The Ancient and Most Romantic House of Black

Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, and Draco Malfoy/Dudley Dursley (Half the people reading this just did a double take and said, "WTF?!").

Note: A friend of mine challenged me to write weird ships that hardly anyone writes because she's sure there are frustrated shippers out there who find that their ship is under-represented. So, all you Dudley/Draco shippers, I salute you. Also, if anyone has an odd ship that's rarely written that they'd like to see here, by all means, send it my way and I'll try to write you something.

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"The Ancient and Most Romantic BlackPart 6"

By Kaci JaBeth

"What's going on here, Dud?" Mr. Dursley asked.

"I...I...uh..."

"Dudley, please tell me this isn't what it looks like."

"It's uh..."

"DUDLEY, tell me that this isn't what I think it is."

Dudley let go of my hand.

"Of course not. I was just...I mean, this stupid filthy little abnormal person was forcing me to go somewhere I didn't want to go."

My mouth hung agape. Had he really just said that?

"Listen here, you, you vile, filthy, disgusting, little worm. You keep your distance from my Duddy. You hear me? You just leave him alone. Or else. Come on, Dud." Mr. Dursley turned and walked away and Dudley followed him. He glanced back at me only once, but did not meet my eyes.

Stunned, I turned and walked back into my room, shutting the door behind me.

I sat down on my bed. I couldn't believe it. How was this possible? We'd just talked about this. He'd agreed to tell his father. What...what...I thought we...I couldn't even form a coherent thought. I was hurt, I was scared, I was lonely, but most of all, I was pissed off. I grabbed a book off the table and threw it as hard as I could at the wall opposite me. I stood up and kicked the table so hard that it fell over. I tore the blankets off the beds and threw them in the middle of the floor. I stomped on the pillows until most of the feathers in them had fallen out. I pushed the wardrobe that stood in the corner over so that it fell with a crash into the middle of the floor. I then paused, admiring my work, panting hard to catch my breath. "That...that asshole...fuck him...damn it..." I panted. I doubled over, clutching at a stitch in my chest and fought back tears.

There was a knock at the door and I looked up. "What?" I snapped.

"Draco? Can I come in?" Came Ron's voice.

"Yeah."

He opened the door cautiously and peered in at the mess. "What happened in here?" he asked.

I sat down on my mattress. "That...that...that asshole!" I said.

"Who?"

"Dudley," I sniffed. God, I was so close to crying.

"What did he do?"

"We ran into his father out in the hall, and we were holding hands, and he lied and said that I was forcing him to go somewhere he didn't want to go and denied that we were together, and...it's just...he'd just told me that he'd tell them, and...God, everything is so fucked up."

Ron sat silent for a moment. "Is there anything I can do?"

I sniffed again. God, why couldn't I keep from crying? "I don't think so. I just...God, I mean...I feel like..."

"Like he's ashamed of you?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

The room filled with silence again. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asked finally.

"Yeah, I guess," I shrugged.

Ron sighed heavily. "Okay, you know that Hermione and I started dating in 5^th year, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you also know that we kept it a secret from everyone for the first six months, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, see, here's something that not everyone knows. I didn't tell my family that we were dating until almost a year after that."

"What? Why?" I asked. I was positively puzzled.

"Because..." he closed his eyes and sighed. "I...I was afraid. I mean, I know that my father loves Muggles and my family is in the Order and everything, but...not wanting Muggles to die and actually wanting to mix with them are two very different things. And I was terrified that...my family, all of them, would say things like, 'you can't end the pureblood line' and stuff. I mean, I guess it seems silly now, because I understand now that they wouldn't have cared, but...back then, it just seemed...I was afraid."

"Wow. I didn't know that."

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly one of my proudest accomplishments. The point is, I wasn't necessarily ashamed of Hermione, I was just...afraid of how my family would react. And if they reacted badly, which, thank God they didn't, but if they had, it would've hurt her more than me, right? I mean, she was the one they would've scorned and ridiculed, not me. In my own twisted way, I was just trying to...protect her. Maybe...maybe that's what Dudley is doing, too."

"I don't think so," I said quietly.

"Maybe not, but you'll never know if you don't talk to him."

"You know, you're turning out to be one of the best friends I've ever had."

Ron grinned. "Yeah, I have that effect on people. Listen, just...give him some time. Right now, he's got a lot on his mind, and I'm sure he isn't having an easy time adjusting to all of this."

I understood that Ron didn't just mean living in a house full of witches and wizards.

"You're right."

"Good. Now, I've gotta get back to Hermione. She's finally starting to get over that whole Lavender thing. Who knows, I might be able to get a good blow job or something out of her before dinner."

I laughed. Ron was so funny sometimes.

He stood and patted me on the shoulder, then exited the room. I lay back on my mattress. It was a bit uncomfortable without sheets, but I'd clean this mess up a bit later. I just needed to think right now.

So...should I forgive him? Was he really just trying to protect me? Or was he only trying to save his own skin? Was he...wait a minute. Saving his own skin.

"Well," he said, a smile creeping across his face, "Harry once told me that Dudley reminded him of someone."

"Who?"

"You."

I remembered the conversation Ron and I had had before I'd even met Dudley. Ron said that Dudley was like me. What would I have done in his situation?

And that's when I knew.

I wasn't put in Slytherin for nothing. I would've tried to save my own skin.

Ron's theory of Dudley trying to save me would've been great if Dudley and I were like him. If we were bloody Gryffindors...noble, caring, loyal, and brave, sure, Ron's guess might've been right. But we were cunning Slytherins. And when it came right down to it, good sex or not, we'd lie, cheat, and steal--whatever it took--to save our own bloody skin. That's just the way we were.

I could feel my breath catch in my chest. I could almost feel my heart constrict. God, I knew it was true. I knew it, deep, deep down. Deep down in my soul I knew it.

And the worst part was, if our roles were reversed, I would've done the same damn thing.

I felt a tear run down my cheek. Damn it.

The door opened and Dudley entered slowly.

"Gosh, Draco, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"Dudley...shh." I sat up and looked at him. He sat down on his bed and looked at me timidly. "I know why you did it. This...this just isn't going to work."

"Why not?" Dudley asked, sounding alarmed.

"Because, we're too alike."

"So? What's wrong with having something in common?" He sounded panicky.

"Nothing. But we have too much in common. And...this could never be anything more than a physical thing."

"No, that's not true...I could see myself falling for you." He sounded so sincere.

"No, you couldn't," I chuckled bitterly. "We could never really care for each other, because...in the end, you and I would both save our own asses before we did something for the other."

Dudley didn't dispute that. "But..." he trailed off, apparently unable to think of an argument.

"Dudley, it's...it's been great. It really has, but we need to break this off. Because one of us will end up getting hurt if we don't."

He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. "And what if one of us gets hurt anyway?"

"Dudley, God, stop it, don't cry," I stood up. He stood as well. We met in the middle of the room and embraced. I could feel his tears hot on my shoulder. "God, please, don't do this."

"No, you don't do this. Please, don't...this is...I want this. I need this."

"You're not ready for this."

"Please, Draco, don't...I...I care about you."

"You can't. You don't. You would've told your father that we were together if you did."

"You just don't understand!"

"No, you don't understand."

"I'm not ashamed of you."

"You're ashamed of yourself."

The silence that filled the room was louder than anything he could've said.

I pulled away from him.

"Draco..."

"Shh..." I put a finger to his lips. "Slytherins don't fall in love."

I doubt Dudley knew what a Slytherin was, but he understood.

"I know."

"We can never love someone else because we care about ourselves too damn much."

"I know that, too."

We'd both stopped crying.

"I think...I think that I should move out of this room," I said.

"No, that's okay...you don't have too," he sniffled. "I'll just go...I'll go room with my parents. You were here first."

He seemed pretty set on the idea, so I nodded and sniffed.

He stared at me for another moment, then turned and left, shutting the door silently behind him. I collapsed down on my bed and grabbed my wand off the floor. I gave it a wave and the wardrobe returned to it's place and the clothes that had spilled out of it returned to their original state. I kept waving and returning each item I'd knocked down to its rightful place until only the sheets and pillow from my bed were left in the floor. I didn't fix them just yet, as that would involve getting up out of my bed, and I didn't have the energy to. I felt completely drained. It wasn't even 3:00 in the afternoon, and I was exhausted. I couldn't move, I couldn't even think. I just wanted to lay there and die.

But I had to think. I knew I had just done the right thing, but God, it hurt so bad. And I couldn't help but think about why I'd done it and what did it mean, and was I actually gay or was I just...trying something out? Was that why I'd tossed it aside so easily? But it hadn't been easy, had it? It had been quite difficult and I couldn't bear to do it again, and even now I was second-guessing myself, so had it really been just an experiment or had I actually felt something for that stupid lump?

I just didn't know. I'd looked at other boys before, but...did everyone do that? God, I...I was so bloody confused. I needed to think all of this through, but my brain just kept running around in circles and why me?! What had I done to be this bloody confused? What had I done to deserve all of this?

"But these are the circumstances we were dealt, so we just have to deal with them."

The words I'd said to Ron echoed in my head. They seemed so far away. But I'd had a point then, and I had a point now. These were the circumstances I was dealt, and I needed to deal with them. First step: get drunk.

Okay, I don't know exactly how that would've helped, but...sometimes a guy just needs to get a bit inebriated, okay?

I exited into the hallway and walked down to Ron's room. I knocked on the door and he opened it. I was glad to see that he was alone. "Bloody hell, what happened?"

"Huh?"

He ushered me into the room and led me to Harry's bed. I sat down on it.

"You look like you've been to Hell and back," he said.

"I uh, took your advice."

"Oh, good then," he smiled.

"So we broke up."

"What?"

"Your advice was right...for a Gryffindor. Dudley and I...we're different. See, we...we'd save our own skin before we'd do something nice for someone else. Sure, you would've tried to protect Hermione. That's what you Gryffindors do. But...there's a reason Dudley and I have Slytherin personalities. We always look out for ourselves first. Dudley didn't do that to save me; he did it to save himself. That's just the way we work. And no matter what we did, he and I, we would've never really cared about each other. Not really. It would've been a totally superficial thing. And...I deserve better than that. So does he."

"So, what does this mean?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm here. You still got that firewhiskey?"

"Yeah, you want a glass?"

"Hell, no. I want the bottle."

He handed me the bottle and I pulled off the cap, tipped it back, and took a huge gulp.

"Thanks," I said, and stood. "I guess I'll go back to my room."

"Okay," Ron nodded. He looked at me in this completely annoying, patronizing, pitying way. "Have fun," he sighed.

I chuckled. "Oh, trust me. I intend to."

I left the room, shutting the door behind me, and swaggered (the liquor was already starting to have its glorious effect) back down the hall to my room. I waved my wand at the sheets that belonged on my bed and waited until they'd returned to their rightful place, then collapsed right back down onto them.

Who cared about Dudley right then? Who cared whether I was gay, straight, bi, or doomed to be celibate for the rest of my life? All that mattered just then was me and my friend, Mr. Ogden. Ahh, Ogden. Greatest wizard to ever walk the planet. A true God among insects. A hero to the unwashed masses of drunkards crowding shady pubs (or in my case, a dusty old house). Ogden, working tirelessly to promote the general welfare of countless future generations of alcoholics. This man...I smiled quite happily. Every thought, every emotion, every thing evaporated slowly from my head and my heart, dissolving into that wonderful bottle. With every drop of liquor I took out of that bottle, I poured another drop of my pain, of my soul right back into it. And when I had finished the whiskey, I'd simply put the cap back on and lock up all this agony so that it couldn't escape and come back after me. Yes, that would work...

My eyes drooped slowly...the room was spinning...everything was falling away...the room disappeared and I was left in complete and total emptiness. There was white all around me and the space seemed to go on forever. There was nothing here...everything was...

Oh shit. He was even haunting me in my dreams. Dudley was there, kissing the Dream-Me. Dream-Me pulled away and smirked evilly then disappeared. Dudley was changing...morphing...he looked like he'd just taken polyjuice...he...Ron was there. Ron was standing where Dudley had just been...Hermione came...she and Ron started kissing. I looked away...I shouldn't watch...Oh God, why wouldn't they stop...Ron morphed slowly into Harry...Hermione's bushy brown hair became Ginny's ginger red. Why was everyone snogging?

Dream-Me came back and flew around the room. Lupin appeared, he was a werewolf...he slowly changed into Snape...my father...You-Know-Who...Oh, God...

"Draco, Draco...wake up!"

I opened my eyes. I was lying on the floor of my room, tangled up in blankets. Ron and Hermione were standing over me and Ron was shaking me.

"AH!" I screamed and sat up.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, sounding extremely worried.

"What...what happened." My throat was so sore...

"Damn it, Ron!" Hermione smacked him on the arm. "Why the bloody hell did you give him that firewhiskey anyway!"

"Can this wait; we need to make sure he's okay!" Ron shouted. "Are you?" he asked me.

"What happened?" I repeated.

"You drank to much firewhiskey," Ron said slowly. "And I guess you passed out."

"He had ALCOHOL POISONING!" Hermione shouted.

"Fine, you had alcohol poisoning...and you were on the ground, thrashing about, screaming and moaning, and...well, you're covered in sweat..."

I felt my forehead...he was right.

"...and then you threw up."

I looked to my right. I was lying in a pool of my own vomit.

"Oh, God," I said.

I tried slowly to stand up, but it wasn't as easy as it sounded.

"Ron, just...just help him up and get him to the bathroom so he can take a shower. I'll clean up in here," Hermione sighed exasperatedly.

Ron nodded and pulled me up slowly. As he helped me exit the room, I could hear Hermione shouting, "Scourgify!" Ron walked me slowly to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you have that much," he sighed.

"No, it's my fault; I shouldn't have drank so much," I said.

We stopped in front of the portrait.

"I can take it from here," I said.

"'Kay."

"Thanks."

"No problem. You gave us a right good scare there, mate. Don't ever do that to us again, you hear me?"

"Yeah," I smiled...or tried to smile anyway. It's a bit hard to smile broadly when your hair is matted down by your own vomit and you're slowly recovering from alcohol poisoning.

I walked through the portrait and into the bathroom, then turned to stare at myself in the mirror.

The man who looked back at me was not the one I was used to seeing. This man had dark bags under his eyes and scratches on his face and neck. This man looked old, ragged. This man's shoulders drooped and his face looked extremely forlorn. This man was not the Draco Malfoy I was accustomed to seeing. What had happened to me?

I threw off my robe and hopped in the shower, turning the faucet on full blast.

The cold hit me like a refreshing breeze and I shivered. I grabbed the shampoo and poured a little more than necessary onto my hair and scrubbed. I scrubbed and I scrubbed, and just when I thought it was time to stop, I scrubbed some more. It wasn't even about getting my hair clean anymore. It was about purifying myself, and the vomit on my hair was the perfect metaphor for how dirty I'd become lately.

I had become nothing more than an animal, acting rashly on spur of the moment feelings, unable to control myself. What was wrong with me anyway? Why couldn't I just be normal? I thought that after I'd left the Manor, once I'd gotten away from my father, and was able to make my own decisions, that I'd be able to lead a fairly normal life. And so far, all I'd done was fuck my life up even worse than it had been at Malfoy Manor. What was WRONG with me? Why couldn't I just behave myself?

I rinsed the suds out of my hair, and as I did, I could feel the beginnings of self-forgiveness.

Years later, I'd look back on that shower as the moment that I truly began to love myself. At the time, I looked at it as the moment I scrubbed my scalp raw in an attempt to cleanse my soul.