A/N: warning and all previous effects still apply to this chapter
Wrong guy: Chapter 2 – motives and actions
As suspected and anticipated, time seemed to move at an excruciatingly slow pace. It was only the fourth day of their stay and Draco felt like he had been in the blasted place for an eternity!
He had barely had an encounter with Harry but for some reason, seems to spend too much time with Ron. They never discussed Harry or his feelings for the boy. Hell, they never talked about anything serious but for some reason, he remembers every conversation he ever had with the boy.
It was scary to think of Ron as a person who was capable of actually making real conversation without the taunts and jabs as well as the permanent cloud of suspicion and distaste. In fact, in short, Ronald Weasley seemed to be a totally different person outside of Hogwarts.
He was left wondering what else Ron was hiding from everyone else... Enough to make him sit alone at times and replay his memories just to be certain he wasn't missing something because the last thing he would have thought Ronald Weasley was, was an enigma but as it turned out, the boy was.
And here he was, thinking he had Ron all figured out. It just wasn't fair because now, he didn't know Ron's motives or at least, he's more confused than he was before when he thought he knew the thought processes of the boy.
Now he was doubting himself and doubting Ron more and more. He'd grown cautious of Ron, not entirely sure how to catch up with the boy now that he seemed to be on some sort of roll…an identity crisis or wait, did Ron Weasley have a multiple identity? And how many were there?
Three?
Four?
Oh god, what if they were like twenty of them!?
He groaned to himself, shaking his head at how crazy he felt all because of Ronald Weasley. Life just wasn't fair to him. He sighed and looked around him. They were all in the common room; well most of them, and it was their fifth night.
The room was quiet except for the occasional whispers between friends but he doesn't pride himself as a person with friends. He frowned as he watched Ron and Harry chatting and occasionally giggling at something the other said.
He watched on as the pair wrestled playfully, wide grins on their faces. Granger had retired to bed earlier, but knowing her, she's probably, sitting somewhere reading a book.
He watched the remaining two of the golden trio for a while, feeling jealousy rise in his throat as his hatred for Ron soared to new heights. He just couldn't believe that after spending four full days and five nights with Harry and only eighteen other people, they were yet to speak to each other.
It was as if the boy hadn't even noticed his presence. He stood up and walked as briskly as he could while still looking calm, out of the room, missing the look Ron shot after him.
On the sixth evening, he'd sat by Harry during dinner. Well, he'd sat by him, between him and Hermione and had surprisingly managed to remain silent throughout the meal. Harry was either too blind or refused to see.
By then, all initial rules that had been given upon their arrival were practically forgotten. Transfigured mattresses were laying around because it turns out , apparently he wasn't the only one who was totally grossed out at the idea of sharing a bed with someone, and people slept just about anywhere whether it was their room or not.
Surprising, the first person who had been expected to break the rules hadn't. Harry Potter, the master rule breaker actually turned out to be the most compliant of them all. A little peep into him and Ron's room revealed a very neat and orderly room.
No doubt Hermione walks in every three hours to throw some spells around.
Later that night after everyone had gone to sleep wherever they wanted to, he snuck into Harry and Ron's room. Their bed was bolted or spelled to the wall and it was just his luck that Harry chose to sleep by the flipping wall.
Light from the bright half moon outside streamed into the room, casting a luminous glow on the faces of both boys. If he'd be honest with himself, he'd admit that Ron looked equally handsome in his sleep with the way the moonlight caused artificial highlights of gold in his ginger-red hair.
Two gods in one bed. This is one of those moments when I really believe that nature is not fair. He mused and leaned over Ron to take a closer look at Harry. He didn't know what he'd say if he was caught but at the moment, he didn't really care.
Minutes later, his back was hurting from leaning over the bed without any form of support. He finally rested his fist cautiously on the bed and thought: oh God, I could stare at him forever
He thought he'd been careful, making sure he wouldn't be doing something as dire as this but his heart stopped beating when a hand gripped his fisted hand on the bed and he yelped in shock.
He looked down at the arm that was tightly clenching his and followed its path to Ron's shoulder where it joined the rest of his body. He tried to pull away but Ron only tightened his hold on him then without warning, he was yanked onto the bed beside Ron.
Ron wrapped an arm around the blonde's waist and made a show of going back to sleep even though he'd kept his eyes closed throughout the whole encounter.
Draco squirmed and tried to get out from Ron's arms but froze when he heard a silent: "shhh…" too close to his ear enough to send shivers down his spine.
"What?" he whispered back after a while when he was calm again.
Sleepily, Ron replied: "Just go to sleep before he wakes up and sees you staring at him like a fool. Do you want to look like a fool in front of the boy you love?"
Draco gasped, then after a while when Ron still said nothing, he muttered: "I can go back to my room. Why can't I just go back and sleep in my room with Blaise?"
Ron's arm around him tightened and he said: "I want you here tonight... Harry is here too, remember?" he'd seemed to add after a moment's thought.
Draco settled back into the warm, strangely comfortable embrace of Ronald Weasley. "Good night" he heard Ron mutter, and against his better judgment, he whispered "Sweet dreams" back. He listened and felt Ron's breath even out as it ghosted over the back of his neck then after a while, he drifted off to sleep.
He has always been a late riser and today was no exception. It was their last day in Dumstrung and he'd woken up in Ron and Harry's bed. Alone! His face heated up at the many horrifying scenarios that he contemplated. What if harry had woken up first and seen him literally spooning with Ron!? Jesus!
He got up quickly and fled the room, praying he'd find a permanent spot to hide in since it was their last day of stay in Dumstrung. Of course, life was never fair to him.
They were bombarded with activities, some were fun, others not so much and he had to go around all day with a damn blush on his perfect cheeks. When asked, he'd frowned and said his skin was developing a late reaction to the weather and that seemed to be enough reason for those dumb Slytherins he came there with. It didn't help that Ronald Weasley kept looking at him with humor as if he was the silliest kid on planet earth.
He went to bed abnormally early that night, refusing to stay awake longer before he got tempted again to sneak into Harry's room, his last and fervent prayer being that his torture be short and fast.
No one was happier than him when it came time for them to go back to Hogwarts. It was just so unbelievable considering he wasn't a fan of that place either but he supposed it was the lesser of two evils in this situation.
He sat – more like slumped - at the far end of the table during breakfast, fiddling with his food. Ron passed by him a first time on his way to join Harry and Hermione and dropped a note in his lap.
Draco opened the note, a frown creasing his features, and read: "It's a communication medium. Harry has the other half. Use it any time at all and he'll answer you." His frown deepened, confusion evident on his face as he looked towards Ron, fixing a combination of a sneer and a glare on the boy.
Ron seemed to see that as his cue as he grinned, shook his head and made his way slowly to Draco and dropped a rolled up parchment in his lap. He didn't wait around, just walked out of the room.
He opened it and picked up the quill that came with it and sighed. "Let's take this Bentley for a ride, shall we?"
Timidly, his heart pounding in his chest, he wrote: "hi…" on the parchment and watched as it vanished. "So much for communication medium" he mused and folded the parchment, walking out of the hall to put it in hiss packed bag before shrinking it and putting it in his pocket.