The Ferret and The Weasel (Lia & Aislashu)

He looked at Weasley as if the redhead had just grown an extra head. "What? Where on Ear... Oh. Well, I suppose where you would get an idea like that." Though it surprised the blond that the other wizard was able to piece a puzzle together on his own. "No, Weasley. I'm not being abused in any way, nor have I ever been." Draco went to move away, and only then realized just how close they were to each other. A small gasp escaped passed his lips, and the blond tried to cover it by clearing his throat softly. "Thank you. For being concerned, I mean."
 
Ron was almost relieved, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he could believe the Slytherin. He looked down at Draco, moving his hand up to the blond's shoulder.

"Well, if it's not that, then what?" Ron tilted his head. "Obviously something's wrong. And I could practically feel your heart pounding. If you want to stop fighting..." he paused, feeling his ears redden a bit, "well, you know...you should probably start trusting?"
 
Looking up, Draco searched the other wizard's eyes. The hand on his shoulder radiated warmth, and security. But trusting Weasley... It wasn't something he ever thought he'd do. Draco wasn't sure he could do it now. "I've never been abused," he reassured, voice whisper soft but it held his truths within it. He'd been bullied and taunted and teased as a child by children of his parents' friends, but never had any of them hurt him physically. "This..." Draco shook his head. "I've only ever trusted Severus with this. I can't."

If later asked, Draco wouldn't be able to give a reason behind his next movements. But the blond stretched up and brushed cool, soft lips across the warmth of the Gryffindor's cheek with a feather-light touch. "I really do appreciate your concern." He moved to step away then. Was it getting warmer in the room?
 
Ron was worried, because really, he hadn't seen anyone react that way before. Sure, Harry had his nightmares, but he knew why those happened. He didn't know what was going on with Draco, though.

"Okay," he murmured. "Yeah...okay," sighing, still worried. Especially since Draco said he could only trust Snape. Not even his own parents?

Ron gave a startled sound when Draco kissed his cheek, eyes widening. His free hand touched his cheek where Draco's lips had been, but his other arm almost reflexively moved from Draco's shoulder to around the boy's neck, gently, when he tried to pull away. He drew Draco in for a quick, barely-there half-hug, the boy against his chest for a mere moment before he let go quickly and turned away, faking a cough, ears matching his hair.
 
The solidity of the chest beneath him was... Well, in a word, wonderful. Even if it was only a split second that it was there, Draco had liked it. He found himself wishing, if only for a moment, that he could trust the other wizard enough to share the bed with him. The blond felt positive that the chest would provide a comfortable pillow, too.

The moment was over before it began and Draco straightened up quickly, returning to the sofa and his text book. As an afterthought, he spoke. "Dumbledore said that we're not going to be responsible for the practical part of the holiday work, but that there will be tests for each one at the end of the first week back." Draco didn't look up when speaking, but just kept reading. This particular set of Runes was difficult, and he didn't understand the translations he was getting.
 
"Well, that's nice of them," he said dryly. He glanced over at Draco, watching the blond with the flush still on his own freckled cheeks. He'd enjoyed having that sleek, pale body against his own, for the short times it had been.

He looked away, his eyes falling on his chess board in his still-open trunk. He thought for a moment, then looked back to the Slytherin.

"Do you play chess?"
 
Looking up, it took Draco a second to really hear the question. With a quick glance back to the text, the blond decided that Runes was currently a lost cause. Maybe after a hearty dinner he would have a better shot at figuring it out. He nodded and pushed himself up from the sofa to sit at the desk while Weasley gathered the set. It had been a while since he had had anyone worthy of playing, but even if the redhead didn't know it, it was well known throughout the school that he was a top-notch player. Draco was actually looking forward to playing.

"Why do you hang around Potter?" he asked as they began playing.
 
Ron actually grinned when Draco nodded, heading over to his trunk and taking out his generations-old chess set. The chess set was probably the only hand-me-down he didn't mind. It was more of an inheritance than a hand-me-down, for one, and two, Wizard's Chess was pretty much one of the few things where it was much better to have such a set. He pulled it out and the pieces set themselves up, White on Draco and Black towards where he would be seated.

"I prefer Black, White suits you better anyway," he teased a bit, finally taking his seat. He glanced over at the question, though. "Why not?"

His focus was on the game, moving his first piece after Draco's movement. Already he was working on a few strategies in his head. He didn't let the conversation distract him.

"He's not bad, you know. He doesn't enjoy the fame. He just...attracts it. Why do you hang out with Crabbe and Goyle?"
 
"You enjoy being overshadowed, then?" he asked, forming his own strategies as they moved around the board. It didn't make sense to Draco. He'd always loved the spotlight, which was good because being an only child ensured that he was always in it. He tried to form an answer for the question about his friends, without giving too much away. "Some of it has to do with growing up together. They're loyal. But a lot of it has to do with...earlier." He felt his cheeks tinge lightly. "I would trust them with my life. That's really important to me." He moved his bishop back, spotting the beginnings of a trap being set.
 
Ron grit his teeth at that, nostrils flaring as he shot Draco a look.

"No," he managed to say, without adding the usual expletives or names. Though it was hard. "I'm just...used to it," he said, without elaborating.

There was, indeed, a trap he was luring Draco into. It was subtle, but it was there. However, even more subtle, was the trap he was laying out beyond that, one he was preparing to spring when Draco moved to avoid the more subtly set trap. Ron was remarkably good at strategy, he had a sharp mind for it.

"With earlier? You mean the bed thing? Thought you said you only trusted Snape."
 
"You shouldn't be..."

The words were spoken in barely a whisper as he moved another piece to be sacrificed. Better than being trapped, but Draco still had a feeling he would lose to the redhead. "I've only ever spoken to Severus about it, but there were other people there. Vince and Greg are the silent types. I'm sure they remember, but no one says anything about it. It's how I prefer it." Another move. "Check."
 
Ron frowned at Draco's words. "Yeah, well, five older brothers kinda takes care of that..."

Ron tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, he really did. But he wasn't entirely successful. He frowned when Draco mentioned people...being there. Being where? Something actually had happened to cause this?

"There for what?" he tried to sound casual. Maybe trick Draco into answering. A small smile turned his lips as he watched the game play out. He took the sacrificed piece, and the smile grew when Draco put him in check. He took the checked piece with another he'd had positioned, which had been blocking another piece's pathway upwards.

"Check," he said after taking the piece, as the opening he'd freed lead straight to the boy's king, leaving only a block possible.
 
"Bastard" was mumbled with no venom in the tone of voice. Draco studied the board, though he knew he was done for. He didn't like to give in too easily, regardless of how hopeless it was. "Nice try, Weasley," Draco answered as he sighed and moved his piece to block the attack on his king. There had been several people over the years who had tried to get him to open up about what had happened, but he never did. This time wasn't going to be any different. "Can't you just accept that it's a quirk?" he asked, looking up to study the Gryffindor now. "It doesn't usually impact me the way it did here." It was the truth. He could share a bed with someone, but only someone he trusted. Weasley was not someone he trusted... Yet? That caused Draco to sit back a bit and think.
 
"Maybe if you hadn't made such a big bloody fuss over it," he murmured, looking at Draco. "And made sure it was so damn secret. You really think you can do that and someone would just let it go?" he raised an eyebrow at the blond. "I doubt you would, if it were reversed."

When Draco moved the piece to block, he took the blocking piece, having it backed by another piece, so Draco's King couldn't take it.

"Checkmate," he said with a little grin. Sure, Draco had avoided the other little traps he'd set up, but it had lead the boy to his final trap. "Guess there is something I'm better than you at," he teased playfully.
 
The words stung slightly, and Draco wasn't expecting that reaction of himself. "It's something that I have no control over, Weasley. It wasn't about being prissy or fussy, and I think that today proved that." The blond laid down his king and then stood. "Good game." He didn't want Weasley to think he was a sore loser, but Draco couldn't sit and talk about it anymore. The blond moved over to the sofa and laid down, facing towards the back of it, to try to nap before dinner.
 
Ron sighed, frowning at the look on the boy's face.

"I know that," he said, quietly. "I never meant that whatever happened was in your control."

He decided not to say anything more, before he ended up saying something really stupid. Leaving Draco to head to the couch, he decided to head to the loo to take a long shower. He grabbed a change of clothes and made his way in, closing the door behind him and stripping down. Since Draco was laying on the couch, he figured he'd be able to take a good, long shower.
 
Draco laid there for long minutes, but was unable to sleep. Finally giving up as it neared fifteen minutes, the blond stood and moved towards the loo. He knocked but entered without waiting for an answer, moving forward without allowing his eyes to drift. He'd be in big trouble if he did, but he had to piss and waiting any longer wasn't an option. He muttered something about civilised people having at least an extra loo while tending to his bladder, back towards the shower stall. Finishing, the blond moved to the sink and opened the taps before thinking twice. Only after the water was running did he realize what he'd done and cursed. "I'd step out of that water, Weasley!" he called in warning, not having meant to but also not used to apologising, either.
 
"You better not flush that bloody toilet!" Ron called when he heard Draco come in to take a piss. Of course, that didn't stop the blond from moving to wash his hands, and he heard the boy turn on the taps. Thankfully, the shower was rather large--quite big enough to fit two or more, actually--and Ron scampered out of the way of the shower-head he'd been using, cursing the boy's name but not getting caught in the stream.

"May you dream of Merlin's skidmarks, Malfoy!"
 
Draco snickered and finished washing his hands. But the blond was set on revenge for the curse thrown at him and so the blond casually moved over to do just as the redhead and warned him against, and flushed the toilet. He rushed from the room, not trying to hide the amusement with himself. There was a reason the door locked, and Draco reminded himself to make use of that lock the next morning. Draco stretched on the bed, his Potions text in hand, to read. He may have difficulty with Runes but Potions never failed to trip him up, even once. He found it soothing, actually.
 
Ron shouted more curses after the blond, having to stay out of the spray as the water got piping hot, grumbling as he waited, dripping, for the water to get back down to bearable temperatures. He stood back under the shower when he could and washed off, climbing out and starting to dry off, plotting on how to get his revenge. He came out, drying his hair, then wadded up the soaked towel and walked over, tossing it into Draco's face with a grin.
 
Startled, Draco looked up at the redhead. His breath caught at the sight of Weasley in his towel and the blond stared for half a second before snapping himself out of it. He threw the towel back at the other wizard, fighting to keep any emotion (namely the lust) off of his face and out of his eyes. "Have a nice shower, Weasley?" he asked, turning back to his potions text.
 
"Nicer without the smell of wet ferret around," he tossed back, catching the towel and dropping it onto Draco's trunk, pulling on his boxers and a pair of jeans. He found a hair tie and pulled his hair back, tying it away from his face before deciding on an orange Chudley Cannons shirt, pulling it on over his broad, freckled chest.

Once dressed, he flopped onto the bed beside the blonde and stretched out, arms over his head. He figured Malfoy should be at LEAST okay with that, they weren't sleeping together right now, after all.
 
Draco stared, rather openly, as the redhead dropped his towel and got dressed. He barely registered the disgusting orange color, but the blond pulled a face when he did. "Really, Weasley? Orange?" But the bright color was forgotten the moment the Gryffindor flung himself onto the bed. Draco stiffened, back going rigid and his grip on the book he was holding increased ten-fold. He tried to focus on his breathing, and to see the room in front of him rather than the one from his memories. It's Weasley. He moved when you asked him to. He's not going to hurt you. The mantra repeated in his mind over and over. Eventually, he didn't feel as if his heart wasn't going to leap out of his chest, thank Merlin. Still, Draco's breathing was a bit labored and his muscles still stiff. With another big breath, Draco stood from the bed. "It's almost dinner. Were you going to write for some frog cards?" he asked, tossing the towel to the bathroom floor for the house elves to deal with and then digging through his trunk for clean parchment.
 
And apparently Draco wasn't. As soon as he'd dropped to the bed, he'd looked to Draco, and it had been visible, the effect it had. Ron sat up, looking at Draco ponderously, but he didn't push the subject.

"No...half the fun is seeing what you get. That feels like cheating," he chuckled, getting up. "We should probably head towards the Great Hall, anyway."
 
"I swear to Merlin, Weasley, if you eat that entire stash and sick up, you're going to be the one cleaning it up." The blond shuddered at the thought, but wrote out the two requests he needed to send after dinner and then tucked them into the inner pocket of his robe. "I don't mean for how I react to insult you, Weasley." Draco wasn't sure if it did or not, but if it did then it certainly wasn't his intent. Well, it had been on the first night, a little bit. "I... Ask next time." Draco wanted to get over his past, and maybe the redhead was the one to help him do so.

Not waiting for an answer, Draco exited the room and began towards the Great Hall, having faith that Weasley was following.
 
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