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The Hole	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Draco/Ron Views: 7360 -:- 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
- 10
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- 12
In The Dark
Ron settled into bed, wearing thick wool pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt. It was the first time he’d changed for bed in so long he couldn’t quite remember. Possibly since he’d stayed with Bill and Fleur after escaping Malfoy Manor.
Ron lay more toward the middle of the bed, knowing without a doubt that as soon as Draco got in, he’d be right up against him. It wasn’t even something he needed to contemplate. The fire had been nice, but not that, nor the sky overhead had managed to banish the cold that was still lodged inside his chest. He was going to ignore the very pointed look Hermione had given him earlier at dinner. It was none of her business of they were holding hands under the table, and if he made a fool of himself trying to eat left handed, it wasn’t her place to say anything about it.
Malfoy came into the room, his hair damp from a recent shower, a towel slung around his hips, and a hand brushing the long blond locks from his face so he could watch his footsteps to the closet.
Ron watched him walk, observing the short steps, the slight hunch of his shoulders against the chilly air, the slope of his ribs and prominent hips. He’d already put on a little weight, his stomach more flat than hollow, and his skin was flushed pink from the shower, a much healthier color than the nearly jaundiced pallor he’d had that first night. Ron had noticed the same changes in his own appearance, and now knew it was due to the potion Snape had given them. It’d given them a couple weeks worth of healing instantly, and even though it had tasted awful, Ron was grateful for it.
“You changed into pajamas?” Draco asked, sticking his head back out of the closet, holding the sweater that Ron had been wearing earlier.
“Yeah. The jeans were getting more uncomfortable than the cold.” He answered, shrugging under the heavy blanket.
“Mm.” Malfoy answered, ducking back into the closet.
Ron fell into thought as the sounds of dressing came from the cracked doorway. Dinner had been amazing, and he’d managed two helpings, plus the fried cheese sandwiches his mother had added. He’d had Draco on one side, and Hermione on the other. He’d noticed that she and Snape always sat together at mealtimes, and nearly laughed. The thought of her and Snape being sentimental or lovey-dovey was nearly impossible to picture. The thought of anything more was stomach-churning. But the way they’d talked quietly, the relaxed way Snape touched her, and chatted, like he was a normal human, was irrefutable proof that Hermione hadn’t been lying. Toward everyone else he still acted like a giant dick, but toward her, he seemed… Caring? It was the most positive emotion he’d ever seen Snape display, and it was incredibly strange seeing him anything other than irritable.
“Did Snape just give you the potion, or did he threaten you, too?” Malfoy asked, finally climbing into the bed, and rolling next to Ron on his back. His hand was already trying to weasel its way under Ron’s torso, and he lifted himself, so the slightly wiggling fingers wouldn’t tickle him.
“Just gave me the potion. He threatened you?” Ron was instantly bristling, but draped his arm across Malfoy’s stomach, and lay back down in their comfortable embrace.
“Mmhm. Told me to pass it along. So: Granger’s learning to read minds, but it’s a secret, and only we know. Don’t tell anyone else.”
‘Why’s it a secret?” Ron asked, thinking of how he’d want to brag if it was something he’d been learning.
“Apparently she’d freakishly good at it, and they don’t want that being common knowledge. In case it gets back to You-Know-Who, I guess. Make her a target, probably.” Malfoy replied with a yawn.
“Oh. She is? I thought she wasn’t that far along?” Ron remembered what Draco had said about it taking years to learn properly.
“Well, it’s Granger. Apparently she’s far beyond where she should be. Actually, if you get her attention, you can have secret conversations with her. Just think the words, and she can hear them.” Malfoy sounded a bit impressed, and Ron grinned.
“Of course she’d be better at reading minds than normal. She’s always been good at knowing what’s going on in everyone’s head, anyway.” He recalled fifth year, when she’d tried to explain Cho’s feelings to him and Harry. It’d sounded like total gibberish to him at the time.
“Well, be careful. I don’t know how good she is, but if you do look her in the eyes, just try not to think anything embarrassing, just in case.” Malfoy said, wiggling slightly to get comfortable. Ron nodded against his shoulder in understanding, and almost sighed when Draco’s hand lifted to his hair, stroking gently.
“Apparently Snape owes her a life debt.” Ron muttered, recalling how Hermione had defended him earlier.
“Nhg.” Was all the blond could manage through another yawn, his fingers clenching around red fluff as he did so. His fingers were tracing patterns on Ron’s skull again before Ron could say anything else, and Ron’s eyes closed, leaving him drifting in the feeling of warmth.
* * *
Draco brushed his fingers through the soft hair, feeling sleep pull at his eyelids, despite the light he’d forgotten to turn off. Ron’s deep breathing said he was already asleep, and Malfoy let himself follow, not daring to disturb his redhead just for the lights.
* * *
A loud crashing noise brought Draco gasping awake, his eyes flying around, looking for the danger. Ron shot upright next to him, his hand scrabbling around the sheets for a wand that wasn’t there.
The pair made terrified eye-contact for a moment, listening to the sounds of shouting, and someone speaking in return, and another resounding bang.
Ron was out of the bed in an instant, racing for the door, and Draco managed a choked ‘no’, before it was flung open.
“Calm down! Diggle, you need to calm down, there’s no danger!” Snape was speaking in a deep baritone over the shouts of the pajama-clad man. He was waving an end-table in the air, and Malfoy heard ‘Death Eater’ several times in his litany of threats and shouts.
“Dedalus! It’s okay, he’s one of us!” Arthur and Molly Weasley had appeared in the Hallway, and Malfoy took himself out of bed, following after Ron to watch the scene unfolding.
“Bunch of imposters! You’ll not take me alive again!” Diggle shouted, thrusting the chair forward as a defense.
“Dedalus, we’re not imposters, Molly and I hosted you and Hestia at our house the night before you departed to take the Dursley family into hiding. If you remember, we had jam cake for dessert, and you told me in private that Molly’s cooking was the first decent home-cooked meal you’d had in years.” Arthur quickly spewed the words, and the whole hall went silent, heads poking out of doors to see the commotion.
The man’s eyes were narrowed, and he looked around, taking in all the faces, landing briefly on Snape, and then Malfoy. Draco retreated slightly, tucking his left arm behind him, hiding the black mark that had been revealed by the t-shirt he’d chosen to sleep in.
“You may be the real Arthur Weasley, but you’re in the company of two Death Eaters. What am I to make of that, Arthur? How can I believe it’s not a trap?”
“They’re on our side, Dedalus. The Malfoy boy was in Azkaban, same as you, and Severus has proven that he was working on Dumbledore’s orders the whole time.” Arthur said with complete confidence. “They’re just as much at risk as any of us. Please, put the table down.” Arthur reasoned, stretching one arm out in a trusting gesture.
“Why’d you do it, Snape?” His untrusting eyes turned to the dark haired man, and all other looks followed, waiting for the man’s answer.
“He asked me to. He’d been cursed, and didn’t have long, so he made me swear to do it.” Snape answered coolly, his face turned away from Draco, hiding his expression.
“He did?” Diggle looked around, as if asking for confirmation. Hermione nodded, and stepped forward.
“He did. We can tell you more, but, first, I think you should have something to eat.” She said, offering him a smile. “There’s a lot we need to catch up on.”
The man seemed beguiled by Granger, and Draco watched as he slowly put the table down, looking sheepishly around at the faces peering from doorways.
“S’pose I’ve made a right fool of myself…” He muttered, brushing down the front of his cotton pajama shirt.
“Nonsense. Anyone would’ve been disoriented.” Arthur said, patting the embarrassed man on the shoulder, and leading him downstairs.
“Sorry, guys. You can go back to bed now.” Hermione said, lifting the table to place it back where it belonged along the wall.
“Not bloody likely.” Bill muttered, but disappeared back into his room, pulling his wife with him. As Snape followed Arthur and Diggle down the stairs, Malfoy realized that he was wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt, and simple black trousers, with house slippers on his feet. It was jarring seeing the man wearing something so informal. He couldn’t recall ever seeing the man in anything but full teacher’s robes. To make things even weirder, Granger was dressed in a short pink nightgown, and as she hurried after the small group going below, her face was flushed nearly pink enough to match.
Draco had the strangest feeling that Diggle waking up had interrupted more than sleep. He shook that disgusting thought from his head and pulled Ron by the wrist back into their room.
* * *
Ron stared at the vast expanse of leg that showed underneath Hermione’s nightgown, stunned that his bookish friend would wear so little. He’d never seen her wear such skimpy nightclothes before, and his eyes swept suspiciously over Snape,who looked downright ridiculous in plain clothes. His slippered feet were a strange sight, as was the defined shape of his torso and arms beneath the stretchy shirt he wore. It was absolutely odd seeing the two dressed so uncharacteristically.
“C’mon.” Draco’s hand slid around his wrist and pulled him back through their door. Ron went, feeling as though he’d been hit over the head with a club. The shock of being startled awake, and witnessing an obvious indication of Hermione and Snape’s ‘relationship’ had left him feeling stunned, rather like he was still in a dream. Only nothing he dreamed could have been so weird.
“D’you reckon they’re sleeping together? Snape and Hermione?” Ron asked, allowing Malfoy to tug him all the way back to the bed, now washed in darkness.
“Dunno. S’pose they could be. She looked dressed for it.” Malfoy said contemplatively, as Ron crawled under the covers through Draco’s side of the bed.
“Oh, sorry.” Malfoy said a moment later, looking contrite. Ron lifted an eyebrow.
“For what?” He asked, as Malfoy settled next to him on the edge of the bed. Their arms wrapped around each other comfortably, and Ron rolled slightly so he was once again half on top of the blond. Unlike the first morning he’d woken up in such a position, it felt completely natural, as though they’d been sleeping like that for years; a position they fell into without question, or fussing.
“For saying that. It’s not something I’d like hearing, if it were my ex.” Malfoy intoned, his voice sounding muffled through his chest.
“She’s not really my ex, though, is she? We only kissed the once.” Ron muttered, feeling his face heat.
“Oh. I thought you two were… for a long time…” Malfoy sounded confused, and Ron chuckled at the others discomfort.
“Nah. We kinda went around in circles for a long time, not wanting to be the first to say it, and then, with the war on, it was kind of never… The right time.” Ron thought back, feeling a bit bitter. Would Hermione have waited for him if they’d actually been together that whole time? Would he be sleeping with her now, instead of Malfoy? He imagined it a moment, seeing long legs wrap around himself, the body heat seeping through thin cloth as they snogged, and maybe, she’d be willing to go further.
The warmth on his face from Malfoy’s chest made the image a little too easy to imagine, and the way he squirmed to get his legs comfortable under the sheet changed the little fantasy of Ron’s ever so slightly, but enough. It was blond hair he’d grab, pale hands that would touch him. Grey eyes that would be heavy-lidded with lust.
In the dark, Ron felt his face heat with sudden shame at what he was imagining. It was just because of Hermione’s stupid words that he was even thinking it. He’d never fancied blokes before, and he didn’t think he did now.
A throbbing discomfort in his flannel pants told him he was at least partially wrong. The imaginary Draco had given him half a hard-on, and he tilted his hips backward, hoping to keep that glaring state from becoming common knowledge. His face felt like it would catch fire, and he wasn’t sure he could handle the humiliation if Malfoy realized he’d gotten hard while cuddling him.
“Something wrong?” Malfoy was looking down at him, his neck craned at an awkward angle.
“No. M’fine.” Ron said, shaking his head, and he closed his eyes, hoping to discourage any further questions. Draco fell silent, but his fingers began sifting through Ron’s hair, soothingly. Ron swallowed deeply, trying not to think about the fact that what had been a tranquilizing gesture just a few hours ago now seemed to be adding fuel to the fire in his trousers.
“Ahh, stop.” He finally gave in, shaking his head slightly to dislodge the hand. It dropped instantly, and Malfoy turned slightly to look at him.
“Sorry.” The blond mumbled, his whole body unnaturally still.
“Sorry, it wasn’t bad.” Ron tried to allay his friend’s obvious irrational upset at thinking he did something wrong. Malfoy said nothing, and Ron sighed.
“It really was nice. Just… it was keeping me awake a bit.” He tried to excuse his sudden prohibition.
“Oh?” Draco replied, his chest moving with breath, and his feet twitching slightly under the blankets.
“Yeah. You can do it more later, though, if you want.” Ron consented, nestling his face against the blond’s shirt to get comfortable. His toes were at the edge of the bed, but he didn’t want to move higher and give up his comfortable position on Malfoy.
“Alright.” Draco whispered, his fingers making a scratching noise underneath the sheets. Ron reached out a hand automatically, reaching across Malfoy’s stomach to grab the haunted fingers. He twined them together easily, and forced himself to think thoughts of cold showers and his Aunt Muriel, so he might be able to fall back asleep.
* * *
Draco listened as Ron’s breathing evened out, his chest rising and falling slowly, his thoughts occupied with Granger and Snape. It was an unlikely couple, true enough, but he had to admit that it seemed to work. Granger, the bossy, bookish know-it-all would end up with an older man. And a professor, at that. He tried not to think about the fact that it was Severus Snape, and compared them. They were complete opposites, yet they seemed to be a perfectly balanced couple that didn’t put themselves on display for the world to watch, while still maintaining a closeness he’d noticed since Ron had told him about them. At mealtimes, they always sat together, and he’d occasionally see them chatting, their heads close together, and once, he was certain he saw Granger jump, and the ghost of a smirk cross Snape’s face as though he’d pinched her under the table.
Draco wondered if they were really doing what their undress had suggested, and couldn’t quite imagine either Snape, nor Hermione being so passionate or physical. He hadn’t seen them kiss in public, but logic stated that if they were ‘dating’ as she’d claimed, they must at least do that.
He looked down at Ron’s peaceful face, his thoughts swirling around the last kiss he’d had. It had been Pansy, his sixth year, sometime around Christmas…
Ron was softly snoring, his fingers twitched in Draco’s and grey eyes fell to the pink lips that were slightly parted. Did he want to kiss a man? He couldn’t recall ever really wanting to kiss someone before. Pansy had pushed herself on him, and he’d had to squeeze his eyes closed every time, hoping he wasn’t doing it wrong. He turned the thoughts over, recalling how his father had drilled into him the need to marry and produce an heir, that he would make a good financial and genetic match, love had nothing to do with it. Draco hadn’t tried to like anyone more than anyone else, determined to love whoever his wife was, despite his father’s insistence that it didn’t matter. He knew some wizards fancied other men, but he was a Malfoy. He had to have a wife, and a child, so the thought of being with a man hadn’t even crossed his mind. But not anymore. Now, he could do whatever he fancied, and for all intents and purposes, it was seeming more and more like he fancied blokes. Or, at least one in particular.
He wasn’t sure anymore if he wanted to touch Ron because he’d been deprived of something so nice for so long, or if he wanted to be close to him because he was him. He didn’t even care that Mr. Weasley already suspected there was something funny going on, he needed to know how he really felt. Who he really was.
He looked again to Ron’s lips, and licked his own, wondering if he could get away with one simple test without Ron waking up. Malfoy played a bit with his fingers, seeing how deep his sleep was. Ron didn’t even breathe differently.
Draco took a deep, calming breath, and tilted his head slightly, trying not to move his shoulder, or risk jostling the redhead who rested at his clavicle. He hesitated, his neck already starting to smart, his heart racing in his chest, his eyes locked on the closed lids of the slightly upturned face he was so close to. One last chance to decide to act like a sane wizard, and just go to sleep.
He pressed forward, touching his lips lightly against Ron’s, holding his breath, and hoping he didn’t wake up. They were soft, fuller than Pansy’s, and warm. His lips were dry, and Malfoy relished the feeling of not bathing in saliva, as he’d often felt kissing Pansy. It was nice, and he wanted to keep kissing him, but instead he pulled away and let his head fall back onto the pillow, feeling as though his heart might explode right out of his chest. It was beating furiously, and he could feel the adrenaline rushing through him, making his arms and legs tingle with the need to move, to dispel the swelling feeling in his stomach.
He wanted to steal another kiss, but dared not tempt fate so much in one night. It was a miracle Ron hadn’t woken up and discovered he was being defiled. Malfoy closed his eyes, willing his heart to calm down, and his lips to stop burning with the need to press again into Ron’s. At least there was no more doubt for him; he definitely fancied Ron Weasley.

TheYets- If you like the Snape and Hermione pairing, I've got great news... I'll be posting their story after this one is finished!
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The Hole