Title: Black and Deep Desires

By: Dr. Kim-chan

(The theater is decorated for both Christmastime and New Year's, and the muses are all dressed up. Harry is dressed as Santa Claus, Draco is Mrs. Claus (complete with slinky short red dress and red lingerie), Ron is a reindeer, and Plushie is Baby New Year. However, he ruined his costume swimming in the bowl of wine. As for Lucius…)

Lucius: (walks in wearing green tights, pointy ears, and a green hat with bells) I refuse to be an elf. My son's already dressed as Santa's Little Prostitute. You need more despicable entertainment?

Me: Oh, come now! 'Tis the season! Besides, you're not just an elf; you're a handsome, strapping, sexy, blonde elf-man. Legolas got nothing on you. Anyway, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my loving reviewers! As of March 2006, B&DD will celebrate its one-year anniversary! (cheering) What makes today a big occasion is that we're beginning the Fear Chapters!

Ron: Fear Chapters?

Me: If you haven't noticed, B&DD falls into segments. Chapters 1 through 17 made up the Era of Servitude. 18 through now is the Era of Ron's Adjustment, but Chapters 27 through approximately 29 or 30 in particular will be the Fear Series. As you know, Hogwarts' students have been preparing for the Defense Against the Dark Arts test. Of course, I must warn you. (Theater turns pitch-black and a dim spotlight turns on me) We'll now be entering one of the most frightening parts of the story. The question is, are you READY! Mwahahahahahahahahahaaaaa!

Draco: (turns lights back on and adjusts the straps on his girdle) May I remind you its Christmas/New Year's, not Halloween, you maniac. So, happy holidays and all that jazz. Rolling! (clicks the green remote)

(Begin Chap. 27)

…That same evening, following her custom, Romilda sat a distance away from Harry at the Gryffindor Table. Her eyes were just about dried up from watching him without blinking for minutes on end. Draco wasn't sitting at the Slytherin Table, and Ron wasn't at his place either. She was disappointed Draco wasn't there to witness their glory, but she was ecstatic Ron wasn't there to distract her object of desire.

Further up, Harry was solemnly picking at his food. Hermione was looking at one of the double doors behind the High Table as if she was expecting someone to walk through them. She was. She wasn't nearly as prying as Harry, but if her instincts were proven right this time, Ron would know a lot more about the cause of Mrs. Malfoy's death. The details in the Daily Prophet had been sketchy. What was it about her death that compelled Mr. Malfoy to make Ron a standing equal in his estate? It was one question after another.

"I just can't believe it. Mrs. Malfoy's…"

Hermione nodded. Only once before had she known someone who had went through the pain of losing a mother, and he was sitting here before her. It was an interesting thing to think about. After this, would Draco finally back down and take the time to understand everything Harry went through? Would he finally stray away from his father's dangerous habits?

Then her eyes fell on a golden serving plate a little to the left of Harry. On it was a modest pile of caramel-filled wands. Just as quickly as she looked at them, however, she wasn't in the mood to eat any and glanced back at the parchment she had been looking over. Harry looked up and saw the same plate. With a small smile he remembered Lupin's cure for an encounter with a Dementor.

His fingers got a safe grip on one of the caramel wands at the bottom of the pile when Harry heard a creak. Ron entered the Great Hall and came to sit between Harry and Neville. Breaking tradition, there was a long moment of uncomfortable silence. It was particularly frustrating because Ron's face was a fascinating mix of worry, fear, and absolute confusion. Finally, Harry broke the silence and asked the long-awaited question.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Ron asked listlessly.

"What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?" pressed Hermione.

Another moment of uncomfortable silence, then… "I don't even know where to begin. Let me just spit it out. Mrs. Malfoy—she's dead. You-Know-Who killed her. I didn't know her that well since she left before I came to the manor, but…why her, you know? Mr. Malfoy's been faithful to You-Know-Who, right?" Ron explained fast in a flustered voice. "And that's not even the half of it. Now Malfoy's dad wants me to inherit! They took me to Professor Mills' office to tell me everything, and Snape and Draco were there, too…"

Ron stopped when he saw that—no matter how hard they were trying—Harry and Hermione didn't look at all surprised. It didn't take him long to figure out why.

"You knew about this?" he asked angrily. Casually, Harry popped the caramel wand in his mouth, but Hermione immediately tried to plead their case.

"It was in yesterday's paper," she said. Ron raised one eyebrow. "You said it yourself that you didn't know Mrs. Malfoy that well!"

"Not that! Why didn't you tell me Mr. Malfoy made me an heir!"

"Also something you said yourself. I thought you told us you never wanted to talk about your time with the Malfoys ever again. Now you're mad at us because we didn't tell you that Mr. Malfoy was talking about you in the paper?"

"I said I didn't want anyone asking any more bloody questions about what he did to me over the summer—which was nothing," he added hurriedly. "You two were probably talking behind my back again, weren't you? And anyway, we must have gotten along pretty well for him to even think about me after this wife died!"

"Like his lover?"

Harry and Ron turned around and Hermione, sitting opposite them, directed a pointed glare as they heard that derisive remark coming from Draco Malfoy. They hadn't even noticed him walk into the Great Hall, probably because he almost never entered from the doors on their side. Still, it was a really unusual insult. Little did Ron know that it meant all wrath within the younger Malfoy had come to a boiling point. Considering all the consequences that happened so fast, he had every reason to be angry. What no one had ever been aware of—not even Ron—was that Draco loved his mother more than he loved his father. Scratch that. He tolerated his mother; despised his father. Not that he didn't want a position in power. It was how Lucius pushed him and abused him to prepare him to do it. Now his mother was dead and the third-most despised person on his list would potentially become a part of his prestigious family? Why was he even bothering fulfilling a mission on behalf of Voldemort if he killed the only person he ever even remotely loved?

It was all he could take.

He was going to destroy Ron Weasley here and now.

"The only reason Father wants to let Weasley in on our fortune is because Weasley worked for it, and I damn well don't mean scrubbing floors."

"If you're going to say something useful, Malfoy, say it or leave us the hell alone," Harry snapped, momentarily forgetting his promise.

"It's just that there's something I thought you two should know. Apparently Weasley didn't bother to tell you—"

"Shut up!" hissed Ron, eliciting more surprise from his friends.

"Why should I? All the teachers know. Blaise and I knew from the beginning. Your friends were already suspecting. You really think you'd be able to hide it any longer, slut?"

There was no better time for Harry to have swallowed that second caramel wand. Malfoy was trying to reach a new level of nastiness, if that was possible. He smacked his hand on the table and stood up.

"Something useful, Malfoy. Last chance," Harry clarified in a deadly whisper.

Draco smiled. He said it, not him.

"Fine."

"Malfoy, no!" Ron shouted. By this time, everyone at the Gryffindor Table was watching.

"But Weasley, you didn't want to tell your little friends you had a new boyfriend?"

Harry lowered his fists and stared at Draco as if he'd lost his mind.

"You wasted our time to tell us that?"

Draco's smile got even wider. If he had been a demon, he would've bared his fangs.

"It gets even better, Potter. It's my father!"

Everyone in the Great Hall could literally hear the collective intake of breath caused by the Gryffindor Table gasping more or less in unison, then they did so themselves. Hermione slowly put her book back down, revealing her dropped jaw. Further down the table, both Romilda and Neville had spilled pumpkin juice on themselves. Quite a few people at the Slytherin Table were either smirking or cackling. They liked nothing more than to see a Gryffindor's reputation soiled. Blaise, on the other hand, was absolutely furious…

Ron slid back down to his seat, his eyes wide open. He was, among all the other emotions churning inside him, shocked, helpless, and more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life. Not ever had Draco done something so cruel. Ever.

"W—What?" Harry sputtered.

"And Scarhead finally gets it. Why did you think he didn't want to tell you anything? While Father was holding him for ransom, they got in too far over their heads. Didn't you also notice how sad Weasley was when he came back? He had a guilty conscience. He betrayed you all, Potter, and he betrayed me. I'm not at all surprised he helped Father and Voldemort get rid of Mother." This brought on another bout of gasping from the room. "Poor Weasley; he wants to go back to the manor so badly. He wants to get his hands on my father again…or should I say, Father wants to get his hands on him?"

Nothing else was said. The reverberating slap planted on his cheek by Ron was enough. Before Harry could even speak, Ron grabbed his bookbag and stormed out of the Great Hall.

…That evening, the common room and dormitories of Gryffindor House—and all the other Houses for that matter—were as full as they ever would be, abuzz with gossip. Copies of that day's Daily Prophet were passed around like napkins, which didn't make it any better for Ron's predicament. The article today only confirmed the previous assumptions about Lucius Malfoy making Ron his heir, as well as revealing the same details Ron was let in on at the meeting in Professor Mills' office.

The common room door swung open. The various students paused in their discussions to see who it was. Most importantly, they wanted to pester Ron with about a hundred questions. It was a harassed-looking Hermione, tired from traipsing all over Hogwarts searching for her redheaded friend. Ron didn't go straight to the common room. He was nowhere to be found as far as she was concerned.

Ignoring the people crowding around her, she marched up the stairs and knocked on the door. She knew Harry had holed himself up in here since that fateful confrontation.

"Harry! Harry, are you there?"

The door opened just a crack, showing Dean's face. "Hi Hermione. You just missed him."

She rolled her eyes and puffed out her cheeks. "Great. Now I can't find him or Ron. They both disappeared on me. Did he say where he was going?"

Dean shook his head.

"I was afraid of that. Ron didn't come back, either?"

Dean shook his head again. Hermione sighed again and walked away, uttering a thank-you. The door closed, and if Hermione had stayed a while longer, she would've heard Seamus say, "I guess Ron was right."

…As it turned out, Ron was at the one place neither Harry nor Hermione thought to look: the Owlery. The Ravenclaws had Quidditch practice, so he couldn't have went to the pitch for some time alone. Hagrid had been in the Great Hall right along with them; he couldn't go to the valley either. This was the only place he wasn't going to be judged or scorned. The only eyes scrutinizing him were those of the owls. Ron had chosen a good time to go. The sky was cloudy, the wind constantly blowing as if rain was about to fall; the air had that certain smell. Since the wind was blowing, the overpowering smell wasn't that overpowering.

He wasn't crying, first and foremost. He had cried all the way to the Owlery, he was finished. Now he was sitting just outside the doorway, wondering what his next move should be. When he went back to Hogwarts, the insults would only begin anew. He had to talk to someone, anyone.

Ron gripped the wall behind him and crawled back up to his feet, then walked into the Owlery itself. He didn't feel like going back to Hogwarts and fetching Pig. He'd just use one of the school's owls. He walked around until he found a placid black-spotted owl that didn't screech at him. Reaching into his bookbag, he pulled out a piece of parchment, an inkwell, a feather, and a book to put the paper on. Trying desperately to avoid sitting right on the floor, he wrote out a letter:

Mr. Malfoy,

I don't know if you'll even be able to read this since the Ministry's probably on your back, but I had to write this to you. Remember what we said about December? Well, I really thought I'd be able to wait, but ever since the Daily Prophet started writing those articles, everyone's got on my bloody case about what happened. And it's only gotten worse, Mr. Malfoy, much, much worse—

Ron stopped, wondering if he should go ahead and tell. It only took two seconds.

Your stupid son told everyone at school about our relationship…if we even have one. You never even told me if there was anything between us. I guess that doesn't matter now; everyone thinks I'm a traitor and that I helped you kill Mrs. Malfoy just to get your hands on your money. Hey, I want you to explain that, too! Why did you make me an heir? Are you crazy? I was only your servant. Anyway, I know it was risky to do, but I had to talk to you. I've been branded as a Death Eater, plain and simple. I didn't know who else to talk to. Even Harry thinks I betrayed him. If you can do anything, anything at all, help me.

Ron.

He got up and walked to the carved-out window, folded the letter twofold, and ripped out a long black thread from a corner of his school robes. He used it to tie the letter tightly to the owl's leg. With a flying hand he sent the owl out of the window and on its way to the town of Wilshire. If there really was anything Lucius could do to help him, he would appreciate it.

"Sending letters, are you? That's not usually what I do when I'm depressed."

If it wasn't the last person on Earth Ron wanted to see. Harry walked up to him with his arms crossed in front of his chest and an expressionless face. He didn't seem furious or upset, though.

"What do I have to be depressed about? It's just that all of Hogwarts is accusing me of murder and shacking up with Malfoy's dad and Malfoy's finally succeeded at making my life a bloody living hell!" Ron snapped in a rare moment of ingenious sarcasm. "No, I'm not sad…just really pissed off. And I s'pose you're here to finish the job."

"Like I'd believe anything that git says. But still..."

"What?"

"Still…it's too much of a coincidence. You were trying to stop Draco from saying something, and in the paper Lucius himself was quoted as saying you two developed a close relationship. The only reason I came to talk to you is to ask you what I've been trying to ask you since the start of term. If you answer this time, I'll drop the whole subject. Now for the last time, is there anything at all going on between you and Mr. Malfoy? Did he force you to do anything?" he asked. Ron looked down.

"He might have feelings for me, but I don't feel anything for him," Ron boldly lied. "Come on; he's a forty-four year old man and a Death Eater bent on killing you. And no, he didn't force me to do anything."

"Why were you so depressed after we got you back?"

"I told you that on the train. The important thing's that I'm fine now, so you got nothing to worry about," Ron answered sheepishly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, then finally looked satisfied.

"All right. But, as your best friend, I'm going to give you some advice," Harry warned. "Just because you answered my questions doesn't mean you're telling the truth or not. Malfoy only said what he did to get under my skin, I'm sure. But, if I do find out you've been lying this whole time, it won't be Malfoy you'll have to worry about. I don't spare anyone working for the Dark Lord…even if they are my best friend."

(End Chap. 27)

Ron: Was I just threatened by Harry? Was I just embarrassed by Malfoy? (jumps on Draco) YOU PANTY-WEARING BASTARD!

Me: This is the second time a fight's broken out at the end of the chapter. HEY! We need to do the Countdown!

Lucius: Why?

Me: I'm pretty sure Chapter 28 won't come out until after New Year's, so we're going to have our New Year's celebration now! Plushie! (Plushie shakes up 2,006 bottles of champagne and holds the cord which is tied to the corks)

Plushie: Ready! 10…9…

Ron: 8…7…(punch)

Harry: 6…5…

Lucius: 4…3…

Draco: 2…1…(OW!)

Me: ZERO! (Plushie pulls cord and theater is flooded in wine)

Everyone: (says drunkenly) HAPPY NEW YEAR! WOO! YEAH! (hiccup) See you in Chapter 28!