Title: Black and Deep Desires

By: Dr. Kim-chan

(Everyone is in a classroom. I'm at the front of the room with a yardstick. The front desks are occupied by Draco, Ron, Harry, and Lucius. Harry has his plushie on the desk.)

Draco: Why're we sitting in a classroom?

Me: Because we're having some confusion concerning the Malefecium Elixir. Let's break it down. (points to the blackboard) It's called "the serum of air" because when you drink it, it feels like you're taking in air, so it's totally undetectable. The drinker then suffers from rage and directs it at their friends and family. But this doesn't happen right away. Your temper deteriorates over a period of 3 months. You with me?

All 4: (nod)

Me: The next 27 days (the time it takes for the moon to go through the phases, hence "in a moon's week") is for the victim to find his or her true love and kiss them. The creator was both playing a trick and being cruel because he knew the victim would most likely kill them by then. By sheer luck, if you do, that's the end of it. However, if you don't, then whatever night the next new moon is, that's when you die. Now as a heads-up, there's a loophole in this that's crucial to the upcoming H/D subplot. Anyway, sorry for delaying the moment, but I am absolutely certain this time that Chapter 17 covers the exchange. It would've been in 16, but I couldn't leave everyone hanging, not knowing what Lucius and Ron's conversation was about. I believe you're also starting to notice that this is carrying shades of plot points from the Half-Blood Prince. Well, the real story's so damn compatible with what I'm doing I couldn't help myself. So…is Lucius ready to let go of Ron?

Lucius (mutters): Hell no.

Me: Rolling Chapter 17! (clicks remote)

(Begin Chap. 17)

…Business had been terrible this year. There had been days when Tom would be about ready to throw in the towel after seeing—for the umpteenth time—a scarce number of wizards enjoying a drink. Sometimes they weren't even enjoying it; they just sat there, worrying between sips.

But he couldn't leave the Leaky Cauldron, however shoddy it had become. It was the only business the grizzled old bartender had ever known…and no other experience could be traded in for all the ruckus which had taken place here recently. Granted a good part of it had been extremely dangerous, but what was wrong with a little excitement, a little adrenaline now and then? There used to be occasions when he wished for something to get shaken up around here. Maybe he had finally gotten his wish. Or maybe he was slowly going insane, like so many of his fellow wizardkind around him. Cooped up with these thoughts, Tom let out a sigh and continued cleaning goblets on one early Thursday afternoon.

He was waiting for another exciting installment of drama at the Leaky Cauldron. An owl had been sent to him not long ago from the Ministry of Magic (in fact Fudge himself), requesting his cooperation in something. All they needed was a room on the second floor for a few minutes with no disturbances. It was certainly all right with Tom. Barely anybody wanted to rent a room here nowadays. Yet what was particularly disconcerting was one line in the letter:

"We are attempting negotiations with a certain individual whose identity could cause further scare if publicly released. Therefore, we ask you to keep calm should this other party arrive at the location first. If he is not hiding his face, you may recognize him as Lucius Malfoy—"

Now that was strange. He read in the Daily Prophet a few months back that Malfoy had been sent to Azkaban Prison with a very heavy fine and proper restrictions for those who desired to set him free and give him another chance. Someone actually went through and saved his neck?

Suddenly there was a noise. Tom checked a nearby clock. 2:45 p.m. Well, it wasn't three o' clock yet. Thinking it was a customer at long last, he casually walked up to the front of the bar. When the door opened, however, he quickly dashed back to the far end of the counter, pretending not to notice a mysterious figure hidden by a dark green cloak. He knew without even having to guess that it was the 'other party'. Then Tom kept looking and was further surprised: following him was a redhaired young man a little overdressed for a visit to Diagon Alley. It was a while before Tom could put his finger on it. It was the close friend of the Boy Who Lived, one of the Weasley children. What was he doing with him, and with such fancy clothes?

Wait. The day of You-Know-Who's raid. He had overheard something about a hostage being taken by Malfoy. Yes, it all made sense now. They were about to take him back. Tom huffed as the pair made their way to the designated room. If there were to be more Aurors making a mess of the place, he'd be sure to make one hell of a formal complaint to the Ministry.

…2:58 p.m. The bell attached to the door jangled as someone else entered, this time followed by three others. Unlike the other group, they walked up to the bar first. Tom set down his glass and leaned onto the bar, goggling with interest at the people associated here: Arthur Weasley, Cornelius Fudge, a tall, balding black man with a small hoop earring, and a woman he'd never seen before.

"Hello, Tom. Sorry this isn't a more pleasant visit," Arthur apologized.

"We only have one question: has the owl delivered the letter?" the woman asked.

Code language which had been dictated by the letter. Tom leaned forward even more and whispered back, "He's perched and waiting right now. Flew in 'bout 2:45."

"Did he have the letter?"

"Yup."

Fudge looked at the other three. "Right then. Shacklebolt, you'll take your position by the door and assist if there's any trouble. We thank you for your help with all this, Tom, and remember to keep what you've seen and heard today under wraps."

Tom nodded as he went about his work again as the remaining three went to retrieve their hostage.

…Ron sat on the bed amidst uncomfortable silence, once in a while craning his head to see through the dirt-streaked window. There was an interesting mix on Lucius's face, and it both worried and saddened him. If not for this other issue he had to deal with once he returned to Hogwarts for his sixth year, he probably would've said 'yes'. Why he absolutely had to take care of this now? The same reason Lucius had taken him hostage in the first place. The wizarding world was getting too volatile, too unsure of itself. At least one could have some comfort in being sure of something, knowing that something good was waiting for them should one way turn ugly. Not only that, but one was also unsure of whether they'd either end up dead or alive tomorrow. Of course, Ron didn't want to just jump into Draco's father's arms—of all people—simply because of desperation.

Speaking of him, there could be a different side to the story. What if Lucius was just looking for someone to fill the newfound void in his life? What if this was all truly a ruse to gain his confidence? The answers to all those questions, he kept telling himself bravely, would be found out come December.

Meanwhile, Lucius stood guard over him, standing in such a way so that he could keep an eye on both the door and Ron—not that he believed for a second Ron would run away. If at all, he'd be more reluctant to leave with his own father. He had really gotten himself mixed up in something awful. A Death Eater enamored with the Chosen One's best friend? Was there a way to show Ron he was serious about this whole ordeal without actually running into deep misfortune with the Dark Lord? More importantly, in worst-case scenario, if his parents knew…if Potter knew…if the Dark Lord himself knew…well…

Lucius had planned to be at the Leaky Cauldron early, and he also wanted Ron to wear this outfit. It was similar to what Draco had worn the night the Zabinis arrived, but it had less lace, no crevasse at the front, and was a flattering shade of midnight blue. He was giving him that outfit as a gift…

"I like it a lot, but it's kinda weird to be giving me clothes as a goodbye present."

"I've held on to that outfit for a while, and I decided at the last minute to see how it looked on you. I'm pleased to see it looks much better than I thought. I want you to have it, to remind you how good you'd have it here. It was sort of a joy to take care of you. You appreciate what I have…I liked seeing you smile…"

"Oh, cheer up. Christmas isn't that far away. I could send you owls from time to time…"

"No. First it'd be too suspicious, and secondly I want you to decide about this with your own mind, without any distractions. If you really feel you should, then go to this other person first. I can't be there to dissuade you by any means. We both have to make sure this is real…"

Ron concealed a sniffle, Lucius cleared his throat, and the doorknob turned slowly. The door seemed to creak in slow motion as Fudge, Arthur, and Umira filed in, one by one. Arthur stole a glance at his son and was immediately stricken with a wave of relief. He didn't seem to be hurt or emotionally scarred at all, and at the same time it was a bit of a shock to see him dressed so extravagantly.

His eyes narrowing in an instant, Lucius stepped forward, not taking off the hood on his cloak.

"I trust that you've met my demands. The price is 1,500 for the Weasleys' son."

"We've met them well enough, Malfoy," Fudge replied crisply. "Wand where I can see it."

"As long as you do the same."

Fudge glanced at Umira, who did likewise to Arthur, who nodded back sternly. Every adult in the room brought out their hands from hiding, their wand in one hand. With extreme grace and care, they laid them by their feet (actually Lucius felt too self-conscious about laying his cane on the dusty floor and gave it to Ron to hold). Still feeling bitter from his mistakes, Fudge kept sending vicious glares at the once-captive man.

"Ron, put my cane carefully on the bed and get up," Lucius whispered softly. Unconsciously he held out his hand, and Ron took it gently as he got up from the bed. Arthur spotted the close gesture and raised a fiery eyebrow. Ron stared back for a quick second and felt uneasy. He hoped he wasn't suspicious of anything.

"Who is the one holding the money?"

Arthur stepped forward with a small chest. Kneeling on the floor, he opened it to showcase the piles of gleaming coins. Without having to be told, Ron suspected this was Harry's doing. No one else was that loaded. Closing it again, Mr. Weasley let the chest sit amid the gap, rose up and stepped back. The sadistic grin Ron had long forgotten returned to Lucius, making him shudder slightly. But it only lasted for a while.

Now here came the hardest part.

"Hmm. Everything seems to be in order. As promised, Arthur, you may have your son back."

Suddenly, the reality of it all snapped back to Ron, temporarily making him lose all common sense. He broke into a cold sweat and squeezed his now-former master's hand. It was the same hand that had frequently ran through his orange-red curls while the other would hold up his chin to prepare him for a kiss. It was that hand which held the blacksnake whip, which had consequently proved Lucius's true feelings. In an instant, he forgot about returning to his family. He was just another brother, just another sidekick. There was no way he could let go—

Then, just as suddenly, Lucius's hand affectionately squeezed back and loosened, flinging Ron forward in the process. Before he could fully comprehend what had happened, he was back with his father again, back on the good side…back on the side without him.

"You've told me that you'd be leaving first. Very well then. I thank you for the money and for lending Weasley's son to me. Be assured this is the last time we'll have to cross paths."

Fudge gave the slightest of nods and gruffly announced, "Let us only hope you'll be using that money in a way that won't land you in Azkaban yet again. Arthur, Shacklebolt'll see you and your son home. We'll be Disapparating."

With that, he and Umira slowly picked up their wands and Disapparated on the spot, two loud pops echoing in their wake. A second later Kingsley opened the door and ushered Ron and Arthur out. As he took one last look back, Lucius was standing there, immobile, looking down at the chest of money with staunch misery. And as if this situation wasn't terrible enough, with equal sadness, Ron realized one last terrible thing.

He couldn't say goodbye.

…"He was moping around the house for two weeks, Arthur! Are you sure nothing was wrong with him when you brought him back home?"

Yes. I just couldn't show it. But it was for the best.

"It could just be the shock of the whole experience. Going back to Hogwarts might set him straight again. He probably just needs more time."

Yeah, three months.

"You think Ron found out a little more about what Zabini's been up to?"

No. I was too busy worrying about Lucius.

"This weirds me out. This isn't the Ron I know. He's serious, depressed, he didn't come out of his room except to eat and use the bathroom…and just a few days ago he told me he was going to back out of his prefect duties for a while. He doesn't even want to boss around little kids anymore."

Not to mention I'm in love.

"I'm at quite a crossroads myself. What could he possibly be depressed about? I think he'd be overjoyed to be free from the Malfoys, Draco especially."

Draco, yes…

"Harry, Hermione, you two think you could do us a favor and try talking to him? I think you three need each other now more than ever."

What I need is to go back to the Malfoy Manor.

"He hasn't been very responsive so far, Mr. Weasley, but we'll try our best."

"All aboard! The Hogwarts Express is leaving shortly!"

Whistling steam streamed forth from a scarlet train, giving the familiar caution to those who were boarding it either to come back to Hogwarts or go there for the first time. There were a significantly smaller number of first-years on Platform 9 3/4 this year, which was certainly understandable. Meanwhile, Ron awoke briefly from his stupor, finished loading the rest of his things, and hurried to the nearest entrance. He had hoped to see Lucius here sending Malfoy back, but to no avail, which depressed him further.

A powerful nudge pressed on him from both sides of his body, shaking him out of his trance for a second time. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were helping his lifeless body board the train while trying to wave at the same time. To his parents' utter dismay, all Ron could do was look back emotionlessly and barely manage to ascend the short stairway by himself. Looking disgruntled, the two girls immediately followed him. Harry stayed and managed to yell out:

"Don't worry, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley! We'll try and cheer him up!"

Feeling a little better, the pair nodded and waved one last time as the train began to move.

…A couple of hours into the train ride, Draco was sitting in the Prefects' car, remaining blissfully unaware of what was soon to come, until the compartment door slid open. Standing there was a tall young man with dark hair and frightening gray eyes.

"You've tried to avoid me enough this summer, Draco. After three years, I believe I deserve an explanation."

The blonde he was confronting only gave him a second's glare. But he shrugged his shoulders and invited him in. He was right. His plan to avoid Blaise whenever possible until he had forgotten about him had long been doomed to failure. It was time to settle this once and for all.

(End Chap. 17)

Me: Yeah, the second part's a little confusing, but I believe you could figure out who was talking when. However, if you're confused, then feel free to e-mail me.

All 3 (except Lucius): (with a box of tissues) So frickin' sad! Must you be so morbid?

Me: I know it was painful to accept, guys, but we have to give the L/R a little break or else it'll get overrated. Besides, there's good reason. What will happen in the chapters to come explain exactly the motivation for Ron to go back to Lucius in December. And besides, we still got the case of the Malefecium Elixir to solve, the other couple to set up, what's gonna happen to Narcissa…a lot of loose ends we're holdin' here.

Lucius: (in the corner as he tries to hide himself wiping away a tear)

Me: (sees it) OMG. It made you cry? Now I know I did a bad thing! (grabs a lamp from out of nowhere and hits herself with it) Bad doctor! Bad doctor!

Plushie: "It's okay to cry, Harry. Why don't you let me make you feel all better?"

Harry: Thanks.

Plushie: "I will require chocolate syrup, whipped cream, chopped nuts, and vanilla ice cream."

Harry: You're going to make a sundae?

Plushie: "Who said anything about sundaes? I merely forgot to mention the handcuffs and whip." (smirk)

Me: Um…until Chapter 18? (faints from too many blows to the head)