Penname: Page of Cups

Email: [email protected]

Title:  Everything Changes

Pairing:  Ron Weasley/Draco Malfoy

Rating: R

Summary: Wherein things come to a conclusion

Disclaimer:  My New Year's Resolution was to become J.K. Rowling, own Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros., and all other industries that own a slice of the Harry Potter pie so that I can become all-powerful and dominate the world!  Mwa ha ha ha ha!  Er – then pink elephants with bright orange polka dots flew by my window and I realized I was dreaming.  Damn.  Still just a broke college student.

 

Chapter Seventeen:  Deliver Me From Evil

As anticipated, the Death Eater initiation ceremony started promptly at eleven-thirty.  Many cloaked figures made circles around the fledglings, which consisted of Draco, Goyle, and three other boys that Draco knew went to Durmstrang.  The Dark Lord was greeting the Death Eaters who had already arrived, and one Death Eater directed the fledglings to a spot in the center of the circle.  Just beyond where they stood, he could make out figures of the Aurors and Ministry officials who were here to try and take out as many as possible.  On the other side, several meters away, Draco made out five wooden crosses in the distance.  Sitting before them was a construction that looked something like an altar.  His head was pounding as the ceremony started.

Draco felt very out of place, kneeling before Voldemort with the other fledglings.  Without the customary robes that the other Death Eaters were wearing, Draco felt strangely naked, despite his many layers of robes.  Trying to remember the course of the ceremony, Draco instructed himself to stay calm until the battle would break.  He was confused, scared, and tried to keep his breath even when Voldemort stepped before him.

"Young Mister Malfoy, we didn't think you were going to show."

Draco remained silent, remembering that fledglings were not supposed to speak unless commanded to. His silence must have pleased Voldemort, because there was no reprimanding like there had been for the first boy.  Keeping his head tilted toward the ground and his eyes averted, Draco bit back the sobs threatening to escape his throat.  He willed his legs to stay still, no matter how badly they wanted to tear through the circle and take Ron into his arms.  Voldemort gave a sharp rasp to his shoulder and titled his chin upward, causing Draco to stare into two hollow, red eyes.

"Your father seemed to think that you weren't as loyal as you want us to believe.  You're going to prove your loyalty tonight, aren't you?"

Draco pressed his lips together, remaining silent.  Voldemort's lips turned into a horrible sort of grin that made Draco feel as if his insides had gone rotten.

"You know your place," he said, sounding pleased.  "You may answer.  You're going to prove your loyalty tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes, my lord," said Draco, bending over to kiss the hem of his robes.  The steady tone of his voice exuded a confidence that Draco didn't even know he had in him.  The horrible grin on Voldemort's face remained, a strange sort of merriment dancing in those blood red eyes.

"We have a very special gift for you," said Voldemort.

Turning around, he pointed his wand in Ron's direction.  The whole world seemed to stop turning as Draco steeled himself, hoping his face looked indifferent.  All previous attempts to stay somber were child's play compared to the mass of nerves Draco had to battle when Ron first screamed out in pain. 

His initial instinct was that Voldemort was cursing him, putting Ron through some form of excruciating pain, but moments later, discovered that all he had done was to pull him out of his enchanted sleep.

Still bound to the cross, Ron's head hung forward, his hair clinging with sweat to his brow.  His body twitched against his binds, a short series of spasms that Ron was too weak to control.  In fact, the first scream had been the most excruciating, because the ones that followed were little more than whimpers.  In the moonlight, Ron's skin had taken on a bluish hue, and his head snapped forward in a violent motion when he dry heaved.  There wasn't anything left in him to vomit up.  Draco was feeling a case of his own nausea.

"Don't worry," said Voldemort, his voice dropping so that only Draco could hear.  "We won't hurt him anymore than he already has been.  That privilege is entirely yours.  Your father has told me all about you and this boy.  It should be a great pleasure for you, and an excellent chance to prove yourself.  Do not disappoint."

He moved on to Goyle, and Draco's mask of indifference faltered only for a moment when Ron broke into dry sobs.  From somewhere in the crowd, there was a sharp intake of oxygen, and Draco wondered if it had belonged to one of the Aurors, Harry, or perhaps even Ron's Death Eater brother.  There wasn't much time to ponder, however, because as Voldemort addressed the fourth boy in line, Ron lifted his head just far enough to take in his surroundings.

Draco watched as his eyes scanned across the other crosses, and the altar from which they were to be sacrificed.  The slightest trace of disgust could be seen on Ron's lips as he moved his gaze to the Death Eaters, and he paled considerably when he caught Voldemort's voice.  From there, he went to the third most obvious spot in the crowd, the five boys who were not wearing masks and Death Eater hoods.  Never had Draco wanted to die as much as he did when his eyes first connected with Ron's, and the latter broke into pained cries.

If Ron's whimpering and wailing bothered Voldemort, he never showed it.  Rather, Draco thought that the Dark Lord was rather enjoying himself.  There must be nothing quite like the tortured screams of an innocent, especially when more than one person was absorbing pain out of it.  Torn between running to Ron for comfort, and remaining a statue of apathy, Draco fought to keep his face expressionless, looking on Ron with no more than an impassive glance.  He could imagine Potter off to the side, waiting for the attack with the Aurors, and Draco's fingers itched for his wand.  Just wait a little longer, he commanded himself.

The boy to his left went first.  A Muggle woman, who was bound on the cross next to Ron, was released, and the boy's father carried her to the alter.  Ron, still bound, was helpless to do anything but listen and look as she was tortured with Imperius, and forced to mutilate her own body.  Her cries were deafening when the boy performed Cruciatus with admirable accuracy.  Then came the rape, the most horrible part of the entire ceremony in Draco's mind.  Like Ron, he was forced to watch, but unlike Ron, who was whimpering as much as the woman, Draco remained unmoved.

As he watched the woman suffer, Draco wished they could alter the course of action, and just stop things where they were before she could die.  A sympathetic part of his mind, however, thought that it had gone too far, and it was cruel to allow her to live.  Besides, to attack now would be futile.  Ron would die anyway, and Draco was still in the center of countless Death Eaters, all equipped with wands, at a position that the Auror in charge wouldn't be able to follow his lead.

Following Voldemort's orders, the boy ended his performance with the woman's murder, and her body was left lifeless as he rejoined the circle.  Receiving praises from the Dark Lord, Draco couldn't help but stare as the Dark Mark was burned into the boy's arm.  A hideous combination of serpent and skull, Draco could only think of Ron's version that had been tattooed on his own forearm this morning.  That bright purple hair did give it something extra.

"Draco Malfoy."

Voldemort's call yanked him from his reverie, and Draco forced his legs to stay still when he stood.  Keeping his chin raised, his head held high, Draco watched as a Death Eater (his father, he presumed) from the crowd moved forward, and removed Ron from his cross.  He was carried to the altar, and laid out upon it, looking very much of the part of the sacrifice that, in all reality, he was meant to be.

Ron lay perfectly still on the altar, his chest heaving with every breath taken.  His head had rotated to the side, his cheek laying flat against the wooden dais.  Their eyes connected as the Death Eater returned to his spot in the circle, and it was Draco who now began to move.  With every step he took, he reminded himself to keep his composure.  Every fear that must have been in Ron's heart was forcing its way into Draco's.  He could hardly remember to keep his shoulders squared, or his head held erect, as he approached.  Countless eyes were focused on his every move, and when Draco reached the clearing, he rounded Ron's body.

"So Harry was right all along," said Ron.  His voice had grown hoarse from the screaming, and he looked like he was going to pass out any moment.  "You were just waiting to hand me over."

Draco didn't wince.  Didn't even acknowledge that Ron had spoken as he slipped his hand into his robes, and wrapped his fingers around the ebony wood of his wand.  It felt powerful in his hands, and Draco had never before realized just how much destruction he could cause with this simple instrument.  This time, he wanted Voldemort to be the one feeling the pain, his father to be the one crying out for mercy.  He wanted Ron avenged.  He tried not to think about what could be going through Ron's mind right now.  Feeling inferior was never something he did very well.

When it all started to happen, it was in complete chaos.  One minute, Draco was staring into the dead weight of Ron's eyes.  They were expecting, waiting for the same treatment that had happened to the Muggle woman.  Resisting the urge to hold him, and promise him that he would never have to feel that kind of pain at Draco's hands, he concentrated on taking deep inhalations.  Ron barely had time to register what was going on before Draco made a sharp, about face turn, and started spitting out protection charms.

As soon as the first syllable left Draco's lips, the Aurors attacked.  Curses flew all around them as Draco undid the binds, startled to find that there were tears in Ron's eyes.  He tried not to acknowledge them, desperately needing something to remain stable.  His charms were fading, and he could briefly hear Potter yelling at him to take Ron and go before one of them got hurt.

"Draco?"

"Don't strain your voice," said Draco.  He sunk his fingers into Ron's hair.  "I'm here."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't you even say that.  I'm sorry."

"Draco -"

"Get him out of here, Malfoy!" said Harry.  Draco could see that the wards were wearing off.

No one else could apparate but the aurors, and they were needed for the battle.  Goyle and Potter both had yet to learn, and that left the task of getting Ron to safety in Draco's hands.  Part of his mind kept hissing at him that he didn't deserve to be so close in Ron's presence when he scooped up Ron in his arms, and it shouted even louder when Ron wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulder.  The screaming of curses, the shouting of hexes, all ebbed away with a single pop.  Only Crabbe seemed to see that Draco and Ron had gone.

They apparated to a point in the Forbidden Forest, which was just outside of the Hogwarts wards, and Draco had known about specifically for this purpose.  Not exactly getting away Ron, but in the off chance that he would need to escape the Death Eaters, he and Goyle had discovered this point last year.  Crabbe had been with them at the time, so he supposed that he shouldn't have been too terribly surprised when he flew forward through his courtesy.

"Means nothing to you, does he?" said Crabbe.

Ron flew from Draco's arms at the sudden shove of inertia, and landed face down.  He had been struggling to get up, but his arms were sore and weak from the binding.  Kicking him in the side, Crabbe sneered at him, and dug the heel of his foot into Ron's back.

"Don't do that to him," said Draco, wiping away a sliver of blood that was trailing from the corner of his mouth.  Just another result of Crabbe's little love tap.

"But you were just using him, Malfoy.  You just wanted to rid him of his innocence.  Break his heart.  Isn't that what you told me?"

"Leave him alone.  He didn't do anything to you."

Draco inhaled deeply, hoping that Crabbe didn't just see Ron vomit up blood.

"But this is your chance.  Your last one to destroy Weasley like you've been telling me you so desire."

"What do you want to hear?  That I don't want to hurt him?  That I love him?  What's wrong with that?"

"He's a Weasley, Draco.  Have you no shame?"

"I don't care if he's a Weasley.  If this life is my alternative, I'll take Weasley.  I'd take him even if it wasn't my alternative.  I just royally fucked up my life today.  Can't you just at least leave him be?"

Crabbe removed his foot from Ron's back, stepping aside.  He gestured in the direction of Hogwarts with his hand, sneering.

"Be my guest.  Get him out of my sight.  Just be careful about where you fall asleep tonight."

Draco paid him no attention as he hooked his arms around Ron, and hoisted him up to cradle against his chest.  Ron's head hung limply over Draco's forearm.  The fall, or perhaps the rate at which he was losing blood mixed with his internal bleeding, had sent him into a state of unconsciousness.  His body was shaking with tremors as Draco held him close and ran as fast as he could toward the school.

His feet echoed loudly against the floor when Draco first barged into the main entrance, and the commotion caught the attention of Peeves and the Hogwarts Professors.  Madam Pomfrey bristled at him when he first entered the infirmary, but once she saw the state that Ron was in, she took him away immediately.  He was forced to sit in silence on the opposite side of the room while she worked, and was forbidden to touch him once he was tucked in under crisp, white sheets.  His copper hair was fanned out around his head like a halo, and Draco snuck a kiss when the mediwitch wasn't looking.

~*~

Ron tried to roll over in bed, but several things would not permit this action to be performed.  The first was the excruciating pain in his side and head, shooting pangs through the parts of his body that didn't scream out at him.  This caused several memories of how those injuries had gotten there in the first place, and he remained with his eyes closed, fighting the howl rising in his throat.  Scenes of Malfoy Manor, Narcissa attacking her husband, Lucius binding him once she had gone, and the Death Eater meeting played over and over again.

The second was the giant weight resting on his stomach, which barely shifted when Ron woke.  Cracking open an eye, he was greeted by the sight of Draco's upper body sprawled across his.  He was fast asleep, looking something like an angel with the way his hair was unkempt, and resembling Harry's style.

"Hey," said Harry, while Ron was still looking over Draco.  The voice made him jump, and his hands instantly went to his side, which he found to be bandaged.  "Be careful, mate.  You'll damage yourself more than you already have."

Harry was seated in a chair by his bed, opposite from where Draco was sitting.  When Ron looked to him, he burst into one of his familiar grins that Ron had come to know so well.  It was part relieved, part amused, and made mostly so that no one could see just how nervous he had been before it appeared on his face.  When Harry was looking at a person like that, there was little Ron could do not to grin back at him.

"A few more bruises never hurt anyone," said Ron.

"Might hurt you, though.  You're already a giant bruise yourself.  I should go get Madam Pomfrey.  She wanted us to let her know when you were awake."

"Us?" asked Ron, his eyes moving to Draco.  Harry's relived grin turned into a sheepish one.

"Yeah, well . . . he's not that bad, you know."

"I know.  What happened?"

"Death Eaters."

"I know that much, Harry."

"Right."  Harry scrubbed his fingers through his hair, putting the strands into even more of a disarray.  Ron wouldn't have thought it possible if he wasn't witnessing it just now.  "You see, what happened was that after you and Draco got into that fight . . . he's sorry for that, you know."

"I don't want to talk about that right now.  Draco already told me he was sorry, and he's probably going to say it again when he wakes up.  Don't let me hear it from you, too."

"Right," he repeated.  "Well, he ended up coming around the common room, and he was looking for you.  He was worried, and to tell you the truth, so was I.  It was getting late, and you were upset . . . so, I finally got the map.  We couldn't find you, so we went to Dumbledore, and Draco's mother showed up."

"You're calling him Draco."

Ron thought Harry blushed at the comment.

"The point is, we went to the Manor, but you were gone, and Dra - Malfoy - started freaking out.  It wasn't good.  I don't know.  We really have Goyle to thank.  He went to Dumbledore just after we left and told him all about the meeting.  We wouldn't have been able to get you out of there, or lived ourselves, if it wouldn't have been for the Aurors."

Pulling his eyes from Harry, Ron let them set on Draco.  Curling the tips of his fingers around Draco's hand, Ron clenched his jaw together.  Off to the side, Harry mumbled something about getting Madam Pomfrey, stumbled to his feet, and left the room.

Once Harry had gone, Ron shifted his body up in bed, doing his best not to injure anything further.  Leaning forward, he placed his lips to the apple of Draco's cheek.  Draco shifted in his sleep, just barely pulling back from the warmth of Ron's body.  He brushed his thumb over Draco's jaw line, caressing the skin, and kissed his cheek a second time.  His eyelashes fluttered at the sensation, and Draco opened his eyes.

"You're awake," said Draco.

"You're observant."

"I mean, I know you're awake, but it's just . . . you've been out for a few days, and . . ."

"Draco, be quiet before you hurt yourself."

"How are you?  When did you wake up?  Potter was here, but -"

"Harry went to get Madam Pomfrey.  I haven't been up very long at all.  As for how I am, well, I feel terrible, but that can be overlooked."

"Ron, I -"

"If you're going to say you're sorry about something, please don't."

Draco chanced grinning at Ron as Madam Pomfrey came bustling in.

"Oh, Mister Malfoy, he'll be fine if you aren't by his side every second."

"Every second?" said Ron, arching an eyebrow.  Draco shrugged, laughing nervously, which caused Harry to go into a small fit of snickers.

His eyes never left Draco as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over him, fixed bandages, and shoved potion after potion down his throat.  She was fussing over him, tucking the blankets around his body, and then she was gone.  Harry, Draco, and Ron found themselves in a thick silence, which Harry broke by clearing his throat.

"Right, then.  I'm just going to leave you two alone.  Er - if you need me . . ."  Harry bit his bottom lip, tossed glances between Draco and Ron, then headed for the door.  "When I see you both again, you better be on good terms."

"Good terms?" asked Ron, once the door had shut.  Draco shrugged.

"Recent developments seem to have made Potter crazy.  He finds it wise to hold me in high regards."

"That is crazy."

"Listen, Ron, I know you don't want me to say I'm sorry -"

"No, I really don't."

"But I am.  I . . ."  Draco sighed, crossed the distance between them, and sat on the side of Ron's bed.  "I can't justify what I did to you.  There was no good reason to do what I did.  Clearly I wasn't thinking things through, but I am sorry.  You were right when you said that Anthony fucked me up a lot more than anyone could ever guess."

"I didn't mean -"

"It doesn't matter what you meant.  You were right."  Draco hung his head, fumbling with his fingers.  "I am really messed up, but you've meant everything to me.  I can't take back what I did, and I can't justify it, but I want to try and make it up to you.  Show you what you mean to me."

"I might have a hard time learning to trust you again."

"I can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"If I have to go to the end of the world for you just to prove to you that you can trust me - well, I'd do it.  If I have to go in the middle of a Death Eater ceremony again -"

"You completely terrified me with that."

"I know, but it was my only choice.  I had to make you believe I was against you, just as I had to make my father and Voldemort believe I was on their side.  I love you."

Ron's lips turned into a crooked grin.

"I know.  I love you, too."

"You just don't trust me."

"No, though saving me from Death Eaters did do a little something for you redemption."

"Good to know it wasn't done in vain."

"I think I'll be able to trust you again.  It's just going to take time, and a lot of dedication on your part."

"Anything to get you back."

"Get me back?  Now, Draco, what happened to not believing in relationships?"

"I don't know.  I fell in love with you.  Nothing stays the same when you're in love."

"That was very profound."

"Sod off, Weasley."

Wrapping their fingers together, Draco glanced out of the window.  Bright streaks of the sun were weaving in through the panes, and Draco snuck a peak over to Ron.  They were bouncing off the bright copper of his hair, making Draco grin.

"You do have really red hair."

Ron's face screwed up as he tried not to laugh.  Looking at Draco out of the corner of his eye, he said, "You have really white hair."

"My father says it's because I'm a Malfoy."

"What does that mean?"

Draco shrugged, shaking his head, and laughing.

"I still don't know."

"Fair enough."

Ron cupped Draco's cheek with his palm, leaned forward, and brushed his lips across the corner of Draco's mouth.  Smiling, he settled back into bed, not even noticing the dull throb in his side, something that may be attributed to Madam Pomfrey's medications.  His attention was turned back outside the window, Draco's eyes soon followed, and for that moment in time, everything was perfect.

Finish

What can I say?  It's over.  Thanks for coming along with me.  It's been fun.

I do not write sequels on demand, and I do not see a sequel for this one.  My new story, The Prophecy of Absconditus, will be up soon.  Keep your eyes peeled for it, especially if you liked this one.

Love you all.  Keep in touch.

~Erin