Threshold
Title: Thresholds
Rating: PG
Summary: Draco gets taken in by the Weasleys, and hot vs. cold are not what they seem. Spoilers for OotP and COS.
Pairing: Draco/Ron.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimer: Not mine, and the characters belong to J. K. Rowling. If they were mine, I’d never leave the house. Please, don’t sue.
Draco stepped over the threshold and into Ron’s bedroom, and wondered if he’d just walked into the interior of the Sun itself.
The room was decorated in garish colors of orange, yellow, orange, red, and orange. Everything in the room that wasn’t furniture was adorned with the colors and images of Ron’s favorite team, The Chudley Cannons.
It didn’t surprise Draco at all that it would be the worse team in the league that would be this Weasley’s favorite.
And this was the single most horrendously decorated room Draco Malfoy had ever laid eyes on. He turned around and saw Ron standing in the doorway with his arms crossed wearing a bright yellow shirt and tan slacks.
Of course, Draco thought. “Um, where do I sleep?” was what he said.
Ron shrugged, looking about as pleased with the situation as Draco felt. “On the floor for all I care, but knowing mum, you’ll either have a Comfo-matic sleeping bag or you’ll have to share my bed with me.”
Draco nodded and lowered his trunk to the floor. “I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.”
“Please. I used to share a room with Fred and George before my brothers moved, and Harry will be joining us next week. I can more than hold my own when it comes to finding room to sleep on my own bed.”
Draco gulped and opened up his trunk. All his school materials, wand, robes, and a small stash of gold were inside, along with what few possessions the Ministry deemed fit for Malfoy to take with him before the Manor had been seized was inside.
It was all that Malfoy had left in the world now that both his parents were in Azkaban. He rummaged through his clothing, looking for something he could change into. “There’s something I have to know, Weasley.”
Ron said nothing, but he had a feeling those blue eyes of his were focused on him, so Draco continued.
“Ron? Why did your father offer to take me in? Cause I’m getting the impression your father and you don’t want me here.”
“It was mom’s choice, to be honest with you. She said something about blood being thicker and us being cousins. Harry helped to convince us too.”
Draco kept searching with a frown. He had never felt so unwanted in his life.
Being unable to find his pajamas wasn’t helping his mood either.
“Here,” Ron said, and his hand was holding something bright red, yellow, and brown in front of him. Draco took whatever it was and held it in up his hands.
They were a pair of plaid pajamas, about his size but with the legs a bit too long for his frame. The material felt scratchy, as if the mere act of holding them would singe everything Weasley into his skin if he wore them even once.
He looked at Ron.
“Dad said you didn’t have much time to pack whatever the Ministry would let you carry,” Ron said, his cheeks turning red. “So you can borrow these until we can get to Diagon Alley next week. I think the Ministry is allowing you limited access to whatever was in the trust that your father set up, so you can get whatever you need then.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet. According to Harry I snore louder than most dragons in existence. I’ll um, leave you to change.”
***********************
Ron rubbed his face in his hands as he made his way down the stairs into the bathroom over his mother’s shouts for the boys to hurry up and come downstairs to get their breakfast.
“I’ll be ready in a few, Mum,” He shouted with his hand on the doorframe. He turned the knob and pushed. “I’ll be ready just as soon as I…”
Ron stopped as soon as he took that first step onto the tile floor.
Draco stood leaning over the stark white bathroom sink, his hair plastered to his skull from the shower, with a pale blue towel draped loosely around his hips. Ron blinked and took in the view of creamy, porcelain skin creating the landscape that was Draco’s back and shoulders before his eyes. His hair on his body was so pale, it was almost invisible to Ron’s eyes, save for the light refraction of light that hit on the wet hair on Draco’s skin.
Draco was, as always, stunning.
Draco saw Ron in the mirror and turned around to face him. His cheeks were a pale shade of pink. “Don’t tell me that Weasleys don’t believe in knocking before they enter a room now.”
“Er… Um…”
“It’s okay, I’m almost done here. I just need to finish doing this one thing, and then it’s all yours, Weasel.” Turning back to the mirror, Draco poured a small amount of pale grey lotion into his hands and wiped it quickly over his face and neck. He glanced at Ron with his hematite colored eyes through the mirror
“It’s a potion that my Mum gave me to prevent break outs, not that I need it because I’ve got perfect skin and all. I have to use it after every shower, but that’s really not an issue since I do that twice a day. I can make you a bottle if you like. You could probably use some anyway.”
“Um…”
Draco shrugged, his expression smug. He turned around in bare feet the same shade of ivory as the rest of him and stepped past Ron. “There, done. It’s all yours Weasel.”
Ron shivered as their bodies brushed and stepped past Draco to close the door. Turning back to the barren bathroom he saw the only color in the room.
It was the flannel pajamas that he gave to Draco the night before.
Rating: PG
Summary: Draco gets taken in by the Weasleys, and hot vs. cold are not what they seem. Spoilers for OotP and COS.
Pairing: Draco/Ron.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimer: Not mine, and the characters belong to J. K. Rowling. If they were mine, I’d never leave the house. Please, don’t sue.
Draco stepped over the threshold and into Ron’s bedroom, and wondered if he’d just walked into the interior of the Sun itself.
The room was decorated in garish colors of orange, yellow, orange, red, and orange. Everything in the room that wasn’t furniture was adorned with the colors and images of Ron’s favorite team, The Chudley Cannons.
It didn’t surprise Draco at all that it would be the worse team in the league that would be this Weasley’s favorite.
And this was the single most horrendously decorated room Draco Malfoy had ever laid eyes on. He turned around and saw Ron standing in the doorway with his arms crossed wearing a bright yellow shirt and tan slacks.
Of course, Draco thought. “Um, where do I sleep?” was what he said.
Ron shrugged, looking about as pleased with the situation as Draco felt. “On the floor for all I care, but knowing mum, you’ll either have a Comfo-matic sleeping bag or you’ll have to share my bed with me.”
Draco nodded and lowered his trunk to the floor. “I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.”
“Please. I used to share a room with Fred and George before my brothers moved, and Harry will be joining us next week. I can more than hold my own when it comes to finding room to sleep on my own bed.”
Draco gulped and opened up his trunk. All his school materials, wand, robes, and a small stash of gold were inside, along with what few possessions the Ministry deemed fit for Malfoy to take with him before the Manor had been seized was inside.
It was all that Malfoy had left in the world now that both his parents were in Azkaban. He rummaged through his clothing, looking for something he could change into. “There’s something I have to know, Weasley.”
Ron said nothing, but he had a feeling those blue eyes of his were focused on him, so Draco continued.
“Ron? Why did your father offer to take me in? Cause I’m getting the impression your father and you don’t want me here.”
“It was mom’s choice, to be honest with you. She said something about blood being thicker and us being cousins. Harry helped to convince us too.”
Draco kept searching with a frown. He had never felt so unwanted in his life.
Being unable to find his pajamas wasn’t helping his mood either.
“Here,” Ron said, and his hand was holding something bright red, yellow, and brown in front of him. Draco took whatever it was and held it in up his hands.
They were a pair of plaid pajamas, about his size but with the legs a bit too long for his frame. The material felt scratchy, as if the mere act of holding them would singe everything Weasley into his skin if he wore them even once.
He looked at Ron.
“Dad said you didn’t have much time to pack whatever the Ministry would let you carry,” Ron said, his cheeks turning red. “So you can borrow these until we can get to Diagon Alley next week. I think the Ministry is allowing you limited access to whatever was in the trust that your father set up, so you can get whatever you need then.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet. According to Harry I snore louder than most dragons in existence. I’ll um, leave you to change.”
***********************
Ron rubbed his face in his hands as he made his way down the stairs into the bathroom over his mother’s shouts for the boys to hurry up and come downstairs to get their breakfast.
“I’ll be ready in a few, Mum,” He shouted with his hand on the doorframe. He turned the knob and pushed. “I’ll be ready just as soon as I…”
Ron stopped as soon as he took that first step onto the tile floor.
Draco stood leaning over the stark white bathroom sink, his hair plastered to his skull from the shower, with a pale blue towel draped loosely around his hips. Ron blinked and took in the view of creamy, porcelain skin creating the landscape that was Draco’s back and shoulders before his eyes. His hair on his body was so pale, it was almost invisible to Ron’s eyes, save for the light refraction of light that hit on the wet hair on Draco’s skin.
Draco was, as always, stunning.
Draco saw Ron in the mirror and turned around to face him. His cheeks were a pale shade of pink. “Don’t tell me that Weasleys don’t believe in knocking before they enter a room now.”
“Er… Um…”
“It’s okay, I’m almost done here. I just need to finish doing this one thing, and then it’s all yours, Weasel.” Turning back to the mirror, Draco poured a small amount of pale grey lotion into his hands and wiped it quickly over his face and neck. He glanced at Ron with his hematite colored eyes through the mirror
“It’s a potion that my Mum gave me to prevent break outs, not that I need it because I’ve got perfect skin and all. I have to use it after every shower, but that’s really not an issue since I do that twice a day. I can make you a bottle if you like. You could probably use some anyway.”
“Um…”
Draco shrugged, his expression smug. He turned around in bare feet the same shade of ivory as the rest of him and stepped past Ron. “There, done. It’s all yours Weasel.”
Ron shivered as their bodies brushed and stepped past Draco to close the door. Turning back to the barren bathroom he saw the only color in the room.
It was the flannel pajamas that he gave to Draco the night before.