Folie à Deux

Author: Freddie

Summary: Draco and Ron are in a relationship, but Draco’s sick, twisted mind haunts him wherever he goes. His descent to madness affects more than just himself...

Warnings: Very dark, slash, bloodplay, non-graphic sex, semi-noncon, self mutilation, gore, angst, exhibitionism, slight BDSM. May be bad for your mental health.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.

Thanks: To my sister Georgia who edited this, inspired and encouraged my sick mind, and contributed some pretty twisted ideas of her own.

Prologue

October 1996

It was on an unusually warm October day that Ron Weasley first confessed his love to Draco Malfoy. The memory of that moment was unforgettable, for more reasons than one might expect. Yes, Draco's tone when he returned the sentiment had been breathtaking, as had been the feel of their bodies fitting together in a comfortable embrace. He would always remember the soft feel of Draco's lips against his own, and how they trembled with excitement and maybe a little nervousness. But most of all, the thing that stood out in Ron's mind was the look on Draco's face when they pulled away after that first kiss. Draco's usually light grey eyes seemed to have darkened somehow, vacant and as unreadable as storm clouds, knowing nothing but a hunger for destruction. His brows were angled in, in a way that should have made Draco look angry, but instead gave him a look of sheer possessiveness. His lips were quirked up at the sides, forming a small, greedy smile; somewhere between a smirk and smug superiority. The look was positively feral, making Ron feel like a helpless victim in the face of a shark.

Ron hadn't been afraid at the time. He had ignored the look, leaning in to kiss Draco again. He had wanted this for what felt like an eternity, and now that he had Draco, there was no way he was ever going to let him go.

Draco's hands had found their way into Ron's hair, tangling themselves up in it in a way that might have been painful if Ron hadn't been so preoccupied. He had growled then, deep and low in his throat, tightened his hold on Ron's hair and pulled him away with excessive force. The words he had spoken in that cold, brutal tone still echoed so clearly through Ron's mind, even weeks after.

"You're mine, Weasley. You've always been mine."

Ron had loved him all the more for it, never realising the true meaning behind those words. It would be months before he would find out, and by that time, he would be too far in to even dream of escaping. But even if he had known in advance, even if someone had told him that there was more to perfect little Malfoy than what met the eye, he wouldn't have backed away. He might have pulled Draco a little closer, held him just a little tighter, forgiving him and loving him for all the things he had yet to do.