Chapter one: falling in love is easy
A little gift for a friend who really loves Ron and Draco. I found it, and edited it for you. A small one-shot. Written without a beta, so any mistakes are completely mine!
You can now find me on Instagram as Eyeseemorewrites. I will give updates there, and drop some hints here and there or polls. Give me a follow if you're interested! Enjoy reading!
Draco realised that being a young, rich Malfoy had its perks when it came to dating. His name still held some of the grandeur it had before the war, Pureblood's manners were not that easy to overcome, yet all he found was nothingness. He did try to follow in the footsteps of his great-grandfather. Who had believed in family and only family. Not in Dark Lords.
Draco wished for love more than anything else in the world. He hated the idea of only marrying for the family. He would do it, if it came to that, but he wished he wouldn't have to.
His fame, or rather his infamous name, did bring a lot of attention seekers, people who wanted to see how he was doing, or just straight up creepers. Ron had been in charge of getting him out of the odd situation more than once. Whereas Harry Potter, also a good friend of him nowadays, was too busy to notice that he was alive and available for sexual encounters, Draco wanted nothing more than to settle down. Get married, get some kids some way or another, and just live his (filthy) rich life with the love of his life until they both aged and would die without war around.
It was Ronald's fault for showing him how you could fall in love with people so easily. If Ronald wasn't as straight as he was, Draco would have ended that family feud with a marriage between the families before Ron could have said 'yes' himself. Draco would do anything to feel love being directed at him like that.
It had been last Christmas, where Ron had invited them over at the Burrow, so that both Harry and him did not need to spend it in Grimmauld Place alone (together). Draco had gotten used to celebrating the holiday small during the war, but it had been nice to be invited somewhere, and enjoy the festivities with other people than just his mother.
But Christmas at the Burrow had opened his eyes a little bit more than he had expected. It wasn't the big Christmas ball at the Manor, but it had been way much more better than he had envisioned.
At the Burrow he had seen the oldest brothers, totally in love with their respective partners, and doting on them in every way possible. Showing them love, kissing them on the knuckles, cheeks and other sweet nothingness's. The elder couple always had eyes for each other, navigating their kids and extra's without any trouble. Bill would always navigate towards Fleur, as they played with their little baby girl, and Ginny was sat between Ronald and George, all three relaxing as they were while Hermione tried to get Harry to eat with a familiarity that breathed family if it wasn't anything else.
Draco wanted it so much, he had almost been vexed by Ronald inviting him. Or maybe by accepting. That was also the biggest lie he told himself. He could never hate the redhead. He wouldn't. He would rather be suffocated in that friendship, than have to explain that he thought of Ron every day.
The four of them became secret friends during Umbridge's reign. It was a long road that wasn't beautifully paved but full of hurdles, but they made it work. Nowadays Hermione felt like a long-lost sister, and Draco treated her as such. Even his mother seemed to have a weird close relationship with Hermione. They would have tea every other Sunday at least, and Draco wasn't even allowed into the parlour on those occasions.
Harry was that weird friend that had a difficult phase in life, and finally found his way out again. Draco couldn't blame him. The man had literally walked towards his death, and had somehow came out unscathed. It seemed like the raven-haired young man was now drifting through space. Trying to find his way back to the world and his friends, and they had collectively decided that Harry should get the time and space to do this in his own way. That the closest people around the wonder boy had a back-up plan, was nothing more than a well-kept secret.
Ron was the rock that everybody could depend on. Draco was their flamboyant, self-aware entrepreneur. Every friend group needed one, but that didn't change how heavy his heart felt.
Somewhere, somehow, Ron hadn't given up hope on Draco and Harry, and stood as their knight in shining armour. He was the nations rising star after the war. He had walked through Auror training as it was a walk in the park, and he was second in command now. Draco wondered why the guy himself was still single. He had bulked out even more due to his training, and his face bore that standard wary look that Draco had heard girls describe as mysteriously sexy.
Harry had become a recluse, working through his trauma's from life with Luna, and the current political environment in which he had to navigate. He hadn't dated anyone seriously, and it seemed he wouldn't for the longest time. He didn't even acknowledge that he could do something like that with his life, so Ron and Draco had an understanding that they would let the wizard come to them on his own terms. There was no need to push.
Hermione and Ron had tried to make it work, but had to remain good friends. Every Sunday she would join them for dinner with 'her three bachelors' at Grimmauld's to talk with them for hours, but she hadn't brought anyone along. Draco had to make sure she wouldn't die amongst her books. He should get her some nice clothes, maybe a set of heels if she wanted it.
Hermione had opted to stay at her parents' house, since she missed them that much and they weren't coming back from Australia nor were they able to reverse the damage done to their brains. She Floo'ed in for all other activities, and stayed the occasional night whenever they had drank too much but the men had decided to get her out of that house very soon, because she started to fade away within her grief. She could have a whole level of her own at Grimmauld's, the one usually used by the Lady of the house, and Draco knew his mother had a whole wing prepared for her at the Manor as well.
All she needed to do, is let the boys take care of her. He doubted that would work, but they could try. Who knew.
Draco laughed at his own thoughts, and looked at himself in the mirror, judging his current outfit. Although the battle scars weren't visible on his face, he looked gaunt and it made him realise why he wasn't getting any lately. He looked terrible.
"Draco?" Ronald stood outside his bedroom, a few doors from his own, casually leaning against the doorpost.
"Yes Ron?" He tried to ask casually, with a fake scowl on his face to not look too suspicious.
"I can hear you overthinking. You look good."
The blonde knew he did, he was born looking like he belonged in a castle, and trained to keep it that way. His mother had always trained him more as a Black, to counter his father's lessons. Something he was grateful for. Especially now that Harry had the Lordship which had made them closer than expected. His father had given his own to his son, the evening before the Battle of Hogwarts. Lucius had known he would not survive. One way or another.
"Draco?"
He felt Ronald closing in om him. Almost silent as a predator, but Draco hadn't felt more safe in his life than he did right now. He felt Ron's breath nearing, he smelled that earthy cologne mixed with a musk – one that he gifted him a few Christmases back – and Ron's magic was apparent in the air, giving him that warm feeling of a fire out in the woods.
"Yes Ron, for the second time."
"Stop thinking. You look good. We need to go." There was no judgement in his voice, just that stupid "brotherly" love. Draco wished he could hate the redhead like he did before. Just imagine that.
The night was enjoyable, for once. Drinks were flowing, people were dancing, making out and doing what young adults who had fought a war, should be doing. Relaxing.
Ever since Pansy had purchased this particular club, they had a survivor night every half year. People were almost required to attend by the committee. The club was closed on those evenings for the general public, and it was invitation only. Everyone that had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts could attend. Your former side: not important. You only needed to abide the house rules, who were enforced by Ron and his squad of mismatched 'bouncers' for those nights.
Percy Parkinson-Weasley walked steady towards their table, to greet Ron and George who had been discussing something very heavily, as he nodded towards Draco and Harry. Luna, who had been back from one thing or the other, was out on the dancefloor with Hermione, Astoria and Demelza. Practically dancing their high heels off. Hermione had been glad with Pansy's tutoring in beauty charms when it came to that. Draco never told anyone that he used one on his own shoes as well.
Harry had his head in Theodore's lap for most of the night now, but with those two that could mean anything or nothing at all. Theo had taken a liking to this new Harry, and he was knowledgeable enough for Harry to suck his head dry with information. Draco wondered if it was even sexual at all. Not that he cared, but they seemed comfortable in each other' presence.
It didn't take long for the lady of the evening to make her appearance. She danced into Percy's arms, as he kissed her with a fierce passion before she plopped down onto Draco's lap. Draco was even envious of Percy fricking Weasley. He managed to make a relationship look so easy. Even with Pansy. That woman was a force to be reckoned with. He knew that all too well, as she had been his constant right hand in school.
In the beginning he had thought Pansy to be mad. Weasley wasn't ugly, but he wasn't very handsome at the same time. According to Pansy, Percy had another side to him that barely anybody saw, and that they had matched on more fronts than one. It had been a wedding invitation that Draco had never seen coming. Although he eventually understood the practical parts; Percy was a pureblood male, not the first or second son, and he could hold his own against people with more power. Pansy was the sole heiress to her father's fortune, and Percy had wormed his way in. The fact that her father was in prison, had helped that decision.
Draco had been her best man at the wedding, and even knowing them and seeing them together, it still baffled him from time to time. He wondered how Percy did it. Or better yet; how he kept up with her. Pansy was a force to be reckoned with; she'd always had been even during Hogwarts.
"Having fun, Dragon?" She was the only woman who could use that name, next to his mother. She practically purred into his ear, as he felt the Acromantula silk on his hands from her dress. The same as his own shirt. Probably the same tailor, it wouldn't surprise him at all. They had taste after all.
"Yes darling. You know how to throw a party. Don't go fishing for compliments, it's uncouth." Draco threw a bit of the former Slytherin prince in there, just for old time sake. He didn't lie, yet he wished he wasn't alone. He was enjoying himself, but it did feel empty. The former prince from the snake pit just wanted to be snogged like there was no tomorrow.
"You should tell him." She offered again, knowing his brain like no-one else.
It wasn't the first time they had this conversation, but he just removed some invisible lint from his crisp – also Pansy's own charm - black dress-shirt and looked at her with a sigh.
"He. Is. Straight. Pansy." Draco managed to spit-whisper in her ear. He smelled her parfume and recognised the scent he bought her for her birthday. A bold choice, as his mother would often say.
"Who is?" Let the boy-who-lived-again be the one with the enhanced hearing. Harry had now entangled himself from Theo, who still looked the same as he had done all those years in school and Draco just shrugged. This whole situation was weird. Completely bonkers. Ron would probably describe it as "bloody mental".
Theo whispered something about redheads into Harry's ear, traitors, who on his turn started laughing. Draco wished he could use his wand right now for hexing the hell out of Theo, but that was against the rules for this establishment on these kinds of evenings. Hell, he could even manage a few wandless ones that were perfect, but he decided against it. He still wanted to stay, and although being arrested by Ron would be a naughty dream, it wasn't in his cards for this evening.
Harry kissed the silent Slytherin pontifical on his forehead and winked towards Draco. That explained a whole lot, he mused, and he caught Ron snickering with George. The blond blew Harry a kiss, and readjusted Pansy on his lap who was talking with Blaise, who had decided to show up fashionably late, but dressed to the nines as always. The Italian was a busy man, but always showed up if they needed him. This time he had no-one on his arm, but that wouldn't last as the man was famous for shopping or rather sleeping around.
He shouldn't complain, because his life had looked a lot bleaker than now, but he still missed that arm around him. Caring, loving, and only for him. Fucking Ron. Fucking annoying Harry. He forcefully took a swig from the expensive cognac in his hands, and just seethed internally, like he was taught.
They ended up at Grimmauld's place with a lot more people than expected. Ron had a rather tipsy George on one arm, and a chatty Blaise on the other. While Harry had apparated into the parlour with a drunk Ginny, and a happily buzzed Demelza on the other. Theo arrived shortly after with Astoria elegantly on his arm and it wasn't long before some of the others floo'ed in.
Harry, probably drunk on his own magic, called for Kreacher while he wandless - and wordlessly - summoned drinks and glasses, while he asked Kreacher for some snacks. Most people didn't even bat an eye with the display of power. The Elf happily obliged, and it seemed there would be an afterparty after all.
Draco found himself seated between Ron – somehow - on his right, and Charlie Weasley on his left. The latter had shown up late in the evening, accompanied by Sue Li with whom he worked together at a reserve. Hermione sat facing him, while Ginny had her legs draped all over the other witch. Their heels had been kicked off, and there was a puddle of expensive shoes next to the fireplace. Luna sat before them in her light blue creation that should pass as a dress, airily singing a song about one thing or the other, as Astoria was laughing at something Blaise was saying while George tried to pawn at Blaise for some reason.
It was a merry bunch, and they had fun, but still Draco felt empty on the inside.
Draco woke up with a pounding headache, and a warm body next to him. Thinking it was Blaise, who would often crash at his bed because he had the best linens – which he obviously had – he thumped the body on the shoulder to make way, as he shifted back on his left side.
"Oi, George – fuck off."
Draco then realised that it wasn't the Italian with his expensive cologne, but that lovely smell that had been also his Amortentia back in school, as he sighed. This feeling was the best ever, but he knew it could never be his fully. Embarrassed he threw his head back into his duvet, trying to memorise this feeling and moment forever. He was still a master occlumens.
"Draco, or your highness are all fine, Weasley." There was no sting in his voice, and Ron opened one eye grudgingly to assess his bedpartner.
"Sorry, Draco." The giant next to him only wore a shirt that rode up on his body, giving Draco a view that he wished to rewatch in his mind before he would stare too long. "I thought I crashed at George's bed, as I lend Ginny and Luna my room."
Draco just arched a brow, but said nothing. Ronald probably interpreted it as a sign of hautain, but he just couldn't say anything. He was physically incapable of speaking.
Their silence was broken by Harry, who threw his head around the doorframe. "Breakfast, mate?" He seemed to blink twice at seeing both men in the same bed, but shrugged it off, walked off without saying anything.