Title: Black and Deep Desires

By: Dr. Kim-chan

Me: I know. Again I've delayed in bringing you the latest prime cut of "Black and Deep Desires". You must be thinking, "That damn quack. Why's she stalling when she's almost at the best part?!"

Lucius: That's what I was thinking.

Me: (smacks him with a rolled-up newspaper)

Lucius: Why must you always be so rough? And where are you getting all these rolled-up newspapers?

Me: Suck it up, wuss. Anyway, I wouldn't be stalling if (1) I could get some inspiration, and (2) if some of my reviewers would stop complaining about the Harry/Draco. I thought that pairing was pretty much accepted by now, damn near canon. But I've been telling everyone, and I don't think I can stress it enough: we'll get back to the Ron/Lucius when we GET BACK to the Ron/Lucius!

All muses: (cower)

Me: (takes a swig of wine) I mean, if I can make Ron and Lucius work—a ship that's almost so illogical it would make a conspiracy theorist's head explode—then you can trust me with everything else. And you also wanted to see Professor Mills screw up to save her good name from being pinned up with all those other Mary-Sues? Oh, I guarantee she'll screw up. She'll screw up indeed…(laughs maniacally, then stops) By the way, I am also establishing myself as a fanfic writer in the Games section ("Kingdom Hearts" specifically) and packing up for college, so I'll be busier than ever, so I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. (resumes laughing maniacally)

All muses: (cower again)

Draco: At least the Doc hasn't changed. She's just as crazy as ever.

Plushie: What she needs is some more drinky-drink…and more reviews! Y'all know the drill. Rolling! (clicks remote)

(Begin Chap. 37)

…The ceiling was dark…too dark. It was nothing but an endless, frightening void. It looked like that one secret place in the universe where if someone searched deep enough, they would find the answers to all the deepest questions in life. Only someone with more than their share of troubles would spin such a crazy imagining out of something as simple as a dormitory ceiling at night.

Draco Malfoy was that certain someone.

It was nearly midnight and he still couldn't sleep. Who could blame him? But what was done had been done; there was no point in turning back time. Then again, right now it was the one thing in the world he wished he had the power to do. Professor Snape was no help either. Looking back, Draco didn't even know why he had sought his help in the first place. He was in his forties, and more than a little stoic. All his life had been dedicated to the mysteries of potion-making, then later to his loyalty to the Dark Lord. What did he know about teenage love? Well, he hadn't told him any specifics; merely that he was having second thoughts about this mission. The way he had responded, though…Draco might as well have told him he had started to develop feelings for Harry.

But Draco had a stone-solid rebuttal that, at first, even Snape couldn't argue with. What possible obligations towards Voldemort did he have? A dead mother, a father gone astray, and an overwhelming fear for his life?

Then, as if learning of Professor Mills' double-crossing wasn't enough of a shock, Snape had been forced to explain to him the true objective behind Lucius's relationship with Ron—"Though I'm not a complete fool; I'm certain Lucius has his personal reasons. I can only hope, when all is said and done, that you don't end up an orphan," the dour Potions master had muttered under his breath.

Now, to make things even more complicated, Draco wasn't even sure who to feel sorrier for: himself or Ron. Sure, it was only Weasley, but even what Draco revealed to the entire school that one afternoon didn't even come close to uncovering the true horrors that happened within the Malfoy Manor. Also…he wasn't sure if he could call it a true comparison, but it was almost like what had happened between him and Potter the first time they met. Come to expect a warm welcome and friendship (and possibly more), only to have it blow up in your face in the worst way. Then Potter could chalk up another reason not to trust him (Draco, that is, not Ron, although both were now on his bad side).

There had to be some kind of advantage he could gain from this. His father couldn't be the only one who took away a reward from this ensuing disaster. After forcing him to break up with Blaise, he was well overdue for payback.

What did he already know about the Malefecium Elixir? Whoever drank it would turn against their friends in a matter of three months, right?

Friends…foes…

Draco sat bolt upright. What did that poem say again?

"Enemies become friends, friends become foes, and then you will face life's terrible woes…"

"If he's going to hate his friends, then…the opposite will happen, too," he whispered to himself.

The sensation he felt in his chest as he mouthed those words was indescribable: mostly immense relief, but also there was a tinge of anger. He should have thought of this before he nearly made himself half insane with worry and guilt and made so many stupid mistakes. He could complete the mission and get what he wanted…and maybe now he could get some sleep.

It couldn't have been more perfect.

…They—whoever those anonymous wise sages were—once said wishes don't come true right away. They also said that one must take the greatest care in exactly what they wish for.

At the arrival of November, these two absolute truths were tested, and like with most events that have happened thus far, the chains of events which set off the imminent disaster all started with a dream…

…He didn't know exactly where or what he was standing in the middle of; it was nothing but an endless dark space. Suddenly, someone else appeared a few feet away from him. The stranger's back was turned to him at first, but as Harry stepped closer, it looked as if the person was startled by the noise of his footsteps. He turned around into the dim light, revealing his face.

"Harry?"

"Ron?"

Out of nowhere the redheaded teenager smiled brightly. "So, are you coming?"

"Coming to where?"

Ron laughed softly. "Are you daft or what? My wedding's today, remember? You're my best man!"

Harry didn't know what to say, but as it turned out, he didn't have to say anything. Without waiting for an answer Ron walked back into the shadows. Harry tried to call out to him, but nothing would come out of his mouth. Suddenly, the shadows all around his disintegrated into nothingness, and him along with it. He was falling now, through endless space and darkness. He couldn't even see himself, it was so dark.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally landed on solid ground, and the next scene unfolded. He couldn't recognize the place, but wherever it was, it was beautiful. It was an old, secluded building. A chapel, perhaps? No…there were no pews. There were candles and flowers, but nothing too extravagant. It was a modest wedding ceremony…

Harry shook his head. Wait. Wedding? It couldn't be. He looked down at himself to see that he was wearing a plain black set of dress robes, almost like what he had worn to the Yule Ball. But the real matter of interest laid right in front of him. At the end of the aisle, a man cloaked in heavy gray robes stood before two others who were facing each other—Mr. Malfoy and Ron. They both were wearing dress robes: Malfoy in a stark black and forest green, and Ron all in a pearly white that nearly stole the show. Harry's eyes trailed down until they stopped at the pair's joined hands…

Harry nearly gasped out loud when he saw what Ron was wearing on one of his fingers—a ruby ring.

The same one from his Pensieve test.

He couldn't see the face of the stranger who was about to marry these two, but suddenly the person made a motion and turned his covered head towards Lucius.

"Lucius Malfoy, do you take Ronald Weasley to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part, for as long as you both shall live?"

Lucius smiled. "I do."

The stranger then turned his head the other way. "And do you, Ronald Weasley, take Lucius Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Then if no one here objects to this union—"

Well, there was no one else here besides Harry, but he did object. But he couldn't open his mouth. Inside he was screaming at all of them, but his lips were frozen in place. He couldn't move, either.

"—by the power invested in me, by this the most ancient law of wizardkind—"

Hold on. The stranger's voice was changing pitch, and not for the better. It sounded…almost like a hissing, high-pitched, scratchy...kind of voice…

"—I now pronounce you united in matrimony."

The stranger finally moved his arm towards his hood to remove it.

And Harry was scared to death at what he saw.

That bald, sickly gray head…the flat, slit-like nostrils, those soulless red eyes, empty of all compassion and understanding…

Immediately his scar was cast into a pit of unforgiving fire he could not see, but it could certainly be felt. The invisible ice that had held him went away in an instant as Harry crumbled to the ground, screaming and clutching his forehead in pain.

"Ah…Weasley…you may now kill Potter."

Harry twisted his head around, his green eyes bulging in terror. From his pocket Ron extracted his wand and pointed it straight at his best friend, stepping ever so closer…the green light…

The green light…

"Ron…!!"

…Harry leaped up from the pillows, gasping for air. His sheets were soaked with sweat, his cheeks with tears. From a corner of the room, a light clicked on. Footsteps were coming closer to his bed…

"Harry? Harry!"

The curtain was snatched back, and the redhaired boy came into his vision. His face was full of concern. Harry couldn't see it. His mind played back the nightmare over and over before his eyes. Was he awake or asleep? Was this the same Ron he had known and trusted for over five years?

Slowly Ron reached up and touched his shoulder, shaking him slowly so he could get some sort of response from him.

"Harry, was it another vision? Harry, answer me! You're awake! Everything's all right!"

Gradually, Harry did stop gasping, but he stayed silent and wide-eyed, staring at Ron. His mind was confused. Was he truly awake? Could he trust Ron's words?

Could he trust Ron?

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, deep within him, a nerve snapped. He had felt this before. In fifth year, when he had been with Dumbledore, a sudden, incontrollable rage welled up inside him, an anger that didn't belong to him. That anger had belonged to Voldemort, and it was all for Dumbledore. He couldn't stand the sight of him…and now it was happening again.

But something was different. This anger…belonged entirely to him.

It was his own anger. The fury, the disappointment, the distrust…it was his, and it was all for Ron. It blinded him and shot through his body to his arms. His hands curled up, his arms raised. At the same time, Harry was afraid of himself. He couldn't control what he was doing. What was he going to do?

It didn't take long for his body to answer him.

Before Ron could do anything in defense, Harry's hands thrust forward and took hold of his throat. He threw the rest of Ron's body down onto the mattress and quickly sat on his chest so he had no way of escaping. Terrified beyond reason, Ron choked on his screams, writhing and trying to get away.

"Tell me the truth! Tell me what happened, damn it! You work for them now, don't you? Malfoy and Voldemort and Pettigrew and all those other bastards! You're a traitor!! Admit it!!" Harry screamed, his grip on his friend's throat growing tighter. Ron lifted his arms weakly and grabbed Harry's wrists, trying to break free, but he couldn't. Harry had somehow become inhumanely powerful. His muffled screams had dissolved into an indiscernible burble, but fortunately enough Harry had made enough noise by himself to wake the entire boys' dormitory. Dean, Seamus, and Neville all sat bolt upright and locked their eyes on the alarming scene. He didn't know who had gotten him first, but someone was brave enough to throw themselves onto Harry and drag him off of Ron. The redhead was finally able to take a deep breath, but it wasn't too long until Harry knocked Dean clear across the room and jumped back on him again, still screaming.

"I don't want to, but if you force me I'll kill you!"

Ron couldn't believe was he was hearing, that disbelief only growing by what Harry did next. He took off one of his hands and leaned back to grab his wand on the nightstand. Ron tried to take advantage of the situation and sit up, but he was smacked in the face by the back of Harry's arm. His maniacal friend sat on his chest again and put his forearm on his throat and shifted his entire weight on it, pressing on Ron's throat, the other hand pointing the wand two inches from his face.

"I told you last time, Ron, if you double-crossed me…Didn't I tell you?" Harry hissed.

This was it…Ron was losing consciousness…

He couldn't exactly see or understand or hear clearly of what happened next, but Ron was sure he heard McGonagall's voice…and some others' too. The unbearable weight was pulled off of him and stayed off, but he could still hear Harry's hysterical accusations, his voice drifting further away.

"Get off of me! I have to finish him off! He knows something! He can't be trusted…!!"

Ron continued to lie there in a daze, desperately trying to get oxygen back into his lungs. A multitude of blurry faces appeared above him, but they were immediately shooed away by McGonagall.

"Mr. Weasley? Mr. Weasley, are you all right?"

Ron struggled, but after a while, and apparently to the relief of everyone who was now in the room, he was finally able to sit up on the edge of the bed. He was shaking violently; now he was unsure of what was real. His vision cleared, and he looked around him. Just outside the door he could hear and see some of the other Gryffindors from the other dorms who had came out to see what had been going on. One in particular sounded really adamant about getting in.

"Miss Granger…!"

"Please let me in!" Hermione pleaded, although in retrospect it hadn't been necessary: she already had both feet in the door. She rushed past McGonagall and kneeled right in front of Ron.

"Ron, what happened? What did Harry do to you?"

In an instant Ron snapped back to attention. What did Harry do to him? What just…?

The reality of it rushed forward and overwhelmed him. Ron took one final gasp…and dissolved into tears. He slumped forward into Hermione's arms, crying frantically all the while.

What on this earth just happened tonight?

(End Chap. 37)

Me: (punches Harry in the face)

Harry: (now out-cold)

Plushie: You know…I won't say anything. He deserved it this time.

Ron: (bawls loudly, and Lucius goes to hug him)

Lucius: First newspapers, and now choking and betrayal and traumatizing your muses—more than they need to? This is beneath even me! I'm reporting you for negligence and insanity!

Me: Hold on a minute! (two men in white coats come into the theater and drag me away)

Me: I'LL GET YOU, LUCIUS MALFOY! I'LL GET YOU YET…!! JUST TRY AND WRITE CHAPTER 38 WITHOUT ME!! (continues laughing maniacally)