This is my first attempt at RonXDraco! I've recently become obsessed with this pairing, so I hope I do them justice.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter, and am not afflilated in any way with the author or the publishing company. In case that needed to be cleared up.

Also, this format is not mine. I got the format from Diluted Thoughts' 20 Facts: Light & Sayu. Great story--if you're not afraid of those two being a pairing, look it up!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Careless Whispers: 20 Facts about Ron and Draco

1. Flash

When Ron looks back to his first day at Hogwarts, it isn't the grandeur of the school itself that immediately comes to mind. It isn't Platform 9¾ or the train ride, or even the Sorting Hat, the hordes of students, or the nervous anticipation that gave his heart a rush at the thought of becoming a real wizard.

Even the memory of meeting Harry and Hermione for the first time seems to come second to that flash of blond hair and that cold, arrogant sneer.

2. Pink

By his third year at Hogwarts, Draco had come to realize that insulting Potter wasn't going to get him anywhere. It was hopelessly immature, and honestly, he had much better things to do. Even calling Granger a mudblood was beneath him and, in essence, a complete waste of his time.

But he'd keep at it. He'd keep mocking Potter's false superiority, keep demeaning Granger for her foul blood, and hurl at them any insult and jeer he could think of, if only to see that furious shade of pink reach the top of Weasley's ears.

3. Jealous

Ron had always been rather jealous of his best friend. Why shouldn't he be? He was Harry Potter—he didn't have to worry about money, or about hand-me-down robes and second-hand spellbooks. The whole of the wizarding world knew his name; he was smart, and brave, selfless and determined—everything that Ron had always wished that he could be. Harry quite literally had everything going for him.

Even the fact that Malfoy reserved his most scathing remarks for Harry were enough to make that monster of envy rear its ugly head in Ron's heart.

4. Touch

Draco wasn't a hands-on person. It didn't fit with proper Malfoy behavior. When fighting, he'd opt to hex someone rather than punching them in the face. He wasn't a barbarian, after all, and he'd find any excuse he could to avoid touching people—or worse, people touching him.

But for some reason, whenever he saw Weasley approaching, Draco would always make sure to walk close enough so that their shoulders brushed when he passed by.

5. Guilt

Ron had quite honestly made the valiant effort to savor every moment of Malfoy's punishment from Moody in fourth year. The sight of that furry white ferret bouncing up and down in the air, crashing against the floor, and going airborne again was permanently fixed in his memory—it was glorious leverage.

But even with that hilarious show, Ron couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of guilt for laughing when he saw Malfoy's wince of pain and the way he staggered out of the Great Hall.

6. Dance

Draco didn't enjoy the Yule Ball. It was, in fact, a rather safe assumption to say that he hated it—the music was too loud and cheerful for his taste, there were too many people, much too much Potter, and most of the evening, Pansy clung to his left arm so tightly that he began to lose feeling in it.

Weasley looked just as miserable. Draco saw him and Potter sitting alone on the sidelines—both apparently so incompetent, their dates had found something better to do. Draco promptly cast them a sneer before walking off to join the fray of students gathered around The Weird Sisters.

It took an hour of Pansy's whining, five turns with five different Beuxbatons girls, and more than his fair share of spiked pumpkin juice just to ignore that awful thought he had of asking Weasley to dance.

7. Fancy

Ron fancied Hermione. Of this, he was absolutely sure…wasn't he? He supposed he was, because it made so much resounding sense that it came like a slap to the face. It was in October of fifth year that he came to the realization, wandering the halls after hours before he finally decided to go back to the Gryffindor common room.

On his way to the seventh floor, he spotted Malfoy snogging Michael Corner in an empty corridor.

As he ascended the first flight of stairs that he could find, Ron quite solidly decided that, yes, he did fancy Hermione. He repeated the notion to himself over and over again, as if it alone could erase that harrowing image of Michael's tongue sliding into Malfoy's mouth.

8. Dress

Weasley really didn't know how to dress. All the clothing he owned consisted of awful hand-me-downs—shabby robes, ill-fitting trousers, and horrendous maroon Weasley jumpers—not to mention those ancient dress robes from fourth year.

It took every ounce of Draco's willpower not to forget his place and buy Weasley a whole new wardrobe, just so he'd feel a bit better about his habit of staring after the ill-dressed redhead.

9. Kiss

Malfoy had kissed him once. Just once—and it wasn't even a real kiss, as Ron often assured himself. Ron hadn't been looking where he was going late one night, and he happened to run into Malfoy. After eloquently telling Malfoy to bugger off, he somehow noticed the small sprig of mistletoe that loomed overhead.

Malfoy joined Ron's gaze, laughed, and grabbed Ron's shoulders when he tried to escape. "Not so fast, Weasley," he'd hissed, Ron trying to break from his hold. "Don't you want to know what class and greatness taste like?" And he had pressed his mouth harshly against Ron's.

The kiss ended just as abruptly as it had begun, and before Ron could say anything, Malfoy sauntered off, laughing. Ron stormed back to the common room, face turning red, mouth pressed in a thin line so that he could feel something—anything—but the softness of Malfoy's lips on his own.

10. Almost

Of course, it was Draco who wrote the infamous ditty, "Weasley is Our King". It was really quite catchy: four hours after he first wrote it and shared it with Crabbe and Goyle, the whole of Slytherin knew it by heart.

When he saw Weasley stalk off the Quidditch pitch, tears and humiliation staining his blue eyes, Draco almost stood up in the stands and forced the Slytherins to stop singing.

But there were images to keep up, and priorities to keep straight, and "almost" just wasn't good enough.

11. True

It wasn't as if Ron thought that Harry was lying when he'd suggested that Malfoy was a Death Eater. Ron knew his friend well enough to know that he was being completely serious. And if Harry was so serious about it, then why shouldn't Ron believe it? Who was he not to listen to his best mate?

It was just this small part of Ron—however sick and demented it was—that had to believe, had to pray that it wasn't true.

12. Hate

Draco had always hated Lavender Brown, if only on sheer principle. She was a Gryffindor, for starters, and in six years, she had never learned how to keep her fat mouth shut. Besides, she was impossibly dim, and her habit of hanging off Weasley's arm was absolutely sickening.

Draco especially hated Granger, and that hatred had only seemed to fester over the years. Granger, the mudblood. Granger, the "brightest witch of the century". Granger, the oblivious apple of Weasley's eye.

If he had to single out one person, though, Draco supposed he hated himself most of all, for repetitively hoping that one day, Weasley might look at him like that.

13. Comfort

When the Snatchers drug him, Harry, and Hermione to Malfoy Manor, Ron couldn't help but to notice just how…how awful Malfoy looked. His cheekbones were sallow, his hair had lost its trademark shine, dark circles haunted the underside of his eyes, and his alabaster skin was positively grey.

Looking back on it, it was enough to make Ron snort. Really. They were about to be thrown to Voldemort's feet for a fate worse than death, and Ron concerned himself with Malfoy's appearance.

But, somehow, for a reason that Ron couldn't get through his own thick skull, he wanted to approach Malfoy, and not that Malfoy would ever let him, but Ron had never wanted to take someone in his arms and comfort them so much in his life.

14. Falling

Draco's life seventh year was hell, and the Easter Holiday was rooted in the ninth circle. More threats, more malignant glares from the hostile residents of the Manor, the cold disapproval of his own father… It was all too much to take.

And like clockwork, Potter and friends had to show up. And Aunt Bella had to torture Granger. And the rest of them had to send him down seize the goblin for questioning. When he arrived at the dungeons, wand shaking wildly in his hand, he was already on the brink of crying, armed with the knowledge of what the Death Eaters would do to him should he fail this time…

And after he took away the goblin, and heard Weasley's strained, desperate screams for Granger, Draco turned his back to his family and pretended that he was okay. But as those screams went on, muffled from the floor, Draco couldn't force himself stop a single tear from falling.

15. Ungrateful

To tell the truth, Ron was quite glad that Harry had ended up saving Malfoy's life at the Battle of Hogwarts—twice, even. A strange feeling of relief—however brief it was—had washed over him when he knew that, at least for the time being, Malfoy was safe.

Ron had punched Malfoy in the middle of it because he was ungrateful, which hurt Ron more than a broken nose ever could.

16. Thanks

On the night that Voldemort was defeated, Draco made a point to approach Potter and his friends and actually thank them for saving him, no matter how much the idea revolted him. He even shook their hands.

When he got around to Weasley, he could have sworn those bright blue eyes were sparkling, and he'd almost thrown caution to the wind and shown his thanks a different way—kissing him right there, in the middle of the Great Hall.

Looking back on it, and looking back on the way Weasley's eyes dulled when he muttered a simple, "You're welcome" after a forced handshake, maybe it wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all.

17. Avoidance

It really was a matter of time, Ron figured, before Malfoy had managed to get back into the Ministry's good books. In fact, he'd even gotten himself a job, in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Ron often ran into him on his way to the Auror's Department, but he never made the motion to acknowledge him.

The thought had occurred to him more than once to at least give Malfoy a nod, or some form of recognition when they would pass by each other. In fact, he should have been able to. It was high time to let go of this silly prejudice he held against Malfoy—they were both much too mature for that now.

But whenever he saw Malfoy approaching, he'd avoid his gaze, distract himself from his quickening pulse, and ignore the way their shoulders barely seemed to brush.

18. Tribute

It was a little-known fact within the wizarding community that Draco Malfoy had registered to become an Animagus. Obviously, the information was shared with his colleagues that were inclined to know it, but the others who heard it from word of mouth were left to guess at what his alternate form was.

Many people who remembered him from his days at Hogwarts, when they heard the latest rumors of what his form was, laughed. They took it as a sign that he had finally let go of his ill-borne arrogance. A small, white ferret—a tribute to his school days, they would say. Proof that Draco Malfoy had finally grown a heart.

But Draco had grown a heart long before. He'd let the others laugh at what they thought, but he'd keep his mouth shut about the matter. Who were they to know his reasoning behind registering as a white weasel?

19. Perfect

Really, honestly, completely truthfully, Ron's life after Hogwarts was perfect.

He had his beautiful wife, his two beautiful children, and of all things in the world, he had become an Auror. He and his family lived comfortably. They were able to afford new textbooks and robes for their children. They were surrounded by friends and family. He'd actually made something of himself. This was his dream come true. He was happy.

But some nights, when the air was cold and Hermione was already asleep beside him, Ron would let himself think back to his days at Hogwarts. When the world regarded him as a shadow. When he was in more danger than he'd ever be again in his life. When a harsh word from a self-righteous blond was all he needed to completely lose it…

And maybe, just maybe, if the night was cold enough and Hermione was fast asleep and the unspoken words on his tongue were too bitter to swallow, maybe for a moment he'd stop pretending that he had everything he wanted. And maybe he'd stop pretending that not kissing Draco Malfoy back all those years ago wasn't the biggest mistake he'd ever made.

20. Broken

By now, Draco knew better. He didn't let himself get caught up in the fantasy of a life after the war. There was no life. He couldn't show his scars because goddamnit, he was a still Malfoy—as if that meant anything anymore.

But he'd carry on, standing tall, standing proud, and he'd managed to get by in life carrying the pieces. He married—what he had with Astoria was close enough to love, wasn't it?—and he'd had Scorpius, who really was the one source of happiness he had anymore.

As time went by, Draco often found himself thinking back on things—reflecting far too often for his own personal taste. He'd think about the war, and what he would say to his father if he were still alive, his childhood, and whether or not he'd ever learn to feel better about any of this. Most times, though, Draco's thoughts would turn towards that same feeling of regret—the same bitter acknowledgement that he was waking up with the wrong person in his bed. Because he knew that he should have done more for himself—tried harder, burned through all of his chances, kissed him again and again until he understood…

Because without Ron Weasley there to distract him, hold him, and love him like Draco so shamefully craved, Draco knew that he would never fix himself from being so broken.

A/N: Can you tell that I was listening to hoplessly angsty music while writing this? Yes, "Careless Whispers" by Seether was playing over my stereo many, many times as I wrote this out. In case you were wondering.

In any case, I'd sincerely appreciate any sort of reviews. Constructive criticism is so greatly appreciated, and I'll even be grateful for flames. Review if you so desire.

Thank you so, so much for reading!

--NothingFromNowhere