A Dagger Named Draco

Part 2:

I opened the door to our dormitory and was submerged into world of dim candlelight. Then, I saw Ron in a most frightening position. He was sitting on the edge of the windowpane, his legs dangling over the edge of the castle, wearing nothing put a pair of shorts. He looked very pensive, which was unusual for him, staring up at the stars. When he finally noticed I was in the room, he said, "Oh, Harry! The stars are lovely tonight, aren't they?" His tone was bright. Too bright.

"Erm, I didn't see them yet," I spoke. I took a few steps over to him.

"Wanna sit?" he asked congenially. "The stars are really quite lovely tonight!" He smiled at me, but it didn't seem right. It was too forced, the smile.

"Why don't we sit over here," I said, sitting down on my bed. "It's really rather cold out."

Ron's face took on an odd expression I could not read. "Why, are you afraid I might pull a Percy and jump?" he said somewhat bitterly. Apparently, he must've told Hermione to tell me, or otherwise came to the correct conclusion that she did.

I frowned at him slightly. "I was thinking that maybe we could just..." but I couldn't finish. I wanted to say something like "be together" or "cuddle", but the words would not come. Something was wrong, and that something was Draco prodding me mentally, as if to say, "But we just had sex, you idiot!"

"I understand," said Ron, practically jumping up from the window, giving me the scare of a lifetime. I swore he would fall. "You want to play, don't you?" He rushed over to the bed and tackled me onto it. I fell onto my back, feeling really quite uncomfortable. It wasn't even the fact that Draco and I were together a mere hour ago, but the fact that his brother had just killed himself, and he wants to fool around? This was not a conventional method of dealing with grief. Plus, Ron was never this affectionate to me.

He kissed me playfully and mussed my hair more than it already was, and damn near tore my shirt off by the buttons, which still were not done up right. He wouldn't ever see that apparently. He broke away from me for a moment, stopping the kiss and licking his lips.

"You taste kinda funny," he said, wrinkling his nose at me as I panicked inside. "Like... coffee, not tea."

I was holding my breath because I half thought he was going to put it together that Draco always drank coffee, and I just happened to taste like coffee. However, I realized he was not in a right state. He brushed it aside and kept kissing me.

Still, by Ron's standards, he was being overly romantic. Under normal circumstances, had he done this, my heart would have leapt with such joy and pleasure that I most likely would have completely lost it. Unfortunately, these were the most abnormal circumstances I had ever been in, regarding my romance with him. Dead brother + unfaithful boyfriend = extreme affection? Of course, he only knew of the one part. Still, none of it clicked together in my head. There was no way in heaven or hell that I could be turned on by this all, knowing what I knew. I couldn't fulfill his current need. I stopped him the moment he went for my jeans button.

"Ron," I said, pushing his hand away, "don't you think that maybe we should talk-"

"No," he said firmly, going for my jeans button again. Once again, if this were to happen at any other time, I would have been completely submissive to him-it would have made me crazier than anything, since he has NEVER been like this before. Instead, I forced myself to grab his hand and push it away.

"Ron, I'm serious," I said. "This is not right at all. We can't do this, not after what happened with-"

Ron sighed with extreme exasperation. "What the hell!" he said, rolling off me and turning onto his side. "All I try to do is try and make everything a little better and what happens? You just push me away!"

"You are putting off what needs to be done," I said, sitting up. "You need to accept it."

"No, I don't," he said stubbornly. "You have no idea what it is like to lose-"

I frowned at him and said, "Don't I?"

"Well, you never had to hear your Mum crying every single night for him," said Ron. "You never had to get a letter from the London morgue saying a person, your brother, that had everything going for him and a family that loved him, did all they could for him, just go off and slit his wrists in a back alley. It didn't even come by owl. It came by Muggle mail! A wizard didn't even find him! And... we would have taken him back! We would of forgiven him!" he said, his voice quavering with little tears in his eyes, slamming his fist down on my pillow. "We wanted him back! And now my mother, she will never be the same again. Now, Percy's gone for good, and you know what? She'll be crying until the day she dies for him, and that is just because its her way. And... and..." He was full out sobbing, now. "This doesn't make sense! Why would he torment us like this? Why did he write us, say he is 'coming home', and then just go kill himself like that?"

I put my arms around Ron and hugged him, the poor thing. He buried his face in the hollow of my neck, sobbing hysterically. I had never seen him cry before, and after seeing it, I realized that he had just spilled his ever-loving guts out onto the table for me. He trusted me with all of his heart. This, in turn, made me want to vomit. My guilty conscience would not let me enjoy accepting his trust in me. Instead, Draco's smirking face decided to make yet another appearance in my head. I wanted to die.

Still, a minute possibility came forth from the depths of my mind. Perhaps, all of the distraction that Percy's untimely death created will distract everyone for long enough for me to deal with my guilt and get on with it. Maybe, just maybe, all of this will pass without events, and I wouldn't have to tell Ron a word of it. For a moment, that possibility almost seemed, well, possible.

For one single moment

I suddenly felt Ron pulled away from me, licking his lips. His expression on his face was something of curiosity. "Harry?"

"Yes?" I said, also quite curious.

"You taste like blood," he said, raising one eyebrow. "I mean, your neck. Is it bleeding?"

I felt my neck, wiped off a mixture of Ron's tears and what I thought was my sweat onto my finger, and tasted it. It was rather salty, apparently from Ron's tears, but it did taste like blood.

"Harry," he said seriously, "did you get attacked on your walk? I mean, why else would you be hurt there?"

"What walk?" I said, conveniently forgetting that my apparent excuse was going for a walk. "Oh, you mean my walk? Erm, no, I don't-" But then something exploded into my mind...

*FLASHBACK*

"...fuck, yes, Draco. You know I hate it when bite me like that..." My body was writhing and contorting against his uncontrollably, undoubtedly suiting his every need. He stopped for a moment and looked at me in the eyes.

"But I love it, Potter, so you are going to have to live with it."

*end flashback*

My eyes widened in horror as I clutched my hand to my neck. Ron looked at me with an expression of unwanted understanding. He shook his head and said, "No, it wouldn't be right. It could not happen."

I did not speak. Instead, I froze. My eyes were set in panic mode, and I felt like I was going to throw up.

"You did, didn't you?" he said, trying to stay calm.

I mustered up the courage to say, "I don't exactly understand what you mean, Ron, I just-"

"Bullshit, you don't!" he said, raising his voice at me. "Who was it, Harry? I bet it was Finch-Fletchley. The git, I'll kill him, I swear I will!"

I tried my best appalled look and said, "It was not Justin. It wasn't anybody!" The moment after I said that, however, I wished I hadn't. I had just crossed the line. I had lied. I had no point in arguing my case anymore. Even if he were to forgive me for cheating, he would not tolerate lying.

"You didn't?" he asked in that mock innocent tone, getting a surly look on his face. "Then why the hell are there bite marks all over you?!" He gave my shoulders a push. This angered me slightly, but he had every reason to be, didn't he?

I did not answer, fearing I would get myself into even more trouble. I slowly got out of the bed, and then felt Ron's entire weight come crushing down upon me. I landed onto the stone floor and cracked my head on it a little bit. For a moment, I was in a daze, but I came out of it as soon as I heard Ron screaming out to me again. He was standing now, pacing around me, his arms crossed and face furious.

"I was fucking grieving, Harry," he said, throwing his hands up into the air. "You come prancing in here trying to help me, knowing that you were out fucking Terry Boot up in his dorm only hours ago? Are you crazy?!"

"I was not with Terry, will you lay off?" I said, trying to sit up. The pain from hitting my head was still very strong. He was not a light person, Ron, and he was strong as hell. A lot stronger than most of the guys here at Hogwarts.

"Abercrombie!" he roared.

"He's a second year, Ron!" I said with disgust.

"Seamus?!"

"Eh?" said someone, obviously Seamus, from the bed adjacent from mine.

"In bed," I said exasperatedly, struggling to get off of the floor.

"Neville?" he said. "I saw him leave the dorm around the time you did!"

"Neville is straight!" I yelled. "He likes your sister, for crying out loud!"

Ron lit a lamp, flooding the whole room with light. There were pleas from the other beds to shut it off, but Ron kept pacing, staring up at the ceiling.. I finally got enough strength to sit and stand up, though it was a long, slow process. Once I did, I faced him, trying to keep his attention on my face, staring him in the eyes. Ron had only noticed my neck, and knowing Draco and his, well, preferences, if my neck was bad, the rest of my body would be worse. Much, much worse.

"Please, Ron," I said softly. "Lets stop being like this, and lets just go to bed. We'll figure everything out in the morning." Did I think it would work? No, but it was worth a shot.

At this point, he was scanning the rest of my body, and I just closed my eyes, awaiting the blow.

"Who the hell..." he started, in amazement and disbelief. "You've got fucking runes carved into you!"

"Do I?" I asked vaguely, looking down. Upon seeing my stomach and chest, I indeed saw runes. Not any old runes, either. Dark ones. The kind that only Death Eaters and evil wizards use. Draco did do a number on me. Funny thing was, I couldn't even feel it being done.

"Hermione's told me about those," he said. His voice was not so angry, now. It was confused, rather. "Only dark folk know how to do them..." I looked up at him and saw his face calculating. He was putting together all of the pieces, slowly but surely. Soon, very soon, he would figure it all out, and he would say his name. I waited for his lips to come together to form that familiar 'M' shape.

"Malfoy," he said with a brute tone that made me cringe. "I should have known. The coffee taste in your mouth should have tipped me off from the start... I can't believe it! I can't believe you!"

I bowed my head in defeat. The easy part was over. Now, I had to see if there was anything salvageable from our once very, very good relationship, and now I see that we had the potential to be more than that. Great, perhaps. Maybe even amazing. I stabbed my best friend and lover in the back with a dagger... a dagger named Draco.

"Harry," he said softly.

I said nothing.

"Harry, please talk to me," he begged in a whiny tone. "Tell me why you did this, Harry. Did he make you or something? I could maybe understand if he made you do it..."

"I can't tell you what you want to hear, and I can't really say anything to justify my actions," I said defeatedly. "No, he did not make me do it. Enticed me into it, but make me? No. I don't blame you if you want to end it. Just know that I do love you. I really do love you."

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Here stood my best friend for 6 years straight. He was the person that made me feel more at home with his family more than any other place I've been in my life. He who offered me his own bed when there wasn't enough room in his old house and took my hand when I was so very lonely, was standing here, crying because of me and my inability to control my emotions. "Why did it have to be him, Harry? Why is he so much better?"

"He's not," I said automatically, not really giving the question much thought.

"He is, I know you think he is," he said sadly. "It's cause he is richer, isn't it. Or maybe he looks better, right?"

"You know that has nothing to do with-"

"He can give you more, can't he?" said Ron. "Well, I'm so sorry that I can't be filthy fucking rich like him!"

"No, Ron, and if you would just try to understand me when I say this," I said slowly, "I went to the Tower on friendly intentions, only. I tried to patch up a relationship gone bad. It just... he just... I just was not strong enough to overcome the temptation. For that, I am truly sorry. There is nothing more I can say, Ron. Only that I love you. That's the only real, solid truth I know right now."

I took out my wand and began to try and charm off the runes that had been placed there. They were beginning to sting a little. I sat down on my bed, wishing that Hermione was here to help me with this. While the guilt and weight in my stomach was basically gone, I still felt like I wanted to die.

Ron walked over to me and sat next to me. I tried my hardest to busy myself with other things. I did not want to look into his hurt face any longer because it made me want to drive a stake through my own heart.

"Harry," he called.

"Yes, Ron," I said quietly.

"What if I said that I didn't love you anymore?" he asked.

"I would feel even worse, if possible, than I do at this very moment," I said, in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Will you look at me, please?" he asked. "I want to tell you something."

This was it. He was going to end it, and he was going to do it slow and painfully. I swallowed my pride and turned my head up, and I only had enough time to see him lunge at me and kiss me like he has never kissed me ever before. I tried to protest, but he had already blocked any form of that from me with his lips and tongue. He wrenched the hangings closed and finally stopped kissing me, though he was still close enough to. I could feel his breath on my face, and his heart pounding against mine. My mind, which was in a whirlwind before, was now so confused that it just wanted to shut off.

"Ron," I whispered, "you do realize what you are doing, right?"

"I realize, Harry, that I am still so very in love with you!" he exclaimed. "I would rather die than to have it any other way. I accept your apology wholeheartedly, and would love to start this relationship over. Everything will be right from the start. Do you want to?"

I let my head drop back on the pillow. "This cannot be real," I muttered. Where the hell do I get this luck?

"It is, though," said Ron. "That's the beauty of these things called chances. I trust you, Harry. I don't know Draco personally, the way you do and all, but he seems to be very enticing all the same. I suppose I am glad it wasn't Abercrombie. I'll give myself more credit than that, thank you very much!"

I smiled at him, realizing he was genuine, not making it up or anything. He smiled back and said, "I love you, Harry, and I know more than anything else in this world that you love me."

I nodded, saying, "Yeah." I guess I was still pretty dazed, and you know, this technically wasn't fair at all, with the way I'm supposed to get what I deserve right about now. I'm not complaining, though.

We began kissing again, furiously, as if we had been away from each other for the longest time. I had never been with him like this before. He had always been so timid when it came to expressing affection and certain instances of pleasure, but this time, it was like he found a whole other side of himself within him.

I will most likely never forget the end of it all, when we finished. I never, ever felt so contented, and yet so wasted, in my life. There was Ron, holding me so close to him, smiling, and I was smiling too. We slept together that night, in the same bed. Usually, this never happened, since he insisted that our dorm-mates were 'not ready' to see this kind of thing. This time, though, he insisted upon not wanting to leave my side. It was perfect, really. Very, very good, great, or amazing would not do this night any justice. Ron and I were completely and truly perfect.