My self-imposed challenge? Write a fic with no dialogue. The result? A Ron/Draco production brought to you by I like cheese. Feedback is appreciated. Written extremely fast (like under an hour).


It always started by the lake, the cool water making them shiver and move closer. It always ended with a blown kiss near the main entrance, where they'd stand at for long amounts of time, not wanting to leave each other. It always happened on Tuesday's if it was sunny, and if it wasn't then it was always Thursday. It always happened after quidditch, when forgotten tears would splash at their toes, making them shiver in a different way.

It always made Ron want to cry after it was over. It was moments like those that made his heart sing. Moments when he could hold the one he adored in his arms and no one could touch them. It broke his heart when they had to part, and it made him only wish for the next Tuesday to come.

Draco wasn't ashamed of Ron, but ashamed of his weakness. He believed everything that his father told him, good or bad, and that included the Weasley family. He tried so hard not to give in to his crush on Ron, but it didn't work. He'd fallen for him, and made him question everything else his father said.

Quidditch was the thing that brought them together. Ron wasn't very good and Draco never won against Gryffindor. It happened when Draco was upset after losing. He was sitting outside with his head in his hands when arms wrapped around him, whispering soft words. Draco hadn't cared who said them, just that they were said, and that they were meant for him. When it turned out to be Ron he couldn't believe it. His brain told him to push him away, but his heart told him to hold him back and never let go. Guess which one won?

Ron hadn't told anyone, even Hermione and Harry. Especially Hermione and Harry. He didn't think anyone would understand, they probably wouldn't have.

It was Tuesday again. Hands were intwined and mouths were connected. It was absolute completion once again. The trees shading them from view. Leaves fell on their head, but didn't disrupt them. They were in their own world, and they didn't want to leave until they were dragged out kicking and screaming.

But perfection can't last forever. It was a card house waiting to tumble, and Harry picked the right card to do it. Being concerned about a friend can lead you to following them. Following them can lead you to their most personal secret. And secrets are secrets for a reason.

Ron was right about them not understanding. No one understood Draco or their connection like he did. He was the only one who could fell the way he felt and words couldn't express it.

A cold December kept them from each other. They fell asleep cold and alone. Ron's tears didn't warm him, nor did the extra blankets on his bed. Harry didn't say anything about Draco, and neither did Ron. Not one of the Gryffindor trio knew the words to say, because so many had came out wrong it seemed hopeless.

On New Years Eve, Dumbledore had a little party. There were only 7 kids besides himself, one being Draco himself. They didn't talk all night, and Draco quietly drank punch and swayed to the music. Come midnight he didn't expect anything. He expected few people in the room to celebrate with a kiss. He was glad, because that was all he need - love being shoved in his face.

Then Draco came up and extended his hand, which Ron steadily took. He looked him straight in the eyes, and Ron was so spellbound he didn't even hear the countdown, all he knew was that about 10 seconds later, Draco was kissing him and he was complete again. Every person in the room who wasn't attached to someone else, clapped. That few people made quite a commotion.

Next Tuesday they lay by the lake, fingers intwined, the wind gently whispering in their ears, and everything was as it should be. Warm and happy, with everyone's blessing. There didn't seem cause for tears now, unless they were tears of happiness.


It was originally going to be a ton less fluffy. Went downhill.