"Sorry ‘bout that, Harry." Ron began to apologize, but stopped short as he caught the staring contest between Harry and Draco. Harry was clenching his fists and a muscle in Draco’s jaw was twitching.

"You hurt him," Harry said, "and you’re dead. You know that, right?" Draco nodded. "Good." Harry left the two in the corridor.

"That’s the first conversation Potter and I have had that could even remotely be called civil," Draco said. "Ten points each to Slytherin and Gryffindor, I’d say."

"It was only civil because you didn’t speak," Ron countered, chuckling. His laughter faded and his countenance turned serious he turned to face Draco. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Go right ahead."

"That rumor. You know. Your reputation. Is any of it true?"

Draco held up his right hand, fingers splayed. "I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve been with. And that number includes you."

"Who?" Ron asked quietly.

Draco shoved his hand into his pocket and shook his head. "No. Bad idea all around. Never a good idea to discuss past lovers. Especially since they’re in the past." He took Ron in a tight embrace. "All that’s past, okay?"

"Okay," Ron answered, holding equally tight.

Draco pulled back for a kiss, his tongue flicking quickly between Ron’s lips. "We’d better go. We’ll miss curfew and we’ll be losing points. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The newest Hogwarts couple of Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley became the school’s newest scandal. A pin drop could be heard in The Great Hall the next morning at breakfast when they walked in together. They had decided not to overdo things in going public. They did not hold hand or kiss in front of others, but the mere sight of them, side by side, with no attempt to murder each other, caused more than one student to choke on their toast. They parted at the door and went to their own house tables, sitting as of nothing unusual were happening. Ron began chatting up Harry and Hermione as usual, while Draco eased carefully into conversation with Crabbe and Goyle. He wasn’t surprised to learn neither boy had a clue what was going on.

At the professors’ table, McGonagall leaned over to whisper in Dumbledore’s ear, "Is that not one of the first signs of the Apocalypse?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When the weekend rolled around, both boys bowed out of going to Hogsmeade. They stayed behind in Ron’s room, making love off and on throughout the day. Ron was astonished each time at Draco’s intense need that never seemed to be satisfied. He marveled at the way Draco used every part of his body in pleasuring and receiving pleasure. His body tingled from Draco’s mouth and tongue, hands, cock, skin.

Draped over the blond’s body, his head resting on the smooth contours of Draco’s chest, Ron stirred. He didn’t want to destroy the day they’d had together, but he had to know.

"Draco, can I ask you something?"

"Mmmm." Draco shifted slightly, his left arm pulling Ron closer. "Yeah."

"That day. That first time in the clearing. By the lake?" No response. "Why did you leave?"

Draco’s eyes snapped open. "You never ask easy questions, do you?"

"Sorry. It’s been bothering me. I mean, I told you how I felt and you left. Then you came to me later that same day acting as if you hadn’t. We have a brief spell of you trying to kill me, and now we’re together. I’m just trying to figure it all out."

Draco released Ron and pulled himself to sit against the headboard. "The short version? I got scared."

"Give me the long version."

"I knew you’d say that." Draco leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I was scared of what you were doing to me. I mean, we’ve hated each other for years. Since we met. For me, actually, since before we met. I’ve had it drilled into me all my life that the Weasleys were less than second-class wizards who didn’t deserve the scraps from our table. And I did enjoy treating you so horribly all those years. That’s something I got from my father – the ability to wallow in the misery of others. But watching you with Potter and Granger over the years, and you with your brothers, I got jealous. You have so much, I don’t think you even realize it. I can see that you don’t take it for granted, but you don’t know how much I want a family who will love me instead of beat me. A father who will ask me what I want to do with my life, instead of assuming I’ll follow in his footsteps, the very idea of which makes me sick to my stomach. You have friends. I have a goon squad of yes men who would lick my arse clean for me if I asked them to."

Draco was breathing hard from the revelation of what had haunted him for so long. He looked at Ron, his eyes filling with tears. "And I thought if I could have you, even just a part of you, some of that might rub off on me. At least, I might be able to experience some of it, if only for a few moments, while I was with you. Like you said that day, this is our last year here. I knew I didn’t have much more time." The tears spilled down his cheeks and he swiped at them angrily. "So. It’s my turn to apologize. I didn’t want to leave you that morning. When you said you wanted me, I panicked. I wanted you, but I didn’t want to want you, you know? I thought if I started acting like a prick again, I could make the feelings go away, but I was wrong. You thought we might have something together and so do I. I’m just afraid. When my father finds out he’ll probably kill me or, at the very least, disown me. He might even go after you or your family."

Ron crawled into Draco’s lap, pulling the covers tightly around both of them. "We’ll work this out. I promise. It’ll all be okay."

Draco grabbed him tightly, clinging in desperation. "Please don’t break that promise."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Quidditch match was over. The crowds that had teemed into the Gryffindor locker room to congratulate the winners had disappeared. Harry had stayed behind, not quite ready to join the celebration that had moved into the common room. He let the hot shower beat down on his back and neck, loosening and relaxing his muscles. He wondered if he’d dozed off when a voice snapped him back to reality.

"Potter." The blond stood just outside the shower room.

"I’ll be finished in a minute." Harry rinsed himself, turned off the water and wrapped the towel around his middle. His wet feet slapped noisily on the tile floor.

"Must be important for you to come into Gryffindor territory," Harry said, using another towel to dry his messy hair.

Draco had seated himself straddling a wooden bench not far from Harry. His hands gripped the sides of the bench, his knuckles turning white. "You never told him, did you?"

"No. I didn’t think he’d understand at the time."

"Are you going to tell him now?" Draco asked, finally lifting his eyes to meet the flashing emerald green ones he knew so well.

"No," Harry said again as he pulled on his uniform. "It would only hurt him, and I have no intention of doing that."

"Good." Draco nodded his head in agreement. "It was a mistake, anyway."

"Right. An aberration. A weak moment on both our parts."

"And incredibly stupid. I can’t imagine what we were thinking."

"We weren’t. It just sort of happened, remember?"

"Right," Draco said, standing to leave. "Anyway, thank you for not saying anything to Ron about our . . .time together."

"It’s not for your benefit that I’m not telling him, you know. He seems to really care about you. I just want him to be happy."

"Of course. I’ll just go then."

"You do that," Harry said, watching Draco leave. He finished dressing and, hoping to make his unruly hair behave, grabbed a comb and walked toward the mirror. He gasped seeing a figure behind his own reflection.

"Ron!" Harry spun around to face his best friend.

"And you told me it was unnatural for a Weasley and Malfoy. What would Lucius Malfoy say if he knew his son had fucked the famous Harry Potter?" Ron’s fists were clenched at his side, his face splotchy red, his eyes dark, glinting dangerously.

"Ron. Please. It was over two years ago. It only happened that once. We both knew it was a huge mistake right after. It never happened again. I . . ."

"Fucked Malfoy!"

"Yes, but I never told anyone. Neither did he. I swear to you. I’m sorry, I’m so, so . . ."

"Sorry, yeah I got that part. But you played me for a fool, Harry." Ron approached his friend, shaking his head. "I told you all about . . ."

"Not at first you didn’t. I had to find out from Malfoy!"

"But I did tell you eventually! Everything! You tried to make me feel bad about what I’d done, yet you said nothing. And based on your little chat with Malfoy just now, you never would have. You don’t think that’s an important piece of information? You, my best friend for seven years. Now that I think about it, though, I guess it would be hard to slip something like that into a casual conversation. ‘Oh, by the way, Ron. The guy you just fucked? I did him two years ago.’"

"I’m sorry, Ron. Please believe me," Harry pleaded.

"You said that already."

"It’s all I can think of to say. I hope you would know by now that I wouldn’t deliberately do anything to hurt you. You are my best friend, Ron. I love you, don’t you know that?"

"I’m not so sure about that."

"What?"

"Shut up!" Ron shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. "You lied to me. You should have told me. I wouldn’t expect such consideration from him, but you claim to be my best friend. You should have said something." He spun around and stalked out of the locker room.

"Ron!" Harry yelled after him. "Are we ever going to be okay?"

"Don’t hold your breath."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco had given Ron the Slytherin password, much to the chagrin of Draco’s housemates. Ron asked around the common room and was told Draco was in his dormitory.

He was sitting by the window reading when Ron came in and slammed the door. "I thought you’d be celebrating the victory. Not that it was much of a game. Those Ravenclaws were . . ."

"Shut up." Ron glared at him from across the room. "Let me see your hand."

"What?"

"Your hand. The one you can count your lovers on. You didn’t forget Harry, now, did you?"

"How did you . . .? That little sh. . ."

"I said shut up! He didn’t tell me anything. I overheard you in the locker room. Now I only want you to say one thing. The answer to this question: Did you fuck Harry?"

Draco’s jaw dropped open. "Oh, no. Ron. Please. Listen. . . "

"Yes or no," Ron said evenly. "The question is really very simple."

"Yes," Draco whispered.

"I fucking hate you." Ron hated himself at that moment, too, when he felt the tears building. But he did not want to cry in front of Draco. He turned to leave, his hand on the doorknob.

"Please let me explain. Just listen, don’t say anything, then you can go. Please?" Ron held fast to the doorknob, but wasn’t moving, so Draco continued quickly, the words tumbling over each other. "It was after a Quidditch match. Gryffindor beat Slytherin. Both of us had gotten drunk and were apparently looking for some time alone. I walked in on him on the third floor in an unused classroom. It was stupid, really. One minute we were yelling at each other, the next minute we were feeling each other up. It started with us jerking each other off, and wound up with us, well . . . Harry was my first guy. The only other one besides you. I guess I have that to thank him for, opening up a whole new world for me. Anyway, neither of us had anything to do with the other ever again. It was a mistake and we both knew it, so we vowed never to tell anyone."

"Not even me?" Ron asked quietly, his forehead resting against the door.

"No, not even you." Draco crossed the room and placed his hands on Ron’s waist, urging him to turn around. The tears that had threatened now cascaded down Ron’s cheeks. Draco placed his hands on either side of Ron’s face, thumbs brushing away the tears. "I’m sorry. I didn’t think it mattered. It happened once, but we both wish it had never happened. And it has nothing to do with us." Draco leaned in to kiss him, but Ron pushed him away.

"Don’t talk to me ever again, okay?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*