I'm not in Denial

Ron - The Creak of the Closet Door

Ron was trembling and trying not to look as mortified as he felt. Even as he sat down on the other side of the desk, where Professor Dumbledore and the line of governors were seated authoritatively, he was unwilling to catch a single eye or raise his ashen, nauseous-looking face in civil greeting. However, being Ron Weasley, he glanced up and accidentally caught the eye of the only witch seated as he unconsciously grimaced at the impressive row of twelve expensively-clad wizards. Pushing her blonde locks from her eye and tucking them behind her porcelain-like ear, she beamed attractively at him. Ron managed a weak, though pained half-smile. She would have been the one. She was the kind of woman he'd typically blush furiously to the tips of his ears at and avert his lovesick eyes clumsily from as Hermione muttered 'Boys' under her breath. Ordinarily, she would have been his Fleur Delacour for this year. He would be staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, nudging Harry in the ribs to indicate to her and then would foolishly jump to impress her with outrageous claims involving a Muggle helicopter.

But now...

The door slammed open. Malfoy suddenly entered Dumbledore's office very dramatically, his Slytherin green robes billowing behind him as strutted self-assuredly towards them, then slid lithely into the seat beside the Gryffindor, unfazed by every eye in the room scrutinising his every move. In fact, the stupid bastard seemed to be enjoying it. He'd changed his clothes, Ron mused with an angry glare. He wasn't surprised. Vain little twat that he was. Their gazes locked for but a second when Malfoy, in passing, inspected his perfect nails.

The perfect nails and the ice-cold fingertips that had very recently been inching up the Gryffindor's robes...

Ron snapped his eyes away from the glinting, stormy pupils furiously before the Slytherin shit could give him a customary smirk.

That stupid ferrety git. He was ruddy loving what he was doing to him. Playing another bloody evil Malfoy trick to embarrass Ron in front of the whole school... well, he wasn't going to let him. He wasn't going to fall for it. He wasn't going to fall for him. No damn way.

Malfoy looked as impeccable, cold and as self-satisfied as ever as he turned to Dumbledore's magically elongated desk and the thirteen towering persons sitting behind it. Ron could practically taste the Slytherin's cold, radiating smirk.

He dropped his own gaze to his lap, incensed inside as his hands trembled.

...That pasty-faced git had to go and ruin everything.

"Are we all present, Dumbledore?" A chipper voice suddenly inquired. "Anyone else to wait for...?"

The tall, podgy man with an exceptionally round and rosy face, who sat in the middle of the table beside Dumbledore, asked good-naturedly. He had a happy gleam in his violet eyes, almost as though he were a five-year old asking his mother if she could buy him that cool broomstick everyone else had. He even seemed to be bouncing somewhat on his seat in anticipation as he dabbed at his slightly sweaty upper lip hurriedly with a handkerchief. Dumbledore was trying not to smile. Malfoy was eying the bouncing Governor with a look of disdain and haughty disgust. And Ron was trying not to punch Malfoy right there and then. He just didn't want to think about what would happen if he touched the Slytherin bastard again...

"All present and accounted for, Mr Dandypus," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "I believe now would be a suitable time to begin."

The greasy gentleman nodded eagerly and turned to Malfoy, practically clapping his hands and chortling with glee. As the Slytherin tried his hardest to kill Mr Dandypus with a piercing glare, the merry and lively Governor merely failed miserably to repress a broad grin, his plump cheeks glowing bright pink. If Ron weren't feeling so sorry for (and pissed off with) himself, he would have sniggered.

Mr Dandypus suddenly smiled an energetic yet paternal smile at Malfoy, flashing his oddly shaped teeth and fidgeting like an overactive child in his seat. The wizard to the left of Dandypus, who greatly reminded Ron of the late Barty Crouch Senior, rolled his eyes sardonically and dragged the file in front of the bubbly fellow towards him. The stern gentleman flicked shrewdly through it with his bony fingers and made grunting noises through his noise as he skimmed down the pages with his perceptive eyes. The other governors talked among themselves, talking in hushed whispers and trying to look as though they were speaking about deathly important matters, though Ron was sure he heard one of them mutter 'I could really murder a Hippogriff Sarnie right about now...'

Trying to tear his already scarred mind from the idle chit-chat when all he really wanted to do was run to the nearest bathroom and puke out that horrible feeling in his gut and Malfoy's touch from his memory, Ron turned to Dandypus, hoping that the guy would finish this anytime soon. The Gryffindor had already guessed that the bloke was a bit of a nut, but seeing Dandypus look at Malfoy with affection made him think that he was a danger to society, too. Bloody Malfoy. Bloody sexually manipulative little...

"Ahhh, Draco my boy...!" the rosy-faced man began jovially with a hearty smile. Malfoy just scowled. "You really have grown into a very fine looking lad. Why, you look more like your father everyday! I saw him just yesterday..." Here his fidgeting stopped slightly and Malfoy's face went stone cold. Warily, Ron looked up at the little shit, controlling his trembling fists from throttling him as a look of confused interest crossed his own features. Hey. The git was actually scared of somebody. The redhead never thought the day would come when he wanted to thank Lucius Malfoy... Nah, he'd still rather see his father punch the twisted git in the face again. And then he could have Draco. Dandypus continued, still squirming about in his chair as his grin dimmed slightly. "Lucius is quite anxious to see you again, Draco." The Gryffindor didn't miss the almost frantic look between the Headmaster and Malfoy. It made him scowl and purse his already pouting lips. Were they best buddies now or something? After what that prick did to him? That day and this morning, too? How was that bloody fair?

"Did you tell him of the appeal, Humperdink?" Dumbledore had that severe tone and that frown on his face; a frown that reminded Ron why he was noted as one of the most powerful wizards in modern times. You really knew not to mess with him. It seemed that Dandypus saw it too because he started to laugh rather awkwardly, sweating even more. The hankie seemed to be working overtime.

"Well, Dumbledore! Honestly! Lucius will have to know his son is returning home...! He is the boy's father, after all..."

"And his son wants nothing to do with him," Dumbledore said with patient coldness, positively glowing in his authority. "And we are both knowledgeable of the fact that young Mr Malfoy here is old enough to live away from his parents; which, I assure you, he plans to do."

Awkward Silence.

"So am I expelled, or what?" Malfoy suddenly asked, causing that discussion to stop and the eyes of both men, sweaty and powerful alike, to tear from their gaze and to turn to his ice-like disposition. Dandypus smiled uncomfortably, squirming again in his seat under Malfoy's intense glare and looking at his other fellow Governors for support. They stared silently back at him with stern, expectant looks. Ron snorted. Of course the git wasn't expelled. The greasy bloke was a family friend and probably a damn Death Eater, too.

Shifting in his seat again (Ron being convinced the man needed to go to the toilet), Mr Dandypus finally began.

"Well... er... yes. Erm... well, after days of discussion...er, and referring back to the School Handbook... and also going over the facts, though Dumbledore assures me that, unfortunately, no eye witnesses were present... we twelve governors have regrettably concluded that... there, well..." He paused here to cough, averting his eyes from Malfoy's. "That there is no other choice."

The Slytherin's mouth didn't drop open in surprise. His grey eyes didn't widen in horror and he didn't tremble on the spot, growing pale and looking sick. Malfoy didn't look the least surprised. He just shrugged nonchalantly, looking ready to pack at that very instant.

Ron, on the other hand, was flabbergasted. His mouth did drop open, his blue eyes wide with absolute disbelief as he looked back and forth from Mr Dandypus to Malfoy, practically shaking his red head in incredulity. Dandypus was still avoiding the young Slytherin's severe eye and wiping the perspiration from his dripping red forehead with his trusty handkerchief, trying to smile nervously yet again.

"Well... yes. Such terrible news. I'm afraid it's quite unavoidable, considering the circumstances..." His expression completely contradicted his words; he actually looked more relieved than anything else as he carried on. "Nevertheless, the... the rules of the school stipulate that Draco may stay here for an additional month...which is, of course, quite ample time to inform family and..."

"Humperdink..."

It was amazing how Dumbledore could make one word sound more like a death threat than a warning. But the currently baffled redheaded Gryffindor wasn't really paying attention to this. He wasn't paying attention to anything. His brain had just shut down, leaving him incoherent, with both his eyes and mouth wide open and left watching everything around him in dreary slow motion. His head was beginning to hurt again as his open mouth went dry and that pit in his stomach was beginning to cause acute pain. He winced and gulped painfully.

There was no bloody way. Malfoy couldn't, he just couldn't, be expelled. It wasn't true. It... it just wasn't right. His evil bastard of a father could get him out of this easy. Yeah, that's what would happen. No matter what the Slytherin did, he could always weasel his way out of it. Nobody could get the best of a Malfoy, especially a Weasley... So what the heck was going on?

However, it didn't seem as though anyone would answer Ron's query as Dumbledore continued composedly, his blazing, overpowering eyes still glaring intensely at the Governor as the rest of his face seemed so very collected.

"Draco wishes to leave the premises as soon as possible," he stated simply, turning his eyes (to Dandypus's immense relief) to the Slytherin instead. The Headmaster had an odd little, almost fond, smile on his face as he spoke to the blonde boy. "Is that not so, Mr Malfoy?" Ron, still wearing a weak look of total perplexity that not even an amnesiac could match, nearly did a double take when Malfoy returned the knowing smirk.

"The sooner I get out of this shithole, the better."

There were a couple of gasps, but nobody commented on the language. In fact, Dumbledore seemed to be trying not to chuckle as his blue eyes lit up. Mr Dandypus, whose face turned even redder at Malfoy's words, reclaimed his file and extracted a form from it, turning it with his shaking chubby fingers and pushing it in front of the Slytherin.

"Well, yes... here is a, well, (cough) a magical contract, Mr Malfoy..." Even his voice was shaking. Malfoy looked up at him with a wicked gleam through his narrowed eyes and a devious smirk played on his lips. The vindictive little bastard was enjoying watching Dandypus squirm, the way he did with everyone. It was a wonder that the practically soaking Governor could continue and manage to hand Malfoy a quill. "It... it will remove your name from all... er, all the school files, it um, legally.... legally annuls Hogwarts's responsibility over you... er... it cancels your author... authorisation onto the school grounds... and also... also your student rights..." Malfoy twirled the quill and examined it thoroughly with a flick of his wrist as Dandypus licked his sweaty lips with an unbelievably desperate expression. The man couldn't have pled more if he were down on his knees.

Ron, who was pale-faced and grasping the wooden arm of his chair, was pretty convinced he was going to vomit any time soon as his blurred and spinning mind, which was still functioning peculiarly, only caught the odd word among the swirling haze.

Legally... Hogwarts...Cancels... Student...

Malfoy was being cancelled.

He would never see the blonde little shit ever again.

He shook his already aching head in feeble denial.

This just couldn't be the way things ended. It was all wrong. There was no ruddy way this could be happening. The blonde git's reign of terror was one of the few things a person could depend on. Who the hell was going to pick on Ron all the time now? Malfoy couldn't simply go, never to return. After four years of full and undiluted torment, he couldn't just up and leave. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

Ron wouldn't bloody let him.

Despite biting his bottom lip to stop his tactless self, gazing with wide imploring eyes at each of the Governors and rocking slightly in his chair, the redhead's incoherence and his headache both suddenly dissipated. His mind cleared significantly as the first thing he could utter blurted and spluttered out of his pleading and desperate mouth without thought.

"But... but I don't want him expelled...!"

Draco - The Decision

"Well... er... yes. Erm... well, after days of discussion...er, and referring back to the School Handbook... and also going over the facts, though Dumbledore assures me that, unfortunately, no eye witnesses were present... we twelve governors have regrettably concluded that... there, well... that there is no other choice."

Draco had expected it. He wasn't distraught or vaguely upset. As soon as Dandypus walked into the room he knew what the verdict would be. And he knew that Dandypus was the reason why the Governors had arrived so early in the first place.

That fucking greasy, fat-arsed bastard.

Draco knew it would be him to seal his doom. That snivelling, pathetic, bloody leeching excuse for a human being. He was practically a house-elf under Lucius's complete and total control. The only Death Eater who blubbered like an obese, toupee-wearing baby when they burned the Dark Mark into his arm.

Draco glared at him in purest abhorrence and repulsion.

That fucker.

He could barely stand to look at the man, sweating like a pig and refusing to catch his eye. Trying to smile brightly and bounce chirpily though the fear in his eyes was apparent and great...

Well, he had better be scared.

The Slytherin could already guess the deal. Dandypus had to get him home as soon as possible... and expulsion from school was easily the best excuse to begin a new and fresh education in Death Devouring. The Head of the Board of Governors was going to hand a 16-year-old boy over to the darkest Wizards ever born. The blonde snorted contemptuously. The fat fuck would have to wait until Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort played Barbies together before he would willingly go back home again. He watched in detestation as Dandypus wiped his forehead for the umpteenth time.

"Well... yes. Such terrible news. I'm afraid it's quite unavoidable, considering the circumstances..."

Draco glared as viciously as he could, which, in his vast experience, could have actually caused serious injury. The clammy bastard was relieved. The Slytherin could see it in his eyes. Did the disgustingly vile hunk of meat honestly think that Lucius would turn around, pat him on the head and blow him for a job well done? He was practically smiling with delight. Humph. The stupid fuck probably didn't even know what he'd got himself into. He didn't even realise that he was now playing with the big boys. Draco sneered. He'd be dead within a week.

"Nevertheless," Dandypus somehow managed to continue shakily as Draco's glare intensified. "The... the rules of the school stipulate that Draco may stay here for an additional month...which is, of course, quite ample time to inform family and..."

"Humperdink..."

Draco glanced at Dumbledore with a look that could only imply near gratitude, though the Slytherin did scowl through the expression. The Headmaster had saved him from warning the prat himself... and also from causing him grievous bodily harm. However, even Draco had to shiver somewhat at the look of pure warning on Dumbledore's face... though the Slytherin soon snapped out of it and returned back to his job of successfully freaking the Governor out with his Lucius-like sneer. "Draco wishes to leave the premises as soon as possible."

It was then that Dumbledore did something that the Slytherin didn't expect. In fact, it caused the relatively cool Draco Malfoy to blink almost as confusedly as Weasley. He gave the blonde boy a playful 'we-know-something-they-don't-know' look, which obviously was referring to their deal. Draco's narrowed grey eyes widened. Dumbledore was actually being sneaky and his eyes were glowing with mischievous, silent laughter. The Slytherin wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. But he preferred to sneer. "Is that not so, Mr Malfoy?" In spite of himself, Draco crossed his arms and smirked nearly completely good-naturedly. He loved knowing something while others were in ignorance. Perhaps it was just his cruel and devious nature.

"The sooner I get out of this shithole, the better." His smile widened even more as Dandypus went redder. The flushed and overweight sack of shit looked like he would soon run out of liquid and his sweat glands would begin to pump out blood.

"Well, yes... here is a, well..." He gave a dry, nervous cough. "...A magical contract, Mr Malfoy..."

Draco raised his eyes to look at the Governor as the sweaty creature took out a form with shaky hands; his moist fingerprints staining the edge of the paper. Draco made a face. Who exactly did he think he was, nearly cutting off a Malfoy mid-sentence and then daring to sweat filthily on anything he presented him with? Draco should have reported him to his father for being an insolent little prick. Oh yes, then he'd really be in trouble. Delicious trouble. He would be the Archery Target at the Death Eater's social club or lying on a silver platter with an apple in his mouth and being served straight to Lord Voldemort himself... Draco looked up at him with a wicked gleam through his narrowed eyes and a scheming smirk played on his lips. Oh yes, he was really affecting the overgrown buffoon. The man could hardly get his words out under the severe scrutiny, trying not to catch those Malfoy grey eyes. "It... it will remove your name from all... er, all the school files, it um, legally.... legally annuls Hogwarts's responsibility over you... er... it cancels your author... authorisation onto the school grounds... and also... also your student rights..."

It wouldn't stop him from hiding out in the Shack of Shitloads of Shrieking though, would it?

Draco stopped examining the damp quill Dandypus had presented him with and looked subtly up at Dumbledore, raising a slender blonde eyebrow in slight questioning that implied, 'Should I fucking sign it or not?'. Apparently, he should, since the Headmaster nodded his wise head in affirmation.

Draco leaned over with poise and touched the tip of the quill onto the magical golden dotted line.

Never in all his years as a Malfoy had he blotted on a piece of paper. Since an early age, the young Draco Malfoy was taught the skill of penmanship and grace. However, never in all those years did he have Weasley scream out simultaneously,

"But... but I don't want him expelled...!"

Ah, fuck it.

The paper now looked as though the Giant Squid had urinated on it or something. Lord Bugger it. He'd made a mess. Now he was going to have to fucking... Whoa. Hold it one Death Eating second. Did Weasley want him to stay? Draco raised his predatory grey eyes in astonishment, his usually composed and smirking mouth wide open. Well, that was unexpected.

And it seemed that the Slytherin wasn't the only person who looked completely taken aback. Dandypus spluttered a whole lot of nothing, the other Governors burst into murmurs of 'What the...!?' and the usually all-knowing Dumbledore raised a brow and blinked slightly behind his half-moon spectacles. As soon as he said it and when every eye had turned to him questioningly, Weasley blushed so deeply it rivalled his hair and looked embarrassingly sheepish and uncomfortable under the attention. In short, he was being the practically illegally cute and adorably sexy motherfucker that he was. God, the boy was so close that Draco found that his embarrassment was practically tangible. He was also close enough to...

Dumbledore, not taking long to revert back to his calm and logical self, was the first person to speak. He couldn't hide the confused look of amusement twinkling in his eye though.

"Mr Weasley, the choice isn't yours..." But it seemed Weasley was on a roll. The stunning little morsel couldn't even control his feelings if he had them all on a leash. He shook that sexy, bright head of his emphatically as his blue eyes widened in imploration.

"But... but I provoked him! Honest. I said some really awful things and-"

"Nothing allows a student to sink to violence," the stiffest looking Governor retorted, looking quite disgusted with the both of them. He gave Draco a look that made the blonde hiss out loud. "He could have killed you, Mr Weasley." Dandypus wasn't coherent enough to comment. The fat blob like bastard looked as though he was going to pass out.

"But he didn't! And I... err..." Weasley licked his lips in nervous desperation. Draco carefully inspected the flash of tongue he caught just a glimpse of. Mmmmmmm... "I... I don't want all this trouble."

Dumbledore's face was now stone serious.

"I'm afraid this is too serious a matter to ignore." Weasley was about to open his mouth again but Dumbledore gave him a hard look that halted his words before he could think of them, resulting in only an endearing, meowing whimper escaping him. With a resigned look, Weasley sunk back into his chair in defeat. "I think we can safely pronounce this matter settled."

Dumbledore finished with a serene clasp of his hands on the desk in front of him. Dandypus started to breathe again as he pushed back his chair and stood on his chubby feet. The other Governors, deciding from their Head's movement and Dumbledore's words that the meeting was adjourned, quietly packed up their things, taking Draco's excuse for a signature with them. They each walked out grandly, pausing twice to give Ron a look, then Draco a sterner one. Fucking Governors. Daring to look down at a Malfoy. He couldn't wait till the Dark Lord got them. Every single one of them. Then they'd be sorry and plead pitifully for forgiveness and...

Oh shit.

He wasn't supposed to think that. He was on the good side. Good side. Bugger. It sounded so much cooler to say you were buddies with the Darkest Wizard ever born.

When they had all exited, Draco noted through slit, raised eyes that Dandypus had moved and was hopping from one foot to the other by the side of the blonde-haired boy's chair, looking down at the Slytherin with a pained smile. Draco lifted his nose up in revulsion. What did the fat fool want now?

"Well, ...good... good luck, Draco, my boy." Dandypus smiled a nervous, animated grin that he supposed probably looked affectionate. Draco saw his sweaty hand twitching to rest on Draco's shoulder but the Slytherin presented him with a look that told him that any limb he dared to place on him wouldn't come back whole. Dandypus lowered his arm to his side as the blonde narrowed his stormy eyes even further.

"I'm not your boy," he sneered, causing the Governor to drop the happy façade. "And you better keep your fucking luck for yourself. You'll need it when you have to tell Lucius that I'm not fucking going back." Draco paused for a moment to bask drinking in Lucius' pet's fear, then gave him a soft smile, full of malice. "By the way, give my best to Voldemort." Dandypus had initially frozen completely, then he shook on the spot, his fat quivering with him. With a movement so sharp that Draco was surprised that a lump like him could manage it, Dandypus stormed off, slamming the door behind him so hard that it bounced open again. Dumbledore, looking so amused he nearly grinned, sidled to the door, tutting under his breath in a pleased manner as he pulled it properly open, proceeding then to sigh deeply.

"Some wizards truly do not appreciate the beauty of woodwork."

Draco snorted, but then stopped looking at the Headmaster when he felt that oddly familiar tingling on his face. He could feel the intensity of someone looking at him. He snapped his head around to see Weasley, who in a moment too late, blush then lower his discomfited head down to his lap again. The Slytherin smiled. He really was too sexy for his own good.

So... what were they supposed to do now? Twiddle their fucking thumbs? Wasn't Dumbledore supposed to order Weasley to go back to the Infirmary or something? Stupid old git. He was just standing by the door, humming to himself.

The silent tension in the room and the moroseness of the situation (doubly amplified as Dumbledore let out a few obvious coughs) told the naturally mischievous Draco to stir up the situation. And of course, with someone as gorgeous as fuck as Weasley about, he didn't have to be coerced too much. Forcing a smirk, he turned to the redheaded Gryffindor, trying not to lick at his tempting little ear as Weasley looked down at his own lightly freckled hands with an almost ill expression.

"Wanting me to stay, Weasley? I didn't know you cared." The Gryffindor raised his head up slowly to catch his eye.

Damn that fucker.

How could he have such an affect on the Slytherin without even touching him? How could he make certain things, external and internal, stir without even a single word? That bastard. Draco hated not having control. With irritation, the blonde boy had to force himself to breathe but it was becoming a lost cause. The innocent, wide-eyed and lost look Weasley gave him told him that the redhead cared all right although he shakily said with not much conviction;

"Piss... piss off, Malfoy..."

Draco didn't even smirk. They stared expressionlessly at each other for a moment until the sickly pale Gryffindor pushed his chair back noisily then hurried passed an observing and extremely interested Dumbledore and out the room.

The Slytherin noticed many things as his eyes carefully devoured every detail of the redhead's retreating back. He noticed the broad, strong shoulders of the once gangly and awkward kid, the absolutely perfectly shaped arse that would have been ideal to grope and sink your teeth into but most importantly, he noticed Weasley's lowered freckled face slowly flushing as he hastily exited the office. Such a shame that it would be the last time he'd ever see it.

Or so Draco Malfoy thought...