but even that flimsy barrier became offensive. An annoyance he wanted gone. Soon, he had his hand under the fabric, his long, calloused fingers seeking out places it had no business touching. When his middle finger dipped into Draco's buttcrack, Ron actually paused, actually stilled. Put his forehead and lay it on Draco's ankles and shuddered.
He felt like an animal. All feelings, all wants, all needs. Was that alright? Animals don't know sin, do they?
Things are sweeter when they're lost. Hermione told him that line, from an author she liked, she said. Ron, in that split second, wondered if the sweetness that will come to what he'd planned to do next will compensate for what he's about to lose.
He started to rub. He had no plan to poke anything in, he told himself. He won't take it that far.
But this much was fine. Using his ring and pointer fingers to spread the cheeks apart and use his middle finger to slowly rub that slightly puckered nub.
Draco just couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to flip around and touch Ron, touch him everywhere, every inch of his skin, to lick every single freckle on it and to take, take, take. His body was on fire by now, sensitive, needy and ready, oh so ready for everything Ron would want to do to him, or with him.
And when the redhead's finger touched him there, slowly, gently, but obviously knowing what it was doing, it finally took him over the edge.
It wasn't just that it felt good, that he could just imagine what it would be like to have Ron's cock
do the same, stretching him open so well, but also that he knew now, with certainty, that the other man, wanted him back. Only a complete fool would not know now.
Draco moaned rather too loudly into his pillow, his body going tense and his toes curling as his orgasm hit, washing over him like waves of relief. Merlin, it was so good, and it had happened so easily too. The thought of just how easy he could come for Ron almost got him hard all over again right away.
that's when the door opened and Victoire stared at the scene before her.
"Are you two wrestling? Papa said it's no good," Victoire informed them solemnly. Rough play leads to ouchies. She should know; she gave Teddy a mild bump on the head eight days ago in their last visit to Andromeda, because the git said something about girls being rubbish at hitting. So Victoire pushed him off the bed. Still, how curious that Uncle Ron had Uncle Draco's big toe in his mouth.
She made a face.
-
Of course, it was the perfect time for Victoire to barge in and the reality of what they were doing, in Ron's childhood room, with his family downstairs to hit him.
Draco yelped loudly and tried to wiggle from under Ron as well as he could.
"V-Victoire, darling!" He said, as he wildly reached for his wand so he could scourgify everything. "We can be really silly sometimes, yeah. We won't fight anymore, y-you can go downstairs we'll be right there for dinner." Draco managed to say and was quite proud of himself for doing it, when he could feel the stickiness in his underwear and his pale skin was all flushed pink.
Victoire narrowed her eyes in disbelief, taking in the scene and declared. "Well, good, that is quite disgusting. Maman would not approve." and she walked out of the room before Draco could tell her not to say anything to her mother. Shit.
"Oh gods…she's gonna tell Fleur."
-
Ron was flushed red, too.
His mouth was dry, and the blue of his eyes were just a hint now with the way the dark pupils have been blown open with desire. He licked his lips as he stared at the door Victoire left open. He could hear his niece's light step on the threads of the stairs as she hopped down where the rest of the family were likely engaged in banter. Oh, she's definitely telling.
And then Bill will decide if he was going to help his wife kill them, or convince his wife to let them live for a few more days, and stew on the thought of their imminent death.
Ron took a deep breath.
"Did you just cum?"
-
Draco's hand shook a little bit, but he managed to grab his wand and wave it just right to cast that
scourgify, the clean but cold feeling settling in his nether region.
He hid his face in the pillow for a second, trying to will his face to stop being so red, but failing horribly because Ron's question was just…so direct. Draco had two choices: he could pretend nothing like that had happened at all, that he had just been in pain or something, or he could confess what he had done.
If it had been a few days ago, before Ron had returned from Romania, and before Draco had made his decision to end the relationship with Harry, he would have chosen deceit, but now?
"Yes." He said, words a little muffled by the pillow before he turned his face to the side and sighed. "I mean… what were you expecting, with what you were doing?"
-
A mix of emotions churned inside Ron. Joy. Longing. Despair. Self-hate. Right now, Draco was the last person in the world he wanted to be with. He was also the only person in the world he wanted to be with.
The self-hatred swayed to pity. Then to hopelessness. Then back to disgust.
at himself always at himself
He loves Harry and Draco in different ways. But that could not be. He turned away.
"Fuck," he muttered, sitting down and hanging his head as he tried to sort out the situation. Downstairs, there's variations of shrieks of 'WHAT?!' and George and Angelina's mad cackle, and a roar from Bill how he's going to kill the git.
"You know, right? I'm going to have to leave. Fuck, Draco. I'm sorry. I keep ruining it."
So saying, he flicked his wand at the door to shut it, setting a charm learned from Auror training so even someone like Bill would have a hard time opening it. It helped his emotions that so easily affect his casting was at all time high.
-
Panic.
Draco sat up so very fast, a heavy frown on his face as he moved to tightly wrap his arms around Ron's shoulder, as if he could physically stop hi from leaving.
"What the fuck are you talking about? You're not leaving again, just because of this. It was as much my fault as yours. Did I stop you at any point? No." He said, his forehead pressing against the back of Ron's neck.
He had to make him understand. He needed to.
"Don't you see… I want you. I don't love him. I'm breaking up with him tonight, I've decided already." The movement in the other man's shoulders made him tighten his grip. He knew Ron was feeling guilty, and he was too, truthfully, but there was no doubt now they wanted each other. Why did they have to be miserable just to make one other person happy?
Shit.
They didn't owe Harry this, surely.
Draco knew Harry wasn't going to leave him now, or let Draco leave, because he was too comfortable and too eager to keep saving him. To keep molding him into a perfect model of society. Perfect doting boyfriend.
But he wasn't one. He wanted to shine too, he was selfish and he wanted more.
"Please, don't. Stop. Why can't I have this? Just one thing? I know I did bad things, I know I should atone, I know I should be meek and settle for what I should have, grateful even…but fuck that. I don't care anymore."
-
Ron should be happy.
It's not unrequited.
But he has been Harry's friend for too long, and there were so many complications that comes from what Draco has revealed. He knew; he's a fucking asshole, since Draco's only said this because Ron showed his hand first. Some part of him admitted he'd hope for this outcome. And now he's got it. And now the guilt was eating him alive.
These are the facts: Ron loves Draco, but he does not want him in a way that causes Harry to suffer. What Ron wished he knew was whether Harry wanted Draco desperately, as desperately as he did, despite himself. Because that's what Draco deserved. That kind of love. Along with a love that made it easy to settle of the sofa, in a comfortable embrace, as they watched some stupid muggle highschool show.
A when-Draco-smiles-at-him-he-is suddenly-seventeen-again -- the-year-he-realized-that-love- doesn't-follow-the-rules-the-year-he-understood-that-nothing-was-worth-having-so-much-as- something-unattainable love.
He put a hand over the arms Draco had flung around him, and gave one a gentle squeeze.
"You don't get it. He loves you, you know?" And I'm not good enough, he thought. If Harry wasn't enough for you, what more when it's me?
Outside his bedroom door, he could hear cursing, and an astonished "Wow, Bill. You telling me Ron's got you trumped?" The door held firm against the multiple spells being used on it, but it won't last long. He could hear George and Ginny cheering, though George didn't seem to know who he was cheering for.
-
But what are the facts?
Harry doesn't love really love Draco.
Harry doesn't really love him. He loves what Draco means.
And that was enough, until it wasn't anymore, until the blond realized he didn't have to settle for being an idea.
"Stop. He doesn't, not really, you don't know what it's like when we're together. It's not…not like
when we are, you and me." Draco said his brows furrowing even more and he moved so his hands were now on Ron's shoulders, fingers digging in hard, as if he was trying to forcefully dig the truth into the redhead's skin.
He was also angry at Ron, because he wasn't listening, he wasn't understanding anything, when Draco needed him to.
Ron sighed. "Come on, let's dry your things and get out of here. "
"Is that what you want? To just leave and forget this happened? Because I won't. I am ending things with Harry, whether you want me or not. Whether he thinks he loves me or not. Whether you leave or not."
Fuck, it felt like a weight was lifted off him when he said those words. Maybe it was true what they say, that you have clarity after you climax.
"I'm not going to do it for you, Ron, if that's what you think, that you're the cause, that you're destroying Harry's happiness or some nonsense."
He got off the bed, shaking his head, looking for that stupid orange shirt to put on. "Stop being a martyr for him, because I will. I'm doing this for me. You can't change my mind. I love you, but I won't do that for you."
-
Ron didn't say anything.
He was in some sort of crisis as Draco started explaining the situation to him. It felt good knowing nothing he was going to do would really change anything, but that was now. Once again, he had to admit to the fact he did start something then. Maybe Draco didn't think so, but Ron knew it-. If he had not shown Draco how he felt...
Draco would be living in a state of perpetual inconsequence.
Harry would be in boring bliss, where everything was in order and right and good, and nothing like the chaos and destruction he encounters as an Auror. That's what he needed: Draco sweet and biddable because it makes for a quiet life.
Ron grimaced.
He saw Draco looking at him, waiting for an answer. I love you. But Ron couldn't say anything. He just looked at him helplessly, for once his courage leaving him.
The door opened.
And it's Molly who stood there, a deep frown on her face as she watched her youngest son and the boy she knew he loves so deeply just staring at each other, a great distance between them. Bill was cursing up a storm somewhere in the background, but with Molly barring the way, Ron knew they were safe enough.
Molly closed the door.
"What's going on?" she asked.
Ron shook his head, and without another word, went to the window and started to climb out of the
house. Molly rolled her eyes, but didn't stop him, because this was Ron, and this was love, and Ron may have always come off as her most complacent son but six years in Hogwarts and always his clock hand had shown he was in some form of mortal danger at least once a year. Complacent sons do not get poisoned or fight Death Eaters or suffer from Unspeakables' projects in barred rooms in the Ministry. And Bill's a curse breaker but Ron's a trained Auror. Bill had the right to be pissed at his daughter being corrupted this early (in fact, Molly was, too) but she could sense the emotions rolling off her youngest. Nobody will win if both fight today and everyone will be losers.
She let him leave.
She went to Draco instead. Went and hugged him, and whispered, "The best ones are those who can break your heart. You stay, and help Percy and me in the kitchen?" She pulled back and touched Draco's cheek with a gentle pat. "Ron's always given me trouble, too. But he does good in the end. So let's make his favourite in case he comes back."
The thread breaks
Draco helped Molly and Percy cook, though his mind was completely elsewhere. He was both angry and disappointed, but mostly he looked sad to anyone looking at him. Even Bill had abandoned his crusade to murder him and Ron, when he was informed of what had happened by his mother.
Or at least he had abandoned it for the moment.
Then, when about half an hour had passed and Draco was whisking some eggs, a bright light dashed through the window and Harry's stag materialized in the kitchen. Molly looked between it and Draco with concern as the patronus spoke in the chosen one's voice.
"Draco," it said. George mimicked it, and Ginny threw an apple at his head. "Where are you? I'm home early, and I have a surprise for you. Come home soon?"
"Sounds romantic," Ginny said drily. "Let's make him wait?" She grinned cheekily at Draco, an evil glint in her eyes.
Molly admonished her and looked at Draco worryingly.
"Are you going, dear?" But what if Ron comes back?
Draco looked between Molly and the slowly disappearing patronus and sighed, putting down his whisk.
"I have to. I have to speak to him. Ron's not coming back anyway, not now. I know him, he's running away from me." He frowned slightly and then gave the woman a cheek kiss and waved at the other two. "Thanks for having me today... it was really good of you. Especially you, Ginny." The blond said, looking sheepishly at her, and got an eyeroll as payment.
--
When he arrived at Grimmauld, his heart started beating fast. Not because of Harry himself, as one might think, as it should be if he was in love, but because he had to do something unpleasant. "Harry? Where are you?"
Harry called from the kitchen.
Draco unwrapped his scarf from his neck and draped it over a chair before walking into the room. "Hi...Harry...I need to talk to you."
"Yes?" Harry turned, smile in place, before quickly crossing the distance to give Draco a kiss. It's not usual for them, but neither was him preparing food for both to eat. "Maybe it can wait?" he asked suggestively.
The blond shook his head, placing a gentle hand on Harry's chest and pushing him away. "No. It can't wait, I'm sorry." He looked over at the food the other man was preparing and felt bad, truly he did, but he wasn't backing down. "It's about us."
Harry frowned.
This sounded serious.
"Are we fighting again?" He sounded tired.
Draco motioned to the kitchen chairs and sat down on one himself, frowning slightly at the question, but the truth was...they were. "Maybe. It's a big possibility. Listen..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I...We're not working out, I think you know that, deep down?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry's frowned got deeper.
"Our relationship. It's not working. We're not happy, are we?" Draco offered.
"Of course we're happy!"
Harry frowned some more, and the intensity of it focused on Draco would overwhelm others. Harry's not some designated hero for nothing. When he wanted to be, he can be overwhelming in his desire to get his way. And right now, he wanted this non-sense over. Fear made him sound biting.
"Is it my job again? Haven't we been through this already? Draco, if I don't do it, who else would?"
Any other time, any other, and Draco would have been taken aback by it, that intensity, that unwavering certainty, but not now, not anymore. Enough.
"It's not your job, and we are not happy!" He said, looking straight at the other man, deep in his green eyes willing him to understand. "I am not happy, Harry. We are not right for each other. You need someone who can love you the way you deserve. That's not me."
The fear escalated. Looking at Draco, Harry tried to tell himself to calm down. Ron had warned him about this, and he thought he'd done everything to fix it, but it seemed he'd been wrong. Scowling, he shook his head, and sat opposite Draco.
For a while, nothing.
And then, "I don't accept this. You're breaking up with me, aren't you? But I don't accept it."
Draco stared at him, confused, to say the least.
"You don't accept? What do you mean you don't accept? It's not about accepting anything. We're not working, I don't want to continue this."
"I don't accept it!" Harry stood up and grabbed at Draco's hands. Suddenly the explosive anger was gone, and replaced by desperation. "Draco, don't do this. I get it, you're not happy. So tell me how to make it better."
For a second Draco didn't know what to do, so he did nothing but look at his hands clasped in Harry's.
But there were no freckles on them.
He pulled his away.
"I'm sorry...Harry I'm so sorry, but there's nothing you can do, okay? I just...I can't be with you anymore. We're not in love. I don't think we ever were. You like me, sure, but not the real me, just this...idea, that I represent. Think about it, please."
"Of course I like you." Harry doesn't understand. He thought they'd been doing great. He made a grab at Draco's hands again, clutching at them desperately.
Around them, the house felt suddenly too big and too small.
Draco snatched his hands away, probably too harshly, he thought, after he did it, and stood up, his chair screeching on the floor.
"Harry, you're not listening." No one fucking listened to him. It was infuriating.
"No. You like that I'm your boyfriend. You like that of all people I'm the one that's with you because it proves something to you. That people change, that the war wasn't in vain, that it wasn't a mistake..." Draco took a deep breath, chasing away tears that wanted to come out now. Sure, he wanted to do this, but it still hurt. Harry had still been always so important to him. "That you didn't make a mistake saving me."
"I didn't!"
Harry hadn't made a mistake.
Draco was a better person now because of him.
So what the hell was going on?
"Course you didn't. I agree now, but you see? I didn't agree...and I thought I could love you, I thought I did, because you saved me, because you believed in me... but that's not enough is it? You should have someone that loves you for you. And I deserve that too." the blond said a little desperately.
Harry stared, searching for something in Draco's expression. The quick morph of emotions on Harry's on his face were easier to read, and getting even more as he realized Draco wasnt going to change his mind. Hurt, he stood up and lashed out.
"So, that's it? I'm not useful anymore? I'm not needed anymore?"
Harry's got his insecurities, too.
"That's not what I'm saying at all!" Draco's own temper was rising, and it's not the first time it does with Harry, but it has been rare, he's controlled it for the most part. "I'm saying that you shouldn't be with someone just because they are useful. You should be with them because you love them and because of how you can be yourself around them...I can't."
He shook his head, his skin prickling with heat. "I haven't been myself for a while. You wouldn't like the real me. You just like what I've become."
"What the fuck are you talking about, Draco?" Harry asked, a heavy crease of his brow.
Draco let out a frustrated sound. "You like me because I've changed right? Because I'm a better man, and you're not wrong in some things, of course I have. I'm not a stupid purist anymore, but everything else? Yeah. And You like me because every day, you can think about how you've saved me and how you keep saving me, from the press, from being alone, and you like that. Admit it."
He continued. "And I...I wanted to make you happy... because I owed you. I do owe you still...but I can't keep doing this."
Harry reared back. He's insulted.
He doesn't know why Draco was saying this, because this wasn't the case at all. He was with
Draco because he was perfect for Harry.
Because he's what made the most sense if he couldn't be with Ginny.
Everyone had thought it so romantic. The rivals turned lovers. Harry had blushed under their praises. It did fit. The Slytherin and the Gryffindor.
The Chosen One and the Slytherin Prince. And now Draco was saying it was all wrong.
And Draco carried on. He was on a roll. He paced a little, but he was confident in what he was saying. "I need to be happy too, I've realised, despite what I did in the past, despite what people might say, and Ron..."
He shouldn't have mentioned him. Draco wasn't going to, there was no need to do it so soon, no need to involve him, and yet the words had come out.
Maybe it was that selfish part of him showing up, making it so it would be easier to do this, if Harry was angry enough, if it was all out in the open and Ron couldn't deny it.
Still, he paused and looked at Harry.
"Ron?"
Harry's not thick.
He knew, that Draco and Ron were close. He'd been grateful and sometimes even jealous of the closeness. The two seemed to understand each other better at times. But also, he'd thought, with his friend, Draco was always just a little mean. More like that boy they knew back in school.
And he had been grateful for it.
Because it meant Draco was different with him.
He thought it was because Draco loved him.
"What did Ron say?"
"Nothing. He didn't say anything." Draco started, deflating only a little bit. "What I wanted to say is...he gets me. He knows who I am and..." He looked away. Yeah, okay, Draco had been pretty confident up until now, pretty sure of himself, but as he said his next words, he felt afraid.
Bravery wasn't easy, still.
"I'm in love with him."
Harry stilled.
Did he know this, too?
Some part of him he'd silenced came to life, whispered that yes, he did.
He worried about it, didn't he? Even before Draco and him started dating? Hermione had made an offhand joke that wasn't a joke, about keeping Ron and Draco apart. "I'd like to get Ron back when I'm ready, Harry. I don't want or need to worry about Draco refusing to let go." A joke. But she said it when it was just the two of them, Ron and Draco having run off to watch some silly muggle show they both became obsessed with.
And he'd laughed.
And she laughed, too.
That night, he asked Draco on a date.
Kissed him.
The next morning, Ron made a lewd joke, hugged them both, and said Ginny was going to hate Harry forever.
Draco watched him now.
It was too long before he spoke again.
"You're not going to say anything?"
"He'll never choose you over me." Harry said, simply.
Yeah, when Harry really wanted to, he could wound someone. He had, after all, killed Voldemort. He had, after all, used unforgivables, he had confessed that to Draco.
This wasn't a surprise. It was expected. Draco had just told him he was in love with his best friend.
Unfortunately, the blond agreed with him, that was the problem, and after how Ron had run away again, it was practically proof.
"I'm not doing this for him. It doesn't matter if he does or not." He managed to say through the knot in his throat.
"He won't. If I ask him, he won't."
And was that true?
Draco didn't know for sure, and his heart skipped with the realization, a small pang of heartache.
Yet, his brain, working with him, reminded him of a conversation he had with Ron just when he returned from Romania.
"You know, right? Not even Harry can make me like someone, if I don't want to? Harry doesn't control my life like that. I don't ever want you to think you're less than Harry to me."
Maybe...
"And will you? Ask him that?"
Harry flinched. But he's hurting; he has to hurt back. He didn't deserve this, after all. He'd been good to Draco.
"He'll be your friend, Draco. But he won't be with you. I can ask for that much and he'll do it." Because Ron was loyal and good. And Ron loves Harry like a brother. And once, a long time ago, Ron had been ready to give Hermione up, because he thought Harry wanted her. The locket dug that fear, twisted it and made Ron mean, but in the end he came back to be with Harry. He was willing to just be Hermione's friend.
Harry doesn't doubt Ron would do the same now.
Somehow, Draco found himself in Harry's arms.
"Don't you get it? Draco, just stop this. I can make you love me."
"So that's a yes... you'll ask him not to be with me." Draco said just as Harry enveloped him in what was supposed to be a hug.
Harry's words, were a statement of power he possessed over them both, maybe truthful, maybe not, but still uttered.
They told Draco that they would never be equals, and though that was probably fair, that it was probably the way things should be, he wasn't going to take it anymore.
And especially because, though Harry was saying he could make Draco do something, though he was saying he could punish him, he was also putting Ron in the same situation.
That made Draco angry again so he pushed him away, hard now.
"No!" He glared. "You can't and you won't, Harry. And if you do manage to make Ron do what you say, that's fine. I will be his friend, but look at what you are saying...that you'd stop him from being happy if he wanted me? You'd control him like that?"
Shamed, Harry blinked back the tears.
He hated this, the hopeless feeling that came, upon hearing Draco's words. Harry felt again that special curious anguish caused by glimpses of a happiness he would have if only things were different — which could be different, perhaps could easily be different — but somehow maddeningly were not. He doesn't think about it often, but Ron and him were always after what the other had. It balanced them, Harry had thought. And then Ron changed their dynamic, by stepping out of his shadow and finding his own light. Harry didn't resent it because it had always been Ron's, but he'd felt some betrayal of the fact. And now, here was Draco saying he chose Ron, too.
He called a wordless spell and swept the food off the counter.
If Ron wasn't part of his life...
Would it change? Would people want to be with him more without Ron encouraging people to do so?
As if he could dare that?
No, thought Harry. Some things he won't give up. Ron was his.
Draco lost his chance to make Ron loyal to him the way he did with Harry. Harry won't be shamed of that.
These were the prices they paid.
The consequences of their actions.
Harry would lose people. But Ron will always remain. And so long as Ron's by his side, Draco will be, too. He can work with that.
It's like this: Hermione and Ron. Draco and Harry.
"I think... we need to sleep now."
"No. I'm leaving. Do you understand that Harry? I'm going." Draco said, and he was a little dazed at Harry's answer, at the way he was taking things.
The blond hadn't thought Harry would fight it this much, had assumed that he had noticed something was amiss between them ages ago, but it seemed he had not. It seemed everything had been completely fine for Harry and that he was completely under the illusion that they were supposed to be together.
How could he not see they both deserved more?
Draco had also made the decision then to leave. He couldn't stay in Grimmauld anymore. Ron was obviously running and if he stayed Harry would just keep trying to fix something unfixable.
That was his thing after all, to keep fighting, to make things work.
It wasn't Draco's. He was quick to leave an unfavorable situation. He was quick to try to make himself happy, to not torture himself more than necessary.
He remembered that now, if only he would have done it 6 months ago when it all started.
Going back to the manor was a last resort, but his mother would be overjoyed to have him there.
"It's over. Really. I'm sorry if it's a disappointment, but that's it." He said, finally, lips tight as he stepped towards the door.
Harry couldn't wait.
Sitting down, he felt himself start to cry and called Draco to come back. Begging him to not leave. Begging him to love him.
Draco's voice faltered "I...I'm sorry. I can't."
When he went out the kitchen door his feet were heavy, his mind numb. He had made Harry Potter cry, he had hurt him, the man who had saved his life, who had given him a new friend group, who had kept the worst of people at bay.
He told himself to be strong, to not go back, even as the tears streamed down his face, because he knew that for all his bravado that day, he'd still be weak to his own insecurities. He might stay and confort him. He might stay and sleep there and in the morning Harry might think all is okay again.
Draco just can't let that happen. For himself. For Ron.
And for Harry, who needed a person to love him, for who he was, for how hard he worked, for his bravery.
So Draco went to the floo, and he took it to the manor.
Bright lights and revelations
Draco entered the dimly lit club, the music just a little too loud, the smell of alcohol in the air just a little too nauseating. It was perfect, just the thing he needed to forget last night's events. Seamus' timing couldn't have been more perfect, his earlier owl inviting him out because he had heard he was down in the dumps, sent from heaven.
When he had arrived at the manor last night, his mother had been very accommodating of course, very understanding, and even a little happy to see him back home. She had also been sufficiently irritating, asking too many questions, most of them about what Draco was going to do about Ron.
Nothing. He'd do nothing. Clearly the redhead didn't want to do this, not really, not after he had run away. There was also that heavy cloud around the both of them, that possibility that Harry would try to wrestle them away from each other.
So no, Draco wasn't going to owl Ron, or floo him or anything of the sort, no matter how many times his mother had hinted to it.
Instead, he had, very elegantly and not at all pathetically, cried in bed.
Then, when morning came, after lunch, the owl had arrived, and Draco had felt emboldened by the fact that Seamus, who didn't really have to, had asked him out and not Harry, and had decided to enjoy himself.
Which was why he was now at the club.
He looked for Seamus in the crowd, finding him nowhere, and then decided that most likely he'd been in one of the corner booths with Dean so he made his way there and as soon as he was near and caught sight of them, he froze.
Seamus was going to fucking die today.
As soon as Dean looked away, Draco was going to strangle the irish man because there, sitting next to them, was Ron, and the blond just knew, right away, this was planned.
"Seamus, Dean…" He said, nodding at them, and then, doing his best-unbothered face, his voice betraying him with how wobbly it came out, greeted Ron as well.
"Ronald. I didn't know you'd be here." And he glared at Seamus, eyes shooting daggers at him, but the cheeky bastard just smirked.
"Thought you'd enjoy a night with the boys after the whole fiasco. Heard about it from Dean here, who heard it from Ginny, who heard it from Charlie." Seamus said, earning himself a roll of the eyes from Dean.
How on earth it had been Charlie to first tell everyone that him and Harry were broken up though, Draco had no clue.
Fucking Weasleys.
-
Ron looked at Draco, then at Seamus. Without saying anything else, he smacked Seamus on the
back of the head.
Dean smiled at Draco. "Ron's drunk. It's good."
Seamus scowled. "He almost dry humped you earlier, you bastard. Of course you would say it's good."
Then Seamus grabbed Draco's wrist and pulled him to sit next to him, so that Ron and Draco bookended the pair. Seamus informed Draco the redhead was right pervy when knackered and he had to make sure Dean wasn't going to stray due to temptations, didn't he? So he had to call in an insurance, and it did help they were friends and of course it was to distract Draco about him and Harry breaking up.
"They didn't break up," Ron cut in, his tone cross. Dean rolled his eyes and edged away from his long-time friend, because Ron's subsequent visits on the dance floor had him increasingly covered in glitter. Dean reckoned the git had about forty pounds of the stuff on him. Dean wasn't into that.
"I told them, you and Harry, it's been right there from the start." And when Ron looked at Draco after saying that, he had an accusatory look in his eyes, like that was Draco's fault all along. Like he made it inevitable: Harry and Draco. Draco and Harry. Then he grinned wide, grabbed a bottle of beer and drank deep.
-
Draco's lips curled into a sneer, just like those he used to have, cutting and mean, because right now, he wanted nothing more than to hurt Ron.
He wanted to kiss him too, of course, and much more, but also to tear him apart limb from limb. How dare he, answer things for him?
"Oh you know what's happened better than me do you? It's amazing how everyone thinks they can tell me what I can and can't do recently." He said, leaning forward, hands curled into fists and clutching the hem of his shirt.
"I did break up with him, Ronald, and you can pretend like it hasn't happened all you want, to what? Protect yourself? But it doesn't make it less true." He added before standing up. "Left Grimmauld by the way, but you obviously are gonna deny that too?"
Draco groaned and looked at Seamus and Dean instead. "Gonna get a drink for myself at the bar. I think I need to be knackered too if I'm going to survive this and not make you a widower, Dean." He shook his head, glared at Ron once again and turned on his heels towards the bar.
-
Now it's Ron's turn to get a whack on the head, courtesy of Dean.
"Idiot."
"Yeah, yeah."
Seamus watched Draco weaving towards the bar. "It's okay to let him go alone like that?"
"He says he's a free agent, isn't he?"
The couple looked at each other meaningfully but said nothing. After all, drunk Ron was a pervy
fuck, but Ron, in general, was just a jealous sort of guy all around.
Waiting for the blond to return, Dean and Seamus bopped their heads to the dance music playing over the sound system. Ron drank the last of his drink and announced he was going to dance. Staggering to his feet, he pushed into the crowd eager to let him in. The redhead had brought some mindless fun in his last foray there, and a few were eager for their turn.
Seamus looked back and forth at where Draco and Ron were and snickered. "Who do you think will break first?"
That's the thing. From experience, at least up until the war in Hogwarts, it would be Draco who would try to get his point across first. But Ron's more assertive now, Seamus argued; even in denial, the redhead might surprise them.
"You think Ginny's right about those two hot for each other?" Dean was clearing their table, making room for more drinks
"Oh, yeah." He focused on Draco, calling him over with wild gestures of his hand. "Draco's getting hit on."
"Fun."
On the dance floor, Ron had a half-cocked smile as he leaned away from another boy's embrace, yet kept their groins pressed distressingly close together as he swiveled his hips.
-
Draco asked for a cocktail that was way too expensive and way too colorful and could only taste terribly sweet, but he didn't care, not even when the bartender gave him a judgy look. He would treat himself tonight.
It became especially true when he spotted Ron in the crowd, and had to focus not to drop his drink, or toss it at the floor. That asshole was dancing with another guy, his movements obscene enough to make Draco want to hex them both.
Not that he had any right, he knew that, there was nothing between them, and as he drank some more, eyes glued to the horrifying scene on the dance floor, he started to think nothing was going to be.
There were two powerful things at work here after all: Ron's loyalty to Harry, and Harry's possible demand to keep them apart.
Had he already gotten to him? Was that why Ron had denied that the break up had happened, because Harry had as well?
Draco huffed, his grip tight on his glass, now empty.
But not for long, because quickly, another similar drink was bought and paid for by a dark-haired man with blue eyes.
"Hi, I'm Jared." The guy said, and his smile was rather dazzling, but through Draco recognized how handsome the guy actually was, there was no denying his thoughts were elsewhere.
"Draco." He said, offering his hand for the man, Jared, to shake. He did, and let it linger just a little too long to be innocent. "You here alone?"
Draco glanced towards Ron, an automatic response, but as he was assaulted again by the vision of him and another man, he turned his attention back to Jared. "Yes, and I just broke up with my boyfriend, isn't that just perfect, for you?" He said with a smirk.
Jared grinned, all teeth, perfectly white, perfectly annoying Draco already. "Come dance with me?"
The blond agreed, took a large sip of his drink, and was practically dragged to the dance floor.
In the distance, Dean gave Seamus a worried look and whispered something in his ear that made him frown hard.
-
Draco and his new partner barely had time to do any actual dancing when Seamus crowded against them, surging forward and nearly tripping in his haste to become part of their dance group. Dean followed a few seconds later, a frowning Ron in tow.
Ron glanced at Jared, turned around and started to dance with no one in particular. Seamus wanted to step on the redhead's foot.
Dean smiled tightly at Jared. Then turning to Draco, asked belatedly, "We're joining in. You don't mind, right?"
-
Draco had no idea what Seamus and Dean were trying to do, but they were all now in a sort of makeshift dancing circle with the newcomer, Jared, being pushed away from him. The man frowned and looked intensely at the blond, but was unable to move any closer with the way the couple was sandwiching him away.
Of course, it became apparent very quickly what the two boys were doing and Draco glared at him, though he was quietly impressed by the sneakiness of it, so accompanying said glare was a small quirk of the lips.
Seamus glanced at Jared and nodded, deciding he liked what he saw. He could work with this. He gave one more look of lusty appreciation when Dean grabbed a fist-full of his shirt, then thrust his hips against him—Finnigan was quick to reciprocate. Ron still had their back to them, and he reached up and combed his fingers through his red hair. Seamus grabbed at the back of his shirt and pulled him backwards, so that Ron, in momentary confusion, stumbled and fell into Draco's space.
Draco thought that had to have been a one hundred percent calculated move. The blond's blue drink spilled on Ron's shirt.
"Shit." He said and since he was unable to pull his wand out in a muggle place like this, he couldn't exactly clean it.
Also, Ron deserved it right? Let him have a stained shirt as a reminder of how he had thrown Draco away!
Dramatic? Maybe? Untrue? He wasn't sure.
"You should probably go wash that." He said, leaning towards Ron so his voice could be heard over the loud music. It meant being a little too close to his ear, but it couldn't be avoided.
"It's going to stain and what will your dancing partners think of that? Such an unkempt look… can't have that." Draco added, his voice dripping with disdain for said men and women who dared come close. "No need to go alone tonight with so many willing partners."
-
Ron turned his upper body to be able to look at Draco.
"Is that right?" he asked, staring at Draco for a beat. "Well, fuck it."
And then he whipped his shirt off, much to everyone's delight. Seamus included.
Drunk Ron was a fun Ron.
Dean started laughing. He couldn't help it; it made him slightly nervous when Ron was like this and it's easier to laugh than worry. It got lost sometimes, the fact his brothers were the twins and Percy, and that Ginny was his sister: People who do crazy things (yes, Percy included) when they were in the mood for it. Ron was cut from the same cloth, and when he's in the mood to throw propriety out of the window, he commits.
Ron swung his shirt around. Gyrating, he turned to Draco completely, hitting his chest with both hands when he was face to face. Ron felt a familiar heat prickle in his cheeks, and the back of his neck, the kind that reminded him of lazy afternoons on the couch with the blond nitpicking some show, or walking side by side him, their hands grazing each other with each swing.
"Holy shit," Seamus exclaimed. "What the hell is that? It's wicked, Ron"
Thankfully he hadn't touched Draco. The drunk git forgot about the charm on his dragon.
The strobe light hit Ron's face just right and made blue eyes seem too intense. But there's no challenge in his expression. Instead. he's grinning, a carefree boyish smile that reminded his friends of how he was after a Quidditch win. Just a boy being a boy.
"You gonna forget about me with pretty boy over there?" he asked Draco.
-
Draco had seen Ron without his shirt on countless times. They lived together for a while and they were very close so it happened more often than not. It was different seeing him take it off there though, under the bright colorful lights, especially when they interacted so well with his eyes and with the little peek of dragon scales he could spot on Ron's ribs.
Yeah, Jared was hot, no doubt, and definitely willing and easier than Ron was, but Draco could never want anyone the same way he wanted the redhead.
It should have scared him, that realization, but it didn't. It was simply a natural conclusion.
"Depends. are you going to go forget about me with someone else too?" He asked, his grey eyes intense as he reached out and touched Ron's forearm.
"Woah!" Seamus said, with wide eyes as the dragon came to life and Draco smirked, he had done it on purpose after all. Maybe Ron would go and forget about him, maybe he would go and do whatever Harry said.
But he couldn't deny this.
"You running away already?"
-
"Oh, shit," Dean muttered, more focused on the display of magic taking place. Grabbing at Ron's shirt, he forced the redhead to put it on. Behind him, Jared smirked. Seamus wondered if a threesome can be had, especially since he knew Ron wasn't the type to ever share.
Does Dean? wondered Seamus.
As for Ron, he's smirking, too.
Looking down at Draco, just half heartedly listening and following instructions to lift his arms. When his shirt was back on -- and Dean ready to hex both his friends when the opportunity presented itself, and maybe his boyfriend, too -- Ron got even closer in Draco's space.
But before he could say anything, Jared pushed Dean aside. After all, he'd figured out who the blond was as soon as he said his name, but hadn't been completely sure. That tattoo though cemented it; he was that Draco.
"A bit crowded here," the man said, trying to draw Draco's attention back to him. "Do you want to go someplace more private?"
"Get rid of him," Ron murmured, bowing his head closer to whisper this to the blond's ear. Then he gave a come hither, half-smile. Then Ron curled his other arm around Dean's neck, waving his shoulders slowly from side to side. Ron maintained eye contact.
-
Draco didn't even look at Jared.
There was no acknowledgment that the man had come closer, Draco did not around, his eyes glued to Ron's.
"I'm not interested, after all." He said, still not looking at the guy, but Draco's voice was loud enough, his posture clear enough to show he was done with him. There was something about the blond that had always been there, the way his head tilted, the movement of an arm. He could tell you, easily, if he wanted to, that you were nothing to him.
It had broken many friendships for him, angered people, especially death eaters in the past who thought they could gain his favor before his father lost his power.
Now, it angered Jared, and glaring hard he tried to grab Draco's shoulder to turn him around and towards him.
Instantly, the blond whirled around and his fist connected with Jared's face, who was caught by surprise and stumbled backward, tripping on Seamus' foot…completely by accident of course.
"What the fuck?" He yelled from the floor, his nose bleeding.
"Do not touch me." Draco answered, his face stone cold, before he turned back to Ron, and completely ignored Jared again.
"Well fuck you, Malfoy, who do you think…"
"Mate…" Seamus said, shaking his head and putting himself between Jared and the others "Let it
go. You really wanna mess with a Malfoy and a Weasley? Former Death Eater and a former Auror? Leave." Well, that threesome was ruined, but Seamus was sure he'd be able to convince Dean one day.
Jared glared at everyone and walked off, certainly to go clean off the blood still dripping from his nose.
Draco took a step forward toward Ron, challenging, his knuckles sore. "Good enough for you?"
-
Dean groaned at what's happened, at what was happening. Harry was his friend, too. To say nothing about his loyalty to Hermione. He glared at Seamus, but Seamus was motioning to their friends and mouthing 'hot'. How the hell was he in love with this guy, he sometimes wondered. He reluctantly looked. And right, fine, it was hot.
Ron had taken Draco's hand and directed it so that now he had his arm around Ron's waist. The redhead, in turn, had his leg between Draco's thighs as he swiveled his hips. Their lips were tantalizingly close. "Third time," he told Draco, just loud enough for the blond to hear.
A bit of warning there.
The thing was, Ron's tired of being responsible. Of being good. There's only so much that can be done about resisting temptation. He feels flayed open, a pain so deep in his chest, he's not sure he can ever get it out. If Draco wants him, Harry's shit out of luck.
(maybe it will be different when he's sober?)
(but also, maybe not)
There's no room for doubt now that Ron's made his choice. Now that Harry knows. There's only Ron, half-laughing, leaning closer. There's only him burying his hands in the fabric of Draco's shirt before he reached under them to feel the soft, warm skin, so pale and precious to him.
They kiss. Finally.
Ron broke it off as soon as their lips touch, momentarily stunned he was finally doing it. That he was kissing Draco. Then Ron pressed forward again, and it's a lot less softDraco exhaled at the words, at the touch, at how Ron pulled his arm to wrap around him.
-
This was it, he knew that too, the redhead had made his decision, and somehow Draco knew, when their lips touched, when their magic singed, that there was nothing Harry could say that would change Ron's mind.
Draco's hand moved to cup the back of the redhead's neck, his thumb rubbing at the beautifully freckled skin there as his mouth took what he had wanted for so long. It wasn't just a kiss, it was a victory, it mattered.
It meant that Draco could have things that he wanted too, not just do what was expected. It meant that though he owed Harry his life, he could still have one apart from him.
It meant Ron loved him back. Those words that had been uttered between them so many times before, now sealed.
There was no one else in that club anymore either, the noises dying down to make way for the sound of their breathing and of their hearts beating. Draco was sure he could hear his own at least, like a drum in his ear.
When they pulled back, grey eyes meeting blue, he chuckled softly, hand grasping the fabric of Ron's shirt tightly. "They do say third time's the charm." Draco said before leaning his head up and pressing a couple of kisses along Ron's jaw. "Take me out of here?", less gentle.
-
"Yes, dear," he replied fondly.
He took a step back, and then grabbed Draco's hand, ready to pull him along, when Dean barred the way. "Yeah, no," the man said. "Seamus, handle our tab. I'm taking these two out of the club, where the fucking pheromones aren't so fucking thick only their dicks are thinking for them."
"Boo!"
"Seamus, I swear to fucking God--,"
"Get out of the way, Dean."
Dean abruptly stopped berating his boyfriend to fix Ron with a stare. "You'll do this for Harry and Hermione, Ron. You'll both do this because you're one of the good ones."
Did Draco feel it? When Ron's touched iced at the mention of those two names? But also, he didn't let go of his grip of Draco's hand. If anything, it tightened, refusing to let go. The redhead frowned at Dean.
Dean put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Mate, it's fine. I'm not saying you can't, just saying not tonight. Ron's drunk, Draco. You want him sober for this. And you, you want to not feel guilty after.
-
Draco would have said that he had already explained everything to Harry, that he had nothing else to say. They had spoken and Harry had said what he wanted to say, expressed what he'd do, how he wouldn't let go, and Draco was ready to just stay away from him and jump into it with Ron. He knew it was wrong, sure, but he wanted it so much.
What stopped him was Ron's hand, the small movement, the tightening of his grip and when Draco looked at Dean he nodded softly.
Maybe he didn't owe this to Harry anymore, but he owed it to Ron.
"Yeah, alright…" He said with a sigh and interlocked his fingers with Ron's before looking up at him. "As much as it pains me, he's right. Lets go somewhere anyway, but not home." To a bed, his brain supplied.
Merlin, how he wished that that was happening anyway.
Dean smiled, satisfied with the outcome and gestured for Seamus to follow them before pulling both Draco and Ron along, towards the exit.
"I know a nice place we can spend the rest of the night, come on."
-
Ron grimaced. He wasn't happy, and it showed in the pout on his lips.
"Fine," he grumbled. He drew Draco to him so he was embracing the man, one arm possessively curled on his waist. "Fucking make it public, because I'm not making any promises."
Dean grimaced, too. He can just imagine what Ron meant. After all, his friend had not been shy about his going-ons with Lavender back in Hogwarts. If Draco was the sort to feel embarrassed about public display of affection in alarming degree and frequency, well, he wished the blond luck.
-
They ended at the docks, and the chilly air was a good way to sober Ron up. Seamus made a run at a coffee shop, so the four of them had something warm to drink. Ron had not stop kissing Draco, but at least any dry humping and dick fondling had been halted in favor of a cold nose buried in the crook of Draco's neck; in favor of deep inhales of Draco's scent and sleepy murmurs how he'd always loved how the blond smelled.
How he loves him.
Seamus shook his head and laughed. Who would have thought this was where these two would end up? It was hard enough to imagine Harry and Draco before, but Draco and Ron?
But that's the thing: It was easy to imagine it. Especially now. Ron grinned sweetly at Draco, blissfully happy, his arms around the blond as he pulled Draco in his seated embrace. Watching the sunrise, Ron recounts all the little meetings they ever had in school, and the could have beens. Dean almost felt embarrassed by the whole thing; being a voyeur in this what ifs of Ron. It's endearing and personal and the boy was just so happy.
-
Draco, for his part, couldn't remember being this happy at any point in his life before. Not even when he spent childhood summers with his parents, not even when the sorting hat put him in Slytherin, and not even when he was free of Azkaban and later accepted by those he had wronged in the past.
Everything seemed to pale in comparison to Ron nuzzling his neck, telling him how much he loved him. Nothing was like trying to think of ways they might have worked before if either of them had been different or if the wizarding world had been peaceful.
Draco leaned his head on Ron's shoulder, his eyes closed most of the time, listening, his fingers wrapped around the other man's as he spoke. There had been a time when he was young and he hadn't understood that Ron was interesting, that the way he spoke and made you the center of his attention was undeniably powerful.
The blond had never thought that they were similar, the two of them, in fact, when he had first started to fall for Ron, Draco had thought that it was true that opposites attract.
But that wasn't the case, and good relationships aren't made of opposites as people thing, not entirely. Being two sides of the same coin, is not an opposite, you are still the same coin, looking in opposite directions.
That was why it was so easy now, to lose himself in Ron's embrace, and for others, like Dean and Seamus to smile at them knowingly, and not question at all why or how they worked together.
The sun was rising already when the four men decided it was time to go home, but Draco and Ron were only allowed to leave once they promised they'd both go to their respective homes for now, to give everyone some time to process.
Draco groaned loudly, obviously displeased but he got it. He did. He was just scared of what could happen if he let Ron go at any point. "I'll go back to the manor. Mother is probably worried anyway. Ron, owl me later? Lets have a late lunch, once we sleep this off." He asked, smiling a little before reaching up and letting his lips brush the redhead's.
-
The new boyfriend wasn't happy. Smarting at the fact Dean had extracted -- or, really, tried. Ron never really agreed to anything? -- such a lame promise, he wasn't that keen to come home. Besides, that meant seeing Harry.
Being with Draco was just so much more enjoyable.
"Breakfast?" he asked hopefully. Dean and Seamus were already away, Ron having pulled back and taking Draco with him. Hell, maybe they can even eat at the Manor. He doesn't think Cissy would mind. And if Draco didn't want to tell him mum yet, Ron's fine with keeping it a secret for a bit. Not too long, hopefully. Cissy liked him. Maybe not as her son's amore, but, well, Ron will win her over with that, too.
-
Draco chuckled, reaching up to let his hand gently caress the side of Ron's neck. "I just thought you might want to sleep, after you drank so much, but if you'd like, you can come with me to the manor for breakfast."
And Dean couldn't object to that, because Draco's mother would be there, everything would be appropriate. "Mother will be glad to see you I'm sure, she kept asking about you yesterday. I think she's invested in her student." And she was. Narcissa was a much bigger advocate for Ron than she had been for Harry, even when Draco had tried to get her to like the latter, she had just never managed.
She owed him too much perhaps, and she surely didn't deal with that the same way Draco had done.
"But then we need sleep." He continued. "I want to be well rested for…whatever comes next." Draco added, his smile twisting into a smirk.
-
He laughed and kissed Draco after the mention of the manor, or how Cissy liked him. But then...
Ron groaned at the last part, bit his lower lip and made a sound in his throat, his overwhelming thrill at what Draco meant and the feeling at finding Draco right now so fucking cute he could kill needing to be sounded out. He even grabbed at Draco's upper arms and squeezed hard as he did, before taking a step back, reluctantly letting go and closing his eyes.
He took a deep breath.
When he opened his eyes, he gave Draco a sardonic look. Gave him a wry grin.
"I can't sleep. I'm... hopped up. Don't you get it? I don't want -- I can't sleep." And he laughed.
Laughed and rushed back to Draco, to hold him, to give him a heady kiss.
First he put his hands on ether side of Draco's face, and as the kiss deepened, Ron moved his right hand to the side of his beloved's neck, then down his shoulder, down his arm. He cannot stop touching. He cannot stop kissing. This man was his and he's loved him for what felt like forever; he loves everything about him, -- how he moves, how he laughs, how he bitches at some random pedestrian for some silly slight -- and he wanted Draco to understand, to know it and it's the two of them from here on, for everything. It was easy, unforced.
"Fuck," Ron whispered as the kiss finally ended, because he needed to breathe. Both of them did. But his lips were still too close, still connected by a span of a whisper.
"I love you." He loves him -- what more is there to say? Should he tell Draco about the clawing feeling in his chest, in his throat that made it harder to breathe, but so welcomed, for Ron knew why it was there, who was causing it? He never thought he was ever going to be allowed to admit to it. He thought he had to give him up.
I love you, he said. He said it over and over and over again.
The sunrise was now complete, the sky was blue, and the sea shimmered.
-
Draco too couldn't get enough. His whole body ws aching. the last few hours had been lovely, but they had also been complete torture because all he wanted was to have the other man take him. He wanted to be his, completely, he wanted to be devoured and for nothing to be left. It was a weird thing to say but the desperation was real, and the fact that he had managed to control himself, was nothing short of remarkable.
It was only really done because of the knowledge that he wanted Ron to be completely at peace with his decision, that he needed to speak to Harry. That it all needed closure.
But Merlin, was it difficult, with the way Ron touched him, kissed him, enveloped him in his embrace.
"I love you too." Draco said letting his lips touch Ron's again, letting himself have a taste of what he had wanted for so long, even before anything with Harry had happened. He should have realized back then, when they escaped together to watch silly TV shows, when the unlikely attachment began, when Ron forgave him but still teased him about the past. He should have known.
"Lets go. I'll apparate us to the manor. We can eat and then…"He trailed off, a promise in the unspoken words.
Draco's hand reached up for Ron's cheek, caressing it gently, his fingers trembling, with the weight of all the emotions he was feeling. It was terrifying. "I'm not letting you go. You understand? I don't care, I'm not."
He needed me
Draco apparated them both right to the front step of the Manor, the wards accepting both men in without any trouble. They didn't even hiss at Ron, which was proof that he had been there many times before, to visit Narcissa. "I wonder if mother is already awake." Draco said as he opened the door and an elf immediately apparated in front of then.
The elf took one look at them and grinned. "Oh Master Draco, master Weasley, please do come in Mrs. Malfoy is in the parlour."
"Your mum is awake this early?" Ron whispered. "You purebloods are ruining my idea of the lazy life I always thought you guys have."
He sounded disappointed.
Draco chuckled "She's a very early riser, always has been. Strict household growing up you know?" He shrugged and took Ron's hand interlacing their fingers as he pulled him along towards the parlour.
Narcissa looked up from her tea when they entered, her eyes lingering for only a second on their hands, but it was enough for her lips to quirk in a tiny little smile. "Well, is this an appropriate hour to arrive home, Draco?"
"Uhm...I am sorry mother, time got away from me."
"I was hoping she'd be asleep," Ron whispered. Then he winked at Cissy.
"I taught you how to greet a Lady of a House properly, Ronald."
"Too early for that, babe." He strode forward, taking Draco with him, and leaned down to kiss Cissy's cheek. "How the devil do you look this good this early?"
The blond made an outraged sound at what Ron called his mother, but followed suit and kissed his mother's other cheek.
"Considerable talent. One that seems my son is lacking today." She answered and then gave her son a long look, taking in his dishevelled hair and his less than tidy clothes. He looked down at himself and felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "We were...out, mother, I have not had the chance. I'll shower in a bit." Draco narrowed his eyes. "YOu haven't complained about how he looks."
"Of course not, Draco. Ronald is not a Malfoy yet."
Draco's eyes went wide. "Mother!"
"Wipsy please get some tarts and toast for our guests." She said to the elf.
Once seated, Ron did his best to not fidget and be sheepish, though he nudged at Draco with his foot and not so subtly looked towards Narcissa. He had a question in his eyes. "Sorry about the glitter." Taking out his wand, he spelled them out off him, and then realized Draco's neck was decked with it where he'd had the most contact with Ron's face.
Narcissa raised a perfectly styled eyebrow as Ron winked the glitter out of existence and took a sip of her tea.
Draco sighed loudly and took a small bite of buttered toast, earning himself another disagreeable look from his mother. He felt petulant though, like he could do anything. Not that he was going to actually sass his mother, but, he could afford to be a little unkempt.
"Mother, I believe you have already guessed but Ron and I, well...We have made up." He said.
"Is that all?" She asked, her eyes glued, not on Draco, but the redhead.
Ron coughed.
Helplessly, he looked at Draco, unsure how to proceed.
After all, the way Ginny seemed to be going about it, it wouldn't surprise him if she got the story published on today's papers.
"Well, maybe more than just made up?"
Narcissa nodded and gracefully stood up from her chair. "Well, boys I will take my leave. I have some errands to run." Narcissa said and Draco frowned at this. No way she did, usually the elfs would just do any errands for her. She did leave the room though, but not before shooting him a small smile. THe blond was pleased.
When he turned back to Ron, he sipped his tea before speaking. "Shower?"
Ron grinned.
"I thought you said we can't do anything first before I talk to Harry."
"I didn't say we'd do it together, did I? You just assumed. Naughty." Draco said, cheekily. "I do feel disgusting. A shower is needed." He added and reached under the table with his foot to tap Ron's.
He was about to elaborate when there was a sudden burst of light and a great white stag burst to life into the room.
Draco's heart dropped.
"Fucking Harry." Ron groaned. But he had a fond tone to his voice. "Doesn't think, I swear. What if I'd have been outside, where muggles were around?"
Before Draco could answer, the stag spoke, and all fondness on Ron's face was replaced with a grimness that didn't suit him. The stag called out to Ron, the voice breaking. Then it asked to meet.
Patronuses have no expressions. But Ron thought he saw a sadness in the apparitions' eyes before it winked out of existence.
"Fuck."
Draco stared at the spot the stag had been just a second ago, and just kept his eyes there.
"Yeah... I suppose you have to." He had been saying Ron needed to speak to Harry, had agreed with Dean, but now that the time had come there was still that nagging feeling, telling him, what if?
"Ron..." His own voice broke too. "He said he was going to..." He sighed and looked away not wanting Ron to see his face. "You better go and see what he wants."
Ron smiled weakly at him. "I have to let him hit me at least once, right? You think that's enough?"
"I...yeah. Just..."Draco looked finally back at Ron, but the words died in his throat. He wanted to ask him to come back, to not let Harry tell him what to do, but he realized too he had to trust him. And if for any reason it went badly, well...then Draco would know where he really stood. "I will see you later."
Ron paused from the joke he was about to say, frowning at how Draco was acting. Without another word, he got out of his chair and kneeled before the blond.
"You know, right? This is your last chance if you want everything to stay the way it was. I'll accept it. Might need to go for a while, but if you think maybe you should be with Harry..." Ron touched Draco's face. "Because otherwise, I'm not giving you up. I'm not giving him up, either, but you're going to have to keep me around now. And pissing me off won't be an option when you regret everything later, because unlike Harry, I can sort of be a petty knob."
He'd rally everyone against Draco.
Against Harry.
He knows this about himself.
Draco's eyes went a little wide at Ron's words and he shook his head vehemently before wrapping his arms around Ron's neck and pulling him in close.
"That's not why... I'm afraid you'll be the one to regret it, that he'll speak to you and you'll do what he asks you to do, because he's your best friend. He's Harry." He said, almost a whisper. He hated how weak he sounded, but this? This was important. This he could not lose.
"I want you Ron. I'm not changing my mind."
"Good. I want you, too." He pulled back so he could look at Draco, staring at his eyes so the blond can see the truth in his. "He's going to forgive us. Noone's more selfless. But if he's going to be selfish about this--," Ron broke off. He doesn't like to think of that possibility, but if it happened? "I'll be selfish, too."
It might be mean, to take this away from The Boy Who Lived.
But Ron deserved his own life to live.
Draco nodded. All he could do now was believe Ron. Trust him.
It wasn't that hard.
"Okay. I'll be waiting."
-
- "Harry? Mate?"
Did he have a right to call him that? The house was eerily silent, and Ron wondered at the wisdom of not drawing his wand. He owled Neville to come an hour later, just in case. It should have been Hermione, but considering everything, Ron figured best not to go there yet. He could handle Harry. He's not entirely sure he could handle Mione.
"Harry?"
Harry had been mulling about what he was going to say to Ron, for about two hours. He hadn't been able to sleep well last night which, after a hard day at work, meant that his body was aching along with his mind.
He still wasn't sure exactly what had happened with Draco. What had gone wrong. In his mind, he hadn't done anything to drive him away and he had in fact been trying hard to be there for him the last weeks.
He couldn't accept it. He had to fight for it, couldn't give this up so easily when he had managed to keep a relationship going with Draco which everyone was so sure would fail. He needed him back, and the only person who could help, was Ron.
"I'm in here, the living room."
"So you are. You look like shit."
"Thanks..." Harry said, shaking his head. "I think considering I haven't had any sleep and what happened, I look well enough..." Harry looked Ron over and frowned "You don't exactly look like a million galleons either. Been out all night?"
"Yeah. Yeah, with Dean and Seamus." Ron cleared his throat. "And Draco."
Rip it off like a bandage.
"You've been with Draco." Harry stated and he looked at Ron with a look that wasn't hostile, but it wasn't friendly either, not entirely. This was already not starting like he wanted it to. "Well he's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. How is he?"
Ron couldn't answer.
Instead, he stood awkwardly, willing Harry to get it. So he didn't have to say the words.
"Did you know we broke up?" The dark haired man asked.
"Ginny told Seamus."
Harry would ask how Ginny knew, but it was obvious. After it had happened he had floo called Charlie. They were really good friends since last Christmas and the guy always knew how to cheer Harry up. Evidently, he also knew how to tell on him to his ex girlfriend. They'd be having words.
"I see... and instead of coming here to see how I was, you went out with him?"
"Why?"
Ron scowled. "I went out with Seamus and Dean. I didn't know he was coming."
Which was a moot point, but he thought he should still clear that issue up.
He tried, didn't he? To remind Draco he and Harry were just having a bit of a tiff? Not his bloody fault he was drunk and tired of lying to himself. Besides, Draco was going to get fucked good last night, so it might as well be him doing the fucking. Sure, it made him a bad friend, and just an overall shitty person, but he was drunk. Ignoring the fact he wasn't drunk now and Draco didn't get his butthole creamed was just something they both have to live with.
There was an attempt for Draco to see reason.
He should get some points for that.
"Hmm." Harry said, not really accepting it, but not denying it either. The fact was he knew that there was something going on with Draco and Ron, the former had told him that after all, but now he needed to know if Ron felt the same for sure. What he did next would be determined by that.
"Ron... I need to get him back. You understand?" Harry started, deciding to just go for it, head on, and see how Ron reacted to it. What side he'd take. What approach. "Him and I, we were good together. It worked. It can't just be thrown away. You get that."
"It was all building up for years, him and me. All those looks at school, all the chasing... It meant something."
"Yeah, I don't think his boyfriend's going to agree." Ron interjected.
"What?" Harry frowned hard at Ron, his posture immediately tensing up. That was just the way his body reacted now to anything that might upset him, and he had a feeling whatever his friend was saying now, would. "Ron...Tell me you don't mean what I think you do?"
It couldn't be.
Ron wouldn't do that to him.
Ron was his mate, his ride or die, the Watson to his Sherlock.
Ron winced.
For a while, both of them stayed quiet, waiting each other out. Then the redhead spoke again. "You weren't the only one. In school? I actually think he was a bigger dick to me. So if that's how you're going to go about this, I'm owed more."
"Excuse me?" Harry's hands had turned to fists by his side, though he hadn't even noticed. His temper was flaring. It was true he had learned some control with the aurors, but he was still himself in the end.
"You're owed more? What the fuck are you talking about? If we're talking about being owed anything I think...Ron I think I have you beat there by a fucking mile." Even as he said it, Harry felt bad about it. He didn't want to say it that way, like what he had done was something people owed him for. He hated it.
But.
If it made Draco come back... If it made Ron understand...
"Listen." He took a deep breath, trying to relax. In and out. "He just needs to see he was good with me, and that he's better off coming back, because..." Harry paused, looking at Ron defiantly. "What he said he wanted, isn't happening. Is it Ron? You're not going to actually date my ex? A friend, a best friend, wouldn't do that."
"Harry..."
Ron came closer, and sat down opposite his friend. Everything about his body language screamed guilt.
He denied Harry twice, and after that, never again. A friendship forged by nothing more than
acceptance. He knew, people lauded him for it, how their friendship had been tested and therefore would stay true, but these people always forget how it began. With a simple choice. Ron never thought guilt was a currency they used on each other. Or blood. Or gratitude. They simply were. He gave freely, he always had.
"It's not up to us, is it? Draco's the one who decides."
Harry kept standing.
The fingers of one hand clasped tightly on his own shirt.
"No." He said. "You can say no to him." He continued, taking one step closer to Ron. "Say no to him. It's me and him Ron. Everyone knows it is. Without me he's unprotected. He needs me, and I need him. The way he makes me feel?" He put his free hand on the redhead's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but you can't have him. Please, just... tell him that."
"I can't."
Harry pulled his hand away like it burned him, teeth gritting together now. "Why the fuck not? You really want to do this? Destroy our friendship? You can have anyone else, Ron. You do have whoever you want all the time. He gets me. I don't accept this." Harry's magic was now unstable, flickering the lights.
"Tell him you don't want him. Ron, you have to or else...or else we're done. You'll be a fucking homewrecker is that what you want? What will Molly say?"
Even as he said it, Harry knew it was wrong to do so, but his anger was now something he could not control. Like fiendfyre licking at his heels.
Blue eyes that had always been an open book, a visual history of their lives together, stared straight through their other half. Because he did think of Harry like that. A soulmate. A like-soul.
But not his master.
It's good he felt guilty. It helped him stay grounded, sober. Without it, he'd have lashed out all the hurts Harry has done to his family, real and imagined. Ron knew, he's the one at fault. Matching temper with Harry now would just end with them broken. That's how it's always been when they fight.
Ron smiled at him sadly. "Don't, mate. Don't go there." He sighed around the painted smile.
"I don't want to." And he meant it, Harry didn't want to go there, he felt horrible doing this, trying to get Ron to do what he needed him to do, but he had also expected this to be...easier. It had always been that way hadn't it? Ron followed him.
But Ron also did what he wanted. When Harry said no, sometimes the redhead would push. And there had been times, after all, when he had gone against him.
This couldn't be one, it just...not this time.
"What am I supposed to do then, Ron? Just grin and bear it? Let my best friend and my boyfriend go riding together into the sunset and accept it? Sacrifice myself again?" Harry asked, closing his eyes for a second to ground himself a little more.
"Ron I need him. Every time I see him it shows me that...that people can change, that it can get
better. If this happens, if he leaves me..." Harry paused. Something in his brain clicked, and though he didn't notice it now, days later, he would remember his own words and he'd understand. "It means I failed."
"What?"
The fuck was he on? thought Ron, giving Harry a puzzled look.
"It means he's not better doesn't it? If he's the sort to cheat on me." Harry returned a look, but his was accusatory. "It means that he's still the same Draco Malfoy from before. He had changed Ron...I know he did. I helped."
Ron heard every nuance in those words; couldn't help it, because it was Harry. It was 'I need you to say yes', '...if you love me', 'I'm scared', and 'hold on, we can still get through this together' all rolled into one; the sum of their entire relationship, a lifetime of brotherhood. And it was just too much for Ron's overloaded system – the despairing weight of that plea, the promise and answer Harry was waiting for him to make, the pressure of it all. Potential responses were a funnel cloud of destruction in his head, a maelstrom of possibility. He didn't even have the energy to fight with Harry, let alone pick a reply.
But he did.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Is this what you tell him?"
Harry blinked, taken aback by the outburst. "What do you mean?"
"Does Draco know you think this way?" Ron asked.
The temper's back.
"What way?" Harry frowned hard "I don't know what you're talking about? Does he know what, that I think he's a better man? Yeah. Course he knows I tell him that all the time."
"Holy shit." Disbelief. That's what Ron felt. He thought back at what Draco said before, and wondered now if it was Draco who thought it first, or if Harry did.
"Harry, your dick is not that good. If it was, Cho would have stayed longer than she did. "
He laughed, clipped at the end when he realized what the other man was saying.
Harry saw red.
"What the fuck are you talking about you bastard? You think this is funny do you? You love that he thinks he wants you instead of me?" He glared "It won't last. As if you could make it last, you and your endless merry-go-round of fucks."
Ron chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot my cock can't make bad people turn good. But hey, while I'm with him, you can go fuck everyone in Azkaban, get the evil out by flushing their holes with cum."
And then Harry punched Ron right in the nose.
Groaning, hands on his nose, wondering if it was broken, Ron waited for the dizzy spell to leave before he tried to sit up straight. When he could speak without spitting out blood that pooled in his mouth in response to the punch, he got back to the previous topic. He had spent twenty years
hiding overwhelming frustration at people's perception of him. He did his best to minimize his persona of flippant sarcasm, psychological baiting, and authoritative insults at Harry. Because Harry had needed something else from him. A friend. A brother.
A family.
Now though? Harry needed a fucking reality check. "You think Draco needs you to be good?"
"Of course not!" Harry said, but even as he did, he realized he was lying, just a tiny bit, but still. "I said, I helped. He knows it. You know he's different when he's with me. You can't deny that much at least. Our friends, accepted him because we started dating."
"So? I thought the point of winning the war was that we stop making these lines of who's good and who's bad? Harry... Pretty sure Neville and Seamus would befriend the shit out of Draco even if you didn't say so. You didn't make anything happen. Fuck's sake."
Ron stood up.
He just about loomed over Harry.
"So what, now he's not dating you, he goes back to being a Death Eater?"
Harry wasn't afraid, he was much shorter and not as imposing but it didn't matter. He stood up straight, chin up.
"Of course not. Not Draco, but the lines? They still exist. You quit the aurors, Ron, so you don't know. You've forgotten how it can be there. So no, I don't think Draco would go back to being a death eater, but he reminded me that..." He paused. "...what I do there, all of it, means something. If he changed then..."
Harry shook his head and took a step back. "You're not changing your mind are you? You're going to be with him."
"Of course, I'm staying with him. Because I at least won't treat him as a fucking project. Or some fucking validation of my goodness. You... I could punch you. You were with Draco for six months, and all this time, this was what you thought? You don't love someone because you keep them good. You just love them."
It helped if the values aligned. It helped if people grow, as the love progress. Ron learned that from Hermione. The give. The take. But if you love them, you love all of them. Just like he loved Hermione before despite her crazy allegations about House Elves. Her disdain of Purebloods and what they stood for. He never once berated her for it, or reminded her she insults him, too, when she goes on her rant. And he changed for her, he did. Saw her view of things, and saw the merit in them. But she never expected him to be something he didn't want to be.
Because she loved him already for who he was.
Just as he knows Draco loves him for who he was.
How could Harry not get this?
"What about us? Where does that leave us?" Harry asked, and he did sound defeated. His anger had started to drain out of him, not because of Ron's words, no, he wouldn't really understand what he had done or thought, and how it might have been wrong until some time had passed, but because he realized there was no changing Ron's mind.
Harry knew him enough to know that much.
"We're brothers, Harry. Just like you've always been a Weasley even if you weren't with Ginny."
It'll take a while. Or maybe never. Harry might never forgive him for this.
It hurts, thinking that.
"I'm really sorry. But I love him."
Harry sighed, Ron's words ringing in his ears like screeching metal. "I know you're sorry. It doesn't change how shitty this is." He looked away. "I'm sorry too, but you need to go, Ron. Please. I can't handle seeing you. You need to find another place."
That made sense. Ron blinked back tears, knowing it would be a dick move to cry now. "Yeah. Sure."
He turned to leave. Took a few steps, but then stopped. He turned back uncertainly, unsure if he should say anything else, but knowing he didn't have anymore opportunity after this. If Harry never forgives him.
"You should teach. If... if what you wanted was to change our world, you teach how. Like Lupin."
Harry didn't stop his own, tears pooled in his eyes.
He was angry. At Ron. At Draco. At everything.
Later, at himself too.
"Just go."
Climax
Chapter Notes
The title of this one?
I mean it.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
I talked to Harry. I don't want you to worry about anything, but you were right about my needing to sleep. I'm staying over at George. Let's meet later? Love, Ron
It was okay.
Really it was alright, that owl hadn't been too bad had it? Ron was telling him there was nothing to worry about.
So naturally, it was not okay and Draco was sitting in his bedroom, furiously pretending to read a book while gritting his teeth and tossing something across the room every few minutes. It was looking like a right mess.
There was a knock on the door just as he ripped a page of the book in frustration. "Mother? Please I told you not to come in here, I'm reading!"
The door opened a crack and an unblinking eye peered at him.
It was one of the younger house elves recently brought into the Manor.
"Master?" he whispered.
"Oh what is it..." Draco looked at the elf, trying to remember its name but he couldn't for the life of him. "uhm...Ditto? Mitto? Tito?"
The House Elf teared up. His name was Wails.
"Miss Weesilly is in the parlor."
"Ginevra?!" The blond blinked a little shocked by the news and then his heart sank completely. Oh gods, why was she here? Why not Ron, why her? What had happened. Draco jumped off the bed and dashed to the door.
"Bring us tea and whatever please...T...Kito? What is your name?"
There was a dramatic sob, because the master hasn't hexed the living shit out of him and that was very nice. The House Elf ran away to do as he was bid, wailing quietly. Lucius Malfoy was rolling in his grave, no doubt. The quality of the help has gone down fast. Hermione's new reforms were still hated, but it didn't mean some of the savvier ones were not making use of the laws protecting them.
It helped some elf in Hogwarts was doing classes on how to be properly snitty at wizards while
being amazing help.
In the parlor, Ginny was inspecting the house decor.
Draco didn't pause to think about the elf much more, mostly because though he wasn't very mean to them anymore, he also couldn't say he cared too much about them either. Besides, some of them didn't even want to be spoken to in a friendly manner, the weird little creatures that they were.
When he entered the parlor he saw Ginny looking around and took a deep breath.
"Ginny...what's happened? Why are you here?"
"I swear, how is your family this insanely rich? I think I need to sit dad down about financial choices."
"Years and years of Malfoys scheming and investing and blackmailing. Not sure it's an example to follow, though the result is nice...but you're not here to look at our furniture. What is it Ginny? Is it Ron? Is he...fuck, did Harry... just tell me, rip the bandaid off!"
"Good grief. Calm down, you twit." But the insult was softened by a beaming smile, and the fierce hug that followed. "I just wanted to be the first to claim I welcomed you in the family."
"What?" Draco was shocked by the hug to say the least but he was also relieved almost immediately. That was a good thing, if she was saying that. "Did Ron talk to you? He just owled me to meet him later."
Ginny snorted. It's very unlady-like. It's a good thing she's got the ridiculous Weasley genetics. It let her get away with a lot. She grabbed at Draco's hands and swung them. At nineteen and slowly emerging from the fugue caused by the war, she's getting her cheer back.
"George. George owled me. You didn't honestly think you can date a Weasley and not have the rest be nosy about it?"
"Anyway, I'm claiming you as my friend."
Draco would like it. He'd be in the company of Luna and Neville.
Draco actually chuckled, now the tension almost complete dissipating from his body. This was good news. This was...acceptance. He wasn't going to be told what a horrible person he was for what happened, at least not by Ginny.
And if not by her, the youngest of the family, the only girl, then by no one else either.
"Are you sure? I am very high maintenance you know? Don't you want to leave me for someone with more patience? Like, I don't know, Percy." Merlin forbid if that happened. Draco was never more bored than when Percy was speaking.
"Percy is not patient. Percy is long-suffering and snitty."
She chuckled and moved away. It's so very rude, but she can't stop her eyes from moving to one knick-knack to the next. Not everything was her style, but all had an expensive sheen to them.
"Besides, an hour with Luna and you're likely going to be too bewildered to be your precious self." She blinked and turned to Draco, eyes-wide-open. "Do you mind if I heckle Harry about this? Ron would, but if you agreed..."
She hoped Draco would say yes. She'd wanted to send Harry a passive-aggressive note of sympathy for his broken heart, but knew it crossed a line. Enough to get an unhappy sigh from her mum, maybe a frown from her dad. And Ron. Ron wouldn't like it. But it's such a great opportunity. She was even willing to stop after this, finally writing Harry off as part of her past.
She grimaced. "I'm not very nice."
The blond shook his head but he took her hand in a gesture of friendship. It wouldn't be hard, he thought, being friends with Ginny of all people. She was obstinate and sometimes rude, but she was a good person, a friend to those she loved, and honestly, in a few things, she reminded him of himself.
"I'd rather you didn't. I know you'd love it if we had a little shit talk about Harry but...not yet I don't think, and Ron wouldn't like it anyway." He looked at her and smiled at her grimace before leaning in and whispering "Well, we can shit talk in private though. Share all the dirt."
She giggled.
"So... you and Ronnie?"
"Yes well..." He couldn't help but grin at the thought. "I do like him a lot you know." He joked
"Yes, but he's so... Ron. And please stop. It's weird to see someone so happy to be with him." But again, there's that smile. "Can I give you an advice?"
"Yes I know, he's very Ron it's quite perfect." Draco smirked and then raised an eyebrow. "As long as it's not sexual..."
Ginny raised a hand to hit him, paused to think how good an idea it was, and then decided whatever. She hit him on the arm.
"Don't be gross! Oh, gads, that's shuddery. That... ugh. No, meant, go to George's. He said Ron's asleep. So just go there now. And don't do that. Or do that. But--," She scrunched her face. She did not need to imagine the two doing the dirty. "Go. Right now. He'll like it. And you know he'll want the company. Ignore whatever the git says to you."
Ron was too noble for his own good sometimes.
It took a while for her to remember that.
She just thought Draco and Ron would want their first day full of nicer memories.
He winced from the hit, taking a step away from her."You brute, what you don't like to think about your brother doing it?" Draco chuckled and then considered her advice. She might be right. Ron had said that they could meet later, but at the same time it would be nice to at least be there for him, for5 the redhead to know that he wouldn't just sit and wait.
Draco too could be a man of action.
Even if it took Ginny to nudge him to it.
"Yeah, I think you're right. I'll go and wait until he wakes up so he has something nice to wake up to..."And then he paused, cheekily smirked at her. "If you know what I mean, Ginevra."
"Don't make me hit you again, Malfoy."
Draco almost cackled. "What's George's address? Are you coming or do you want to stay here and admire my mother's decorations some more?"
Ginny shook her head. "I have practice. And just go to his shop. He lives on the third floor."
--
Ron tossed on the bed. He'd been trying to sleep, but his guilt won't let him. Neville had sent him an owl, explaining Harry wasn't home.
It was all a big mess.
Hermione's letter will come next. That she hasn't sent one yet was already worrying, and he wondered if he should send one himself already. The thing was, the thought of losing her friendship was almost as gutting as the idea he's already lost Harry's, and Ron found himself drawing a blank at what to say. She hadn't been the biggest fan of Draco and Harry dating, though she also became Draco's friend later. With Ron though...
Sometimes, Ron hated her for making this happen.
It's something he's been thinking about.
Of course, he doesn't regret being with Draco now. But if Hermione hadn't let him go, would he have ever started to care for Draco the way he does? A love that makes him ache. Something that touches deep in him.
He has no doubts.
But he does wonder.
With a huff, he sat up, rubbing his face with his hands.
-
Draco apparated to the shop after saying his goodbye to Ginny and was ushered in by George, who immediately started to lecture him on how he'd have to be a guinea pig for his inventions now. Everyone in the family did it.
Somehow Draco didn't think that was true at all.
"I'd prefer you keep me away from them, thank you very much." He said rolling his eyes at George's mischievous grin. "How is he though? Ron?" Draco asked, whispering a little afraid he'd wake him up.
"He's in my bedroom. He's alright I think, well...he's kind of a mess, but isn't he always?" George answered with a shrug before walking up to a nearby door and knocking. "Mate? Someone's here for you. You better let him in or else I'm feeding him some of the new fur-o-gro potion, I need new testers."
The door opened, and a frazzled looking Ron appeared before them. "Harry!"
George snickered. "You sure you want this one, Malfoy?"
"Draco. What are you...?"
Draco's face fell a little at how he called for Harry. "I'm..a wizard? Ron are you okay? Did he hex
you?" He asked, worriedly placing his palm on Ron's forehead to check for a fever.
Ron flinched. Not too much, but it was obvious enough for George to quirk a brow at him. Without waiting for either exchange more words, he pushed Draco inside his room, making Ron step out of the way.
"He meant what are you doing here, obviously. Anywho, you two can't fuck in here. But I'm good with some hand action. Just keep it qui--,"
With a snarl, Ron grabbed Draco's hand and pushed past George who was still listing instructions of his dos and don'ts.
"Sorry," Ron told the blond. "My family's mental. Did you manage to get some sleep?"
He tugged at Draco, urging him to walk faster. Behind them, George had kept up his monologue, speaking loud enough to be heard on the first floor.
Draco glared at George and followed Ron willingly, though he was still a little worried at this reception. Could Ginny have been wrong somehow? "A little bit, and it's not a problem. Ginny paid me a visit earlier. Compared to her, George is a baby crup." He said. "Listen, Ron... I am getting the feeling I should not have come, but...I needed to know you were okay."
"Practically destroyed my room with the worry."
Ron chuckled. "I'm not okay. But I'm glad you came."
Out of the shop, Ron asked if Draco would mind a hotel rather than a cafe. "I'm worried I'd fall on my feet soon."
"Of course, that's fine, as long as you let me pay. I'm not staying at some shoddy place." Draco said with a smile small back at Ron, though his brow was still somewhat furrowed. Ron said he was glad he came, that was good, but also that he was not okay.
It meant whatever happened with Harry had gone badly. It wasn't something that was going to be easy to get over.
If he could at all.
"The Dunkirk is nearby. It's well rated. Lets go, yeah? We can have something to eat too."
Ron nodded. Then he seemed to sag and he put his head on Draco's shoulder, like a child seeking comfort at his nearness. It was just seconds, but when he pulled away, the tiredness in his eyes was a little lessened.
Apparating to the hotel, Ron let Draco handle the front desk, idly looking around much the same way Ginny had done earlier at Malfoy Manor.
Draco paid for a night and then interlaced his fingers with Ron and walked with him to the last floor. Obviously, he had taken the suite.
When they were inside, still holding Ron's hand he guided him to one of two very lavish couches and put both his hands on his shoulders pushing him down to sit on it. Draco then stood between his legs and wrapped his arms around Ron, pulling his face right to his chest.
"I'm sorry."
Ron did not tell him there was nothing to be sorry about.
Instead, he hugged back and for a while, nothing. Then it became clear Ron was crying if only just a bit. "This sucks."
"Yes." Draco said and he teared up too, though he knew he had to be strong this time, it wasn't about him.
Well, it was. The reason all of it had happened was definitely because of him, but right then, in that moment, it was about Ron and his friendship with Harry.
Or lack thereof. The thought was scary, even to himself, so he could only imagine what the redhead was feeling.
"What can I do?"
"Just don't hate me that I'm sad now." Ron gave Draco a watery chuckle. "Or the next couple of days."
"Ron..." Draco put both his hands on either side of Ron's face and guided it to look at him. "You think I could hate you for anything?" He smiled softly, his eyes already red. "Well...maybe that orange room of yours." He added before kissing his hair.
"Bite your tongue, ferret. You're going to love that room."
Then Ron went back to hiding his face and crying.
--
When Draco woke up, he sleepily reached for his wand on the bedside table and cast a tempus spell. It was six in the morning and when he looked at the window, he could see the sun peeking through the curtains.
He felt comfortable and smiled to himself. Last night had been tough and Ron and him had fallen asleep together after shedding quite a few tears. Now though, with the redhead's arm slung around himself and his leg in between his, Draco was feeling like there wasn't much that could make him unhappy.
Of course, he expected Ron to be a mess for a while, so he knew he had to do something nice that morning. Slowly, he tried to roll out of bed and untangle himself from his bedmate.
Ron startled in sleep, muttered something unintelligible, and then buried his head under his pillow.
Eagle-spread, face down, Draco was left to contemplate the fact this was how the man he loved slept. Messily, and really not all sexily.
The blond looked at Ron and shook his head at him but he had a smile on his face. He managed to slide from under his grasp and stood up, before leaning down over him and whispering, just in case he could hear.
"Going to take a shower and then get breakfast, you starfish."
He chuckled softly and unbuttoned his shirt as he walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Ron kept sleeping.
Sleeping was kind of his thing.
-
After his shower, and throwing quite a few cleaning spells at his clothes, Draco took another look at his sleeping boyfriend, and it felt good to think that was what the redhead was now, and decided to let him sleep a bit more.
He sat at one of the large couches and got himself a book the hotel had left around for entertainment. After about an hour or so of reading and glancing at Ron, he finally called the hotel kitchens and asked for breakfast.
It was only when the food arrived, neatly done and looking divine, that Draco decided he'd wake Ron up.
He walked to the bed, sat on it and rubbed the redhead's back. "Ron? Ron wake up"
The pillow stirred, just a bit, then some twitching of his right elbow. That's it.
Draco sighed and cast a stasis spell on the food, to keep it warm, before leaning himself completely over Ron, putting his weight on him.
"Ron" he said, louder "Wake up, there's food!"
Nothing. Ron Weasley was a man who understands priorities. Last night, had Draco been willing, fucking Draco raw until he was squealing and begging was all Ron lived for. Food may or may not have followed, because Ron would have wanted an encore performance. Now, sleep has claimed him and was refusing to give him up.
But also, he was dreaming.
And it was a very good dream.
In the dream, Ron was finally having a go at Draco, and who wants to wake up from that?
Draco groaned "Wake up! Or I'm eating everything without you." He said, loudly before just pinching Ron's arse
A pause, and then, "Yeah, baby. Spread your legs. Come on."
Not the loudest, and because of the pillow, very muffled. But understandable enough.
Draco's eyes widened and then he laughed. "Ron for fuck's sake...if you're dreaming about fucking some of your exs I will murder you right now, and I'd rather not do it yet." He said and then just plain old shook him by the shoulders.
Ron groaned.
Finally, the pillow was flung away and Ron turned, eyes squinted at Draco. His sleep slackened expression made him look befuddled, and there were marks from the sheets on his cheek, even his forehead. He worked his mouth, willing it to work properly and said, "If you love me, you'll give me a morning kiss right now."
Draco immediately put his hand over Ron's mouth and grimaced. "I don't know I can love anyone while they have that kind of morning breath, darling." He said but then waved his wand right at Ron's face, muttering the incantation to clean his teeth.
Smirking, he took his hand away and kissed him.
Ron made a face.
It was barely a second though, because soon, he was deepening the kiss, and sleep refusing to let go, was pulling him back to a dream-like state. It cajoled him to remember what he left behind, and Ron, appreciating that for once, reality and make-believe were in cahoots, pulled Draco to straddle him completely, angling his body on top so his dick was perfectly pressed down on by Draco's arse.
"Fuck," he breathed. "This how you're always going to wake me up?"
Draco buried his face in Ron's neck and nodded. "If I can, yes." He smiled against his skin and moved his hips just so. He could be a tease sometimes. "And with food too, you know? I'm a very nice boy." He smirked before straightening himself back up, hands on Ron's chest. "But you need a shower, you know?"
"No, no. Shag first."
Ron emphasized this by grabbing Draco's hips and lifting his own up and grinding his crotch.
The blond groaned and did his best not to just give in immediately. No, he had to be strong. "No, shower first. You're filthy. Come on, I'll wash your hair, you'll like that."
"You don't like filthy sex?" Maybe it's the voice, still gruff with sleep. Maybe it's the fact Ron had not stopped dry humping him and exaggerating the look of pleasure on his face every time he does. "We need to sleep naked from now on."
"Oh fuck you." Draco said without any heat his hands clutching at Ron's shirt hard now. "Of course I do, just not filthy like this...we can have all the filthy sex you want after, I promise."
Ron laughed. With some effort he stilled his movements and tapped Draco's hip, indicating he should slide off now. "Here I thought you'd be fun," he teased.
Draco narrowed his eyes at him and got off, arms crossed when he stood and a petulant expression.
"I am the most fun, I will have you know." He rolled his eyes and gestured towards the bathroom. "I just prefer the smell of soap to two-day-old sweat."
Ron growled at him playfully and lunged. He brought Draco down on the bed, and forgot his plan to shower, as he started to nibble Draco's neck.
Draco might need to kick him to the bathroom.
So this was love. This was what it would be like for them.
"I love you," Ron whispered.
"Gods, Ron..." Draco said, and though he was trying to push Ron away it was such a poor attempt and he wasn't making any at all to protect his neck. "I love you too." He sighed and actually pushed him away firmly then. "I'll let you attack my neck some more in the shower how about that hm?"
A bit more grumbling, but Ron eventually relented.
Walking backward, he started to do a little strip tease, but ruined it by laughing. Two minutes after the door closed, he could be heard singing "Weasley is our King."
It was a short shower.
Disgustingly short.
But at least he did smell of soap and shampoo, his skin scrubbed clean of last night's shenanigans. Towel low on his hips, Ron leaned down to Draco and breathed minty fresh breath at him. "Better?"
"Mmmmm" Draco hummed his approval and leaned into him before a hand snaked down of its own accord to pull at the towel. Sure, he would respect Ron if he was sad and didn't want to do anything...but he had started it hadn't he? Surely it was okay.
"Now, what shall we do... your clothes are all dirty I don't think you can wear any. Sad."
Ron grinned. Then he kissed him.
It was slow first, gentle. His blue-eyes closed, and he dropped down on his knees so now it was Draco leaning down to him. Gone was the desperation from before, the kisses that were almost punishing in their intensity. It was clear he was enjoying this. Sucking on Draco's tongue, Ron's hands were everywhere. Eventually, though, he had one travel down Draco's arm and when it reached Draco's wrist, he guided it to his cock.
He knew, there were things they had to talk about.
But, Merlin, he'd waited too long for this. Wanted this for too long.
Draco made a small appreciative sound, right against Ron's lips and his fingers wrapped around Ron's length, immediately starting to stroke it, relishing in the silky smooth feel.
He had thought about this so much, about what it would feel to kiss Ron too, to get lost in him, and now he could.
Merlin, now he could do it.
Draco pulled away from his lips, just kiss down his chin. "Get on the bed, let me, I want to taste you."
Ron didn't need to be told again.
Soon, he was sprawled on the bed, flushed red and excited. The intensity in his eyes made the blue of his eyes fairly seem to burn. Panting hard, he spread his legs to give Draco more room to get between them comfortably.
"You like this?"
The blond licked his lips and positioned himself between Ron's legs, hands trailing slowly up them, until one was resting on the inside of his thigh, the other back on Ron's dick.
"I love all of it." He said before leaning down and after a quick glance upwards, taking his length right into his mouth and sucking. True, he could have teased and licked, could have fondled it a little but there would be time for that later. Right now he just wanted, was too eager.
"Fuck."
For a while, that seemed to be the only word Ron knew.
All points of his existence were focused on his lower region, where Draco was doing amazing things to him.
One hand holding Draco's head steady, doing his best not to push it down and just...
Eventually, he spoke some other words. "Draco, let me, too. Just... fuck, luv."
Draco pulled away, giving the head of Ron's cock a little lick as he did. The taste was salty and bitter, but he didn't care. He needed everything.
"Tell me what you want to do to me...I want to know, tell me and you can do whatever you want." Draco said, looking up at his boyfriend, the grey of his eyes almost completely gone with how large his pupils had gotten.
The redhead looked nervous for a moment, sitting up and messing his hair as he thought how to word what he wanted. It's hard; Draco has no idea what it was like for him, wanting him to the point of depravity. Ron before wanting Draco, had been adventurous in bed, but not something to write about. He'd like to do the usual things. The normal things.
But Draco, who for so long, had been Harry's...
It brought the demon out. Some lust-driven fiend he hadn't realized was in him. It filled his sleep with dreams of what he'd love to do to the blond. Things he'd been so horrified to realize turned him on.
"Take your clothes off, Malfoy." Ron licked his lips. He grinned. "Then turn around. Ass up. Please."
Draco didn't know why he liked that, his last name on Ron's lips, but he did and he didn't even have to think twice before unbuttoning his shirt, pulling down his trousers and doing as Ron said, getting on all fours on the bed.
Maybe it was the way he said it, like the word Malfoy wasn't a bad word, wasn't an accusation. It was just a name, a reminder perhaps that Draco was still himself, not weak, not broken.
He was shaking a little all over, in anticipation, his skin prickling. "Ron..." He practically moaned the name.
"Yeah, keep saying my name."
And then Ron's mouth -- his whole face -- was pressed in the crack of Draco's pale, shapely arse. His two hands had gripped either cheek, spreading it to allow him access to where he was salivating to stick his tongue in. He's never done this shit, and he was fully ready to hate it, to admit the actual thing might not be as great as what he'd dreamed about. But at the sight of the puckered hole, and Ron knew, he's going to fucking love this.
He started to lick.
His clever tongue dipped in as much as he was allowed to do.
Draco's skin was so smooth.
"Ron!" Draco wasn't proud of the fact that he yelped a little when he felt Ron's exploring tongue,
but soon enough all the sounds coming from his mouth were moans and deep groans he didn't even know his throat was capable of. "Oh fuck...oh gods, Ron..." He kept saying, a stream of almost incoherent words.
He'd had sex before with more than one person, before Harry, but no one had done this before and it was... something.
It felt, filthy.
It felt amazing.
Draco gasped, his cock so hard now that he felt he might come just from this.
"Ron...please...more please..."
Ron's in a fever dream; he's only vaguely aware what he was doing. Spit dripped freely as he stuck his tongue out and tried to get as much of it inside Draco, the other man's moans making him so horny for more. He had nothing else in his mind except to please. Eventually, one hand slipped between his tongue and Draco's butthole and he pulled back just enough so he could watch his middle finger slip an inch inside. Rotating the finger, he instructed Draco to tell him when he's ready for more.
He bit Draco's ass.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."there's nothing more Draco can say. He pushed back against Ron's finger, moving his hips to the rhythm of it and so very soon he's loose enough for me. "Please...Ron, please I need..." He gasps out as the sting hits, his eyes shut, lost in the sensations.
His knuckles are white from how hard he grasps at the sheets beneath him. "Fuck me...fuck me..."
The demon's loose. Now secure and without inhibition, knowing Draco wasn't disgusted by Ron's kink, Ron was ready to make him beg. Sliding another finger, he experimented, looking for the small nub that he knew Draco needed hit to maximize his pleasure.
"It's so warm," he told Draco, his voice so raw sounding, because he growled the words.
He can't get enough of watching his fingers inside Draco's arse.
And then Ron found it.
Draco moaned loud enough that whoever was in the next room was getting an earful. "Oh fuck...Do that again, do..." He couldn't continue his sentence just then because Ron hit it again.
He was breathing so hard he was sure it was as loud as his moans had been and his skin was so hot, he feltfeverish.
"Please, oh please, I need you inside me, Ron...Ron please." He begged, he didn't care. He's Draco Malfoy, sure, he's supposed to be proud and all, but there are times a man just can't be.
Ron slid his fingers out, making sure to note the angle they'd been in. "On your back, luv. I wanna see your face when we do this."
Draco immediately whined at the loss of Ron's fingers, wanting them back inside right away, but the prospect of something more made him do what the other man said.
And when he looked at Ron's cock, big and hard right there, he spread his legs, inviting it, while he
stroked himself lightly, just enough to stay on the edge.
"You're so beautiful." Raised on one elbow, he looked at Draco with adoration. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the hollow of his neck, tucking a strand of his angel hair behind Draco's ear.
Pushing in the head of his cock, he wondered if he should have played a bit more. Loosened him more. "I'm gonna wreck you," he said, somewhat unsure.
"Yes..." Draco honestly didn't even have the clarity of mind to register the compliment. His body had taken over, he just wanted more of it, more of Ron.
"Yes, please yes do it." He said , one leg hooked around Ron's waist, trying to relax as much as he could to let him all in.
Ron pushed. Not a lot, and he rocked back and forth, loving the tight feel of the entrance.
Slow, agonizingly slow, he slid the entire length of him. And through it all, he watched Draco's face. He leaned his torso down, grimacing at the twinge of pleasure-pain when Draco's hard length pushed hard on his stomach. Clenching his arse, he pulled out, just until only two inches of his dick stayed covered in the amazing warmth, before putting it all in again. He was dying, but Ron knew Draco needed this to relax it all so when Ron was ready to fuck him like he should be fucked every time, they'd both enjoy it.
"I wanted this. Even before I realized loved you, I wanted this."
Look at me.
Do you see me? Let me see your eyes.
I love you.
Draco nodded.
He understood. He could feel how cautious Ron was being, how he wanted to make sure it was good for them both, how much he wanted to go harder, faster, and yet was controlling himself. The blond's hands were grasping the redhead's arms tightly, his other leg having joined its sister wrapping itself around Ron's waist.
He could also feel himself getting looser, the sting of pain every time Ron's cock went into him getting lesser and lesser every time.
Soon, all he felt was a good burn, that feeling of fullness, and more pleasure than he had felt before.
It was perfect.
"You're perfect." He said. "You feel so perfect inside me, Ron... I want you so bad. I'm ready, please, I'm so ready." Draco looked directly at him, willing him to see just how crazy he was feeling, how much he needed this.
How he had been waiting, too long.
That was it. That was all Ron needed. He got himself braced on both elbows and started to fuck him hard, making sure to keep their stomachs still touching, because the added constant reminder
of Draco's dick between their body was enough to keep Ron's sex drive up. He knew, he should try for an orgasm, but he just wanted to enjoy this moment. Prolong it as much as possible.
Listening to the hitch in his breathing as he penetrated Draco, feeling his body tighten, sensing his legs tighten around him, watching the discomfort and submission in Draco's face while Ron had his way. And knowing the blond submitted to it all willingly, knowing that he wanted it--,
"Does it feel good?"
Draco was lost in all of it, all the sensations running through his body, up his spine, and every time Ron brushed up against his prostate he knew hewas getting closer and closer to the edge.
He wanted to prolong it as much as he could too, if he could he'd stay in this moment here, with him, away from anyone else who can judge them, just enjoying each other.
But it was not easy, not when the friction of their bodies on his own hard cock, together with the one inside him was making him moan so wantonly, so openly.
He nodded. "yes, it's..." He managed to say as he arched his back just to take more in, greedily, trying to move in tandem with Ron. "I feel so full, your cock feels so good inside me, Ron." He added and bit at his own lip, but it was no use, he cried out anyway.
He was so close, so close.
"I'm...I'm g...I can't..."
"Yeah, you like it's so big?"
Fuck. Ron's not sure where this was coming from. He'd always shunned dirty talk, though he was a whore for praises. Pulling away from Draco, grabbing at the other man's hips as he tried to gain leverage with their new position, and managing to lift Draco's lower body up enough from the bed, Ron started to gyrate his hip in slow circles as he thrust in. He wanted that when this was over, that his lover won't be able to shut up about the experience. That he'd seek out Pansy, Blaise, fuck, even Luna, and tell them what he'd done.
He wanted Harry gone from Draco's memory.
Wiped clean and all his thoughts focused on just him.
"Oh, fuck, Draco. I'm gonna do this to you all night."
He palmed the length of Draco's legs, loving the feel of the hard, lean muscles.
"Ah...ah...ah..." It's not like Draco didn't want to do that all night, because he did, but it had been too long in the making. They've been dancing around each other since the beginning, since the very first day that insults turned into playful ribbing.
And Harry? He didn't even compare, couldn't compare. He was restrained, controlled because that's what he thought he should be and Draco had never dared to ask for more from him. Who was he to demand anything from him?
But he was going to demand now, he was going to want more and more and he knew Ron would give him everything he had because he surely knew that Draco would too.
At that moment though, he couldn't hold on anymore, it was too much, Ron's words coupled with
another brush against his prostate sent ripples of pleasure through him and he came, hard, his cum shooting all over his stomach and chest, his cock, untouched.
"Fuck...oh fuck..."
Ron groaned. He would have given anything to have had Draco let it all explode in his mouth.
Still, the sight of his love coming undone was enough, and Ron dropped any technique in favor of hard fucking. When he came, the intensity almost had him blank out for a split second. It wasn't the biggest load of his life, but it was close.
Merlin. Draco's sweet little hole was dripping with his jizz. Ron was dizzy at the thought.
The hard thrusts almost made the blond's cock go to attention again. That was how good they felt, how amazing it was to have Ron come undone because of him, to watch him in such ecstasy.
Draco wanted to make sure to get him there all the time from now on.
He moaned softly as he felt some of Ron's cum drip out of him. It felt dirty and so good.
Like he was completely his, inside and out, and with him, it didn't feel like a bad thing.
"Ron...that..." He said and then reached up for the other man, pulling him down into a kiss.
Shit. Did Draco realize what he was doing? Who would have thought the boy known for his prissy, elegant ways would french someone who had been eating his ass just a while ago. Ron moaned in the kiss, then reluctantly pulled away, because if they keep this up, he'll try a spell just so he could have the pleasure of being Draco again. And again. And again.
"Go shower." The truth? He liked the idea of Draco sticky with his cum. The sight of him sweaty and wrecked like this, the sticky white liquid already slowly hardening and becoming translucent on the pale skin...
Ron grabbed at Draco and embraced him, holding him tight.
His.
Finally.
"Go," he repeated. But he didn't let go.
"Hmm." Draco said and chuckled softly looking down at himself. He didn't really care.
Fuck. He didn't care that he was sticky and sweaty and all those other things that should be disgusting. Draco should care though, because he's the sort of person who gets easily disgusted at things, who can't abide by any sort of dirt or filth anywhere.
Yet, there he was, not moving, still clinging to Ron. It's not easy to let go now that he has him. "Come with?"
"You're going to be the death of me."
"Maybe, but I'll keep you alive too." Draco said with a grin, giving his boyfriend's chin a small peck.
Chapter End Notes
We still have a couple of chapters to go for this fic but I just wanted to thank everyone for commenting. We love, love, loooove reading your comments and we're so happy that you like this fic. We have already a new one prepared for you and are working on a one-shot as well!
Granger
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Draco was wrapped in Ron's arms, the two of them having moved the couch to face the large window overlooking the more scenic view of urban London. Afternoon light warmed their faces, but they were covered by the heavy duvet they commandeered from the bed.
Ron was sad again, his smile wistful, as he told Draco what happened.
But what was he supposed to do? He wanted Draco. How could he walk away? He wassick of all the questions he pretended he didn't care to know the answers for. His fingers curled tighter around Draco's, feeling the desperation of not losing him once again. He's spent the past six months longing for him, watching Draco change and transform into someone others wouldn't recognize anymore, telling himself it was a good thing. Even if none of it mattered to him.
"I'm sorry. In advance. The papers are going to have a field day with you."
They will. They'd frame it as if it was Draco who did something wrong.
After all, this was Harry and Ron. They were never supposed to not be together.
Draco sighed softly, playing with Ron's fingers and thought about what he was saying.
"Yeah, they will..." He said and leaned his head back against his boyfriend's shoulder, making sure there was absolutely no space between them. He wouldn't let there be any, ever again. "But...I think I have the Weasleys on my side, and that seems like a big advantage." Draco added looking a little apologetic.
"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to use your name to get out of getting stoned in the streets." He chuckled, hoping it wouldn't come to that.
He remembered still how they had said he was trying to trap Harry Potter when it all started, how he had to have slipped him some amortentia but soon enough the papers couldn't explain how all those war heroes kept Draco around them. They settled on saying it was Harry's doing, but maybe now it would be obvious it wasn't.
Could be a good thing in the end. Draco was already thinking about how to work that. He was sure Ron wouldn't mind it, not really.
"We could run away."
The blond chuckled. "Where would we go?"
"France."
Ron knew, they'd be celebrated there.
Sure, Harry's still Harry, and the French simper at heroes. But they swoon over lovers. Some things, the French just never lose. Pining for romance, for against all odds. And they'd protect Draco, who they can lay claim as one of them. They would lay claim of Ron, whose brother married a Frenchwoman. It's amour.
In France, Draco would be elegant and urbane, silvery blonde hair side swept to the side but forever falling straight down because it was so fine. Ron would answer every yes-or-no question with a ma'am or sir following his response, and a flush to his cheeks, clearly overwhelmed with the company.
It'd be running away.
No question about it.
But Ron's always been the more strategic minded of the Golden Trio and he knew this was a good plan.
Get them both away from allies and foes.
Draco might like the dream of being a Weasley, but they might overwhelm him.
Best to dole out their presence in controlled amount.
At least at the beginning.
"France." Draco echoed.
It wasn't a bad idea. He had after all been thinking of taking that potions' apprenticeship there. Besides, France was where his ancestors had come from, it was in his blood, and they'd be much less concerned about how he had screwed over the Chosen One and more into how much money he had and how good him and Ron looked together.
Draco smiled and titled his head so he could press his lips to Ron's jaw. "I do have a job offer there." He said before turning his body around and straddling Ron's lap so he could look at him. He kissed him.
"You won't mind doing that? Running away just because of me? For me? It's a lot to ask of you. I don't want you to be away from your family. I'll endure it if I have to, you know I can do it, I've done it before."
The wistful smile looked good on Ron. It made his gaze all soft and sweet; his face wasn't made for sadness and contemplation, so the contrast was sharp. This love is difficult, he thought. But it's worth it.
"You promise you gonna keep putting out?"
Draco full on laughed before flicking Ron in the nose. "I suppose I must. Is that all I'm good for is it? You just want to get in my pants. I thought it was my winning personality, but I'll take it."
Ron wants to say, I'm going to marry you someday. But he learned how to keep that promise a secret. He doesn't think it will freak Draco out the way it did Hermione: It chased Hermione away, because in the muggle world, marriage was a pipe dream. Draco and Ron were from the same world, where young love was celebrated and believed in devotion through the ages. But after everything they've been through, he wants Draco to have a choice. He won't shackle him.
(He has his family to do the dirty deed for him.)
Ron kissed Draco instead.
Making love three times in one day -- and the day was far from over -- might be punishing, but
Ron's making up for lost time.
They were tangled on the sofa. Bless this ridiculously expensive hotel and their extravagantly designed furniture: The sofa was comfortable enough, specially with Draco draped over him. Outside, London was slowly lighting itself, the city fighting the darkening sky. Ron heard the scratching, and opened his eyes.
On the other side of the glass window, an owl hovered. A small scroll was tied on its foot.
Ron knew who owns the owl.
Go away, he told it.
His arms tightened around Draco.
He put a silencing charm so Draco wouldn't hear it, and used magic to close the curtains.
But Hermione was never one to be denied an audience.
Besides, he owed her an explanation.
When they left the hotel, the owl was waiting for them outside.
"Hermione," Ron told Draco. Holding his hand out, not giving a fuck at the startled and pleased surprised of the muggles around him, he took the scroll out of the owl. He didn't have any treats to give, so the owl had to make do with a scratch on the head. "Want to do the honors?"
Draco looked very suspiciously at the owl and the scroll but took it from Ron, opening it up.
Once he read through it, and thankfully there wasn't much to it, he sighed loudly and handed it to Ron.
"She wants to meet me. She doesn't say why..." He narrowed his eyes at the owl who gave him a mean look back. "Am I getting hexed, Ron? Please tell me she wasn't expecting you to get back together with her at some point."
The redhead grimaced.
How to explain there might be that expectation.
"She broke up with me, remember? And I hadn't exactly been fuck-free."
"Well, if I get hexed and die I expect you to avenge me." Draco said and though his words were playful he did look nervous. He wasn't really looking forward to facing Hermione of all people. Sure, they had become somewhat friends, but he had no idea how she'd react to this. Draco was now dating her ex and had just broken her best friend's heart.
Put like that, it was terrible.
"She wants to meet at a nearby cafe. Where will you be?"
"Two tables away."
But Hermione told him to go away. She looked sad, a little mad, when she did. Told Ron he was being ridiculous, that she wasn't going to do anything to Draco. Ron hovered, unsure, memories of yellow canaries suddenly appearing out of nowhere suddenly all he could think about. Hermione's scary when angered. But she gave him a watery smile, and reminded him, "You're scary when you're mad, too."
And she knew, the way Ron's eyes would constantly search out Draco's, sending silent messages, their glances conveying conversations done with minute shifts of expression, quirks of the lips, the flash of teeth after a smile; Ron would be mad if something was to happen with the blond.
"Go, Ron. I just want to talk to him."
"Why not me?"
But what else was left to say between them? They were friends.
Just friends.
"He'll be fine, Ron."
A nod at Ron was all Draco needed to convey he would be okay. They used to do that when Draco was with Harry too, even before. They understood each other better than most. It was strange how things had turned out that way, but wholly welcome.
The blond sat down finally, after Ron had left, his body language guarded but expectant. "I'd apologize, but I don't think I can make it sound very truthful at the moment. I'm not as sorry as I know you think I should be."
"That's fair. I'm glad you're being honest."
"There's no point in lying to you, you'll find out whatever you want to know, anyway." Draco said, smiling in what he hoped was a friendly way, but the truth was he was a little scared. Not because he thought she was truly going to hex him, but because he did care what she had to say.
Hermione, was for now, the one remaining trio bond Ron had. Draco didn't want that to break too.
"Neville said Harry's not home."
She didn't beat around the bush. And she did look angry when she said that, one hand clenching into a fist.
She was going to say more, but she suddenly looked to the side, to the window and exclaimed, "Oh, he's impossible!"
Ron was across the street, doing a shit job of hiding from sight. When he realized he's been caught, he scowled and reluctantly shuffled away. Both of them watched him, and only when she was sure he's truly left did she turn back to Draco. "I don't like how you two went about this."
Draco tried not to look satisfied with Ron's antics but failed spectacularly. It was sweet is all.
When he looked back at Hermione though, he sighed and his small smile dropped. "Did you actually speak to Harry? What did he tell you?"
"I can't contact him." She grimaced. Worry made her cross. "He's not at home. Honestly, couldn't you and Ron have waited a bit?"
She was reproachful. But then she shook her head and reached out a hand across the table so she could give Draco's hand a squeeze.
"I..." He was surprised at the touch but he managed to squeeze back. He just wasn't expecting it.
"I couldn't. I know it was bad of me, but I couldn't." He confessed "I was too afraid I'd lose him, that Harry would do what he promised he would and Ron would run away from me so, when the opportunity came I..." He sighed and took his hand away from hers feeling guilty now, almost more than how he had felt towards Harry "I love him, you know?"
Hermione looked away. Draco loving Ron had never been her problem. It was Ron loving him.
"He always comes back."
"Harry was going to tell him not to. Would you have risked it?"
Hermione wondered if Draco doesn't realize it yet. Another headshake. "When Ron makes up his mind... he's worse than Harry."
He can be selfish. It doesn't happen often, so when he does, it's a shock. But when he does, he commits.
Jokingly, she asked him, "Any chance you'll give him back to me?"
She knows, she's answering questions he didn't ask.
Draco smiled at her, it was warm, understanding. He knew that underneath her question was so much more. It couldn't be easy this, to know that Ron was in love with someone else now.
And Draco didn't fault her for feeling whatever way she was feeling, because he got it. She had Ron, and perhaps it hadn't been the right time and she had to end it, but you couldn't just forget the redhead, Draco was sure of that, he had tried. So, yes, he got it. She didn't seem bitter, probably wasn't at all, and she wouldn't stand in their way as he had feared many times that she would, but sit was still tough.
She had said, Ron always came back, but now he wouldn't come back to her in that way.
Draco was sure of that too. There wasn't any doubt in his mind anymore, not after what was said between them and not after Ron had made it clear with his choice to stay with him despite Harry's request.
"I'm afraid I'm going to keep him for a very long time. Forever if he'd like." He said, sneaking a glance around and outside just in case the redhead was lurking.
Draco would tell him this too at some point, but he didn't want to go too fast. "and now I will say it to you, and I'll mean it. I am sorry, Hermione, for the situation, for you being in the middle, but not for breaking up with Harry."
For a while nothing. Hermione seemed content to chew on her scones, her heavy brows knitted in a truly frightening frown. It was clear she was debating with herself, and after a while, she finally blurted it out.
"I knew, you know? Harry didn't believe me, or I thought he didn't. But then you two started dating--,"
She flushed. Said like that, it was like she and Harry planned to keep Ron and Draco away.
But she thought, Harry might not have had the right to meddle, but she did.
"I knew about you two," she finished lamely.
Draco mirrored her frown though his was mostly born from confusion.
"What do you mean? When?" He asked "And if Harry knew...if he thought that...why did he..."
Why did Harry ask Draco to date him if he knew Ron and him wanted each other? Not even Draco had known, not at first, but the way she said it made it seem like she knew for a long time.
"Because Harry did - does - love you."
Maybe not enough. Maybe not the right way. Harry always loved with strange strings attached. Cho, Ginny... Draco.
He had expectations of them. Roles they were supposed to play in the relationship.
Harry has never known how to love just for the sake of it. And Hermione couldn't fault him this, because when would he have had time to learn? But she hoped Draco would have taught him how.
So it wasn't all evil scheming. She had thought they would be good for each other.
"I know he thought he did." Draco said, a little angry. He knew the love Harry had for him wasn't real.
Okay maybe that was too reductive, too mean. It was real, but not for Draco himself but an idea of who he should be, and that was the problem. He had been ready to love Harry back, he thought, before he had realized he was in love with Ron, but Harry had never let him do it his way.
"He'll get over me. If there's something Harry is, is resilient. He'll realize I'm all kinds of wrong, all kinds of everything he doesn't need from a partner. I just wish it didn't mean Ron and him had to fight this way." He continued "And you? Hermione? Are you angry? You can, you should be angry at me, I've hurt Harry, but Ron is going to need you." Draco said and it was mostly a plea. It pained him to have to do it but it was for the man he loved.
"Do you think..." He sighed and looked at the window, the weather outside having turned appropriately grim. "Do you think they'll be okay?"
"Ron will be."
Harry's the one Hermione worried about. She shrugged. She's seen enough times what fights between those two were like. Ron was Harry's anchor. But they weren't children anymore, and Ron couldn't always share his life so Harry could feel fulfilled with his. Again, she thought how much better it would have been had everything worked itself out: She would be back with Ron, and Harry would be with someone who was just his.
She wanted to be mad.
She wanted to feel cheated.
Hermione was too much a realist. "Ron doesn't need me. Ron's never really needed anyone. That prat's got all these insecurities about himself, but you know it, right? They're not really as deep as he thinks they are. People always choose his side, and he'll always have his family. And now he
has you. Can I still be friends with him? You... you won't try to stop it, won't you?"
Ron just wanted to be seen.
Draco had never disappointed him in that front. Not even when they were eleven.
Draco frowned hard. "You really think that of me?"
He had thought Hermione and him were friends as well, perhaps not too close, not as much as he had become with Dean and Seamus for example, but he had assumed she knew he wasn't as much of a prick as he used to be.
"I'd never...ever, try to stop Ron from doing whatever he wants. Wouldn't end well for me. Like you just said." He added and then took a deep breath as he watched her.
He just needed to try harder with her. He had, after all, hurt her a lot in the past, she probably had very bad memories of him and his blasted home and now...well he had taken Ron for himself too.
There were amends to be made, still. He'd forever have to do that, but the difference was, now, he didn't feel forced to, he just wanted to.
"Hermione... lets go out tomorrow. Just you and me. There's a new museum that opened." He said.
She smiled.
She nodded.
Hermione was about to say more, but movement outside her window caused her to turn again. She knew who it would be, though. The flash of red before she turned to look was the giveaway; the red of his hair was hard to miss, especially in such dreary a night. When Ron knocked on their window, blew on the glass and wrote a question mark on the fogged surface, she spoke in a low tone of voice, more for herself than Draco.
"It'll be alright."
Draco rolled his eyes at Ron before smiling. "Yeah, I think so too."
Chapter End Notes
Just the Epilogue to go guys! I hope you've been enjoying this so far.
Epilogue
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
A year goes fast when you're neck deep setting up a business in a foreign country, learning the language, giving the middle finger at dumbfucks who won't leave them alone, and also going to the gym to gain muscle because he found he enjoyed lifting Draco up in all sorts of standing up position in front of mirrors because he's perverted and Draco has given up trying to be embarrassed. Draco said he was lucky he was so cute.
For a while, no one could deal with the reality that Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy were dating. They got ripped in all the papers, but Ron met it openly, and had his friends and his family rally around them. Harry may have been reluctant to use connections, but Ron's learning business savvy and the world was their fucking oyster now.
He kisses Draco in public.
There were pictures of them on the Eifel Tower, nose to nose, eyes closed.
Too many times, he fucks Draco in alleyways, spells of protection all around them. Pulsing all around them. Sometimes, they don't use spells. Ron was constantly doing daily assaults on etiquette, and Draco had to decide which of his upbringings got to go when face to face with Ronald Weasley's sex-drive. The blond's slutty new reality. Pure escape. No judgment.
And Ron cooks Draco breakfast, and dinner. Sings a song as he bakes treacle tarts. And when Draco wanders into the kitchen, Ron grabs him and whirls him and they dance. And they kiss. And they make love. Draco's grin is a thousand megawatts of joy with a target on it, directly at which all the bombs, and hexes, and curses, and weapons of the world are pointed. Ron and him set up shields and wards, and they fall asleep watching the fire on the fireplace, their fingers entwined.
Once upon a time, a year and a half ago, their friendship was real and brittle and fun. Ron told Draco of a moment, when they were watching some lame ass show on the telly, and how Draco smiled over his shoulder at him, and the actor on TV asked 'Who was it?', and Ron realized he has no idea. He has never met this Draco, who was dancing in front of him, to some crazy muggle music; he does his dance, and escapes. Ron remembered how the lights played across Draco's face in slow motion.
It's human nature to be free.
And no matter how long you try to be good, you can't keep a bad boy down.
That was the day he realized who Draco was. He's a construction, a performance, with his schemes and his insults, and his bitches and all of these things, that one can forget who's in there. Trying to be good – and really, good for him – but Draco was scared, and everything keeps interrupting a thousand times, and the whole time he's trying to say something very simple, which has very little to do with turning into a good guy, or Harry, or any of it. And nobody has ever looked at him the way that Harry was looking at him.
And nobody has looked at him the way Ron was looking at him then. (edited)
Ron's obsession with weight training for the past year makes sense in light of the activity he and Draco were currently engaged him.
Ron thrust from behind, arm muscles flexed as he kept his lover up by his legs, hooking them under Draco's knees, so that the blond was lifted waist up from the floor, his arsecheeks spread open by the lewd position, his legs spread wide open, his dick flopping at every hard push up from behind, Ron's dick sliding in an out and easily viewed for their pleasure. It helped Draco was using the mirror in front of him to hold himself aloft.
It helped there was a mirror.
Ron's become obsessed with mirrors.
Sometimes, it's like this. Mindless rutting, where Ron can't seem to get his carnal feelings in control. All his perverted dreams now possible, Ron pushed for boundaries. Visuals matter. He can't get enough of seeing Draco in his arms, Draco blurring in his arms. Prim and proper Draco Malfoy, his butthole assaulted in all ways possible. Something about territory, about having a mark on him. The marks of love. He wants all touches from past lovers dismissed from Draco's memory. Panting hard, he hoisted Draco up, groaning at the hard slap of the man's arse on his pubic area, loving the weight of him. The dragon on his back would not stop moving.
"Fuck, baby. Fuck, you're so beautiful."
Soon, Ron won't be able to keep it up. He won't have the right frame of mind to keep looking, keep watching himself do this to Draco.
Soon it's all just feeling, just wants and needs of the body.
Draco would be pushed flushed to the mirror, Ron using it as more leverage to do what he wanted to do.
He wanted Draco undone.
"You love me, right?" he asked, as he did a particularly long, hard thrust.
Around them, his childhood room seemed to steam with the heat coming from their lovemaking.
There was not much in Draco's mind but Ron, Ron, Ron.
It's usually that way too, the redhead always managing to keep everything from his mind but the feeling of being spread open and owned. That good burning. His heartbeat going just a little bit too fast, too much.
But Draco loves it. He wanted this for too long, wanted and needed someone to take control, to show him just how good life could be, when you're not worried about anything else but the person you're with, and said person only cares about you.
He was grasping at that mirror, his knuckles white and his fingertips numb. This mirror thing? It wasn't something he knew he wanted but being able to see what is done to him, to see his body flush and tremble with every movent of Ron's just serves to drive him more towards the edge.
Draco could only keen softly at his words at the hard thrust, arching his back more against Ron, hips moving in tandem.
"L-love you. Please...please...please..pl..." A hit right to his prostate shut him up and he let out a
scream. Thankfully they remembered their silencing charms because this would definitely get him uninvited to any more family events.
But even if it was so, it was not like Draco would care, not with the way every movement of Ron's cock inside him brushed so perfectly on that sweet spot, on how it hurt so good when he was particularly rough about it.
"Fuck...I'm yours...I'm yours, tell me I am..."
Outside, just a minute ago they heard the insistent mewling of a disappointed Victoire. She'd caught them midway their lovemaking, knocking insistently and demanding to be let in. Ron didn't necessarily like audiences, and the idea of a child so close to where they were going at it wasn't a turn on. But Ron has never been able to turn himself off when mid-fuck with his lover. He doesn't have choices, he has hungers.
"That's right, Draco. You're mine. Look, watch how I fuck you. Don't close your eyes, just watch. Bloody hell."
He told Draco, no one had been with his like this. Only Draco had been invited in, to a place nobody knows about; Ron's never done this with other lovers, asking for an invitation into Draco's own secret place that he just knows is there.
Perverted together.
Merlin, he loves this man so much.
Biting on the crook of Draco's, he slowly lowered his legs and when both feet were firmly placed, he asked Draco to bend over just enough so he can watch them both. "I gotta do this fast, luv," he gasped apologetically. They both knew he'll make up for it later. (edited)
Draco had tuned out any sounds from outside, because at some point he could only hear his own blood rushing in his ears and the slapping of flesh.
He was in his own perfect world.
"Yours...yours..." He kept repeating like a mantra and it shouldn't be a good thing, to want it like that, to want someone to possess you in such a way, but it is what he wanted and he would not hide it. Others, he knew, would judge this, say it was demeaning perhaps but they didn't understand.
Because Draco knows, when Ron took him this way, when he made him his, Draco felt safer than he ever had before.
Powerful.
Wanted.
Now, unlike in the past, Draco does as he is told, but it's because he wants to.
He nodded frantically. He knew Ron was close, but he was so close too, a couple more thrusts only, separating him from bliss. "Give it to me, fill me, I want to feel it."
Kneading Draco's ass open, urging Draco to keep watching while he did what he did to feel sated.
"Are you ready?" Ron checked in, always. Perverted as fuck, but also, he was courtly. Ron wanted the connection. The give and the take. It only took another moment for Ron to be at it, sliding in an
out at a frantic pace once he got the grunt of approval to start. Sliding out, he'd slammed back in, hard, both of them moaning at the movement.
They come undone together.
Sex with Draco means no control, that's what Ron has come to find. They both tried, at the beginning, to try and control it. In the end, they just let their inhibitions loose. The terror of intimacy is trust, and Ron told Draco early in, "I trust you with my life, with my secrets."
Outside, Victoire threatened to tell on them, that they won't open the door for her.
——————
"Is it bad I want you to smell like you've just been screwed hard?" Ron asked Draco. They were tangled on the floor. Ron has yet to pull out, liking the feel of his softening dick surrounded by that sticky warmth. (edited)
Draco chuckled. He was feeling sated, his skin still too sensitive, and he could feel Ron's cum dripping out of him, and it should be filthy and disgusting.
It almost made him want to go again already.
"Only because we're supposed to go down and meet your family." He said, a silly smile on his face. "But I'll tell you what, I'll keep my hair all messed up, just so you can remember it when you look at me."
But Ron was already sucking Draco's neck, marking him.
He's like a teen boy, with his desire to make it known Draco was his.
The beautiful and the faithful, together forever. We all just want to be seen. To matter.
When he was done, Ron tightened his hold and whispered, "I love you."
Draco's eyes closed at the small sting of Ron's mark, but when it was done he reached for it, touching it with his fingers. He loves them, these small statements.
"I love you." He answered, curling himself back against the redhead.
Just a few more stolen minutes together.
"How's your ass, best friend?" Ginny asked cheekily as soon as she spotted Draco coming down the stairs.
"No idea what you're talking about, dear." He said, but his smirk and his tousled locks said otherwise.
"Thank merlin for silencing spells huh?" George said as he walked past Draco and slapped Ron on the back.
Ron grinned.
Hermione, Harry and Percy did not. But Ginny caught sight of Harry's grimace and reminded Harry he could barely walk straight when he came down the same stairs earlier. Bill, his hands busy
covering Dominique's ears, groaned.
"I swear, I'm going to get even with you lot when you all have kids," the curse breaker promised.
That's when Ginny announced she wasn't going to have children.
It was Draco's turn to grimace and shoot a worried look towards the kitchen, where Molly was busy cooking. "Well, to be fair, there will be enough Weasleys to cover for that. Soon enough, more gingers than you can count." He sighed, pretending to be upset by that, but truly, he had thought about it himself, just hadn't talked to Ron yet.
He smiled at his boyfriend and sat down on the couch, immediately followed by George who handed him a suspicious looking gift. Draco threw it at a wal and it exploded in a glittery mess. "You'll have to do better than that." He said smugly.
This was them, when they visit the Burrow. Three generations of Weasleys and the ones who will be added in the family tree sooner than later, all waiting for when Molly announced food was ready. Hermione had felt self-conscious, thinking she wasn't deserving of the invitation, but Molly extended it to her willingly.
From the kitchen, Charlie can be heard arguing with his mother about how his omelet will be superior, with Molly sputtering about the nerve of her son thinking to change the menu. Predictively, he was booted out. A spatula followed him as he ran to where Harry was, knowing using his boyfriend as a shield would make the spatula stop it's assault.
It's strange, how everything worked out.
Harry tried to get away. He wasn't dumb enough to stand in the way of Molly when she was brandishing her weapons. No one was.
"Oh no! You don't use me as a shield Charles. No!" He cried out, but the redhead's arms were muscular and long and would not let him go. It had taken him a while to realize that was exactly what he needed. To have someone like Charlie, who could whisk him away to a different country whenever the pressure was too great, who treated him as an equal, and who never took any of his shit.
"I hate you." Harry said, going limp, but with a smile on his lips, just as Molly hit both his arm and Charlie's with the dreaded spatula. "Everyone behave! You are like a pack of wild animals before eating." She huffed, but there was obvious fondness on her face when she looked around at her family all together on christmas morning. A wave of her wand and the plates on the table were filled with all the goodies she had been preparing, just in time for Arthur to walk in, snow on his hair and coat and join them all.
From his seat, Draco shot Ron a loving look. He wondered if this was going to be his life from now on. He hoped so.
Then the spatula hit him and Ron next.
And Bill raised his fist in triumph, because "That's right, Mum! Show these degenerates they can't just do whatever they want when there are kids around!"
"Welcome to the family," Ron murmured to Draco, as he rubbed the spot the spatula hit. "Didn't hurt, right? I think it went light on you."
Draco winced but shook his head, just as Molly turned around, a smile on her face and started to
fuss over the table. "She just likes me more, obviously." He said, smirking, before standing up and walking over to the kitchen "I'll get the drinks."
Harry was already in there. He was levitating the bottles though they were clinking together and threatening to break. "Let me." Draco said as he picked up four of them, cradling them against his chest. Another four remained. "We hadn't seen you since Hermione's birthday... Romania?"
"Yes. I'm...," Harry shrugged, self-conscious but also pleased, as if a memory evoked by the mention of the place brought him back to someplace cherished and wanted. "I like it there. How's your apprenticeship? Ron told me it was going well, but that bloke's always saying everything is fine."
Draco smiled warmly at Harry. When the news that he was dating Charlie had reached him, he had been initially surprised, but after, it made so much sense and it also left him feeling relieved. He hadn't wanted to hurt Harry, but he had done so, which meant that knowing he had found happiness after, and with a Weasley, no less, was so great.
"I imagine, it must be a great change from all the stress of the job. Though I can't imagine dragons are that much easier. Ron's told me about his stint there as well. I know I couldn't do it." He chuckled. "And it's going well, difficult, don't get me wrong but, I love it anyway." Draco added and then remembered something Ron had mentioned earlier that day, it having been erased from memory momentarily after their, rambunctious night. "I heard McGonnagal asked you to go back to teach? Is that true?"
Again, that same smile. But there's more warmth there. More joy. Hogwarts, Harry's true home.
"Charlie said, if I ever decide to teach for good, he'll consider moving to work in the school. Hagrid's already so happy. He burst into tears when I told him. I almost felt jealous how much he liked the idea of Charlie living close to him."
They both chuckled.
Then Harry turned serious, and looked away for a moment, to where Ron and George were trying to appease a pouting Victoire. "Draco, I never apologized for before. At least not properly." He looked back at Draco. "I'm sorry I got in the way."
Draco frowned and shook his head before putting the bottles down carefully on the counter and walking over to Harry. He put his hand on his shoulder.
"Harry..." There was a sad smile on his face, but it was more than that, there was happiness there too, hope. And most of all, no resentment.
"We're all here aren't we? We're all happy. You didn't get in the way, we were all so..." Draco paused, searching for the words. "We wanted things we didn't understand. We're all at fault for not understanding it quicker."
And then he awkwardly hugged Harry who chuckled again, and hugged back.
"Yes, yes, you're both idiots. Now come on, I'm starving and mum won't let us start without you two." Charlie said, leaning on the doorway, an amused look on his face, Ron peeking from behind him.
Harry grinned, and went to Charlie, the two of them close together.
Ron held out a hand.
The hand was big, the fingers long. But unlike his, they were calloused from his efforts at the muggle gym Ron had been frequenting.
Draco took it.
He'd always take it.
Together, the four of them walked back to the table where everyone else was waiting.
Chapter End Notes
This is the end of this fic.
I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as we loved writing it.
Please keep leaving your comments and kudos, we love to read them so much and it makes us want to continue writing for you guys.
We already have a couple of new fics in the works and perhaps at some point a different ship too... don't Ron and Draco's dads seem to always butt heads...too much? ;D
Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their /works/36596359/comments/new
Stay
When it started
If I leave, will you miss me?
Strawberry and Cream afternoon delight
Bubbling under the surface
The Masochism Tango
The boy with the dragon tattoo
Burrow
On hand and foot
The thread breaks
Bright lights and revelations
He needed me
Climax
Granger
Epilogue
