Chapter Text
Regrets
by Lady Bard
I always knew this day would come. Deep down, beneath the passion and the gitty joy, beyond even my moments of self awareness, it was clear that I would lose him and, that Harry Potter would win. I am a pathetic fool. I, a Malfoy, sit in a Muggle vehicle, with a pair of omnioculars to see Ronald Weasley pledge himself to Harry Potter. I have fallen so low.
I remember the first time we touched with out violence being a factor. Snape had partnered us for our NEWT-YEAR potions' project. The ordeal had gone on for months. I had got used to the Weasel at that point. It could even be said that I had begun questioning some of my upbringing.
It had been storming outside. The winds had howled and the thunder had rolled. The flashes of lightning had been right outside the window. The library was surprisingly empty. Seventh Years were given a lot of leeway when it came to study time and Weasley and I were making use of it.
I hated storms. It was a weakness that I had been unable to defeat. My father's*attempts* to help had only made it worse.
"scared, Malfoy?" I opened my mouth to deliver a scathing retort when the tone reached me. There was none of the sarcasm I expected but a genuine concern. I found myself nodding in reply.
That is when he touched me. He put his arms around me. I do not know how long we sat there with the wind and rain and rolling thunder. He spent the time murmuring comforting words that I cannot remember but the night staid with me.
We fell into a pattern. During the day, we relentlessly annoyed and angered one another. At night, or during study time, we would sit close together and talk. One memorable conversation staid with me.
"Explain it to me, Draco!" He was leaning forward, a determined look on his face. It was the same look I had seen for years, every time he cursed me or attacked me.
"What do you need explained?"
"Why do you hate us so much?"
"Gryffindor House, mudbloods, you? What?"
"All of that. I just... I find it so hard to reconcile the you that's right next to me and the one that spews venom at me all the rest of the time."
"I don't know why. It's expected. I've been thinking though, expectations aren't very good reasons to hurt people. I guess with you, I'm jealous. You have this wonderful family. They love you no matter what you do. You could probably join the Death Eaters and they'd be furious but their love would not waver."
I watched a look of wonder and awe touch his features. "Blimy Draco,." He gave me the most amazing smile I have, to this day, ever seen. "I forget that most of the time. I think, no, I know that I take them for granted. I get so mad at you. you seem to have all this money and power and respect and you throw it away on petty crap."
I blinked in astonishment as shame ran through me. No one had ever made me feel that way before. That's when it hit me, when I realized that Weasel had become Ron. I had managed to skip thinking of him as Weasley altogether. There must have been something on my face or, in my eyes because the next thing I knew I was in his arms. It felt good and perfect. I could never betray him. He had become more real to me than anything else I had ever experienced in my life.
We sat there for hours. His hands petting me as though I were some wild thing that needed soothing. And who knows, perhaps I was.
The only time we kissed was right before the final battle with Voldemort. We had been out of school a few weeks. We were sitting in the dark and for one of the rare times I could remember, we were alone.
He held out his arms and I was in them. I don't remember moving into them.
"It'll be over soon, Draco."
"I know!" He is so much taller than me, that it was easy for me to lean my head against his shoulder.
"Draco." He touched my face, tilting it slightly. Our lips were millimeters apart. We were breathing the same air.
"Draco." My name spoken on a sigh was the most precious thing I had ever been gifted. Then his mouth was on mine and the world stopped mattering.
The shocked "Ron!," was what broke us apart. To Granger and Potter, we weren't friends. I watched his face go as red as his hair.
The next day we were victorious. For most people, it was cause for celebration. For me, it was the beginning of a nightmare. My mentor, Severus Snape, had died as had Dumbledore. I wasn't sure who I was grieving for the most. I never thought I'd get to like the barmy old coot, but I had.
As the days turned into weeks and the weeks faded into months, I realized I was in trouble. My father had also perished though it did not pain me at all. The fact that my surname kept me from finding a job did. No one wanted to have the son of a prominent Death Eater working for them.
Ron, my precious Ron, was avoiding me like the plague. Why became obvious weeks later when the invitation came in with the morning post. It was cordially inviting me to the wedding of Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. The inclosed note begged me to understand. He wasn't strong enough to refuse but his heart was mine. I wanted to hate him. My world stopped. It hasn't managed to restart in the ensuing weeks.
I cannot enter the Weasley home and yet I cannot leave. The door opens and my Ron stands there but he is not my Ron and has never been so. Our eyes meet and I drive away.