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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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Escape

Ron picked absently at the wall, wondering if his neighbor had felt them touching. He hadn’t said anything about it, so maybe not. That meant that he might be able to get away with it again, on ‘accident’.
“Weasley,”
Oh no, he knew. Ron thought, panicking.
“I want to-”
Ron froze, staring at the hole, wondering if he was about to get in trouble with his only friend.
“What?” the voice asked, confused. Ron stared bewildered for a moment. “Weasley?” He sounded upset.
“What is it?” Ron asked, thoroughly confused by the strange conversation his neighbor had just had with himself.
“Ron?”
Ron started, and looked toward the door. The food flap was open, and there was a wand poking through, shining light that blinded him. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes, opening his mouth to ask ‘what’, again.
“This one! I found him!” It sounded like Bill. His door suddenly slammed open, crashing into the wall it was blasted with such force, the hinges screaming as they were tested.
“Wha-” He began, staring at his brother, who stood in the doorway, as Hermione joined him, looking out of breath.
“No time, let’s GO!” Bill shouted, reaching out, and grabbing Ron from the small room, pulling him into the hallway.
“Oh, Ron!” Hermione wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly, as Bill tugged at his arm.
“Hug later!” Bill sounded tense, and he and Hermione began pulling Ron away from his cell.
“Wait.” Ron said, tugging on Bill’s hold, trying to dig his feet in. “Wait! I can’t leave him!” He shouted, pulling as hard as he could against his big brother’s grip. Bill stopped, and he and Hermione looked curiously at him.
“We can’t leave my friend. We have to get him.” Ron said, pointing to the door next to his. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he just left the man there, to wither away, picking at the hole alone.
“Who is it?” Hermione asked, but Ron pulled his wrist out of Bill’s hand, squaring his shoulders.
“I’m not leaving without him.” He said, trying to look fierce.
“Fine!” Bill conceded, and jabbed his wand at the door. It blew open with another loud bang, and Ron hurried over, hoping it hadn’t caught his neighbor with it.
“Oi, you, let’s go!” He called into the cell, staring down for the first time at his mate.
The pale, panicked face turned away from the wall, looking up at him with surprise. His dirty face and filthy blonde hair were illuminated as Bill stood behind his brother, wand held aloft. He looked awful, his eyes red, his face streaked with dirt, and tears, his hair nearly matted. Ron wondered briefly if that was how he, too looked.
“Malfoy?” Hermione gasped, her voice full of shock.
“Let’s go!” Ron said,extending his hand, staring down at the blond with a confused look. His mind was a swirling mess of thoughts, but he could untangle them later. They had to escape.
* * *
Draco scratched at the wall, his nails breaking, and bleeding as he tried furiously to get through. He wouldn’t be left behind. He had to escape. He couldn’t hear anything over the pounding in his ears, and his vision was blurring, but he still tried, pounding at the wall, feeling a choked sob rise from his throat. He was leaving. Ron was leaving without him.
Another loud bang echoed through his room, and he almost screamed, looking up into another lit wand. Ron stood there, looking deathly thin, filthy, and entirely too heroic.
“Malfoy?” He looked over to see Granger standing behind Ron, stunned, and confused.
“Let’s go!” Ron said, holding his hand out, his face almost as confused as Granger’s, but a determined look in his eyes. Malfoy snatched his hand, and pulled himself to his feet, wide-eyed as he was practically towed from the cell, and yanked down the corridor. They were running faster than his feet could keep up with, and if not for Ron’s hand in his, Draco was sure he’d have fallen.
They rounded a corner, and he gasped, as they ran right at a dementor.
“Expecto Patronum!” Granger shouted, waving her wand. An otter flew from the end and chased the dementor back up the hallway, out of their path as they ran madly to Merlin-knows-where. Malfoy’s heart was hammering as they ran, as much from adrenaline, as from elation that Weasley had come back for him. He wouldn’t die alone, in a cell, without a trace of happiness.
* * *
Ron sped up the hallway after Bill, keeping pace with Hermione, his hand grasping Malfoy’s as they ran for their lives. It was exhilarating, but he was already out of breath, the stitch in his side like a knife, but he kept a firm hold on Malfoy’s hand, making sure he wasn’t lost as they turned corners, and he stumbled after them. He could hear the boy gasping for breath behind him, but couldn’t slow down. They had to escape.
Hermione banished a dementor, and they ran past, her otter floating along beside them, ready for any other threats. They ran through a doorway, that the door had already been blown off of, and rain pelted them from every direction. Wind howled, and the ground seemed to slip underfoot as he kept after Bill.
“Take Ron, I’ll take Malfoy!” Hermione shouted to Bill, falling back a few steps, to grab Malfoy’s other arm. “Ron, let go!” She called, as Bill grabbed his brother. He began to shake his head, but his hand was ripped away from Malfoy’s, the two pulling them apart. He panicked, turning to stare back at his companion, only to be sucked into the vortex of apparition.
He collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, and looking around wildly. Malfoy! Where was he? A loud *POP* sounded, pulling his eyes to the left, directly where Hermione and Malfoy had just appeared.
“Are you okay?” He gasped, scrambling to his feet, eyeing Malfoy. There was enough light here to see blood on his face and hands, and he pushed hair from his eyes with trembling fingers.
“Yeah, you?” Malfoy asked, staring into Ron’s eyes worriedly.
“Alright.” Ron answered, and looked around, trying to figure out where they were. They seemed to be in a small room, with a light on the ceiling, illuminating all the faces that watched each other. There were garden tools, and muggle things he didn’t have a name for. A shed. They were in a shed.
“Ron, why did we bring Malfoy?” Hermione gasped, holding her side, and trying to breathe properly after their sprint.
“He’s my friend.” Ron answered plainly, not wanting to explain it just then, and not really sure Malfoy even really WAS his friend. He could figure it out later. He wanted answers, first. “How’d you get in? Was anyone else there? What’s happened? How long were-”
“Slow down!” Bill admonished, holding up his hands in defense.
“Alright, first, explain what just happened.” Ron demanded, his eyes darting to Malfoy, and away. He seemed to be stuck to the floor, winded, and shaking. Not a threat by any means.
“We broke you out. We worked in teams, to get as many people out as possible. I don’t know if anyone else succeeded yet or not, but we should probably leave the shed, to make room for anyone else coming.” Bill held his hand out to the door, and Ron stalked toward it, paused, and turned back to his blond frienemy.
“Up you get.” He said, holding out his hand, again, to the blond boy. Malfoy took it without hesitating, and they pulled him to his feet, where he stood, trying not to fall over. Malfoy released his hand, and grabbed his side, in the same fashion Hermione had, his face twisted with pain as he followed Ron out of the shed.
“How long were we in there?” Ron asked, touching a long lock of red hair that fell in front of his face. It practically passed his nose.
“You were in nearly a year. Malfoy was in slightly less than you, since he got a trial, but still, almost a year.” Hermione answered, following along, her eyes darting warily to Malfoy, and then back to Ron.
“What’s happened since… Since he won?” Ron asked, seeing a dead Harry before him again.
“A lot’s happened. We mostly scattered, but we’re starting to regroup.” She eyed Malfoy again, and snapped her mouth shut.
“He’s locked a lot of people up. Killed even more. I’ve lost track of how many people he’s murdered this year, alone. So many went missing, too.” Bill supplied, also eyeing Malfoy distrustfully, as he led their small group across a field, and up the back stairs of a large three-story house.
“What about Mum, Dad, Ginny, George?” Ron asked, keeping one name from his thoughts. He couldn’t break down. Not yet. He could have a cry later.
“Mum’s with Ginny and George, somewhere safe. Dad’s in Azkaban, though hopefully not after tonight. Charlie’s abroad, trying to get foreign help, though it seems no one wants to touch Britain with a hundred kilometer pole. Percy’s… gone.” The way Bill said it left no doubt that Percival Weasley was no longer alive.
“Who else?” Ron asked, his throat closing around a lump as they entered the back door of the house.
“Lavender Brown, McGonagall, Seamus, and Kingsley all died the same night, most after You-Know-Who… killed Harry.” Hermione said, choking off briefly. “Professor Flitwick died fighting that week, along with a few students were killed later that week, trying to fight, still.
“Neville, your dad, Dedalus Diggle, Trelawny, and so many others have been caught, and either imprisoned, or killed. It’s been rather hard to keep track, as the papers are very limited about what information they’re allowed to print. We usually get a list of who’s been caught, who’s been sentenced. We’ve been assuming that if it doesn’t say they’ve been sent to Azkaban, they’re dead.” Hermione said, her head hanging, her bushy hair hiding her face, but Ron knew that she had tears on her face, just from her voice.
“What about my father?” Malfoy’s voice seemed to surprise them, and they looked at him, consideringly, Bill’s face holding a strange reluctance.
“He was put on trial. He’s alive, and still under You-Know-Who’s thumb. He managed to convince that evil demon that he had no part in you and Narcissa’s treachery, and publically disowned you both, to save his own skin.” Bill said, watching Malfoy carefully.
“Of course he did.” Malfoy said, his face holding no hint to his emotions. Ron could hear it in his voice though. He was hurt. Hurt, and angry.
“Where are we?” Ron asked, looking around the brightly lit kitchen they stood in, squinting at all the brightness, despite the night sky outside.
“This is-” Hermione paused, staring at Malfoy again. “Can we trust him?” She asked, looking from Ron, to Bill, to Malfoy. Before she could answer, someone came around the corner, wand in hand.
“What’s your business here?” The unfamiliar man asked the bunch. Ron stared worriedly at the man, but Bill stepped forward.
“A night, a day, and a war.” He replied, then gave Malfoy a look. “Also, we’ll need a new password.”
“That Malfoy’s boy?” The man asked.
“Yup. Ron insisted we bring him.” Bill replied, sounding displeased. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do with him, yet.”
“You don’t have to do anything with me.” Malfoy bit out, sounding peeved. “I get it. I’m not welcome. I’ll go.” He turned to leave, but Bill grabbed the back of his shirt, while Ron watched, concerned.
“Oh no. You’re not running off to tell them where we are. You’re staying right here, until the others get back, and we can talk about it.” He looked steely, and Malfoy went limp.
“Fine.” He said, his eyes darting to Ron, and away. “But just so you know, I’m not going back. Not ever.”
Ron looked understandingly at the blond. They’d killed his mother. He’d never feel the same about You-Know-Who, or that mark on his arm ever again.
“Well, come in, I guess. Get a shower, and clean clothes.” The strange wizard said, gesturing to his house. Ron and Malfoy shared a look, trying to determine if they were still friends, if they trusted one another.
“I’ll show you to your room. You can stay in the same one for now, we’re a bit full at the moment.” Hermione said, walking further into the kitchen, and beckoning Ron and Malfoy to follow.
“Wait, before you go exploring, I want to put a safety measure in place.” Bill said, his eyes narrowing at Malfoy.
“What kind of safety measure?” Malfoy asked, his eyes narrowing right back, reminding Ron of the boy from school.
“A charm, to keep you in the house, at the very least.” Bill said, lifting his wand, almost menacingly.
“Fine, whatever makes you feel better.” Malfoy snipped, standing up straighter.
“Domustructura Capistruma!” Bill said, circling his wand at Malfoy. A gold light formed from the tip, and trailed to Malfoy’s wrist, circling around, and settling against his skin, hardening into a gold bracelet.
“Happy now?” Malfoy asked, wiggling his wrist so the bracelet shook up and down.
“Hardly.” Bill said, and turned to walk from the room.
“Don’t mind him. He’s just worried about Fleur.” Hermione said, and led them from the kitchen, guiding them up a set of stairs, and to the second floor, where there were rows of closed white doors.
“This one’s yours. There’s only one bed, but it’s big. There’s a shower just down the hall, and men’s clothes in the closet.” Hermione said, gesturing to the door across the room. “There’s, um… Razors, and brushes, and such in the bathroom cabinets. Feel free to use anything.”
“Thanks, Hermione.” Ron said, giving her a warm smile. He could hardly believe he was really here, away from that horrible place. The only reason he didn’t feel it was a dream, was that it was bright, and not anguish-inducing.
“Thanks.” Malfoy mumbled, looking around the pristine room, but not moving to touch anything.
“I’ll be downstairs, when you’re done. You look starved. I’ll make you some dinner.” She said, eyeing Ron’s thin frame unhappily.
“I am starving.” Ron agreed, grinning widely. He looked forward to real food. Hermione hugged him tightly, and gave him one last appraising look.
“I’m so happy you’re back, Ron.” She said, and left, shutting the door behind her. Ron stared after her a minute, and then turned, to take in his new room.
He saw Malfoy, staring around, and decided he wasn’t ready for that discussion yet.
“I’m going to have a shower first.” Ron said, and hurried from the room, feeling his heart pound. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. He’d grown fond of the stranger in the cell next to his, but finding out it was Malfoy the whole time… He felt slightly betrayed. He’d known, the whole time. That’s why he hadn’t wanted to say who he was.
Ron found the bathroom, and locked the door behind himself, turning on the shower as hot as it would go, still feeling the chill from Azkaban under his skin. He stared at the mirror, taking in his reflection. There was a ginger mat on his face, just as filthy at his hair, which was equal parts plastered to his head, and sticking up in every direction. It practically reached his shoulders, and he dug through the drawers, finding a pair of shears to hack it off with. He started with the fringe in his eyes, snipping at it until it no longer obstructed his vision. Then went the locks near his ears, cutting out tangles, and messy clumps of filth. Then he went for the back, glaring at the mirror as he chopped away, not caring if it was even, or pleasant. He just wanted it gone. Someone could fix it for him later.
The mirror was steaming up, as he went at his face with the scissors, cutting his soiled beard as close as he could get to the skin. When he felt satisfied he could take no more off his face without hurting himself, he stripped the disgusting clothes, and hopped in the shower. He yelped, jumping right back out. Too hot. Way too hot. He turned it down, and stuck a hand in, testing it. Perfect. He jumped back in, and stood right under the water, rubbing it into his face, and hair, letting it run down his skin. He sighed, and grabbed the soap, using it liberally. Everywhere.
When he finally felt clean, and rather raw, he turned the water off, and shook his head, stepping out of the shower, to dry off. The towel was soft, and he pressed it into his face for a moment, enjoying the plush cotton. There was nothing in the world like a fresh towel.
He wrapped it around his hips, and dug around more, finding a proper razor. He found a can labeled shaving cream, and set it on the counter, trying to remember how his dad had done it. He’d never had to shave before. It couldn’t be that hard. He fiddled with cream, applying it to his chin and cheeks, and held the razor carefully, running it down his face.
There. Not hard at all.
By the time he walked back to his bedroom, he felt like a new man, clean, and ready to handle anything.
He stepped into the dark room, and frowned, slapping his hand along the wall, finding the switch, and turned the light on, looking for the blond he’d left alone.
Malfoy sat huddled in a corner, his face in his arms, looking tiny, and frail. He looked up when the lights went on, squinting, and taking in the sight of Ron, closing the door.
“Bathroom’s all yours.” Ron said, heading to the closet, his eyes staying on Malfoy.
“Alright.” Malfoy said, pushing himself to his feet, and leaving the room with stiff, pained movements. Ron watched him go, realizing for the first time, that he didn’t wear the Azkaban prison clothes. His were black, but too dirty to see any details. They might’ve been nice once, but no more. He was too thin, his pale skin waxy under the florescent lights. Ron felt sorry for him, and tried not to think of why he’d been hiding in the dark, in a corner. He could adjust back to real life. He would.
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The Hole