Stand in the Ruins

Prologue from Ron:

So déjà vu. Here I am again on the steps of the Ministry, for the first time in eight months. Only this time I’m alone, not sandwiched between Death Eaters on the way to face Draco in the Arena. But I am waiting for him; praying he made it. And all we've done together, all of it, is running through my mind.

Crazy as it all sounds, I wouldn’t change a thing.

So we never considered just how little warning we'd have before Dumbledore's forces attacked the Death Eaters' Ministry. By which I mean — none whatsoever. My plan, such as it was, went all to hell, and I was forced to improvise all night with my heart in my throat. I could only imagine how much 'improvising' Draco had had to do.

Which is why he didn't meet me at the checkpoint, I'm sure.

Well, that and the fact that our checkpoint didn't exist anymore. I more or less found a pile of marble blocks that had once been it, I think. No doubt Draco was as confused as I was.

Once I stopped babbling nonsense, Dumbledore's men said the floor he'd been on was intact. Don't ask me how after that blast; I don't know how Alchemic magic works. That's advanced stuff.

They promised they'd get him out.

After an hour, and then two hours passed, still no Draco…. I'd say that I started to worry, but that wouldn't take into account the fact that I'd pretty much worried from the first, when we began our plan, months ago. Hell, even the day I saved Draco in the Arena. He worried me from the start. When you know how to plan, to think of contingencies, well that's just great — but it also means you never stop thinking of the worst.

Like now, while I waited for Draco. You get close to a bloke, you know? Even Malfoy.

He had the more dangerous job of taking out the Minister of Magic, Lucius Malfoy. I couldn't stop thinking about that.

It had been two hours, fifteen minutes.

I stared down the hole that had once held the super-secret Ministry, and adjusted the weird plastic hat I'd been given. My friend Xavier had slapped my shoulder and -- yeah, he's all right. Busted up, but all right. Never did find Andrew though.

Anyway.

Xavier told me if any Muggles happened by we were to keep them away, say this was "construction of a car park" whatever the hell that was. If they noticed any bodies we were to say, "There has been an accident, stand back" — though apparently we were sticking with the 'car park' story. 'Cause it was boring. So far only one had stopped by, and he said, "Yes, we need more parking around here," and wandered off. Surreal. Makes me wonder, do all their car parks glow orange and billow smoke? I just stared after him. I began to understand how our war had gone virtually unnoticed. Muggles are crazy.

Draco would call it proof of the superiority of wizards, of course. I wouldn't go that far. But they're definitely crazy.

It had been two and a half hours… but he was always late, right?

There was smoke and bodies and rubbish everywhere down below my feet. I understood that all through the battle the night sky had lit up in flashes, like some kind of weird storm.

Now, the grey morning fog around me was tinged with eerie magical colours, shifting lights; a magical holocaust, the centre of which was the Ministry Building itself. The fog was probably poisonous, but I stayed where I was. Lucius had rigged a lot more traps than I'd known, not that I was surprised. My recon was good, but I'd warned the Order I didn't know everything. Even Percy, as close as he was to Lucius, didn't know everything. Lucius Malfoy was too smart.

I leaned against the remnant of a wall that shifted behind me a little. The wand in my hand still felt strange after nearly a year under house arrest without one. At the same time, my hand curled around it like an old friend, though it was too thick, 'liberated' from a Death Eater who really was eating death right about now.

Don't look at me like that. These people killed my friends. And maybe more, but I refused to think of it just then.

When the first blast hit, Draco and I disentangled ourselves, scrambled out of bed swearing as we threw on clothes — thank God he's a light sleeper, 'cause I can sleep through, well, a war. We meant to be ready, to sleep dressed, but with the two of us… heh, that never lasted.

It had been three hours.

There were a million useful things I could be doing, should be doing. I could be with Percy, herding the last of the liberated prisoners. That trap spell of Lucius' had come as quite a shock. Should be hunting down Death Eater stragglers. Making sure the 'dead bodies' really were dead. But I was waiting for Draco. I promised. And I ignored the fact that even if I hadn't, I would be here anyway.

My mind still burned with the last image of him, looking serious and scared, his jaw tight and his eyes huge in the dark; usually they were grey, but they seemed black right then. He gave me this sarcastic look, and I could almost hear him think: 'What are waiting for, Weasley? A goodbye snog?' The fact he didn't say it… I couldn't speak either. He nodded, once, then set off down the hallway at a run.

He went the wrong way at first. The twit. I bet he hoped I didn't notice. Draco acts so sharp, he's so damned quick, and then he messes up like that. No wonder I worry.

I should never have let him go.

Three hours and fifteen minutes.

Of course, there's not a chance anyone could have stopped him. Draco with a plan is like that. And I couldn't even get him to do the dishes.

Three hours and twenty minutes.

That's it. Never mind orders. I left the checkpoint and picked my way down through the rubble, to the Ministry Building, property of Death Eaters, Incorporated no longer. The rickety ladder creaked underneath me, but we weren't allowed to use levitation charms unless absolutely necessary. I was telling myself I was an idiot the whole way: Draco would show up and find me gone, the walls would collapse on me — and those were the nicest scenarios I imagined.

Pillars leaned dangerously to the left and right of me, and bits of plaster cascaded over my shoulders as I jerked a door open as far as it would go. It scraped my chest as I squeezed through, and I really hoped that the building would hold up just a little longer, please? I'd learned the meaning of 'scared shitless' tonight, and anyone who calls themselves 'brave' during a war I'm going to laugh at from here on out. Brave is for duelling. Not for when a firebomb roasts the bloke right in front of you and you're alive just because you slipped on a pebble.

I held up a small, enchanted mirror in my left hand. It was set to reflect an illusion of an empty hallway to anyone looking at me from that side. Maybe it wasn't necessary to reflect nothing to the statues that lined the corridors, with all those empty eyes that I'd learned saw everything. Maybe no one was left to guard the halls, as they had for the last year when this was a prison. There was only a busted up marble hand or two to mark where the golems had been. But why take stupid chances? I like to think that I'm alive still because I'm careful, though I try not to think about all the blind luck involved.

My wand was ready, and I turned every corner, fast and low. A hastily thrown spell almost always went high. Draco taught me that. Funny Lucius Malfoy had trained so well the one who was going to kill him.

No one was there.

Only twelve hours ago this corridor had been bustling with smooth, efficient activity. Prisoners going to their jobs at the Ministry to run a government held by the Death Eaters. Now plaster dust was everywhere and I coughed, as quietly as I could. For the second time I saw the Ministry levelled, deserted. The destruction was even worse than when the Death Eaters captured us last year. Déjà vu. There's a lesson in there somewhere.

Heh. Like don't work for the Ministry of Magic. In my mind I turned in my resignation, thank you very much, I quit.

The stairs down were dangerous. Exposed. Every instinct in me jangled as I tried to keep an eye left, right, below, to the side over the banister. I could almost hear Draco's voice whisper: don't forget to look up, and I glanced up, too. He taught me a rough lesson on that one, dropped on me from the fucking ceiling! I'd had a shitty day at work, opened the door to our flat and Wham! the crazy bloke I lived with was on top of me. I was really hacked off at the time. But last night I'd learned how important that lesson was. When I found him I was going to thank him — after I wrung his neck for worrying me and making me go look for him.

All the wards were down, and I didn't need a single one of Percy's passwords to get to the Minister of Magic's office. I don't know why that scared me.

I edged open the heavy mahogany doors to the Minister's office, getting low, wand ready.

The first thing I registered was that the blond hair was short, and it wasn't Lucius Malfoy who was dead.

The next was the fact that dead bodies didn't sit there with their arms wrapped around their legs. I don’t think. But Draco didn't move or look at me.

The third was an open closet door. Inside the closet on the far wall was another door that opened on a lovely garden scene with eerily clear blue sky. Eerie, because I knew it was grey outside. Draco stared at it.

Traces of magic, broken wards, crackled around him. My mind and its damnable contingencies thought it pretty likely Lucius had set a trap spell or bomb here.

"Draco?" He didn't turn towards me. "We have to get out of here."

He sighed and put his head in his hands. "Fuck off, Weasley."

Gladly. Now stand up and we can both fuck off, sod off, whatever you like. So long as we're not here. But six months with the high-strung Draco Malfoy had taught me not to set off that bomb. I just stood there, and waited. Quietly ready to wet myself.

"All right," he spat at me. "I didn't do it."

Yeah. I'd kind of guessed that. He sat staring at the floor between his legs, like he was waiting for me to give him shit about it. As if I would.

"So… fuck off. Get out of here, Weasley."

I squatted next to him and said, "I don't believe any of your bullshit any more. Just so you know." If we die, we die. I couldn't live with leaving him.

"I despise you."

"Uhm-hmm. Things like that."

He stared straight ahead again. I followed the direction of his eyes. The garden scene was quite lovely.

"So. He went in there?" I wondered why Draco hadn't chased him.

"No. He went through that door, but that's not where he went."

No, it made no sense to me either, but I decided not to press the issue.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I couldn't do it."

I nodded. I didn't say it out loud, but I was glad he didn't kill Lucius. For his sake. "I think there's some things you can't do without becoming a monster."

"I already am a monster." He turned to me and his eyes flashed. What he said should have shocked me, but like I said, I'd been with Draco a while.

"There you go with the bullshit again." God. Did I have to pick someone so neurotic? Something crackled and sizzled behind me. I knew better than to argue with him, and just put an arm around his shoulder.

Without thinking I pulled him close. "I love you, you little bastard," I said into his hair.

I don't know why I said it, why I would leave myself wide open like that; I mean, this was Draco we were talking about. Maybe since I was already bleeding — what's a little more? The victory was hard to take. I didn't know who was alive or dead, my life of the last year was in a shambles all around me. Some practical — and I'm always practical — voice in my head pointed out that it would pass. Somehow Draco understood me.

"Ron." Draco's breath was hot on my shoulder, his voice unnaturally tight. "If you ever cry in front of me… don't make it now. Please."

I nodded, once. Though it was the hardest thing he'd ever asked me to do right then. He'd always asked too much of me.

"Die and I'll kill you," I said in a hoarse voice. Now there was a believable threat. "Let's get out of here."

Draco nodded meekly and stood. But instead of following me, he limped over to the door inside the closet, and closed it. And then opened it again. It showed a beach now, with a sunset gilding the water. He shut the door and opened it once more. A jungle at night.

"Haven't seen the same place twice," he said absently. "I opened and closed it for… I dunno, I guess it was hours." Draco wasn't exaggerating, I knew. You couldn't say he wasn't single-minded. "He's gone."

His father. I was well aware Draco would never admit how much he missed him already.

"C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up. I think your nose is broken." I pulled Draco gently away from the door. I wasn't worried about trap spells anymore. Opening and closing that magical door would have set off everything in the room. Trust Draco not to think of that. Or care.

He staggered next to me, knocking into things he could've easily missed. He kept glancing back at that door as I led him out of there. He looked right past me, his face wide open like a little kid's. He seemed sort of… happy, if I were to guess, which was too strange for words. I mean, even for Draco.

When we finally got out of the Ministry building, which had been our home and our prison for a year, no, make that a million years… I found myself out in a world that was too wide and too open. The curve of sky above us had cleared a little, though the acrid tang in the air made my eyes burn. I blinked it away. It occurred to me that I really hadn't seen the sky in a while. Even while I was waiting for Draco. There wasn't a soul around. Well, not a living soul anyway. There were plenty of bodies.

I swung an arm around Draco's shoulders, and sighed. Nothing had exploded. We made it. "You know what? The first thing I'm gonna do is find something to eat. I'm starving!"

He still seemed miles away.

"You're always hungry," he said, a little late.

I ignored that. "And you know what I'm gonna do after that?"

"What?"

I squeezed him closer. "I'm going to fuck your brains out."

Draco burst out laughing, finally looking up at me with bright eyes.

"You're sick, Weasley." He gave me a brilliant smile, and I grinned. My face kind of hurt, like I hadn't done that in a while. "I'll take that in the opposite order, thank you."

"What? You need energy!"

"I have plenty of that." He sure didn't look it, but he glanced around as if he expected a bed to appear right there for his convenience. Probably had, for most of his life anyway. "So. Where are we going to sleep? Or, well, whatever. Our quarters are roughly over there, in that pile of rubble." He pointed to what looked like a cave-in, once the north wing. It was weird seeing just this hole in the ground and all these Muggle buildings around us, like they'd appeared from nowhere. The Ministry seemed so… small.

"Oh, uh… I — I don't know. I didn't think…."

"Tsk. Typical. Weasley, how does your family manage to survive? Is it like turtles? Mass produce so one or two might bumble on to breed?"

"Spoken like a bloke with a truly small prick." Annoying prat. He'd pay for that!

"Crude, Weasley. You always hit below the belt."

"And you don't?!" I dragged him into a headlock, until he squirmed free. "Ow! Ow!" All right, all right, I let him go. But, shh! Don't tell him that.

I pointed out reasonably. "If we find Percy, we'll find Dumbledore. If we find Dumbledore, we'll find food. There's simple logic for you. Even you can follow it, Malfoy."

"Food, and a place to… sleep?" Draco smiled a very dirty smile at me. Did I mention he has a one-track mind?

I laughed and wrapped my arm around him again. "Yeah. Sleep."

I didn't even look back at the Ministry.

~*~*~

So. Malfoy went back to the family Manor with his mum. I went home. Even my Chudley Cannons posters look weird. Such a strange world that could create something like that, just for entertainment — and we didn't even have to steal them. I lie back on my bed and stare at the flapping orange robes. Though I'm glad to be here. Quidditch is starting up again soon.

Turns out, Percy got pretty popular releasing the prisoners — they knew nothing about my part in planning it all, so they think Percy saved them. Yeah, and I notice he's not going out of his way to straighten them out on that either. And no one can convince him it was Draco who dropped the wards. Ah, hell. I'm not the one running for Minister of Magic.

Yep, he's running — against our father, too, the current Minister. Says he's already done the job (ha, Lucius used him). He even had the nerve to ask Dad to step down. Well, I know Percy better now. No doubt he thought it was 'polite' and 'gentlemanly,' and not the slap in the face it was. Don't get me started.

I've decided for the sake of peace in the family to have no opinion in the matter, but between you and me? I'm hard-pressed to think who'd be worse, Dad or Percy. We're gonna be missing Lucius pretty soon. He was a scary bastard, but the most effective Minister we ever had. Not that it makes any difference. Both Percy and Dad offered me my job at the newly re-formed Ministry. The same position and authority I'd held under Lucius Malfoy. Percy told me what great work I'd done, all my qualifications and skills as a manager, they'd be happy to have me, blah, blah, blah.

Then he named a very impressive salary. Dad had to repeat it for me. It would keep Draco in silk for, well, only a week knowing him — but anyway, it was a lot for me. And quite a lot for a bloke who was only twenty years old, too. I'd been poor my whole life, and before Lucius Malfoy I'd had no prospects really, once the Auror Academy turned me down. (Heh. Twice.) To be asked to head the Office of Personnel for the entire Ministry of Magic was quite something. Even though I'd held the job for a year already, and knew it like the back of my hand. Mum was really excited. And it would be pretty easy. I understood what was involved, and it had been a cake-walk really.

I have to admit, I wasn't even tempted for a second. I mean, I love my family and all, but I'm afraid I laughed in their faces.

I'm getting to be as rude as Malfoy.

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