The next morning was spent leisurely getting ready for the day and heading separately to breakfast. Draco had awoken in the exact same position he'd drifted off in, and it was nice to peer up at a still-sleeping Harry. Everything in the world had seemed to finally find its place. In the Room of Requirement, he and Harry had found their own tiny piece of heaven, and it was its own challenge to have to leave it.
When the time did come, they separated with a kiss, and then another, and a promise to do this again as soon as possible. There was an exchange of "I love you's" and exceptionally wide grins that reflected just how happy they had become. Draco left first, and then Harry with the invisibility cloak, you know, just in case.
They arrived at breakfast separately, with just enough time in between to remain inconspicuous. To everyone, that is, except Hermione, who was eating alone at the far end of the Gryffindor table.
"Hermione," Harry sat across from her with a wide smile. She immediately looked up from her breakfast to greet him and grinned shyly.
"How was your night?" She spoke lowly, out of earshot for the rest of the House.
Harry sighed happily, sparing Hermione the details. "Amazing."
He glanced at her rosy cheeks and accepting nod, then noticed her solitude. "Where's Ron?"
"Sleeping, I guess. I haven't seen him all morning."
"Hm." He pondered the thought of Ron's absence before deciding that the bloke had probably just stayed up a bit too late. Moving forward, he took a bite of his toast.
Draco noticed that the Weasel was missing from his normal post with the trio that morning. He normally would've brushed it off, had he noticed at all, but for some reason the absence struck him as odd. There was a small, subtle knot in the pit of his stomach, and he wasn't sure why. Swallowing his oats, he vowed to himself to see the situation through. He seemed more sensitive than ever to Harry's needs, and there was definitely something awry. He made small talk with Nott to pass the time, keeping a keen eye on his partner all the while.
After breakfast, Harry headed back to the common room to catch up on some homework before class Monday. Hermione followed suit, inches behind him as they entered the portrait hole. Slouched in one of the chairs before them was Ron, elbow propped on the arm rest and supporting his face, which was rested uncomfortably against his palm. He had a sour air about him, an almost bitter expression plastered between freckles.
"Ron?" Harry questioned, stepping forward cautiously. He didn't bat an eye, staring ahead aimlessly. He shared a worried glance with Hermione before coming closer. "Are you ok?"
Ron's eyes flickered to meet Harry's before he abruptly sat up. Harry jumped at the sudden movement.
"Where were you last night?" He interrogated, brow furrowed and ginger face reddening.
"I was... out, Ron. I thought we'd talked about this." Harry put both hands up as if to call for truce.
"I know. But I've been thinking. And it's kind of a slap in my face that you won't tell me. When you didn't come in last night, I was worried. I mean the bloody dark lord is after your arse, and here you are disappearing and not even caring about your friends!" His voice had risen, an expression of hurt crossing his features that was quickly replaced by ire.
"Ron, I'm sorry. I didn't think-"
"I know you didn't! The only person you thought about was yourself and your own desire to get shagged!"
There was a dead silence, the air filled with pain-causing tension. Harry's mouth was agape, horribly surprised that his friend would- could- stoop so low. Coming to his senses, shock dissolved rapidly into anger.
"First of all, it's not even like that! You have no idea how I feel about... them!" Luckily, there wasn't a soul in the common room. Harry found his own voice booming, confrontation blooming between them.
"I know that you care about her more than you care about us! Tell him, Hermione! Tell him he's in the wrong!"
Hermione's eyes widened, unexpectedly dragged into the argument. "Ronald! This isn't fair! For your information, I happen to give Harry my support on this one!"
Ron stood angrily. "You too!? What is wrong with you guys lately? That's it. Harry, if you don't tell me who you're seeing, we're done."
"Ron!" Piped Hermione, "Don't do this to him. This isn't fair of you!"
"What happened to you waiting until I was ready to tell? What happened to you being understanding, Ron? It was just yesterday, for Merlin's sake!" Harry gritted his teeth, blood pumping through his veins almost audibly.
"Yeah, well I changed my mind! I've had some time to think, and that's my final answer. Tell me, or I'll assume you don't give a rat's arse about me."
"Ron, please!" Hermione was very involved now, begging her friend to see reason. She knew he had the ability to not be so bigoted, and it pained her to see him flush his friendship away. She didn't want to be torn between them, but it always ended up that way. She sighed, tears surfacing.
"I can't tell you, Ron. If I tell you, it'll hurt them. Their life could be at stake. Please, Ron. I need you to understand." Harry pleaded, longing. He never wanted this to come between their friendship. Guilt pelted his insides, wrenched his gut. Ron could be unreasonable at times, but he was Harry's best friend, and the pain was all the same.
"What, so you're telling me that Voldemort is after THEM too!? This is getting ridiculous, Harry. How am I supposed to believe you!?" They were definitely yelling now.
"Because he's telling the truth." The trio turned abruptly toward the owner of such a statement. No one had heard the portrait hole open. No one had heard the sound of the anonymous being behind them enter the room. And at the sight of such person, all three mouths dropped.
Before them stood Draco Malfoy, arms crossed in a slightly frustrated manor, brow lifted amusingly.
For a moment, no one spoke. There wasn't as much of a twitch of a muscle for what felt like an endlessness. Ron was the first to break the silence.
"How the fuck did he get in here?"
Hermione and Harry remained too shocked to move and lacked the explanation that Ron demanded.
"Please, Weasley. I know where your common room is. Plus, it turns out the Fat Lady doesn't mind helping a Slytherin in if it's for a good cause."
Ron's face had morphed from red to purple. He tried to form words but stumbled over his own anger. His next phrase was literally spat much more than intended.
"So what the FUCK are you doing here?"
"Calm down, Ron." Harry started at the sound of Draco referring to him by first name. Hermione remained frozen.
"Don't tell me to CALM DOWN, MALFOY! Harry and I were just having an important conversation before you broke into our common room!"
Draco rolled his eyes at Ron's ignorance and unfolded his arms. He used his hands to demonstrate his statement, palms supinated in the air with annoyance. "That's WHY I'm here, Ron."
Ron glanced back and forth from Malfoy to Potter rapidly, forming conclusions in his mind.
"So, YOU know who he's been sneaking off with, too!? YOU, of all people, ferret!?" He turned to Harry, pointing a finger a few inches from his face. "If he knows, we are DONE."
"Ron, stop!" Hermione shrieked. "Draco is trying to tell you something! Why don't you listen?" She always was the voice of reason, and Harry was thankful for her presence.
"What is it, Malfoy?" His voice was almost poisonous. Draco stepped closer to Ron, confrontation at its finest.
"I am the reason he hasn't told you." Ron looked him up and down, unwavering.
"So what are you blackmailing him or something? I swear, Malfoy, I will HEX you!" Ron pulled out his wand, pointing it at Malfoy's chest. Harry called out, but Draco didn't move an inch.
"THIS is why he hasn't told you. In addition to my life being at stake, and all. Just LOOK at how you're reacting. And you haven't even figured it out yet!"
"Figured what out!?" He pushed his wand into Malfoy's chest, bruising skin beneath cotton.
"That it's me!" Draco had a way of passionately getting his point across, of splitting any theory you'd been attempting to prove, without even raising his voice.
"Draco, no!" What was he doing? Harry was having a hard time coping with the present moment. Draco wasn't ready to tell anyone, and who knew how Ron was going to handle this? What had changed? And how had he known to come to Harry's rescue?
Flashbacks ran through his mind of dreams coated in darkness, of Draco arriving at precisely the right moment to save him from his father. Little had changed in this reality, and Harry was taken aback by the sudden revelation.
"That what's you?" Ron lowered his wand, staring at Draco stupidly.
"I'm in love with your best friend. There, I said it. If you love Harry even a fraction of what I do, if he really is a brother to you, than you'll be a bit more understanding."
Ron cowered slightly, the words finally coming to light. Draco held his ground, strong in all defense, strong for Harry.
"I, wha, you, and, you, and... him?" He turned to Harry, who nodded solemnly. Ron turned around, still processing. He paced a bit before taking a seat in the chair behind him.
"And you're okay with this?" He asked Hermione confusedly. She took a deep inspiration before answering.
"Yes. There's a lot at stake, for both of them. But... yes. They have my support." She turned to Draco, who smiled weakly at her grace.
"What in the bloody hell is happening!? Is the world ending? Hermione! Is the world ending?" Ron seemed to be calming down, anger melting to confusion and an unwillingness to believe what was before him.
"Draco," Harry spoke softly, "What made you change your mind?"
"I don't care anymore, Harry. After last night, I... you're worth it to me. At all costs."
Harry thought that he was going to melt right then and there, transformed into a pile of useless goo that would seep throughout the floor boards.
"Plus," Draco added, "I had a feeling that this one was getting close to throwing away your friendship over me. I know how much you care about him. I couldn't let that happen." At this, Ron's blue eyes met Draco's face.
"You, you're really together?" Ron asked again, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Yes, Ronald! It's nice when two people express their feelings for each other, isn't it? When they aren't afraid to make that connection?"
Ron gazed at her, almost knowingly, shock degrading his comprehension.
"But I thought he was a Death Eater?"
"I told you, Ron. I was wrong about that." Harry shifted closer to Draco, taking his hand.
"So, What? What if he turns you in to Voldemort? Will you want to shag him then, Harry?"
"You ignorant, pretentious, little-" Draco stepped forward, prepared to let no one and nothing insult Harry. Harry put his hand in front of Draco, stopping him from edging forward.
"He won't," was all he replied with, a simple and confident answer.
Ron looked at the wall, then back at the couple before him. "Im your best mate! I can't believe I didn't even... I didn't even know you were gay! You could've come and talked to me. You didn't have to go running to him." His words were like a particularly sharp knife, twisting its way through Harry's stomach.
"I didn't go 'running to him,' Ron," Harry started, taking a deep breath. "I didn't even know, or I would have told you. I know this is a huge shock to you. But there's nothing I can do to change this. So... you're either with me, or you're not."
Hermione's gasp was the only audible break to the silence that ensued. Draco wrapped a protective arm around Harry's waist, and Ron's disgusted expression gave him away.
"I just, I can't handle this right now, Harry. I need time to think." Ron dramatically rose and made his exit to the dormitory without another glance in their direction.
"That went better than it could have," observed Hermione after Ron was away. "He hasn't completely rejected the idea. He just needs to mull it over. Give him a few days." She placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder and gave Draco a sympathetic look before crossing the room to a table in the far corner, where she began to pull out her study materials.
"I need to study, too," Draco commented. "Care to join me in the library?"
"Yes, of course. I'll get my things." Without a glance in Ron's direction, Harry rushed into the dormitory for his book bag. The red head was lying on his bed, eating a chocolate frog and staring at his newest Quidditch poster along the wall next to him.
Everything was the same, and yet so different. Ron knew at the deepest, most cavernous part of his being that Harry was his best friend and that ultimately he wouldn't allow anything to destroy that friendship. Even if that thing was the Malfoy ferret himself. Ron just wasn't sure exactly where down the line he'd lost Harry. He thought he knew him so well, so much that he'd be willing to bet on it. (Which says a lot, because he didn't carry much on him these days.) Now, he was going downstairs to spend time with sodding Malfoy and to probably kiss him and- bleh- Ron didn't want to think about it. He wanted to preserve his world, the one in which he and Harry split the trolley treats on the train. The one in which they'd stolen the Ford Anglia and almost been expelled for their rash stupidity. The world in which it was Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and not even the Dark Lord himself could defeat them. And now, here was Draco, splitting them down the middle in a line so jagged that Ron wasn't sure it would fix.
Harry closed the door behind him after grabbing his books, and Ron realized just how jealous of Harry's secret lover he'd become. There were never any untold things between them, until now. And now that the truth was out there- really, blatantly out there- there was no reducing their world back to three. Part of the reason he'd waited so long to tell Hermione that he was crazy about her was his fear of breaking up the group. And here Harry was, shagging Malfoy. The thought made him sick to his stomach. It was utterly putrid, what they were doing, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to accept it. He sighed ruefully before placing his pillow over his face. Eventually, he'd have to.
But for now, he'd settle for a nap.
