-1Title:
Second Chances? (Part 1 of 3)
Pairing:
Harry/Ron, Draco/Ron
Author:
InTheVast
Rating:
NC-17
Warnings:
Slash, Melodrama, Sex, and Angst
Word Count:
3230
Disclaimers:
No ownership.
Author's Notes:
Entry for the First
Lines Challenge
(http/community. I used
#1. I haven't wrote HP fanfic for probably over a year or two, so
I'm afraid I'm a little rusty and it really comes out in this
fic. Sorry! Hopefully it will improve as the story goes on.
Part I.
"Everyone
deserves a second chance Ron." said Harry, tiredly.
"Not
him! Not fucking Malfoy! You know what he tried to do!" Ron
slammed his mug down on the table. Lupin rose slowly from his
chair.
"Ron, be reasonable. Dumbledore would have given him
a second chance."
"Well, Dumbledore is fucking dead. So we can't ask him, can we?"
"God we are outnumbered as it is. We need any able wizard we can get."
Harry watched as Ron's face paled, no doubt memories were running through his mind. He hated to ask that of Ron, to accept Draco as one of the resistance aurors, but what could he do? Draco had information that they needed, he was willing to turn traitor on Voldemort, and help them. And they had been stuck in this den for weeks, biding their time, waiting for their chance. But time was running out. The dementors were on patrol and could find them any day now. Draco could be just what they need to win this war.
"Please Ron, for me." Harry said softly reaching for Ron's hand.
He and Lupin waited for Ron to swallow everything down.
"Fine." He whispered, fingers wrapping tight around Harry's. This simple gesture brought Harry back to the very moment when he first found out what was really going on between Ron and Malfoy.
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Ron's lips bleed. Harry can already see the bruised knuckles; the swelling, ruddy cheeks, even from his respectable distance.
"Did you get in a fight?" He asks from the doorway. Ron looks up startled eyes clashing, then abandoning. He looks at himself along with Harry in the mirror as if seeing himself for the first time. Harry is not surprised. He has seen the changes. They have grown black inside him for months.
"I suppose you could say that." Ron is now rinsing his hands in the porcelain sink and the boy who lived watches the red drain away with everything he wants to say.
Ron looks at him again from the mirror. "What are you doing up so late anyway?"
Harry shifts, awkward angles in the doorway.
"I could ask you the same thing." He says and bites his lip so hard he imagines it might bleed like Ron's and waste away like the remnants of his wounds, and the untold secrets, and the unexplained disappearances.
Ron begins to wash his face, splashing water. But wait, is that water running down his face, or…
"Are you crying Ron?"
"No!" But Harry heard the sob catch in his best friend's throat.
Before he could even think about it he was by Ron's side.
"Talk to me Ron. I'm so tried of all these secrets. We used to be best friends. You… you are still my best friend. You can trust me."
"No… I shouldn't." But something in Harry's eyes made him continue. "It's Draco. He did this to me." Ron said shuddering in Harry's arms.
"You got in a fight with him? What happened?" Harry asked.
"He tried to rape me." Ron cried out, turning to face Harry.
"No. No. Why? How could he?" Harry did the only thing he could, he hugged his friend.
Ron shook his head, sobs wracking his shoulders.
"Tell me. Please tell me Ron." Harry said desperately turning Ron's face to his, so they were eye to eye.
"We were dating secretly…" Ron laughed bitterly, wiping away his tears. "I guess if you could even call it that. That's where I have been all these nights."
It made so much sense now. The way Draco had been mysteriously ignoring Ron, no longer making fun of him around Harry and Hermione. Harry listened as Ron continued with his story.
"Tonight we had an argument. A fight, really." Ron looked at Harry with some kind of sadness that he never seen before on his best friend's face. It stirred unknown things deep within him.
"I knew something was going on. He was hiding something from me. I confronted him, and we fought. I said terrible things. I knew, I knew he had become a death eater. I wanted to see the dark mark, you know, to prove it to myself." Ron sniffled.
"I ripped the sleeve of his robes off. And there it was. I should have know all along."
Harry shook his head. "You couldn't have known Ron. You are a good person, you wanted to trust him."
Ron's face fell. "I loved him."
Harry's breath caught. He felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach.
"How could he do this to you?"
"Oh, Harry. We fought after I saw the mark. I told him I was going to leave him, I told him I was going to tell everyone. That's when he got the upper hand. A look I had never seen before was in his eyes. He looked dangerous. He held me down and told me he would keep me quiet." The tears were flowing more freely now on Ron's face.
"His hands started undoing my robes, and I called him all sorts of names. I guess maybe the bastard realized what he was trying to do because he stopped. I punched him in the face and ran."
"Ron… what can I do? What can I do to make this better?"
Ron looked at him again, the bewildered hurt had vanished. This time replaced with steel resolve.
"I don't ever want to be reminded of this again."
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It looked like Harry had broken his promise. He went alone to meet Draco, Lupin was busy meeting with aurors in another hiding camp, and Ron, he suspected, was sulking, but not without good cause. It started to drizzle before he met Draco. He decided not to think of the metaphorical implications. Nor did he think about how he felt like he was betraying Ron.
Draco was waiting at the edge of the abandoned field with his back towards Harry.
"Malfoy?" Harry said, peering through the fog. Draco turned at his name being called and his cool eyes fixated on Harry's as a sneer formed on his lips.
"Took you long enough."
"You are lucky I even came." Harry bit out. "Now are you coming or not? As much as I would love to sit here and catch up, I'm afraid your old pals, you know the ones that can't wait to kill me, will find us."
"Whatever Potter," Draco's grey eyes looked past Harry. "Where's Ron?" He asked.
"He's back at the den. And you stay away from him." Harry said as they walked back towards the woods.
Draco laughed, the sound was like glass breaking. "What's wrong Potter? Afraid you won't be able to hang onto him?"
This time Harry laughed. "That's where you are wrong. Whatever you two had, it's over. He hates you now."
"Hate? I've always called that foreplay."
"Foreplay?" Harry smacked his head. "Wait… was that when you held Ron down and almost raped him? Or maybe when you lied to him and told him that you weren't a death eater."
"You should shut your mouth when you clearly have no clue what you are talking about. And maybe I fucked up, but what about you? You just couldn't wait for your shoulder to be the one he cried on could you?"
Harry choked back an angry retort. This was going nowhere. He shivered under the onslaught of rain. It wasn't as if he had "stolen" Ron from Malfoy as he had implied. No, Ron and Harry hadn't gotten together until a month or so after the night Ron and Malfoy had fought…
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Ron was staring out the window again. Harry watched, a little agitated. Why should his best friend still be upset over that bastard Malfoy. Sure enough Malfoy had gone back to his old tricks and was teasing Ron with a new nastiness that must have been inspired by their ill-fated relationship.
A few hours ago Malfoy had stepped on Ron's robes in front of all of his Slytherin mates, causing Ron to trip. "At least you know where you belong Weasley," Malfoy had said while Ron fell with a soft sound of pain. "On your back."
Harry had watched during these past few painful weeks as Malfoy had pulled stunt, after stunt. In a strange reversal of roles it was Ron who had kept him from punching Malfoy. That asshole had really done something to his friend.
And now it was up to him to pick up all the pieces. Harry forced some cheerfulness into his voice.
"Hey Ron! Do you want to go play some chess?" In the past nothing more had made Ron happier then outsmarting his best mate with his knights and pawns.
"No thanks Harry. Maybe later." Ron said without even looking away from the window.
Harry sighed, and took several steps closer to his friend. Close enough to touch his drooping shoulder if there was any indication that he needed to.
"Nice view?" He asked the shiny red hairs on the back of Ron's head. Peering over he could see a group of Slytherins outside. He didn't have to look too hard to see Draco Malfoy standing amongst them.
Again there was that strange pain in his gut. He took a seat next to Ron.
"Ron? Did you hear what I said?"
Ron turned to him startled. "Oh sorry Harry."
Harry studied his friend. He took in his wide eyes, the long eyelashes, and the tears caught in them. He felt his heart break.
"Sometimes I just feel so numb Harry." Ron said. "I can't even feel myself."
Harry wrapped his arms around Ron, anything to give him something to hold on to. He rubbed his back and murmured nonsensical, sympathetic things. He was prepared for a few hours of Ron crying, maybe spilling out his soul. But guys don't do that, and guys certainly don't do the next unexpected.
Ron's lips found Harry's. Harry tried to pull back, to say something, anything, but Ron's tongue was touching his own and he could feel his own fingers grasping at Ron's robes. The taste in his mouth was bitter sweet with the salt of tears but full of surrender.
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The walk went on in silence. Harry wanted to confront Draco further about Ron, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Let sleeping dogs lie, he thought to himself. Focus on the mission at hand.
"So what can you tell me about Voldemort's current movements?" He asked, not really expecting an answer.
"The death eaters are meeting in two nights, several miles from here." Malfoy told him, his voice was indifferent.
Harry grabbed Draco's collar. "Why did you wait so long to tell me?"
Draco pushed Harry back. "I didn't know until today, jackass."
Harry breathed in, then breathed out.
"We are going to be right under their noses!"
Draco smiled, graceful yet sinister at the same time. "Depends on the way you look at it. With some careful strategy Potter," he spit his name out angrily, "the element of surprise could be all ours."
"That's a suicide mission." Harry said with equal vehemence, and was about to continue but then he noticed his surroundings. In the near distance lay the abandoned, decrepit shack where he and Ron had made their home. Sure the shack was conspicuous enough, but what was not so conspicuous was the underground dwellings below, concealed by magic.
"We will talk about this later. Home sweet home," Harry told Draco, pointing to the shack.
"Really Potter… could you be any more obvious?" He made a sound of disbelief.
Harry smirked. "No not the shack. I'm talking about underneath. We have set up quarters nearly a mile underground."
Draco smiled. " Not bad."
Harry supposed that was the closet form of approval he was ever going to get from Malfoy. Together they continued the down hill journey. He knew Ron was waiting for them.