RP: Making A Plan, Checking it Twice and Failing
Title: Making A Plan, Checking it Twice and Failing
Rating: PG
Prompt: Self-Prompt
Word Count: 9300
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: When Ron is forced to marry Draco, he tries to find a way out. Will he manage? Will he want to?
Notes: After years of writing, I found this fic hard to write, but I hope it came out all right. Enjoy!
Ron entered the Burrow and immediately worried. His parents were sitting at the dinner table with big mugs of tea in front of them and large plates filled with biscuits and cakes. He could smell pie from the kitchen. The amount of baked goods was more worrisome than the look on his parents' faces, and that wasn't promising either.
"Is everything all right?" he said as he sat down.
His mother sighed, before looking at his father. "I suppose."
"No, it's not all right," Arthur hissed with barely contained anger. "It's nonsense, that's what it is."
Molly put a hand on Arthur's arm and then looked at Ron. "We had a visit from Narcissa Malfoy today."
"What in bloody hell does she want? Isn't it enough that Harry made sure that the entire family is walking around like nothing happened?" Ron asked. "If they are bothering you, I can get Patrol. It could be their New Year's Eve present. Or a belated Christmas present."
"No. You can't get anyone involved. It'd be so much worse." Molly sighed. "There's really not a good way to say this."
"You haven't said anything." Ron frowned. "Mom, Dad, what is it?"
"It's the bloody family curse," Arthur said. "It's… very old, and just one of the many reasons I despise Lucius Malfoy. Once upon a time, there was a minor war between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. We're talking in the sixteenth century or something. No one knows for sure. There was hexing and political drama. The Ministry gave the two families a choice: reach an agreement or go to Azkaban."
"They reached an agreement," Molly added.
"The Malfoy heir of the time ended up marrying one of the Weasley girls. However, the Ministry wanted something more… long term. They added a clause that would give one party the right to ask for a marriage at any time in the future," Arthur explained.
"That's why Narcissa was here," Molly said.
"They want Malfoy to marry Ginny? But she's off dating… who's she dating again?" Ron asked, because he couldn't keep track of who Ginny was dating at any given time. It was much easier when she was with Harry, but that had ended a year ago.
"Well-" Molly exchanged another look with Arthur. "Apparently they are interested in … you!"
Ron looked at his mother and then laughed. "Good one, Mum. If George put you up to this-"
"It's not a joke," Arthur said with a grave voice. "She was really here. To arrange a wedding between you and her son."
"Please, Ron, you need to listen to what your father is saying," Molly added.
Ron listened. He listened and drank. None of that tea his mother was offering, but enough firewhiskey that made the entire night a fuzzy memory when he passed out with his clothes on in his old room. In the morning, his mother handed him a potion and tea, in that order. The potion made the hangover go away, but unfortunately it returned the memories of the night before.
"This is real," he said.
His mother looked at him lovingly. "I'm sorry, Ron. If there was anything we could do-"
Ron put the cup on the nightstand. "I've got to go, Mum." He kissed her cheek, put his shoes on and used the Floo to reach Grimmauld Place.
"Ron, what happened to you last night? We were waiting for you," Hermione greeted him as he stepped into the drawing room.
"It was fine," Harry said with a smile. "We could skip a night of research on magic and its genetic elements. What kept you away? You look like shit. You look better after stakeouts."
Ron slumped on the couch. "I had a talk with my parents." He started telling the story, or as much as he knew, in a very colourful way.
"How is this legal?" Harry said.
"It used to be very common," Hermione said. "The Ministry eventually banned the use of such curses in 1843. I know because Daphne was talking about a family curse when I went back to Hogwarts and I started looking into it."
"Aren't you sorry we skipped more research?" Ron said with a tiny smile.
Harry rolled his eyes. "So what are the actual consequences? And can we… I don't know, arrest them if the curses are banned?"
"No," Hermione said. "That's the problem with the ban. Unless someone tries to activate the curse immediately, it might take decades if not centuries to be activated, like in this case. The people who cast the curse would be long dead, making the ban more symbolic than anything else, because you can't arrest Lucius Malfoy for something that his ancestors did."
"All right, so can we break it?" Harry said, looking at Hermione with a hopeful expression. "You can find anything."
"Oh Harry, I wish I could. I really did look. Astoria is sick and she could die at any time. Daphne doesn't like to talk about it, which is why I never mentioned it before, but it's not a secret, and I tried to find a way to break the curse, but there's really no way," Hermione said with a sigh. "That's really the terrible thing about this curse. Say that Ron turns Malfoy down, nothing might happen to him, but his parents, his siblings or any of their descendants could be affected."
"I won't let them die because of me," Ron said. "Victoire is so young. It can affect an unborn child. It could be one of their children. This curse goes on forever, Harry. Two hundred years from now, a great-grandchild might die because I said no. I can't do that."
"You need to speak to Malfoy," Harry said, stubbornly. "It's the one solution that will solve everything. If he calls it off, his mother would go along. Narcissa would do anything for him."
Ron sat up. "That's… not a bad idea."
Harry huffed. "You sound surprised."
"Usually Hermione or Neville are the one with the good ideas. We're the ones doing what they say," Ron admitted with a shrug. They had relied one too many times on Neville when the three of them joined the Auror division. Three eighteen year olds, with no NEWTs, no training, sent out there to arrest Death Eaters. If it hadn't been for Neville's good sense, they'd have probably been hurt a lot more.
"On occasion, I have brilliant ideas," Harry said.
"And they usually involve Malfoy," Hermione said with a chuckle.
"Oh, his ideas about Malfoy are usually terrible," Ron said, "But since I have nothing to lose. I'll go after lunch. I skipped breakfast and now I'm starved."
"Losing your appetite never lasts long," Hermione said, laughing. "Come on, let's have brunch and then you can talk to Malfoy."
Why had he listened to Harry? He should have known better. For Harry, things were always black and white when it came to Malfoy. Some might say the same about Ron, but they'd be wrong. Things were always black as far as Ron was concerned. The little git had been terrible from day one on the Hogwarts Express and had continued to be horrible through the years. Sure, he might have lied to Bellatrix and saved their lives, but Ron was sure that there was some ulterior motive behind that and it had nothing to do with saving their lives.
Really, he should have stayed at Grimmauld Place. A bottle of firewhiskey or ten would have helped. Being drunk for the rest of his life seemed like a decent plan if his future meant dealing with the Malfoys on a daily basis. It was certainly more pleasant than what he was currently doing, walking up to Malfoy Manor and knocking on the door.
Ron hadn't been back since the trials. Back then, he had gotten a sadistic pleasure at every visit, because the Malfoys were terrified of the Aurors and he was the one with all the power. If it hadn't been for Harry's good heart, they'd be rotting in Azkaban. Yes, Ron had told Harry over breakfast that it was his bloody fault that he had to marry Malfoy. It wouldn't have happened if he'd been stuck in prison.
Hermione had gone really quiet and really cold at that, but it was true!
Ron had not apologised and he was currently not happy with either of his two best-friends. They should be finding a way to get Malfoy arrested, not defending the ferret. Why weren't they on his side? Still angry, he ignored the house-elf that opened the door and waltzed inside as he owned the place. "Where's Malfoy?"
"Master-"
"No, not that Malfoy. The son, Draco," he said, already climbing the stairs, knowing that the family quarters would be in the two upper floors. "Show me his room." The house-elf Apparated to the first landing and led Ron through the stairs and hallways until he was in front of Draco's bedroom. The house-elf was panicking, but Ron simply opened the door and walked in. "You have to tell your parents that you don't want to marry me."
He stopped when he realised that the room was pitch black, heavy curtains (and possibly some spells) blocking the midday sun from coming in. "Lumos." He took a good look around the room. His first thought was 'bloody hell, he has a sitting room in his bedroom'. His second thought was- "Why are you still in bed?"
Draco sighed. "If you're here to arrest me, come back later."
"As much as I'd enjoy arresting you, Harry says I can't. Also we're not planning our wedding, because we're not getting married," Ron said.
"What are you on about?" Draco got out of bed, uncaring of the fact that he was naked. He summoned a robe and put in on. "I'm too hungover for your dramatics, so cut the bullshit."
"Me? What am I saying? Your mother is the one showing up at my parents’ house, using some old curse to force me to marry you and you have the balls to be upset? I'm not Harry. I'm not putting up with your shit, Malfoy. Get your mother to back down," Ron said.
"How am I supposed to do that when I have no fucking clue what you're talking about?" He rubbed his head. "Just a moment." He went to his nightstand and uncorked a vial. He swallowed it in one go and then turned to Ron. "Explain."
For the second time in a few hours, Ron went through the story. He was getting good at this, able to concentrate on the important details and present everything in a clear manner, instead of veering off into curse-filled tangents. When he finished, he glared at Draco. "How can you not know this?"
"Mother has been… concerned," Draco said. "She doesn't like the life I'm leading and apparently she thinks that the way to solve it is by marrying us off, which won't happen. I'll speak to them and I'll fix it. You can go … I have no idea where you live, and I don't care, but I'll owl you when it's done. Go away and we never have to see each other again."
Ron felt a little deflated. Maybe, Harry had been right. Maybe, this could be fixed. Maybe he should just go home and forget that the past twenty-four hours had happened.
Harry was wrong. He should have known when he opened the door and saw Narcissa Malfoy standing in front of his door. "No one knows where I live."
Narcissa gave him a small smile. "Mr. Potter, I would give you a list of all the people who know where you live, but it would be too long. Let's assume that the ones who could be a danger to you are in Azkaban and my family wouldn't hurt you. I was surprised to learn that you removed the Fidelius."
"That and some other stuff. Hard to get deliveries from the Muggle world," Harry answered. "Never mind that, what can I do for you, Mrs. Malfoy?"
"I'm actually here to see Mr. Weasley. I was told that he lives with you," she said.
"Ah, yes, come on in." Harry stepped aside and let her in. He closed the door before walking to the staircase. "Follow me. You can wait in the drawing room. We just got back from work and he was taking a shower. I'll see if he's done. You know where it is, right?"
Narcissa nodded. "Thank you." She made her way to the drawing room. Once there, she took a long look around the room, cataloguing the differences from the last time she'd been here.
"Draco wasn't even born the last time I was here," she said when she heard Ron enter the room. She turned to face him. "Mr. Weasley, please forgive the intrusion, but I've come to realise that contacting your parents instead of you was a mistake. May we speak?"
Ron snorted. "How much did Malfoy complain?" He knew that it wasn't the polite answer, but he wasn't in the mood for politeness. "I don't want to talk to you, or anyone in your family, but I don't think I have a choice, so let's talk." He gestured to the couch, while he took a seat in what he considered Hermione's arm chair.
There was a pop and tea and biscuits appeared. That was most certainly the polite thing to do, but Ron would have never thought of it. He wanted her out as quickly as possible and he discouraged any idea that this would be a long meeting by ignoring the tray, even though the biscuits smelled like heaven. "Can we avoid this marriage?"
Narcissa sighed. "We can't. Please, let me explain. I know this will make me very unpopular with a lot of people. My husband and my son aren't too thrilled with me at the moment, either, but I have no choice. I would do anything for Draco and this marriage… it might just be the only way to keep him alive."
Ron frowned. "Is anyone threatening him? We can solve that without a marriage," he reassured her.
"No, nothing of the sort. Unless you count the random threats and insults that we've been getting since the trials," she said, dismissing the threat with a wave of her hand. "Draco- he's lost. After the trial, he had no one. Your side didn't exactly forgive and forget, not that I expected them too. But our friends were also less than pleased with our decision to cooperate. A great many people went to jail based on our testimony, including people who might not have faced any consequences without our involvement. Draco lost a lot of friends."
"So did we, but our friends died. My brother died," Ron said. "If this is some pity party, I'm not interested."
Narcissa shook her head. "I would never." Her tone was rather affronted at the idea, but Ron didn't remind her that they had done just that with Harry prior to the hearing. "I'm explaining why I'm pushing for this wedding. With no other friends, Draco has become close to Blaise and they have been traipsing around Europe for the past four years. They are twenty-three and they spend their nights in clubs, taking all sorts of potions. He sleeps all day. I'm afraid that if he keeps going like this, he will die. He needs something, he needs responsibilities and he needs someone who will argue with him and make him… feel again."
Ron crossed his arms, studying her like he would a chess board. "Why do I have a feeling that I'm getting the very shortened version?"
"Because you know that I wouldn't be here, asking for a marriage just because he's sad," she said, snapping, before she took a deep breath. "I apologise. This isn't easy for me either. I would have loved for my son to find happiness and love, but I doubt that he'll find either where he spends his nights. I can't say that marrying a Weasley was the height of my inspiration and I'm sure you feel the same about Draco, but you can do this. You can save my son. As you can see, talking to Draco won't make me change my mind, because no matter how much I want to make him happy, I want to keep him alive more."
"Why me? Why not one of my brothers? Or Ginny?" Ron had been thinking about that one since the hangover had gone away.
"My son prefers men, even though he has had the occasional dally with a woman. I suppose he always thought that he'd get married to a woman, but that's not what he prefers, and I do want him to be happy. As for your brothers-" She smiled. "I saw the fire in Draco when he talked about you and Potter. I could have tried to ask him, but after some inquiries I found out that he's quite serious with Pansy and he doesn't seem to like men. You've dated men after your breakup with Ms. Granger. And before you accuse me of stalking, I simply read it in the Daily Prophet. Rita is rather obsessed with the three of you."
"One of these days, I'll hex that old bat," Ron murmured. "I don't know what you expect me to do after we get married. It's not like he has to listen to me."
Narcissa shrugged. "I am hoping that just having you around will help. A good influence from someone who was raised to believe in family, and if this helps our families to reunite, then even better."
"You're betting a lot on this marriage, and risking a lot of unhappiness. Hell, I'm already unhappy," Ron blurted out.
"So is Draco. I won't insult you by pretending that your happiness was ever my first concern, but I do hope that you and Draco can be happy. I'll do anything I can to make that happen. We can set up a full wing at the Manor for you. You'll have free run of the house and the house-elves will help you with anything you need, and we can-"
"No." Ron shook his head. "That's not happening. I'm not moving into that house. He'll move in here. He'll learn to do the things we do. He'll learn to deal with other people. You want him to have something in life? Well, lying all day in the dark, knowing that other people will take care of things isn't the way to go."
"But… Malfoys live at the manor," she said, sounding confused at the idea that Draco could live anywhere else.
"But he won't. Maybe one day, but at the start, we won't. I refuse to live there where he thinks he's in charge and I'm a guest. You want this marriage to happen, then we do things my way." Ron had very little control over this marriage, but he would have control about everything around it. Well, maybe not the reception. He really didn't care about that part. "Or we can call it off."
Narcissa seemed hesitant, but finally nodded. "You might be right about the house. Still, I can send a house-elf with Draco if that's acceptable."
Ron thought for a moment. He hated Kreacher and he'd probably hate the new house-elf, but they were useful, no matter what Hermione said, and Malfoy would probably be useless with any common cleaning spell. "That's fine. So since you're the one doing the planning, when are we getting married?"
"I was hoping for a short engagement. No reason to do a long one, like they do now. Mother would have been horrified. Never more than three months was the rule, did you know that?" Narcissa asked.
"Can't say that I ever cared to learn about etiquette in a past century. Or nowadays," Ron said with a snort.
"This wasn't that long ago," Narcissa said. "Anyway, how about… on your birthday? That's two months from now, yes? It gives us a reason why that date and far enough from the anniversary of the Battle. We wouldn't want that."
Ron pinched his nose. "Mrs. Malfoy, I don't want this marriage. I'll do anything I can to get out of it."
"I don't want this marriage either, Mr. Weasley, but I have no choice. I need to save Draco." She stood up. "Anyway, I can get everything ready for the wedding and inform your mother, unless you want to be kept informed."
"No, it's fine. You can run things by Mom. I will continue to find reasons why this shouldn't happen," Ron warned her.
"I would expect nothing else, and now I'll see myself out." She stopped at the door. "And you may call me 'Narcissa'." With that, she was gone.
"You're being mature and very accepting," Hermione had said. She had been wrong. Ron wasn't being accepting. He planned to find a way around this marriage. Getting drunk hadn't helped. Getting angry had been useless. Therefore, he was strategizing. In fact, he had come up with a brilliant plan.
Narcissa wanted this marriage, because she was worried about Draco and that meant that Ron simply had to fix Malfoy in the next two months. He had no time to waste, so bright and early on Saturday morning, he went to Malfoy Manor. Once again, he scared a house-elf, but this time he knew where he was going and went straight to Draco's room.
"Wake up," he said, casting a spell to open all the curtains. "It's a beautiful and very cold January day and we have a wedding to plan."
Draco grunted from under the blankets, but gave no other sign of being awake. Ron went to the bed and pulled the blankets. "Wake up, before I hex you."
Draco blinked. "What- is this- are you real?"
Ron huffed. "Do you always dream of me?"
"More like a nightmare and only recently." Draco rubbed his eyes. "What the hell, Weasley? What time is it?"
"It's nine in the morning, the third of January, 2004. You know, in case you're still too drunk to know," Ron said.
He shook his head. "Don't drink, makes me sick. I prefer… other ways to get happy," he said with a smile. "The continent is a lot more fun than Britain, did you know that?"
"You're still high, aren't you?" Ron shook his head. "And that's nonsense. Try living with my brothers. Fred and George could always get you more fucked up than anything in the rest of Europe or the world." Now, it was only George and he was a lot more careful, and while that was for the best, Ron would have done anything to have Fred back, even be subjected to their experimental potions. "Also you don't look like you had fun. In fact, you look like death warmed you over. When's the last time you ate?" Had he just said that? He was channeling his mother, for Merlin's sake.
"You came here this early on a Saturday to tell me that? Are you mad, Weasley?" Draco asked, not moving from his bed.
"I came here because we have less than two months to get married. Your mother was nice enough to wait until after Boxing Day to tell me how much my life was screwed, but that means we have little time, and if we're doing this, we're doing it properly and that means that we need to work together." At least long enough that he could make Draco act like a normal person and then they could call the wedding off. It was an amazing plan!
"Can we do this properly after dinner?" Draco grabbed the blankets and tried to pull them back over his head. "Weasley, stop annoying me."
"No, you're getting dressed and we're having brunch. I've already told your house-elf. So get up, because we're doing this." Ron waited, but when Draco turned to the other side, trying to hide from the light, he took out his wand and cast a stinging jinx. He smiled at the scream. "Right, I can keep doing this all day long."
Draco sat up, glaring. "How dare-"
"Don't even start with me. It's a simple stinging jinx and you've done much worse, so get up, put some clothes on and let's eat. We can figure out how we'll spend the next two months with food in front of us." Ron mentally named himself the winner of this little encounter when Draco finally got up.
By evening, Ron could see why Narcissa was worried. Draco barely ate all day. He needed potions to wake up, potions to get energy, potions to come down from the highs, potions to regain that up. It was an endless stream of vials coupled with the most irregular lifestyle. Apparently the house-elves were so shocked that he was eating meals at mealtime that they let it slip. Ron's plan had suddenly become a lot harder than he thought, but at the same time, more important. He didn't want to get married and still didn't like Draco, but he wouldn't let the man die from the sheer number of potions.
"Are you listening to me?" Draco asked.
Ron blinked. "That many potions can't be good for you."
Draco looked at the vial and shrugged. "They aren't addictive," he said with a shrug.
"They aren't physically addictive. That doesn't mean that you can live without them, and it doesn't answer whether they are safe for you," Ron pointed out.
"Right, let's assume that I don't care, and you answer the question you didn't hear. How soon are you leaving? I have a portkey set up in an hour and I need to get ready," Draco said.
Ron snorted. He had no intention of leaving and wanted to meet these friends of Draco. "I'm not going anywhere. Well, I am. I'm going to Amsterdam with you. You couldn't possibly go there without your fiancé, now, could you?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "You do understand that I want this marriage as much as you, right? We have to go through the charade, because they are making us do it, but we don't actually have to be married. You can have your life, I can have mine."
Ron shook his head. "Oh no, your mother has been talking about conditions and where we live, and I'm not going to be in a marriage just so we can sleep with other people. If we do this, we really do this. So no more fucking around for either of us."
"Are you mad? We don't even like each other," Draco said.
"Trust me, I know! This is why we're spending time together and why I'm coming with you to bloody Amsterdam," Ron answered. "And then we spend time together on Sunday, and after work during the week."
"You're worse than Potter. At least he was obsessed from a distance." Draco stared at Ron for a moment. "I don't have time to argue with you, but you can't come dressed like that. Let's find something in my closet. Spuffy can tailor it for you. It won't be as good as a tailor, but it'll do."
"You know I don't care about the clothes," Ron said.
Draco snorted. "I can tell, but I do, which is why I'm dressing you." He called the house-elf and picked a pair of trousers and a shirt for Ron to try on. "There, a few modifications and it'll be fine."
Ron frowned. "I thought this would take longer. When my mother goes shopping, it takes forever to pick each thing." He took a long look at his image while the house-elf made the modification. "Blimey, I look better than Bill."
"Which one is that? The curse breaker or the dragon tamer? And I have great taste, know exactly what looks good on people and don't waste time unless I'm picking for myself," Draco answered while he went back to his closet to pick his own clothes.
"Bill is the curse breaker, my oldest brother, and you should remember that we have that portkey in less than an hour," Ron teased, chuckling when Draco flipped him two fingers.
Draco took his sweet time and was ready about two minutes before the portkey went off. They ended up outside some swanky club in Amsterdam. Inside, it was crowded and dark. There were couches lined around the walls. Each small area was enclosed in a giant bubble that kept the volume down, allowing people to talk without having to scream.
They found Draco's friends pretty quickly. Ron didn't know anyone other than Blaise, but he quickly surmised that it didn't matter, because they talked about very little of substance, since they were already high. The music, the inane conversation and the giggling gave him a headache, but Ron sat next to Draco, arm around his shoulder, trying to distract him from the potions.
"You can take some if you want," Flynn said, about an hour after they had arrived and Ron had refused plenty of potions. Flynn was from Germany and seemed to care about nothing but drug and sex.
"Weasley is an Auror," Blaise answered.
Ron rolled his eyes at the sudden quiet. "And that means I deal in the Dark Arts. As long as you aren't using any dark potions, you can take whatever you want. It's Patrol's problem, not mine. Try to take over the world, and then it becomes my problem."
"Saving the world again," Draco said, grinning, even though it wasn't funny.
"So why are you here?" Nino, another friend, asked.
Ron stared at Draco, not sure what to say, but the blond surprised him by kissing him. When Draco pulled back he shrugged, which Ron took as silent permission to tell the truth. "We're getting married," he said knowing that the engagement would be announced in the Daily Prophet in a day or two. "I know, it's sudden, but there's no need for you to be speechless."
Blaise started to laugh. "Merlin, this is great. I can't wait to see people's faces."
"It's not that funny," Draco murmured.
Ron snorted. "It's a bit funny."
"You're an idiot." Draco shook his head, but relaxed against Ron.
"Does this mean that you're off the market?" Flynn asked.
"I can do-"
Ron cut Draco off. "That's exactly what it means and this- well, this is nice, but we can't be here late every night, since I have to be in early in the morning."
Draco glared at Ron as he hissed out. "I don't remember agreeing to this."
"I'm surprised you remember anything," Ron snapped out.
"Fuck you, Weasley." He went to grab one of the vials that they had sitting in the small table in front of them.
Ron grabbed Draco's wrist and glared at him. "You've had enough."
"I haven't had nearly enough," Draco answered.
"If you'll excuse us." Ron wasn't really asking. He got up and dragged Draco with him, walking through the dark club until he could find a spot where they could stand alone. He cast a privacy spell that muted the music blasting on the dance floor, although the spell was not as powerful as the one the club had inside the bubbles. "Now you listen to me. I'm going through this marriage like your mother wants, but I'm not having you fucking around every night. I understand that these potions turn your brain into mush, but we already went through this a few hours ago."
"I thought you were joking. Why the hell do you care? It's not like we're in love. You don't even fucking like me," Draco pointed out.
"True, but a) I believe in marriage and b) more importantly, I have a job that makes me go after Dark Wizards. Use your bloody brains, Malfoy. You're smart, what do you think happens when people find out that we're married? How easily do you think they can get to me, by going through you? Do you really want that?" Ron asked. "No, but you didn't think about that, because you're so high that you'd reach the ceiling in the Great Hall without a broom." He sighed. "I don't want you hurt."
"I can't stay at the manor doing nothing, day in or day out. That will kill me for sure, while your Dark Wizards are just a possibility," Draco answered.
Ron wanted to argue that it wasn't true, but a day with Draco had shown him that it might just be true. "All right, so… we solve that problem instead of putting you at risk. We said you'd move in with me when we get married. Move in now."
"How's that going to help?" Draco asked.
"You can live in the manor for months without seeing your parents. At Grimmauld Place, there are Harry and Hermione. Ginny, Pansy and Daphne come over as well, my brothers-"
"Daphne? As in Greengrass? Why is she coming over?" Draco asked with a frown.
Ron grinned. "You'll find out soon enough, but she's dating Hermione. It's sort of funny, because they aren't hiding it, but the papers are so convinced that they will catch Hermione with her new boyfriend that they have dismissed all the pictures they have with Hermione and Daphne."
"That's… unexpected. Her parents will be less than pleased," he said.
"That's the understatement of the year," Ron said, but didn't elaborate. Daphne could tell Draco more if she wanted. "Going back to our problem, move in. You get your own room and it gives us a chance to get to know each other."
Draco raised his eyebrow. "We went to school together."
"The last time I was in that school was for that battle, after skipping a whole year and the battle was five years ago," Ron answered, trying not to lose his calm. "I hope we aren't the same kids we used to be." He had certainly grown up, although he couldn't say the same about Malfoy who apparently relied on potion to live.
"I don't know… I'm not used to being around people," Draco admitted.
"Yeah? Maybe that's the problem. Your parents let you vegetate. None of that stupidity at the house. You can contribute like the rest of us. It might not be the privileged life you like, but at least you'll do something." He'd have to talk to Harry and Hermione to figure out how Draco could contribute without Kreacher getting his pants in a twist.
"If it doesn't work out, I'm going back home."
Ron was sure that Draco meant to sound determined or threatening, but with all the potions, he sounded too relaxed to pull it off. "Fine, if it doesn't work, you go back to the manor until the wedding." He wasn't sure that the few weeks would make a difference, but again it wasn't the time to argue. "So can we go home now? Because you are tired and taking a potion to stay awake isn't the answer."
"Can't. The portkey doesn't activate until five," Draco said.
"Are you mad? I've been up since eight this morning and you want to go home at dawn? I'll make a portkey," Ron said, shaking his head.
"How? I thought the ministries kept that spell very secret so we can all pay for them," Draco said.
Ron nodded. "They do, but they also teach Aurors. If the Dutch police have a problem with it- well, they'll never know, will they? So let's say goodbye to your friends and leave. I'm knackered and you need sleep."
"You know, Weasley. You really are a pain in the arse." Draco sighed. "All right, let's go home."
***
Draco didn't know why he had agreed to this move. It was ridiculous. This house looked like some dystopian idea of what a Slytherin house was meant to be. He'd never seen these many snakes in a house, and after living with Nagini, they were not appreciated. It was even more absurd that three Gryffindors lived here.
'Lived' was a misnomer. The three were like ships in the night, vaguely meeting at mealtime. On the other hand, random people seemed to stop by. Ginny had been here twice in the five days he'd been here. Daphne and Pansy had been here everyday. He vaguely thought that they were there to babysit him, but dismissed it since they were so at ease in this house.
On the first day, there had been hugs. Too many for Draco's taste. Apparently Pansy and Daphne had really missed him, enough to behave un-Slytherin like in front of very amused Gryffindors. He was not as amused, but he knew better than to argue with not one, but two Slytherin women.
Today was the first day that it was quiet. He had gotten up around ten, gone to a room that they had set up for his brewing. Draco hadn't brewed in ages, but there wasn't much to do here and Pansy and Daphne had both asked for things that they'd rather not buy because 'Draco, you can do it better'. It was around noon when he realized that he hadn't eaten yet.
He stopped short when he reached the kitchen and saw Ron there. "You're home."
"And you sure sleep a lot," Ron said without turning, too busy with food.
"I wasn't sleeping; I was brewing. Pansy thinks I'm her personal potion maker." He went closer and looked over Ron's shoulder. "What are you making? And why aren't you asking the house-elves? I don't know about Kreacher, but Spuffy is a great cook."
"Because some things I like to do myself. Everyone will be here for dinner tonight and since I have the day off, I promised I'd cook. They love my cooking." Ron finally turned his head to look at Draco. "This can wait for a while. We can make lunch for us."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you expect me to do? Because I don't even know where the kitchen is."
"You're standing in the kitchen," Ron answered confused.
Draco chuckled. " I meant at the manor. I've never actually been to the kitchens."
Ron shook his head. "Why is everything in the plural? Kitchens, rooms, quarters, as if you have multiple ones. I know they are insanely big, but it's still one."
"I… do not know. I suppose because the bedrooms have anti-chambers to see people, so it's really different rooms in one," Draco opined.
"Regardless of name, you do know where this kitchen is and we're here, so we might as well get lunch." Ron nodded toward a cupboard. "That's the cooled cupboard. There should be some roast beef left over. We can make a sandwich."
Draco did as he was told, but there was nagging at the back of his mind. "This- Lunch, the potions, Pansy and Daphne being over all the time, it's all an attempt at- what exactly? Reform me? Turn me into a commoner?"
Ron laughed. "Malfoy- Draco, if I thought you'd ever be a commoner, I'd be insane. This is us doing things with you, because they are normal things that normal people do with their friends, and while I admit that Pansy and Daphne aren't normal, they have gotten used to us. It's not that nefarious."
Draco knew better. He didn't exactly think that was a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either. "But you are keeping an eye on me. Today you're home and suddenly they aren't here."
Ron shrugged. "It's a change for you. We want to make sure you're all right."
"I'm fine," Draco snapped.
"Sure you are, and you've been doing well without potions. I just want to make sure that it stays that way." Ron grabbed the bread and then went about to get all the utensils. "Are we going to the club tomorrow night?"
Draco nodded. "Tomorrow is Paris."
"Never been. I've never been anywhere unless you count a few cases and we were there at night, hiding in bushes. Not exactly sightseeing," Ron said.
"We can go early. Apparently my fiancé can make portkeys. We can go in the afternoon, see Paris, then have dinner. We can change at Blaise's. He has a house there." Draco said.
"He mentioned one in Amsterdam and one in Italy too. How many houses does he have?" Ron asked.
"Well, they are really his mother's and nine to last count. One here, seven inherited from dead husbands and the current one belonging to the new husband," Draco said, ticking them off on his fingers, before going back to making sandwiches, except he had no idea what he was doing.
"You seem confused," Ron said.
"How do you know what to put? And in what order?" Draco asked.
"It's a sandwich, not NEWT level transfiguration. You put what you like, that's why I brought out random things," Ron said, sitting next to Draco. "What do you like?"
"I don't know. The house-elves know what I like and serve it," Draco said, looking at the food in front of him as if it were ready to attack. "If this were NEWT level potion, we'd have a set list of ingredients."
"Life rarely works that way," Ron said with a chuckle. "Besides it's a matter of personal choice. How do you know when you like a man?"
"I suck his cock," Draco answered with a grin.
"Yes, but before you get to that point, there's something about that person that you like. This is the same. Which ingredients do you like?" Ron asked. "You can go traditional, cheese and gravy or something more American with tomatoes and lettuce."
"That sounds terrible. How do you even know about what Americans like?" Draco asked with a frown.
"It's a long story about films and things to do with Muggles. Do you still want me to explain?" Ron asked as he started to make his own sandwich.
Draco shook his head. He started this new task of making food for himself, still not convinced that there shouldn't be a list. He liked lists and directions. "How did you know you liked men? Did you suck cock, too?"
Ron chuckled. "It was a little more complicated than that. After Hermione and I broke up, I left the house and didn't want to be around people I knew. I ended up in this Muggle bar. I drank, a man approached me. I had no idea that it was a gay bar. It took a long while before I clued in," he admitted. "Anyway, nothing happened, I came home and that was that for a while. Then I started going there after a hard case, or when I didn't want to be near wizards. I met different people, talked. It took months before I realized that I liked some of those men. Eventually, it led to the weirdest sex ever, but it was enough to tell me I like men as well as women."
Draco's eyebrow raised into a perfect arch. "Weirdest? What kind of kinks are you into, Weasley?"
"Nothing of the sort. Muggles put a balloon on their cock. It's… weird. I still don't know what it does or why they do it. I'm not about to ask Harry or Hermione," he said, shivering.
"Muggles are weird," Draco said, shaking his head.
"They are. Do you see around here? Hair that looks like they are wearing spikes on their heads. Piercings on their faces. Balloons on their cocks. Don't get me wrong, I don't think we should kill them-"
"I don't think we should kill them either," Draco said quietly. "I don't want to kill anyone."
"Good to know, because I'd hate to arrest you," Ron said with a snort.
"I never wanted to kill anyone. Expel Potter? Sure. Kill someone? Not really," Draco admitted.
"I know," Ron admitted. "I would have found a way out if I really thought you were a murderous evil wizard. You were an annoying brat, who liked to threaten people, without even understanding the repercussions, but I hope you grew out of it."
Draco tilted his head in question. "But you think I changed?"
"It's hard to think that when Greyback brought us to the manor that you didn't recognise us. Maybe Harry, because of the hex, but there's no way you suddenly forgot who we were, and Luna said that you tried to help. I've tried to think of selfish reasons why you'd do it and-" He shrugged. "Anyway, let me help you with that sandwich or we'll never get back to cooking. And you are helping me. Considering it a bonding experience." He took his wand out. "Here, melt the cheese on top, a little gravy and you should be good to go."
Draco took a bite and smiled. "This is good. Thanks." They ate in friendly silence and for a while, Draco could convince himself that this wouldn't be so terrible and when that night he ended up in Ron's bed, being pounded into the mattress, things looked really good.
***
Ron groaned when Spuffy woke him up. "What is it?"
"Mister Zabini firecalled. Master Draco is very sick, he might die," the house-elf said.
"Shit." Ron got up and got dressed as quickly as he could. "What time is it?"
"Four in the morning," the house-elf answered.
"Great, two hours of sleep." He went and picked up a few things he might need and then ran down the stars. "Where are we going?"
"Spiffy will take Master Ron." The house-elf grabbed Ron's hand and then the pull of Apparition became obvious.
Ron found himself in a strange drawing room. Draco was unconscious on the couch with his head on Blaise's lap. Draco's breath was shallow, his chest barely moving. "What the hell is going on?"
"We were at the club. There was some new potion being handed around. People started collapsing. Draco didn't feel well and I took him here before the French patrol could arrive," Blaise said. "What should we do?"
Ron reached into his pocket. "He's not going to like this. Open his mouth- I said, open his bloody mouth." The snapping tone of his order made Blaise complain and he put a bezoar down Draco's throat. "What goes around, comes around," he murmured.
"What's that? Oh, I remember. Slughorn used it to save your life," Blaise said. "Do you always carry one around?"
"He did. Aurors have them as standard part of their supplies. When Spuffy said that Draco was dying- Well, I just grabbed things that I thought might help." He looked down as Draco's breathing became more regular.
A few moments later, Draco opened his eyes. "What's happening? What are you doing here?"
"You almost died," Ron said, his anger filling his voice and gradually becoming more obvious with each word. Until now he had to stay calm to make sure that Draco was all right, but now the Weasley temper was surfacing. "How stupid can you be? Taking something from a complete stranger? Let's not even discuss the fact that you couldn't stay home one bloody night."
"He's fine and-"
"Don't you dare finish that! If I hadn't been here, then what? If he hadn't lived long enough to get help, then what? You two are such idiots. You're both rich, good looking, you could do anything, but instead you spend your days doing potions and your nights fucking random people." Ron's voice got steadily louder. "We're bored. Boo hoo. People have a lot worse problems and you don't see them almost killing themselves. You both need to grow the fuck up and you-" Ron turned his attention to Blaise. "You'd better find yourself someone that can keep you entertained or maybe keep you alive, because Draco is done with this shit." He raised a finger in Draco's direction. "Don't even say a word. We're leaving and going to see a Healer, then we're going to sleep, because I've only slept two hours and I'm likely to say something I'll regret and then we fucking talk."
"We can go home. I feel fine now and I don't want to go to St. Mungo's," Draco said.
"I never said we're going to the hospital. I have a friend who's a Healer. Padma… Patil, twin, Ravenclaw, very beautiful," Ron said.
Draco smiled, amused. "I know who she is. You went to the Yule Ball with her."
Ron shook his head. "How the fuck do you remember? Actually don't tell me. Harry probably remembers what you did. You two were psychos. Anyway, give me something that isn't valuable and you won't miss," he told Blaise who handed him an ashtray with a frown.
"He'll make a portkey. Perks of being an auror," Draco explained as he sat up. "Fuck, my head hurts."
"And this is why we're seeing Padma." Ron moved to a far corner and turned his back on them while casting the spell, before returning to the couch. "Time to go."
They arrived at Padma’s a few moments later. This was hardly the first time that Ron had showed up in the middle of the night. It had begun two months after she started her training. Neville had insisted that he trusted her more than any healer since she had been their unofficial mediwitch during their seventh year. Padma had taken care of their wounds without blinking. The Daily Prophet had lost a scoop and since then, she got three patients who showed up at all hours.
This time, it was a different patient, but she checked Draco over and said that he was fine, except for malnutrition and being underweight. She also said no more unknown potions, but Ron didn't need a healer for that recommendation. Finally, they were back at Grimmauld Place and in Ron's bed, since he had insisted that Draco shouldn't sleep alone.
"I'm sorry," Draco murmured. "I didn't mean to keep you awake."
Ron had wanted to do this in the morning, really he did, but he couldn't keep quiet. "What the hell went through your head. One day, one bloody day I don't come home and you leave. Can't you survive a day without attention?"
"I- that wasn't. Daphne couldn't come, Pansy left early. You three weren't home."
"Yes, there was an emergency at work, big case and most of the DMLE, including us three, was stuck there. What else did you think happened? We refused to come home?" Ron asked.
"I didn't think at all. You weren't here. I got bored, firecalled Blaise and he asked me to go out with him. I figured what was the harm? I've been doing good, but then we were there and the first potion, then the second and I lost control." Draco turned to his side, looking at Ron. "You didn't sign up for this. Mother didn't know what she was doing."
Ron snorted. "Your mother knew exactly what she was doing. I can't even blame her. I'm still pissed, but I can understand why she did it. The problem is that she wants me to be your husband and the one who makes sure you stay clean, but I can't do that, Draco. You have to find the reason to stay clean inside you, because I can't be with you 24/7."
"I've been thinking about it." Draco bit his lip. "There is something we can do to get out of this without the curse activating."
"That's not what I said," Ron pointed out.
"I know, but you're too much of a Gryffindor to have a fake marriage and I've done a lot of shitty things in my life, but I don't want to force you into this. My life is fucked up enough and I'm not dragging into it as well. We need to get married and I'll agree to having a real marriage, monogamy and all of that, but also when the curse was cast, there were no divorce laws. We can wait a suitable amount of time, before ending the marriage. You'd be off the hook and hopefully I'll be able to stay clean without you."
Ron could hear the hesitancy in Draco's voice, but the fact that he was thinking of doing the right thing made Ron feel better about this, and he had to admit that it wasn't very different from his own plan. The main difference was that his plan meant to 'fix' Draco in two months, while Draco's plan lasted another thirteen months. He had to admit that it was a lot more realistic and if Draco needed a little more time, he would give him that.
"All right, but let's agree that we won't just divorce. We'll reevaluate and then we'll go from there, okay?" Ron asked. "We also need a plan to ensure that you stay clean. Definitely no more clubbing with Blaise. Hell, he shouldn't be clubbing."
"Right now, I'm okay with that, but I almost died. Then something happens and I forget," Draco admitted.
"I know, but this is why we'll figure out a plan," Ron said. "You just have to want to."
Draco nodded, before grinning. "At least we know the sex will be great."
"Oh shut up, because you're not getting me to fuck you. I'm too tired to get it up," Ron said, chuckling.
"Fine, we can sleep until noon and then we have sex," Draco answered.
"That sounds like a great compromise." Ron grinned. They were on a roll, reaching compromise after compromise. Hopefully, they'd be able to do the same during their marriage.
***
A year later
"Did you finish packing?" Ron asked as he ran up the stairs.
"Almost done. Spuffy has taken all the boxes to the Manor already." Draco put the last of his things into his trunk and turned around to smile at Ron. "All ready to go."
Ron closed the gap between them and put his arms around Draco. "Are you sure about this?"
Draco nodded without hesitation. "Hermione moved in with Daphne."
"And the press is still looking for her secret boyfriend," Ron said, chuckling.
"Blaise is dating your sister. Harry proposed to Pansy and seriously, do you think living here now that she's moving in would be a good idea?" He shook his head. "It's time I stand up on my own… and we have our own house. I know Harry doesn't care if we live here, but it's his house."
"And that manor belongs to your father," Ron pointed out.
Draco shook his head. "The Manor belongs to the Malfoys. This is why there are smaller apartments within the house. Multiple generations can live there at the same time. It's mine as much as his. I've already told Mother that we'll need a different apartment, something bigger, with a separate bedroom, so we can receive friends there, without having to use the common rooms."
Ron shook his head. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to having multiple rooms that function as a sitting room: drawing room, morning room, conservatory, music room. There are a lot of bloody rooms for a family of three."
"Of four now. Are you sure about this? We said a year. You can get out of this if you want," Draco said with a grin.
"You're such a dick. You know I'm not going anywhere." Ron pressed his lips against Draco's, smiling. "I might have fallen in love with a Malfoy."
"Oh the heresy," Draco said, laughing. "At least I've fallen in love with a Weasley, so it's not too terrible for you." He looked around the room and then back at Ron. "Ready to go, then?"
Ron nodded. "Let's go home."
Rating: PG
Prompt: Self-Prompt
Word Count: 9300
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: When Ron is forced to marry Draco, he tries to find a way out. Will he manage? Will he want to?
Notes: After years of writing, I found this fic hard to write, but I hope it came out all right. Enjoy!
Ron entered the Burrow and immediately worried. His parents were sitting at the dinner table with big mugs of tea in front of them and large plates filled with biscuits and cakes. He could smell pie from the kitchen. The amount of baked goods was more worrisome than the look on his parents' faces, and that wasn't promising either.
"Is everything all right?" he said as he sat down.
His mother sighed, before looking at his father. "I suppose."
"No, it's not all right," Arthur hissed with barely contained anger. "It's nonsense, that's what it is."
Molly put a hand on Arthur's arm and then looked at Ron. "We had a visit from Narcissa Malfoy today."
"What in bloody hell does she want? Isn't it enough that Harry made sure that the entire family is walking around like nothing happened?" Ron asked. "If they are bothering you, I can get Patrol. It could be their New Year's Eve present. Or a belated Christmas present."
"No. You can't get anyone involved. It'd be so much worse." Molly sighed. "There's really not a good way to say this."
"You haven't said anything." Ron frowned. "Mom, Dad, what is it?"
"It's the bloody family curse," Arthur said. "It's… very old, and just one of the many reasons I despise Lucius Malfoy. Once upon a time, there was a minor war between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. We're talking in the sixteenth century or something. No one knows for sure. There was hexing and political drama. The Ministry gave the two families a choice: reach an agreement or go to Azkaban."
"They reached an agreement," Molly added.
"The Malfoy heir of the time ended up marrying one of the Weasley girls. However, the Ministry wanted something more… long term. They added a clause that would give one party the right to ask for a marriage at any time in the future," Arthur explained.
"That's why Narcissa was here," Molly said.
"They want Malfoy to marry Ginny? But she's off dating… who's she dating again?" Ron asked, because he couldn't keep track of who Ginny was dating at any given time. It was much easier when she was with Harry, but that had ended a year ago.
"Well-" Molly exchanged another look with Arthur. "Apparently they are interested in … you!"
Ron looked at his mother and then laughed. "Good one, Mum. If George put you up to this-"
"It's not a joke," Arthur said with a grave voice. "She was really here. To arrange a wedding between you and her son."
"Please, Ron, you need to listen to what your father is saying," Molly added.
Ron listened. He listened and drank. None of that tea his mother was offering, but enough firewhiskey that made the entire night a fuzzy memory when he passed out with his clothes on in his old room. In the morning, his mother handed him a potion and tea, in that order. The potion made the hangover go away, but unfortunately it returned the memories of the night before.
"This is real," he said.
His mother looked at him lovingly. "I'm sorry, Ron. If there was anything we could do-"
Ron put the cup on the nightstand. "I've got to go, Mum." He kissed her cheek, put his shoes on and used the Floo to reach Grimmauld Place.
"Ron, what happened to you last night? We were waiting for you," Hermione greeted him as he stepped into the drawing room.
"It was fine," Harry said with a smile. "We could skip a night of research on magic and its genetic elements. What kept you away? You look like shit. You look better after stakeouts."
Ron slumped on the couch. "I had a talk with my parents." He started telling the story, or as much as he knew, in a very colourful way.
"How is this legal?" Harry said.
"It used to be very common," Hermione said. "The Ministry eventually banned the use of such curses in 1843. I know because Daphne was talking about a family curse when I went back to Hogwarts and I started looking into it."
"Aren't you sorry we skipped more research?" Ron said with a tiny smile.
Harry rolled his eyes. "So what are the actual consequences? And can we… I don't know, arrest them if the curses are banned?"
"No," Hermione said. "That's the problem with the ban. Unless someone tries to activate the curse immediately, it might take decades if not centuries to be activated, like in this case. The people who cast the curse would be long dead, making the ban more symbolic than anything else, because you can't arrest Lucius Malfoy for something that his ancestors did."
"All right, so can we break it?" Harry said, looking at Hermione with a hopeful expression. "You can find anything."
"Oh Harry, I wish I could. I really did look. Astoria is sick and she could die at any time. Daphne doesn't like to talk about it, which is why I never mentioned it before, but it's not a secret, and I tried to find a way to break the curse, but there's really no way," Hermione said with a sigh. "That's really the terrible thing about this curse. Say that Ron turns Malfoy down, nothing might happen to him, but his parents, his siblings or any of their descendants could be affected."
"I won't let them die because of me," Ron said. "Victoire is so young. It can affect an unborn child. It could be one of their children. This curse goes on forever, Harry. Two hundred years from now, a great-grandchild might die because I said no. I can't do that."
"You need to speak to Malfoy," Harry said, stubbornly. "It's the one solution that will solve everything. If he calls it off, his mother would go along. Narcissa would do anything for him."
Ron sat up. "That's… not a bad idea."
Harry huffed. "You sound surprised."
"Usually Hermione or Neville are the one with the good ideas. We're the ones doing what they say," Ron admitted with a shrug. They had relied one too many times on Neville when the three of them joined the Auror division. Three eighteen year olds, with no NEWTs, no training, sent out there to arrest Death Eaters. If it hadn't been for Neville's good sense, they'd have probably been hurt a lot more.
"On occasion, I have brilliant ideas," Harry said.
"And they usually involve Malfoy," Hermione said with a chuckle.
"Oh, his ideas about Malfoy are usually terrible," Ron said, "But since I have nothing to lose. I'll go after lunch. I skipped breakfast and now I'm starved."
"Losing your appetite never lasts long," Hermione said, laughing. "Come on, let's have brunch and then you can talk to Malfoy."
Why had he listened to Harry? He should have known better. For Harry, things were always black and white when it came to Malfoy. Some might say the same about Ron, but they'd be wrong. Things were always black as far as Ron was concerned. The little git had been terrible from day one on the Hogwarts Express and had continued to be horrible through the years. Sure, he might have lied to Bellatrix and saved their lives, but Ron was sure that there was some ulterior motive behind that and it had nothing to do with saving their lives.
Really, he should have stayed at Grimmauld Place. A bottle of firewhiskey or ten would have helped. Being drunk for the rest of his life seemed like a decent plan if his future meant dealing with the Malfoys on a daily basis. It was certainly more pleasant than what he was currently doing, walking up to Malfoy Manor and knocking on the door.
Ron hadn't been back since the trials. Back then, he had gotten a sadistic pleasure at every visit, because the Malfoys were terrified of the Aurors and he was the one with all the power. If it hadn't been for Harry's good heart, they'd be rotting in Azkaban. Yes, Ron had told Harry over breakfast that it was his bloody fault that he had to marry Malfoy. It wouldn't have happened if he'd been stuck in prison.
Hermione had gone really quiet and really cold at that, but it was true!
Ron had not apologised and he was currently not happy with either of his two best-friends. They should be finding a way to get Malfoy arrested, not defending the ferret. Why weren't they on his side? Still angry, he ignored the house-elf that opened the door and waltzed inside as he owned the place. "Where's Malfoy?"
"Master-"
"No, not that Malfoy. The son, Draco," he said, already climbing the stairs, knowing that the family quarters would be in the two upper floors. "Show me his room." The house-elf Apparated to the first landing and led Ron through the stairs and hallways until he was in front of Draco's bedroom. The house-elf was panicking, but Ron simply opened the door and walked in. "You have to tell your parents that you don't want to marry me."
He stopped when he realised that the room was pitch black, heavy curtains (and possibly some spells) blocking the midday sun from coming in. "Lumos." He took a good look around the room. His first thought was 'bloody hell, he has a sitting room in his bedroom'. His second thought was- "Why are you still in bed?"
Draco sighed. "If you're here to arrest me, come back later."
"As much as I'd enjoy arresting you, Harry says I can't. Also we're not planning our wedding, because we're not getting married," Ron said.
"What are you on about?" Draco got out of bed, uncaring of the fact that he was naked. He summoned a robe and put in on. "I'm too hungover for your dramatics, so cut the bullshit."
"Me? What am I saying? Your mother is the one showing up at my parents’ house, using some old curse to force me to marry you and you have the balls to be upset? I'm not Harry. I'm not putting up with your shit, Malfoy. Get your mother to back down," Ron said.
"How am I supposed to do that when I have no fucking clue what you're talking about?" He rubbed his head. "Just a moment." He went to his nightstand and uncorked a vial. He swallowed it in one go and then turned to Ron. "Explain."
For the second time in a few hours, Ron went through the story. He was getting good at this, able to concentrate on the important details and present everything in a clear manner, instead of veering off into curse-filled tangents. When he finished, he glared at Draco. "How can you not know this?"
"Mother has been… concerned," Draco said. "She doesn't like the life I'm leading and apparently she thinks that the way to solve it is by marrying us off, which won't happen. I'll speak to them and I'll fix it. You can go … I have no idea where you live, and I don't care, but I'll owl you when it's done. Go away and we never have to see each other again."
Ron felt a little deflated. Maybe, Harry had been right. Maybe, this could be fixed. Maybe he should just go home and forget that the past twenty-four hours had happened.
Harry was wrong. He should have known when he opened the door and saw Narcissa Malfoy standing in front of his door. "No one knows where I live."
Narcissa gave him a small smile. "Mr. Potter, I would give you a list of all the people who know where you live, but it would be too long. Let's assume that the ones who could be a danger to you are in Azkaban and my family wouldn't hurt you. I was surprised to learn that you removed the Fidelius."
"That and some other stuff. Hard to get deliveries from the Muggle world," Harry answered. "Never mind that, what can I do for you, Mrs. Malfoy?"
"I'm actually here to see Mr. Weasley. I was told that he lives with you," she said.
"Ah, yes, come on in." Harry stepped aside and let her in. He closed the door before walking to the staircase. "Follow me. You can wait in the drawing room. We just got back from work and he was taking a shower. I'll see if he's done. You know where it is, right?"
Narcissa nodded. "Thank you." She made her way to the drawing room. Once there, she took a long look around the room, cataloguing the differences from the last time she'd been here.
"Draco wasn't even born the last time I was here," she said when she heard Ron enter the room. She turned to face him. "Mr. Weasley, please forgive the intrusion, but I've come to realise that contacting your parents instead of you was a mistake. May we speak?"
Ron snorted. "How much did Malfoy complain?" He knew that it wasn't the polite answer, but he wasn't in the mood for politeness. "I don't want to talk to you, or anyone in your family, but I don't think I have a choice, so let's talk." He gestured to the couch, while he took a seat in what he considered Hermione's arm chair.
There was a pop and tea and biscuits appeared. That was most certainly the polite thing to do, but Ron would have never thought of it. He wanted her out as quickly as possible and he discouraged any idea that this would be a long meeting by ignoring the tray, even though the biscuits smelled like heaven. "Can we avoid this marriage?"
Narcissa sighed. "We can't. Please, let me explain. I know this will make me very unpopular with a lot of people. My husband and my son aren't too thrilled with me at the moment, either, but I have no choice. I would do anything for Draco and this marriage… it might just be the only way to keep him alive."
Ron frowned. "Is anyone threatening him? We can solve that without a marriage," he reassured her.
"No, nothing of the sort. Unless you count the random threats and insults that we've been getting since the trials," she said, dismissing the threat with a wave of her hand. "Draco- he's lost. After the trial, he had no one. Your side didn't exactly forgive and forget, not that I expected them too. But our friends were also less than pleased with our decision to cooperate. A great many people went to jail based on our testimony, including people who might not have faced any consequences without our involvement. Draco lost a lot of friends."
"So did we, but our friends died. My brother died," Ron said. "If this is some pity party, I'm not interested."
Narcissa shook her head. "I would never." Her tone was rather affronted at the idea, but Ron didn't remind her that they had done just that with Harry prior to the hearing. "I'm explaining why I'm pushing for this wedding. With no other friends, Draco has become close to Blaise and they have been traipsing around Europe for the past four years. They are twenty-three and they spend their nights in clubs, taking all sorts of potions. He sleeps all day. I'm afraid that if he keeps going like this, he will die. He needs something, he needs responsibilities and he needs someone who will argue with him and make him… feel again."
Ron crossed his arms, studying her like he would a chess board. "Why do I have a feeling that I'm getting the very shortened version?"
"Because you know that I wouldn't be here, asking for a marriage just because he's sad," she said, snapping, before she took a deep breath. "I apologise. This isn't easy for me either. I would have loved for my son to find happiness and love, but I doubt that he'll find either where he spends his nights. I can't say that marrying a Weasley was the height of my inspiration and I'm sure you feel the same about Draco, but you can do this. You can save my son. As you can see, talking to Draco won't make me change my mind, because no matter how much I want to make him happy, I want to keep him alive more."
"Why me? Why not one of my brothers? Or Ginny?" Ron had been thinking about that one since the hangover had gone away.
"My son prefers men, even though he has had the occasional dally with a woman. I suppose he always thought that he'd get married to a woman, but that's not what he prefers, and I do want him to be happy. As for your brothers-" She smiled. "I saw the fire in Draco when he talked about you and Potter. I could have tried to ask him, but after some inquiries I found out that he's quite serious with Pansy and he doesn't seem to like men. You've dated men after your breakup with Ms. Granger. And before you accuse me of stalking, I simply read it in the Daily Prophet. Rita is rather obsessed with the three of you."
"One of these days, I'll hex that old bat," Ron murmured. "I don't know what you expect me to do after we get married. It's not like he has to listen to me."
Narcissa shrugged. "I am hoping that just having you around will help. A good influence from someone who was raised to believe in family, and if this helps our families to reunite, then even better."
"You're betting a lot on this marriage, and risking a lot of unhappiness. Hell, I'm already unhappy," Ron blurted out.
"So is Draco. I won't insult you by pretending that your happiness was ever my first concern, but I do hope that you and Draco can be happy. I'll do anything I can to make that happen. We can set up a full wing at the Manor for you. You'll have free run of the house and the house-elves will help you with anything you need, and we can-"
"No." Ron shook his head. "That's not happening. I'm not moving into that house. He'll move in here. He'll learn to do the things we do. He'll learn to deal with other people. You want him to have something in life? Well, lying all day in the dark, knowing that other people will take care of things isn't the way to go."
"But… Malfoys live at the manor," she said, sounding confused at the idea that Draco could live anywhere else.
"But he won't. Maybe one day, but at the start, we won't. I refuse to live there where he thinks he's in charge and I'm a guest. You want this marriage to happen, then we do things my way." Ron had very little control over this marriage, but he would have control about everything around it. Well, maybe not the reception. He really didn't care about that part. "Or we can call it off."
Narcissa seemed hesitant, but finally nodded. "You might be right about the house. Still, I can send a house-elf with Draco if that's acceptable."
Ron thought for a moment. He hated Kreacher and he'd probably hate the new house-elf, but they were useful, no matter what Hermione said, and Malfoy would probably be useless with any common cleaning spell. "That's fine. So since you're the one doing the planning, when are we getting married?"
"I was hoping for a short engagement. No reason to do a long one, like they do now. Mother would have been horrified. Never more than three months was the rule, did you know that?" Narcissa asked.
"Can't say that I ever cared to learn about etiquette in a past century. Or nowadays," Ron said with a snort.
"This wasn't that long ago," Narcissa said. "Anyway, how about… on your birthday? That's two months from now, yes? It gives us a reason why that date and far enough from the anniversary of the Battle. We wouldn't want that."
Ron pinched his nose. "Mrs. Malfoy, I don't want this marriage. I'll do anything I can to get out of it."
"I don't want this marriage either, Mr. Weasley, but I have no choice. I need to save Draco." She stood up. "Anyway, I can get everything ready for the wedding and inform your mother, unless you want to be kept informed."
"No, it's fine. You can run things by Mom. I will continue to find reasons why this shouldn't happen," Ron warned her.
"I would expect nothing else, and now I'll see myself out." She stopped at the door. "And you may call me 'Narcissa'." With that, she was gone.
"You're being mature and very accepting," Hermione had said. She had been wrong. Ron wasn't being accepting. He planned to find a way around this marriage. Getting drunk hadn't helped. Getting angry had been useless. Therefore, he was strategizing. In fact, he had come up with a brilliant plan.
Narcissa wanted this marriage, because she was worried about Draco and that meant that Ron simply had to fix Malfoy in the next two months. He had no time to waste, so bright and early on Saturday morning, he went to Malfoy Manor. Once again, he scared a house-elf, but this time he knew where he was going and went straight to Draco's room.
"Wake up," he said, casting a spell to open all the curtains. "It's a beautiful and very cold January day and we have a wedding to plan."
Draco grunted from under the blankets, but gave no other sign of being awake. Ron went to the bed and pulled the blankets. "Wake up, before I hex you."
Draco blinked. "What- is this- are you real?"
Ron huffed. "Do you always dream of me?"
"More like a nightmare and only recently." Draco rubbed his eyes. "What the hell, Weasley? What time is it?"
"It's nine in the morning, the third of January, 2004. You know, in case you're still too drunk to know," Ron said.
He shook his head. "Don't drink, makes me sick. I prefer… other ways to get happy," he said with a smile. "The continent is a lot more fun than Britain, did you know that?"
"You're still high, aren't you?" Ron shook his head. "And that's nonsense. Try living with my brothers. Fred and George could always get you more fucked up than anything in the rest of Europe or the world." Now, it was only George and he was a lot more careful, and while that was for the best, Ron would have done anything to have Fred back, even be subjected to their experimental potions. "Also you don't look like you had fun. In fact, you look like death warmed you over. When's the last time you ate?" Had he just said that? He was channeling his mother, for Merlin's sake.
"You came here this early on a Saturday to tell me that? Are you mad, Weasley?" Draco asked, not moving from his bed.
"I came here because we have less than two months to get married. Your mother was nice enough to wait until after Boxing Day to tell me how much my life was screwed, but that means we have little time, and if we're doing this, we're doing it properly and that means that we need to work together." At least long enough that he could make Draco act like a normal person and then they could call the wedding off. It was an amazing plan!
"Can we do this properly after dinner?" Draco grabbed the blankets and tried to pull them back over his head. "Weasley, stop annoying me."
"No, you're getting dressed and we're having brunch. I've already told your house-elf. So get up, because we're doing this." Ron waited, but when Draco turned to the other side, trying to hide from the light, he took out his wand and cast a stinging jinx. He smiled at the scream. "Right, I can keep doing this all day long."
Draco sat up, glaring. "How dare-"
"Don't even start with me. It's a simple stinging jinx and you've done much worse, so get up, put some clothes on and let's eat. We can figure out how we'll spend the next two months with food in front of us." Ron mentally named himself the winner of this little encounter when Draco finally got up.
By evening, Ron could see why Narcissa was worried. Draco barely ate all day. He needed potions to wake up, potions to get energy, potions to come down from the highs, potions to regain that up. It was an endless stream of vials coupled with the most irregular lifestyle. Apparently the house-elves were so shocked that he was eating meals at mealtime that they let it slip. Ron's plan had suddenly become a lot harder than he thought, but at the same time, more important. He didn't want to get married and still didn't like Draco, but he wouldn't let the man die from the sheer number of potions.
"Are you listening to me?" Draco asked.
Ron blinked. "That many potions can't be good for you."
Draco looked at the vial and shrugged. "They aren't addictive," he said with a shrug.
"They aren't physically addictive. That doesn't mean that you can live without them, and it doesn't answer whether they are safe for you," Ron pointed out.
"Right, let's assume that I don't care, and you answer the question you didn't hear. How soon are you leaving? I have a portkey set up in an hour and I need to get ready," Draco said.
Ron snorted. He had no intention of leaving and wanted to meet these friends of Draco. "I'm not going anywhere. Well, I am. I'm going to Amsterdam with you. You couldn't possibly go there without your fiancé, now, could you?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "You do understand that I want this marriage as much as you, right? We have to go through the charade, because they are making us do it, but we don't actually have to be married. You can have your life, I can have mine."
Ron shook his head. "Oh no, your mother has been talking about conditions and where we live, and I'm not going to be in a marriage just so we can sleep with other people. If we do this, we really do this. So no more fucking around for either of us."
"Are you mad? We don't even like each other," Draco said.
"Trust me, I know! This is why we're spending time together and why I'm coming with you to bloody Amsterdam," Ron answered. "And then we spend time together on Sunday, and after work during the week."
"You're worse than Potter. At least he was obsessed from a distance." Draco stared at Ron for a moment. "I don't have time to argue with you, but you can't come dressed like that. Let's find something in my closet. Spuffy can tailor it for you. It won't be as good as a tailor, but it'll do."
"You know I don't care about the clothes," Ron said.
Draco snorted. "I can tell, but I do, which is why I'm dressing you." He called the house-elf and picked a pair of trousers and a shirt for Ron to try on. "There, a few modifications and it'll be fine."
Ron frowned. "I thought this would take longer. When my mother goes shopping, it takes forever to pick each thing." He took a long look at his image while the house-elf made the modification. "Blimey, I look better than Bill."
"Which one is that? The curse breaker or the dragon tamer? And I have great taste, know exactly what looks good on people and don't waste time unless I'm picking for myself," Draco answered while he went back to his closet to pick his own clothes.
"Bill is the curse breaker, my oldest brother, and you should remember that we have that portkey in less than an hour," Ron teased, chuckling when Draco flipped him two fingers.
Draco took his sweet time and was ready about two minutes before the portkey went off. They ended up outside some swanky club in Amsterdam. Inside, it was crowded and dark. There were couches lined around the walls. Each small area was enclosed in a giant bubble that kept the volume down, allowing people to talk without having to scream.
They found Draco's friends pretty quickly. Ron didn't know anyone other than Blaise, but he quickly surmised that it didn't matter, because they talked about very little of substance, since they were already high. The music, the inane conversation and the giggling gave him a headache, but Ron sat next to Draco, arm around his shoulder, trying to distract him from the potions.
"You can take some if you want," Flynn said, about an hour after they had arrived and Ron had refused plenty of potions. Flynn was from Germany and seemed to care about nothing but drug and sex.
"Weasley is an Auror," Blaise answered.
Ron rolled his eyes at the sudden quiet. "And that means I deal in the Dark Arts. As long as you aren't using any dark potions, you can take whatever you want. It's Patrol's problem, not mine. Try to take over the world, and then it becomes my problem."
"Saving the world again," Draco said, grinning, even though it wasn't funny.
"So why are you here?" Nino, another friend, asked.
Ron stared at Draco, not sure what to say, but the blond surprised him by kissing him. When Draco pulled back he shrugged, which Ron took as silent permission to tell the truth. "We're getting married," he said knowing that the engagement would be announced in the Daily Prophet in a day or two. "I know, it's sudden, but there's no need for you to be speechless."
Blaise started to laugh. "Merlin, this is great. I can't wait to see people's faces."
"It's not that funny," Draco murmured.
Ron snorted. "It's a bit funny."
"You're an idiot." Draco shook his head, but relaxed against Ron.
"Does this mean that you're off the market?" Flynn asked.
"I can do-"
Ron cut Draco off. "That's exactly what it means and this- well, this is nice, but we can't be here late every night, since I have to be in early in the morning."
Draco glared at Ron as he hissed out. "I don't remember agreeing to this."
"I'm surprised you remember anything," Ron snapped out.
"Fuck you, Weasley." He went to grab one of the vials that they had sitting in the small table in front of them.
Ron grabbed Draco's wrist and glared at him. "You've had enough."
"I haven't had nearly enough," Draco answered.
"If you'll excuse us." Ron wasn't really asking. He got up and dragged Draco with him, walking through the dark club until he could find a spot where they could stand alone. He cast a privacy spell that muted the music blasting on the dance floor, although the spell was not as powerful as the one the club had inside the bubbles. "Now you listen to me. I'm going through this marriage like your mother wants, but I'm not having you fucking around every night. I understand that these potions turn your brain into mush, but we already went through this a few hours ago."
"I thought you were joking. Why the hell do you care? It's not like we're in love. You don't even fucking like me," Draco pointed out.
"True, but a) I believe in marriage and b) more importantly, I have a job that makes me go after Dark Wizards. Use your bloody brains, Malfoy. You're smart, what do you think happens when people find out that we're married? How easily do you think they can get to me, by going through you? Do you really want that?" Ron asked. "No, but you didn't think about that, because you're so high that you'd reach the ceiling in the Great Hall without a broom." He sighed. "I don't want you hurt."
"I can't stay at the manor doing nothing, day in or day out. That will kill me for sure, while your Dark Wizards are just a possibility," Draco answered.
Ron wanted to argue that it wasn't true, but a day with Draco had shown him that it might just be true. "All right, so… we solve that problem instead of putting you at risk. We said you'd move in with me when we get married. Move in now."
"How's that going to help?" Draco asked.
"You can live in the manor for months without seeing your parents. At Grimmauld Place, there are Harry and Hermione. Ginny, Pansy and Daphne come over as well, my brothers-"
"Daphne? As in Greengrass? Why is she coming over?" Draco asked with a frown.
Ron grinned. "You'll find out soon enough, but she's dating Hermione. It's sort of funny, because they aren't hiding it, but the papers are so convinced that they will catch Hermione with her new boyfriend that they have dismissed all the pictures they have with Hermione and Daphne."
"That's… unexpected. Her parents will be less than pleased," he said.
"That's the understatement of the year," Ron said, but didn't elaborate. Daphne could tell Draco more if she wanted. "Going back to our problem, move in. You get your own room and it gives us a chance to get to know each other."
Draco raised his eyebrow. "We went to school together."
"The last time I was in that school was for that battle, after skipping a whole year and the battle was five years ago," Ron answered, trying not to lose his calm. "I hope we aren't the same kids we used to be." He had certainly grown up, although he couldn't say the same about Malfoy who apparently relied on potion to live.
"I don't know… I'm not used to being around people," Draco admitted.
"Yeah? Maybe that's the problem. Your parents let you vegetate. None of that stupidity at the house. You can contribute like the rest of us. It might not be the privileged life you like, but at least you'll do something." He'd have to talk to Harry and Hermione to figure out how Draco could contribute without Kreacher getting his pants in a twist.
"If it doesn't work out, I'm going back home."
Ron was sure that Draco meant to sound determined or threatening, but with all the potions, he sounded too relaxed to pull it off. "Fine, if it doesn't work, you go back to the manor until the wedding." He wasn't sure that the few weeks would make a difference, but again it wasn't the time to argue. "So can we go home now? Because you are tired and taking a potion to stay awake isn't the answer."
"Can't. The portkey doesn't activate until five," Draco said.
"Are you mad? I've been up since eight this morning and you want to go home at dawn? I'll make a portkey," Ron said, shaking his head.
"How? I thought the ministries kept that spell very secret so we can all pay for them," Draco said.
Ron nodded. "They do, but they also teach Aurors. If the Dutch police have a problem with it- well, they'll never know, will they? So let's say goodbye to your friends and leave. I'm knackered and you need sleep."
"You know, Weasley. You really are a pain in the arse." Draco sighed. "All right, let's go home."
***
Draco didn't know why he had agreed to this move. It was ridiculous. This house looked like some dystopian idea of what a Slytherin house was meant to be. He'd never seen these many snakes in a house, and after living with Nagini, they were not appreciated. It was even more absurd that three Gryffindors lived here.
'Lived' was a misnomer. The three were like ships in the night, vaguely meeting at mealtime. On the other hand, random people seemed to stop by. Ginny had been here twice in the five days he'd been here. Daphne and Pansy had been here everyday. He vaguely thought that they were there to babysit him, but dismissed it since they were so at ease in this house.
On the first day, there had been hugs. Too many for Draco's taste. Apparently Pansy and Daphne had really missed him, enough to behave un-Slytherin like in front of very amused Gryffindors. He was not as amused, but he knew better than to argue with not one, but two Slytherin women.
Today was the first day that it was quiet. He had gotten up around ten, gone to a room that they had set up for his brewing. Draco hadn't brewed in ages, but there wasn't much to do here and Pansy and Daphne had both asked for things that they'd rather not buy because 'Draco, you can do it better'. It was around noon when he realized that he hadn't eaten yet.
He stopped short when he reached the kitchen and saw Ron there. "You're home."
"And you sure sleep a lot," Ron said without turning, too busy with food.
"I wasn't sleeping; I was brewing. Pansy thinks I'm her personal potion maker." He went closer and looked over Ron's shoulder. "What are you making? And why aren't you asking the house-elves? I don't know about Kreacher, but Spuffy is a great cook."
"Because some things I like to do myself. Everyone will be here for dinner tonight and since I have the day off, I promised I'd cook. They love my cooking." Ron finally turned his head to look at Draco. "This can wait for a while. We can make lunch for us."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you expect me to do? Because I don't even know where the kitchen is."
"You're standing in the kitchen," Ron answered confused.
Draco chuckled. " I meant at the manor. I've never actually been to the kitchens."
Ron shook his head. "Why is everything in the plural? Kitchens, rooms, quarters, as if you have multiple ones. I know they are insanely big, but it's still one."
"I… do not know. I suppose because the bedrooms have anti-chambers to see people, so it's really different rooms in one," Draco opined.
"Regardless of name, you do know where this kitchen is and we're here, so we might as well get lunch." Ron nodded toward a cupboard. "That's the cooled cupboard. There should be some roast beef left over. We can make a sandwich."
Draco did as he was told, but there was nagging at the back of his mind. "This- Lunch, the potions, Pansy and Daphne being over all the time, it's all an attempt at- what exactly? Reform me? Turn me into a commoner?"
Ron laughed. "Malfoy- Draco, if I thought you'd ever be a commoner, I'd be insane. This is us doing things with you, because they are normal things that normal people do with their friends, and while I admit that Pansy and Daphne aren't normal, they have gotten used to us. It's not that nefarious."
Draco knew better. He didn't exactly think that was a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either. "But you are keeping an eye on me. Today you're home and suddenly they aren't here."
Ron shrugged. "It's a change for you. We want to make sure you're all right."
"I'm fine," Draco snapped.
"Sure you are, and you've been doing well without potions. I just want to make sure that it stays that way." Ron grabbed the bread and then went about to get all the utensils. "Are we going to the club tomorrow night?"
Draco nodded. "Tomorrow is Paris."
"Never been. I've never been anywhere unless you count a few cases and we were there at night, hiding in bushes. Not exactly sightseeing," Ron said.
"We can go early. Apparently my fiancé can make portkeys. We can go in the afternoon, see Paris, then have dinner. We can change at Blaise's. He has a house there." Draco said.
"He mentioned one in Amsterdam and one in Italy too. How many houses does he have?" Ron asked.
"Well, they are really his mother's and nine to last count. One here, seven inherited from dead husbands and the current one belonging to the new husband," Draco said, ticking them off on his fingers, before going back to making sandwiches, except he had no idea what he was doing.
"You seem confused," Ron said.
"How do you know what to put? And in what order?" Draco asked.
"It's a sandwich, not NEWT level transfiguration. You put what you like, that's why I brought out random things," Ron said, sitting next to Draco. "What do you like?"
"I don't know. The house-elves know what I like and serve it," Draco said, looking at the food in front of him as if it were ready to attack. "If this were NEWT level potion, we'd have a set list of ingredients."
"Life rarely works that way," Ron said with a chuckle. "Besides it's a matter of personal choice. How do you know when you like a man?"
"I suck his cock," Draco answered with a grin.
"Yes, but before you get to that point, there's something about that person that you like. This is the same. Which ingredients do you like?" Ron asked. "You can go traditional, cheese and gravy or something more American with tomatoes and lettuce."
"That sounds terrible. How do you even know about what Americans like?" Draco asked with a frown.
"It's a long story about films and things to do with Muggles. Do you still want me to explain?" Ron asked as he started to make his own sandwich.
Draco shook his head. He started this new task of making food for himself, still not convinced that there shouldn't be a list. He liked lists and directions. "How did you know you liked men? Did you suck cock, too?"
Ron chuckled. "It was a little more complicated than that. After Hermione and I broke up, I left the house and didn't want to be around people I knew. I ended up in this Muggle bar. I drank, a man approached me. I had no idea that it was a gay bar. It took a long while before I clued in," he admitted. "Anyway, nothing happened, I came home and that was that for a while. Then I started going there after a hard case, or when I didn't want to be near wizards. I met different people, talked. It took months before I realized that I liked some of those men. Eventually, it led to the weirdest sex ever, but it was enough to tell me I like men as well as women."
Draco's eyebrow raised into a perfect arch. "Weirdest? What kind of kinks are you into, Weasley?"
"Nothing of the sort. Muggles put a balloon on their cock. It's… weird. I still don't know what it does or why they do it. I'm not about to ask Harry or Hermione," he said, shivering.
"Muggles are weird," Draco said, shaking his head.
"They are. Do you see around here? Hair that looks like they are wearing spikes on their heads. Piercings on their faces. Balloons on their cocks. Don't get me wrong, I don't think we should kill them-"
"I don't think we should kill them either," Draco said quietly. "I don't want to kill anyone."
"Good to know, because I'd hate to arrest you," Ron said with a snort.
"I never wanted to kill anyone. Expel Potter? Sure. Kill someone? Not really," Draco admitted.
"I know," Ron admitted. "I would have found a way out if I really thought you were a murderous evil wizard. You were an annoying brat, who liked to threaten people, without even understanding the repercussions, but I hope you grew out of it."
Draco tilted his head in question. "But you think I changed?"
"It's hard to think that when Greyback brought us to the manor that you didn't recognise us. Maybe Harry, because of the hex, but there's no way you suddenly forgot who we were, and Luna said that you tried to help. I've tried to think of selfish reasons why you'd do it and-" He shrugged. "Anyway, let me help you with that sandwich or we'll never get back to cooking. And you are helping me. Considering it a bonding experience." He took his wand out. "Here, melt the cheese on top, a little gravy and you should be good to go."
Draco took a bite and smiled. "This is good. Thanks." They ate in friendly silence and for a while, Draco could convince himself that this wouldn't be so terrible and when that night he ended up in Ron's bed, being pounded into the mattress, things looked really good.
***
Ron groaned when Spuffy woke him up. "What is it?"
"Mister Zabini firecalled. Master Draco is very sick, he might die," the house-elf said.
"Shit." Ron got up and got dressed as quickly as he could. "What time is it?"
"Four in the morning," the house-elf answered.
"Great, two hours of sleep." He went and picked up a few things he might need and then ran down the stars. "Where are we going?"
"Spiffy will take Master Ron." The house-elf grabbed Ron's hand and then the pull of Apparition became obvious.
Ron found himself in a strange drawing room. Draco was unconscious on the couch with his head on Blaise's lap. Draco's breath was shallow, his chest barely moving. "What the hell is going on?"
"We were at the club. There was some new potion being handed around. People started collapsing. Draco didn't feel well and I took him here before the French patrol could arrive," Blaise said. "What should we do?"
Ron reached into his pocket. "He's not going to like this. Open his mouth- I said, open his bloody mouth." The snapping tone of his order made Blaise complain and he put a bezoar down Draco's throat. "What goes around, comes around," he murmured.
"What's that? Oh, I remember. Slughorn used it to save your life," Blaise said. "Do you always carry one around?"
"He did. Aurors have them as standard part of their supplies. When Spuffy said that Draco was dying- Well, I just grabbed things that I thought might help." He looked down as Draco's breathing became more regular.
A few moments later, Draco opened his eyes. "What's happening? What are you doing here?"
"You almost died," Ron said, his anger filling his voice and gradually becoming more obvious with each word. Until now he had to stay calm to make sure that Draco was all right, but now the Weasley temper was surfacing. "How stupid can you be? Taking something from a complete stranger? Let's not even discuss the fact that you couldn't stay home one bloody night."
"He's fine and-"
"Don't you dare finish that! If I hadn't been here, then what? If he hadn't lived long enough to get help, then what? You two are such idiots. You're both rich, good looking, you could do anything, but instead you spend your days doing potions and your nights fucking random people." Ron's voice got steadily louder. "We're bored. Boo hoo. People have a lot worse problems and you don't see them almost killing themselves. You both need to grow the fuck up and you-" Ron turned his attention to Blaise. "You'd better find yourself someone that can keep you entertained or maybe keep you alive, because Draco is done with this shit." He raised a finger in Draco's direction. "Don't even say a word. We're leaving and going to see a Healer, then we're going to sleep, because I've only slept two hours and I'm likely to say something I'll regret and then we fucking talk."
"We can go home. I feel fine now and I don't want to go to St. Mungo's," Draco said.
"I never said we're going to the hospital. I have a friend who's a Healer. Padma… Patil, twin, Ravenclaw, very beautiful," Ron said.
Draco smiled, amused. "I know who she is. You went to the Yule Ball with her."
Ron shook his head. "How the fuck do you remember? Actually don't tell me. Harry probably remembers what you did. You two were psychos. Anyway, give me something that isn't valuable and you won't miss," he told Blaise who handed him an ashtray with a frown.
"He'll make a portkey. Perks of being an auror," Draco explained as he sat up. "Fuck, my head hurts."
"And this is why we're seeing Padma." Ron moved to a far corner and turned his back on them while casting the spell, before returning to the couch. "Time to go."
They arrived at Padma’s a few moments later. This was hardly the first time that Ron had showed up in the middle of the night. It had begun two months after she started her training. Neville had insisted that he trusted her more than any healer since she had been their unofficial mediwitch during their seventh year. Padma had taken care of their wounds without blinking. The Daily Prophet had lost a scoop and since then, she got three patients who showed up at all hours.
This time, it was a different patient, but she checked Draco over and said that he was fine, except for malnutrition and being underweight. She also said no more unknown potions, but Ron didn't need a healer for that recommendation. Finally, they were back at Grimmauld Place and in Ron's bed, since he had insisted that Draco shouldn't sleep alone.
"I'm sorry," Draco murmured. "I didn't mean to keep you awake."
Ron had wanted to do this in the morning, really he did, but he couldn't keep quiet. "What the hell went through your head. One day, one bloody day I don't come home and you leave. Can't you survive a day without attention?"
"I- that wasn't. Daphne couldn't come, Pansy left early. You three weren't home."
"Yes, there was an emergency at work, big case and most of the DMLE, including us three, was stuck there. What else did you think happened? We refused to come home?" Ron asked.
"I didn't think at all. You weren't here. I got bored, firecalled Blaise and he asked me to go out with him. I figured what was the harm? I've been doing good, but then we were there and the first potion, then the second and I lost control." Draco turned to his side, looking at Ron. "You didn't sign up for this. Mother didn't know what she was doing."
Ron snorted. "Your mother knew exactly what she was doing. I can't even blame her. I'm still pissed, but I can understand why she did it. The problem is that she wants me to be your husband and the one who makes sure you stay clean, but I can't do that, Draco. You have to find the reason to stay clean inside you, because I can't be with you 24/7."
"I've been thinking about it." Draco bit his lip. "There is something we can do to get out of this without the curse activating."
"That's not what I said," Ron pointed out.
"I know, but you're too much of a Gryffindor to have a fake marriage and I've done a lot of shitty things in my life, but I don't want to force you into this. My life is fucked up enough and I'm not dragging into it as well. We need to get married and I'll agree to having a real marriage, monogamy and all of that, but also when the curse was cast, there were no divorce laws. We can wait a suitable amount of time, before ending the marriage. You'd be off the hook and hopefully I'll be able to stay clean without you."
Ron could hear the hesitancy in Draco's voice, but the fact that he was thinking of doing the right thing made Ron feel better about this, and he had to admit that it wasn't very different from his own plan. The main difference was that his plan meant to 'fix' Draco in two months, while Draco's plan lasted another thirteen months. He had to admit that it was a lot more realistic and if Draco needed a little more time, he would give him that.
"All right, but let's agree that we won't just divorce. We'll reevaluate and then we'll go from there, okay?" Ron asked. "We also need a plan to ensure that you stay clean. Definitely no more clubbing with Blaise. Hell, he shouldn't be clubbing."
"Right now, I'm okay with that, but I almost died. Then something happens and I forget," Draco admitted.
"I know, but this is why we'll figure out a plan," Ron said. "You just have to want to."
Draco nodded, before grinning. "At least we know the sex will be great."
"Oh shut up, because you're not getting me to fuck you. I'm too tired to get it up," Ron said, chuckling.
"Fine, we can sleep until noon and then we have sex," Draco answered.
"That sounds like a great compromise." Ron grinned. They were on a roll, reaching compromise after compromise. Hopefully, they'd be able to do the same during their marriage.
***
A year later
"Did you finish packing?" Ron asked as he ran up the stairs.
"Almost done. Spuffy has taken all the boxes to the Manor already." Draco put the last of his things into his trunk and turned around to smile at Ron. "All ready to go."
Ron closed the gap between them and put his arms around Draco. "Are you sure about this?"
Draco nodded without hesitation. "Hermione moved in with Daphne."
"And the press is still looking for her secret boyfriend," Ron said, chuckling.
"Blaise is dating your sister. Harry proposed to Pansy and seriously, do you think living here now that she's moving in would be a good idea?" He shook his head. "It's time I stand up on my own… and we have our own house. I know Harry doesn't care if we live here, but it's his house."
"And that manor belongs to your father," Ron pointed out.
Draco shook his head. "The Manor belongs to the Malfoys. This is why there are smaller apartments within the house. Multiple generations can live there at the same time. It's mine as much as his. I've already told Mother that we'll need a different apartment, something bigger, with a separate bedroom, so we can receive friends there, without having to use the common rooms."
Ron shook his head. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to having multiple rooms that function as a sitting room: drawing room, morning room, conservatory, music room. There are a lot of bloody rooms for a family of three."
"Of four now. Are you sure about this? We said a year. You can get out of this if you want," Draco said with a grin.
"You're such a dick. You know I'm not going anywhere." Ron pressed his lips against Draco's, smiling. "I might have fallen in love with a Malfoy."
"Oh the heresy," Draco said, laughing. "At least I've fallen in love with a Weasley, so it's not too terrible for you." He looked around the room and then back at Ron. "Ready to go, then?"
Ron nodded. "Let's go home."