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The Hole	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Draco/Ron Views: 7359 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of J.K.Rowlings ideas, characters, or works. I do not make any money from this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 9
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- 11
Fireside

Ron nodded, his own fingers picking at the dirt. He couldn’t exactly understand what Malfoy meant, but he felt that he knew the blond well enough to understand that Malfoy’s mind must have been an incredibly complicated place to live. Everything seemed to make him feel guilty one way or another, and Ron felt a stab of hatred for the childhood that must’ve encouraged such self-doubt. From one of Malfoy’s breakdown’s through the hole, he’d heard quite a bit about the boy’s father, and what he was like behind closed doors. He hadn’t realized at the time that the person being described was Lucius Malfoy, but thinking back on it, he felt pity for the blond whose father had been so apparently indulgent, but was privately undermining every good thing Draco ever felt.
He couldn’t imagine his own father being so different behind closed doors; just the thought of having to deal with two different versions of his parents was enough to make his head hurt. No wonder Malfoy had no idea how to emote properly.
“Malfoy,-”
“Don’t call me that. Please.” His eyes were begging, and Ron remembered instantly the months of him trying to come up with a new name.
“Draco, then?” He asked, trying not to laugh at how odd the first name sounded rolling between his lips.
“Sure. Just not ‘Malfoy’. I’ve been disowned, remember?” He spat, but the venom wasn’t directed toward his friend.
“I remember.” Ron nodded, feeling another pang of pity for the boy before him. “So, Draco, like I was saying-”
“Ron!” The distanced shout interrupted him once more, and he groaned, hearing Bill’s voice full of panic.
“Just a sec.” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet, and cupping his hands around his mouth to shout back. “Go away, Bill, we’re fine!”
“Where the hell are you!?” Bill’s call was a bit closer, and Ron turned to glance at the blond. He was staring back, his fingers sifting independently through the dark dirt, his eyes wide with anxiety.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Ron ordered, and began pushing his way back through the grass, along the barely visible path they’d created running there.
He got just out of sight before the panicked shout followed him.
“Wait!” Malfoy’s footsteps were hurried, and he caught up within a second, latching onto the redhead’s hand, his eyes wide with fear as he glanced around.
Ron squeezed his dirt-stained hand right back, and didn’t ask what he was so afraid of. There was only one thing he had to be so terrified of- his previous allegiance.
“Ron!” Bill’s voice spurred them forward, and Ron called back to keep his brother from getting further lost.
“We’re coming! Calm down!” He shouted, grumbling to himself as they marched slowly back to the house. Bill’s calls ceased, and Ron glanced back at Malfoy.
“Sorry, I was going to stay there, but…” Draco shook his head in a small cascade of white-gold.
“I get it.” Ron nodded, easily able to imagine how the tall grass surrounding one lone man would seem ominous. Especially when it seemed like everybody was after your blood. The walk back seemed to take three times as long as the sprint had, and Ron felt the stitch in his side start up halfway through. Before they even reached the edge of the tall stalks, the skies seemed to open, and dump buckets of water over their heads.
They sloshed faster toward the house, both shivering violently as they stepped onto the back porch, and out of the rain.
“Oh, you look frightful!” Molly was there, instantly fretting, and Ron felt Malfoy sink slightly into his side, his hand tightening as though he was afraid of the woman.
“We’re fine, mum.” Ron assured her, shaking the wetness from his hair, and wiping it from his face. He looked at Malfoy, smiling to see that the hard rain had washed the tear streaks from his face, and lessened the red puff around his eyes. He could feel the thin frame shivering against his arm, and ignored the look his mother shot at their joined hands before she hurried them into the kitchen.
“Sweet Merlin, why’s it so damn cold?” Malfoy chattered wrapping his free arm across his torso as the cold air from inside hit them.
“Air conditioning. It’s a muggle convenience.” Hermione said from the doorway. Her eyes locking on Ron’s. He remembered what she’d said about the mind reading and looked away, not wanting her to pick up on how much he’d been thinking about her words, or how tightly Malfoy was squeezing his hand as Molly waved her wand at them, drying their clothes to produce thick curls of steam.
“It’s bloody awful.” Malfoy shivered, glaring at the walls as though they were to blame.
“Well, we turned the heat on after the rain started, so it’ll be warmer in a bit. There’s a fire in the livingroom, if you’d like to warm up faster, and I’ll make you some tea.” Molly offered, and Ron had to bite back a laugh at the look on Malfoy’s face.
“Thanks, mum. Tea sounds great.” He replied, and bumped into Draco’s shoulder to get his attention silently. “It’s just her way of dealing.” He whispered too quietly for the older woman to hear, and Malfoy nodded, watching as she started to bustle about the kitchen.
“Anything else you need?” Hermione asked, and Ron noticed how she was meeting Draco’s eyes, her own widening. “Blankets, maybe?”
“Sure.” Ron accepted, and tugged Malfoy past her, toward the promised fire. As soon as they were out of earshot, he leaned in and muttered, “Careful, she can read minds now. Snape’s been teaching her, apparently.”
“I- What?” Malfoy stammered, glancing back at the girl who was pulling open a linen closet.
“Yeah, she-” He cut his words off, realizing he’d been about to tell him how she knew they were ‘close’. “I don’t know how good she is, though.”
“Well, if it’s only been this past year, she can’t be that far along. Takes years to develop the skill.” Malfoy replied, his face contemplative. “Thanks for telling me. I won’t think about your secrets around her.” His smirk was teasing, and Ron grinned back as they practically fell to the ground in front of the fireplace. The heat rolling from the grate was magnificent, and Ron looked around the unfamiliar room. It was larger than the sitting room they’d played chess in, and the furniture was sturdier, more wood and burgundy than wicker and white. The smell of the logs burning was filling the space, and as he looked around, he caught sight of Ginny in a small window alcove reading, so still she nearly blended in with the scenery.
“Hey, Gin!” he called, stretching out languidly before the comforting flames.
His sister jumped slightly, and looked around, and her eyes focused on them, as though she’d been in another world. She slid from the window seat and walked over, smiling as she approached.
“Friends with that git, now?” She shot a dirty look at Malfoy, and Ron felt his fingers pull away, so they were no longer touching as his sister stared down at them.
“Yeah, I am.” Ron said easily, not caring to have the same argument over. “Long story. Not having a go, and not gonna ditch him. How’re you?” He asked in a rush.
“Fine.” Her eyes darted to Malfoy again, and back to her brother. “George isn’t doing so good, but, I mean, who can expect him to.”
“What about-” He choked on the words a moment, and then decided to ask Hermione about it instead. She wouldn’t be as close to the situation as any of his family members. “So, what’s happened since I was locked up?” He asked, forcing his face into a playful grin at his own incarceration, as though it had been a holiday.
“Well…” Ginny plopped to the floor next to him, rubbing her hands together, and shooting Malfoy another glare. “We all sort of got lost, as fast as we could. Percy and Bill went after you, and Percy got stunned, too. Bill managed to get away before they got him, and we all ran, it was crazy. Stunning spells going everywhere, people scattering like roaches. We got split up for awhile, and I was with George, dad, and mum. We ran back to the Room of Requirement, and got out, and Aberforth kept the passage open for others, until the Death Eaters started coming through. We all disapparated while he stayed behind to keep them from us. We hid out for a while, trying to regroup, but everyone seemed to be hiding, dead, or being thrown in Azkaban. We saw you’d been chucked in, in the Prophet, but… There was nothing we could do.”
“S’alright.” Ron comforted her, seeing the apology in her eyes. “I’m out now.”
“Then, in November, Bill found us hiding in Mum’s family home, the one that was worse than home?” Ron nodded at the memory of the tiny nearly muggle cottage where his grandparents had lived, and the horrid smell that had always filled the place. “Apparently, Hermione had found him and Fleur, and they were all living here, trying to find others, so they could start back up with the rebellion.”
“Wow.” Ron breathed, not missing how Ginny had left out a good portion of details. Whether due to Malfoy’s presence, or discomfort thinking on it, he didn’t press the issue.
“So how was… You know?” She asked, her eyes looking them both over, her hands balling in her lap.
“Not too bad.” Ron lied, not wanting to terrify his sister.
“Liar.” Ginny shot immediately, scowling. “I’m not a baby, Ron, you can tell me.”
“Fine, it was bloody awful.” Ron retorted, offering just as many details as she had. “The only person I got to talk to for the whole year was Malfoy.”
“Sounds like shite company.” Ginny sneered, giving Draco another hostile look.
“Stop, Gin. He’s fine.” He leaned forward, blocking his sister’s view of the blond, who’d been staring into the fire, ignoring them the entire conversation.
“If you say so.” Ginny allowed in a tone that said she didn’t agree, regardless.
“I do say so.” Ron affirmed, crossing his arms. He didn’t want to have a row with anyone after being unable to talk to them so long, but he was getting right sick of them constantly putting Draco down.
“Here we are, dears. Ginny, clear a spot would you?” Molly bustled into the room, and carried the tray of tea to the coffee table behind the small gathering of teens. Ginny obliged, and stacked a few of the scattered magazines and books, making a spot for the tray to be set down. Molly sat on the couch on the other side of the table with a groan, and leaned forward to pour cups of tea.
“How do you take yours, dear?” She asked Malfoy, who took a moment to realize she was speaking to him. He jolted slightly when Ron nudged him, and whipped around, looking away from the fire.
“Um, sugar?” He asked, as though he’d never had tea before, and eyed the tea service as though it would bite.
Molly made him a cup and set it on the table toward him, pouring another three, and making them the same. Milk, sugar, and a bit of honey.
“That’s barely tea.” Malfoy muttered as Ron took his own, and blew on the steaming cup.
“Shut it, Malf- er, Draco.” Ron stuttered over the name, feeling his face flush slightly as he corrected his mouth. He ignored the pointed look from Ginny, and watched as Draco’s lip tilted in a small smile at Ron’s misstep.
“Here you go, I brought a few, in case anyone else comes down, and wants one.” Hermione called, entering the room with a veritable tower of blankets.
“Leave any for the beds, ‘Mione?” Ginny scoffed into her tea, as Hermione set the pile down on the same couch Mrs. Weasley occupied, and pulled a few from the top.
“Ron.” She chucked the first woolen cover to him, “Malfoy.” The second landed on Malfoy’s lap, making him jump slightly, and slosh tea over himself.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Hermione instantly pulled her wand out, and waved it at Malfoy, who flinched away violently, spilling more tea.
“Oh, dear.” Molly was leaning forward, her fingers hovering over her own wand, as Hermione fumbled to eradicate the second tea splotch from Malfoy’s jacket.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Hermione apologized, her face bright red.
“Not your fault…” Malfoy muttered politely, not meeting her eyes, but setting his tea down pointedly. There wasn’t much left in the cup, anyway. He used his free hands to pull the blanket open over his lap, while Ron slung his across his back, holding it like a cape around himself.
“Terrorizing the guests?” Snape’s cold drawl pulled all eyes to the corner of the room, and Ron instantly looked from him to Hermione, inspecting their reactions.
“Not at all. It was just an accident.” She said defensively, squaring her shoulders, her eyes locked on his. They held gazes for a moment, and Ron had the distinct feeling that they were having some sort of a silent conversation. Her cheeks flamed slowly pink, and she yanked her gaze away, looking toward the Weasley mother.
“Ohh, tea. May I?” She asked, sitting next to the woman, and reaching for the service at a nod from Molly.
“Draco, a word?” Snape’s voice sent a chill up Ron’s spine, and he thought about offering to follow.
“Sure.” The blond stood, leaving the barely used blanket on the floor, and followed his fellow Slytherin through the door Snape had materialized from. They disappeared down a flight of stairs, and Ron felt a pang of worry. He hoped that whatever Snape wanted, it wouldn’t cause Malfoy to go off the deep end again. He’d never tell the blond, but he felt rather exhausted from trying to comfort him earlier.
“Is it safe to let them talk alone?”
All eyes jumped from the exit to the doorway into the hallway, where Neville stood, arms folded across his chest, staring balefully at the now-closed door.
“Perfectly safe. They’re both on our side, and even if Malfoy managed to lie through the Veritaserum, I doubt he’d be able to get the better of Severus, especially without a wand.” Hermione said, sipping at her own teacup.
“Alright, but what about Snape? He killed Dumbledore! He’s used to playing both sides, how can you be sure he’s really with us this time?” Neville asked, his tone more acidic that Ron could ever remember hearing it.
“I’m sure.” Hermione said in a steely tone. “He has always been on our side, and even if, by some strange quirk, he decided to flip… He still owes me a life debt.”
“He what!?” Neville exclaimed, coming further into the room, migrating toward the fire, and eyeing the blankets, even as he stared in confusion at Hermione.
“I saved his life, Neville. So, according to old magical theory, which Harry proved with Pettigrew, Severus owes me his life. So even if he would betray me, which he won’t, he couldn’t.”
“Oh.” Neville let out a little breath, and sank to the floor. Then he looked back up, confused once more. “Why’d you save him?”
“Because I was sick of seeing people die.” Hermione said testily, clearly not comfortable talking about it. She glanced to Ron again, her face still pink, and he realized she must be uncomfortable talking about how she’d ended up together with him. She pulled her dark eyes away from Ron’s and the room fell silent as Molly made Neville a cuppa.
* * *
Draco followed his aging professor down the stairs, fighting his terror the whole way. He couldn’t stop wondering if Snape really was an ex Death Eater, or if he was about to find himself at the end of a wand, and possibly right into the Dark Lord’s clutches. There were lights coming from the bottom of the stairs, and he came out of them into a large basement, with several bubbling cauldrons lining the room.
“Draco.” The word pulled him to a stop as the Potions Master turned to meet his gaze. “How are you fairing?”
“Fine.” Draco replied shortly, eyeing the potions, and the man in front of him. Snape looked almost relaxed, his hair was longer than Draco had ever seen it, layered, and reaching past his shoulders at its longest points. The most surprising thing was that his hair looked clean, and his face clear. Not at all oily. Must’ve been Granger’s doing.
“If you’ll have a seat, I’d like to do a few diagnostic spells, to make sure your time in Azkaban has not left you with any permanent damages.” Snape gestured to a chair, and Draco took it, having nothing else to do. He eyed the wand that Snape pulled out, and kept his face blank of his fear. He did something he hadn’t needed to for nearly a year, and cleared his mind, occluding his terror of being alone with the double agent.
The older man muttered under his breath, waving his wand in intricate patterns, and making lights in various colors appear over Draco, each lasting barely a moment.
“So you’re really on their side, then?” Malfoy finally asked, choosing his words carefully.
“Our side, Draco. You’re with us, too, regardless of how the others huff.” Snape admonished, tucking his wand back into his robes. “Though I know there’s not much I could say to assure you I’m not going to drag you back.”
Malfoy pressed his lips together, and stayed silent as Snape pulled a ladle through a small pewter cauldron.
“Drink.” He handed the glass of potion to Draco, who downed it without question. If it was poison, then at least he’d know the truth before he died. The slight burn in his throat told him it was the same potion he’d been given the night before.
“What is this, professor?” He asked, making a face with his hand outstretched to hand the glass back.
“It’s my own creation, and doesn’t have a name. I designed it for the sole purpose of recovery from Azkaban. It’ll help with the malnutrition, and lack of appetite, as well as give you your energy back. After your mad dash from the house this afternoon, though, I imagine you’ve already got quite a bit your strength back.”
Draco felt his cheeks color at the thought of how he’d rushed from the house, and nearly dislocated his arm trying to get free. He couldn’t recall anyone except Bill and Ron witnessing that.
“You saw?” He asked, grimacing.
“No. Bill returned to the table and told us you and Ron had gone for air.” Snape replied breezily, not bothering to explain further. Draco chalked it up to the same legilimency he’d been teaching Granger. Would nothing in that house be private, with two legilimens? Likely not, he decided.
“I hear you’re teaching Granger to read minds.” He mentioned, hoping to receive some more insight.
“I am.” Snape looked him in the eyes, and sighed in a rather exasperated way. “I suppose Weasley is no better at keeping his mouth shut?”
“He is.” Draco found himself defending the Weasley, “He didn’t tell me about Fleur. Only told me about Granger after she tried sneaking in.”
Snape fixed him with an ‘I-know-something-you-don’t-know’ smile, and Draco’s stomach flipped over.
“Oh, I very much doubt she ‘tried’ anything.” He said cryptically, turning his smirk to the ceiling briefly, before fixing Draco with a deadly serious stare. “I was astounded that she told Weasley about her being a Legilimens, and I’m absolutely appalled that you now know. That makes four of us in the house that know, and I would very much appreciate it if it spread no further, do you understand?”
Draco nodded, the ice tone in the professor’s voice making his throat close with fear.
“Good. Pass the message onto Weasley when you’re alone, will you?” Snape waved his hand dismissively and turned to a potion, excusing the young blond to his escape.
Malfoy went up the stairs as fast as he could without seeming panicked, and paused at the top, brushing his hair from his face, and setting his expression in a neutral mask. He opened the door, and nearly closed it again, seeing that the number of people had multiplied. Every piece of furniture was taken, and Ron sat nearest the fire, the orange light highlighting his already fiery hair. There were a few teens littered on the floor, and, Draco was rather surprised to see, Arthur Weasley, too, sitting on the carpet like a man twenty years younger, his shoulder touching his wife’s knee as he chatted with Bill, who sat next to him, leaning against his own wife’s legs.
Draco forced his feet forward, toward Ron’s relaxed form, stepping quietly, as though he hadn’t already drawn every eye in the room, and could avoid detection. He kept his eyes locked on his target, ignoring the way conversation seemed to die down, and how the fire, and a few candles were the only light in the room, the windows darkened by a storm-blocked sunset.
“Here, saved your blanket.” Ron held up the grey wool and handed it to him as he took his seat, as close to Ron as he could get without actually touching him. He ignored the eyes, and draped the blanket back over his legs. Mimicking Ron’s position, he placed his hands behind himself and stretched his legs straight out, noting how his feet still only came to the middle of Ron’s shins. He hadn’t ever really thought the boy was that tall before. Looking across at him, his head didn’t seem that much higher than Draco’s own, and he looked back, guessing that it must’ve been mostly leg that made up his height.
“What’d he want?” Ron asked in a low whisper as the conversations resumed.
“To give me more potion.” Draco answered, keeping the rest for later. He would wait until he and Ron were away from possible eavesdroppers to tell him anything else.
“Here, dear, fresh cup.” Molly leaned forward holding out a teacup. Draco took it graciously, and glanced at Granger, in case she planned on making him jump again.
“Don’t give me that look, it was an accident!” Hermione didn’t miss his gaze, and he smirked, clearing his mind, and focusing only on Snape’s ugly face. Her cheeks went pink, and she looked away, her face irritated. Well, she wasn’t a complete washout of Legilimency. She must have learned quickly, and Draco wondered a moment why her learning the skill was to be a secret.
“Granger.” Her eyes turned back to him, and he thought pointedly in her direction. “If you can hear my thoughts, scratch your nose.”
“Yes, Malfoy?” She asked politely, her index finger rubbing the tip of her nose briefly. He grinned.
“What’s for dinner tonight?” He asked boredly, knowing that a few eyes had turned back to stare at his voice. “Is your freakish progress with that why Snape wants it a secret? Tap your fingers for yes.”
“Mrs. Weasley was planning to make tomato bisque, with garlic bread. Anything else you’d like, Malfoy?” she replied swiftly, drumming her fingers impatiently on the chair.
“No, that sounds lovely.” He said honestly. It did sound amazing. He looked away as his stomach grumbled, wondering if it was due to the second potion he’d been given.
“Oh, Ron, Severus mentioned earlier he wanted a word with you, too. He must’ve forgotten to say.” She indicated the door, and Malfoy felt his stomach turn over uncomfortably at the thought of being left alone in the pack of people who clearly distrusted him.
“Ugh, I’d rather eat a plateful of those horrid mushrooms we found last year, than go chat with Snape.” He muttered, glaring at the floor a moment.
“More potion. It’ll help.” Draco whispered too quietly for anyone except Ron to hear. “Don’t forget not to sip, though.”
Ron gave him a nasty look, but got to his feet and shuffled toward the door. He reached for the knob, but hissed, and jerked his arm back, muttering to himself before he went through. Draco looked to his sock-covered feet, the carpet, and then the metal handle that swung back into place as the door closed. He got to his own feet, taking the blanket with him as he moved away from the fire, to the edge of the room. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and pretended to be inspecting the bookshelves that lined the walls, the paintings that hung between them, and the view outside a window. His feet slid him in a wide arc around the couch, and he fought to keep his grin from his face as he looked around the room whose backs were now mostly to him. He stared at Bill’s head a second, yearning to shock the man for being so nasty to him the past few days. His eyes slid over Longbottom, but he discarded the idea quickly.Too much animosity for the joke to go over well, there. No one seemed to be a good candidate, besides possibly Mr. Weasley, who, as he watched the man chat with his son, seemed like an older version of Ron. He’d also been one of the few to be welcoming of Draco, and he was right next to Bill.
Malfoy slid across the rug, quietly approaching the turned backs of the husbands that sat on the floor, inching himself into the small space between the arm of the couch, and the chair where Fleur sat. Molly looked up at him, and he held a finger to his lips quickly, offering her the teacup he still held, and a smile that promised his intentions weren’t nefarious. She took the porcelain silently, her brows furrowed in confusion. Draco grinned to himself, reached out, and tapped Bill’s ear.
“Ah! Hey, what the-” Bill turned to see Draco grinning down at him, and his face fell instantly into a scowl, his fingers twitching over his wand.
“Blame Ron, he showed me.” Draco shrugged, taking his tea from the angry man’s mother.
“I remember you boys used to do that all the time!” Arthur chuckled, and Draco saw Molly’s nostalgic smile. “Got bloody irritating after a week. Couldn’t turn my back without getting a shock.”
“Language!” Molly chided without any real vigor, tapping the top of her husband’s head.
Malfoy sipped at his cooling tea and lifted his eyebrows at Bill, waiting to see if he’d try to retaliate with a hex while his parents sat right there, clearly accepting Draco among them.
“Going to start another month-long war…” Bill muttered, finally turning away from Draco, to glare at the fire instead, while his parents continued to reminisce.
Ron came back up the stairs, looking irritated, and his eyes darted around the room, confused when he couldn’t find Malfoy where he’d left him. Draco stood up straighter, silently announcing his position, and Ron looked relieved. He moved to sit where he had been, and Malfoy followed, sitting delicately and sipping at his tea, feeling the heat from the fire, and the tea in his hands make his skin start to prickle with discomfort.
“I shocked Bill. With the carpet thing.” Draco murmured poking Ron’s fingers, and getting him, too.
“Ah!” Ron’s hand jerked, but he grinned. “He didn’t kill you, then?” His blue eyes turned to inspect Bill’s still irate face, and he laughed gently to himself. Draco’s lips mimicked the laughter silently, and he stared down into his tea, feeling ravenous, and happy, despite the people that surrounded them.
A/N: TheYets, Thanks for the review, glad you like it so far. It's all written, so you shouldn't have to wait too long between updates. :D
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The Hole