FIC: "See No Evil" R/D, NC-17, Part III
Author: TheGiantSquid
Title: See No Evil
Pairing: Ron/Draco, Ron/OMC; past Ron/Hermione, unrequited Ron/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After Draco is blinded in an accident that wasn’t quite an accident after all, Ron takes him in and soon discovers that not everything or everyone is as it seems.
Warnings: Character death (pre-story), rimming, clichés…
Part I | Part II | Part III
Ron had never felt so helpless since Ginny’s death all those years ago. He had managed to get Draco and Hermione safely to St. Mungo’s, and now he, Draco, Harry, Luna, and Neville were sitting in the waiting room to the Labor and Delivery section of the hospital. Draco was asleep in the chair next to Ron, snoring softly; his head wound had been cleaned and healed after they had arrived. Harry was pacing back and forth in the small room, Luna was staring at people in turn, and Neville’s head was buried in his hands. Ron couldn’t tell if he was awake or not.
Hermione had been immediately ushered into the maternity ward upon her arrival, but they had not heard anything from the Healers since. That had been almost three hours ago. Meanwhile, Ron’s fury was growing the longer they waited for news on Hermione and the baby. He was about to go into the delivery room himself and demand some answers when the door to the waiting area opened. His heart sunk, however, when it revealed only Tonks on the other side.
“Harry?” she said quietly. “I need to speak with you.”
Ron watched as his best friend strode out of the room and then turned his attention back to the room; he started slightly when he saw that Luna was staring at him.
She smiled and whispered, “How long?”
Blinking, Ron cocked his head and said, “How long what?”
Luna stood and walked over to where Ron was sitting and squatted in front of him. She nodded her head towards Draco. “How long have you been together?”
He gaped at her and flushed. “We’re not dating,” he said quickly. “Draco’s staying with me because of his eyesight.”
She stared owlishly at him with wide blue eyes, causing Ron’s hairs to stand on end, when the door to the room opened again. This time, Richard was standing on the other side of it. “Neville Longbottom?”
Neville’s head snapped up and he shot out of his chair. “That’s me,” he said breathlessly.
Richard looked determinedly at Neville, refusing to set eyes on Ron or Draco, and said, “Hermione’s fine and so is the baby. There was some internal bleeding, but we were able to stop it and safely deliver the baby. You can come and see them now.” Neville sprinted out of the room and Richard followed, still not acknowledging Ron. Harry came into the room a second later.
“Hermione and the baby are fine,” Ron told him. Luna stood up and walked over to Harry, hugging him. They stood together, embracing, for several minutes, and Ron felt something in his chest break. He averted his eyes, which landed on Draco’s sleeping form. His face was very close to Ron’s, with puffs of air ruffling his hair ever so slightly.
He started when a hand touched his shoulder. Looking up, he found Harry watching him with an odd look in his eye; Luna was nowhere to be seen.
“Wake him up,” Harry whispered, motioning towards Draco. Ron shook his shoulder slightly, and Draco mumbled something before his eyes fluttered open.
“Wassit?” he mumbled.
“Draco, Harry needs to talk to us,” Ron murmured. Draco’s eyes opened more fully and he pushed himself into a sitting position.
“What is it?” he asked, rubbing at his neck.
Harry frowned and pulled up a chair so that he could sit facing the two of them. “We have some new information about the explosion,” he began, looking exhausted. “After the Aurors distinguished the fire, they found evidence of a bomb. Someone planted it there on purpose...” Harry trailed off and briefly closed his eyes. “We have reason to believe that...that Malfoy was the target of the attack,” he said at last.
“What?” Ron blurted, staring at Harry incredulously. “How the hell would you know something like that?”
Shaking his head quickly, Harry turned to Draco and asked, “Malfoy, do you know of anyone who would have a personal grudge against you or your family?”
“Everyone,” Draco said meekly; Ron had never heard him sound like that before. “Purebloods hate me because I fought with you; Death Eaters hate me because I betrayed them; everyone else hates me because of my father or my name.”
“This is absurd,” snapped Ron, feeling out of control.
“Ron,” Harry said patiently, “the magical components and signatures at the explosions in the potions lab and at the apothecary are identical. They were from the same wand, ergo, the same wizard. We suspect he may have a vendetta against Malfoy.”
“Shite.”
“Pretty much,” Harry muttered, running his hand through his messy black hair. “We’re putting you under twenty-four hour surveillance,” he told Draco, who made a face. “There will be an Auror posted at the door to your building until we catch this psycho,” Harry continued. “And whenever you go outside, you will be watched. Don’t go anywhere alone.”
“I get it,” Draco bit out, looking pale and angry. Ron squeezed his hand, and then startled himself; he hadn’t realized they’d been holding hands.
“The Aurors say you’re free to go,” said Harry. “But I figured you’d want to see Hermione and the baby first.”
Ron nodded gratefully and pulled himself out of the chair, and then helped Draco up as well. He took his arm, since Draco’s cane had been lost in the explosion, and led him out of the room. Harry watched them go with a small frown.
~*~
“If you get a headache, let me know,” Ron informed Draco as they entered their flat.
“Yeah, yeah,” Draco said mulishly, and headed for the kitchen. “I need to take the draught and get my drops. My eyes are itching.”
Sighing, Ron hung up his jacket and Draco’s cloak and followed him into the kitchen. “Can you see anything at all?” he asked, opening a cabinet and fetching the potion.
“Everything’s a grey blur, but yeah, sort of,” said Draco, and sat down. He looked up and stared at Ron with an unfocused look in his eyes. “I can see movement, but no color. I’m not going to be color blind, am I?” he asked, looking alarmed.
“I highly doubt it,” Ron replied, joining Draco at the table and pushing the potion over to him. “Drink up.”
Draco groped for the glass and nearly spilled it, but recovered and quickly gulped down the concoction. Ron stood and walked around to behind Draco as he tilted his head back and opened his eyes wide.
“I was going to ask if I could have a key to the flat,” Draco said as Ron put the drops in one eye, and then the other. “But I suppose that’s not such a good idea anymore.”
Putting the drops back in the cabinet, Ron remained silent as he began to make sandwiches for dinner; they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was nearly eight o’clock now. Anything to keep his hands busy and his mind off the explosion and Hermione and the baby and Draco...
“I figured that since I was getting better, I could walk down to the park and scare some of the kids,” Draco continued blithely. “Poke them with my cane, you know?”
“Don’t poke children,” Ron said absently, as he violently chopped up a carrot. A chair scrape against the floor and he heard Draco approach him. Ron’s heart pounded in his chest and his entire body became acutely aware of Draco’s presence when he came to a stop behind him.
Placing a hand over Ron’s, he ceased chopping and began to shake. “You’re mangling that vegetable, Ron,” Draco breathed into Ron’s ear, causing him to shudder. Draco interlaced his lithe fingers with Ron’s broader ones and carefully raised the knife.
“You’ve got to use smooth strokes,” he whispered, bringing the knife down and slicing into the remains of the carrot. Draco nuzzled Ron’s neck and then ever so slightly bit his ear.
With the roar of blood in his ears, Ron whirled to face Draco and kissed him hard on the mouth. Moaning, Draco kissed back just as enthusiastically, running his tongue along the seam of Ron’s mouth. Ron groaned in return and spun Draco around, pinning his smaller frame against the counter and grinding against him.
Tearing his mouth away, Ron buried his face in Draco’s neck and sucked hard on his pulse point, eliciting a loud gasp. Draco gripped at Ron’s hair and tugged, kissing Ron again and thrusting his tongue into Ron’s mouth. A low rumble of pleasure escaped Ron’s throat as Draco did very wicked things with his tongue and hips. Draco then threw his head back and cried out when Ron ground their erections together.
“I thought I’d lost you today,” Ron said, ripping open Draco’s shirt and sending buttons flying everywhere. He bent down and licked at a nipple before tugging it between his teeth. Draco’s hands tightened in his hair and he hissed in pleasure. Ron repeated the action on the other nipple, and Draco hummed. Ron straightened and kissed Draco again, pouring as much of his emotions as possible into the kiss. He gripped at Draco’s arse and squeezed.
“Fuck yeah,” Ron groaned as their erections pulsed against one another. He scrambled to unbutton the flies to his jeans, and Draco did the same. Ron sighed in relief and pleasure when his cock was finally freed, and he pumped his erection and watched in awe as Draco too freed himself from his trousers.
Batting Draco’s hand away, Ron gripped both their cocks in his hand and they groaned at the contact.
“Ah, f-fuck,” Draco stuttered, letting his head fall back and pumping his hips, his cock sliding in and out of Ron’s fist.
Ron reached up with his other hand and tugged at Draco’s hair, forcing his head to fall back down. He kissed him again, thrusting his tongue into Draco’s mouth in rhythm with the slide of his hand on their cocks. Draco grabbed Ron’s arse and urged him to go faster.
The pressure was building; Ron’s breaths were coming in short puffs against Draco’s mouth and he was so fucking close. He was so close, his hand was a blur as it pumped their cocks, and he had to fucking come or he would die. So close so close so close....Draco shouted once and came, his come spurting high into the air, and that was all it took to push Ron over the edge. A second later, he was groaning and coming all over his hand and Draco’s stomach, the pleasure so intense that white bursts of light flashed behind Ron’s eyes, and it felt so fucking good and Ron didn’t want it to stop.
Shaking, Ron gave their cocks one last squeeze before dropping his hand and stumbling backwards. Draco’s head was still thrown back and his flushed chest was heaving; he looked as if his knees would give out at any moment.
The air was thick with the scent of sex and Ron watched as Draco leaned forward and raised his hands to his chest, which was still spattered with Ron’s semen.
“Fuck,” Draco said breathlessly, swiping up some come and rubbing it between his fingers. A burst of arousal shot down into Ron’s cock as he watched Draco smear his semen into his own skin. Surging forward, Ron kissed Draco, their tongues sliding together and teeth clacking. Ron then dropped down to his knees and proceeded to lick his come off Draco’s stomach.
“Fuck,” Draco moaned again, burying his hands in Ron’s hair. He seemed to like doing that, and Ron was sure as hell not complaining.
He licked at Draco’s bellybutton one last time before looking up and watching Draco. His face was flushed and his hair tousled in the sexiest way imaginable. His cock was still hanging out of his trousers, but Ron could tell his arousal was already growing again.
Ron stood slowly and leaned his entire frame against Draco’s. Putting his mouth next to Draco’s ear, he whispered, “I want to fuck you until you come screaming my name.”
Draco whimpered and he shut his eyes, licking his lips. “Yes,” he hissed. Moaning, Ron grasped Draco’s shoulders and ushered the two of them quickly into his bedroom. Although Ron wanted desperately to turn on the lights so that he could see Draco and his gorgeous body, there was a little voice inside him that said to keep the lights off, that it would be better that way. Ron could now “see” Draco the same way Draco was able to see Ron.
They kissed slowly at first, exploring each other’s mouths as they undressed each other, shirts and trousers sliding to the floor. Once on the bed, Ron straddled Draco’s waist, loving how Draco’s cock was pressed against his arse, and began to run his hands up and down his smooth skin, plucking at nipples, sometimes biting, other times licking and sucking. It was breathtaking how responsive Draco was; Ron figured him for the more quiet type.
When they were both past the point of coherent speech, they communicated through touch and gasps and sighs. And when Ron finally slid into Draco’s body, it was bliss. They surged together, skin slapping erotically, grunts filling the room, Ron showing Draco the pleasure he could give a man, and Draco taking it all, pulling Ron into his body, wrapping his legs tightly around Ron’s hips.
They came within minutes, Draco stroking his cock as Ron pounded into him, and after it was over and their bodies sated and exhausted and a little sticky, they curled together, sleeping and finding peace in the other’s presence.
~*~
Ron woke the next morning feeling sated and thoroughly shagged. He grinned into the soft morning light that was creeping into his bedroom and rolled over onto his side.
Draco wasn’t there.
Ron shot up and stared at the empty space next to him, then hopped out of bed and into a pair of pajama bottoms. After grabbing his wand, he rushed out of the room, still wiping the sleep from his eyes, when the smell hit him.
It was bacon. Cooking. In a frying pan.
More shocked than anything, Ron tentatively stepped into the kitchen and grinned at the sight before him. Draco was standing at his stove, humming to himself and swinging his hips slightly as he made bacon. He was wearing Ron’s bathrobe, which was too wide in the shoulders by half. For some reason, this aroused Ron more than anything.
Smiling, Ron walked over to where Draco was standing and wrapped his arms around his waist. Ron kissed Draco on the cheek and nuzzled his neck, then asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Draco shook his head and smirked. “What does it look like, Weasley? I’m making breakfast, something you’ve never been able to accomplish.”
“Ooh, I love it when you talk nasty to me.” Ron squeezed Draco tighter and pushed his erection into the curve of Draco’s arse. “Last night was amazing,” he murmured, licking the shell of Draco’s ear.
Shuddering, Draco pressed back against Ron and reached over to turn off the stove; the popping of the bacon began to cease. “It was amazing,” he whispered, almost too soft for Ron to hear. Draco turned around and hugged Ron tightly for several minutes, then pulled back and kissed him on the mouth, hard and needy and hot, and Ron groaned when their cocks brushed together through the layers of cloth. Then he had a brilliant idea. Pulling back, Ron grinned at Draco, kissed him once more, and then sank down to his knees. He untied the bathrobe, letting it fall open, and Ron’s cock pulsed at the sight of Draco’s erection bobbing in front of his face, red and thick and leaking precome.
But Ron didn’t touch Draco’s cock. Instead, he looked up and said huskily, “Turn around.”
Draco inhaled sharply, but he quickly complied, turning around and bracing his arms on the counter top. “Take off the robe,” said Ron breathlessly. Draco shed the bathrobe and leaned into the counter, his arse sticking out in the air. Licking his lips, Ron ran his rough hands up Draco’s legs and settled them on his arse, kneading and squeezing the supple flesh. Draco breathed in sharply above him. Ron parted Draco’s cheeks and smiled inwardly at the sight of Draco open and exposed to him.
Ron removed a hand from Draco’s arse and sucked his pointer finger into his mouth, wetting it. He then gently ran the wet tip over the tight hole, and Draco grasped and pushed back shamelessly. Grinning, Ron continued to run his finger over the ring of muscle before pressing in. Draco moaned loudly as Ron’s finger probed further inside him.
Taking his finger out, Ron leaned forward and blew cool air on the wet flash, eliciting another moan and a shudder from Draco.
“W-What are you doing?” he gasped, twisting his head around to look at Ron.
Ron ignored him and leant forward, swiping his tongue in one long stroke over Draco’s hole.
“Oh bloody fucking fuck!” Draco’s head fell forward and he began to shake as Ron licked and sucked, driving his tongue past the muscle and causing Draco to buck and shout out.
Pulling back, Ron inserted a finger again, and then two, trying to find that one spot, crooking his fingers, he knew where it was...
Draco shouted out in surprise and pleasure. “Oh fuck oh fuck, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”
That was all Ron needed to hear. He sprang to his feet, his own cock bobbing, hard and leaking, and somehow managed to summon the lubricant from his bedroom. He spread a liberal amount onto his fingers, coating his cock, keening at the sensation, it felt so fucking good, and then inserted two fingers into Draco’s arse.
Panting, Draco shook his head frantically and said, “No, no, no fingers, just fuck me, your cock, Godplease.”
With a grunt, Ron positioned his cock and slid into Draco, the tight heat squeezing his cock, oh fuck yeah, not waiting for Draco to get used to the intrusion because he was pushing back and tugging at his cock, moaning and gasping each time Ron withdrew and slammed into him. Draco was so fucking hot, his body splayed out, clutching at the counter, biting his lip and moaning, and Ron knew he wasn’t going to last long. His balls were pulled tight against his body, the pleasure searing through him, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to the edge.
Draco was so tight and so hot around him, and he was pulling so hard at his cock, his entire body flushed and covered with a small sheen of sweat. He was murmuring, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, come on” under his breath, and Ron snapped.
He came with a low groan, spending himself in Draco, spasms of pleasure shooting from his cock and spreading everywhere, it felt so fucking good, and Ron didn’t want it to ever stop.
Still shaking slightly from the aftershocks, Ron pulled out of Draco’s body and watched as his come dribbled out of his hole. Draco hadn’t come yet, and so Ron turned him around, kissing him hard, and then dropped to his knees. He sucked Draco’s cock as far down his throat as possible, relishing in how Draco shouted out in surprise and then shuddered, threading his hands in Ron’s vivid hair and thrusting his hips.
Ron slurped at Draco’s cock, working his hands along the shaft and balls, and it didn’t take very long before Draco was gasping and coming down Ron’s throat, hands gripping his hair and pulling hard. When he was finally spent, Ron pulled back and wiped his mouth, grinning up at Draco, who was panting above him.
He looked down at Ron with a satisfied and content look on his face. “You’re really fucking great at that,” he said, smiling lazily.
Ron grinned cockily. “At what? Fucking or sucking?” he asked, hauling himself up.
Draco grabbed him by the waist and pulled their bodies flush together, kissing Ron firmly on the mouth. “Everything,” Draco whispered, and kissed him some more.
~*~
Ron was sitting on the sofa in his living room reading a book to Draco later that evening, occasionally groping one another, when there were several rapid knocks on his door. Alarmed, he stood up and crossed to his door, finding Harry on the other side.
“Hey!” Ron said, surprised. “What are you doing here, mate?”
Harry looked shiftily into the living room. Seeing Draco, he leaned in close to Ron and whispered, “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
Wide-eyed, Ron nodded and led Harry into his kitchen, closing the door behind him. Harry threw himself into a chair and proceeded to thud his head against the table.
“What the hell?” Ron blurted, rushing over to Harry and holding his head up by the hair. “Harry, what is it?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” Harry muttered distractedly. “But you-Malfoy-you’re in danger and you need to know.”
“What, Harry?” stressed Ron, sitting down opposite him, his heart pounding in his chest.
Harry scrubbed at his face and then said, “Over the past week, there have been three very brutal murders that have occurred throughout the country.”
Ron gaped at him, not understanding. “What? I haven’t heard anything in the news. And what does that have to do with Draco?” he asked slowly.
“Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Marcus Flint,” Harry gasped out.
Ron shook his head, confused. “I-what?”
“They’re dead. Very, very dead,” said Harry, looking pained. “And they’re all connected to Malfoy.”
“What, because they were all in Slytherin?” Ron said scathingly, ignoring the pain in his stomach at the news.
“They were all suspected of being Death Eaters,” explained Harry, running his hands through his messy hair. “Suspected, but never confirmed one way or the other, like Malfoy. And…” He trailed off uncertainly.
“And what?” demanded Ron.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Harry took a deep breath, then said, “I haven’t been able to read the actual transcript yet, but they were all named together in a trial testimony concerning the murder of a Wizarding family years ago. The file’s classified, though, so I don’t know what the exact details are, but I can sneak in tonight and look into it. For now, though, you need to stick close to Malfoy and-”
“I’m going with you.”
Harry stopped speaking and gaped at Ron for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry, was ‘stick close to Malfoy’ not clear enough for you? Hell no, you’re not going!”
“He’s safe here, no one can get in!”
“He’s not safe anywhere!”
“I’m going with you,” said Ron stubbornly, crossing his arms and daring Harry to say no.
Harry opened his mouth to do just that, but then he looked at Ron, really looked at him, and realized that his best friend needed to do this. For Draco.
“You really care for him, don’t you?” he said softly.
Ron looked back at him steadily. “Yes.”
Nodding, Harry stood and cracked his back. “Meet me at the public entrance for the Ministry at midnight,” he said. “Get someone over here that can keep a lookout and watch over Malfoy.”
Ron stood as well and looked at Harry quizzically. “Who?”
“Someone you trust,” was all he said.
~*~
Ron had told Draco that he was just running out for some take-away. He hated lying to Draco, but he didn’t have a choice. This was the only way he could get out without being hassled by the Aurors.
He nervously approached the small house and rang the doorbell. Shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, Ron rocked on the balls of his feet waiting for the door to open. A few moments passed before the door opened and Richard was staring at Ron, looking surprised.
“Can I come in?” Ron asked, and Richard nodded, stepping aside.
Richard led Ron to the living, and was asking if he’d like a drink when Ron blurted, “I need a favor from you.”
Raising an eyebrow, Richard sat down and said, “What for?”
Ron swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “I need you to go to my flat tonight,” he said at last. “I…need someone to be there. Tonight. Just for a few hours.”
Richard stared at Ron with an intense, burning look in his eyes. Ron shivered. “Is he still there?” he asked, sounding a bit strangled.
“Yes,” said Ron. “But he’ll be asleep,” he added quickly.
“And where will you be?” asked Richard, still with that strange quality to his voice.
Ron exhaled loudly. “Out,” he replied. “For an hour or so. Please, Richie, I know I’m asking a lot, but please, do this for me. I’ll do anything in return, I swear.”
Pale green eyes glistened as a small smile broke out on Richard’s face. “Of course, Ron,” he said. “What time should I get there?”
So overcome with joy, and not a little surprised, Ron grinned widely and said, “About a quarter till midnight. That okay?”
“That’s perfectly fine,” breathed Richard. Ron missed the strange look on his face.
~*~
“Who’s watching Malfoy?” asked Harry. He and Ron were riding down the phone booth lift on their way to the Ministry of Magic. They were both hiding underneath Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, though Ron was sure a good foot of his legs were showing.
“Richard,” he answered in a hushed voice. He felt Harry nod against him in approval.
“Okay, once we’re in the Atrium, we need to go right and take a lift to the Auror department,” explained Harry. “Only I will be able to get into the file office to retrieve the transcript and Pensieve recording of the trial, so I’m going to have you sit at my desk with the Cloak and keep a look-out.”
“Sounds good,” Ron murmured, who felt as if there were Snitches flying around inside his stomach.
It seemed like it took ages before Harry finally showed back up at his desk carrying a Pensieve, a memory phial, and a large file. “I didn’t get a chance to look at any of it,” Harry explained, letting the items fall to his desk with a thud. “Which do you want? The memory or the file?”
Ron eyed the thick looking folder but decided to go with the Pensieve memory instead, believing that it would be the more objective of the two accounts. Harry nodded in agreement and poured the vapor-like liquid into the bowl. He looked at Ron one last time before gripping his shoulder and dunking his head into the Pensieve. With a jolt, Ron felt his entire body plummeting forward and down, down, down until he landed in an empty chair next to Harry, who had the misfortune to land in Rita Skeeter’s lap.
“Bloody hell,” Ron murmured as he took in the room. They were in the middle of Courtroom Ten in the Ministry of Magic. Below them was the Wizengamot in their full glory, Rufus Scrimgeour standing out most prominently in the fore.
Ron was too busy staring in awe at the room, which he’d never been in before, to notice that the trial had begun. It wasn’t until he heard Draco’s name that he snapped to attention.
“Draco Malfoy,” Scrimgeour was saying, “along with the suspected Death Eaters Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Marcus Flint, has been accused of assisting in the brutal murder of the Muggles Warren Maus, his wife Liesel, and their two daughters, Ilse and Klara, on the evening of 24 October 1999. According to eye-witness testimony, these four men aided known Death Eaters Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair in the murders of these four Muggles.”
Scrimgeour rustled through some parchment. “Ah,” he said when he extracted the one he’d wanted. Looking up, Scrimgeour peered at someone below him and said, “Mr. Maus, you are quoted with saying that you, without a doubt, saw and identified the accused at your home in Kidderminster, Worcestershire on October 24th and that they aided in the deaths of your parents and sisters. However, according to a sworn statement given by Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy was with him that night, the entire night, working on the destruction of the last of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s Horcruxes. How do you explain Mr. Malfoy being in two places at once?”
Ron watched in growing horror as Richard stood up from his chair and smoothed down the front of his worn robes. “Sir,” he said in a rising voice, “I know what I saw that night. I saw Malfoy there! I know he was there. He must have Confunded Potter, or-or something, but I saw him kill my baby sisters and-!”
“Mr. Maus, calm down!” Scrimgeour exclaimed, banging his gavel. “In the reports filed by St. Mungo’s staff that night, you had been put under the Cruciatus Curse several times. It is possible, then, that you may have been suffering under a delusional episode that led you to believe that Draco Malfoy and these other men were there that night at your house. Furthermore, Messrs Nott, Zabini, and Flint also have alibis, confirmed by Veritaserum administered by our own Aurors.”
Removing his spectacles, Scrimgeour rubbed his eyes for a moment, then replaced them and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Maus, but these men are innocent and played no part in the death of your family.”
Richard’s face drained entirely of its color. “You can’t do that!” he shouted, striding forward towards the judges’ balcony, looking completely out of his mind. “They killed my family!” he shrieked, as guards grabbed him by the waist and dragged him back. “Let go of me! LET ME GO! THEY KILLED THEM! I’LL KILL THEM IF IT’S THE LAST THING I-!”
With a whoosh and a feeling as if his stomach was going to drop out of his body, Ron and Harry landed back at Harry’s desk, both pale and shaking.
“I don’t believe it,” Ron whispered, swallowing against the bile that was rising in his throat. “Richard-he would n-never do that. Never. I can’t-”
“His family had just died,” reasoned Harry. “Of course he was distraught. I would-was, after Ginny…” Harry turned his head away and coughed roughly. He then suddenly grabbed the file folder and tore it open, reading rapidly.
“He got a N.E.W.T. in Potions and Defense,” Harry read. “Oh God…”
“What?” Ron grunted, feeling sick.
Running a hand through his hair, Harry looked up and said, “Did you know that Richard used to work in the Experimental Spells office? His specializations were hexes, curses…and the Unforgivables.”
“No,” Ron choked out. He couldn’t believe it. He refused…
“For a while, he worked with Wesley Scott in the potions laboratory,” Harry continued in a whisper. “They knew each other. I remember,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “I remember being interviewed. I was asked where Malfoy was that night, and of course, that was when we destroyed Hufflepuff’s Cup with the Four Elements Spell. Malfoy was air…”
“NO,” Ron said, slowly losing all sense of control. Harry looked up sharply and grabbed Ron by the shoulders; and then something suddenly occurred to him.
“Ron,” said Harry, panicking, “Ron, fuck, we’ve got to get back to your flat. Ron, come on! COME ON!” With a roar, Harry tore Ron away from his desk and forced him down the corridors and into a lift. Once they’d finally made it outside, Harry Apparated them both to Ron’s flat. The Aurors who were supposed to be standing guard were gone.
“Fuck,” hissed Harry, and he quickly scanned the area with his wand. “Fuck. They’re not here. Ron, where are you going?” Harry yelped when Ron ran to the front door of the building, threw it open, and ran up the stairs.
Bursting through his front door, Ron ran into his flat and shouted, “Draco!” The living room was empty, as was the kitchen. Panic settling in the pit of his stomach, Ron turned on every light in his house as he search through the bedrooms, the bathroom, the cupboards, anywhere.
“No,” Ron said for the millionth time that night. The flat was empty. No one was there. “NO! FUCK!” He felt sick, so sick that Ron though he might throw up any second. His heart was pounding in his chest, bile rising in his throat. Draco was gone. Richard had taken him.
Richard was a murderer and he’d tried to kill Draco and Hermione. And Ron had unknowingly given him all the information he’d needed.
Right after Ron vomited, he passed out.
It must have been only an hour later when Ron woke up to find his flat swarming with Aurors. He was on his sofa covered with a lopsided blanket Hermione had knitted him years ago. He saw Harry standing in the corner by his fireplace talking intensely with Tonks and Shacklebolt. His eyes moving over the other occupants of the room, Ron was surprised to see his parents standing near the kitchen door, both looking drawn and worried.
Pushing himself up and brushing off a wave of dizziness, Ron took a couple of deep breaths and then stood. He needed to know what was going on, what was being done for Draco. To rescue him. Because he was still alive. Ron squeezed his eyes shut at the thought that Draco wasn’t.
His mother saw him and looked as if she wanted to rush over and coddle him, but Ron’s dad held her back, for which Ron was grateful. He quickly made his way over to Harry, just in time to hear him say, “There has to be a coincidence in where we found those three bodies and Maus’s family home-Ron! You’re awake.”
“What about Richard’s home?” Ron asked sharply. Harry exchanged a look with Tonks and Shacklebolt.
“Er, I dunno if I should tell you-”
“Dammit, Harry,” Ron barked. “I have a right to know!”
“Ron, this is an active case,” interjected a worried-looking Tonks. “Right now, if we say anything, it could end up backfiring badly. I’m sorry, but we can’t tell you anything more.”
With gritted teeth, Ron managed not to explode at Tonks, instead choosing to back away and walk towards the door.
“Hey, where are you going?” Harry asked, coming up behind him.
“I just need some air, is that okay?” snapped Ron.
Harry was a little taken-aback, but nodded and followed Ron out the door, down the stairs, and outside, where they could be blissfully alone. Turning on Harry, Ron demanded, “So tell me about the deaths and their connection to Richard’s home.”
Mouth agape, Harry stared at Ron incredulously. “I can’t tell you!” he hissed.
Ron crossed his arms and straightened his back, leaving him to tower over Harry and hopefully, give him some leverage. “If you don’t tell me, it’ll just take that much longer for me to find Draco.”
Harry sighed and looked utterly torn. His eyes swept over the street, and satisfied that no one was around, said, “The bodies of Zabini, Nott, and Flint were all found within Kidderminster. They’d been dead for a while, though, but we believe that Maus-Richard. Fuck. We believe that he dumped the bodies after getting nervous, especially since Malfoy was still alive and could possibly identify him.”
Ron was quiet for a very long time before saying, “Richard took me to Kidderminster a while back. He wanted me to see his home. It’s a warehouse now, did you know?”
Harry paled considerably. “You’ve…been there before?”
Ron didn’t hear Harry shout his name before he Disapparated.
~*~
Ron had only been to Kidderminster once, and that was about a year or so ago, around the same time. Richard had wanted Ron to see where he’d grown up, since Ron was always having him over at the Burrow. It had been a very somber visit, and Richard had been very quiet after they’d seen the warehouse that now stood on the property. Ron recalled that he and Richard had had a conversation about death and loss. Ginny had figured prominently. So had Lucius Malfoy. Richard had asked Ron that if he could, would he kill Malfoy himself as revenge for Ginny’s death? For the life of him, Ron couldn’t remember what he said. But he wondered if it was then Richard decided to get the ultimate vengeance on the people who ruined his life.
The warehouse was at the end of a deserted street, which Ron didn’t think was a good omen, and cautiously approached the dilapidated building. He didn’t notice any lights, but he knew that Richard was smart enough to cover his tracks.
Don’t think about Richard now, Ron told himself sternly. He had to get to Draco. He had to save him.
It took Ron almost fifteen minutes to find a door he could open with a simple Unlocking Charm, and once he was inside, his entire body was a jumble of nerves. It didn’t help that he was sweating profusely and breathing like a ruddy hippogriff in heat.
Ron figured he was near the back of the warehouse, where the offices were located. He had no idea where Richard might have taken Draco, but he figured he should keep going forward. Draco just had to be there somewhere.
Finally, Ron came to the opening to the main storage facility. It was pitch black inside the giant room, but Ron didn’t dare light his wand for fear of Richard striking him or Draco. He stood in silence for what felt like hours, listening, barely breathing. Where are they? he thought frantically. They had to be there!
Suddenly every light in the facility came on with a blinding force and Ron found himself standing in the center of the room. Draco was tied to a chair not ten feet to his right.
Richard was in front of Ron holding a wand to his face.
“I thought you’d come,” he whispered. Richard’s normally light green eyes were bloodshot and wild. He had several bruises on his chin and cheeks, as if he’d been in a fistfight recently. Or a scuffle. Ron mentally cheered Draco.
“Richard,” Ron choked out, “don’t do this. We can get you some help-”
“Lower your wand,” Richard said in an eerily calm voice.
“Richard, please,” Ron pleaded, giving up all pretense of bravery. He was scared out of his mind, but not for himself. He was terrified that Richard would do something to Draco.
“SHUT UP!” Richard shrieked. “Lower your wand and throw it away!”
Swallowing, Ron nodded and slowly let his arm fall down to his side and then tossed his wand to the right.
“Good,” hissed Richard. “Yeah. Good.” He grinned maniacally then and let out a scathing laugh. “Who’d’ve thought it! Ron Weasley, Ron ‘I-Always-Top’ Weasley, throwing away his only source of power!” Richard bared his teeth and snarled. “Funny how you were never willing to make any of those sacrifices for me.”
“This isn’t about you and me, Richard,” Ron said shakily. “This is about you.”
“You’re right.” Richard began edging towards where Ron had tossed his wand. “You’re right, you’re right, I know that, but I can’t help but feel a little….Oh, what’s the word? BETRAYED,” he screamed, “that you left me for him! For a Death Eater! A murderer!”
“He never killed anyone!” shouted Ron, taking a very small step backwards when Richard was eyeing the wand. “He was with me and Harry and Hermione that night your family was killed. I was there, I know it’s the truth!”
“It was a trick!” Richard was within reach of the wand. “I SAW Malfoy!”
“He was with us that night!” Fuck, Ron needed to get to that wand before Richard did. He needed to distract him. Thinking quickly, and a bit wildly, Ron said, “You probably made it all up anyway!”
Richard froze and he glared venomously at Ron. “What?” he growled.
“Yeah, you made it up,” Ron said, throwing caution to the wind and taking another step closer to the wand. “You weren’t satisfied with just Lucius Malfoy and Macnair’s deaths, no, you needed more blood, you needed vengeance. So you made up this story about how Malfoy and a few other Slytherins aided in the death of your family because, hey, you never had any love-loss for the House anyway, am I right?”
Richard was so incensed he was shaking and his attention was now firmly focused on Ron. He only needed to get a little bit closer to the wand now…
Suddenly, there was a roar, a shout, a body hurtling through the air. Richard screamed and was knocked backwards as Draco barreled into Richard’s chest, knocking him to the ground. They wrestled for Richard’s wand, and it was all happening so fast. Ron dived to get his wand when there was a flash of light, another scream, and then he was thrown twenty feet into the air. He landed hard on his back, the air knocked completely out of him, as Draco and Richard rolled around on the floor, punching and biting at one another. Ron struggled to sit up, to go help fight, but his ribs screamed in protest and the pain was too much to bear. He probably broke something important, Ron thought madly.
Draco and Richard were shouting, there were screams, groans, Ron would barely see, his vision was blurring the pain was so bad, and then a voice shouted, “Sectumsempra!”
There was an ungodly tearing noise, a choked cry, more shuffling, and then blessed silence.
Please, God, please let Draco be all right, please…
That was the last thought Ron had before the darkness encompassed him and he no longer felt the pain.
~*~
The room was so blindingly white that Ron reckoned he was in heaven. Surely he’d see an angel any second now….And of course Ginny would be one as well. He was looking forward to seeing her again….
“If you don’t wake up, I’m going to replace that hideous sofa with one that’s green and silver.”
Ron smiled lazily at the voice. Draco. He must be in heaven, too. Ron always knew Draco was a good man.
“And then I’ll be forced to rid the flat of that coffee table as well. Hell, Ron, why didn’t you tell me the truth about your furniture when I first moved in?”
Why Draco was talking about sofas and coffee tables was beyond Ron. But whatever makes him happy, he thought languidly.
“And finally, the orange in your room. You know how I never approved of the Cannons anyway. Now I’ll just have an excuse to cover your room in Tornados paraphernalia.”
What? Draco can’t do that! The Tornados suck!
“Ron? Ron! Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand, love, come on, squeeze my hand…”
Love…?
The white was just as glaringly bright with his eyes open as it was when he was unconscious, Ron though. Squinting, and a bit nauseous from the pain in his back, Ron turned his head slightly and found Draco sitting in a chair beside his bed, holding his hand in a death grip.
“Ron,” Draco gasped when he saw Ron’s blue eyes. With considerable self-restraint, Draco bit his lip and swallowed audibly. “Fuck, Ron, I didn’t-you weren’t waking up-” He let out a soft choked sob and then buried his head into Ron’s thigh.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Draco whispered hoarsely.
Ron ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and tugged gently. Draco raised his head and it was then Ron noticed the glasses.
“What are these?” he asked teasingly.
“You’ve been out for about a week,” Draco explained. “While I was here, too, the Healers ran some tests on my eyes and said that they weren’t going to get any better without some kind of surgery. So I had to get glasses.” Draco took them off and examined them. “At least they’re not as horrendous as Potter’s.”
Ron guffawed and then began to cough, which only made the pain in the back escalate. Once the fit subsided, Ron settled back against his pillows and asked, “What happened to Richard?”
Draco’s face clouded over and he turned his head. “He was going to cast the Killing Curse on you. I had to stop him.”
“He’s dead.” It was a statement, not a question. Somehow, Ron knew that Richard wouldn’t survive. His heart ached then for a former friend and lover Ron had known for the past four years. He had taught Ron much about life and relationships; he’d delivered Hermione’s baby. But Richard was sick, consumed by anger and lust for revenge. The Richard that Ron knew had died a long time ago, he realized. It still didn’t hurt any less, though.
“I’m not sorry,” Draco stated. Ron looked up and stared evenly back at Draco.
“Good.”
Draco gave Ron a tentative smile, and Ron remembered something then. Grinning, he tugged Draco forward until he was nearly on the bed. “Oh, and Draco? You’re not touching my bedroom.”
The sound of laughter filled the air.
Fin
Title: See No Evil
Pairing: Ron/Draco, Ron/OMC; past Ron/Hermione, unrequited Ron/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After Draco is blinded in an accident that wasn’t quite an accident after all, Ron takes him in and soon discovers that not everything or everyone is as it seems.
Warnings: Character death (pre-story), rimming, clichés…
Part I | Part II | Part III
Ron had never felt so helpless since Ginny’s death all those years ago. He had managed to get Draco and Hermione safely to St. Mungo’s, and now he, Draco, Harry, Luna, and Neville were sitting in the waiting room to the Labor and Delivery section of the hospital. Draco was asleep in the chair next to Ron, snoring softly; his head wound had been cleaned and healed after they had arrived. Harry was pacing back and forth in the small room, Luna was staring at people in turn, and Neville’s head was buried in his hands. Ron couldn’t tell if he was awake or not.
Hermione had been immediately ushered into the maternity ward upon her arrival, but they had not heard anything from the Healers since. That had been almost three hours ago. Meanwhile, Ron’s fury was growing the longer they waited for news on Hermione and the baby. He was about to go into the delivery room himself and demand some answers when the door to the waiting area opened. His heart sunk, however, when it revealed only Tonks on the other side.
“Harry?” she said quietly. “I need to speak with you.”
Ron watched as his best friend strode out of the room and then turned his attention back to the room; he started slightly when he saw that Luna was staring at him.
She smiled and whispered, “How long?”
Blinking, Ron cocked his head and said, “How long what?”
Luna stood and walked over to where Ron was sitting and squatted in front of him. She nodded her head towards Draco. “How long have you been together?”
He gaped at her and flushed. “We’re not dating,” he said quickly. “Draco’s staying with me because of his eyesight.”
She stared owlishly at him with wide blue eyes, causing Ron’s hairs to stand on end, when the door to the room opened again. This time, Richard was standing on the other side of it. “Neville Longbottom?”
Neville’s head snapped up and he shot out of his chair. “That’s me,” he said breathlessly.
Richard looked determinedly at Neville, refusing to set eyes on Ron or Draco, and said, “Hermione’s fine and so is the baby. There was some internal bleeding, but we were able to stop it and safely deliver the baby. You can come and see them now.” Neville sprinted out of the room and Richard followed, still not acknowledging Ron. Harry came into the room a second later.
“Hermione and the baby are fine,” Ron told him. Luna stood up and walked over to Harry, hugging him. They stood together, embracing, for several minutes, and Ron felt something in his chest break. He averted his eyes, which landed on Draco’s sleeping form. His face was very close to Ron’s, with puffs of air ruffling his hair ever so slightly.
He started when a hand touched his shoulder. Looking up, he found Harry watching him with an odd look in his eye; Luna was nowhere to be seen.
“Wake him up,” Harry whispered, motioning towards Draco. Ron shook his shoulder slightly, and Draco mumbled something before his eyes fluttered open.
“Wassit?” he mumbled.
“Draco, Harry needs to talk to us,” Ron murmured. Draco’s eyes opened more fully and he pushed himself into a sitting position.
“What is it?” he asked, rubbing at his neck.
Harry frowned and pulled up a chair so that he could sit facing the two of them. “We have some new information about the explosion,” he began, looking exhausted. “After the Aurors distinguished the fire, they found evidence of a bomb. Someone planted it there on purpose...” Harry trailed off and briefly closed his eyes. “We have reason to believe that...that Malfoy was the target of the attack,” he said at last.
“What?” Ron blurted, staring at Harry incredulously. “How the hell would you know something like that?”
Shaking his head quickly, Harry turned to Draco and asked, “Malfoy, do you know of anyone who would have a personal grudge against you or your family?”
“Everyone,” Draco said meekly; Ron had never heard him sound like that before. “Purebloods hate me because I fought with you; Death Eaters hate me because I betrayed them; everyone else hates me because of my father or my name.”
“This is absurd,” snapped Ron, feeling out of control.
“Ron,” Harry said patiently, “the magical components and signatures at the explosions in the potions lab and at the apothecary are identical. They were from the same wand, ergo, the same wizard. We suspect he may have a vendetta against Malfoy.”
“Shite.”
“Pretty much,” Harry muttered, running his hand through his messy black hair. “We’re putting you under twenty-four hour surveillance,” he told Draco, who made a face. “There will be an Auror posted at the door to your building until we catch this psycho,” Harry continued. “And whenever you go outside, you will be watched. Don’t go anywhere alone.”
“I get it,” Draco bit out, looking pale and angry. Ron squeezed his hand, and then startled himself; he hadn’t realized they’d been holding hands.
“The Aurors say you’re free to go,” said Harry. “But I figured you’d want to see Hermione and the baby first.”
Ron nodded gratefully and pulled himself out of the chair, and then helped Draco up as well. He took his arm, since Draco’s cane had been lost in the explosion, and led him out of the room. Harry watched them go with a small frown.
~*~
“If you get a headache, let me know,” Ron informed Draco as they entered their flat.
“Yeah, yeah,” Draco said mulishly, and headed for the kitchen. “I need to take the draught and get my drops. My eyes are itching.”
Sighing, Ron hung up his jacket and Draco’s cloak and followed him into the kitchen. “Can you see anything at all?” he asked, opening a cabinet and fetching the potion.
“Everything’s a grey blur, but yeah, sort of,” said Draco, and sat down. He looked up and stared at Ron with an unfocused look in his eyes. “I can see movement, but no color. I’m not going to be color blind, am I?” he asked, looking alarmed.
“I highly doubt it,” Ron replied, joining Draco at the table and pushing the potion over to him. “Drink up.”
Draco groped for the glass and nearly spilled it, but recovered and quickly gulped down the concoction. Ron stood and walked around to behind Draco as he tilted his head back and opened his eyes wide.
“I was going to ask if I could have a key to the flat,” Draco said as Ron put the drops in one eye, and then the other. “But I suppose that’s not such a good idea anymore.”
Putting the drops back in the cabinet, Ron remained silent as he began to make sandwiches for dinner; they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was nearly eight o’clock now. Anything to keep his hands busy and his mind off the explosion and Hermione and the baby and Draco...
“I figured that since I was getting better, I could walk down to the park and scare some of the kids,” Draco continued blithely. “Poke them with my cane, you know?”
“Don’t poke children,” Ron said absently, as he violently chopped up a carrot. A chair scrape against the floor and he heard Draco approach him. Ron’s heart pounded in his chest and his entire body became acutely aware of Draco’s presence when he came to a stop behind him.
Placing a hand over Ron’s, he ceased chopping and began to shake. “You’re mangling that vegetable, Ron,” Draco breathed into Ron’s ear, causing him to shudder. Draco interlaced his lithe fingers with Ron’s broader ones and carefully raised the knife.
“You’ve got to use smooth strokes,” he whispered, bringing the knife down and slicing into the remains of the carrot. Draco nuzzled Ron’s neck and then ever so slightly bit his ear.
With the roar of blood in his ears, Ron whirled to face Draco and kissed him hard on the mouth. Moaning, Draco kissed back just as enthusiastically, running his tongue along the seam of Ron’s mouth. Ron groaned in return and spun Draco around, pinning his smaller frame against the counter and grinding against him.
Tearing his mouth away, Ron buried his face in Draco’s neck and sucked hard on his pulse point, eliciting a loud gasp. Draco gripped at Ron’s hair and tugged, kissing Ron again and thrusting his tongue into Ron’s mouth. A low rumble of pleasure escaped Ron’s throat as Draco did very wicked things with his tongue and hips. Draco then threw his head back and cried out when Ron ground their erections together.
“I thought I’d lost you today,” Ron said, ripping open Draco’s shirt and sending buttons flying everywhere. He bent down and licked at a nipple before tugging it between his teeth. Draco’s hands tightened in his hair and he hissed in pleasure. Ron repeated the action on the other nipple, and Draco hummed. Ron straightened and kissed Draco again, pouring as much of his emotions as possible into the kiss. He gripped at Draco’s arse and squeezed.
“Fuck yeah,” Ron groaned as their erections pulsed against one another. He scrambled to unbutton the flies to his jeans, and Draco did the same. Ron sighed in relief and pleasure when his cock was finally freed, and he pumped his erection and watched in awe as Draco too freed himself from his trousers.
Batting Draco’s hand away, Ron gripped both their cocks in his hand and they groaned at the contact.
“Ah, f-fuck,” Draco stuttered, letting his head fall back and pumping his hips, his cock sliding in and out of Ron’s fist.
Ron reached up with his other hand and tugged at Draco’s hair, forcing his head to fall back down. He kissed him again, thrusting his tongue into Draco’s mouth in rhythm with the slide of his hand on their cocks. Draco grabbed Ron’s arse and urged him to go faster.
The pressure was building; Ron’s breaths were coming in short puffs against Draco’s mouth and he was so fucking close. He was so close, his hand was a blur as it pumped their cocks, and he had to fucking come or he would die. So close so close so close....Draco shouted once and came, his come spurting high into the air, and that was all it took to push Ron over the edge. A second later, he was groaning and coming all over his hand and Draco’s stomach, the pleasure so intense that white bursts of light flashed behind Ron’s eyes, and it felt so fucking good and Ron didn’t want it to stop.
Shaking, Ron gave their cocks one last squeeze before dropping his hand and stumbling backwards. Draco’s head was still thrown back and his flushed chest was heaving; he looked as if his knees would give out at any moment.
The air was thick with the scent of sex and Ron watched as Draco leaned forward and raised his hands to his chest, which was still spattered with Ron’s semen.
“Fuck,” Draco said breathlessly, swiping up some come and rubbing it between his fingers. A burst of arousal shot down into Ron’s cock as he watched Draco smear his semen into his own skin. Surging forward, Ron kissed Draco, their tongues sliding together and teeth clacking. Ron then dropped down to his knees and proceeded to lick his come off Draco’s stomach.
“Fuck,” Draco moaned again, burying his hands in Ron’s hair. He seemed to like doing that, and Ron was sure as hell not complaining.
He licked at Draco’s bellybutton one last time before looking up and watching Draco. His face was flushed and his hair tousled in the sexiest way imaginable. His cock was still hanging out of his trousers, but Ron could tell his arousal was already growing again.
Ron stood slowly and leaned his entire frame against Draco’s. Putting his mouth next to Draco’s ear, he whispered, “I want to fuck you until you come screaming my name.”
Draco whimpered and he shut his eyes, licking his lips. “Yes,” he hissed. Moaning, Ron grasped Draco’s shoulders and ushered the two of them quickly into his bedroom. Although Ron wanted desperately to turn on the lights so that he could see Draco and his gorgeous body, there was a little voice inside him that said to keep the lights off, that it would be better that way. Ron could now “see” Draco the same way Draco was able to see Ron.
They kissed slowly at first, exploring each other’s mouths as they undressed each other, shirts and trousers sliding to the floor. Once on the bed, Ron straddled Draco’s waist, loving how Draco’s cock was pressed against his arse, and began to run his hands up and down his smooth skin, plucking at nipples, sometimes biting, other times licking and sucking. It was breathtaking how responsive Draco was; Ron figured him for the more quiet type.
When they were both past the point of coherent speech, they communicated through touch and gasps and sighs. And when Ron finally slid into Draco’s body, it was bliss. They surged together, skin slapping erotically, grunts filling the room, Ron showing Draco the pleasure he could give a man, and Draco taking it all, pulling Ron into his body, wrapping his legs tightly around Ron’s hips.
They came within minutes, Draco stroking his cock as Ron pounded into him, and after it was over and their bodies sated and exhausted and a little sticky, they curled together, sleeping and finding peace in the other’s presence.
~*~
Ron woke the next morning feeling sated and thoroughly shagged. He grinned into the soft morning light that was creeping into his bedroom and rolled over onto his side.
Draco wasn’t there.
Ron shot up and stared at the empty space next to him, then hopped out of bed and into a pair of pajama bottoms. After grabbing his wand, he rushed out of the room, still wiping the sleep from his eyes, when the smell hit him.
It was bacon. Cooking. In a frying pan.
More shocked than anything, Ron tentatively stepped into the kitchen and grinned at the sight before him. Draco was standing at his stove, humming to himself and swinging his hips slightly as he made bacon. He was wearing Ron’s bathrobe, which was too wide in the shoulders by half. For some reason, this aroused Ron more than anything.
Smiling, Ron walked over to where Draco was standing and wrapped his arms around his waist. Ron kissed Draco on the cheek and nuzzled his neck, then asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Draco shook his head and smirked. “What does it look like, Weasley? I’m making breakfast, something you’ve never been able to accomplish.”
“Ooh, I love it when you talk nasty to me.” Ron squeezed Draco tighter and pushed his erection into the curve of Draco’s arse. “Last night was amazing,” he murmured, licking the shell of Draco’s ear.
Shuddering, Draco pressed back against Ron and reached over to turn off the stove; the popping of the bacon began to cease. “It was amazing,” he whispered, almost too soft for Ron to hear. Draco turned around and hugged Ron tightly for several minutes, then pulled back and kissed him on the mouth, hard and needy and hot, and Ron groaned when their cocks brushed together through the layers of cloth. Then he had a brilliant idea. Pulling back, Ron grinned at Draco, kissed him once more, and then sank down to his knees. He untied the bathrobe, letting it fall open, and Ron’s cock pulsed at the sight of Draco’s erection bobbing in front of his face, red and thick and leaking precome.
But Ron didn’t touch Draco’s cock. Instead, he looked up and said huskily, “Turn around.”
Draco inhaled sharply, but he quickly complied, turning around and bracing his arms on the counter top. “Take off the robe,” said Ron breathlessly. Draco shed the bathrobe and leaned into the counter, his arse sticking out in the air. Licking his lips, Ron ran his rough hands up Draco’s legs and settled them on his arse, kneading and squeezing the supple flesh. Draco breathed in sharply above him. Ron parted Draco’s cheeks and smiled inwardly at the sight of Draco open and exposed to him.
Ron removed a hand from Draco’s arse and sucked his pointer finger into his mouth, wetting it. He then gently ran the wet tip over the tight hole, and Draco grasped and pushed back shamelessly. Grinning, Ron continued to run his finger over the ring of muscle before pressing in. Draco moaned loudly as Ron’s finger probed further inside him.
Taking his finger out, Ron leaned forward and blew cool air on the wet flash, eliciting another moan and a shudder from Draco.
“W-What are you doing?” he gasped, twisting his head around to look at Ron.
Ron ignored him and leant forward, swiping his tongue in one long stroke over Draco’s hole.
“Oh bloody fucking fuck!” Draco’s head fell forward and he began to shake as Ron licked and sucked, driving his tongue past the muscle and causing Draco to buck and shout out.
Pulling back, Ron inserted a finger again, and then two, trying to find that one spot, crooking his fingers, he knew where it was...
Draco shouted out in surprise and pleasure. “Oh fuck oh fuck, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”
That was all Ron needed to hear. He sprang to his feet, his own cock bobbing, hard and leaking, and somehow managed to summon the lubricant from his bedroom. He spread a liberal amount onto his fingers, coating his cock, keening at the sensation, it felt so fucking good, and then inserted two fingers into Draco’s arse.
Panting, Draco shook his head frantically and said, “No, no, no fingers, just fuck me, your cock, Godplease.”
With a grunt, Ron positioned his cock and slid into Draco, the tight heat squeezing his cock, oh fuck yeah, not waiting for Draco to get used to the intrusion because he was pushing back and tugging at his cock, moaning and gasping each time Ron withdrew and slammed into him. Draco was so fucking hot, his body splayed out, clutching at the counter, biting his lip and moaning, and Ron knew he wasn’t going to last long. His balls were pulled tight against his body, the pleasure searing through him, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to the edge.
Draco was so tight and so hot around him, and he was pulling so hard at his cock, his entire body flushed and covered with a small sheen of sweat. He was murmuring, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, come on” under his breath, and Ron snapped.
He came with a low groan, spending himself in Draco, spasms of pleasure shooting from his cock and spreading everywhere, it felt so fucking good, and Ron didn’t want it to ever stop.
Still shaking slightly from the aftershocks, Ron pulled out of Draco’s body and watched as his come dribbled out of his hole. Draco hadn’t come yet, and so Ron turned him around, kissing him hard, and then dropped to his knees. He sucked Draco’s cock as far down his throat as possible, relishing in how Draco shouted out in surprise and then shuddered, threading his hands in Ron’s vivid hair and thrusting his hips.
Ron slurped at Draco’s cock, working his hands along the shaft and balls, and it didn’t take very long before Draco was gasping and coming down Ron’s throat, hands gripping his hair and pulling hard. When he was finally spent, Ron pulled back and wiped his mouth, grinning up at Draco, who was panting above him.
He looked down at Ron with a satisfied and content look on his face. “You’re really fucking great at that,” he said, smiling lazily.
Ron grinned cockily. “At what? Fucking or sucking?” he asked, hauling himself up.
Draco grabbed him by the waist and pulled their bodies flush together, kissing Ron firmly on the mouth. “Everything,” Draco whispered, and kissed him some more.
~*~
Ron was sitting on the sofa in his living room reading a book to Draco later that evening, occasionally groping one another, when there were several rapid knocks on his door. Alarmed, he stood up and crossed to his door, finding Harry on the other side.
“Hey!” Ron said, surprised. “What are you doing here, mate?”
Harry looked shiftily into the living room. Seeing Draco, he leaned in close to Ron and whispered, “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
Wide-eyed, Ron nodded and led Harry into his kitchen, closing the door behind him. Harry threw himself into a chair and proceeded to thud his head against the table.
“What the hell?” Ron blurted, rushing over to Harry and holding his head up by the hair. “Harry, what is it?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” Harry muttered distractedly. “But you-Malfoy-you’re in danger and you need to know.”
“What, Harry?” stressed Ron, sitting down opposite him, his heart pounding in his chest.
Harry scrubbed at his face and then said, “Over the past week, there have been three very brutal murders that have occurred throughout the country.”
Ron gaped at him, not understanding. “What? I haven’t heard anything in the news. And what does that have to do with Draco?” he asked slowly.
“Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Marcus Flint,” Harry gasped out.
Ron shook his head, confused. “I-what?”
“They’re dead. Very, very dead,” said Harry, looking pained. “And they’re all connected to Malfoy.”
“What, because they were all in Slytherin?” Ron said scathingly, ignoring the pain in his stomach at the news.
“They were all suspected of being Death Eaters,” explained Harry, running his hands through his messy hair. “Suspected, but never confirmed one way or the other, like Malfoy. And…” He trailed off uncertainly.
“And what?” demanded Ron.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Harry took a deep breath, then said, “I haven’t been able to read the actual transcript yet, but they were all named together in a trial testimony concerning the murder of a Wizarding family years ago. The file’s classified, though, so I don’t know what the exact details are, but I can sneak in tonight and look into it. For now, though, you need to stick close to Malfoy and-”
“I’m going with you.”
Harry stopped speaking and gaped at Ron for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry, was ‘stick close to Malfoy’ not clear enough for you? Hell no, you’re not going!”
“He’s safe here, no one can get in!”
“He’s not safe anywhere!”
“I’m going with you,” said Ron stubbornly, crossing his arms and daring Harry to say no.
Harry opened his mouth to do just that, but then he looked at Ron, really looked at him, and realized that his best friend needed to do this. For Draco.
“You really care for him, don’t you?” he said softly.
Ron looked back at him steadily. “Yes.”
Nodding, Harry stood and cracked his back. “Meet me at the public entrance for the Ministry at midnight,” he said. “Get someone over here that can keep a lookout and watch over Malfoy.”
Ron stood as well and looked at Harry quizzically. “Who?”
“Someone you trust,” was all he said.
~*~
Ron had told Draco that he was just running out for some take-away. He hated lying to Draco, but he didn’t have a choice. This was the only way he could get out without being hassled by the Aurors.
He nervously approached the small house and rang the doorbell. Shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, Ron rocked on the balls of his feet waiting for the door to open. A few moments passed before the door opened and Richard was staring at Ron, looking surprised.
“Can I come in?” Ron asked, and Richard nodded, stepping aside.
Richard led Ron to the living, and was asking if he’d like a drink when Ron blurted, “I need a favor from you.”
Raising an eyebrow, Richard sat down and said, “What for?”
Ron swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “I need you to go to my flat tonight,” he said at last. “I…need someone to be there. Tonight. Just for a few hours.”
Richard stared at Ron with an intense, burning look in his eyes. Ron shivered. “Is he still there?” he asked, sounding a bit strangled.
“Yes,” said Ron. “But he’ll be asleep,” he added quickly.
“And where will you be?” asked Richard, still with that strange quality to his voice.
Ron exhaled loudly. “Out,” he replied. “For an hour or so. Please, Richie, I know I’m asking a lot, but please, do this for me. I’ll do anything in return, I swear.”
Pale green eyes glistened as a small smile broke out on Richard’s face. “Of course, Ron,” he said. “What time should I get there?”
So overcome with joy, and not a little surprised, Ron grinned widely and said, “About a quarter till midnight. That okay?”
“That’s perfectly fine,” breathed Richard. Ron missed the strange look on his face.
~*~
“Who’s watching Malfoy?” asked Harry. He and Ron were riding down the phone booth lift on their way to the Ministry of Magic. They were both hiding underneath Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, though Ron was sure a good foot of his legs were showing.
“Richard,” he answered in a hushed voice. He felt Harry nod against him in approval.
“Okay, once we’re in the Atrium, we need to go right and take a lift to the Auror department,” explained Harry. “Only I will be able to get into the file office to retrieve the transcript and Pensieve recording of the trial, so I’m going to have you sit at my desk with the Cloak and keep a look-out.”
“Sounds good,” Ron murmured, who felt as if there were Snitches flying around inside his stomach.
It seemed like it took ages before Harry finally showed back up at his desk carrying a Pensieve, a memory phial, and a large file. “I didn’t get a chance to look at any of it,” Harry explained, letting the items fall to his desk with a thud. “Which do you want? The memory or the file?”
Ron eyed the thick looking folder but decided to go with the Pensieve memory instead, believing that it would be the more objective of the two accounts. Harry nodded in agreement and poured the vapor-like liquid into the bowl. He looked at Ron one last time before gripping his shoulder and dunking his head into the Pensieve. With a jolt, Ron felt his entire body plummeting forward and down, down, down until he landed in an empty chair next to Harry, who had the misfortune to land in Rita Skeeter’s lap.
“Bloody hell,” Ron murmured as he took in the room. They were in the middle of Courtroom Ten in the Ministry of Magic. Below them was the Wizengamot in their full glory, Rufus Scrimgeour standing out most prominently in the fore.
Ron was too busy staring in awe at the room, which he’d never been in before, to notice that the trial had begun. It wasn’t until he heard Draco’s name that he snapped to attention.
“Draco Malfoy,” Scrimgeour was saying, “along with the suspected Death Eaters Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Marcus Flint, has been accused of assisting in the brutal murder of the Muggles Warren Maus, his wife Liesel, and their two daughters, Ilse and Klara, on the evening of 24 October 1999. According to eye-witness testimony, these four men aided known Death Eaters Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair in the murders of these four Muggles.”
Scrimgeour rustled through some parchment. “Ah,” he said when he extracted the one he’d wanted. Looking up, Scrimgeour peered at someone below him and said, “Mr. Maus, you are quoted with saying that you, without a doubt, saw and identified the accused at your home in Kidderminster, Worcestershire on October 24th and that they aided in the deaths of your parents and sisters. However, according to a sworn statement given by Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy was with him that night, the entire night, working on the destruction of the last of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s Horcruxes. How do you explain Mr. Malfoy being in two places at once?”
Ron watched in growing horror as Richard stood up from his chair and smoothed down the front of his worn robes. “Sir,” he said in a rising voice, “I know what I saw that night. I saw Malfoy there! I know he was there. He must have Confunded Potter, or-or something, but I saw him kill my baby sisters and-!”
“Mr. Maus, calm down!” Scrimgeour exclaimed, banging his gavel. “In the reports filed by St. Mungo’s staff that night, you had been put under the Cruciatus Curse several times. It is possible, then, that you may have been suffering under a delusional episode that led you to believe that Draco Malfoy and these other men were there that night at your house. Furthermore, Messrs Nott, Zabini, and Flint also have alibis, confirmed by Veritaserum administered by our own Aurors.”
Removing his spectacles, Scrimgeour rubbed his eyes for a moment, then replaced them and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Maus, but these men are innocent and played no part in the death of your family.”
Richard’s face drained entirely of its color. “You can’t do that!” he shouted, striding forward towards the judges’ balcony, looking completely out of his mind. “They killed my family!” he shrieked, as guards grabbed him by the waist and dragged him back. “Let go of me! LET ME GO! THEY KILLED THEM! I’LL KILL THEM IF IT’S THE LAST THING I-!”
With a whoosh and a feeling as if his stomach was going to drop out of his body, Ron and Harry landed back at Harry’s desk, both pale and shaking.
“I don’t believe it,” Ron whispered, swallowing against the bile that was rising in his throat. “Richard-he would n-never do that. Never. I can’t-”
“His family had just died,” reasoned Harry. “Of course he was distraught. I would-was, after Ginny…” Harry turned his head away and coughed roughly. He then suddenly grabbed the file folder and tore it open, reading rapidly.
“He got a N.E.W.T. in Potions and Defense,” Harry read. “Oh God…”
“What?” Ron grunted, feeling sick.
Running a hand through his hair, Harry looked up and said, “Did you know that Richard used to work in the Experimental Spells office? His specializations were hexes, curses…and the Unforgivables.”
“No,” Ron choked out. He couldn’t believe it. He refused…
“For a while, he worked with Wesley Scott in the potions laboratory,” Harry continued in a whisper. “They knew each other. I remember,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “I remember being interviewed. I was asked where Malfoy was that night, and of course, that was when we destroyed Hufflepuff’s Cup with the Four Elements Spell. Malfoy was air…”
“NO,” Ron said, slowly losing all sense of control. Harry looked up sharply and grabbed Ron by the shoulders; and then something suddenly occurred to him.
“Ron,” said Harry, panicking, “Ron, fuck, we’ve got to get back to your flat. Ron, come on! COME ON!” With a roar, Harry tore Ron away from his desk and forced him down the corridors and into a lift. Once they’d finally made it outside, Harry Apparated them both to Ron’s flat. The Aurors who were supposed to be standing guard were gone.
“Fuck,” hissed Harry, and he quickly scanned the area with his wand. “Fuck. They’re not here. Ron, where are you going?” Harry yelped when Ron ran to the front door of the building, threw it open, and ran up the stairs.
Bursting through his front door, Ron ran into his flat and shouted, “Draco!” The living room was empty, as was the kitchen. Panic settling in the pit of his stomach, Ron turned on every light in his house as he search through the bedrooms, the bathroom, the cupboards, anywhere.
“No,” Ron said for the millionth time that night. The flat was empty. No one was there. “NO! FUCK!” He felt sick, so sick that Ron though he might throw up any second. His heart was pounding in his chest, bile rising in his throat. Draco was gone. Richard had taken him.
Richard was a murderer and he’d tried to kill Draco and Hermione. And Ron had unknowingly given him all the information he’d needed.
Right after Ron vomited, he passed out.
It must have been only an hour later when Ron woke up to find his flat swarming with Aurors. He was on his sofa covered with a lopsided blanket Hermione had knitted him years ago. He saw Harry standing in the corner by his fireplace talking intensely with Tonks and Shacklebolt. His eyes moving over the other occupants of the room, Ron was surprised to see his parents standing near the kitchen door, both looking drawn and worried.
Pushing himself up and brushing off a wave of dizziness, Ron took a couple of deep breaths and then stood. He needed to know what was going on, what was being done for Draco. To rescue him. Because he was still alive. Ron squeezed his eyes shut at the thought that Draco wasn’t.
His mother saw him and looked as if she wanted to rush over and coddle him, but Ron’s dad held her back, for which Ron was grateful. He quickly made his way over to Harry, just in time to hear him say, “There has to be a coincidence in where we found those three bodies and Maus’s family home-Ron! You’re awake.”
“What about Richard’s home?” Ron asked sharply. Harry exchanged a look with Tonks and Shacklebolt.
“Er, I dunno if I should tell you-”
“Dammit, Harry,” Ron barked. “I have a right to know!”
“Ron, this is an active case,” interjected a worried-looking Tonks. “Right now, if we say anything, it could end up backfiring badly. I’m sorry, but we can’t tell you anything more.”
With gritted teeth, Ron managed not to explode at Tonks, instead choosing to back away and walk towards the door.
“Hey, where are you going?” Harry asked, coming up behind him.
“I just need some air, is that okay?” snapped Ron.
Harry was a little taken-aback, but nodded and followed Ron out the door, down the stairs, and outside, where they could be blissfully alone. Turning on Harry, Ron demanded, “So tell me about the deaths and their connection to Richard’s home.”
Mouth agape, Harry stared at Ron incredulously. “I can’t tell you!” he hissed.
Ron crossed his arms and straightened his back, leaving him to tower over Harry and hopefully, give him some leverage. “If you don’t tell me, it’ll just take that much longer for me to find Draco.”
Harry sighed and looked utterly torn. His eyes swept over the street, and satisfied that no one was around, said, “The bodies of Zabini, Nott, and Flint were all found within Kidderminster. They’d been dead for a while, though, but we believe that Maus-Richard. Fuck. We believe that he dumped the bodies after getting nervous, especially since Malfoy was still alive and could possibly identify him.”
Ron was quiet for a very long time before saying, “Richard took me to Kidderminster a while back. He wanted me to see his home. It’s a warehouse now, did you know?”
Harry paled considerably. “You’ve…been there before?”
Ron didn’t hear Harry shout his name before he Disapparated.
~*~
Ron had only been to Kidderminster once, and that was about a year or so ago, around the same time. Richard had wanted Ron to see where he’d grown up, since Ron was always having him over at the Burrow. It had been a very somber visit, and Richard had been very quiet after they’d seen the warehouse that now stood on the property. Ron recalled that he and Richard had had a conversation about death and loss. Ginny had figured prominently. So had Lucius Malfoy. Richard had asked Ron that if he could, would he kill Malfoy himself as revenge for Ginny’s death? For the life of him, Ron couldn’t remember what he said. But he wondered if it was then Richard decided to get the ultimate vengeance on the people who ruined his life.
The warehouse was at the end of a deserted street, which Ron didn’t think was a good omen, and cautiously approached the dilapidated building. He didn’t notice any lights, but he knew that Richard was smart enough to cover his tracks.
Don’t think about Richard now, Ron told himself sternly. He had to get to Draco. He had to save him.
It took Ron almost fifteen minutes to find a door he could open with a simple Unlocking Charm, and once he was inside, his entire body was a jumble of nerves. It didn’t help that he was sweating profusely and breathing like a ruddy hippogriff in heat.
Ron figured he was near the back of the warehouse, where the offices were located. He had no idea where Richard might have taken Draco, but he figured he should keep going forward. Draco just had to be there somewhere.
Finally, Ron came to the opening to the main storage facility. It was pitch black inside the giant room, but Ron didn’t dare light his wand for fear of Richard striking him or Draco. He stood in silence for what felt like hours, listening, barely breathing. Where are they? he thought frantically. They had to be there!
Suddenly every light in the facility came on with a blinding force and Ron found himself standing in the center of the room. Draco was tied to a chair not ten feet to his right.
Richard was in front of Ron holding a wand to his face.
“I thought you’d come,” he whispered. Richard’s normally light green eyes were bloodshot and wild. He had several bruises on his chin and cheeks, as if he’d been in a fistfight recently. Or a scuffle. Ron mentally cheered Draco.
“Richard,” Ron choked out, “don’t do this. We can get you some help-”
“Lower your wand,” Richard said in an eerily calm voice.
“Richard, please,” Ron pleaded, giving up all pretense of bravery. He was scared out of his mind, but not for himself. He was terrified that Richard would do something to Draco.
“SHUT UP!” Richard shrieked. “Lower your wand and throw it away!”
Swallowing, Ron nodded and slowly let his arm fall down to his side and then tossed his wand to the right.
“Good,” hissed Richard. “Yeah. Good.” He grinned maniacally then and let out a scathing laugh. “Who’d’ve thought it! Ron Weasley, Ron ‘I-Always-Top’ Weasley, throwing away his only source of power!” Richard bared his teeth and snarled. “Funny how you were never willing to make any of those sacrifices for me.”
“This isn’t about you and me, Richard,” Ron said shakily. “This is about you.”
“You’re right.” Richard began edging towards where Ron had tossed his wand. “You’re right, you’re right, I know that, but I can’t help but feel a little….Oh, what’s the word? BETRAYED,” he screamed, “that you left me for him! For a Death Eater! A murderer!”
“He never killed anyone!” shouted Ron, taking a very small step backwards when Richard was eyeing the wand. “He was with me and Harry and Hermione that night your family was killed. I was there, I know it’s the truth!”
“It was a trick!” Richard was within reach of the wand. “I SAW Malfoy!”
“He was with us that night!” Fuck, Ron needed to get to that wand before Richard did. He needed to distract him. Thinking quickly, and a bit wildly, Ron said, “You probably made it all up anyway!”
Richard froze and he glared venomously at Ron. “What?” he growled.
“Yeah, you made it up,” Ron said, throwing caution to the wind and taking another step closer to the wand. “You weren’t satisfied with just Lucius Malfoy and Macnair’s deaths, no, you needed more blood, you needed vengeance. So you made up this story about how Malfoy and a few other Slytherins aided in the death of your family because, hey, you never had any love-loss for the House anyway, am I right?”
Richard was so incensed he was shaking and his attention was now firmly focused on Ron. He only needed to get a little bit closer to the wand now…
Suddenly, there was a roar, a shout, a body hurtling through the air. Richard screamed and was knocked backwards as Draco barreled into Richard’s chest, knocking him to the ground. They wrestled for Richard’s wand, and it was all happening so fast. Ron dived to get his wand when there was a flash of light, another scream, and then he was thrown twenty feet into the air. He landed hard on his back, the air knocked completely out of him, as Draco and Richard rolled around on the floor, punching and biting at one another. Ron struggled to sit up, to go help fight, but his ribs screamed in protest and the pain was too much to bear. He probably broke something important, Ron thought madly.
Draco and Richard were shouting, there were screams, groans, Ron would barely see, his vision was blurring the pain was so bad, and then a voice shouted, “Sectumsempra!”
There was an ungodly tearing noise, a choked cry, more shuffling, and then blessed silence.
Please, God, please let Draco be all right, please…
That was the last thought Ron had before the darkness encompassed him and he no longer felt the pain.
~*~
The room was so blindingly white that Ron reckoned he was in heaven. Surely he’d see an angel any second now….And of course Ginny would be one as well. He was looking forward to seeing her again….
“If you don’t wake up, I’m going to replace that hideous sofa with one that’s green and silver.”
Ron smiled lazily at the voice. Draco. He must be in heaven, too. Ron always knew Draco was a good man.
“And then I’ll be forced to rid the flat of that coffee table as well. Hell, Ron, why didn’t you tell me the truth about your furniture when I first moved in?”
Why Draco was talking about sofas and coffee tables was beyond Ron. But whatever makes him happy, he thought languidly.
“And finally, the orange in your room. You know how I never approved of the Cannons anyway. Now I’ll just have an excuse to cover your room in Tornados paraphernalia.”
What? Draco can’t do that! The Tornados suck!
“Ron? Ron! Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand, love, come on, squeeze my hand…”
Love…?
The white was just as glaringly bright with his eyes open as it was when he was unconscious, Ron though. Squinting, and a bit nauseous from the pain in his back, Ron turned his head slightly and found Draco sitting in a chair beside his bed, holding his hand in a death grip.
“Ron,” Draco gasped when he saw Ron’s blue eyes. With considerable self-restraint, Draco bit his lip and swallowed audibly. “Fuck, Ron, I didn’t-you weren’t waking up-” He let out a soft choked sob and then buried his head into Ron’s thigh.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Draco whispered hoarsely.
Ron ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and tugged gently. Draco raised his head and it was then Ron noticed the glasses.
“What are these?” he asked teasingly.
“You’ve been out for about a week,” Draco explained. “While I was here, too, the Healers ran some tests on my eyes and said that they weren’t going to get any better without some kind of surgery. So I had to get glasses.” Draco took them off and examined them. “At least they’re not as horrendous as Potter’s.”
Ron guffawed and then began to cough, which only made the pain in the back escalate. Once the fit subsided, Ron settled back against his pillows and asked, “What happened to Richard?”
Draco’s face clouded over and he turned his head. “He was going to cast the Killing Curse on you. I had to stop him.”
“He’s dead.” It was a statement, not a question. Somehow, Ron knew that Richard wouldn’t survive. His heart ached then for a former friend and lover Ron had known for the past four years. He had taught Ron much about life and relationships; he’d delivered Hermione’s baby. But Richard was sick, consumed by anger and lust for revenge. The Richard that Ron knew had died a long time ago, he realized. It still didn’t hurt any less, though.
“I’m not sorry,” Draco stated. Ron looked up and stared evenly back at Draco.
“Good.”
Draco gave Ron a tentative smile, and Ron remembered something then. Grinning, he tugged Draco forward until he was nearly on the bed. “Oh, and Draco? You’re not touching my bedroom.”
The sound of laughter filled the air.
Fin