Fic: Art of denial (Part 8)

[my_thestral]

Author's note: Writing just doesn't go as fast as I want it to, but considering I have a full-time job, I suppose it's fast enough. This chapter was completely unplanned, from beginning to end, it just sort of inserted itself from god-knows where. Yeah, these things happen when you write (shrugs)
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Word count: 3753 (this part)
Rating: NC-17-ish, for sexual innuendo, I guess
Disclaimer: Not my characters (duly hands them over to their rightful owner). There's no financial benefit in it for me, just joy to create something :)

On Monday they met at Chief Kingsley’s office. Ron arrived first, sporting a shiny golden band around his finger, and Draco… Draco liked to be fashionably late. Which was just as well, Kingsley had a thing or two to say to Ron Weasley in private.

“That was some wedding, son,” he said kindly and added: “Congratulations, of course! Hermione made a  stunning bride and I hope you two will be very happy together! I was in the army of guests, but so was the rest of the wizarding Britain, so I suppose you wouldn’t have remembered me even if I got around to actually giving you my best wishes. And please give my compliments to Molly – I did know it was possible to throw a reception this size in so short a time. But I suppose she was ready to outdo herself for the occasion of giving her youngest son away.”

“And don’t forget Harry’s engagement to Ginny,” Ron mumbled to himself and shifted uncomfortably. This was another affair that made him feel off and as if he had by mistake set a foot in a dimension where everything was a bit sideways. Harry was absolutely cornered. Once Ginny found out he had gotten so drunk he actually kissed Ron – again! – she threw a fit that made the Death Eaters’ raid look like a toddlers’ walk in the park. And in the end Harry Potter, the Saviour of the wizarding world, found himself hiding with Ron behind one of the big shabby sofas in the Burrow, with hexes flying at them if one of them as much as showed a hair. He looked at Ron almost in despair:

“She’s really pissed off this time, mate. What the hell am I supposed to do? If only Hermione was here, she wouldn’t let her kill her future husbandand her best friend!”

And Ron, who couldn’t help but to find the situation at least a bit comical, shrugged in a mixture of amusement and annoyance: “Well… there isone thing… you could always ask her.”

When he saw the complete lack of understanding in his best mate’s eyes, he clarified: “Ask her to marry you, you git. You’ve been delaying long enough; no wonder she thinks you’re not serious. Might as well do it, we’ll both be married men, share the misery and all that rot. Besides, she’s not likely to off her own groom either, is she?”

And Harry just stared at him with the most incomprehensible look in those legendary green eyes and he said quietly: “And you’re OK with that?”

And Ron shrugged once more: “Yeah… I guess. I’ve long ago come to terms that eventually she’s going to choose someone which I won’t be allowed to hate and if it’s you, mate – I know you’re this really terrible person and a proper twat – but I think she could do a lot worse than you. Plus she’s head over heels about you, so… yeah, I guess you have my blessing, you ponce.”

And Harry just stared at him with those unfathomable eyes and for some reason looked as if something inside him crumbled: “So… we’ll be family, yeah?” he finally managed and Ron hugged him and locked him into one of his notorious bear hugs and quietly kissed him on the brow: “We’re already family, Harry. It’ll just be on the paper from now on.”

“I love you, Ron,” Harry Potter whispered into his neck and the redhead mussed his impossible hair some more and said without a much of a thought: “I love you, too, Potter. Now, don’t go all sappy on me and get us out of this mess, you’re supposed to be this really cool Saviour and shit. C’mon, let’s see what you’re worth!”

And Harry Potter wiped away the few drops of moisture from his long jet-black eyelashes that he didn’t want anyone to see and yelled: “Oy… Ginny!”

“Don’t even bother, Harry Potter! Don’t.Even.Bother!!! I’ve had it with your excuses; I’ve had it with your antics! If it’s my brother you want…”

“For God’s sake woman…!!! Ginevra Molly Weasley, will you marry me?!”

“I’ve had it with your lies, I’ve had it with your… what??!” And in the total silence that ensued, the sound of a wand that clattered to the ground was impossible to miss.

“Time for action, mate! It’s now or never, this is our window of opportunity, hurry up, before she picks up her brain from the ground,” whispered the redhead frantically, unable to hide how much fun he was having. “Good luck,” he added and leaned in to kiss the raven-haired youth on the cheek, because Harry just liked this sort of thing. But the second before Ron’s lips touched his cheek, Harry Potter turned his face and caught his lips full on. There was nothing innocent about the kiss they shared and Ron’s eyes got all big and impossibly blue when he realized what Harry was doing. He broke the kiss somewhat forcefully and stared at his best-mate panting and Harry Potter repeated with fire in his quiet voice: “I loveyou… Ron.”

Then without a warning he jumped over the sofa and went on one knee in front of Ron’s sister: “Will you have my hand in marriage, Ginny? I know I didn’t bring a ring and all that… this was a bit… uhm, unexpected, but I’ll get you one, a proper one and I’d really like you to have me, so…”

“Yes!” breathed the redheaded beauty. “Yes, Harry, yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!! Oh, my god… sweet Merlin I can’t believe this is happening! Are we really getting married?! Are we?!”

And Harry Potter got up from his knee and hugged the suddenly teary girl fiercely and said with genuine warmth: “Not more than a year from now, hon. And we’ll be a proper family soon.” And his green eyes wondered towards Ron, who just stared at him with a distinct feeling that he just made his best friend do the right thing for all the wrong reasons.

His musings were interrupted by Chief Kingsley’s unusually quiet voice: “Yes… Harry Potter. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

He shifted in his chair rather uncomfortably because there was no elegant way to say this, but there was no way around it either: “You see the thing is, son… you’re no good for Potter.”

When he saw the complete lack of understanding in Ron’s eyes, he elaborated: “He gets all crazy and protective and… well, you saw it, a little bit irrational around you… Bloody hell, Ron, you saw how he reacted the other day… that’s no way to treat a colleague, even if it is the annoying menace by the name of Draco Malfoy. And you two being joined at the hip the way you are… it’s not… proper… people talk…”

He looked at him pointedly, hoping the redhead would understand his words the way they were meant, but Ron looked at his boots, suddenly the colour of ripe tomato and then looked up and straight at him stubbornly: “We’re just friends. I love the man like a brother; he’s marrying my sister, for god’s sake! We’ve been best mates forever! People are always going to talk, let them. We’re nothing but friends… just best mates,” he said defiantly, as if he needed to hear it out loud to believe it.

“Of course you are,” said Chief Kingsley hastily, suddenly acutely aware that he could achieve nothing by complicating the matter further. “But you must understand - I need my Aurors at the top of their capabilities, not distracted - so this is what we’re going to do: I’m promoting Harry to Head Auror and you are due for a promotion to Senior Auror, effective as soon as you return from your honeymoon. And as such, you are going to be assigned a new partner.”

But Ron just stared at him with complete lack of comprehension and one could almost see the beginnings of a tantrum forming: “But I’ve never worked with anyone else than Harry,” he said loudly. “We understand each other with no words, we work like a charm; this is such a wrong thing to do…”

“I believe I will be the judge of that, Mr. Weasley,” said Chief Kinsley firmly, blessing his life-long experience in dealing with the infamous Prewett birth-line. “Last time I checked, I was still the head of this department and you will do as I say. Now, there is this new programme of improving efficiency… oh, good Mr. Malfoy, do come in, tardy as you are. I was just explaining Mr. Weasley here why I was pairing him with you.”

A herd of mammoths on steroids could easily pass through Ron Weasley’s mouth, but Draco Malfoy simply froze.

“Why?” he said finally, his voice apprehensive as if he couldn’t understand why would someone who had no reason to come to his rescue, throw him a life-line when he was drowning.

“Well, as I was about to explain for Mr. Weasley here when you – at long last - decided to join us – we have this new programme of improving efficiency of our investigative squads on the field – designed by your wife, by the way, Mr. Weasley, so you know it’s rather genius – and it has been brought to our attention that due to the high-risk jobs our Aurors are doing over 65 per cent end up requiring one type of medical attention or another – daily! This is of course an alarming number and a lot of grave injuries and long-term effects of curses could have been avoided or at least alleviated should there be a Healer present on site promptly.

Now, Mr. Malfoy here has demonstrated quite successfully, that he is more than capable and somewhat talented, while his… unorthodox life-path has equipped him with a set of skills other Healers are unlikely to have.” In short – Draco could identify and counter dark spells and hexes most other Healers have never even heard of before. The blond was impressed almost against his own will. Of course he wasn’t going to share this. So he merely raised one of his eyebrows and asked pointedly:

“So why Weasley?”

“Because, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley here has been a target of the attacks more than any other Auror in this department – mainly because of him interfering with the path of curses meant for the reckless Mr. Potter. I wasn’t kidding when I told you that his mother will hang my head on the wall if she has to go and visit him at St. Mungo’s again. Mr. Weasley here is a high-value target for the criminals as well as a high-value employee and due for promotion to Senior Auror after he returns from his honeymoon. As such he will be entitled to protection on the field and since I’m promoting Mr. Potter to Head Auror…”

“You are sticking Potter with an office job?!” Draco asked incredulously and he couldn’t stop his shoulder from shaking in laughter. “Call it what you want, he will know what it is. And he will decline.”

“Mr. Potter has no choice,” Chief Kingsley informed him coldly. “His actions towards you – yes, I did my investigative work well, Mr. Malfoy, I know who the hex was really meant for! – well, those actions were reckless and uncalled for and he can call himself lucky to stay in the employ of this Ministry, let alone be promoted!” Kingsley boomed. “As it is, I can hardly fire a Saviour, but I can remove him from the field – if only temporary and partially – and I will.

So – I would hereby like your answer and I would like one now, if you please. Are you willing to accept your assignment as partners on the field; put your differences aside and learn to work together in the benefit of this Ministry and the rest of the wizarding community? And I warn you, gentlemen – if you two accept today, I do not wish to hear a single word of your disputes, let alone duels, or – god forbid! - brawls ever again. I believe you two have already set a life-time worth of bad examples to our junior employees! Whatever problems you have, I expect you to settle them off the Ministry premises and outside the Ministry working time. However, if you refuse…”

“I accept,” said Ron Weasley unexpectedly and his eyes shone with blue brilliance like sapphires. “We’ll be fine. We’ll work it out. We’re can be professional… can’t we, Malfoy?”

“Well… yes… I suppose,” mumbled Draco, because he had a reputation to uphold and it wouldn’t do to hug Chief Kingsley and kiss him soundly.

“Well, that’s settled, then.” Kingsley Shacklebolt got up energetically from behind his table and offered his huge hand first to Ron and then to Draco. “You’ll start once Mr. Weasley here returns from his honeymoon; that is to say in two weeks time. If there is still something that is bothering you about this arrangement, I expect you to come to terms with it by then. Goodbye, gentlemen and let me not hear of any of your excesses again… for a very long time… preferably not ever again.”

He watched them leave and once the door clicked behind them he couldn’t help the big smile spreading across his face and if he was the type to congratulate himself on a job well done, he would have done it now.

A goal he had long ago set for himself has finally been achieved: Harry Potter would be kept safe. It simply wouldn’t do for the Saviour to die in the world he fought so hard for because of his misplaced sense for adventure and lack of self-preservation. As long as he was alive and working for the Ministry, they could do nothing wrong. Besides, he was being promoted to the one position he could not take Weasley with him and it was about time these two split. He had spoken the truth to Ron – he was no good for him. He brought out the wildest and the most unpredictable emotions in Harry Potter and the Ministry needed to make sure the legendary young man did not set an unwelcome example of taking his affections in… undesired direction. It would not do well for the diminishing wizarding community to have men paired with men that way.

But with Potter engaged to Ginny Weasley everything was going to change now and hopefully, for the better. There will be a marriage first and if the proverbial Weasley prowess for procreation held with their daughter, they had nothing to fear for – there will be children a plenty. Harry Potter will soon be a married man, a father, a pillar of the post-war community. Not a childless ex-war hero fighting the petty scum, refusing to take his proper role in the wizarding world because he was head over heels in love with his male best friend. They couldn’t have that.

And it was not like Ron Weasley wanted Potter that way anyway... which was something he could not say about Draco Malfoy. He couldn’t believe he let it slip right by him for so long - once he took a good hard look, he had honestly never seen two people more… infatuated with one another. Their animosity certainly was a good cover, but he saw Weasley look at Malfoy the other day and his eyes shone like diamonds and Malfoy... Malfoy just had this obsessed hungry look in those distinguished silver eyes that practically screamed “Don’t touch my man!” – and there really wasn’t much more to say.

And – what a pair they were! Ron Weasley with his unusual talent for wandless magic, excellent strategist and absolutely fearless – and Draco Malfoy, cold as ice, focused even under the gravest of circumstances when he was forced to fight for the life of the man he clearly adored. They will be invincible together and he was certain Molly Weasley was off his back for good – Malfoys protected what was theirs fiercely. Chief Kingsley had no doubt they will be most effective and if they got a bit of fun on the side – who was to blame them? It’s not like a Malfoy would ever publicly own up to a relationship with a Weasley, a male Weasley, even! While that danger was acutely present with Potter, Chief Kinsgley was fairly certain that he had nothing to fear in that department.

Yes, it was all very well done indeed.

~

They were sitting in a Ministry diner, quiet, submerged in their own thoughts, each holding a cup of hot liquid between their fingers, for the first time with a legitimate excuse to be seen in each other’s company.

Ron was worrying his bottom lip with those perfect white teeth and Draco had to look away with a knot in his throat and a miserable thought in his head that the redhead seemed none too happy about the arrangement. Perhaps this was not a good idea after all, though it had warmed him all the way down to the bones when he first considered the possibility. His train of thoughts was interrupted by a soft chuckle and when he looked at Ron again, he saw those blue eyes focused on him and the amusement in them was unmistakable.

“Bloody hell...” he said in a raspy voice. “I’d pay good money to see how Harry’s going to take the news...” He paused a little and said: “Are you OK with this... with us? I mean, I know I said yes and all, cause it was like a dream come true for me, but if you don’t want it...”

“Weasley, don’t be absurd!” Draco interrupted, because he needed to say something harsh and do it quickly, before he snogged him stupid and spilled how ridiculously happy he was. Malfoys didn’t do  happy, least of all not the ridiculous variety of it, so this was the only way, really. “Of course I’m content! I wouldn’t have said yes, if I was not in favour of this... arrangement. Kingsley had us cornered anyway and... “ when he saw the joy in those blue eyes begin to fade, he leaned forward and asked in a hushed voice:

“Do you really think I’m daft enough to pass up on opportunity to get a hold of that magnificent arse of yours? As in, every day? The very thought leaves me hard in my pants, Weasley...” He closed his eyes for a moment as if he was revelling in the very thought of it and mouthed in a soft voice:  “In fact... I might be hard, impossibly... excruciatingly hard right now... this very moment, hard and aching... and no Thursday for me, you’ll be gone for a fortnight... so you’ve got me now, Weasley... Ron... what are you going to do about it?”

But Ron could play this game as well. He merely leaned in closer with narrowed eyes; brilliant blue ponds shining through the long silken eyelashes naughtily, and murmured: “Oh, I don’t know... how about I leave you like this and see how long you can take it before you beg me for it?” And when he saw a shimmer of light flash at the bottom of those silver eyes, he just smiled most beatifically and added softly:

“Or… I suppose we could take advantage of my day off and apparate to our flat and I’d go down on my knees for you, Malfoy... suck on that wonderful piece of hard... smouldering hot wood you have in your pants, until you’re stuttering my name, cause you can’t remember your own... I’ll let you paint my face with your come, love... And I’ve got a whole day off, you know... I don’t know what to do with a whole day off for packing; I’m done in half an hour, so if you’re in any way interested in sealing this lovely agreement we have here with some long slow fucking...”

“Goddfuckingdamnyouweasley,” Draco blurted, cheeks flushed and eyes fixed on that lovely mouth in front of him, whispering obscenities. “You’re lucky I don’t make you go down on your knees right here, in front of everybody, you bloody foul-mouthed perv....”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby... Show the whole world that wonderful long angry prick bulging against your pants... pressing so hard... wanting the release so badly... I’d bury my face in your lap and eat you slowly, for everyone to see... to hear you give those delicious short screams of surrender... and my name... would you like to scream my name for everyone to hear, Draco... should I make you...?”

As casually as possible his hand crept up Draco’s thigh where the thumb drew a small tempting circle and drove the blond completely out of control.

“Ron... please... oh, goddamn you, please don’t... not here... anywhere... our place... our place in 15 minutes, let me just get to the floo... ofmotheroffuckinggod, how am I suppose to move now, with this between my legs...?!”

“Your problem, not mine, you started it,” shrugged the redhead with glee and mischief still set deep in those mesmerising blue eyes and slipped from behind the table to stand up. He stretched his body with abandon; robes open down the middle and his favourite autographed Chuddley Cannons t-shirt hugging every taut muscle like a second skin - and looked at the miserable blond with a small sexy smile: “15 it is... Don’t make me come back for you... or I’ll lick you clean in front of all these people....” he  whispered in a low dangerous voice and it was all Draco Malfoy could do not to come on the spot.

“ He doesn’t mean it... he can’t mean it,” he told himself time and time again, but Weasley was mad and dangerous and up to fucking anything, Draco would not put it beyond him to... Merlin, he shouldn’t be thinking about it, he shouldn’t be... So it was that Draco Malfoy took off the top of his robes and carried them in front of him, making sure they covered all the more... prominent and embarrassing parts of him all the way to the floo. And it was all worth it when there was a very naked Ron Weasley sprawled on their bed with a big ginger cat smile on his pretty face and Draco could drop everything, his coat, his pretence and everything that was holding him back and together. And just jump him.

~ End of Part 8 ~

Next: Art of denial (9): To give some, to take some away
See also:
Art of Denial (1): It's been 20 years...
Art of denial (2): First time
Art of denial (3): Some First time... some Second time...
Art of denial (4): Still second time... and time again...
Art of denial (5): Milestones
Art of denial (6): Of hearts and bonds
Art of denial (7): Cracked open and oozing true feelings