Drabbles:

1. Less Than Sane


After that first night with Draco, he was still asleep while I got dressed to go to work as if everything were normal. I went to my office and just stared at the wall, never mind playing darts or anything. I’d completely cracked. I mean, I slept with Draco Malfoy. I’d saved his life and then I… it had all made sense the night before. Somehow.

I decided no matter how low I’d fallen, that was the limit. We could kill Lucius without, um, all that.

Heh. That didn’t last.

3. Problem, Anyone?


Now I could tell those girls in Slytherin, the ones with the Maternity Charms? — yeah, Draco’s told me all about that shit — that playing hard to get doesn’t work with Malfoy. But being easy to get, and then saying ‘no’ after you’ve had him? That’s an insult in his book.

He came to my office, sat on my paperwork, and put his foot up on my chair. With me in it.

Wanted to know what my problem was.

4. The Rules of the Game


I explained all the prison rules to Malfoy. There were a lot of them. Sections were not to mix, the curfews, rations, the lines to do laundry once a week, work hours — though we could work overtime if we wanted. Ha.

Finally he asked, “Did you have to kill someone for that blanket?”

“No. Percy got it for me.” When I saw his funny look I explained. “He works overtime.”

“For Death Eaters?” Wasn’t much I could say to that. Percy was Percy.

Then Malfoy got this pitying look on his face. “Just how long have you been here, Ron?”

5. Sotto Voce


You'd think after living with someone for months you’d know everything about them. But I came home a little early one day and as I opened the door, I heard this singing. Just one high, choirboy voice. I think it was Italian. I stayed absolutely still, hushed.

I didn’t make a sound until his singing stopped. And I didn’t move for a moment after that, either.

I never told him that I heard.

6. The Beach


Draco taught me his trick of getting through the weekly ‘rah-rah Death Eater’ meetings — he’s done them since he was a kid. While they droned on, we visualized a beach so clearly, you could count the sparkling grains of sand as they sifted through your hands. He built sand castles, while I had seagulls, rocks, and different tides, and seaweed washed up onto the beach. Heh. No doubt with our glazed, happy faces we looked like good little Death Eaters.

7. Invisible Friend


Strange, that Draco never mentioned his friends. I mean, I talked about Harry all the time. Actually — now this is going to sound crazy — I also talked to Harry. Little habit I started before Draco arrived, when I was alone. I used to tell Harry everything, and well, I was never one to talk to myself. Heh. Just so long as he doesn’t answer back, right? Once Draco arrived, I mostly talked to Harry about him. Just working some things out, you know. I suppose I just wanted to share Draco with someone, and, well, the whole thing was rather strange.

8. Open Door Policy


I only let him top me on my desk the one time, I mean, I have an open door policy. Of course it goes both ways with us. Fair's fair. I can still feel the robes bunched up around my waist, and see the smile wash across his face as he came.

He said, 'I can't believe I'm having hot sex with Weasley.'

I couldn't believe he said we were having hot sex. Not that I didn't agree. But compliments from Draco were rare, and you'd better not say anything if one slipped out, or he'd take it back.

9. Guess Who?


Draco turns up at my office sometimes -- scares the piss out of me when there’s suddenly hands over my eyes and a whispered, “Guess who?” into the back of my neck. How he can sneak up on me… my desk faces the door! It’s liked being pounced on by a baby tiger; you know it’s playing, but he’s also learning how to kill. Blind, heart racing, I think: Lucius is a dead man.

10. A Little Practice


One time I come home with a bunch of packages and this dead-weight drops on me from the ceiling. Crazy bloke! That was it for the eggs. As I disentangled myself from Draco, he lectured me: “Always look up! How many times do I have to tell you? Keep your eyes open!”

“Could you not do this on ration day?”

“So sorry, Ron. Let’s check with the Death Eaters and schedule the war around your busy social calendar. Does next Tuesday at two suit?”

11. A Mad Plan


Maybe we were crazy. Oh, all right, Draco and I are definitely crazy. But I believe we over-estimate the Death Eaters. No — hear me out. It’s only human, I think, to exaggerate how powerful your captors are. I mean, who wants to admit you lost to some weakling, right? But I’ve lost to bad chess players. Winning doesn’t make them any better. It’s irrational, and it keeps people from fighting back.

12. Music

Ron settled the instrument on his knee, stroked the cool wood. He didn't care if Draco'd had to sell his arse for this -- it was worth it. The strings squeaked slightly as he tried an experimental thrum.. paused to tune the E-string. Better. Bill was cool in a lot of ways, and had taught his little brother a few chords.

Ron had never been very good, but like most things he worked at it steadily because he liked it; now he had the time. Amazing it was easy to get a guitar, but just pure hell to find a pick. He pulled it out from where he held it between his teeth (he'd been told never to do that, but..) and hesitantly began to tickle out the melody, soft as water, his head bent in concentration. He'd worked on this one for weeks. He almost had it, too.

He hummed a little, slightly off-key, to bring a chord to mind -- ah. It fell into place, a perfect stroke. Then began again, lost in the magic of the song he could now play, his hand shifting along the complaining fret, firm but tender.

As he finished and returned to earth, he felt the weight of eyes on him and blinked up at Draco.

"I think you've improved."

"You don't have to sound so surprised."

He sat down next to Ron. "If it were a surprise I wouldn't've have wasted my money in the first place."

It took Ron's confused mind a moment to work that out to a compliment, which he carefully stored away with other such rarities from Draco. He chewed his lip hide his smile and began a rambling non-tune, plucking gentle notes, then shifted into a song Draco knew.

Halfway in, he could almost feel Draco hum, just below hearing. He always did that, but never sang.

"C'mon.. you know this one," Ron nodded at him, continuing to play.

"I don't sing."

Ron chuckled. Sure. "I've heard you a million times."

"I'll have to stop singing in the shower. There aren't any decent silencing charms in this place." Draco sighed wistfully.

"You have a nice voice."

"Your standards are low, and I'm not making a spectacle of myself." Draco leveled a gaze a Ron. "I can carry a tune, that's the extent of it." It was a convincing argument. Too bad it was belied by the hunger on his face, and his slight hum whenever Ron played.

Ron was thoughtful for a moment, letting the notes wash over them. Sometimes it felt like his hands played of their own accord.

"You know, Draco, you don't have to be the best at everything. I'm not the best at, well, a lot of things, but that doesn't stop me." He didn't look at Draco as he spoke. He waited for that to sink in.

Then he glanced over with a grin, "Besides, if you don't sing - I will."

"Well, if you're going to make threats..."

Ron couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. He laughed, and restarted the same song. He kept his eyes carefully on the strings, which he didn't need to watch any more to play though Draco didn't have to know that. Draco began tentatively, didn't sound nearly as good as he usually did. But slowly his light, clear tenor rose above the soft thrum of the guitar.

Ron's eyes lit up, careful not to let Draco see.

13. More To A Kiss


Ron leaned down to kiss Draco, his warm, firm lips parting beneath him. He remembered when they didn't kiss. Rather silly, given everything else they were doing. Then one night, they just – did it. It started with nips and kisses to the chest, neck, a little nibble at the ears, mouth sliding along his jaw... Ron was surprised, and then amazed that they hadn't done this before.

It had become a personal favourite to get Draco all hot and bothered, then silence his sighs, feel his breaths against his cheek, with that up-close white smile as they parted for a moment, wet and bemused. He found Draco was a pro at kissing, cool and collected. He responded effortlessly to every little signal; while Ron knew how to pour his soul into a kiss, and liked to make the other person forget if they're sitting or standing.

That first time, well, Draco's chest just rose and fell for a full minute, his lips still parted. He didn't say anything though, just leaned up for more.

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