Chapter IX

November 22th 1996

I’m dying inside. God, Ron, I need you.

January 1997

Friday Evening

The only thing Ron could think about all day was getting Draco alone so they could talk about what had happened in the hospital wing. The opportunity finally presented itself when they departed to their classroom that night.

The room still seemed overly dark and ominous because of the strange things that had happened there, but Ron was too eager to find out what was going on with Draco to care. It was hard to really make a guess about what had happened. On one hand, Draco seemed better – he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary all day. But on the other hand, he seemed even more withdrawn and depressed than usual.

Ron couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of worry when he was the first one to arrive in their classroom. Draco was almost always there first. To keep himself from worrying unnecessarily, Ron distracted himself by transfiguring the bed and placing the silencing charm on the door.

He paced around the room a little, sat down on the bed, then stood up and paced some more. He was just about to start panicking when Draco shuffled into the room twenty minutes later. He locked the door behind him with a lazy flick of the wand, glancing up at Ron in silent acknowledgement.

“Where have you been?” Ron asked, moving over to Draco and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Draco’s spirits lifted a little at the warm, comforting touch that he so craved. “Crabbe and Goyle wouldn’t go to bed,” he lied. Really, he had no excuse. He hardly wanted to put up the effort to leave his dorm room, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being without Ron for a night... or how horrible it would be to leave Ron alone with no explanation.

“Oh, good. I was starting to worry.” Ron admitted. He pulled Draco into his arms and hugged him as tightly as he could without crushing him. Draco melted into the embrace, clinging to Ron with an almost desperate need. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to commit everything about this moment to memory – the feeling of Ron’s body pressed so fully against his own; Ron’s warm, welcoming scent; and the overwhelming sense of security and comfort that came with it. He would do anything to remain frozen in that moment forever.

Unfortunately, like all good things, it came to an end far too soon; leaving Draco feeling even colder and more desolate than before. Ron touched a lingering kiss to Draco’s cheek, not failing to notice the dour look on his face.

“Come here,” Ron wrapped his arm around Draco’s shoulders, guiding him to sit down on the bed. “I want to talk to you.” He sat down next to him, purposely letting their legs press together.

“What about?” Draco asked, feigning interest. He knew exactly where this conversation was going, and he had been dreading it all day.

“I wanted to know how things went with Pomfrey this morning.”

Draco bit his lip worriedly and, after a brief internal struggle, looked up at Ron with a smile. “Better than expected. She healed my arm, asked me some questions, then gave me this potion that cured everything. I feel so much better.” He cringed inwardly at his pathetic lie, hoping Ron would let the matter drop.

“That’s great!” Ron said happily. Draco died inside. “I’m so happy for you!” He swept Draco into his arms again, pressing an enthusiastic kiss against Draco’s lips.

Draco parted his lips, allowing their tongues to caress and explore. He let himself forget his dreadful, hopeless feeling for a moment; eagerly being lost in the perfect, healing touch of Ron’s hands on his body and tongue in his mouth.

He was happy with Ron – never with anyone else. Throughout the day, he had been so hopelessly depressed; dwelling on the newfound knowledge that whatever was wrong with him was even beyond Pomfrey’s skill to heal. But when he was with Ron, like in Potions, all of that seemed to fade away, leaving him feeling overwhelmingly happy. But the instant Ron was out of Draco’s sight – or even just out of his reach – he would spiral back into a dark pit even deeper and scarier than the one he had just emerged from.

Ron, however, was unbelievably happy. The knowledge that Draco was finally free from what had haunted him since the day they had gotten together was finally gone seemed too good to be true. There would be no more of Draco accidently hurting Ron and then going to a phase of self-loathing and depression. He was free to be the carefree, mischievous little prat Ron fell in love with.

Draco smiled as they pulled apart, realising for the first time that he was more than willing to spend the rest of his life with Ron. This was more than just a school fling; even more than the dark obsession that controlled the very core of his being. He loved Ron very much, he always knew it, but he had never put any thought into what would happen after Hogwarts, even though that time was quickly approaching – they only had one more year to go. Then they would both be of age; both free from their families and the reasons they kept their relationship a secret. They could do whatever they wanted with no consequences... They could get married.

His face flushed and he noticeably shivered with excitement. Spending every single moment with Ron, not having to hide whenever they wanted physical contact or a normal conversation... it sounded so unbelievably perfect. He could buy a house for them that Ron would have never even dared to dream of, fill it with house elves and other luxuries that Ron had been denied his whole life.

“What is it?” Ron asked, laughing a little at the huge display of emotions dancing across Draco’s face.

“Nothing,” Draco answered, leaning in to kiss Ron again.

They fell back onto the bed and adjusted so they could face each other, kissing slowly and lovingly. Ron gently pushed Draco onto his back and leaned over him, slowly unbuttoning his robe and pushing it open. Draco shifted and wiggled eagerly, trying to slip the robe completely off without actually sitting up. Ron dipped down and kissed the side of Draco’s mouth, then trailed his lips down towards Draco’s ear. Draco sighed and tilted his head, and Ron pushed thin wisps of white-blond hair out of the way before pressing his lips on the sensitive area just behind Draco’s ear.

“I love you,” Ron whispered, nudging the shell of Draco’s ear with his nose. Draco trembled in response, his heart pounding frantically.

Ron began to slowly pull at the rest of Draco’s clothes, removing them with an ease only obtained by months of practice.

As soon as his clothes were out of the way, Draco grabbed for Ron and pulled him down beside him once again.

“Alright, so about tomorrow,” Draco said quietly, distractedly pulling at Ron’s clothes, “we’ll leave at the same time as everyone else in the morning, that way it won’t look strange for me to be following you... and Granger.” He added bitterly.

“Okay,” Ron agreed lightly, not really caring so much about the details. He just liked to hear Draco talk.

“Abandon her around noon, I suppose,” Draco continued, sitting up momentarily to toss Ron’s clothes off the bed. He settled back down next to Ron, wrapping an arm around Ron’s waist. “That will give us about four hours in Hogsmeade. That’s more than enough time, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” Ron sat up slightly and pushed himself more fully onto the bed, lying on his back amongst the pillows. Draco followed him, settling down by Ron’s side and resting his head in the crook of Ron’s shoulder and neck.

They lay there in silence for a moment; Ron’s arm wrapped around Draco’s shoulders while Draco’s leg curled slightly over Ron’s; listening to each other breathe. Ron’s hand trailed down Draco’s body to absently stroke his lower back. The room was slightly cold, but neither of them cared enough to move under the blankets.

For a moment, Ron toyed with the idea of rolling Draco onto his back and engaging in another long night of sex, but the whole week had been filled with it. And their current position was so relaxed and comfortable that it was the perfect end to their mutually stressful week. Draco seemed to be falling asleep already anyway.

Ron slowly drifted to sleep, happier than he had been all week.

Morning came all too soon, and the two of them reluctantly pulled away from their cosy embrace. Reluctantly, that is, until Draco realised what day it was. Saturday. Finally, it was time for their long awaited trip to Hogsmeade.

“Okay,” Draco said, throwing on his clothes, “Don’t forget, you’re not-”

“-supposed to buy anything for Hermione, and I’m to abandon her at noon, right?” Ron finished with a laugh. He pulled on his clothes and switched the bed back to its original shape.

“Right,” Draco nodded and pulled Ron close. “This is about me and you; no matter who else is there.” They pressed their lips together in a quick kiss, then Draco pulled away again. “Hurry up and get back to your dorm.”

Ron smiled and nodded, stole one more kiss and murmured a quick “I love you,” then headed out the door. He couldn’t help but smile the whole way back to Gryffindor Tower; it was so easy to tell when Draco was excited about something. Ron was fairly certain from the very start that a Hogsmeade visit together would be next to impossible, so he could only hope the day turned out as well as Draco had planned.

He barely had time to put on pyjamas and slip into bed before the other boys started waking up. Going through his usual routine of pretending to slowly wake up and drag himself out of bed, he began to get ready for the day. After showering, he pulled on his newest, maroon Weasley jumper and some old trousers that were barely long enough.

Half an hour later, Ron, Harry, and Hermione met up in the common room.

“Ready to go?” Hermione asked, nearly jumping with excitement.

“Well, actually,” Harry said loudly, in a rehearsed, regretful tone, “I will not be able to go with you guys.” Ron cringed at how scripted Harry sounded.

“Oh, why not?” Actually, Hermione sounded rather scripted as well.

“You see Hermione, I- er-” Harry paused for a minute, thinking, “Oh, yeah! Pansy and I haven’t started on our Potions essay yet, so we are going to work on it today. So unfortunately, I will not be going to Hogsmeade with Hermione and Ron – you and Ron.”

Ron wanted nothing more than to bang his head up against the wall.

“See, Harry?” Hermione chastised, “If you actually did your work in an orderly manner, you’d be able to have fun in Hogsmeade with me and Ron.” Hermione instantly turned on Ron, suddenly looking sincere. “I bet you and Malfoy haven’t gotten anything accomplished yet, either, have you?”

“Actually, we have,” Ron said proudly, then quickly added to avoid suspicion, “he may be a prat, but do you think he’d let himself get a bad grade in Snape’s class just because he hates me?”

“Well, good,” Hermione said with a smile, “you can still go to Hogsmeade, then. Harry, we’ll see you later. Good luck with the essay.”

“Bye guys,” Harry said, flopping back onto one of the chairs by the fire, not looking the least bit remorseful.

Hermione and Ron silently left the common room and made their way down to the Entrance Hall, where the majority of third year and older students had already gathered to go to the village. Ron surveyed the room, finally spotting Draco over near the marble staircase. Draco nodded almost imperceptibly when their eyes met, then turned his attention in the opposite direction.

They all stood around for several minutes, waiting for Filtch to allow them to leave. Just because Filtch liked to control things, he never let anyone leave until exactly eight o’ clock. Ron purposely pretended to be looking around the room with interest, waving at different people, to keep from having to talk to Hermione.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Filtch opened the oak front doors, muttering under his breath. All the students knew that was their cue to leave, and hurried out the door, nearly knocking Filtch over in the process.

As the crowd evened out – some students running ahead while others walked slowly and leisurely – Ron was left with no choice but to walk by Hermione’s side and acknowledge her if she spoke. He carefully left enough distance between them for a third person to fit in. He didn’t want Draco think he actually wanted to walk near Hermione.

Ron threw a quick, hopefully subtle glance over his shoulder, noticing Draco walking by himself a couple of metres behind them. Draco felt a surge of happiness when he saw Ron looking back at him. As deceiving as it was to see Ron walking abreast with Hermione, he was certain Ron wouldn’t forget about him.

However, he still couldn’t help but feel horribly jealous seeing the two of them together. Hermione was hopping along, obviously quite pleased with having Ron to herself for the day, and Draco wanted pull out his wand and hex her right there. She was saying something now, Draco couldn’t exactly make it out it was, but her shrill voice was unmistakable. He felt bad for Ron since he had to be so close to it.

They arrived in Hogsmeade within minutes, and Ron and Hermione came to a stop in the middle of the road, looking around. Draco leaned up against a tree, pretending to be extremely interested in examining his nails.

“Where do you want to go?” Hermione asked, turning to Ron and touching his arm.

Ron stepped away from her touch, pretending to be looking around. Touching was off-limits, especially since Draco was watching. “I don’t know,” he looked behind them again, spotting Draco near the tree. Draco arched an eyebrow at him, a silent reminder. “Er, Honeydukes?” Ron suggested.

“Oh, sounds good,” Hermione crooned, “come on.”

They took off down the road again, Draco waiting until no one was paying attention before he started following. He gazed through the shop windows as they passed, looking for something suitable to buy for Ron. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement when he saw a sparkling, gold ring displayed in the window of a jewellery shop. He considered buying it for the briefest of moments, but quickly changed his mind. As tempting as it was, it was much too early for something like that.

Upon entering Honeydukes, Draco was surrounded by an almost impenetrable crowd of Hogwarts students. Ron and Hermione were nowhere in sight. He pushed and shoved his way through, searching for that tall head of bright red hair that was usually so easy to spot in a crowd. Just when he was starting to get aggravated, he noticed the Ron and Hermione huddled over in a corner, looking at a display of Chocolate Frogs. Ron picked a few up, holding them for a minute, waving them around slightly, and Draco instantly knew what he wanted. He couldn’t help but smile; he didn’t think Ron would actually participate in his idea. But not only that, even with Draco’s endless amount of money at his disposal, the first thing Ron asked for was a few Chocolate Frogs... typical.

Draco waited until Ron and Hermione left the display to browse the other sweets, then grabbed as many Frogs as he could carry without looking completely ridiculous. By the end of their Honeydukes experience, Ron had picked out Chocolate Frogs, Chocoballs, Fizzing Whizbees, and Sugar Quills. Draco grabbed as many as he could carry of each, knowing he looked like a complete glutton, but not caring in the least.

When he finally saw Ron and Hermione leave the shop, he quickly purchased all of the sweets and left the shop carrying them all in a rather large bag. He then followed the pair into Zonko’s, where Ron had expressed an interest in Dungbombs and Stink Pellets. Draco had always hated those, but he reluctantly bought a few of each.

He left the shop a few minutes after Ron and Hermione did, but they didn’t seem to be going anywhere. They stood in the middle of the road, discussing something. Draco really didn’t care at the moment, as it gave him the perfect opportunity to slip away and buy something without losing them.

He hardly knew what to buy for Ron – he wasn’t exactly the best gift-giver in the world – so he did the only thing he could think of. He went into Gladrags Wizardwear and bought Ron some new robes. Hopefully no one would notice that Ron’s robes mysteriously started fitting. If they did, he was certain he and Ron would be able to make up some excuse. If not, Ron didn’t have to wear them. It was simple.

Ron and Hermione started down the road again, this time with no particular destination in mind. Ron was a little worried when he didn’t see Draco anywhere around, but since they weren’t going into any shops at the moment, Draco would easily be able to catch up. Besides, Ron couldn’t expect him to follow them around all day; surely he wanted to do some shopping for himself.

So far, Hermione hadn’t been much of a problem. Other than that one touch at the beginning of their visit, she hadn’t done any sort of overt flirting. Ron was actually enjoying himself.

Hermione scanned the displays in each shop, looking for something that Ron might take interest in. She might not be able to buy it for him, but she just wanted to give them something to talk about. They had very few common interests, so most of their conversations had been pointless small talk about the weather or their classes.

That’s when she saw it: an excellent new broom in the window of a Quidditch shop. She grabbed Ron’s arm to stop him from walking, pulling him back to look in the window.

“Oh, Ron, look!” She, of course, didn’t have the slightest interest in the broom, but she knew Ron would love it.

Ron started to pull out of her grasp, but froze when he saw the broom. “Wow,” he breathed, staring at it in wonder. “That’s a Firebolt 180!” He shifted closer for a better look, not realising that Hermione still clung to his arm so tightly that it was nestled between her breasts.

When Draco stepped out of Gladrags, his eyes immediately landed on the two of them; standing so close like a loving couple. He had only been gone for a few minutes, and this is what happened? He felt a suffocating anger bubbling up inside of him, but he forced it back. He couldn’t, wouldn’t believe it was Ron’s fault. There had to be some logical reason... Ron wouldn’t do this to him, would he?

“Well, well!” Draco said loudly, striding over to them. “What’s this? A Weasel and a mudblood on a romantic outing? How quaint.” Venom laced his every word, and Ron quickly spun around in surprise, breaking free of Hermione’s hold on him.

He knew immediately what this was. A warning. He had severely angered Draco without even realising it. He would have to be more careful. Before he could even open his mouth to say anything, Hermione responded in her shrill, angered tone.

“What we’re doing is none of your business, Malfoy! You have the whole village to annoy, so why don’t you leave us alone!?” With that, she grabbed Ron’s hand and pulled him along down the road. Ron squirmed out of her grasp, shooting Draco a sympathetic glance over his shoulder.

“Come on,” Hermione huffed, opening the door to Madame Puddifoot’s, “he won’t follow us in here.” Ron seriously doubted that, but reluctantly entered the cramped, tacky little tea shop. Fortunately, they were the only patrons at the moment, and Madame Puddifoot herself must have been in the back somewhere, since there was no one around.

Golden pixies flew around, leaving trails of sparkling, silver dust. As the first day of February was on Monday, a few overeager golden cherubs had already joined the pixies, throwing their usual pink confetti.

Ron looked around in disgust, scarcely able to move from the doorway.

“Oh, follow me,” Hermione sighed, grabbing his arm and leading him over to a table near the window. She gently pushed him toward a chair, moving around the table to take the other chair.

Ron stumbled and aimed to simply fall into the chair, but instead, he ended up slamming the inside of his wounded thigh onto the edge of the table. He winced and made a small, pained noise, stumbling away from the table and ending up on the floor.

“Oh, Ron, I’m so sorry!” Hermione gasped, quickly running to his aid. “Are you alright? Oh my goodness, is that blood?” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and put her free hand on his leg, trying to get a look and the small bloodstain that was beginning to form.

“Stop it,” Ron growled, pushing at her hands, “stop touching me.”

“But you’re hurt! We’ve got to get you back to Hogwarts.” Her insistent hands continued to touch his arms, back, shoulders, legs... everywhere. Ron’s frustration continued to mount. Draco was probably looking through the window at that very moment watching their every move, growing angrier and angrier...

He was wrong. Draco had actually entered the tea shop already, and was sitting at a table by himself in the far corner of the room. There was, however, one thing Ron had been absolutely right about: Draco’s anger was growing more and more out of control with every passing second.

“Come on, Ron,” Hermione said gently, putting both of her arms around him in an attempt to help him stand up. If either of them had been paying attention, they would have heard a chair skid loudly across the room and slam into the wall as Draco jumped to his feet.

Hermione finally managed to haul Ron into a chair, then pulled back enough to rest her hands on his shoulders. “I’m going to go get help. You stay here.” She turned and ran out the door without looking back. If she had, she would have seen Draco storming angrily in their direction, pushing tables and chairs out of his way as if they were nothing.

Ron, however, saw him immediately. His eyes widened with shock, and all he could do was hope that Hermione didn’t return any time soon.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Draco demanded loudly, grabbing Ron’s arm and yanking him to his feet.

Ron stumbled forward, bracing himself on the table to keep from falling. “Nothing, I wasn’t doing anything! I just crashed into the table and-”

“Come with me,” Draco snarled, giving Ron’s arm a tug as he stormed out the door. Ron stumbled and limped along behind him without protest, trying to regain his balance.

Ron looked around frantically, hoping no one happened to see them, and mentally screaming at Draco to take the back roads instead of the main road. He knew immediately that they were going back to Hogwarts, and he had never been more worried about that in his life. Somehow, he made Draco think that he was interested in Hermione, and now, there was no telling what Draco would do.

But it just didn’t make any sense. Draco was supposed to be okay now – everything was supposed to get better. Ron didn’t want to think about it; Draco wouldn’t have lied, would he?

Draco dragged Ron behind the shop and down some back roads, staying far away from the bustling main road. They got a few odd stares from some unrecognisable adults who obviously had no association with Hogwarts. Draco ignored them, pushing by angrily. Their pace was quick and harsh; taking sharp turns that nearly pulled Ron off his feet. Ron guiltily kept his eyes away from the large bags in Draco’s hand, ashamed that Draco had been looking forward to this for so long and now it had been brought to a horrible end.

It felt like they were out of Hogsmeade and back at Hogwarts in a matter of seconds. Another second, and Draco was shoving Ron into their third floor classroom and slamming the door behind them. He threw the bags to the side and immediately turned on Ron, who had been standing there nervously, waiting for the worst.

“What were you thinking!?” Draco shrieked, and Ron couldn’t tell if he was more angry or genuinely hurt. “I wanted— this was just for you, I wanted to make you happy! But it’s never good enough; I’m not good enough for you!” Draco’s voice had risen to a scream, and tears were streaming unnoticed down his cheeks.

“Draco,” Ron started gently, “it wasn’t what it looked like, I just-”

“Stop it! Stop fucking lying to me! This is all about that mudblood; I’m not stupid, I can see that she wants you, but I never thought that you would-”

“No!” Ron cut in, yelling over him, “If you would just listen to me for a minute-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” Draco screamed, his eyes dark and glinting with anger.

Ron stepped forward towards Draco – and, consequently, the door -, not knowing what he planned on doing; he just had to stop Draco’s insane ideas before they got too out of control. In an instant, Draco sprung forward, his hands latching onto Ron’s throat, and they fell onto the floor in a messy heap, Draco landing heavily on top of Ron. The force of the fall caused Draco’s hands to momentarily crush Ron’s throat under his weight, causing Ron to let out a strangled moan of pain.

“You think you can just walk out of here and leave me like that!?” Draco demanded, his voice high-pitched and hoarse with rage. His hands gripped Ron’s throat tighter, subconsciously enjoying the feeling of Ron’s muscles working desperately beneath his hands, struggling for breath as his trachea was slowly crushed. Ron’s hands grabbed at Draco’s wrists, desperate to pull them away. “You think you could just run away with your little mudblood and forget all about me!?”

Ron shook his head to the best of his ability, squirming futilely under Draco; the lack of oxygen weakening him to the point where he was unable to move out from under him. His mouth opened and closed helplessly a few times, unable to bring forth any sound. But still, even in this moment, even if it meant saving his life, Ron knew he could never, ever hit Draco again. If he couldn’t escape without using violence, then he would have to trust that Draco loved him enough to release him.

Draco’s fingers curled into Ron’s skin, digging his fingernails into the delicate flesh. Ron made a quiet, pained, choking sound, but Draco never heard it. He could only feel the light rumble of it under his hands.

“You’re not to speak to her, do you understand me!?” Draco went on; yanking forward to force Ron’s head off the floor, then immediately slamming it back down with a sickening thud. Ron’s vibrant blue eyes were dimming, losing all their sparkle and life, leaving a dull emptiness. “You’re mine. If I ever see you so much as acknowledge her, I’ll kill her. Then I’ll kill you...”

Ron tried to keep his eyes focused on Draco’s face, but his eyesight was growing dim. Darkness was creeping along the edges of his vision and sparks of colour were dancing in front his eyes; he knew he was on the verge of unconsciousness - maybe even death. But, where else in the world would he rather die? He decided if he had to die at all, the best way would be by Draco’s hand. Right now, in this moment, there was nowhere else he would rather be. He was with Draco, and it didn’t matter if Draco wanted to kill him or kiss him as long as they were together. He clung to consciousness with all his might, sharply refocusing on Draco when he felt tears splatter onto his face.

“... and then I’ll kill me.” Draco choked out, squeezing his eyes shut. His grip slowly loosened, so his hands were just resting on top of Ron’s swollen, bruising throat.

Ron gasped for air, his breaths coming in broken wheezes. He coughed helplessly again and again, trying to refill his lungs with much needed oxygen.

“Please, Ron,” Draco whispered, bowing his head so he didn’t have to look at him, “please don’t do this to me.”

Ron moaned in response, making a breathless sound that sounded vaguely like the first syllable of Draco’s name. Draco glanced back up, studying Ron’s red-splotched face. He dipped down, placing a sweet kiss on Ron’s lips.

“Promise me, Ron, please,” he whispered, letting his lips brush against Ron’s with each word, “promise me you’ll stay away from her.”

“I promise,” Ron managed, his voice raw and broken.

Draco kissed him one last time before pushing himself up off the floor. Ron didn’t bother to get up. With a solemn, almost sad expression, Draco nudged the bags from Hogsmeade toward Ron with his foot. “There’s your stuff,” he said quietly. And with that, he was gone.

Ron refused to move. He lay there on the floor for what felt like hours, panting and crying. Everything had gone so wrong. What was supposed to be their fun day in Hogsmeade was ruined, Draco was upset, and most importantly, Draco’s visit to Madame Pomfrey the previous day had had no effect. If anything, Draco had gotten worse. And that knowledge hurt more than anything else.