Amor

It was the warmest morning they had had all winter, and Ron stood beside the great lake and watched the dawn bleeding into the sky. It was early; far too early for anyone else to be up and he revelled in the silence of his own company for once. As a rule, Ron generally preferred to be around crowds, but it wasn't often that he was allowed to be truly alone with just his own thoughts.

Inevitably, he knew the moment would pass and before long he'd be back with his friends and classmates. But his solitary ramble was interrupted sooner than Ron had anticipated, by the arrival of a certain blond Slytherin.

'What are you doing here?'

'Nothing,' said Ron honestly. 'What are you doing here?'

'I come here every morning,' snapped Draco. 'Where's your precious Potter?'

'He's not mine.'

'If I didn't know any better...' he sneered.

Ron stared at him, mystified. 'What are you on about?'

'Well, the way you follow each other around like love-sick puppy dogs is obvious enough, wouldn't you think?'

Ron knew that he and Harry spent a lot of time together, but even so he wondered whether Malfoy had completely lost the plot.

'Are you jealous?' he asked, bewildered and amused all at once.

'Jealous?' Draco laughed hollowly. 'Now what in the world would make you think that, Weasley?'

'We're just friends, Harry and I,' said Ron. And then he paused, because what he knew the next words that would be coming out of his mouth would not go down well with the blond boy. 'Don't bring him into this.'

It was funny, really. Ron had always thought that he was the one with the quick temper, but Draco was often the one to turn angry first and Ron was forced to be the one to calm him down, not the other way around as it was with Hermione or Harry.

'You're my friend, too,' Ron ventured. What the hell, he was feeling brave this morning. The fresh air must have messed up to his common sense.

'Your friend?' spat Draco. 'Do all you friends suck your cock and fuck you from behind in broom closets, Ronald?'

Draco was getting that terrible look in his grey eyes now, they glittered dangerously and Ron's fists clenched at his sides, his cheeks colouring. No, he wouldn't hit Draco, but he was sorely tempted because at any moment the Slytherin was going to sock him one if he carried on. That kind of fighting never worked out well anyway; they'd end up on top of one another in the worst way possible. In fact...all their fights ended up in pretty much the same fashion, one way or another.

The thought made him smirk. 'I do love it when you talk dirty, darling.'

This turned out to be the mistake he was waiting to make. Before Ron knew what was happening, Draco had tackled him to the ground and had even managed to punch him once or twice before Ron had the sense to use his arms to cover his face in self-defence.

It hurt, and he wanted to laugh.

'You fucking bastard-!'

Ron blinked. It took a moment for him to realise that Draco's last comment was not directed to him.

'-Let go of me, Potter!'

Harry had pulled Draco off his best friend and was now standing between them, holding Draco in a secure death grip.

'Harry, it's okay, you can let him go,' gasped Ron, getting up and trying not to wince-he was fairly sure his jaw was broken now. Harry looked uncertain.

'Are you deaf, Potter?' snarled Draco, struggling madly.

'Harry, stop it!' cried Ron. Harry let go, but it was probably more from surprise than anything else.

'Leave it, Malfoy,' said Ron quickly, careful to keep his tone blank. Draco looked as if he might whip out his wand and hex them both, but to Ron's utter amazement he only turned on his heel and left.

Ron dusted grass off his robes, to avoid having to look at Harry. He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to explain this one.

'Ron?' asked Harry, confused. 'What's going on?'

It was a fair question, really. Ron supposed that you could say they had an arrangement between them. What exactly the terms of this agreement were, neither of them knew.

They were enemies, everyone knew that. If people ever discovered the whole truth, it would probably scar them all for life.

'Who cares what they think?' Draco had snarled, pinning Ron's arms at his sides so that they were nose to nose and pressed up against the classroom wall.

'You care,' Ron had accused him. 'Don't lie. You can't fool me.'

'No,' smirked Draco after a moment, his long fingers working the zip of Ron's pants. 'But I can make you forget about it.'

He was bloody infuriating. Not that Ron was complaining at the time...he never complained. Ever. But sometimes he did want to strangle that elegant, smooth throat; just one quick squeeze to wipe the superior smirk off his perfect face. He'd always loved to hate Draco, quite honestly and things hadn't really changed in that respect. Or perhaps now he hated loving him.

Ron wasn't sure if there was a difference any more.

It was, to put it simply, complicated.

'Ron?'

'It was nothing,' muttered Ron, heading back towards the castle. 'Malfoy's a jerk, that's all.'

Thankfully, Harry dropped the subject and didn't bring it up again. Although Ron could tell his friend was thinking about it all day and Harry was much quicker on the uptake than him.

Ron decided to ignore the concerned looks Harry was giving him at the breakfast table. Instead, his eyes wandered towards the Slytherin table and met Draco's steady gaze.

How he managed to always look so irritatingly beautiful, Ron would never know. It bugged him tremendously. He wanted desperately to mess up that perfect blond hair a bit, to dig his fingernails into Draco's silky, hard chest and leave angry scarlet bite marks along the lines of his pale, jutting hip bones.

Idiot. Look away.

He wondered how no one had noticed it yet, the way he watched Draco Malfoy like this all day, all the time. Perhaps he had been hatefully glaring at the Slytherin table for so long that people had gotten used to it. Ron desperately hoped so.

In Potions that day, Draco amused himself by knocking his flask of armadillo bile into Ron's cauldron accidentally on purpose. His potion turned from a perfect shade of pale pink to utterly clear and there was no fixing it. Everyone saw what had happened, and naturally Snape deducted ten points off Gryffindor, declaring loudly and not for the last time that Ron was a complete and utter waste of his time. Which wasn't exactly true; Snape would never have allowed him into his class again if he hadn't passed his OWLs with surprisingly good marks.

Everyone was expecting Ron to jump up and make a big fuss, yelling at Snape and rightly accusing Malfoy. And it was true, he did play along most of the time but not today. Draco was acting like the spoilt brat he really was and so Ron calmly tipped out his ruined potion down the sink and said nothing. Hermione's eyes were filled with angry tears, and Harry looked particularly murderous.

Ron wished, not for the first time, that he could explain.

'You will stay after class, Mr Weasley,' snarled Snape, 'and perform the set task again. One more chance. If you can't get it right this time, I don't ever want to see you in my class again!'

At that moment the bell rang. Students deposited their potions on Snape's front desk and filed out of the dungeons. Harry and Hermione were one of the last ones to leave, keeping Ron company for as long as they were allowed. He was grateful, but...well, it wasn't as if they were never going to see each other again or anything.

'Will you be alright?' asked Hermione anxiously.

'Yeah, fine.' He grimaced. 'Try and get it over with as quickly as possible.'

'Probably the best plan, mate,' said Harry grimly.

'Mm,' agreed Ron.

'Potter. Granger. Class has been dismissed. Get out of my sight,' barked Snape from behind them.

'See you guys later then,' said Ron.

'Alright.' Harry gathered his books and bag and Hermione pecked him on the cheek before they left together.

When Ron turned back to his things dreading the next hour or so alone with Snape, he instead found himself facing Draco.

'What are you still doing here?' Ron asked warily.

'I'm doing extra-credit research,' Draco drawled.

Ron frowned. 'Your cauldron's already packed up.'

Draco's smirk turned distinctly evil. 'Not that kind of extra-credit.'

'Where's Snape?'

'Gone. Asked me to lock up afterwards and make sure you didn't blow the whole place up.'

'Right,' said Ron. 'Whatever.'

Draco's eyebrows rose incredulously. 'Was that just a rejection? Ouch. Slighted by a Weasley. Seems I've sunk to all new lows.'

Draco was keeping his cool this time, just a little flirty...cautious, even. Ye gods, thought Ron wryly, he must be wanting it bad.

'Seems you have,' Ron observed dully. 'And if you don't mind, I've got a potion to make.'

'No you don't.'

Ron looked up in surprise, just in time to see Draco toss him a tiny glass bottle containing liquid of a very faint pink colour. Ron caught it by reflex, stunned.

'I filled up two,' he said. 'It's perfect.'

Ron set the potion down on the table carefully. It was the first apology of sorts he had received from Draco. Trust him to get something in return out of it, too.

He took the first step, then Draco the second and before he knew it they had met in the middle, getting tangled in arms and lips and far too much regulation black uniform.

'Robes off, Weasley,' purred Draco; Ron breathed in sharply as those deft fingers moved to the front of his pants.

He leaned in and kissed him, felt Draco's hot lips part willingly and almost helplessly under his command. He ran his hands through Draco's sleek hair, and felt the silken, silver-blond strands over his skin. He pulled back and grinned when he saw how dishevelled Draco looked; tousled hair, silver eyes blazing. With only half the usual amount of clothes on and panting ever so slightly.

It was sickening. Absolutely pathetic. How much Ron wanted this, wanted him. Now and today and tomorrow, forever. The realisation was making him feel dizzy and weak at the knees-or maybe that was just the unbearably delicious sensation of Draco's hot tongue sliding his way down Ron's chest.

'Draco?'

'Mmm?' A slight nip of sharp white teeth just below his navel. Ron forced himself to focus; he needed to know.

'Do you love me?'

A pause. Draco, kneeling before him on the cold dungeon floor, looked up and their eyes locked.

'I told you,' he said, 'I've reached all new lows.'

On top of everything, Ron decided, it was also disgusting how one simple insult from a Malfoy could make him feel this deliriously happy.

'You're just saying that to get into my pants,' he accused.

'Shut up, Weasley. It's working, isn't it?'

~Finis~