No Other Way

He stood in front of ten foot tall Victorian windows in the old Malfoy Manor. The rain was falling beyond the glass, glazing the features of the garden with its' small stone statues of dragons next to a fenced orchid. The orchid seemed so out of place in that cold environment; years of cold generations and hate and then that place of beauty with the apple trees that flowered every spring. He and Draco had once walked between the trees, holding hands, under the summer sun, with grass soft under their feet.

That had been the day that Draco has fallen to his knees and asked him to marry him; to make their union a real thing, and not something that everybody tried to ignore. Of course, he'd said yes and kissed him. The things that followed were even sweeter memories still, but he wanted to wallow in his sorrow for now.

He remembered the smell of spring rain, not this rain that was cold and harsh with the wind rushing behind it. This was winter rain; half mixed with sleet and hail. Painful rain, he liked to think of it. Draco had died in this rain, died in his arms in this rain that was falling from the stars. Somebody he knew; his sister, perhaps, had said that rain was angels' tears. Thinking about it now, no rain would ever seem like angels' tears again.

No, that couldn't be right. Because it was raining when Draco died; surely then the rain had been a good thing, because it reflected his emotions. If the sun had been shining and burning his back he would have cursed the weather for being so cheerful.

He still didn't know how he felt, even now, years later. Everybody else had gone, only he had stayed. He slept in the bed that he shared with Draco, he cooked his own meals and ate on the silver that Draco's family had given them for their wedding. He cried for almost an hour a day, every day, without fail. He went to the chapel and spent a few hours in there, thinking in the resonating silence.

The loss was so great that he was unable to move on and figure out what he really wanted out of life now that Draco was gone. He could go back to his last boyfriend; but that wouldn't feel right. Nobody could possibly take Draco's place again, he couldn't love again. He'd never loved before Draco; he had never known true love before then.

*~*~*~*

Except for her. But that was forbidden; even more so than him and Draco. That was incest, that was something that could never be forgotten, never be forgiven. His parents had come to his wedding, but they hadn't spoken to him. His mother had tried, but his father had squeezed her hand and shook his head. He wanted the break to be complete with his youngest son; in his eyes, the love hadn't been love, it had been forced.

Ron had never forced her. She had come to him. They'd been together for only a year, but it had been enough. They were fierce in their loving, and that was how they were found out, when their father returned home early from the ministry. He'd heard Ginny's screams as Ron attacked her and pushed her down on to the mattress, torn off her clothes and pushed himself in her.

Arthur Weasley had seen a rape.

Arthur Weasley has heard screams of pain and not of pleasure.

Ron had left the house, been ordered to leave and never to be seen again. Ginny was hugged and pampered and taken care of. She was taken to a psychologist to heal the mental scars that weren't there. For a while they stayed in contact, but they both understood that they could never explain themselves to their parents.

Ginny couldn't come to terms with losing Ron from her life. She slit her wrists seven months after he vanished from her life. Her suicide letter was simple and to the point:

It wasn't Ron's fault. It was mine. I loved him, but you never understood. You never would. You could never accept that fact. That's why I did this. You couldn't have accepted the fact that I was carrying his child either. But I couldn't have killed our child. I was the way out. So I ended my own life. I hope you miss me. And let him back in your lives. Love from Ginny

Molly and Arthur were distraught. Ron was invited to the funeral, but he was not allowed to sit with the rest of the family, and he was not invited to the reception. Over a year later, when the memorial service was held, Fred wrote him a letter to inform him that he wasn't invited and that he was sorry that he couldn't convince their father otherwise.

Ron went, under Harry's invisibility cloak.

He left halfway through, because he couldn't stand how his family were behaving about Ginny's death and about his non - existence. He left the cloak at Harry's house and went out to the Leaky Cauldron.

That night, he met the real Draco Malfoy, and fell in love.

*~*~*~*

Draco's death was very different from Ginny's.

After the fall of the Dark Lord, Ron and Draco were married at a small church with an even smaller congregation. Very few people acknowledged the match, and nobody really wanted to admit that Ron had, yet again, fallen for somebody that he really shouldn't have. But still, Narcissa attended the wedding and sat next to Molly and Arthur. As Draco pointed out, they managed to go the whole service without making any snide remarks about the thickness of blood.

Ron never saw his parents again. He went to live at the Malfoy Manor with Draco and his mother, and they lived in relative peace and harmony for a short while.

But then, after a short struggle with a deadly illness, Narcissa passed away. In her will, she left Draco the manor. Ron and Draco lived there for two more years before Harry himself came to the door and asked to speak to them.

He said that some people still believed that Draco was a member of the Death Eaters. He himself was on a mission to kill Draco. Ron had responded with his typical violence, until Harry said:

"I don't want to kill Draco, but if you guys want to make sure that I can't find him, you need to go into hiding. There are other people with the same mission, and there is every chance that they will succeed. I'm telling you because I care for both of you, and I care for your happiness. I won't kill Draco, I never would and I never could, knowing that he makes you so happy, Ron. So let me help you to hide."

He came too late.

That night, Ron and Draco left the manor. They travelled by night on broomsticks, and were wary of any other people they met. But they were found and discovered by none other than Percy.

Percy himself had given the order for Draco's death, they discovered. After a brief fight, Draco fell from his broom after being hit by the cruciatus curse. Ron couldn't save him in time, and Draco fell almost a hundred feet to the cold earth below.

He didn't die on hitting the ground. The impact broke his spine in several places. When Ron landed next to him, he had almost stopped breathing and his eyes were closing. Ron gathered him into his arms and kissed his forehead, his lips, his closing eyes.

Draco struggled for breath and gasped at last, "Ron, you know that you're the only one I've ever truly loved... I still do, I love you so mu..."

The words died on his lips as his heart stopped.

The rain sleeted down, soaking them both and blurring Ron's burning tears. He sat there, alone with Draco's body until dawn. The rain softened and finally stopped, but still he cried for his loss.

*~*~*~*

Ron walked quietly down the hallway back to their bedroom. Sitting on their bed, he reached for the poison on the bedside table; only a little would kill him.

He poured into his goblet and then some into Draco's, which had sat on his bedside table for almost two years. The he raised the goblet and said simply:

"Cheers, mate."