Hate

Summary: Ron and Draco had a hate so strong, it could not be knocked down by anything. Sex, war, wives, whatever they faced, the hate stayed strong and did not burn down. Join me for spring break with allieweasley in the story of Hate. Watch out homophobics, it's slash, and you wouldn't like that, would you?

A/N - Remember to read the author's note at the bottom.

The Drabbles

Title: Draco can draw

Time: seventh year

"You can draw?"

"Of course I can draw," Draco said, raising an eyebrow at Ron. They were sitting in the library with Harry and Hermione, who were trying their best to ignore the two.

"Draw what, exactly?"

"Would you like to see?"

"No."

"How do you expect me to show you?"

"Hn…you can model for me."

Harry's face unwillingly turned red. He began reciting a list of important magical laws Hermione had given him in a loud voice in an attempt to drown Ron and Draco's conversation.

"You know, Weasley, they sometimes say that artists prefer raw human nature. They fancy their art bare, very natural, and nothing to cover up or disguise. You follow me?"

"Mmhmm."

Any slash fangirl would have loved this moment, watching two very hot boys discussing… such things, but unfortunately, Hermione was not a slash fangirl. She was a young woman who wished to pass, no, ace the N.E.W.T.'s. She wished to exceed everyone else in their testing and shine above her peers, and she did not like the annoyance of her best friend and her hated rival discussing…such things.

Draco had begun to doodle on his parchment. For a short while, Ron pretended not to be interested, but curiosity overcame him and he walked over and peered over Draco's shoulder. He let out a low whistle.

"Harry! Harry, come and look at—"

"Ah! Will you look at the time! I just remembered, I have to go meet someone. Er, Dobby, so I'll see you guys later," Harry said, standing up and gathering his books. Hermione sent him a pleading look, but he ignored her and rushed away.

"Hey, wait a minute," Ron said, studying Draco's doodle. He pointed to something. "That's not supposed to be that big. Or that long."

"You're delusional."

"No, you drew that wrong. Don't be stupid, Malfoy, I've seen it myself. Make it shorter."

"So what are you implying?"

"I'm implying nothing. You're just conceited."

"Look who's talking."

"Me? I just tell the truth, I don't show off."

"Of course not." Draco snorted. "Weasley, you flaunt your goodies like a whore."

"Goodies? Whore? You—"

"I think Dobby would like to see me too," Hermione said in a high voice. And she ran out of the library without even bringing her books with her.

Title: Nonhuman

Time: sixth year

Draco collapsed on top of Ron, sweating and panting. He had been given the opportunity to be the top, the alpha, and his eagerness had used up his stamina quickly. But truly, he did not care much, he enjoyed this feeling of control and authority. And to see the beautiful red head moaning and tossing his head like a bitch, his bitch, gave him much encouragement.

Draco did not feel like coming out of Ron, so the boys rolled on their sides. Ron kept his legs loosely around Draco's waist, quite the opposite from Draco, who usually wrapped his legs tightly around Ron's waist as if it was his anchor to life. Draco was the first one who spoke.

"Congratulations, pauper, you were ruddy brilliant," He said.

Ron took a moment to catch his breath before he spoke. "Nyah, you're better, you're more feminine."

"You're jealous of my handsome features," Draco said. Though he was as out of breath as Ron, he showed no physical sign of struggling for air. The Slytherin kept a cool, contained composure through everything, sex included.

Ron stretched, arching his back and letting out a relaxed noise. Draco watched intently with his stormy eyes. Ron glanced at him and smiled. Those eyes were why Draco looked so damn girly. They weren't ugly, they were beautiful and delicate, perfectly shaped and framed with elegant lashes. Much too beautiful.

"Too pretty," Ron mumbled, lightly running a finger on Draco's jaw line. Draco arched an eyebrow. Another thing that was too perfect, too beautiful.

"Are you really complaining?"

"No," Ron said. And it was true. He enjoyed staring at Draco's pretty face as he would slam into him, since that was one of the few things he felt good in doing and was sure he was good at too. At those times, however, his features did not look painted on, they looked more beautiful when the eyes were half-open and dark with desire, when his mouth was open and issued so many moans. He looked more human then.

"You don't look human when I'm not fucking you," Ron said bluntly.

"Is it a good thing or a bad thing?" Draco said, smirking. "To not look human."

"Bad thing."

"Well then, I suppose you'll have to do it more often," Draco said. He had a devious look in his eyes. "You know, Weasel, I'm not all that tired. Are you?"

"Not at all, Ferret," Ron said. Draco slid out of Ron and rolled onto his back. He opened up his legs, where Ron settled in between. He positioned his hardening staff in front of Draco's entrance and was ready to begin when he remembered something.

"I hate you," Ron reminded him.

"I hate you, too."

Title: Promise? Tchea right!

Time: five-years-old

The child Ron watched his father glare the strange blonde-haired man out of the house.

"Daddy, who was that?" He said curiously.

"That was…someone who you should never associate yourself with," Arthur Weasley said curtly. There was a scurrying in the background and his eyes shot up in alert. "And no matter how much you can hate him," He called out, "You should never bombard him with stink bombs, or dung bombs, or any sort of bomb when he enters a house as a guest."

Seven-year-old Fred and George stepped out, scowling. "Dad! Come on…"

"We only wanted a laugh."

"Wouldn't have been that big of a deal."

"You always said Lucius Malfoy was so uptight he probably had something stuck up in his arse."

"What's that?" Ron said. "What does arse mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything," Mr. Weasley snapped. "Boys, where did you learn that word? No, on second thought, I don't want to know, just…grab a bite to eat. Your mum's going to be home late, so meanwhile I need you to de-gnome the garden. Shoo!"

He waved the twins away, then stood there in the middle of the room, deep in thought.

"Daddy?" Ron tentatively asked. He knew his father did not get mad often, but when he did, he was perhaps more intimidating then his mummy. "Daaaddy," Ron said in a more whining noise.

Mr. Weasley sighed and turned around to face his youngest son. "Ron, promise me you'll never associate with Malfoys."

"But why—"

"It'll make your life a lot easier," Mr. Weasley said. "Trust me, son, you don't want to mess around with the Malfoy family."

Ron never sealed that promise. He was too curious to say yes.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N – I have a few more ideas for drabbles, but from here on the drabbles will be mostly from reviewer's ideas and requests. So thank you to whoever is reading this, since this is at the bottom of the page and you had to have read my drabbles already. Unless you're abnormal, but no offense if you are. Just review and I'll love you for that. n-n