The Prophecy of Absconditus

Chapter Eight: Merger

"Draco!"

Valmont's shrieks woke Ron the next morning. At first, he thought it must still be night out due to the darkness of the room. He wondered who would call Malfoy's name this early in the morning in Gryffindor Tower when he remembered that he wasn't in Gryffindor Tower. He wasn't in Hogwarts at all. He was lying in a makeshift hospital bed in Hideout B.

"Phoenix?"

Groggy -- it was nothing like Ron had ever heard out of Malfoy before. He didn't even sound peeved off like Ron would have expected of Malfoy in the morning. Then again, every time he thought of Malfoy, it was something unpleasant coming out of his mouth. Sitting up in bed, Ron strained his ears to hear what was happening. Something shuffled behind the curtain, matching hurried footsteps.

"What are you screaming about? What time is it? Shouldn't you be sleeping like a normal human being?"

"He's dead."

Silence.

"Who's dead?"

"Dad. Father. He's dead." Valmont's voice was strained. It sounded like he had been crying before screaming for his younger brother. "Sev just came back. He went down into the village for a copy of the Daily Prophet to see if there was anything about a siege. It was on the front page."

"Where's the article?"

Papers shuffled and then there was silence again. Malfoy must have been reading the article about his father. Heavy breathing broke the silence, though whether it was Valmont's or Malfoy's, Ron couldn't be sure. Paper rustled again.

"She killed him. I know she did," said Malfoy.

That uneasy silence returned. Ron shifted in his bed, trying to hear anything at all. He listened to whispers he couldn't decipher, and then footsteps padded in his direction. He pulled the covers up to his chin and tried to look asleep. Valmont yanked back the curtains and walked next to the bed.

"I know you're up. I heard you shifting."

Ron peered over the covers. Pale blue eyes were violet with red, bloodshot, an unattractive result from the crying. Milk white skin returned from its former pink and blotchy state. His golden blond hair flopped over his forehead in disarray, a strange contrast to the meticulous style he usually wore. It was unsettling.

"Is Lucius really dead?"

Valmont's Adam's apple bounced as he swallowed. "Yeah. His body washed up out of the Thames last night. A bunch of Muggles found him. Can you imagine my father found by Muggles? Our mother identified him. She was conveniently in London when it happened. Anyway, the Muggles reported that he drowned. The Daily Prophet reported that someone put the body bind on him then threw him in the river. He had Petrificus Totalus on him when they did the autopsy."

"Do they know who did it?"

"Nothing's been confirmed, but Draco thinks it was our mother. I have to agree. Our father was never the smartest man, and Mother was behind a lot of the things he did. You know, he first joined the Death Eaters because he thought the Dark Mark was very stylish. Always said evil looked smashing. Not all there, my father.

"On a brighter note, how are you feeling today?"

"Better. Not good."

"Sev will want you to stay in bed. We'll be all right without you for now. All we're doing is Potions work. The Prophet posted an article about the Hogwarts siege. The Death Eaters seem angry that Harry wasn't there. There's even a reference to the Prophecy. It's quite funny, actually. The first line in the article has something to do with Harry escaping the siege and that the wizarding world need not worry. I think they use the word clutches."

"Harry'll love that."

"Not really keen on his fame, is he?"

"Not at all."

"I'll bring you a Potion for your head later. Sev's working in the lab today. I'm just milling around, taking care of you, and making sure everyone knows what's going on. May have to grieve a bit as well. I wasn't especially close to my father in later years, but things were different when I was younger. Anyway, I'll send Draco in later on. Do try to get along with him."

"I'll try."

"Thank you. I'll see you later, then."

"Bye."

Valmont disappeared through the curtains leaving Ron alone. Next to his bed on a worn wooden table was a copy of today's Daily Prophet. Sure enough, the article about Lucius's death followed a picture on the front page. On the other side of the page was the siege.

DEATH EATERS AT HOGWARTS

Harry Potter has once again escaped the clutches of Death Eaters.

On Halloween night, sixteen years after You-Know-Who disappeared, Death Eaters infiltrated Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster, was once said to be the only person You-Know-Who feared. Indeed, no one has ever tried to lay siege on the school before.

Wards have been placed around the school, making it impossible to cross onto the grounds. Just the same, no one is able to leave.

Alarms sounded at the Ministry of Magic moments after the Death Eaters crossed onto Hogwarts grounds. Headmaster Dumbledore set these alarms up around the school during He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's first rising in order to alert the Ministry in the event something like a siege was ever to occur.

Tracking placed on wizards still registered in school, however, indicate that Harry Potter escaped hours before the siege. He cannot be placed at Hogwarts.

"It seems as if they knew it was coming," said Jonathan Crane, of the Department of Mysteries. "The Ministry is able to detect when a Hogwarts student leaves the grounds, though it is rarely in effect. Just before the siege is said to take place, a large amount of students passed over the wards."

There is no word on who had escaped and who remains in the walls. Several parents report receiving owls from their children stating that they are safe, but won't be able to correspond for some time.

The article went on about the possibilities and to mention the Prophecy of the Four Mages. Ron didn't feel like reading it, especially when he flipped to page four to continue with the article and found an information box about the Four Mages. He couldn't help but stare.

Bade Fabian Mizar

Mother: Larrissa Mizar (second wife of King Reegan Alcor)

Father: Unknown

Born: 4 July, 352

Gift: Immortality

Curse: Infertile

Accused of a conspiracy with Ryan Alcor to take the throne, Bade Mizar was tried and convicted.

Ron crumpled up the Daily Prophet and chucked it across the room. He fell back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. He didn't want to think about Bade, and he didn't want to think about Malfoy. Last night, Ron wasn't sure what his dream was about, but he was certain that Bade had been in it. Those touches lingered on his skin, and Ron craved more. It was frustrating, aggravating, and Ron wished that it would go away.

"Are you okay?"

It was Malfoy, hanging in the doorway, looking from Ron to the crumpled Daily Prophet and back again. Ron shrugged.

"What do you care for?"

"I don't. Just wondering if you were going to go nutters on me and attempt homicide. Blimey, Weasley, relax."

Malfoy's voice was shaky, unsure, and Ron noticed those heavy bags under his eyes again. This time he didn't just look tired, though. Instead, he looked a lot like Valmont had with blotchy skin, bloodshot eyes, and his silver blond hair mussed. Sighing, Ron forced his body to relax.

"I'm not going to go nutters and attempt homicide. Just sick of hearing about this Prophecy already, and I get the feeling it isn't going to stop."

"I know. I mean -- God, did you hear the way my brother was talking about it? Like it was nothing? 'Oh, Draco, don't you worry. Being a Mage isn't hard. All you have to do is find Absconditus and figure out how to get the magic out of the fountain so that maybe you can kill Voldemort. Of course, if you don't find it, there's no hope no matter what you do. Still, no need to be nervous. Really.' "

"Why am I surrounded by people who don't know how to say You-Know-Who?"

"Oh, honestly, don't tell me you're one of those people. Even Potter has the bollocks to say Voldemort and he was a woman."

"Yes, I'm one of those people."

"There's no need to be. You should see Voldemort. He's hideous. Doesn't deserve any kind of respect at all. Not with a face like that. You would think with all that Dark Magic he'd be able to do something about that. Then again, you'd think with that Masters in Potions, Snape would be able to do something about that hair."

Ron snickered. "Is that all you think about? What people look like?"

"No, but I was trying to make you laugh. And I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah. You did." Ron fumbled with the cuff of his sleeve, an old Hogwarts robe that was too short. "Why are you being nice today after you were, well, you yesterday?"

"I'm reeling off my father's death. I presume you heard. Don't think it will last."

"I don't."

Malfoy walked from the doorway to the empty bed he occupied yesterday. Hopping up on it, he let his legs swing in the air, looking like a young child. Ron grinned, staring at the action and thinking how Malfoy would never do something like this if they were still in Hogwarts. It was a very un-Malfoy thing to do, and as Ron realized that, he couldn't help but think it was a very Bade thing to do. This had to be the ultimate identity crisis, and if Malfoy was going through something like this, how was Harry going to be? If anyone ever had gender confusion . . .

"So Professor Valmont is your brother?"

It sounded very lame in his head and even lamer on his tongue, but it was something. Ron didn't want to sit in silence with Malfoy.

"It sounds so weird for someone to call Phoenix 'Professor Valmont.' "

"I know he said he'd explain, but he hasn't -- so, er, if you could --"

"Explain?" Ron nodded. "Well, there isn't much to explain."

"It's just -- I always thought you were an only child."

"I practically am. Phoenix is seven years older than I am; he was born just after my mother left Hogwarts. She was pregnant most of her seventh year. Father had already proposed to her so it wasn't as taboo as it would have been if they weren't engaged. They were married by the time he was born. You're a pureblood. You know how a child out of wedlock is treated. Of course, no one would ever dare to say something about a Malfoy."

"So people whispered about your family behind their backs. Sort of like what they do now."

A hint of a smile crossed Malfoy's lips. It looked like it fit there on his face rather than that scowl he often wore.

"Right. Like the way people reacted to my father's brief stay in Azkaban. Still, Phoenix was always the favorite. Did you know he was a genius?"

"Really?"

"Doesn't come across, does it? He was a prodigy. Quiet annoying, really, because they always expected me to measure up to him. Father would always complain about how I couldn't be his because I was retarded. Snape had to keep telling him that I wasn't retarded; Phoenix wasn't a normal child. My father thought the average wizarding child was supposed to be able to do Alohomora at the age of four."

"Your brother wasn't kidding when he said your father isn't all there."

"No, he wasn't. I think he tried to be a decent father. Thought making us Death Eaters would be good for us. Genuinely misguided, I suppose. Spoiled us both terribly, though I was far more spoilt than Phoenix.

"See, Phoenix was supposed to be a Death Eater, and father went on this power trip when Voldemort disappeared. Once he thought the Dark Lord was gone for good, he got this crazy idea to start his own group with fellow Death Eaters. Wanted Phoenix to be a part of it, but he refused. Got Father rather angry. Disinherited him. That's why he changed his name to Valmont. Didn't want to be associated with my father anymore. Every time Phoenix came around, they spent most of the time fighting. I wasn't even allowed to say my brother's name in the house.

"My father tried to buy me off. When it would come time for me to be a Death Eater, Father wanted to have a little insurance. Seemed to forget --"

"That you and your brother were two different people?" said Ron. Malfoy nodded. "I get that sometimes. My mum tries to treat me the way she did with Bill or Percy or Fred, but I've always been a lot different from my siblings. She always says that if it weren't for the red hair, she'd think I was someone else's kid."

"Technically, you are."

"Yeah."

"Listen, I'm going to go find my brother. I want to talk to him about this Prophecy thing some more."

"Okay."

Malfoy hesitated before sliding off the bed and passing out of the room.

*

Hazy dreams passed across his eyes as Ron became aware of the shaking sensation racking his body. Cracking open his eyes, he saw Bade above him, gripping his shoulders and rocking him. Ron groaned and tried to pull away, but Bade refused to release him.

"Ryan, get up. Ryan."

"Go away."

"Ryan, you have to get up."

His voice cracked at the end, and Bade released a dry sob. Ron felt his heart lurch forward and he struggled to sit up. Bade's breathing was heavy when it wasn't stilled, and his fingers fisted around the sheets. He sat there a minute longer before rushing out of bed and dressing.

"Bade, what's going on?"

"They're coming."

"Who's coming?"

"Use your head, Ryan. My mother found your father and brother dead yesterday. We barely got past tea before you were questioned. Don't you hear it? God, don't you See it? She was right."

Now that Bade mentioned it, he heard the footsteps. Voices followed, loud angry shouts that sounded like the prison guards and officials, which questioned him yesterday. Screaming echoed off the stone corridors as heavy boots scraped along the floor. Those were Hero's screams. He'd know them anywhere. Ever since the stoning, they haunted his dreams.

"Oh, God," he said. It was all he could get out before he was out of bed.

"I told you!"

"Oh, God. Bade." He reached for Bade's hand and forced his fingers around Bade's. "They've got Hero. They think Hero -- why Hero?"

"It's going to be okay."

"Why do you say things like that when you know damn well things are not going to be okay? They're coming. They're -- oh, God, they're coming."

The heavy wooden door flung open and guards stepped into the room. In the corridor Ron saw Lorenzo and Hero held back by even more guards. They were everywhere, and Ron screamed when they ripped Bade from him. His resistance was futile. There were too many; they were too strong. Half-dragged, half-carried, they pulled Ron from his bed chamber.

Tears streaked down Hero's dirt-stained cheeks creating two clean tracks of skin. The left sleeve of her slip was ripped, exposing a dirty shoulder. Lorenzo didn't move from the grip the guards had on him. Neither did Bade. Ron couldn't bear not to fight. It felt foolish to struggle, but it felt even more so to give in.

"Bade Fabian Mizar, you have been accused of conspiring with Ryan Sloan Alcor to take the throne of Absconditus, and plotting the murders of Reegan Anthony Alcor and Starvos Reegan Alcor."

The guards' words faded as Ron was slammed against the wall. Bile rose in Ron's throat, and he forced it back down. He would not throw up. Colors swam before his eyes as he choked on oxygen. Stone dug into the crevices of his spine as the guards pushed him harder against the wall.

"Ryan Sloan Alcor, you have been accused of plotting the murder of Reegan Anthony Alcor and Starvos Reegan Alcor."

They continued to speak, but Ron didn't process the words. Pain consumed him. His vision was gone; everything was black. Hero's sobs pounded against his eardrums. Bade argued with the guards, and Ron clung to it. He needed Bade -- needed his touch, his embrace, his lips. He needed to be back in bed with Bade's body beside him. He struggled to breathe, but his lungs suffocated him.

*

"He's having a vision, Phoenix. Becky told you that when a Seer first starts developing, one comes almost every day. She told you they drain him. It's normal."

"They freak me out."

"Honestly, were you always this incompetent?"

"I'm not incompetent."

"You lack so much common sense that I can hardly tolerate you."

"Oh, I love you, too."

"Would you stop fighting? You're giving me a headache."

"Phoenix, go fill the basin with cold water. I think he's coming out of it."

"Why me?"

"Because you're driving me bloody crazy."

"We should have sent him to Rebekah. Why did we bring him here?"

"Because you didn't want to be the one to tell Potter he was a woman. Go fill the basin with cold water and do it now."

"You are a cranky and unhappy man. Did you know that?"

"So I've heard."

"Would you just go fill the basin? I'm getting sick of hearing him tell you to do it."

"Thank you, Draco."

"Would you all just shut up?" said Ron, raising his hands to his head.

"Forgive us, Mr. Weasley, but Phoenix doesn't understand orders."

"I understand orders."

"Then go fill the basin."

"Go fill the basin, Phoenix. Do this, Phoenix. Do that, Phoenix. Lick my shoes, Phoenix."

Valmont's voice faded as he walked away. A hand covered his forehead, and Ron opened his eyes to see Snape on one side of the bed, Malfoy on the other. Any other time in this position, Ron would have been convinced he was about to die a horrible death -- probably one that involved a potion Neville brewed.

"You had another vision, Mr. Weasley."

"I know. I was there."

"You were screaming," said Malfoy.

"How do you feel?" said Snape.

"Tired. My head hurts."

"To be expected. I'll bring you something for that."

Valmont returned, carrying the basin, which Ron assumed was filled with cold water. A rag hung off the side and Valmont placed it next to the bed.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, your Majesty?"

"Excuse me?" said Ron. "Who's royalty around here?"

Snape, Valmont, and Malfoy grinned (or as much a grin as Snape and Malfoy could ever make). Valmont patted Ron on the shoulder.

"You're doing all right?"

"Well enough."

"Listen, I'm sending Kerry Daubert to Hideout C this afternoon. He's having -- problems -- with the Potion brewing."

"I told you Potions was not his strongest suit," said Snape.

"Anyway, we thought he might do better somewhere else, and I want to write Rebekah about you. I want to know how it's coming with Harry and Blaise as well. Is that all right with you?"

"No problem."

"All right, then. If you'll excuse me, I have a letter to write."

Valmont ducked out of the room.

"How was the vision?" said Snape. "Anything we should know about?"

"I don't think so," said Ron. "It was a vision as Ryan."

"You get these particular visions for a reason. Even if they are as Ryan, they may be important."

"It -- it was about -- I was Ryan. And they came for us -- me and Bade."

Ron glanced to Malfoy as he said the name. Malfoy remained unmoved as if he had never heard it. He didn't want to continue, not with Malfoy sitting right there. It felt strange to talk about Bade with all these conflicting emotions. Having to tell this to Snape of all people didn't make it any easier. Taking a deep breath, Ron ventured to continue.

"I was in bed. With Bade. I mean -- not like that, we were asleep. But I woke up, and the guards were coming for us. Bade was in hysterics. He heard it before I did. Then they came. And everyone was screaming. You know, I really don't want to talk about it."

Ron dropped his eyes to his lap. It felt like he did this a lot lately.

Snape glanced between Ron and Draco, stood, and left the bedside, pulling the makeshift curtain around them. Draco never noticed. He chewed on the knuckles of his index and middle fingers, staring into nothing. The silence screamed, too loud for Ron to bear. No words came to mind that could break it, and as the seconds passed, pressure built. Something extravagant needed to break the tension, but Ron had little more to say than incoherent stumbling disguised as words. Pearls of wisdom that only Dumbledore could offer felt necessary, but Dumbledore was somewhere or someone else.

"I'm supposed to hate you," said Draco. Ron's mouth hung agape, no sound coming out. Draco paid no heed. "I don't know what to do. Three days ago, I was just Malfoy, the arrogant prick with a big mouth who hides behind his daddy's fortune. Three days ago, I was still at Hogwarts. Hell, three days ago, Hogwarts wasn't run over with Death Eaters. I have no idea how I'm supposed to fight for the school. This side is new to me. I'm supposed to be on the other side."

"You don't need to know everything."

"But I don't know anything. I don't want to know everything. Some things are better left alone. I feel so lost. Two days ago, I hated you. Yesterday, I find out I'm not just heir to the Malfoy family fortune, I'm a Mage. I'm reincarnated from some past life I don't even remember, and I'm wearing my scarlet letter because of it. I'm part of some prophecy I don't remember being a part of. I don't know how Potter does it."

"What?"

"Saves the wizarding world time and time again. I'm only one quarter of this deal and I don't think I can handle even that. How does Potter do it when everyone is looking to him?"

"Not as well as you'd think."

"I don't even know who I am anymore. Am I Draco or am I Bade? That should be an easy question to answer, but it really isn't. It scares me. Bade . . . I know that for the past seventeen years, I've responded to Draco. It's been my name. Malfoy has been my identity. But it's just a name and I'm learning it all too fast. It's natural. Bade feels more like my name, like who I am, than Draco. They're both me . . . I suppose I'm a hybrid or something, but I'm so confused."

"I know how you feel. It's no secret I've never felt comfortable with who I am or with what I have. And Ryan . . . I know I'm Ron, but I feel like Ryan, too, and I think that I shouldn't."

"Exactly! But the thing is, at least you know who Ron is. I've never known who I am, because I was that person who hid behind my surname. I -- I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to. I want you to know, and I don't know why. We've never been friends before this. Yesterday, I didn't even want to be in the same camp as you. But now . . ."

"It feels entirely comfortable."

"Why do you keep finishing my sentences?"

Ron shrugged.

"The thing is -- if I'm this hybrid between Bade and Draco, then who is Draco in the first place? Do I believe in what I think I believe in, or is that what my father has ingrained in me? And if it's what my father's taught me, is that even him or is that my mother's influence? Voldemort knew Potter was a Mage. That's why he went after him. If that's the case, he knows about us, too. And if my mother . . . Was I just being used this entire time to get rid of these Mages?"

"I think you're thinking about things entirely too much."

"You just think that because you don't think."

"I think, but not as much as you do."

"Are you sure we -- they -- were lovers?"

Ron sighed. "No, Malfoy. Bade stuck his tongue down my throat, but it could have been a brotherly kiss. I know I'm always sticking my tongue down my brothers' throats. Ginny, too, now that we come to it."

"Very funny, Weasley." Draco clasped his hands in his lap, running his thumb over the material of his cloak. "Do you think that because we were -- you know -- in that life, that we would want to in this one?"

"I don't know. I didn't really like you until today, but that was mostly because of how you treated me, Harry, and Hermione."

"My reason was my father. Or my mother. See how confusing it is!"

"Malfoy, you're going mental. I suggest breathing. Deep and slow."

"Was that some sort of sexual innuendo?"

"Are you really that worried about it?"

"It isn't polite to answer a question with a question."

"You know, it's bloody annoying when people say things like that."

"Sorry. But, really. What if? I mean, were we -- they -- just lovers, or was it more? Was it just convenient sex? 'Hey, Ryan, our bedchambers are right next to each other and I'm in need of a good shag,' or was there this sexual tension building for years while they fell in love? If the first part is the case, well, then all we would have to worry about is lust, but if it was more . . . personality must transcend somehow. Look at Potter. He was a woman and he ended up gay in this life."

"To be fair, that could be a coincidence. You are going to be nice to Harry about this, aren't you? I don't know how he's going to take to hearing he was a woman."

"That's a topic for later pursuit. I really want to know. I mean, if they were in love, would those feelings follow?"

"Personality is shaped by events in a person's life."

"What about soul mates? Circumstance doesn't mess in something like that."

"Are you saying we could be soul mates?"

"I'm speculating. The souls were bound, right? What if, in that life, we were soul mates?"

"Do you want us to be soul mates?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley. I don't want to be stuck with you for the rest of my life. I'm absolutely disgusted at the idea that I could have ever fallen for a pauper like you."

"Give me credit, Malfoy. When you fell for me, I was a Prince."

"A forgotten Prince."

"But royalty nonetheless."

"You know, you've just given me an excellent excuse to use in my denial."

"Denial?"

"If I were in denial, that is."

"Right."

"You know, I think I'm going to go see if Snape or Phoenix needs any help. You're going to be okay here by yourself?"

"I'll be fine. I've had visions before."

"But none as bad."

"I'll cope."

Draco nodded, nibbling at his lower lip. "Okay. There's cold water in the basin. If you need anything, call for me."

Ron tried to hide his smile. Of all the things for Malfoy to say, this had to be the lowest on Ron's expectancy meter. He nodded and stretched out to catch some sleep before Draco told him that he needed more rest. Draco lingered by the curtain on his way out, gave Ron one final smile, and pulled the material shut behind him.

*

Snape returned later in the day with his potion. The headache hadn't subsided, but Ron was coping. Dinner had come and gone, but he was too nauseous to keep anything down. The thought of eating solid food made his stomach turn over.

He lay in bed, trying to not think about the vision. He tried to sleep but it refused him. Time seemed to stand still and Ron began singing old nursery rhymes his mother sang when he was a child to keep him occupied. When those became annoying (and boring), he moved on to Weird Sisters songs, and managed to get one stuck in his head. That was even more annoying than the nursery rhymes. Just as he was about to climb out of bed and find something to entertain himself, the curtain around his bed opened and then closed again.

Ron didn't speak as Malfoy approached; his breath caught in his throat. Malfoy climbed into bed and crawled under the covers. He wrapped his arm around Ron's waist and laid his head on Ron's shoulder.

"Malfoy?"

"Draco."

"What?"

"Call me Draco."

"Oh -- okay. Draco?"

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know, but it feels right." Ron chewed on his bottom lip, searching for words. "I couldn't sleep."

"Me, either. Malfoy?"

"Draco."

"Draco?"

"What?"

"Are you going to sleep here?"

"I don't know."

Ron hesitated, and then wrapped his arm around Mal -- Draco's -- shoulder.

"Will you sleep here?"

"Are you asking?"

"It isn't polite to answer a question with a question."

"You're right. That is annoying."

"Well? Will you?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I don't know."

"Why is --"

"This happening? Why is it so weird? Why does it feel right? Why do I want it?"

Draco nodded against his shoulder.

"Yes."

"I don't know why this is happening, but I put the full blame on your brother. If I hadn't known you were Bade --"

"It would probably happen eventually anyway."

"Why are we finishing each other's sentences?"

"Got me. Answer my other questions."

"What were they again?"

"Why it felt right. Why I want it. And -- something else. Oh! Why it was weird."

"Well, it's weird because we were tearing out each other's throats yesterday, and today we're lying in bed together."

"That sounds so dirty."

"I know. I don't know why it feels right. Maybe -- maybe because we were together back then. Like you said with the souls. In my visions -- it wasn't just a quick shag. You -- Bade -- he keeps telling me he loves me. I know I feel the same way."

"So . . . we were in love."

"Yeah."

"Is that why we want it, too?"

"I don't know."

"We're a great pair. We don't know anything."

"I know I want it."

Ron wanted to slap himself. If he thought he sounded lame earlier today . . . that was pathetic. Draco didn't answer at first, but he tightened his grip around Ron's waist.

"I don't want to want it. I want to hate you. It was more comfortable when I hated you."

"I know."

"I want to want a girl. I want the war to go away. I don't want to be underground in some hideout. I don't want to find Absconditus. I want it all to go away. I want to disappear. But there is the war. And I am in this hideout. I do have to find Absconditus if I want to live, and I do. I don't want you to feel so familiar, but you do. I want you to want me, too, and most of all, I want to shut up and never speak about this night again."

Ron almost choked on the laughter he hadn't expected. Draco buried his face further into Ron's shoulder.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm serious. Someone should put a silencing charm on me."

"If you want, I'll pretend this never happened. You can go on being arrogant and pompous in the morning."

"No, I can't. Not with Phoenix around. Soon as I heard he was teaching at Hogwarts I knew my reputation was going to be ruined. Never expected this, though."

"Stay with me tonight. We can go on hating each other in the morning, or pretend we hate each other, or something, but stay with me tonight."

Draco nodded.