A/N- Just a few quick review responses before we get started:

Kattastic999: Just because this is classified as a horror story does not mean every chapter is going to be absolutely terrifying. I find the most effective horror is the type that slowly sneaks up on you throughout the story, building more and more with each chapter. That is how this story is going to be.

laffertyluver23: Thank you so much for your encouraging reviews! I actually felt like the chapters were getting worse as I went, so to know that you think they’re better is excellent news! I hope you enjoy future chapters just as much.

HelloLish: Thanks for your reviews! Ron does blame himself a lot... perhaps there’s a reason for it? You’ll find out very soon!

Chapter V

October 5th 1996

I can’t believe it. I’m truly beyond words at this moment.

We’ve had a few civil conversations lately, a few of them were actually quite friendly and fun, but I never expected... I never knew he would feel the same as me.

He came to me this evening, right after dinner. I had gone out to the lake to clear my mind, and he followed me, saying he had to talk to me.

He loves me, good God, I can’t believe it. Beautiful, perfect, Ron Weasley desires me above anyone else. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m so happy I want to jump out a window, as I’m certain I could fly right now.

However, I am a little concerned. It seems I lost myself in our moment of bliss. Suddenly, I wanted to show him everything I’ve done for him. Tell him how I’ve cried and obsessed over him; tell him how close I came to killing his mudblood to get her out of my way. He’s mine; he’s always been mine, that’s what I said. And it’s true, so very true. If anyone hurts him, I’ll eliminate them. I’ll lie and steal and kill for him, it doesn’t matter. Now that I have him, I’ll give up everything to keep him.

Despite my intentions, I fear I will be the one to hurt him. I wonder if it’s possible to love someone too much...

January 1997

Thursday

Draco returned to his dorm, as he said he would, and quickly dug out some clean clothes. He didn’t have time to really think about what he was doing; he was late enough as it was.

He hurried to the shower, dropped his clean clothes on the floor, turned on the water, stripped, then stepped under the hot stream of water.

A small sigh escaped him as the tension in his muscles melted away. The roaring silence and the steady pounding of water on his back helped clear his head, and he began to think over what had happened that morning.

He knew perfectly well that everything that had happened to Ron was his fault. Even though a large part of him wanted to believe Ron, he found that the truth kept lurking on the very edges of his mind. He tried to explain his behaviour, to justify, and he could only hope Ron believed him. He had to make Ron believe that they always wanted the same thing. He himself believed that.

Draco mechanically shampooed his hair and washed his body, his thoughts never straying from his mistakes. He hated himself for what he had done, but he couldn’t bring it up again. At least he tried to apologise to Ron, he just had to hope that Ron would figure out why.

Right before Draco had left their classroom, he had felt normal again. He was in control. He had been so afraid that Ron wouldn’t want to see him again after what he had done. But maybe it would be better if Ron decided to stay away. At least, that way, Draco would know for sure that Ron was safe.

Even so, he had no intention of ever leaving Ron. If they were going to stop seeing each other, Ron would have to be the one to decide it.

Draco made a small, pained sound at the thought, and forced his eyes closed. He had meant what he said that morning. He would, without hesitation, kill himself if Ron ever left him. But he would never use that as blackmail to keep Ron with him. Ron wouldn’t know anything about it until he discovered the bloodied, mangled mess at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower.

Draco considered that for a moment, then smiled. The fall would probably be exhilarating. But, God, it would be terrible for Ron.

“He won’t leave,” Draco murmured, hardly realising he had said it aloud.

He bowed his head, letting the water pour through his hair and over his face, blurring his vision and dripping down like tears.

“Malfoy, I need to talk to you,” he said quietly, an almost perfect imitation of Ron’s voice.

“Weasley? What is it?” he asked, seamlessly switching back to his own voice.

“It’s just,” he ran his hands up his arms, similar to the way Ron had back in October, “I have to tell you— over these past few months I’ve realised... God, Malfoy, I love you.”

He threw his head back and laughed, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. He ran his hands forcefully over his body; over his shoulders and down his chest, and wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging himself.

“Months!” He repeated harshly, meshing his memory with his own fantasy. “I’ve wanted you for years, Weasley. I’ve stalked you, needed you, I have a fucking journal dedicated to you.” He raked his nails painfully across his back, then slammed his fists against the wall. “I’ve carried a lock of your hair in my pocket every day since September!”

He paused, breathing heavily, glaring at the wall in front of him, listening to a voice only he could hear.

“The showers, Weasley. I watched you. And when you left, I collected your hair from the drain.”

He laughed and spun around, grabbing his hair with both hands. “Look how easily it comes out!” He started to pull, but froze, his eyes widening with shock.

“That’s not right, is it?” he released his hair and turned off the water. “I’ll show you, I’ll show you...”

Ron waited around for awhile, then headed back to the Gryffindor common room, just as Draco told him to. He took a shower and changed clothes, then snuggled up in a chair by the fire. He decided that no one would doubt that he had been sick — he did look pretty miserable.

While he was showering, he had managed to get a good overall analysis of what Draco had done to him. His arms, chest, and hips were covered in dark bruises and scratches. Fortunately, all of them were easily covered up by his usual uniform, so he didn’t have to worry.

The thing he was most concerned about, however, was the one thing he couldn’t see. He was still horribly sore from the sex incident with Draco, but he was relatively certain there was no permanent damage. At least, he hoped there wasn’t, because that was one thing he would be unable to explain to Madame Pomfrey. Fortunately, the pain was already starting to dull.

He hadn’t realised he had fallen asleep until he felt someone gently shaking his shoulder. Ron jumped in surprise.

“Sorry, mate,” Harry said quietly, “didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh, never mind that!” Hermione huffed, pushing Harry out of the way. “Ronald Weasley, where on earth have you been all day!?”

Ron gazed up at her, too tired to really care about the imminent lecture. “I was sick,”

Hermione kneeled down in front of him, getting a good look at his face. “Oh, goodness, I can see that.”

She gently touched the back of her hand to his cheek, checking for fever. He flinched away. She wasn’t allowed to touch him.

“I don’t think you have fever,” she said, a concerned frown still on her face. “But maybe you should go see Madame Pomfr—“

“No!” He snapped.

“If it’s bad enough that you had to skip all of your morning classes, then it’s bad enough for you to go to the hospital wing!”

“I’m fine now!” He growled; slowly, carefully standing up. He couldn’t afford to be anywhere near Madame Pomfrey. No one could find out about him and Draco.

“Why won’t you just go let her have a look!?” Hermione cried, rising to her feet as well.

“Why does it matter!?”

She sighed, defeated. “Can’t you see I’m worried about you?”

“Well, I’m fine,” he said flatly, pushing past her. He felt a little bad for being so harsh to her, but she just couldn’t get involved in this.

“Where are you going?” She called after him, distressed.

“Lunch,” he said shortly, opening the portrait door.

Harry wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, and they followed Ron down the corridors at a distance.

“I’ll talk to him later,” Harry reassured her, rubbing her arm.

She nodded in thanks, and they walked in silence for a few moments.

“Look at him,” she whispered, nodding ahead of them, “he’s walking strangely, isn’t he? Like he's hurt...”

Harry frowned. “Yeah, it looks like it,”

She sighed. “Something’s not adding up. Didn’t you say he wasn’t in his bed this morning?”

“Maybe he was puking in the bathroom?”

“Maybe,” she agreed reluctantly. “I’m just worried. This isn’t like him.”

“I know. I’m worried, too. But I’m sure he has everything under control. If he needed help, he’d ask us.”

“I really hope so,”

Their conversation was brought to an end when they finally entered the crowded Great Hall.

Ron avoided their usual spot, opting to sit by himself at the end of the table. He really didn’t want Hermione interrogating him. And he knew he would eventually run out of excuses, and be forced to go see Madame Pomfrey.

And then there was the Harry problem. He didn’t want Harry nudging him every time Hermione said something mildly flirtatious. He just had too much on his mind to deal with them.

He turned his attention to the Slytherin table, looking for Draco in his usual spot between Crabbe and Goyle.

He wasn’t there.

Ron scanned the table carefully, working across from the far end. So far, nothing. He worked his way down, scanning each face one by one. He finally made it to the end of the table that was directly in front of him, and nearly fell out of his seat in surprise.

Draco was sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table, directly across from Ron. He was staring right at Ron; his posture stiff and rigid. Ron quickly shook off his surprise, smiling a little.

Draco’s blank, intimidating gaze disappeared, immediately replaced with a small, warm smile.

The few lingering doubts Ron hadn’t even realised he had faded away, and he knew Draco still loved him. At first, he had been afraid that Draco’s apology had been some form of a break up, but Draco’s smile told him all he needed to know. He could care less what Draco was apologising for. As long as they were still together, nothing else mattered.

Ron began loading his plate, stealing glances at Draco every now and then. He couldn’t suppress the delighted smile that kept trying to appear on his face every time he caught Draco looking at him, too. Even after so many months of being together, Ron still marvelled at the notion of someone truly wanting to look at him and be around him all the time; especially someone he loved so deeply. It felt like it was something rare and sacred; that few others were able to find such intense, mutual love.

Happier than he had been all week, Ron allowed himself to forget everything that had happened between him and Draco that morning. He would never mention any of it to Draco again, and everything would be fine.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by someone sitting down across from him, blocking his view of Draco.

“We need to talk,” Harry said firmly, glaring at Ron.

“Do we?” Ron asked, failing to cover up his annoyance.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what this about- OW!” Something big and heavy hit Harry in the back of his head. He spun around, glaring irritably at the Slytherin table.

“What?” Ron asked curiously.

“Malfoy threw a potato at me!”

Despite his best attempts, Ron couldn’t hold back his laughter. He leaned around Harry to look at the Slytherin table. Draco had his head buried on his folded arm, his whole body shaking with laughter as he banged on the table with his fist.

“Oh God, I can’t believe he did that!” Ron cried, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

“It’s not funny,” Harry grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry, mate,” Ron laughed.

“You wouldn’t be laughing if he had hit you,”

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” Ron said quickly. Harry stared at him in confusion, but didn’t comment.

“Anyway,” Harry said gingerly, “I wanted to talk to you about how you treated Hermione this morning.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ron said flatly, all traces of humour dissipating.

“But, Ron, you really hurt her feelings.”

“I don’t care!” Ron snapped, slamming his hands down on the table. “It was none of her business!”

“She was worried!”

“For no reason,”

“Look,” Harry said with an exasperated sigh, “I don’t care if you apologise or not. But will you at least make it up to her by taking her to Hogsmeade?”

“I’m going by myself,” Ron lied. But to everyone except him and Draco, he would look as if he were alone.

“That’s stupid. If you’re going to go, at least take her with you! I don’t see how it’s any different than when all three of us go together.”

“Because it will just be the two of us, and she’ll probably think it’s a date!”

“It will be a date! It’s no secret that you two have liked each other for years.”

Ron’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He wanted to scream at Harry for saying something so ridiculous with Draco so close by. “I don’t like her like that anymore,” Ron said slowly, enunciating each word.

Harry stared at him incredulously. “Why not? It’s not like there’s anyone else.”

Ron sighed. He knew this conversation was going to come eventually, and he had been dreading it. “I’m just... I’m not interested in anyone right now.” His voice got quieter and quieter, fading out to almost inaudible by the time he finished. He wanted to slam his head into the table for saying that. Even though he had no choice, he felt like he was betraying Draco.

“Okay, how about this,” Harry said, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. “Just go together, make sure it’s somehow clear that it’s not a date, and see how it goes.”

“If I say yes, will you stop bothering me about it?” Ron mumbled.

“Yes. You know what? We could act like all three of us are going to go together like we always do, then I’ll make up some excuse to stay here at the last minute, so then it will just be you two. Definitely not a date that way.”

“Alright, fine,” Ron sighed, pushing his plate away. He suddenly wasn’t hungry at all- not even for pudding.

“Good,” Harry said with a smile, standing up. “I’ll just go tell her that we’re all going together.”

Harry turned and walked back toward his usual spot across from Hermione, leaving Ron alone in his suddenly foul mood. He glanced over at Draco, who was looking at him in concern.

“What?” Draco mouthed, tilting his head.

Ron shook his head and mouthed the word, “later.”

Draco stared at him a moment longer, then stood up and strode out of the Great Hall. Ron immediately got the message, and continued to pick at his food while he waited for his chance to leave. When the time came, he glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention, then casually exited the Hall.

He figured Draco had gone to the usual unused classroom that they used after meals, so he quickly made his way there. When he arrived, Draco was sitting on a desk, waiting for him.

“What’s going on?” Draco asked immediately, not even waiting for Ron to put up the silencing and locking charms.

He finished the charms before he answered. “Our plans for this weekend have been changed a little.”

Draco pursed his lips and folded his arms in disappointment. “Why?”

“It’s Harry,” Ron sighed, leaning his hip against the side of the desk Draco was sitting on. “He’s been bothering me to ask Hermione to Hogsmeade, and I ran out of excuses.”

“Granger is not going with us,” Draco snapped.

“We have no choice. From Harry’s point of view, there’s no good reason why I shouldn’t take her.”

Draco sighed, staring down at his lap. “I wanted this to just be me and you,”

Ron’s heart broke at Draco’s sad tone. “I know. But listen, this might not be so bad. It’ll look less suspicious for me to walk around with her instead of alone. And really, the only part of your original plan that will change is the part about us walking there together.”

Draco considered that for a minute, then said, “There’s only one way I’ll agree to this.”

Ron gazed down at him, stroking his back gently. “Hm?”

“You have to abandon her when we’re ready to leave so you can walk back with me.”

“I’ll try,” Ron promised.

“Good,” Draco turned toward Ron, adjusting so Ron was between his legs. “I still don’t like it, but the thought of her running around by herself looking for you makes it a lot more appealing.”

Ron laughed and rested his hands on Draco’s shoulders, gently rubbing them. Hermione had lots of friends, she would find someone else to spend the day with if she lost track of Ron, so he didn’t feel any guilt.

Draco hooked his legs around Ron, drawing him closer. “We’ll still have fun. Just remember, you’re there with me, not her, so I better not see you buying her anything.”

“Oh, so I can buy you something?”

Draco smirked, pulled Ron down, and touched their lips together. “I have everything I need,” he murmured.

Ron smiled against Draco’s lips, bracing his hands on the desk on either side of Draco to keep his balance.

Draco tilted his head and fully pressed his lips against Ron’s, kissing him softly.

“I love you, Draco,” Ron whispered, running his lips down to Draco’s neck, “more than you can ever imagine.”

Draco let out a quiet moan and let his head fall back, allowing Ron full access to his neck.

Ron wanted to mark him so badly; cover his neck in small, red love bites, showing the world that they belong together. But he never would, he knew how hard they would be to cover. Instead, he just carefully ghosted his lips along Draco’s throat, trailing gentle kisses along with the occasional lick.

Draco closed his eyes, purring in contentment. Ron was always so overwhelmingly gentle, but not annoyingly so. Every touch was light, perfect, and reverent. He gave enough to keep Draco in ultimate bliss, but held back enough to keep him wanting more.

Ron moved back up to Draco’s lips; a gentle, lingering touch. He rested his hand on the back of Draco’s head, carefully holding him in place. Their lips parted ever so slightly, and they lightly brushed their tongues together.

With one last peck, Ron pulled back and wrapped his arms around Draco. Draco leaned close, resting his head against Ron’s chest while Ron buried his face in Draco’s hair.

“I love you,” Ron whispered again, still trying to make up for not responding to Draco like he should have that morning.

Draco wiggled happily and wrapped his arms and legs tighter around Ron. Ron laughed quietly and kissed the top of Draco’s head.

“I guess we should go,” Ron said regretfully. “You go ahead and go first this time, I’ll—“

“We can go together.” Draco interrupted, pushing Ron back so he could stand. “There’s no one around.”

“I don’t know...”

“Oh, come on,” Draco huffed, pushing Ron toward the door, “this is getting ridiculous.”

“I just don’t want us to get caught.” Ron protested weakly, following Draco out the door.

“Look,” Draco said dryly, indicating the empty corridor. “No one’s around, just like I said.”

Ron sighed and closed the door behind them. “We got lucky. Now I’ve got to get to Transfiguration, so I’ll see you in Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“Wait a minute,” Draco snapped irritably, grabbing Ron’s arm as he turned to leave. “You can’t just leave me like that.”

“Draco,” Ron whispered desperately, “not here. I’ll make it up to you tonight, I promise.”

Draco grabbed Ron’s other arm, turned, and slammed him up against the wall. A small, pained gasp escaped Ron, but he didn’t push Draco away.

“Now,” Draco demanded.

“Draco, no. Everyone will be heading to class any minute now. This isn’t a good time.”

“Kiss me,” Draco whispered, brushing his lips against Ron’s. His hands still gripped Ron’s arms painfully.

Ron squirmed half-heartedly, but Draco’s hold on him only tightened. Finally, he leaned forward and kissed Draco’s lips chastely, hoping that if he did what Draco said, they could get out of such a dangerous position before it was too late.

“You were so nice to me a minute ago,” Draco mumbled, sliding his hand between Ron’s legs. “Perhaps I should return the favour.”

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Ron stammered, looking around the corridor frantically.

“Hush,” Draco whispered, crushing his lips against Ron’s again. The sound of Ron’s startled protest was drowned out by the loud chime of the bell ringing, signalling lunch was over.

“Draco, please stop, you have to stop.” Ron begged as Draco slowly sank to his knees.

“You stop,” Draco said angrily, glaring up at Ron. “I’m sick of hearing you whine every time I try to do something nice for you.”

Ron flinched, stung by Draco’s words. He didn’t know what to do; his mind was reeling, searching for a solution.

“So if you rape me...” Draco’s chilling words from that morning slowly came back to him.

Ron closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the wall, praying that this would end quickly. He could hear murmuring voices in the distance, and he knew at any moment, they would be heading in their direction. All it would take is one glimpse, and he and Draco would be ruined.

“...that can only mean I want to be raped.”

Draco leisurely unzipped Ron’s trousers and slipped his hand inside. He smirked up at Ron.

“Looks like you want this after all,” he drawled.

“But then it’s not really rape at all, is it?”

“It’s because—“ Ron started, gasping loudly as Draco slowly took him into his mouth. Draco’s hands had moved down to Ron’s hips, holding them tightly. “You want it. So... so I want it, too,” he managed, struggling to keep from groaning.

Draco let out a pleased hum, sending shockwaves through Ron’s body. Ron vaguely noticed that the voices were slowly getting louder, and he struggled to bring forth the willpower to push Draco away, but he just couldn’t do it. Draco wanted this, so he wanted it, too. They were the same, weren’t they?

The voices had switched from murmurings to distinct words, and Ron could hear footsteps heading their way. He panicked, his mind playing out several different scenarios in which Harry, Hermione, or a teacher discovered them. This couldn’t be happening; they couldn’t have lasted for so many months, just to be discovered like this.

“God, Draco, come on,” he urged breathlessly, trying to thrust his hips forward. Draco still held him firmly in place.

Fortunately, Draco complied. All of the light teasing stopped, and Draco fully engulfed him in his mouth. He pulled back ever so slowly, visibly rubbing his tongue against the tip. His hands finally released their grip on Ron’s hips, and began gently stroking Ron’s thighs.

Ron’s hips surged forward, and Draco backed off, making a small, wet choking noise. He didn’t stop, however. His hands instantly moved to make up the difference, while he purposely let out heavy breaths on Ron; each breath a cool, overwhelming stab of pleasure.

As soon as Draco’s breath returned, he sunk back down again, resuming his original pattern. Ron groaned loudly and unsteadily, gazing down at Draco through half-closed eyes, struggling to keep breathing. Draco glanced up at Ron, his eyes dark and nearly vacant with lust.

That was it. That moment of eye contact was all Ron needed. He came in Draco’s mouth with a sudden, ragged moan; bracing his hands on Draco’s shoulders to keep from collapsing. Draco remained on his knees for a short moment, taking deep, strained breaths. He zipped Ron’s trousers and slowly stood back up.

His cheeks were tinged pink and he was panting slightly, but other than that, he looked as if nothing had happened. How he managed to keep his lips from swelling, Ron would never know. Draco smirked and leaned in; kissing the side of Ron’s parted lips.

“See you later,” he whispered huskily, shifting slightly. With that, he turned and quickly strode down the corridor to his next class.

Ron groaned and leaned his head back against the wall, fighting exhaustion and struggling to catch his breath. He wanted to be aggravated, but he couldn’t manage to bring forth anger after that. He smiled despite himself, closing his eyes. Draco was simply incredible.

“Ron? Are you alright?”

Ron turned his head, wearily opening his eyes to look in the direction of the voice. Neville stood at the end of the corridor, having just turned the corner. Harry, Hermione, and Seamus appeared behind him, peaking around the corner at Ron.

“’m fine,” Ron mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands.

“You look dreadful,” Hermione said gently, moving closer as the others followed her. Other students started filling the corridor now, all hurrying to their classes. “Your face is flushed, and you look all dazed... I told you, you should have gone to go see Madame Pomfrey.”

Ron moved from slouching against the wall to stand firmly in front of Hermione. He ignored the small sting of pain that still lingered from the night before.

“I said I’m fine,” he said stiffly. He forced away the panicky feeling that still tormented him from the edge of his mind. It was worse now, especially since he knew that if they had taken just a little longer, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Seamus would have seen everything. But he would give himself time to stress about that later. For now, he had to remain calm.

“Hermione’s right,” Neville said timidly, picking at the edge of his robe. “You do look rather ill... and Gran told me that ignoring obvious signs of illness can lead to serious—“

“I’m fine!” Ron said loudly, abruptly cutting Neville off, and earning some strange stares from a few students passing by. Ron ignored them. “Why can’t you all just leave me alone!?”

Instead of waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away towards Transfiguration class.

Ron couldn’t force back the fear that, at any moment, everything he had worked so hard for would come crashing down. He couldn’t allow that to happen; not again. Every good thing that ever happened in his life always got ripped away from him, and he was sick of it. He had to keep Draco with him, even if it killed him.