Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Sakura ❯ Year Five: Chapter Eleven ( Chapter 11 )

Disclaimer: My name is not J.K. Rowling nor am I part of the wonderfully talented Mangaka quartet known as CLAMP.

Title: Sakura

Pairing: RWxDM

Warnings: Slash, Angst and Flangst

Spoilers: OOTP

POV: Ronald Weasley; passive

 

Chapter 11

Morning came too soon. Ron laid in bed willing the sun to sleep forever, something he'd given up for himself hours ago. He just couldn't fathom how he was going to make it through the day.

He wished that he could just stay in bed all day but knew that doing so wouldn't solve anything. The best he thought he could do would be to wait three more days when Christmas break started and try to patch things up with Harry as best he could while they were at the Burrow, away from Hogwarts and away from Malfoy.

Christmas was another thing he began to worry about. Ginny and his brothers obviously knew so there was nothing to stop his parents finding out. He was terrified to find out how they would react. They'd be furious with him of course; the Weasleys and the Malfoys hated each other. He just hoped that they would at least be a little understanding and listen to what he had to say. His parents couldn't hate him after all. Could they?

He sat up and drew open the curtains on his bed. It was already dawn; pale light filtered through the window and filled the room. His room mates were all still asleep. He quietly climbed out of bed and dressed himself, looking at his watch to learn that it was only six-forty. He grabbed his school bag and checked to make sure he had all his books for the day's lessons.

It was still a little early to be going down to the Great Hall for breakfast so instead Ron sat in the common room. He tried to make some stuff up for his dream journal but soon gave up. It just wasn't the same without Harry.

He heard movement from the dormitory stairs. He didn't feel up to dealing with anyone yet so he packed his stuff and left before anybody saw him. The Fat Lady yawned and shifted as her portrait closed behind him but continued to sleep as he made his way down the hall.

He took the long way down, having no desire to go near the secret stairs. Though he new the fear was irrational he was still afraid he'd see Malfoy. Ron still didn't know what he was going to do about him. He kept telling himself that he was going to stop what the two of them were doing but he was afraid that when he saw him he wouldn't be able to. His mind kept telling him that everything that had happened was entirely Draco's fault but something inside of him felt bad for the other boy. He was in Slytherin after all; he was probably getting the worst of it.

Ron reached the Great Hall and entered to see all four tables empty, all the platters bare. He sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table nearest the doors, his back facing the Slytherin table. He didn't pull out any of his school work this time. He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on it. Instead he picked a spot on the wooden table and fixed his gaze on it, resting his chin on his arms. He was sitting there for a while before he heard the first group of students enter the hall. He didn't look at them but he did hear them hesitate when they entered before hurrying over to one of the other house tables.

He wished he could say something to them but knew that if he opened his mouth he'd only succeed in sounding like an idiot. So instead he sat in silence as more and more students entered the Great Hall, all of them throwing glances at him over their shoulders.

Finally the food appeared on the platters and all the students began digging in. Ron filled his plate; not really paying attention to what he grabbed, and glanced down the Gryffindor table. He saw Ginny who seemed to be making it a point not to look at him, Neville, who had a sour look on his face as if he was fuming over a recent argument, and he wasn't sure but he thought he might have seen Hermione's bushy brown hair all the way at the other end of the table. There was no sign of Harry. Bringing his attention back to the plate in front of him he began picking at his scrambled eggs.

He had picked the end of the table for the quick escape it provided. Real common sense must have eluded him when he made that decision though as he now realized everybody who walked through the doors could see him the moment they entered. What made that problem bigger was:

“Draco?”

Hearing the name Ron couldn't stop himself. He felt his neck move on its own and soon his head turned towards the door where his eyes met with the cold gray of Malfoy's. The other boy was glaring at him, a scolding glare almost like the ones his mother would give him when he did something particularly stupid. Ron felt his cheeks flush and his heart start racing as Draco hovered in the doorway, looking like he was about to walk over to Ron and slap him upside the head.

“DRACO.”

Eye contact was broken as Draco turned and regarded the dark skinned boy calling him. Blaise Zabini walked back towards Draco and placed an hand on his shoulder, directing him away from the door and away from Ron, but not before he shot a warning look in his direction.

Ron let out the breath that he had been holding and turned back to his breakfast, forcing some more of it down, and tried not to think about what had just happened. He felt something in the pit of his stomach, something he'd felt before his previous year when he saw Hermione dancing with Victor Krum at the Yule Ball. Was he jealous? Jealous of what though?

He turned to look at the Slytherin table but Draco had his back to him, Blaise was leaning toward him, saying something in Draco's ear. The feeling flared up again and Ron felt his ears turn so hot he had to force himself to turn away. He suddenly felt an urge to walk over and punch Zabini in the nose. It would certainly help to alleviate some of the frustration he'd been feeling for the past month. He felt startled by this sudden emotion but before he could try to analyze it his thoughts were disrupted by a rush of feathers as the usual morning post flew in. Since he wasn't expecting any letters he paid no attention to the birds flying over head so he was surprised to hear the familiar chirping of Pig as he enthusiastically fluttered his way toward Ron.

The manic bird flew circles around Ron's head, too excited to remember that he had to land and stay still to deliver his letter. Ron managed to catch him and untie the letter from his leg. He placed Pig on the edge of his plate so that the owl could pick at the mound of food still sitting on it as he looked over the envelope. He immediately recognized his mother's handwriting and felt a horde of butterflies evict all strange emotions as he opened it.

Dear Ronald, it stared and he had to stop to take a breath. It was usually never good when his mom used his name like that.

 

Dear Ronald,

Your father and I have heard some rather unpleasant and disturbing news concerning you and Lucius Malfoy's son. While I'm less than pleased and very disappointed in your poor choice your father on the other hand is so furious I fear he might do something rash. I think you should stay at school for Christmas until he calms down and we know how to deal with this. Professor Dumbledore and your head of house have already been notified.

Love,

Mom

 

He read it again, not sure that he had read it correctly the first time, and then again and again until his stomach began to feel sick and his vision blurred. He didn't expect his parents to be happy about it but he never thought that they wouldn't let him come home for Christmas.

Pig had another bout of excitement and let out a rather loud hoot that sounded closer to a squeak as he flew away and caused a lot of heads to turn his way. He felt his chest and throat tightening again and soon found himself struggling to breathe. The burning in his eyes was starting to become unbearable so he tried blinking it away. The burning didn't stop thought but got worse as he loosened up the tears sitting at the edge of his vision and he heard the whispers start.

He put the letter down on the table and shakily stood up. He didn't bother looking at anybody. He didn't want to see any of their faces mocking him. He walked as calmly as he could out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. He didn't care that he left the letter there for everyone to read or that he left his school bag with his wand and all of his books in it. He didn't care about all the strange looks he was getting from other students as he made his way through the first floor.

He didn't know where he was going either. He had promised himself that he was going to get through the day, that he would make it through the next three days. Now all he wanted to do was disappear. He had told himself that once he reached the Burrow for the holidays that somehow everything would get better. Now he wasn't going to have the Burrow. Nothing was going to get better.

As he continued to trudge through the corridors he heard running footsteps behind him. He ignored them. He didn't care who it was or where they were going.

“Ron!”

He was surprised to hear that voice calling his name. He hesitated for a second but immediately broke into a run. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want him to comfort him. It would only make the situation worse and make it harder for Ron to say no.

He heard Draco curse and start running after him. Ron pushed himself to run faster. Everything that Ron was feeling at that moment was because of the boy chasing after him. All of the pain; all of the confusion, humiliation and anger; all of the emotions Ron didn't understand—all of them were his fault.

Upon reaching the stairs Ron stumbled. Not enough to fall but enough to give his pursuer time to catch up. As he righted himself Ron felt Draco grab his wrist from behind him.

“For Gods sake Weasley would you just wait?”

The two boys stood there panting on the stairs. Ron didn't turn around. He stared at the steps in front of him, trying to catch his breath. His mind had gone blank. He didn't know what to say to Draco, didn't even know what he wanted to say. He felt torn between turning to punch him in the face and throwing himself into Draco's now familiar arms. Instead of doing either though he just stood there, hot tears streaming down his face.

Still holding his arm Draco walked up the stairs until he was just about at Ron's eye level. Ron turned his head, trying to hide his face. He didn't want Draco to see him crying.

Draco let go of his hand though and brought both of his up to Ron's face. Draco dried his face with the sleeves of his robes and, grabbing his chin, forced Ron to look at him. Their eyes met and Ron noticed that Draco's looked sad. There were no tears but they were genuinely sad.

Draco rubbed his thumb over Ron's bottom lip. Ron closed his eyes expecting the other to kiss him. He didn't though, much to Ron's surprise. Instead he pulled Ron close to him and wrapped his arms around him in a gentle, comforting embrace.

“It's okay,” Draco said and suddenly it was like a dam was broken somewhere inside of Ron.

He clutched at Draco's robes and buried his face into his shoulder and cried. He was aware that students were still passing by them but found that he didn't care what they thought about at that moment in time. He knew that later when he thought back to it he would hate himself but again, he didn't care. He didn't even care that it was Draco, the one that had caused all of his turmoil for the last month. It was like those two words were a release. Something he had been longing to hear someone say.

It wasn't much but those two words at least told him that it was okay for two boys to feel this way—even if they were the only ones who thought so.