Chapter XIII

January 3rd 1997

He’s back. He’s finally back. I waited for him all day outside the front doors. I thought I was dreaming when I finally saw him. I was thinking a million things at once but I knew all I wanted to do was run into his arms and never ever leave. But I couldn’t – not yet – not with so many people around. All I could do was look at him and hope he realised that, when we made eye contact and I turned around and left, I wanted him to follow me. He did. He actually did. We met up in the classroom on the third floor, and I finally got to hold him. It was so perfect, so right, and I didn’t even realise I was crying until he wiped my tears away. I couldn’t bring myself to let go of him, but he didn’t notice, because he never stopped holding me either. All we could do was stand there and kiss again and again and neither of us could even say anything because this was right and perfect and there was nothing that could ever take it away from us again.

January 1997

Sunday morning

When Ron’s eyes fluttered open again, the room was completely dark. He instinctually nestled deeper into his bed, preparing to fall back asleep again, when a sudden realisation jolted him fully awake. He had fallen asleep in his dorm, the other boys were snoring, and oh my God, he had forgotten about Draco.

Ron yanked open his curtains, frantically looking toward the clock, hoping it wouldn’t be too late. It was already three in the morning. Cursing himself, Ron stumbled out of bed and left the dorm room as silently and quickly as he could. He doubted Draco would still be in their classroom when he arrived, but he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least check. The fear of what Draco would do if Ron never showed up was too much to handle.

His mind was so focused on guilt that he didn’t even realise he had made it all the way down to the third floor until he was standing right in front of the door to their classroom. As much as he wanted Draco to be in there so he could explain, a small part of Ron was hoping the room would be empty. He pushed those thoughts away, ashamed of himself for thinking it.

When he pushed the door open, he was surprised to see Draco sitting on a desk, staring in his direction as if he had been waiting for Ron this whole time.

“Draco...”

“You’re late,” Draco said hollowly, keeping his eyes trained on Ron.

“I’m sorry,” Ron responded softly, flicking his wand to cast the silencing and locking charms on the door.

Draco’s eyes shifted over to Ron’s wand, watching the movement, then flicked back over to Ron’s face. “You’re late.”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” He stepped as close to Draco as he dared; close enough to touch, but far enough away to run if needed. “I fell asleep... accidently. I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve been waiting.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Ron had never been at more of a loss. He was afraid to act normal, to take Draco into his arms and kiss him and love him. He felt as if he had to be careful about everything he said or did, in fear that it would make Draco angry again. But the most worrying thought was that Draco still seemed distant and cruel. Despite the obvious, Ron wouldn’t admit to himself that his Draco was gone for good.

“You promised me.”

“I know.” With a deep breath to steady himself, Ron took the necessary step to place himself between Draco’s legs, and timidly brought his hands up to rest on Draco’s shoulders. They hesitated there for a moment, then tentatively moved up to gently cup Draco’s face. “It won’t happen again.”

“I should hope not,” Draco said, his voice finally showing a bit of emotion. The small, happier tone of approval in his voice was enough to give Ron the courage to dip down and press a kiss to Draco’s forehead.

“I love you.”

Draco’s arms slid around Ron’s body, pulling him as close as he could. “You’re mine.”

“Yes.”

“And you abandoned me.”

“No,” Ron said quickly, worriedly, “Never.”

Draco pulled back, looking at Ron’s jumper. “This is ugly,” he murmured, wrinkling his nose as he tugged at the rough fabric. “Take it off.”

Ron hesitated for the briefest of moments, then stepped back enough to allow himself to pull the jumper off without hitting Draco in the process. He dropped it carelessly on the floor and stepped back into Draco’s waiting arms.

“Good,” Draco said with a nod, kissing Ron’s chest as his hands rubbed Ron’s back.

Ron breathed a soft sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders, hugging him tight, his fingers tangling in Draco’s silky hair. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe he had been worrying for no reason.

“I can’t let you forget,” Draco whispered, his breath brushing against Ron’s skin teasingly. “You won’t forget me again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Draco’s hands slid around to Ron’s chest, pushing him away slightly. “You have no idea. I waited, and waited-”

“It was an accident,” Ron said earnestly. A small bit of panic was beginning to grip him once more, making itself evident in his voice.

“- and you never came! You always forget me, always abandon me, I won’t let you do this to me anymore!” He pulled out his wand as his legs slid around Ron’s waist, holding him in place.

“Draco, I swear it was an accident. You know I’d never leave you on purpose.”

“I have to know. I have to make sure you never forget who you belong to again.” With that, Draco flicked his wand, muttering the same incantation that had turned the tip of it into a blade. Ron’s breath hitched in fear – he had had enough, he didn’t want to go through this again.

“Draco, no,” he said firmly, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. “Just put your wand away.”

Draco ignored him, touching the tip of the blade to the centre of Ron’s chest. “You’re mine,” he whispered, letting the blade sink in.

Ron whimpered a small pained noise and his body instinctually tried to lean backwards, away from the pain. Draco’s legs tightened around him, and his arm slid around to Ron’s upper back, keeping him close.

“Stay still,” Draco said quietly, surprising Ron with his soft tone. Draco glanced up, meeting Ron’s eyes. The blade was still poised in his hand, puncturing Ron’s skin, and a small trickle of blood was beginning to make its way down Ron’s body. They stared at each other for an uneasy moment, a silent sort of conversation passing between them. Finally, Ron bowed his head and closed his eyes in resignation, holding his breath to try to keep himself from trembling. He would do whatever Draco wanted.

“Good boy,” Draco whispered fondly, leaning up to kiss Ron’s neck. He slowly began to move the blade down, making a thin line. “You deserve this.”

Ron bit his lip to hold back a cry, silently screaming for this to end soon. Maybe he did deserve this – he did keep Draco waiting for hours. That wasn’t fair. And this punishment really would ensure that it wouldn’t happen again.

Draco continued to slowly carve into Ron’s chest, making sure every line was precisely how he wanted it. Blood continued to spill forth, coating Ron’s chest and stomach and seeping into his trousers. It looked marvellous – shining and scarlet – and all Draco wanted to do was lean forward and suck Ron’s life into his mouth, cover himself with it. But no, he had a job to do. Ignoring the delicious hiss of the blade as it sliced open Ron’s skin, Draco continued to work.

Ron shifted uncomfortably, a small moan escaping from his throat. He felt moisture on his face, dripping down to mix with his blood, and he wouldn’t allow himself to believe they were tears. It was just sweat, surely. How could he possibly have any tears left?

“Shh, Ron,” Draco whispered, sounding almost comforting. “I’m almost finished.”

Ron nodded slightly but said nothing – there was nothing to say. This would soon be over, and he would be all the wiser for it. No more fighting it, there was never an escape, but why should there be a reason for him to want to escape from someone he loved?

With one last flourish and a sharp sting of pain for Ron, Draco pulled his wand away and ran his hand admiringly over his work, smearing the blood around. The cuts were soft ridges under his hand; his seal forever embossed onto Ron’s body. He lifted his hand and gently pressed it – fingers splayed – against Ron’s arm, making a bloodied handprint there. He smiled and shifted his gaze to Ron’s face.

“Look,” he said quietly, and Ron opened his eyes. Draco touched his index finger to the cuts, tracing over them. “D,” he announced, tracing over the first jagged letter, “M.” He looked back up into Ron’s eyes.

Ron was staring at his chest in a mixture of shock and horror. He didn’t know what to think – a part of him was horrified that Draco would do this to him at all; while his more panicky side was thinking about what a bad idea it was to have Draco’s initials on his chest. And worst of all, it hurt. Badly. With every breath, he could feel the lines and curves of the letters stretch and sting, and he had a fleeting fear that they would never heal at all.

“Mine,” Draco whispered, leaning up to touch his lips to Ron’s. “Now you won’t forget. I’ll always be right here-” he cupped his hands over the bloody letters, “-next to your heart.”

There was silence for a few moments; there was nothing left to be said. Finally, Ron tried once more,

“I... I’m sorry... Really.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Draco gently caressed Ron’s cheek with the back of his fingers, gazing up at Ron with a sparkling, beautiful adoration in his eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“You know I won’t,” Ron answered softly. He took Draco’s hand and moved it over to his lips, letting them graze gently over his knuckles. When he felt the slick wetness of blood sliding across his lips, however, he abruptly pulled Draco’s hand away.

There was blood all over Draco’s perfect, pale hand; coating his fingers, caked under and around his nails. The contrast between the dark red and the white of Draco’s skin might have been pretty if it weren’t so utterly morbid.

“Um,” Ron started, but quickly trailed off. What could he possibly say?

“Hmm?” Draco wiggled his fingers, waiting for Ron to speak again... or release his hand. It didn’t matter, really.

“You...” Ron stopped himself again, thinking through what he wanted to say. He certainly didn’t want to upset Draco again. His Draco still existed somewhere, and there had to be a way to get through to him without getting hurt again. Ron swallowed heavily and forced back his tears, determined never to cry about this again. He had to persevere; he had to be with Draco forever. “You have blood under your nails,” Ron said finally. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

Draco looked down at his hand in surprise, as if he were noticing it for the first time. “Ew,” he muttered faintly, carefully pulling his hand out of Ron’s grasp to study it. “That’s – hmm...”

Ron bit back a smile, waiting – waiting for Draco’s eyes to light up again, waiting for that awful blank expression to disappear, waiting for the warmth and love and happiness to come back. Instead, Draco brought his fingers up to his nose, delicately sniffing them. Before Ron could say anything to stop him, Draco took two of his fingers into his mouth, giving them a sharp suck before letting them slide out again – wet and shining and still lightly streaked with red.

There was still blood packed heavily under his nails, looking almost black, revealing every ridge and imperfection on his otherwise perfectly manicured hands. He picked at one of his nails with great concentration, hardly noticing when Ron tried to speak to him again.

“It’ll be alright,” Draco muttered instead, bringing his index finger up to his mouth, biting on his nail. “It’s alright, I’ll take care of it, it’s okay.” His voice was muted and slurred around his finger as he bit and tore at his nail with a vicious intensity; his nail snapping loudly in the quiet room as it broke.

“Draco,” Ron gasped, impulsively grabbing Draco’s hand and pulling it away. His ruined fingernail dangled perilously - swaying in a way that might have been comical if it weren’t so completely disturbing - the tip of it dark with Ron’s blood. Draco had always liked looking nice – to know that he was losing that side of himself unnerved Ron endlessly.

“I fix it,” Draco said with mocking cuteness. His piercing giggle rang through the room then, sending chills up and down Ron’s spine as the pitch fluctuated.

“Okay, okay, stop,” Ron said frantically, all rational thought abandoning him. His hands wouldn’t stop moving; he held Draco’s hand one way, then instantly moved to hold it differently – sometimes caressing, sometimes grasping. With a desperate, panicky need to do something, anything, he grabbed the dark, dangling bit of nail between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it off and immediately dropping it to the floor as if that would somehow set things right again.

“Oh, ouch,” Draco said absently, focusing on his torn nail. “Oh, ow, Ron, ouch.” He giggled again, as if he had told the greatest joke in the world.

“Draco, Draco, love, listen to me,” Ron said wretchedly, continuing to wring his hands around Draco’s. “I -”

“Oh, you do love me, Ron, don’t you?”

“Of... of course. So much - so very much.”

Draco rolled his head back, closing his eyes as he let out a high, contented hum. “We fixed it, didn’t we?”

Ron hesitated, staring at the elegant line of Draco’s neck as if it would give him all the answers. “What?”

“Oh!” Draco’s head snapped forward, looking as if it should just break and fall off like that awful dangling nail. If Ron could just pull his little head off, let it fall to the floor... Ron cringed, hating himself for even thinking that. “Stay with me tonight. I know the perfect place.”

“Draco,” Ron whispered waveringly.

“No one ever uses it... It’ll just be me and you.”

Ron pulled one of his hands away and covered his mouth, closing his eyes as he relived that very conversation in his mind. But Draco’s voice in the memory had been sharp and clear. Now it was mocking, almost vicious, but with a strange sort of sincerity that hurt so deeply.

“See, here we are,” Draco continued lightly, swinging his legs with a sort of dark bliss. “I bet you’ve never even noticed it before, have you?”

Thoughtlessly, Ron shook his head, playing along with the conversation.

“And look, we can transfigure that desk...” Draco flicked his wand, and the long teacher’s desk transfigured into their usual bed.

“It’s perfect,” Ron whispered.

“I knew you’d love it,” Draco crooned, reaching up with his free hand to stroke Ron’s cheek. “And you’ll stay with me tonight, too,” he added, suddenly back in the present, his finger trailing down Ron’s face to trace over the bruises on his neck in an almost threatening way. “Because you love me, and you’d feel guilty if you left, wouldn’t you?”

Ron nodded – it was the absolute truth.

“And tomorrow night, and the night after that – you’ll stay.”

Ron nodded once more.

“Because you love me.” It wasn’t quite a question, but Ron felt obligated to answer anyway.

“I love you,” he confirmed.

“And if I locked you up here, if I never let you leave -”

“Draco, please,” Ron said miserably, his hold on Draco’s hand tightening. “I’ll love you no matter what you do.” His free hand unconsciously moved to his chest, a silent indication that he didn’t harbour any hate toward Draco for what he had done.

“And if I kill her?” Draco’s giggling started up once more and he threw his head back, staring up at the dark ceiling as his body shook with his growing laughter.

“Please stop this, please. Just look at me, talk to me, do something normal just so I know you can – Draco, please!” Ron’s voice continued to rise so he could be heard over Draco’s laughter, but Draco didn’t seem to notice. Ron’s hands finally moved from Draco’s hand and up to his shoulders, shaking him lightly. “Draco, Draco, please – you’re so perfect, so beautiful – Draco... please come back to me, I can’t do this! I need you!”

“I’ll lock you up tight so you can’t stop me -”

“Draco.”

“And I’ll drag her out of bed, and she’ll scream – so, so loud – but no one will wake, no one will save her because they’re dead, too.”

“Draco, please...” Ron sank down to his knees between Draco’s legs, his hands resting lightly on the backs of Draco’s calves.

Draco tilted his head to stare down at Ron, his insane babbling never ceasing. “And I’ll drag her down the stairs by her ugly hair and throw her to the ground – and she’ll be so scared, so marvellously scared – she’ll beg for me to spare her, she’ll make countless empty promises to save her stupid mudblood life -”

“Stop,” Ron begged in a harsh whisper, his eyes squeezing shut in a futile attempt to block the images that were pouring into his mind with Draco’s words.

“And I’ll slash her throat, crush her head between my hands – no magic, no, I want to feel her body break.” Draco’s fingers began trailing gently through Ron’s hair as if he were speaking words of comfort and love. Ron’s whimpered protests went completely unheard. “First I’ll rip out her eyes so she can never look at you again-”

“No.”

“And then I’ll cut out her tongue – sew her mouth closed, maybe... let her drown in her own filthy blood.”

Ron was so tempted to cover his ears – to do anything that would keep him from hearing this. But he couldn’t. Draco wanted him to hear, to know what would happen if Ron didn’t keep his promise and stay away from her. He had to listen, there was no other option.

“Maybe her hands next... to keep her from touching you. Shall I crush them? Or rip her fingers off one by one and let her suffer... Suffer like I suffer every time I see her hanging on you.” Draco’s voice grew colder, more vicious, than ever before.

“She’s nothing to me, Draco, nothing,” Ron whispered pleadingly, looking up at Draco with glassy eyes. “You don’t have to do this – I won’t speak to her again.”

“I know you won’t,” Draco murmured, caressing Ron’s cheek. Ron turned his head to the side, burying his face against Draco’s knee as he tried to collect his thoughts. They sat in silence for a moment, Draco continuing to pet Ron with an absentminded affection.

Draco sighed heavily and Ron’s attention immediately snapped back up to his face, noticing for the first time how tired Draco looked. It was no wonder, really, since he had been sitting there for at least four hours – maybe more. But he looked so normal in that moment. There was no viciousness, no cruel hunger for destruction... he just looked exhausted, defeated. Had it all been in Ron’s mind? Was there nothing wrong with Draco after all?

Ron slowly stood back up, feeling the drying blood on his body crackle and stretch with the movement, Draco’s eyes following him the whole time. Pushing all of the disturbing images of Hermione aside, Ron wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders and pulled him forward and up, letting their lips brush as Draco slipped gracefully off the desk to stand in front of Ron. Draco’s arms stretched up into the air and he let out a tight breath, almost a yawn, then let his arms fall on Ron’s shoulders, linking lazily around his neck.

“You need to sleep,” Ron whispered, nuzzling Draco’s cheek. He hated himself for feeling a twinge of fear when he felt Draco move, cuddling closer to him. His arms slipped down around Draco’s waist, holding him close, and suddenly, everything was okay again - just like every other night. It was so easy to pretend that nothing bad had happened, that Draco wasn’t losing his mind – no, he was not, he was just easily upset – that there was no pain, no hate; it was just the two of them once again, the two of them and their endless love for one another.

“Only if you’ll come with me,” Draco answered, his hold on Ron tightening possessively. Or maybe, Ron decided, it wasn’t possessive at all. It was simply needy, loving – everything that Draco had always been.

“Always.”

Everything could go back to normal; they could be like this forever if Ron would just stop interacting with Hermione. It was that simple. Maybe Draco had never been the problem – it was Ron all along. If he hadn’t been so insistent with his silly friendships, they wouldn’t be having this problem. Ron knew that now. It would be hard to give up, but he knew he had to for Draco’s sake. No one would get hurt, not if Ron could stop it.

“Come on,” he said gently, taking Draco’s hands in his own and leading him toward the bed. Draco followed automatically, not thinking about anything else but the sheer joy that Ron was choosing to stay with him. He owned Ron and Ron knew it. There was nothing more perfect than that.

“I want to sleep in late tomorrow,” Draco murmured, pulling at his clothes as they settled into bed. “Like, noon or something.”

“We can’t,” Ron answered softly, careful to make sure he didn’t sound too demanding as he tossed the last of their clothes onto the floor, “we have to go back to our dorms in a few hours.” He wrapped his arms around Draco, stroking the soft, perfect skin of his back with excessive care and reverence.

“We’re staying,” Draco snapped, though his actions were a lot softer than his words. He settled against Ron’s side, fitting their bodies together and resting his head on Ron’s chest. “This is your fault anyway.”

Ron cringed, stung by Draco’s words, but said nothing for a long moment. It was the truth, after all. Draco lost sleep because of Ron, so it only made sense for Ron to make a sacrifice for Draco, too.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice soft and careful, “Whatever you want.”

“Good.” Draco tilted his head, kissing the underside of Ron’s jaw. His tongue darted out, tracing over Ron’s pulse point. He shifted suddenly, rolling halfway on top of Ron, dropping kisses down his neck and along his collar bone.

Ron ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, letting out a small, satisfied moan. Draco leaned up, catching Ron’s lips with his own, and Ron immediately allowed him entry. It was soft, but somehow needy – a feverish rush of emotion that neither of them wanted to end. Ron’s hands found their way to Draco’s hips, and he pulled Draco fully on top of himself. Draco easily fell into the new position, straddling Ron and pushing himself up for a better angle, their lips never parting.

It was perfection. Nothing felt different or strained or wrong – this was how it had been for months and Ron couldn’t get enough of it. He would sacrifice everything for this one moment – to hold Draco in his arms and never let go, feeling their bodies pressed together as their lips and tongues caressed.

“I don’t want to hide this anymore,” Draco whispered, his lips brushing against Ron’s.

Ron hesitated, so tempted to agree, but he knew the consequences would be ghastly. Giving himself a moment to think, he leaned up and pressed another flurry of soft kisses against Draco’s lips. He felt Draco smiling against his lips, and Ron mouthed the words, “then we won’t hide it,” but he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

“Hm?”

Ron forced himself to pull away and stare into Draco’s eyes. It was now or never, this could change everything. Some things might get better, yes, but didn’t the bad things outweigh the good? It was impossible to know, but Ron knew there was no other option. He took a deep breath and said the words that he didn’t want to say, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” It was impossible to tell if Draco was angry or just sad.

“Well, we can,” Ron amended, eager to please, “but not now – not yet. Just think, you know what would happen. You know that your family would hate it.”

Draco was already shaking his head. “I don’t care about my family. None of that matters anymore!” He slammed his fists down in a burst of anger – he was tired of this. “I don’t care what happens, I just can’t let this be a secret anymore! Not if you’re going to get tired of me because we can’t-”

“Oh, is that what this about?” Ron asked, unable to keep the smile from sneaking onto his face.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Draco growled, suddenly angry.

“No, I’m not. Not really, it’s just... I can’t believe you think I’d get tired of you.”

Draco glared at him; a million thoughts rushing through his head, too many for him to even begin to comprehend them. All he could do was let the words spill out. “I saw you with her! I saw how you didn’t push her away! Do you think I’m stupid? You want that, you want to be able to touch someone without having to hide it, I know you do!”

“Shh, Draco...” Ron ran his fingers through Draco’s hair comfortingly, leaning up to kiss him. “I do want that, you’re right. But not with anyone other than you.”

“You’ll have it, then,” Draco murmured, his voice making it sound like a threat.

Ron sighed, letting the subject drop. It would be easier just to let Draco say whatever he wanted to say without arguing it. Maybe avoiding confrontation would make all the difference.

“Come here,” Ron said gently, wrapping his arms around Draco’s shoulders and pulling him down to rest against his chest. “Sleep, okay?”

Grumbling incoherently, Draco snuggled up on top of Ron, burying his face in Ron’s neck. Ron kept his arms wrapped protectively around Draco, holding him tight in the way he knew that Draco loved. Everything would work out somehow - Ron would make sure of that.