17/02/2014 16:42![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
my_thestral
my_thestralAuthor's note: This... has been one massive bitch of a chapter. :S It's been almost 2 months in the making, it's overly long and easily the one I'm the least proud of. I never thought it would be so hard writing the Weasleys - and yet I've been absolute crap about it. But it needs to be here if I want to close down the story, so I decided I had enough dwelling over it and it's getting posted today. God have mercy on my soul, but I honestly can't bare to try and make it better one more time, it just keeps on vampirizing on me! So this is, de facto exorcism par excellence, I'm releasing it into the wild and let you lot deal with it! Share some of the misery, will you? ;) I'll just post it in two parts and hope the damn LJ won't ask me to split it into more tiny chaptery fractions, I really hate it when it does that! And of course, it's totally unbeta-ed, so do mind the pitfalls in grammar as well.:)
Word count: 5740 (this part)
Pairing: Ron/Draco, some mention of past Ron/Harry
Rating: Not exactly an R - chapter, but the rest of the story is, so yeah, keep away if you're underage
Disclaimer: If you wanted to accuse me I own anything, I'd deny it and let you keep the money as well. In short, not mine, not about to be profitable.
“I saw him today.”
Bill Weasley might as well have dropped a grenade in the middle of their lunch table. Molly Weasley gasped and dropped her knife, while her husband’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth, Percy immediately removed his glasses and began cleaning the lenses nervously and even George, with a lifetime of mischief behind him, stopped chewing on his lamb chop, raised an eyebrow and looked his brother straight in the face with no small amount of amusement: “This should be interesting…”
But the first proper reaction came from Ginny, who glared at her oldest brother with nothing short of hatred in her eyes and hissed: “Traitor! How dare you…”
But she didn’t come far with her hate-tirade; her mother finally recovered her wits about and the words poured out of her mouth with eagerness and speed that alone testified how long she’s kept her stifled feelings to herself:
“Sweet Rowena and Morgana, how is he?! Has he been eating properly?! He looks awfully pale on those Prophet pictures! My poor baby, being lead astray by that horrible Malfoy devil like that! Has he mentioned us? He can’t still be angry at me about that Howler, can he? Why doesn’t he call? What goes around that silly boy’s head, I’ll never know…”
“Mom!!” Bill nearly had to howl to get her attention and his father got up and put his hands around his wife calmingly. And Molly Weasley, as fierce a creature as she was, needed it. The tears had already welled up in her eyes and her hands were pressed against her chest as if she was trying to contain her bursting heart inside.
“Relax, Molly, dear, I’m sure Bill will explain everything any moment now, though I’m sure he could have picked a better time than the family lunch,” he looked at his son with reproach, though not entirely unkindly – he knew better than anyone how much Molly craved knowledge, any information at this point, of her unruly youngest son. Ever since that impossible business with Harry came to light, Ron has been a silent ghost at their family table and Arthur knew how heavy his absence bore down on his wife and how very miserable it made her. He alone had been privy to the full depth of her distress after they lost Fred and now this…
He knew that his wife, as strong as she was, couldn’t handle the loss of another child and Ron, of all her children, had always kept her tethering on the edge of her sanity with his mad adventures. And just when they all thought he settled down with Hermione, whom they all adored and were exceptionally proud to welcome into family – home comes Ginny one day, crying like a banshee about Ron having an affair – an affair, of all things, as if crazy life-threatening adventures weren’t enough for their frayed nerves! – with Harry – of all people! - and that Ron left Hermione, but wouldn’t promise to leave Harry alone… In short, it was all such a bloody mess Arthur didn’t know what to make of it and he was surprised that the family continued to function as it did!
He supposed it was no small thanks to Harry, who clearly repented and apologized to everyone for putting them in such an awkward position and he couldn’t understand George, who got up after his little speech and told Harry “You’re a fool, Potter, you know that?” before he left abruptly. Surely Harry did the right thing! Arthur had never even heard of such a thing as a “relationship” between men! There were things, of course… talk and gossip one picked up after a night of drinking, making it obvious that such… activities existed, but it mortified him to think his own son and his son-in-law engaged in such a wretched thing! He couldn’t… he wouldn’t imagine how it all went down between them, it just made him extremely uncomfortable, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking why…
Why would two perfectly normal looking healthy young men, who had everything one could ever want in life – loving wives, lovely children, highly prominent jobs – risk it all for something as obnoxious an affair?! It bothered him to no end and for his part he just wanted to look his son in the eye and ask him that question. He couldn’t do it to Harry. Harry, as much as he loved him, was not his flesh and blood. He had no right.
He must have thought about his youngest son more in the last few weeks since this whole bloody mess exploded in their faces than he did in his entire life until now. Sure, he always worried about him, they all did – being Harry Potter’s friend came with an awfully high price in sleepless nights for a parent. But up until now he always associated Ron’s reckless life with something… grand… and noble… and exciting; something that made him proud that he could call himself his father. But all this “affair” business… there was no saying how very edgy it made him.
And guilty. Perhaps if he had been around his children more, paid Ron more attention, not only when he was out there, risking his life with Harry and Hermione, but on other occasions as well, in everyday life, not to leave Molly with the sole responsibility to raise him as a decent human being... Perhaps there was something only a father could give to his child, some proper sense of right or wrong, some sense of boundaries… Harry didn’t have a proper dad either, perhaps that was why this all descended on them…
Oh, my, was he ever so lost at this! All he knew at this moment was, that it was entirely too late, out of their hands and beyond repair. This business with Harry had at least been contained within their own family, even Ginny in all her justified wrath had the common sense not to spread the word, but now there was a Malfoy involved and of course the whole foul mess exploded all over the newspapers!
A Malfoy!!! Imagine that! Of all people! What was Ron thinking indeed?! He knew how Malfoys were, how could he ever hope to take this… oh, affair was such an unfortunate word… how could he hope to take this thing with son of the devil incarnate, Lucius Malfoy, anywhere?! Malfoys were… well, they were horrible, weren’t they?! At least Lucius was the most obnoxious evil narrow-minded creature to ever draw breath and if Arthur had a choice between offing him or the Dark Lord himself, it would have been a hard take indeed! And he had no grounds to think his son was any different! He has been tormenting Ron throughout all his teenage years and to this day he could not imagine why Harry stood up for the lot of them in the trial and had them all walk free with all but a tap on the wrist!
His Ron, his youngest boy… and that monster’s son! Ron, of all his children, reminded him the most of his younger self. He looked like a younger echo of Arthur and – save for the proper Prewett temper –he was more of a Weasley than the rest of his children combined. There was boldness and courage underneath his unassuming exterior, but Arthur knew there would also be tenderness and vulnerability that only came out in the most precious of moments.
And Arthur felt as if a cold hand wrapped around his heart and squeezed when he thought that one of his beloved children, his least self-assured son, his Ron, has put himself to the mercy of one Malfoy. Surely the son was no better than the father, how could he be, fathered and bred by Lucius! As sure as death Malfoy youngest will only take what he wants from Ron, rip him apart, chew him up and then smash him like an insignificant bug that found himself in a way of his shoe. That’s how Malfoy’s worked, dear God, Ron should have known better...
That’s why the Prophet photo had made Arthur almost physically sick; his sweet precious son, so much alike himself, staring with devotion down that pale face that might as well have been Lucius himself twenty years younger! And it didn’t help one bit that George pulled out the blasted newspaper out of his hand, took one long look at it and mumbled: “It serves Potter right… they look in love.”
In love! His son… in love with Lucius Malfoy’s son… the thought was as unimaginable as it was unbearable. Yet… it seems to have happened. Well, at least something must have happened, The Prophet was and always will remain the untrustworthy rag! One thing was for sure: Arthur Weasley wanted, no, needed answers to make his world right again and in this moment he looked at Bill as expectantly as Molly did, though for a different reason. And his oldest son did not disappoint him:
“He wants to come over... and explain... if we’ll have him,” Bill said quietly and looked at his mother almost pleadingly as if the faith of the entire family depended on her words.
Molly’s eager “But of course!” overlapped perfectly with Ginny’s fiery “Hell, no!” The youngest Weasley had gotten up abruptly, all menace and hardness in her pretty brown eyes, and approached her big brother, with nothing short of a threat radiating from her posture.
“To think you’re behind him in the wretched matter!” she hissed. “First he attempts to take my husband from me and when that fails, he decides it’s a good idea to drag the family name through the mud by whoring himself in public to that horrible spoilt Death Eater brat! And all this time you’ve only been pretending to understand, you bastard! Small wonder, of course, that you should take his side, when we all know that you and Charlie...”
But that was as far as she got, before a loud angry “Silencio!” left her agitated mouth moving on empty and Charlie Weasley took a step out of the fireplace and shook soot off his fiery hair.
Bill, as pale as a sheet, got up to his feet so fast he nearly toppled over a table and his breathless “You came...” drowned in a big bear embrace his sturdy brother almost squashed him in.
“Of course I came,” he murmured softly against his brother’s ear and somehow managed to hide a clandestine kiss into the long silken hair. “You called... I came. It’s always been like that with us, Bill. You call, I come,” he said simply and finally let go, just to turn around and stare at the furious face of his baby sister.
“Besides… someone had to shut this rattle down,” he looked at his sister with a wary spark in his eyes, only to see her draw her wand and attempt to throw a hex at him. He heard his parents draw a shocked gasp in unison, but Ginny proved no match for the dragon-minder’s reflexes. He blocked whatever she intended to do with such ease that nothing appeared to have happened, and only when a set of sparks suddenly bounced off of a semi-circular orb surrounding Charlie and Bill it became evident he had used a standard shielding charm.
“Not so good with the non-verbal spells, are we, Ginny?” he asked matter-of-factly, with just a slight undertone of ridicule in his voice. “You still have a thing or two to learn from mom, I reckon. Either way - I wouldn’t try that welcome on Ron if I were you. He’s a proper Auror, that one; he might forget for a second there that you were his baby sister, the one he went out of his way to shelter for his entire life – and then, my beautiful sister, you’d be cinder and ashes, he’s none too gentle with people that are after his neck these days – or so I’ve heard.”
And then Charlie’s eyes, the same shade of honey brown as Ginny’s, became uncharacteristically hard:
“Oh – and if I were you, I’d back off from hurting yet another member of your family to keep your pride intact.” His eyes glanced protectively over Bill to and softened when he saw a big goofy grin on his favourite brother’s face. “It’s not Bill’s fault – I’m not even sure it’s Ron’s fault entirely – if you couldn’t keep you man’s hands to yourself. With a wench you’ve become, anyone would have run!”
By this time Ginny’s face had become beet red and when she abruptly pushed her wand into the holster and launched at her brother, it was her mother who finally found her wits about and pushed herself between them.
“Well, I never… Fight?! Under my roof!? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, the pair of you! You’re not too old, neither of you, to use Granny’s good old broom on your behinds! Charles Weasley!!” she turned to her second-born and he visibly shrunk from her trademark fists-in her-sides pose. “Remove the spell from your sister this instant! You will not fire hexes at each other in your home, I hope I have raised you better than that! Charlie… now!”
Charlie begrudgingly mumbled “Finite Incantatem!” and as soon as he spoke the last syllable, Molly threw herself around his neck and hugged him fiercely: “You scoundrel! Oh, am I ever so glad to see you!”
In the mean time Arthur wrapped his suddenly sobbing daughter in his arms as a precaution and patted her back soothingly: “There, there… everyone calm down a little… We’re all family. There are other ways to settle this.”
“Still know how to make an entry, I see…” Bill whispered into Charlie’s ear as soon as he managed to free himself out of his mother’s overwhelming embrace.
“Shut up… she would have hexed you into potato peels eventually, slow and old as you are,” mumbled Charlie good-naturedly and earned himself a slap on the butt.
“Remind this old man to thank you… in my old slow way… ” whispered Bill when his hand lingered just a tad too long on his brother’s firm behind, just long enough to feel the charge of magic run down Charlie’s body and have him shiver.
“William Arthur Weasley, I want some answers and I want them now!” his mother interrupted the non-verbal exchange between brothers and Bill smiled at Charlie sheepishly and turned to his mother.
“Of course... I almost forgot. With her ladyship The Drama Queen there,” he pointed at Ginny, “making a fuss and making it all about herself again, and this pillock jumping at me from the fireplace like that,” he looked at Charlie with amusement, “it’s hard to focus on the really important matters.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” his mother said with unexpected thoughtfulness. “Percy, do take Ginny into her room and fix her a cup of tea.”
“But I don’t want to go!” erupted the only Weasley daughter. “I want to hear what those two have been plotting behind my back, what wonderful and utterly worthless excuses they managed to come up with between them to explain Ron’s recent fuck-ups! I want to...”
“And I want you to leave,” interrupted her mother, for once uncharacteristically calm. “And you, young lady, will not use language like this in my presence, ever again! Merlin knows I’m eager to hear as much as you are what Ron could possibly have to say for himself, but I’m afraid we won’t get his side of the story, if you keep on throwing insults at him and the rest of your brothers. This is my house and you will do as I say. Or leave.”
The firmness in her eyes was a stern reminder that this was the woman who blew Bellatrix Lestrange, the very right hand of the Dark Lord, to smithereens, and Ginny, as fierce as she was, recognised her defeat.
“I hate you all!” she threw at them feverishly, turned on the heel and all but ran away from the room. Percy followed eagerly, unmistakable relief on his face testifying how happy he was to leave the thick atmosphere of the room behind him.
As soon as they were gone, Molly Weasley faced her oldest son and with Ginny gone, all the worry and despair settled back into her eyes.
“How is he?” she spoke quickly, almost hungrily, as if she was afraid that if she didn’t ask the question now, she will never get a chance to.
“He is fine, mom, honestly,” Bill said softly, almost soothingly. “I went to meet him the other day already, I wanted to apologize. The more I kept thinking about it, the more I felt guilty about blaming him for the whole “getting involved with Harry” business. I’m sure Harry must have played his part in it, it’s not like Ron had to twist his arm into it - and yet we were all so eager to pardon him when he apologized – and none of us thought for a moment, how Ron must have felt. I know my little brother – he would never have hurt Ginny or Hermione on purpose, so I gathered something deeper than just thoughtless playing around must have been underneath this affair we all dismissed with such ease. We...” he looked hesitatingly at his family and saw them practically hanging on every word from his lips - and made a decision. Fuck it, he might as well throw it all to the dogs and speak frankly – with Percy and Ginny gone and Charlie backing him up, while George was being his usual neutral smirking self, perhaps he stood a chance, a small one, but a chance nevertheless of trying to make sense of Ron’s behaviour for his lost and hurt-looking parents.
“I, for myself, always knew Ron loved Harry,” he spoke as softly as he could, as if his voice could soften the blow he was about to deliver. “I just didn’t know how much. And for all I saw, I always thought Harry loved him right back. I think Harry tried very hard to replace Ron with Ginny, because we all know how much he craved to have a family of his own. It was hardly fair to Ginny, but I don’t think he knew what he was doing at the time. And I suppose for a while it worked for all of them, because they were all so busy with building their lives and their careers and starting a family. But for all it is worth – I think it was Harry who wasn’t willing to give Ron up and not the other way around and eventually this thing…” he tried to choose the right set of words for the sake of his parents, “... this affection between them burst to life with a vengeance.
Look - mom, dad...” he took a large gulp of breath - hoping he was doing the right thing and doing it right - then continued: “I know it’s hard for you to believe that two men could love each other,” his eyes diverted to Charlie apologetically, almost pleadingly, “but it’s love, just like any other. It’s common - perhaps not traditional, but accepted - among your beloved Muggles, dad. Men fall in love, they live together and it’s alright. Women do, too. With each other. If they love each other, they do.
But there is no such thing in our world. There are not enough of us and we need to have children. Ron knew that, so he did what was expected of him. Harry didn’t know, but he followed Ron’s example simply because he wanted his own family so badly. But you are what you are and you can’t be someone else. Harry was always the Chosen one for Ron and, as much as I respect what Harry tried to do with his apology, I think he stamped most cruelly over Ron’s heart. And... oh, bloody hell, I know we don’t talk about it in this family, but we all know how easy it is to hurt Ron with all his insecurities and “I’m the last and the most worthless” attitude! Ron was willing to take the blame for all the hurt they’ve caused, for everything the world would have deemed as wrong, he was willing to love Harry to the grave and back, if only Harry acknowledged him as his equal – but Harry never did. He apologized for loving him. And Ron couldn’t accept that.
And I can understand. In fact, I respect him and love him for it. And I don’t think we should humour Ginny’s hurt pride any longer by shoving Ron’s face in the dirt. I, for one, don’t want to neglect my brother any longer. I love that little bugger with all my heart, just as I love that spoilt princess sulking in her room right now, and I’m no longer willing to be a hostage of Ginny’s anger and Harry’s cowardice – don’t give me that look, dad, that’s exactly what this is. I want to be able to meet my brother and hug him and tell him off for being a prick and welcome him in this home and in my own, because he’s the bravest effing person I’ve ever met!”
Bill looked around him defiantly, only to find his mother stare at him with tears in her eyes and a quiet “Oh, Billy…” before she threw her arms around him, told him she understood. Love was the one foundation this family could not do without, it was their glue in the hardest of times and though they never much spoke of it, it was the quiet pulse underneath everything good they ever did with their lives.
“Good ol’ Albus D. couldn’t have put it better himself,” mumbled Charlie, considerably red in the face from the attempts to keep emotion at bay, while George added quietly: “I told Potter he was a fool. We always thought they were awfully cute together…” And everybody knew who was the other part of “we”.
Arthur found himself with a knot in his throat. Not once had he thought that Ron, perhaps, might have truly been in love with Harry and now that he did, Harry’s apology did sound like an awfully harsh thing to do. Arthur could understand love. He was surrounded by it ever since he first put his arms around that fierce warm-hearted redheaded girl who later made him the happiest proudest man on Earth by becoming his wife. And with a bit of squinting he could understand Ron’s devotion to Harry – after all, the Boy who once lived with no love grew up one hell of a Man that was almost too easy to love.
But while loving warm, compassionate charismatic yet unassuming Harry was easy to picture, Arthur still had a hard time imagining how could he be replaced in Ron’s hearty by someone cold, disdainful and cruel – like one Malfoy. And the words spilled out of him before he could stop them:
“But what about Malfoy?! I don’t understand... Harry... I could make sense of Harry, everybody loves Harry, but Malfoy... what the heck is Ron’s business with him?! This can’t be right, he’s... not right... he’ll only hurt him, I know he will, he’s a Malfoy, they know no better! And if he only kept it private...”
“I honestly have no idea,” Bill interrupted his father, unwilling for see what little grace he won for Ron go to waste because of his brother’s unfortunate choice of a partner. “Fuck me, if I understand – yeah, I know, mom, the language... I suggest you ask him, dad. He’s willing to come as soon as he’s called and make some sense of it – I as sure as hell couldn’t make heads or tails out of that Prophet story... though I must admit they look kind of cute together,” he mumbled as an afterthought and caught a snippy radiant smile on Charlie’s face.
“Well, go on, call him then! Let’s see what this... folly is all about,” Arthur flung his long arms in the air impatiently and ended up ruffling his hair with a gesture that would make Harry proud. Bill has rarely ever seen his father so upset and seeing Arthur more upset than Molly was a definite first.
His heart was heavy when he walked to the fireplace to call on his brother, knowing that Ron was likely to receive a most unpleasant welcome. He wished nothing but the best for his little brother but as much as he had tried to make them understand –for the kind of traditional people his parents were the world was a very different place from the realm Ron stepped in with his unorthodox decisions and an even more startling choice of a partner.
Frankly – Bill could not see how on Earth could Ron possibly make them understand, even Bill himself couldn’t begin to fathom what could Ron ever see in that skinny pale wanker – but if Bill had learned anything about his inconspicuous little brother it was the fact that he never failed to surprise. As average and awkward as he might once have seemed among his more colourful, bolder brothers –he had achieved more than all of them combined. In all but 25 years of his life he had become a household name, a best friend to a legend, Minister’s husband, an idol to many and above all - a man that was willing to throw it all away to remain true to himself. Bill admired him to no end, his bravery, his integrity, his silent self-confidence. I suppose it was time to place his trust in Ron yet again – he was not a man of grand words, but there was sincerity and innocence about him that might do a better job on his parents than any eloquence could have. Time to put this theory to test, then.
~
Ron realized he was nervous. Stuck in his new office, sipping lukewarm abomination that passed for a coffee at the Ministry, he had nothing to do but wait for Bill to call him – or not. What if his family decided they’ve had it with him? He knew his mother – for all the screaming she was capable of, she would have forgiven any one of her boys even if she found him with a knife dripping with blood over the corpse of a Unicorn - she was just good like that. But his dad… he was a whole different matter. Arthur Weasley was nothing if not a man of integrity. He knew his right from wrong and if standing up for what he believed in meant a full-on war with one of his children – then a full on war it was. The whole awful situation with Percy before the second war had taught them all a harsh lesson: Arthur Weasley, as much as he always preferred to stick to the background of his vibrant family, was a proper pater familias, who knew how to put his foot down in the way that made the Earth shake. What passed on as acceptable to the family was ultimately his call. And that worried Ron.
He knew he was not very close to his dad – when they were little Arthur worked every extra hour he could to make the ends meet and as such, hardly spent any time with his children. Arthur was close to Bill, his firstborn, sometimes they seemed to understand each other with no words; perhaps to Percy, who worked next to him and understood the Ministry business better than any of his other children and Ginny was always his little princess. But not Ron, never Ron. All he ever got from Ron were an inch-deep wrinkles on his forehead from his deadly adventures and though Ron was sure his dad loved him no less than the rest of his offspring – he wasn’t completely sure of Arthur’s capacity to understand and accept something as foreign as relationship between two men. Especially so if one of the pair was his own child and another was a Malfoy.
If anything could diminish his chances of finding understanding with his dad, this was a sure thing. Dad despised the Malfoys. And honestly, Ron had no idea how to make him welcome the son of Lucius Malfoy into their family. Perhaps if he had more time, he would be able to devise a strategy, introduce the idea slowly, but Harry had been clever: making the whole thing blow up into their faces so suddenly robbed Ron of any manoeuvring space to do this properly. But that as sure as hell didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to try. Not in the least because his chosen one was a Malfoy. This meant trouble.
He did not had time to discuss this with Draco yet, but he knew that if chances of being accepted by his family were slim, the chances of finding understanding for their relationship with the Malfoys were non- existent. Lucius Malfoy was a vicious person who hardly stopped at anything and if it meant protecting his own flesh and blood as well as the reputation of the Malfoy family from what he would surely see as the ultimate disgrace - he would most likely be going for a kill. Possibly literally. And if Ron’s family was to renounce him… they’d have no one to turn to. Harry was… he was not used to having Harry as his adversary, this was just… it wasn’t right. But he was not going to be on his side, not this time, that much was sure. And if Draco couldn’t make peace with Hermione… as tempted as he was to go and see how that particular confrontation went, he knew he needed to keep his focus and his wits about, so he decided against it. If Hermione wasn’t ready to back them up, he didn’t need to know that now. It would only make him more edgy.
So as it was, he was pretty desperate to patch things up with his family. He had let this wound fester for far too long and perhaps now, it would be too late… He missed them like crazy. He missed his mother’s delicious comfort cooking and caring scolding, George’s breakfast pranks and the enthusiastic slightly mad look on dad’s face when he showed up with yet another Muggle device he knew no purpose for and he couldn’t wait to put apart and modify. Fuck, he even missed the trashing about of the ghoul on the attic and de-gnoming a garden was a damn good exercise! He longed to show Draco his orange room that will surely call for emergency resuscitation of the sophisticated youth – he wouldn’t mind some good old mouth-to-mouth right about now – and perhaps they could enlarge the bed a little and see if it could take their double weight…
He was daydreaming now, he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t imagine not having his family to back him up, no Sunday lunches to look forward to (or to avoid), no Howlers telling him someone cared, no pranks and teasing and brotherly fights. Well, at least knew he could count on Bill, though his oldest brother had almost choked over a scone when he told him Malfoy and him were not just one night fuck-buddies. And he had Charlie, he always had Charlie. Even the thought of his older brother with his quiet adamant attitude, so much like his dad’s, made him smile. Perhaps there was hope after all. If anyone could stand up to whatever the world had in store for him and his man – god, it still felt surreal to call Draco Malfoy his own! – if anyone could, it was his family. And Lucius Malfoy, with all his evil intentions and devious means would find a worthy opponent in his father. Arthur knew him inside out, he was used to his vicious merciless style of actions and if anyone had the means and knowledge to ruthlessly curb the anger of one Lucius Malfoy it was his dad. He’d be glad to do it, actually. If only he could make him understand…
So far he didn’t have much of a plan. He already knew it would probably come down to his dad. And it’s going to be a hard sell. Anyone would have been a hard sell, even Harry – but Harry didn’t choose him, Malfoy did. And Malfoy it was going to be. Even if it meant no more Sunday lunches, neurotic ghuls and firecrackers in the morning coffee. The blond risked everything, he gave his all and Ron wasn’t going to let him down. He had nothing left without Draco. With him, he could have it all. And if his family really cared for him, they would understand. Suddenly his head was clear and the nervousness gone. He had already made his decision, he just needed to break it to his parents. What happens from that point on, will not be up to him anymore. It will be like flashing a Horcrux in their faces – he hoped they can conquer it, just like he once had to. He had chosen the right way all those years ago, he had overcome his biggest weaknesses and he came out on the other side cleaned by the fire of envy, resentment and insecurity. It had made him a man he was today. Perhaps his family can come out stronger as well. If not… he still had his man.
Even the thought of Draco, of his dreamy morning smile, of the silver eyes, suddenly laced with awe when he realized who he woke up with and then of those perfect white limbs, stubbornly wrapped up around him, unwilling to let him go just to get some last minute cuddling –those thoughts were enough to stretch his lips into a conquering smile. Yes, he had his man now and what a man it was! He was just perfect, he was…
“Ron?” A soot covered image of Bill from the fireplace broke through his reveries and the redhead instantly sobered. That was it, then. He hoped he could do this right. He had missed them and right now he needed them. They can’t reject him because of love, he won’t let them.
~ End of Part 11/1 ~
Next: ( Choices, Part 11/2 )
See also:
( Choices, Part 1 )
( Choices, Part 2 )
( Choices, Part 3 )
( Choices, Part 4 )
( Choices, Part 5/1 )
( Choices, Part 5/2 )
( Choices, Part 6 )
( Choices, Part 7 )
( Choices, Part 8/1 )
( Choices, Part 8/2 )
( Choices, Part 9 )
( Choices, Part 10/1 )
( Choices, Part 10/2 )
Word count: 5740 (this part)
Pairing: Ron/Draco, some mention of past Ron/Harry
Rating: Not exactly an R - chapter, but the rest of the story is, so yeah, keep away if you're underage
Disclaimer: If you wanted to accuse me I own anything, I'd deny it and let you keep the money as well. In short, not mine, not about to be profitable.
“I saw him today.”
Bill Weasley might as well have dropped a grenade in the middle of their lunch table. Molly Weasley gasped and dropped her knife, while her husband’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth, Percy immediately removed his glasses and began cleaning the lenses nervously and even George, with a lifetime of mischief behind him, stopped chewing on his lamb chop, raised an eyebrow and looked his brother straight in the face with no small amount of amusement: “This should be interesting…”
But the first proper reaction came from Ginny, who glared at her oldest brother with nothing short of hatred in her eyes and hissed: “Traitor! How dare you…”
But she didn’t come far with her hate-tirade; her mother finally recovered her wits about and the words poured out of her mouth with eagerness and speed that alone testified how long she’s kept her stifled feelings to herself:
“Sweet Rowena and Morgana, how is he?! Has he been eating properly?! He looks awfully pale on those Prophet pictures! My poor baby, being lead astray by that horrible Malfoy devil like that! Has he mentioned us? He can’t still be angry at me about that Howler, can he? Why doesn’t he call? What goes around that silly boy’s head, I’ll never know…”
“Mom!!” Bill nearly had to howl to get her attention and his father got up and put his hands around his wife calmingly. And Molly Weasley, as fierce a creature as she was, needed it. The tears had already welled up in her eyes and her hands were pressed against her chest as if she was trying to contain her bursting heart inside.
“Relax, Molly, dear, I’m sure Bill will explain everything any moment now, though I’m sure he could have picked a better time than the family lunch,” he looked at his son with reproach, though not entirely unkindly – he knew better than anyone how much Molly craved knowledge, any information at this point, of her unruly youngest son. Ever since that impossible business with Harry came to light, Ron has been a silent ghost at their family table and Arthur knew how heavy his absence bore down on his wife and how very miserable it made her. He alone had been privy to the full depth of her distress after they lost Fred and now this…
He knew that his wife, as strong as she was, couldn’t handle the loss of another child and Ron, of all her children, had always kept her tethering on the edge of her sanity with his mad adventures. And just when they all thought he settled down with Hermione, whom they all adored and were exceptionally proud to welcome into family – home comes Ginny one day, crying like a banshee about Ron having an affair – an affair, of all things, as if crazy life-threatening adventures weren’t enough for their frayed nerves! – with Harry – of all people! - and that Ron left Hermione, but wouldn’t promise to leave Harry alone… In short, it was all such a bloody mess Arthur didn’t know what to make of it and he was surprised that the family continued to function as it did!
He supposed it was no small thanks to Harry, who clearly repented and apologized to everyone for putting them in such an awkward position and he couldn’t understand George, who got up after his little speech and told Harry “You’re a fool, Potter, you know that?” before he left abruptly. Surely Harry did the right thing! Arthur had never even heard of such a thing as a “relationship” between men! There were things, of course… talk and gossip one picked up after a night of drinking, making it obvious that such… activities existed, but it mortified him to think his own son and his son-in-law engaged in such a wretched thing! He couldn’t… he wouldn’t imagine how it all went down between them, it just made him extremely uncomfortable, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking why…
Why would two perfectly normal looking healthy young men, who had everything one could ever want in life – loving wives, lovely children, highly prominent jobs – risk it all for something as obnoxious an affair?! It bothered him to no end and for his part he just wanted to look his son in the eye and ask him that question. He couldn’t do it to Harry. Harry, as much as he loved him, was not his flesh and blood. He had no right.
He must have thought about his youngest son more in the last few weeks since this whole bloody mess exploded in their faces than he did in his entire life until now. Sure, he always worried about him, they all did – being Harry Potter’s friend came with an awfully high price in sleepless nights for a parent. But up until now he always associated Ron’s reckless life with something… grand… and noble… and exciting; something that made him proud that he could call himself his father. But all this “affair” business… there was no saying how very edgy it made him.
And guilty. Perhaps if he had been around his children more, paid Ron more attention, not only when he was out there, risking his life with Harry and Hermione, but on other occasions as well, in everyday life, not to leave Molly with the sole responsibility to raise him as a decent human being... Perhaps there was something only a father could give to his child, some proper sense of right or wrong, some sense of boundaries… Harry didn’t have a proper dad either, perhaps that was why this all descended on them…
Oh, my, was he ever so lost at this! All he knew at this moment was, that it was entirely too late, out of their hands and beyond repair. This business with Harry had at least been contained within their own family, even Ginny in all her justified wrath had the common sense not to spread the word, but now there was a Malfoy involved and of course the whole foul mess exploded all over the newspapers!
A Malfoy!!! Imagine that! Of all people! What was Ron thinking indeed?! He knew how Malfoys were, how could he ever hope to take this… oh, affair was such an unfortunate word… how could he hope to take this thing with son of the devil incarnate, Lucius Malfoy, anywhere?! Malfoys were… well, they were horrible, weren’t they?! At least Lucius was the most obnoxious evil narrow-minded creature to ever draw breath and if Arthur had a choice between offing him or the Dark Lord himself, it would have been a hard take indeed! And he had no grounds to think his son was any different! He has been tormenting Ron throughout all his teenage years and to this day he could not imagine why Harry stood up for the lot of them in the trial and had them all walk free with all but a tap on the wrist!
His Ron, his youngest boy… and that monster’s son! Ron, of all his children, reminded him the most of his younger self. He looked like a younger echo of Arthur and – save for the proper Prewett temper –he was more of a Weasley than the rest of his children combined. There was boldness and courage underneath his unassuming exterior, but Arthur knew there would also be tenderness and vulnerability that only came out in the most precious of moments.
And Arthur felt as if a cold hand wrapped around his heart and squeezed when he thought that one of his beloved children, his least self-assured son, his Ron, has put himself to the mercy of one Malfoy. Surely the son was no better than the father, how could he be, fathered and bred by Lucius! As sure as death Malfoy youngest will only take what he wants from Ron, rip him apart, chew him up and then smash him like an insignificant bug that found himself in a way of his shoe. That’s how Malfoy’s worked, dear God, Ron should have known better...
That’s why the Prophet photo had made Arthur almost physically sick; his sweet precious son, so much alike himself, staring with devotion down that pale face that might as well have been Lucius himself twenty years younger! And it didn’t help one bit that George pulled out the blasted newspaper out of his hand, took one long look at it and mumbled: “It serves Potter right… they look in love.”
In love! His son… in love with Lucius Malfoy’s son… the thought was as unimaginable as it was unbearable. Yet… it seems to have happened. Well, at least something must have happened, The Prophet was and always will remain the untrustworthy rag! One thing was for sure: Arthur Weasley wanted, no, needed answers to make his world right again and in this moment he looked at Bill as expectantly as Molly did, though for a different reason. And his oldest son did not disappoint him:
“He wants to come over... and explain... if we’ll have him,” Bill said quietly and looked at his mother almost pleadingly as if the faith of the entire family depended on her words.
Molly’s eager “But of course!” overlapped perfectly with Ginny’s fiery “Hell, no!” The youngest Weasley had gotten up abruptly, all menace and hardness in her pretty brown eyes, and approached her big brother, with nothing short of a threat radiating from her posture.
“To think you’re behind him in the wretched matter!” she hissed. “First he attempts to take my husband from me and when that fails, he decides it’s a good idea to drag the family name through the mud by whoring himself in public to that horrible spoilt Death Eater brat! And all this time you’ve only been pretending to understand, you bastard! Small wonder, of course, that you should take his side, when we all know that you and Charlie...”
But that was as far as she got, before a loud angry “Silencio!” left her agitated mouth moving on empty and Charlie Weasley took a step out of the fireplace and shook soot off his fiery hair.
Bill, as pale as a sheet, got up to his feet so fast he nearly toppled over a table and his breathless “You came...” drowned in a big bear embrace his sturdy brother almost squashed him in.
“Of course I came,” he murmured softly against his brother’s ear and somehow managed to hide a clandestine kiss into the long silken hair. “You called... I came. It’s always been like that with us, Bill. You call, I come,” he said simply and finally let go, just to turn around and stare at the furious face of his baby sister.
“Besides… someone had to shut this rattle down,” he looked at his sister with a wary spark in his eyes, only to see her draw her wand and attempt to throw a hex at him. He heard his parents draw a shocked gasp in unison, but Ginny proved no match for the dragon-minder’s reflexes. He blocked whatever she intended to do with such ease that nothing appeared to have happened, and only when a set of sparks suddenly bounced off of a semi-circular orb surrounding Charlie and Bill it became evident he had used a standard shielding charm.
“Not so good with the non-verbal spells, are we, Ginny?” he asked matter-of-factly, with just a slight undertone of ridicule in his voice. “You still have a thing or two to learn from mom, I reckon. Either way - I wouldn’t try that welcome on Ron if I were you. He’s a proper Auror, that one; he might forget for a second there that you were his baby sister, the one he went out of his way to shelter for his entire life – and then, my beautiful sister, you’d be cinder and ashes, he’s none too gentle with people that are after his neck these days – or so I’ve heard.”
And then Charlie’s eyes, the same shade of honey brown as Ginny’s, became uncharacteristically hard:
“Oh – and if I were you, I’d back off from hurting yet another member of your family to keep your pride intact.” His eyes glanced protectively over Bill to and softened when he saw a big goofy grin on his favourite brother’s face. “It’s not Bill’s fault – I’m not even sure it’s Ron’s fault entirely – if you couldn’t keep you man’s hands to yourself. With a wench you’ve become, anyone would have run!”
By this time Ginny’s face had become beet red and when she abruptly pushed her wand into the holster and launched at her brother, it was her mother who finally found her wits about and pushed herself between them.
“Well, I never… Fight?! Under my roof!? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, the pair of you! You’re not too old, neither of you, to use Granny’s good old broom on your behinds! Charles Weasley!!” she turned to her second-born and he visibly shrunk from her trademark fists-in her-sides pose. “Remove the spell from your sister this instant! You will not fire hexes at each other in your home, I hope I have raised you better than that! Charlie… now!”
Charlie begrudgingly mumbled “Finite Incantatem!” and as soon as he spoke the last syllable, Molly threw herself around his neck and hugged him fiercely: “You scoundrel! Oh, am I ever so glad to see you!”
In the mean time Arthur wrapped his suddenly sobbing daughter in his arms as a precaution and patted her back soothingly: “There, there… everyone calm down a little… We’re all family. There are other ways to settle this.”
“Still know how to make an entry, I see…” Bill whispered into Charlie’s ear as soon as he managed to free himself out of his mother’s overwhelming embrace.
“Shut up… she would have hexed you into potato peels eventually, slow and old as you are,” mumbled Charlie good-naturedly and earned himself a slap on the butt.
“Remind this old man to thank you… in my old slow way… ” whispered Bill when his hand lingered just a tad too long on his brother’s firm behind, just long enough to feel the charge of magic run down Charlie’s body and have him shiver.
“William Arthur Weasley, I want some answers and I want them now!” his mother interrupted the non-verbal exchange between brothers and Bill smiled at Charlie sheepishly and turned to his mother.
“Of course... I almost forgot. With her ladyship The Drama Queen there,” he pointed at Ginny, “making a fuss and making it all about herself again, and this pillock jumping at me from the fireplace like that,” he looked at Charlie with amusement, “it’s hard to focus on the really important matters.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” his mother said with unexpected thoughtfulness. “Percy, do take Ginny into her room and fix her a cup of tea.”
“But I don’t want to go!” erupted the only Weasley daughter. “I want to hear what those two have been plotting behind my back, what wonderful and utterly worthless excuses they managed to come up with between them to explain Ron’s recent fuck-ups! I want to...”
“And I want you to leave,” interrupted her mother, for once uncharacteristically calm. “And you, young lady, will not use language like this in my presence, ever again! Merlin knows I’m eager to hear as much as you are what Ron could possibly have to say for himself, but I’m afraid we won’t get his side of the story, if you keep on throwing insults at him and the rest of your brothers. This is my house and you will do as I say. Or leave.”
The firmness in her eyes was a stern reminder that this was the woman who blew Bellatrix Lestrange, the very right hand of the Dark Lord, to smithereens, and Ginny, as fierce as she was, recognised her defeat.
“I hate you all!” she threw at them feverishly, turned on the heel and all but ran away from the room. Percy followed eagerly, unmistakable relief on his face testifying how happy he was to leave the thick atmosphere of the room behind him.
As soon as they were gone, Molly Weasley faced her oldest son and with Ginny gone, all the worry and despair settled back into her eyes.
“How is he?” she spoke quickly, almost hungrily, as if she was afraid that if she didn’t ask the question now, she will never get a chance to.
“He is fine, mom, honestly,” Bill said softly, almost soothingly. “I went to meet him the other day already, I wanted to apologize. The more I kept thinking about it, the more I felt guilty about blaming him for the whole “getting involved with Harry” business. I’m sure Harry must have played his part in it, it’s not like Ron had to twist his arm into it - and yet we were all so eager to pardon him when he apologized – and none of us thought for a moment, how Ron must have felt. I know my little brother – he would never have hurt Ginny or Hermione on purpose, so I gathered something deeper than just thoughtless playing around must have been underneath this affair we all dismissed with such ease. We...” he looked hesitatingly at his family and saw them practically hanging on every word from his lips - and made a decision. Fuck it, he might as well throw it all to the dogs and speak frankly – with Percy and Ginny gone and Charlie backing him up, while George was being his usual neutral smirking self, perhaps he stood a chance, a small one, but a chance nevertheless of trying to make sense of Ron’s behaviour for his lost and hurt-looking parents.
“I, for myself, always knew Ron loved Harry,” he spoke as softly as he could, as if his voice could soften the blow he was about to deliver. “I just didn’t know how much. And for all I saw, I always thought Harry loved him right back. I think Harry tried very hard to replace Ron with Ginny, because we all know how much he craved to have a family of his own. It was hardly fair to Ginny, but I don’t think he knew what he was doing at the time. And I suppose for a while it worked for all of them, because they were all so busy with building their lives and their careers and starting a family. But for all it is worth – I think it was Harry who wasn’t willing to give Ron up and not the other way around and eventually this thing…” he tried to choose the right set of words for the sake of his parents, “... this affection between them burst to life with a vengeance.
Look - mom, dad...” he took a large gulp of breath - hoping he was doing the right thing and doing it right - then continued: “I know it’s hard for you to believe that two men could love each other,” his eyes diverted to Charlie apologetically, almost pleadingly, “but it’s love, just like any other. It’s common - perhaps not traditional, but accepted - among your beloved Muggles, dad. Men fall in love, they live together and it’s alright. Women do, too. With each other. If they love each other, they do.
But there is no such thing in our world. There are not enough of us and we need to have children. Ron knew that, so he did what was expected of him. Harry didn’t know, but he followed Ron’s example simply because he wanted his own family so badly. But you are what you are and you can’t be someone else. Harry was always the Chosen one for Ron and, as much as I respect what Harry tried to do with his apology, I think he stamped most cruelly over Ron’s heart. And... oh, bloody hell, I know we don’t talk about it in this family, but we all know how easy it is to hurt Ron with all his insecurities and “I’m the last and the most worthless” attitude! Ron was willing to take the blame for all the hurt they’ve caused, for everything the world would have deemed as wrong, he was willing to love Harry to the grave and back, if only Harry acknowledged him as his equal – but Harry never did. He apologized for loving him. And Ron couldn’t accept that.
And I can understand. In fact, I respect him and love him for it. And I don’t think we should humour Ginny’s hurt pride any longer by shoving Ron’s face in the dirt. I, for one, don’t want to neglect my brother any longer. I love that little bugger with all my heart, just as I love that spoilt princess sulking in her room right now, and I’m no longer willing to be a hostage of Ginny’s anger and Harry’s cowardice – don’t give me that look, dad, that’s exactly what this is. I want to be able to meet my brother and hug him and tell him off for being a prick and welcome him in this home and in my own, because he’s the bravest effing person I’ve ever met!”
Bill looked around him defiantly, only to find his mother stare at him with tears in her eyes and a quiet “Oh, Billy…” before she threw her arms around him, told him she understood. Love was the one foundation this family could not do without, it was their glue in the hardest of times and though they never much spoke of it, it was the quiet pulse underneath everything good they ever did with their lives.
“Good ol’ Albus D. couldn’t have put it better himself,” mumbled Charlie, considerably red in the face from the attempts to keep emotion at bay, while George added quietly: “I told Potter he was a fool. We always thought they were awfully cute together…” And everybody knew who was the other part of “we”.
Arthur found himself with a knot in his throat. Not once had he thought that Ron, perhaps, might have truly been in love with Harry and now that he did, Harry’s apology did sound like an awfully harsh thing to do. Arthur could understand love. He was surrounded by it ever since he first put his arms around that fierce warm-hearted redheaded girl who later made him the happiest proudest man on Earth by becoming his wife. And with a bit of squinting he could understand Ron’s devotion to Harry – after all, the Boy who once lived with no love grew up one hell of a Man that was almost too easy to love.
But while loving warm, compassionate charismatic yet unassuming Harry was easy to picture, Arthur still had a hard time imagining how could he be replaced in Ron’s hearty by someone cold, disdainful and cruel – like one Malfoy. And the words spilled out of him before he could stop them:
“But what about Malfoy?! I don’t understand... Harry... I could make sense of Harry, everybody loves Harry, but Malfoy... what the heck is Ron’s business with him?! This can’t be right, he’s... not right... he’ll only hurt him, I know he will, he’s a Malfoy, they know no better! And if he only kept it private...”
“I honestly have no idea,” Bill interrupted his father, unwilling for see what little grace he won for Ron go to waste because of his brother’s unfortunate choice of a partner. “Fuck me, if I understand – yeah, I know, mom, the language... I suggest you ask him, dad. He’s willing to come as soon as he’s called and make some sense of it – I as sure as hell couldn’t make heads or tails out of that Prophet story... though I must admit they look kind of cute together,” he mumbled as an afterthought and caught a snippy radiant smile on Charlie’s face.
“Well, go on, call him then! Let’s see what this... folly is all about,” Arthur flung his long arms in the air impatiently and ended up ruffling his hair with a gesture that would make Harry proud. Bill has rarely ever seen his father so upset and seeing Arthur more upset than Molly was a definite first.
His heart was heavy when he walked to the fireplace to call on his brother, knowing that Ron was likely to receive a most unpleasant welcome. He wished nothing but the best for his little brother but as much as he had tried to make them understand –for the kind of traditional people his parents were the world was a very different place from the realm Ron stepped in with his unorthodox decisions and an even more startling choice of a partner.
Frankly – Bill could not see how on Earth could Ron possibly make them understand, even Bill himself couldn’t begin to fathom what could Ron ever see in that skinny pale wanker – but if Bill had learned anything about his inconspicuous little brother it was the fact that he never failed to surprise. As average and awkward as he might once have seemed among his more colourful, bolder brothers –he had achieved more than all of them combined. In all but 25 years of his life he had become a household name, a best friend to a legend, Minister’s husband, an idol to many and above all - a man that was willing to throw it all away to remain true to himself. Bill admired him to no end, his bravery, his integrity, his silent self-confidence. I suppose it was time to place his trust in Ron yet again – he was not a man of grand words, but there was sincerity and innocence about him that might do a better job on his parents than any eloquence could have. Time to put this theory to test, then.
~
Ron realized he was nervous. Stuck in his new office, sipping lukewarm abomination that passed for a coffee at the Ministry, he had nothing to do but wait for Bill to call him – or not. What if his family decided they’ve had it with him? He knew his mother – for all the screaming she was capable of, she would have forgiven any one of her boys even if she found him with a knife dripping with blood over the corpse of a Unicorn - she was just good like that. But his dad… he was a whole different matter. Arthur Weasley was nothing if not a man of integrity. He knew his right from wrong and if standing up for what he believed in meant a full-on war with one of his children – then a full on war it was. The whole awful situation with Percy before the second war had taught them all a harsh lesson: Arthur Weasley, as much as he always preferred to stick to the background of his vibrant family, was a proper pater familias, who knew how to put his foot down in the way that made the Earth shake. What passed on as acceptable to the family was ultimately his call. And that worried Ron.
He knew he was not very close to his dad – when they were little Arthur worked every extra hour he could to make the ends meet and as such, hardly spent any time with his children. Arthur was close to Bill, his firstborn, sometimes they seemed to understand each other with no words; perhaps to Percy, who worked next to him and understood the Ministry business better than any of his other children and Ginny was always his little princess. But not Ron, never Ron. All he ever got from Ron were an inch-deep wrinkles on his forehead from his deadly adventures and though Ron was sure his dad loved him no less than the rest of his offspring – he wasn’t completely sure of Arthur’s capacity to understand and accept something as foreign as relationship between two men. Especially so if one of the pair was his own child and another was a Malfoy.
If anything could diminish his chances of finding understanding with his dad, this was a sure thing. Dad despised the Malfoys. And honestly, Ron had no idea how to make him welcome the son of Lucius Malfoy into their family. Perhaps if he had more time, he would be able to devise a strategy, introduce the idea slowly, but Harry had been clever: making the whole thing blow up into their faces so suddenly robbed Ron of any manoeuvring space to do this properly. But that as sure as hell didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to try. Not in the least because his chosen one was a Malfoy. This meant trouble.
He did not had time to discuss this with Draco yet, but he knew that if chances of being accepted by his family were slim, the chances of finding understanding for their relationship with the Malfoys were non- existent. Lucius Malfoy was a vicious person who hardly stopped at anything and if it meant protecting his own flesh and blood as well as the reputation of the Malfoy family from what he would surely see as the ultimate disgrace - he would most likely be going for a kill. Possibly literally. And if Ron’s family was to renounce him… they’d have no one to turn to. Harry was… he was not used to having Harry as his adversary, this was just… it wasn’t right. But he was not going to be on his side, not this time, that much was sure. And if Draco couldn’t make peace with Hermione… as tempted as he was to go and see how that particular confrontation went, he knew he needed to keep his focus and his wits about, so he decided against it. If Hermione wasn’t ready to back them up, he didn’t need to know that now. It would only make him more edgy.
So as it was, he was pretty desperate to patch things up with his family. He had let this wound fester for far too long and perhaps now, it would be too late… He missed them like crazy. He missed his mother’s delicious comfort cooking and caring scolding, George’s breakfast pranks and the enthusiastic slightly mad look on dad’s face when he showed up with yet another Muggle device he knew no purpose for and he couldn’t wait to put apart and modify. Fuck, he even missed the trashing about of the ghoul on the attic and de-gnoming a garden was a damn good exercise! He longed to show Draco his orange room that will surely call for emergency resuscitation of the sophisticated youth – he wouldn’t mind some good old mouth-to-mouth right about now – and perhaps they could enlarge the bed a little and see if it could take their double weight…
He was daydreaming now, he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t imagine not having his family to back him up, no Sunday lunches to look forward to (or to avoid), no Howlers telling him someone cared, no pranks and teasing and brotherly fights. Well, at least knew he could count on Bill, though his oldest brother had almost choked over a scone when he told him Malfoy and him were not just one night fuck-buddies. And he had Charlie, he always had Charlie. Even the thought of his older brother with his quiet adamant attitude, so much like his dad’s, made him smile. Perhaps there was hope after all. If anyone could stand up to whatever the world had in store for him and his man – god, it still felt surreal to call Draco Malfoy his own! – if anyone could, it was his family. And Lucius Malfoy, with all his evil intentions and devious means would find a worthy opponent in his father. Arthur knew him inside out, he was used to his vicious merciless style of actions and if anyone had the means and knowledge to ruthlessly curb the anger of one Lucius Malfoy it was his dad. He’d be glad to do it, actually. If only he could make him understand…
So far he didn’t have much of a plan. He already knew it would probably come down to his dad. And it’s going to be a hard sell. Anyone would have been a hard sell, even Harry – but Harry didn’t choose him, Malfoy did. And Malfoy it was going to be. Even if it meant no more Sunday lunches, neurotic ghuls and firecrackers in the morning coffee. The blond risked everything, he gave his all and Ron wasn’t going to let him down. He had nothing left without Draco. With him, he could have it all. And if his family really cared for him, they would understand. Suddenly his head was clear and the nervousness gone. He had already made his decision, he just needed to break it to his parents. What happens from that point on, will not be up to him anymore. It will be like flashing a Horcrux in their faces – he hoped they can conquer it, just like he once had to. He had chosen the right way all those years ago, he had overcome his biggest weaknesses and he came out on the other side cleaned by the fire of envy, resentment and insecurity. It had made him a man he was today. Perhaps his family can come out stronger as well. If not… he still had his man.
Even the thought of Draco, of his dreamy morning smile, of the silver eyes, suddenly laced with awe when he realized who he woke up with and then of those perfect white limbs, stubbornly wrapped up around him, unwilling to let him go just to get some last minute cuddling –those thoughts were enough to stretch his lips into a conquering smile. Yes, he had his man now and what a man it was! He was just perfect, he was…
“Ron?” A soot covered image of Bill from the fireplace broke through his reveries and the redhead instantly sobered. That was it, then. He hoped he could do this right. He had missed them and right now he needed them. They can’t reject him because of love, he won’t let them.
~ End of Part 11/1 ~
Next: ( Choices, Part 11/2 )
See also:
( Choices, Part 1 )
( Choices, Part 2 )
( Choices, Part 3 )
( Choices, Part 4 )
( Choices, Part 5/1 )
( Choices, Part 5/2 )
( Choices, Part 6 )
( Choices, Part 7 )
( Choices, Part 8/1 )
( Choices, Part 8/2 )
( Choices, Part 9 )
( Choices, Part 10/1 )
( Choices, Part 10/2 )
