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Entry tags:
New Ron/Draco: "No Shame, This Life, Beloved," Magic Immunity 'verse
Title: No Shame, This Life, Beloved
Pairing: Ron/Draco, Magic Immunity universe (which does include wished-for Ron/Harry, though Harry never knew)
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 14,800
Warnings: angst, a bit of sentimentality
Beta: my gratitude to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hapendfro for her insights and commentary and not letting me put this out without revamping the epilogue.
A/N: I started this in fall of '07; I then discovered Wraeththu and other things happened, like moving cross-country. I'd planned for this to be the final long installment in Magical Immunity, and suspect it will be, but never say never. I love these two and this 'verse I first created back in January of 2005. For all who have read and enjoyed my stories in this world, thank you for your comments, your affection for them in this world, and for the art commissioned bystuckinsea created by the talented fuileachd. Art always welcomed, of course! I do hope you all enjoy this continuation in the story; it having been so long since the last one I don't know whether anyone in our R/D 'ship will even remember what happened last. When we last left our heroes (in "How Close the Divide"), Xavier had been summoned to Hogwarts a year earlier than usual and Ron and Draco had just put him on the Hogwarts Express. Cross-posted to the archives where I house my fanfic and our R/D LJ communities. This story is also totally AU with actual canon by now; it does correlate with my "Cartography of Fire" series: George and Remus are handfasted, Severus survived the War, but barely, Harry was killed.
Summary: Ron and Draco receive rather a shock at discovering the House Xavier is sorted into, though Ron is even more surprised when his new French intern, Jean-Luc, seems to fancy him. Especially when Ron realises he could be capable of infidelity. Life has its surprises, conflicts and deaths, but through it, Draco and Ron seem to be able to hold fast to one another in their own sometimes tumultuous ways.
"Another round?" Ron suggested, though he knew he was only bringing it up to pass a bit more time.
"No. C'mon, finish up what you have and let's go home. To the Manor," Draco clarified, twirling the stem of his glass before finishing the last of his gimlet.
Ron nodded his agreement. He glanced around at the familiar ambiance of the Belligerent Badger, his thoughts snagged on the word 'home.' Ever since Draco had taken Snape out of St. Mungo's and brought him to live with them, they'd spent nearly all of their time at Malfoy Manor, especially since Xavier was also in their household. The flat the two of them had shared would've been cramped quarters once adding in a growing, rambunctious Weasley and a glowering former Death Eater whose war wounds left him incapable of living without assistance. Ron and Draco had put Xavier on the train to Hogwarts earlier in the day despite him being a year younger than the expected age of admittance. As the alcohol enticed out his melancholy feelings, Ron imagined the Manor with only the three of them, minus his nephew's outgoing personality.
"Ron, you look as though you've heard about yet another Cannons' loss. What are you moping about?" Draco asked as they got out from their booth and walked toward the door.
"It's just going to be so different at the Manor without Xavier there," Ron said, jamming his hands into his denims pockets. "If it weren't for Snape, we could spend most of our time at our flat. I liked our flat," he went on, hearing his own childish sullen tone and shaking his head.
"I like our flat too," Draco said pragmatically. He straightened up his collar as they ambled down the footpath to a narrow alley they tended to use to Apparate. "I know I could choose to spend my nights at our flat and do my baking and swimming at the Manor. Mostly it's important to me that Severus not spend the rest of what will hopefully be a very long life stuck away, forgotten, in St. Mungo's. The Manor is far better suited for his care."
Despite the fact that Snape and Ron were barely civil, Ron did admire Draco's compassion for his former Head of House. But Snape was easier to deal with when Xavier was there, as the two of them actually liked each other. Xave could be a pain in the arse at times, but Ron really hadn't been ready for him to go to school yet. His Hogwarts letter had totally taken all of them by surprise.
"For Merlin's sake! Stop brooding," Draco chastised, nudging Ron's shoulder to steer him into the alleyway. "Good thing I know of a couple of ways to pass the time and get your mind on other things until we hear from Xavier about his Sorting. It could be tomorrow, even," he purred, pressing Ron against the stone wall. His hands were suddenly gripping Ron's hips, yet their groins distressingly weren't quite touching. "You could be sore in the best ways imaginable by then."
Draco's voice wasn't low, but it was sensual, and just remembering the noises Draco had made their last memorable time in bed made Ron's cock begin to stiffen. Having a long shag — or two shorter ones — that perked Ron's spirits right up.
"Or you could be," Ron challenged, curving his arms around to grab a hold of Draco's arse, pulling him in until their bodies were flush from pelvis to chest.
"Oh no. My cock is going in your fine arse. Even if I have to tie you up to do it." Draco's grey eyes lit up as his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip.
The blood thundered to Ron's cock. Draco wasn't often this aggressive, and right now it was about the sexiest threat Ron could imagine. "Maybe you'll need to," Ron said, leaning forward just enough so his open lips hovered centimetres from Draco's.
"Maybe I'll like that." Draco followed his drawled comment with a bruising kiss, his tongue making a commanding sweep through Ron's mouth before pulling away. "Let's get home. I'll need to check up on Severus first," he said, trailing a pale finger down the middle of Ron's breastbone. "But you can go straight to our bedroom."
"Reckon I'll do just that," Ron replied, easing forward for another kiss, this one less frantic but just as passionate.
After a few moments they stepped apart. The look in Draco's eyes mirrored Ron's, he was sure; he was ready to get to the privacy of their room. Ron put the image of the front steps on the Manor in his mind, focussed his intentions while closing his eyes, and passed through the body-flattening feeling to find himself at the front door. Draco appeared with a soft crack! at almost the exact same time. Ron let Draco murmur the counter-spell to their wards and they went inside, Draco giving Ron's arsecheek a grope as he passed.
"Flissy!" Draco called, summoning their old house-elf that had come to them from one of Draco's French cousins. Flissy was nearly fanatical in his care of Severus and Xavier, and quite keen to spoil the latter. Ron guessed he wouldn't be seeing the floppy-eared creature as often in the future, but he shoved that thought aside as he walked to their bedroom. He went via the library, picking up a decanter of firewhiskey and two glasses.
Once in their room, he dropped his jacket on the floor. Thinking better of it, he hung it over the arm of a chair near their fireplace. He took time to relieve himself and brush his teeth before stripping down to his boxers and pouring himself a drink. Once eased into bed, he made himself comfortable against a plump assemblage of pillows, taking a deep swallow of the fiery liquid. Now all he needed was his lover. Alone in the large bed, with his fingers wrapped half-heartedly on his flagging erection and no other diversion, his thoughts resolutely returned to Xavier. Who would his friends be? Would he be made fun of because he was an orphan and his surrogate parents were queer? Would he fight back or break?
Ron's pelting barrage of currently unanswerable questions came to a merciful halt when Draco stalked into the room. He was all predatory grace and intent; wand in hand, he aimed at several points in the room, causing the lights to dim, candles to flare to light, a small fire to crackle cheerily in the fireplace, and a tendril of incense to send a faint patchouli scent into the air. When he turned his attentions to Ron, the scorching ferocity of his gaze revived Ron's libido.
"Get rid of your drink," Draco said, and Ron did while a bit sheepishly taking his hand out of his boxers. "Now lie down and get naked," Draco continued, his reedy baritone threaded with a satiny commanding quality that caused the blood to race to Ron's groin.
What Draco was up to Ron couldn't guess, which caused sparks of excitement to prickle on his skin. After tossing his pants onto the floor, he pushed the covers and sheets down, putting himself on display, anticipating what would happen. They'd been together for several years now; his pulse didn't speed up at every kiss and they had somewhat predictable sexual routines for the most part. On occasion, however, their passion was memorable. As heard the incantation and felt his wrists pulled out and lashed with silken cords to the bed posts, he realised this would be one of those encounters.
Neither he nor Draco said anything to each other. The domineering demeanour Draco had taken on provided unspoken anticipation as he took off his clothes, Ron watching avidly. Lust bloomed fire between Ron's legs and in his throbbing prick. They were both nearing thirty, but Draco was still as handsome as ever, with his angles and slender array of muscle that played under his skin. As he knee-walked up the bed alongside Ron's body, his stiffening cock twitched upwards. Draco's steely gaze raked over Ron, causing him to feel both vulnerable but also desired. Draco took himself in hand and Ron couldn't help it, he opened his mouth, hoping Draco would feed him his cock. Ron loved fucking Draco, of course, but he especially loved the sourmusk taste of his slick skin, the shaft sliding in and out as he sucked and feasted on the hard flesh.
With an almost pitying smirk, Draco painted damp brushstrokes on Ron's cheeks with the head of his cock, rubbing the domed top along his lips even as Ron made a pathetic gurgling sound low in his throat.
"You want this," Draco said, his voice husky and eyes glittering.
Ron nodded, sending out his tongue to lick at the vinegary fluid seeping from the slit, gratified when Draco's eyes closed for a moment at the contact. Tired of teasing, Draco pushed his hips forward, his length sliding into Ron's eager mouth. Draco set the pace he wanted, tilting his hips in and out as Ron slurped and licked, using his lips for friction.
"Gods, fuck, Ron… you're so good," Draco crooned, one hand grasping at the headboard while Ron craned his neck as best he could, given that his arms were spread wide apart.
Draco's praise for Ron's cocksucking drizzled down on Ron like warm honey. Ron had planted his feet on the sheets, humping fruitlessly up into the air, relishing the feel of slapping bollocks on his chin. His eyes flickered back and forth between Draco's pubic hair and his face. Draco had quit playacting; he seemed off in his own world, pinching at his pebbled nipples and thrusting into Ron's mouth, eyes shut, mouth partway open to let out whimpering moans. All of a sudden he came back to himself, pulling out of Ron's mouth with a wet pop.
"Want you," Draco said breathlessly, easing backward so that he was poised above Ron on his hands and knees. The look of desire and loving openness was so unexpected, Ron felt his guts clench at his own rush of needy affection. They really did utterly love each other. Despite all of their differences, and the arguments, and clashing perspectives on the world, Ron knew Draco had no desire to be with anyone but him and he knew just as strongly that Draco was the only one for him.
Draco leaned down, kissing Ron deeply and with a desperate fervour matched by Ron even though his jaw ached. Once his hunger for Ron's kisses was temporarily slaked, Draco quickly slid down Ron's body. He busied himself, giving him a thorough blowjob while Ron bucked and swore and groaned at how good it felt. He could sense the coiling tension tightening in his sacs and warned Draco to slow down.
"Want you to come first," Ron gasped.
He'd grown to enjoy sex with Draco like this, but he'd also discovered he really disliked being taken up the arse after he'd had an orgasm. Logically he'd have thought he'd be more relaxed, but for some reason, the building tension was better. With a last, languorous lick up the underside of his shaft, Draco planted a wet kiss on the crown of Ron's cock before Accio'ing some lubricant. He sat on his heels, his flushed chest rising and falling quickly as he liberally coated his cock.
"Legs up," he murmured and Ron complied, wrapping them around Draco's waist.
He braced himself against the burning squelch as Draco eased himself in, focussing on how good he must feel, so tight around Draco's shaft until the discomfort faded. Draco breathed out a ragged sigh of pleasure, rocking his hips in tiny movements until he could feel Ron's channel was adapting to the fullness. Within a few thrusts Draco was buggering him in earnest, long and deep, each smack against Ron's arse reverberating deep in Ron's body. All he did was hold on, clawing at the ropes that held his arms wide, feeling his swollen cock bump against his abdomen as Draco fucked him. Draco dropped down onto his hands, bowing Ron in half, kissing Ron feverishly as his hoarse voice said he was close and "Godsfucksodeep — Love you, Ron, loveyouloveyouohfuckcoming…"
The pummeling against his arse stilled and Draco's eyes closed, his neck arched back as Ron felt the release far within himself. His own cock was pressed against Draco's belly and the fine trail of hair, blood pounding in his ears as he sensed Draco easing down from his orgasm. Tenderly Draco sowed dry kisses from Ron's temple to his jaw, suckling on Ron's lower lip before sliding out of Ron's thoroughly used channel. Ron let his legs flop onto the bed, regaining his own breath now that there was no weight on his chest.
"Thank you," Draco breathed, the rosy tint of exertion on his pale skin from his face down to his ribs beginning to fade.
"Love you," Ron said, unembarrassed and at peace, albeit a bit sore.
"What would you like…?" Draco asked, wrapping his hand around Ron's sensitive cock.
"Your mouth's brilliant."
"I know it is."
Ron made a sound that was half growl, half laugh. "So quit talking and suck me."
Draco's eyebrow arched impressively, though the effect wasn't so haughty given his tousled hair and look of utter satiation. Regardless, he arranged his body so he was lying in the vee of Ron's legs, every bit of his attention fixated on bringing Ron to a bone-melting orgasm. Which he did, Ron yelling as his release pulsed out of him and down Draco's willing throat. Only after the pounding aftershocks had passed did Ron have the energy to appreciate Draco's very self-satisfied expression as well as notice that his shoulders were sore from being stretched out.
"You're amazing. Mind letting me loose?" Ron asked, his voice scratchy from breathing through his mouth.
"Not at all." Draco delicately wiped at the corners of his mouth with his fingers before scooting off the bed to retrieve his wand from the bedside table. He undid the binding spell and cast a couple of cleansing spells, and then joined Ron back in their bed. Ron rubbed at his shoulders and Draco looked at him worriedly. "That didn't hurt you, did it?"
"No. And it was really hot," Ron said, reassuring him as he enfolded Draco in his arms. He undulated his fingers at the base of Draco's spine, breathing in his refined scent, always present even when sweaty.
"I don't know what brought it on," Draco admitted, draping a long thigh across Ron's thicker leg. "But thanks for going along with me." He nuzzled Ron's jaw, carefully steering away from the goatee. "Sometimes I just want to fuck you senseless. Can't be helped."
Ron's lips twisted into a sideways smile. "No. I feel like that about you most of the time."
Draco snorted, but he sounded pleased. "I needed that. You were making me tense. Most unnatural."
"Unnatural? Usually I just piss you off so much you want to hex me back to the Founders Age."
"Exactly."
Ron growled happily, rolling on to his back and bringing Draco with him, still in a post-shagging glow. He gave his backside muscles a tentative squeeze, making a mental note to take a light pain potion before they actually went to bed later on. "You hungry?" he asked.
"I actually think I worked up an appetite," Draco drawled, pulling a stray hair behind his ear. "But I don't want to cook. Mind if we ask Flissy to make us something?"
"Not at all!" Ron was a bit surprised, but more than happy not to have to leave their bedroom, or even the bed, in order to eat. "Think we have any corned beef left?"
"Who knows. I'm going to need to get a separate fridge."
"I thought we already had two…" Ron eyed the firewhiskey and glasses on the bedside table, but Draco shook his head.
"We do. Business is going well and I'll need a third one for more of my work food. I'll get some wine, thanks." He captured Ron's gaze, sliding his hands down to cradle Ron's face, kissing him gently on the lips. "I'm glad your ridiculous goatee is finally soft," he said, running a thumb through the ginger hair.
"I thought you liked it," Ron insisted as Draco got up and put on his boxers and a dressing gown.
"Well, it does suit you, but I don't like having my skin rubbed raw. Flissy!"
"Oy! Not dressed, here!" Ron exclaimed, pulling the sheets up as the house-elf popped into being near their bedroom door.
"They don't care," Draco said dismissively. "Flissy, would you bring us up some meat and cheese sandwiches? Corned beef if we have it, I'm pretty sure we do, some crisps for Ron, an apple and a couple of wedges of brie for me, and a pitcher of water."
"Certainly, Master Draco," the house-elf replied, nodding its head and twisting its fingers. "Any news from Master Xavier?"
"No. Not yet."
With a last grovelling bow the house-elf vanished and Ron relaxed. He realised he really was hungry as he got out of bed to put his boxers back on and then a pair of well-worn tracksuit pants and top.
"So how is our resident bat?" he asked, earning a disapproving growl before Draco answered.
"Severus is okay, but only that. I almost wonder if he shouldn't have a Healer give him a thorough auralic and make sure there aren't some lingering effects to the Cruciatus'. Or perhaps the complexity of all that he was tortured with is mutating over time. Merlin only knows what he was subjected to before he showed his true colours; the Dark Lord didn't exactly kill his followers with kindness."
He paused, giving Ron a falsely innocent look. "Well! How convenient that we happen to have one of St. Mungo's finest here, in the house, in this very room."
"Draco," Ron warned. "Don't even say it. You know as well as I do that he won't let me anywhere near him with a wand."
"You're around him all the time with your wand," Draco said crisply. He made a pleased sound in his throat when a large platter with their dinner suddenly appeared on a serving-table in the middle of the room.
"Not the same," Ron insisted. "Me doing any healing for him is a non-issue. Forget it. He'd rather die than get my help, and you know I'm right. Which is fine by me," he added, picking up one of the corned beef sandwich triangles and tucking into it.
"Don't be a prick. I want you at least to do a once-over on him. I'll go with you and stay so he doesn't feel threatened."
"Like that'll help," Ron said through a mouthful of sandwich. "This Healer isn't making house calls."
"Oh yes you are."
Draco resembled his dead father so strongly for a flickering moment Ron nearly choked. "Please, Ron," he said, changing his tone and demeanour. "I really would feel better if you did. I think something's not right and he's being stubborn and won't say a bloody thing about it."
Ron felt the hot breath of shame blow through him at that comment. It was true; he'd been so afraid that he'd been dying of something that he'd hidden it from everyone in a twisted form of denial. Thankfully he'd been wrong, but having Draco point out that similarity didn't make him any more enthusiastic for Draco's cause.
"Fine," he grumbled, pouring himself a new glass of firewhiskey. "I suppose it'll be good to have you as a witness when he tries to put some Dark curse on me or attempts to manipulate or break my wand."
Draco didn't deign to reply, he just looked satisfied with himself and got down to the business of eating the gooey cheese he was so fond of. Eventually Ron brought up Draco's latest culinary projects in a veiled attempt at peacemaking, and they chatted about that for a time. Draco asked if Ron was going back to full-time work at St. Mungo's the following week. Ron said that his Healer, Raven Abbott, had given him his full approval to get back to his usual schedule.
"He said I might feel more tired than I used to, at least at first," Ron admitted grudgingly. "Guess I'll have to see how it goes. Depends on how many patients there are in my ward, as well. Merlin's saggy balls," he swore, gathering up the last of the crumbs of crisps and pouring them into his mouth.
"What?" Draco had eased out of his chair to pour himself another glass of wine after giving Ron a disdainful look at the way he'd cleaned up his plate.
"More training. I've a new intern starting on Monday, a bloke from St. Etienne. French."
"Quelle domage."
"Pardon?"
"'What a pity," Draco said, not sounding at all sorry.
"When did you learn French?" Ron asked, flabbergasted, but also feeling defensive about his far less cosmopolitan background.
"When we spent summers in Antibes," Draco replied. "I'm not really fluent, but I picked up a fair bit over the years. No doubt I've forgotten a lot as well."
"You know more than I do, and you've travelled loads more places. I guess I did go to Egypt that one time, and you took us on holiday to the Canary Islands…"
"I'm a good influence on you. You'd think you'd be used to that by now," Draco said imperiously before striding into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
The evening wore on. Ron did give Snape a pretty thorough auralic but didn't find anything out of the ordinary outside of the rather complicated mess of spell damage he had to live with. Hidden away in a distant corner of his heart, kept secret and unspoken, Ron housed pity for their former Potions master. After several years of living with Draco, Ron keenly knew what it was like being around someone for whom pride was an integral as breathing. Snape still clutched to his, tremulous hands and all, but he refused to give to Ron even a shred of the warmth he bestowed on Draco and Xavier. Ron knew that Snape knew he couldn't get away with outright malice, however, and in truth, he wasn't actively antagonistic. Very often.
Ron was pretty well into his cups, half-watching telly, which had two men fencing, and half-dozing when Draco nudged at him to come to bed.
"We're obviously not getting a parchment tonight." Draco didn't try to hide his disappointment, rubbing at Ron's shoulder and glancing over at their large television screen Ron had purchased a couple of years ago. "What is this?"
"The Olympics. Big Muggle sporting thing— have 'em for summer and winter, every few years, not exactly sure."
Draco seemed intrigued, but he took the channel-changer out of Ron's grip and turned the television off. "Bedtime."
Ron made rumbled grousing sounds, but allowed Draco to assist pulling him up from the couch. He got unsteadily to his feet, rubbing at his cheek where he'd been lying down on a scrunched-up pillow. "Can't believe he didn't write," he said sulkily as they made their way to their bedroom.
"He was probably all caught up in getting to know his new Housemates. You know how Xavier is." Draco turned and gave Ron a meaningful smile. "I suspect wherever he is, he already has two best friends and told them his life story and given away half of the treats I packed for him."
"I'll bet they're all gone," Ron said ruefully. "Gryffindors all seemed to have healthy appetites."
"Yes, but in Slytherin, his friends might actually offer to trade some of their own sweets, not simply take what's offered."
"We're not getting into this. 'm too tired, and we had a great shag, and I don't want to be cheesed off before I go to sleep," Ron said through a yawn, shuffling to their bathroom to brush his teeth.
"I think we should invite Lupin and your brother over for brunch tomorrow," Draco mused from the other side of the open door.
"Bit late for that, isn't it?"
"Maybe, but you know they'll be curious as well. No doubt you and George have a bet going, and I'll be interested to see who ends up with the galleons."
Ron coughed on the toothpaste in his mouth. Draco really did know him too well; of course George had bet him that Xavier would be in Slytherin, and Ron had put his money on Gryffindor. There was a smug chuckle as Draco discovered he was right.
With a jaw-cracking yawn, Ron slid into their wide bed, turning down the covers on Draco's side and waiting for him to join him. "What a long day," he said under his breath, at last giving into exhaustion.
Draco cast a Nox on their lights and lay on his back. Ron draped an arm over Draco's chest, kissing his shoulder and letting his eyes drift closed.
"'Night," Draco said softly.
* * * * *
Draco had just taken the orange-cranberry muffins out of the oven when Xavier's fuscous barn own, which he'd inexplicably named Rufus, came flying into the kitchen.
"Is that Xavier's owl?" Remus asked, unpeeling a banana.
"Yep. George, hope you brought your ten Galleons," Ron said, his stomach beginning to churn again, uncertain whether it was good or bad that Xavier hadn't written until the next morning.
"'Course," George said, smirking. "But I'll be going home with more, mark my words."
"Severus, what are your thoughts?" Remus asked, pulling up a chair next to him.
Snape peered disdainfully down his nose, his twitching limbs held in his lap. "Though I wish it were otherwise, I have no doubt he'll be in Ravenclaw," he replied archly, nodding his thanks to Draco as he levitated a cup of coffee to a level even with Snape's mouth.
"Ron, perhaps you and I should just glance at it first, in case he's put something private in there just for our eyes," Draco suggested. "George, if you'd take care of the sticky rolls and anything else you see that should go on the table, that would be helpful."
Ron gave Rufus a couple of pieces of bacon, annoyed with himself when he realised his hands were trembling a bit. He just hoped that Xavier was happy, and had made friends, and that other students weren't giving him grief because of his very atypical home situation.
"C'mon Ron, go ahead and open it," Draco urged, blowing on a cup of tea. It was obvious from his state of agitation that Draco was as concerned as Ron, especially since Xavier hadn't written home the night before.
"I can't bloody stand it," Ron said through gritted teeth. "All right."
He unrolled the parchment and quickly scanned Xavier's tidy, block printed words. For a moment Ron stared, his eyes snagged on the word Hufflepuff. He blinked at it, his gaze darting further down the letter to see that Xave had stayed up for hours with his new Housemates, and that he had been singled out a bit for being a year younger than everyone else, but he didn't mind being a celebrity. One of his new dorm mates came from a Muggle family and didn't know anything about Weasleys, Malfoys, or Snape— but he'd been raised by his grandparents and uncle and knew what it was like not to have your real parents around.
"Well?!" George exclaimed, drumming his fingers on the counter. "You two are awfully quiet. He's okay, isn't he?"
Draco looked at Ron, the incomprehension no doubt mirroring Ron's own, before turning his attentions to their guests. "Xavier is in Hufflepuff. He's just fine."
Silence reigned for a few moments as George, Remus and Snape absorbed the news.
"That's… surprising," Remus said carefully.
"No bloody way!" George insisted, walking over and holding out his hand impatiently toward the small roll of parchment. "No Weasley has ever been a bloody Hufflepuff. Poor Percy's spinning in his grave right now."
"Hold off, I've not even properly read it," Ron said, exasperated. "Where're their dorms? The dungeons? I never went anywhere near the Hufflepuff rooms."
Draco was still reading as well, doubtless ingesting Xavier's enthusiasm and excitement. "He says that the Hat took a while to decide, and some of the Gryffindors looked disappointed, but he feels right at home in Hufflepuff. He's proud to be there, and we shouldn't worry. Or be mad that he's not in Gryffindor or Slytherin."
"Some of my best potions students were in Hufflepuff," Snape mused thoughtfully, raising a shaky arm to nudge his cup to his mouth.
George seemed to be in denial, staring at the letter once Draco had grudgingly handed it over. He continued to shake his head, his ginger eyebrows furrowed before looking to his bondmate for validation. "Remus— you were on staff. Did you all have meetings about students who were obviously put in the wrong House?"
"I'm sure Xavier is exactly where he should be," Remus said. "Now come sit down and let's eat these delicious-smelling treats Draco was so kind to make. I'm famished."
"How can you possibly think of eating? This is a family crisis!" George appeared incredulous.
"Xavier being in Hufflepuff is not a crisis," Draco said, his words heavy with warning and a scowl on his face. "I'll admit I really thought he'd be in Slytherin, or maybe Ravenclaw, but no doubt he'll be a tremendous asset to them. Like Cedric Diggory."
"Look what bloody well happened to him!" George said, gesticulating wildly. "And besides, I'd already bought Xavier a Slytherin tie, and you can't imagine how traumatising an experience that was!"
"Hufflepuff isn't worse than Slytherin," Ron said defensively. He was still shocked and at a loss because he'd hardly known any Hufflepuffs during his years at Hogwarts, just the few who were in the DA. Well, there had been Cedric whom, as George noted, had met rather an untimely and shocking end. Ron would support Xave no matter what, though. "Maybe he didn't want to be in either of the two Houses that Draco and I had been in, or even Percy. Too much pressure or something."
George scowled, a sticky roll nearly to his lips. "Bollocks."
"You don't know that Ron didn't feel a bit that way," Remus pointed out before gesturing to Draco and Ron. "Please— you were kind enough to invite us here, you've made this fabulous spread, and we should all sit and eat."
Ron looked at the seats available to him; he was stuck with George or Snape on one side of him, no matter what. The warm doughy aroma of the pastries was mouth-watering, however, and as his stomach made a well-timed rumble, he decided that George, even in his current snit, would be easier to cope with than Snape. Soon they were all eating, Remus and Draco discreetly assisting Snape so that his condition was almost unnoticeable.
"We should send him a reply," Remus suggested after a time, peeling an orange and picking off the white, veiny tendrils before placing the slices on Snape's plate.
"We could each send him something," George chimed in. "He'd feel pretty important if he got five scrolls at once."
"I'm surprised your mother hasn't—" Draco began just as Pig hooted excitedly, having flown in through a window Ron had opened to let in the tangy, crisp autumnal air. Draco barely kept from rolling his eyes, and Ron knew how much effort it must have taken him. "Speaking of."
Ron dashed off a quick reply to his mum while George made affectionately disparaging comments to the Weasley family owl.
"Yes, we should each write Xavier," Snape concurred. "Lupin, will you escort me to the library? I'll need my dicta-quill."
"Of course," Remus said warmly.
George appeared to pretend that the exchange hadn't happened, instead turning his attentions to Ron as he rolled up the scrap note and fastened it back on to Pig's leg. "I've got to get on to Wheeze's. I'll write him from there, maybe send him something… Hufflepuffish," he said doubtfully before turning to Draco. "Malfoy, fancy a tie?"
Draco's look was mutinous. All Ron could do was shake his head.
Continued here
Pairing: Ron/Draco, Magic Immunity universe (which does include wished-for Ron/Harry, though Harry never knew)
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 14,800
Warnings: angst, a bit of sentimentality
Beta: my gratitude to
hapendfro for her insights and commentary and not letting me put this out without revamping the epilogue.A/N: I started this in fall of '07; I then discovered Wraeththu and other things happened, like moving cross-country. I'd planned for this to be the final long installment in Magical Immunity, and suspect it will be, but never say never. I love these two and this 'verse I first created back in January of 2005. For all who have read and enjoyed my stories in this world, thank you for your comments, your affection for them in this world, and for the art commissioned by
stuckinsea created by the talented fuileachd. Art always welcomed, of course! I do hope you all enjoy this continuation in the story; it having been so long since the last one I don't know whether anyone in our R/D 'ship will even remember what happened last. When we last left our heroes (in "How Close the Divide"), Xavier had been summoned to Hogwarts a year earlier than usual and Ron and Draco had just put him on the Hogwarts Express. Cross-posted to the archives where I house my fanfic and our R/D LJ communities. This story is also totally AU with actual canon by now; it does correlate with my "Cartography of Fire" series: George and Remus are handfasted, Severus survived the War, but barely, Harry was killed.Summary: Ron and Draco receive rather a shock at discovering the House Xavier is sorted into, though Ron is even more surprised when his new French intern, Jean-Luc, seems to fancy him. Especially when Ron realises he could be capable of infidelity. Life has its surprises, conflicts and deaths, but through it, Draco and Ron seem to be able to hold fast to one another in their own sometimes tumultuous ways.
"Another round?" Ron suggested, though he knew he was only bringing it up to pass a bit more time.
"No. C'mon, finish up what you have and let's go home. To the Manor," Draco clarified, twirling the stem of his glass before finishing the last of his gimlet.
Ron nodded his agreement. He glanced around at the familiar ambiance of the Belligerent Badger, his thoughts snagged on the word 'home.' Ever since Draco had taken Snape out of St. Mungo's and brought him to live with them, they'd spent nearly all of their time at Malfoy Manor, especially since Xavier was also in their household. The flat the two of them had shared would've been cramped quarters once adding in a growing, rambunctious Weasley and a glowering former Death Eater whose war wounds left him incapable of living without assistance. Ron and Draco had put Xavier on the train to Hogwarts earlier in the day despite him being a year younger than the expected age of admittance. As the alcohol enticed out his melancholy feelings, Ron imagined the Manor with only the three of them, minus his nephew's outgoing personality.
"Ron, you look as though you've heard about yet another Cannons' loss. What are you moping about?" Draco asked as they got out from their booth and walked toward the door.
"It's just going to be so different at the Manor without Xavier there," Ron said, jamming his hands into his denims pockets. "If it weren't for Snape, we could spend most of our time at our flat. I liked our flat," he went on, hearing his own childish sullen tone and shaking his head.
"I like our flat too," Draco said pragmatically. He straightened up his collar as they ambled down the footpath to a narrow alley they tended to use to Apparate. "I know I could choose to spend my nights at our flat and do my baking and swimming at the Manor. Mostly it's important to me that Severus not spend the rest of what will hopefully be a very long life stuck away, forgotten, in St. Mungo's. The Manor is far better suited for his care."
Despite the fact that Snape and Ron were barely civil, Ron did admire Draco's compassion for his former Head of House. But Snape was easier to deal with when Xavier was there, as the two of them actually liked each other. Xave could be a pain in the arse at times, but Ron really hadn't been ready for him to go to school yet. His Hogwarts letter had totally taken all of them by surprise.
"For Merlin's sake! Stop brooding," Draco chastised, nudging Ron's shoulder to steer him into the alleyway. "Good thing I know of a couple of ways to pass the time and get your mind on other things until we hear from Xavier about his Sorting. It could be tomorrow, even," he purred, pressing Ron against the stone wall. His hands were suddenly gripping Ron's hips, yet their groins distressingly weren't quite touching. "You could be sore in the best ways imaginable by then."
Draco's voice wasn't low, but it was sensual, and just remembering the noises Draco had made their last memorable time in bed made Ron's cock begin to stiffen. Having a long shag — or two shorter ones — that perked Ron's spirits right up.
"Or you could be," Ron challenged, curving his arms around to grab a hold of Draco's arse, pulling him in until their bodies were flush from pelvis to chest.
"Oh no. My cock is going in your fine arse. Even if I have to tie you up to do it." Draco's grey eyes lit up as his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip.
The blood thundered to Ron's cock. Draco wasn't often this aggressive, and right now it was about the sexiest threat Ron could imagine. "Maybe you'll need to," Ron said, leaning forward just enough so his open lips hovered centimetres from Draco's.
"Maybe I'll like that." Draco followed his drawled comment with a bruising kiss, his tongue making a commanding sweep through Ron's mouth before pulling away. "Let's get home. I'll need to check up on Severus first," he said, trailing a pale finger down the middle of Ron's breastbone. "But you can go straight to our bedroom."
"Reckon I'll do just that," Ron replied, easing forward for another kiss, this one less frantic but just as passionate.
After a few moments they stepped apart. The look in Draco's eyes mirrored Ron's, he was sure; he was ready to get to the privacy of their room. Ron put the image of the front steps on the Manor in his mind, focussed his intentions while closing his eyes, and passed through the body-flattening feeling to find himself at the front door. Draco appeared with a soft crack! at almost the exact same time. Ron let Draco murmur the counter-spell to their wards and they went inside, Draco giving Ron's arsecheek a grope as he passed.
"Flissy!" Draco called, summoning their old house-elf that had come to them from one of Draco's French cousins. Flissy was nearly fanatical in his care of Severus and Xavier, and quite keen to spoil the latter. Ron guessed he wouldn't be seeing the floppy-eared creature as often in the future, but he shoved that thought aside as he walked to their bedroom. He went via the library, picking up a decanter of firewhiskey and two glasses.
Once in their room, he dropped his jacket on the floor. Thinking better of it, he hung it over the arm of a chair near their fireplace. He took time to relieve himself and brush his teeth before stripping down to his boxers and pouring himself a drink. Once eased into bed, he made himself comfortable against a plump assemblage of pillows, taking a deep swallow of the fiery liquid. Now all he needed was his lover. Alone in the large bed, with his fingers wrapped half-heartedly on his flagging erection and no other diversion, his thoughts resolutely returned to Xavier. Who would his friends be? Would he be made fun of because he was an orphan and his surrogate parents were queer? Would he fight back or break?
Ron's pelting barrage of currently unanswerable questions came to a merciful halt when Draco stalked into the room. He was all predatory grace and intent; wand in hand, he aimed at several points in the room, causing the lights to dim, candles to flare to light, a small fire to crackle cheerily in the fireplace, and a tendril of incense to send a faint patchouli scent into the air. When he turned his attentions to Ron, the scorching ferocity of his gaze revived Ron's libido.
"Get rid of your drink," Draco said, and Ron did while a bit sheepishly taking his hand out of his boxers. "Now lie down and get naked," Draco continued, his reedy baritone threaded with a satiny commanding quality that caused the blood to race to Ron's groin.
What Draco was up to Ron couldn't guess, which caused sparks of excitement to prickle on his skin. After tossing his pants onto the floor, he pushed the covers and sheets down, putting himself on display, anticipating what would happen. They'd been together for several years now; his pulse didn't speed up at every kiss and they had somewhat predictable sexual routines for the most part. On occasion, however, their passion was memorable. As heard the incantation and felt his wrists pulled out and lashed with silken cords to the bed posts, he realised this would be one of those encounters.
Neither he nor Draco said anything to each other. The domineering demeanour Draco had taken on provided unspoken anticipation as he took off his clothes, Ron watching avidly. Lust bloomed fire between Ron's legs and in his throbbing prick. They were both nearing thirty, but Draco was still as handsome as ever, with his angles and slender array of muscle that played under his skin. As he knee-walked up the bed alongside Ron's body, his stiffening cock twitched upwards. Draco's steely gaze raked over Ron, causing him to feel both vulnerable but also desired. Draco took himself in hand and Ron couldn't help it, he opened his mouth, hoping Draco would feed him his cock. Ron loved fucking Draco, of course, but he especially loved the sourmusk taste of his slick skin, the shaft sliding in and out as he sucked and feasted on the hard flesh.
With an almost pitying smirk, Draco painted damp brushstrokes on Ron's cheeks with the head of his cock, rubbing the domed top along his lips even as Ron made a pathetic gurgling sound low in his throat.
"You want this," Draco said, his voice husky and eyes glittering.
Ron nodded, sending out his tongue to lick at the vinegary fluid seeping from the slit, gratified when Draco's eyes closed for a moment at the contact. Tired of teasing, Draco pushed his hips forward, his length sliding into Ron's eager mouth. Draco set the pace he wanted, tilting his hips in and out as Ron slurped and licked, using his lips for friction.
"Gods, fuck, Ron… you're so good," Draco crooned, one hand grasping at the headboard while Ron craned his neck as best he could, given that his arms were spread wide apart.
Draco's praise for Ron's cocksucking drizzled down on Ron like warm honey. Ron had planted his feet on the sheets, humping fruitlessly up into the air, relishing the feel of slapping bollocks on his chin. His eyes flickered back and forth between Draco's pubic hair and his face. Draco had quit playacting; he seemed off in his own world, pinching at his pebbled nipples and thrusting into Ron's mouth, eyes shut, mouth partway open to let out whimpering moans. All of a sudden he came back to himself, pulling out of Ron's mouth with a wet pop.
"Want you," Draco said breathlessly, easing backward so that he was poised above Ron on his hands and knees. The look of desire and loving openness was so unexpected, Ron felt his guts clench at his own rush of needy affection. They really did utterly love each other. Despite all of their differences, and the arguments, and clashing perspectives on the world, Ron knew Draco had no desire to be with anyone but him and he knew just as strongly that Draco was the only one for him.
Draco leaned down, kissing Ron deeply and with a desperate fervour matched by Ron even though his jaw ached. Once his hunger for Ron's kisses was temporarily slaked, Draco quickly slid down Ron's body. He busied himself, giving him a thorough blowjob while Ron bucked and swore and groaned at how good it felt. He could sense the coiling tension tightening in his sacs and warned Draco to slow down.
"Want you to come first," Ron gasped.
He'd grown to enjoy sex with Draco like this, but he'd also discovered he really disliked being taken up the arse after he'd had an orgasm. Logically he'd have thought he'd be more relaxed, but for some reason, the building tension was better. With a last, languorous lick up the underside of his shaft, Draco planted a wet kiss on the crown of Ron's cock before Accio'ing some lubricant. He sat on his heels, his flushed chest rising and falling quickly as he liberally coated his cock.
"Legs up," he murmured and Ron complied, wrapping them around Draco's waist.
He braced himself against the burning squelch as Draco eased himself in, focussing on how good he must feel, so tight around Draco's shaft until the discomfort faded. Draco breathed out a ragged sigh of pleasure, rocking his hips in tiny movements until he could feel Ron's channel was adapting to the fullness. Within a few thrusts Draco was buggering him in earnest, long and deep, each smack against Ron's arse reverberating deep in Ron's body. All he did was hold on, clawing at the ropes that held his arms wide, feeling his swollen cock bump against his abdomen as Draco fucked him. Draco dropped down onto his hands, bowing Ron in half, kissing Ron feverishly as his hoarse voice said he was close and "Godsfucksodeep — Love you, Ron, loveyouloveyouohfuckcoming…"
The pummeling against his arse stilled and Draco's eyes closed, his neck arched back as Ron felt the release far within himself. His own cock was pressed against Draco's belly and the fine trail of hair, blood pounding in his ears as he sensed Draco easing down from his orgasm. Tenderly Draco sowed dry kisses from Ron's temple to his jaw, suckling on Ron's lower lip before sliding out of Ron's thoroughly used channel. Ron let his legs flop onto the bed, regaining his own breath now that there was no weight on his chest.
"Thank you," Draco breathed, the rosy tint of exertion on his pale skin from his face down to his ribs beginning to fade.
"Love you," Ron said, unembarrassed and at peace, albeit a bit sore.
"What would you like…?" Draco asked, wrapping his hand around Ron's sensitive cock.
"Your mouth's brilliant."
"I know it is."
Ron made a sound that was half growl, half laugh. "So quit talking and suck me."
Draco's eyebrow arched impressively, though the effect wasn't so haughty given his tousled hair and look of utter satiation. Regardless, he arranged his body so he was lying in the vee of Ron's legs, every bit of his attention fixated on bringing Ron to a bone-melting orgasm. Which he did, Ron yelling as his release pulsed out of him and down Draco's willing throat. Only after the pounding aftershocks had passed did Ron have the energy to appreciate Draco's very self-satisfied expression as well as notice that his shoulders were sore from being stretched out.
"You're amazing. Mind letting me loose?" Ron asked, his voice scratchy from breathing through his mouth.
"Not at all." Draco delicately wiped at the corners of his mouth with his fingers before scooting off the bed to retrieve his wand from the bedside table. He undid the binding spell and cast a couple of cleansing spells, and then joined Ron back in their bed. Ron rubbed at his shoulders and Draco looked at him worriedly. "That didn't hurt you, did it?"
"No. And it was really hot," Ron said, reassuring him as he enfolded Draco in his arms. He undulated his fingers at the base of Draco's spine, breathing in his refined scent, always present even when sweaty.
"I don't know what brought it on," Draco admitted, draping a long thigh across Ron's thicker leg. "But thanks for going along with me." He nuzzled Ron's jaw, carefully steering away from the goatee. "Sometimes I just want to fuck you senseless. Can't be helped."
Ron's lips twisted into a sideways smile. "No. I feel like that about you most of the time."
Draco snorted, but he sounded pleased. "I needed that. You were making me tense. Most unnatural."
"Unnatural? Usually I just piss you off so much you want to hex me back to the Founders Age."
"Exactly."
Ron growled happily, rolling on to his back and bringing Draco with him, still in a post-shagging glow. He gave his backside muscles a tentative squeeze, making a mental note to take a light pain potion before they actually went to bed later on. "You hungry?" he asked.
"I actually think I worked up an appetite," Draco drawled, pulling a stray hair behind his ear. "But I don't want to cook. Mind if we ask Flissy to make us something?"
"Not at all!" Ron was a bit surprised, but more than happy not to have to leave their bedroom, or even the bed, in order to eat. "Think we have any corned beef left?"
"Who knows. I'm going to need to get a separate fridge."
"I thought we already had two…" Ron eyed the firewhiskey and glasses on the bedside table, but Draco shook his head.
"We do. Business is going well and I'll need a third one for more of my work food. I'll get some wine, thanks." He captured Ron's gaze, sliding his hands down to cradle Ron's face, kissing him gently on the lips. "I'm glad your ridiculous goatee is finally soft," he said, running a thumb through the ginger hair.
"I thought you liked it," Ron insisted as Draco got up and put on his boxers and a dressing gown.
"Well, it does suit you, but I don't like having my skin rubbed raw. Flissy!"
"Oy! Not dressed, here!" Ron exclaimed, pulling the sheets up as the house-elf popped into being near their bedroom door.
"They don't care," Draco said dismissively. "Flissy, would you bring us up some meat and cheese sandwiches? Corned beef if we have it, I'm pretty sure we do, some crisps for Ron, an apple and a couple of wedges of brie for me, and a pitcher of water."
"Certainly, Master Draco," the house-elf replied, nodding its head and twisting its fingers. "Any news from Master Xavier?"
"No. Not yet."
With a last grovelling bow the house-elf vanished and Ron relaxed. He realised he really was hungry as he got out of bed to put his boxers back on and then a pair of well-worn tracksuit pants and top.
"So how is our resident bat?" he asked, earning a disapproving growl before Draco answered.
"Severus is okay, but only that. I almost wonder if he shouldn't have a Healer give him a thorough auralic and make sure there aren't some lingering effects to the Cruciatus'. Or perhaps the complexity of all that he was tortured with is mutating over time. Merlin only knows what he was subjected to before he showed his true colours; the Dark Lord didn't exactly kill his followers with kindness."
He paused, giving Ron a falsely innocent look. "Well! How convenient that we happen to have one of St. Mungo's finest here, in the house, in this very room."
"Draco," Ron warned. "Don't even say it. You know as well as I do that he won't let me anywhere near him with a wand."
"You're around him all the time with your wand," Draco said crisply. He made a pleased sound in his throat when a large platter with their dinner suddenly appeared on a serving-table in the middle of the room.
"Not the same," Ron insisted. "Me doing any healing for him is a non-issue. Forget it. He'd rather die than get my help, and you know I'm right. Which is fine by me," he added, picking up one of the corned beef sandwich triangles and tucking into it.
"Don't be a prick. I want you at least to do a once-over on him. I'll go with you and stay so he doesn't feel threatened."
"Like that'll help," Ron said through a mouthful of sandwich. "This Healer isn't making house calls."
"Oh yes you are."
Draco resembled his dead father so strongly for a flickering moment Ron nearly choked. "Please, Ron," he said, changing his tone and demeanour. "I really would feel better if you did. I think something's not right and he's being stubborn and won't say a bloody thing about it."
Ron felt the hot breath of shame blow through him at that comment. It was true; he'd been so afraid that he'd been dying of something that he'd hidden it from everyone in a twisted form of denial. Thankfully he'd been wrong, but having Draco point out that similarity didn't make him any more enthusiastic for Draco's cause.
"Fine," he grumbled, pouring himself a new glass of firewhiskey. "I suppose it'll be good to have you as a witness when he tries to put some Dark curse on me or attempts to manipulate or break my wand."
Draco didn't deign to reply, he just looked satisfied with himself and got down to the business of eating the gooey cheese he was so fond of. Eventually Ron brought up Draco's latest culinary projects in a veiled attempt at peacemaking, and they chatted about that for a time. Draco asked if Ron was going back to full-time work at St. Mungo's the following week. Ron said that his Healer, Raven Abbott, had given him his full approval to get back to his usual schedule.
"He said I might feel more tired than I used to, at least at first," Ron admitted grudgingly. "Guess I'll have to see how it goes. Depends on how many patients there are in my ward, as well. Merlin's saggy balls," he swore, gathering up the last of the crumbs of crisps and pouring them into his mouth.
"What?" Draco had eased out of his chair to pour himself another glass of wine after giving Ron a disdainful look at the way he'd cleaned up his plate.
"More training. I've a new intern starting on Monday, a bloke from St. Etienne. French."
"Quelle domage."
"Pardon?"
"'What a pity," Draco said, not sounding at all sorry.
"When did you learn French?" Ron asked, flabbergasted, but also feeling defensive about his far less cosmopolitan background.
"When we spent summers in Antibes," Draco replied. "I'm not really fluent, but I picked up a fair bit over the years. No doubt I've forgotten a lot as well."
"You know more than I do, and you've travelled loads more places. I guess I did go to Egypt that one time, and you took us on holiday to the Canary Islands…"
"I'm a good influence on you. You'd think you'd be used to that by now," Draco said imperiously before striding into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
The evening wore on. Ron did give Snape a pretty thorough auralic but didn't find anything out of the ordinary outside of the rather complicated mess of spell damage he had to live with. Hidden away in a distant corner of his heart, kept secret and unspoken, Ron housed pity for their former Potions master. After several years of living with Draco, Ron keenly knew what it was like being around someone for whom pride was an integral as breathing. Snape still clutched to his, tremulous hands and all, but he refused to give to Ron even a shred of the warmth he bestowed on Draco and Xavier. Ron knew that Snape knew he couldn't get away with outright malice, however, and in truth, he wasn't actively antagonistic. Very often.
Ron was pretty well into his cups, half-watching telly, which had two men fencing, and half-dozing when Draco nudged at him to come to bed.
"We're obviously not getting a parchment tonight." Draco didn't try to hide his disappointment, rubbing at Ron's shoulder and glancing over at their large television screen Ron had purchased a couple of years ago. "What is this?"
"The Olympics. Big Muggle sporting thing— have 'em for summer and winter, every few years, not exactly sure."
Draco seemed intrigued, but he took the channel-changer out of Ron's grip and turned the television off. "Bedtime."
Ron made rumbled grousing sounds, but allowed Draco to assist pulling him up from the couch. He got unsteadily to his feet, rubbing at his cheek where he'd been lying down on a scrunched-up pillow. "Can't believe he didn't write," he said sulkily as they made their way to their bedroom.
"He was probably all caught up in getting to know his new Housemates. You know how Xavier is." Draco turned and gave Ron a meaningful smile. "I suspect wherever he is, he already has two best friends and told them his life story and given away half of the treats I packed for him."
"I'll bet they're all gone," Ron said ruefully. "Gryffindors all seemed to have healthy appetites."
"Yes, but in Slytherin, his friends might actually offer to trade some of their own sweets, not simply take what's offered."
"We're not getting into this. 'm too tired, and we had a great shag, and I don't want to be cheesed off before I go to sleep," Ron said through a yawn, shuffling to their bathroom to brush his teeth.
"I think we should invite Lupin and your brother over for brunch tomorrow," Draco mused from the other side of the open door.
"Bit late for that, isn't it?"
"Maybe, but you know they'll be curious as well. No doubt you and George have a bet going, and I'll be interested to see who ends up with the galleons."
Ron coughed on the toothpaste in his mouth. Draco really did know him too well; of course George had bet him that Xavier would be in Slytherin, and Ron had put his money on Gryffindor. There was a smug chuckle as Draco discovered he was right.
With a jaw-cracking yawn, Ron slid into their wide bed, turning down the covers on Draco's side and waiting for him to join him. "What a long day," he said under his breath, at last giving into exhaustion.
Draco cast a Nox on their lights and lay on his back. Ron draped an arm over Draco's chest, kissing his shoulder and letting his eyes drift closed.
"'Night," Draco said softly.
* * * * *
Draco had just taken the orange-cranberry muffins out of the oven when Xavier's fuscous barn own, which he'd inexplicably named Rufus, came flying into the kitchen.
"Is that Xavier's owl?" Remus asked, unpeeling a banana.
"Yep. George, hope you brought your ten Galleons," Ron said, his stomach beginning to churn again, uncertain whether it was good or bad that Xavier hadn't written until the next morning.
"'Course," George said, smirking. "But I'll be going home with more, mark my words."
"Severus, what are your thoughts?" Remus asked, pulling up a chair next to him.
Snape peered disdainfully down his nose, his twitching limbs held in his lap. "Though I wish it were otherwise, I have no doubt he'll be in Ravenclaw," he replied archly, nodding his thanks to Draco as he levitated a cup of coffee to a level even with Snape's mouth.
"Ron, perhaps you and I should just glance at it first, in case he's put something private in there just for our eyes," Draco suggested. "George, if you'd take care of the sticky rolls and anything else you see that should go on the table, that would be helpful."
Ron gave Rufus a couple of pieces of bacon, annoyed with himself when he realised his hands were trembling a bit. He just hoped that Xavier was happy, and had made friends, and that other students weren't giving him grief because of his very atypical home situation.
"C'mon Ron, go ahead and open it," Draco urged, blowing on a cup of tea. It was obvious from his state of agitation that Draco was as concerned as Ron, especially since Xavier hadn't written home the night before.
"I can't bloody stand it," Ron said through gritted teeth. "All right."
He unrolled the parchment and quickly scanned Xavier's tidy, block printed words. For a moment Ron stared, his eyes snagged on the word Hufflepuff. He blinked at it, his gaze darting further down the letter to see that Xave had stayed up for hours with his new Housemates, and that he had been singled out a bit for being a year younger than everyone else, but he didn't mind being a celebrity. One of his new dorm mates came from a Muggle family and didn't know anything about Weasleys, Malfoys, or Snape— but he'd been raised by his grandparents and uncle and knew what it was like not to have your real parents around.
"Well?!" George exclaimed, drumming his fingers on the counter. "You two are awfully quiet. He's okay, isn't he?"
Draco looked at Ron, the incomprehension no doubt mirroring Ron's own, before turning his attentions to their guests. "Xavier is in Hufflepuff. He's just fine."
Silence reigned for a few moments as George, Remus and Snape absorbed the news.
"That's… surprising," Remus said carefully.
"No bloody way!" George insisted, walking over and holding out his hand impatiently toward the small roll of parchment. "No Weasley has ever been a bloody Hufflepuff. Poor Percy's spinning in his grave right now."
"Hold off, I've not even properly read it," Ron said, exasperated. "Where're their dorms? The dungeons? I never went anywhere near the Hufflepuff rooms."
Draco was still reading as well, doubtless ingesting Xavier's enthusiasm and excitement. "He says that the Hat took a while to decide, and some of the Gryffindors looked disappointed, but he feels right at home in Hufflepuff. He's proud to be there, and we shouldn't worry. Or be mad that he's not in Gryffindor or Slytherin."
"Some of my best potions students were in Hufflepuff," Snape mused thoughtfully, raising a shaky arm to nudge his cup to his mouth.
George seemed to be in denial, staring at the letter once Draco had grudgingly handed it over. He continued to shake his head, his ginger eyebrows furrowed before looking to his bondmate for validation. "Remus— you were on staff. Did you all have meetings about students who were obviously put in the wrong House?"
"I'm sure Xavier is exactly where he should be," Remus said. "Now come sit down and let's eat these delicious-smelling treats Draco was so kind to make. I'm famished."
"How can you possibly think of eating? This is a family crisis!" George appeared incredulous.
"Xavier being in Hufflepuff is not a crisis," Draco said, his words heavy with warning and a scowl on his face. "I'll admit I really thought he'd be in Slytherin, or maybe Ravenclaw, but no doubt he'll be a tremendous asset to them. Like Cedric Diggory."
"Look what bloody well happened to him!" George said, gesticulating wildly. "And besides, I'd already bought Xavier a Slytherin tie, and you can't imagine how traumatising an experience that was!"
"Hufflepuff isn't worse than Slytherin," Ron said defensively. He was still shocked and at a loss because he'd hardly known any Hufflepuffs during his years at Hogwarts, just the few who were in the DA. Well, there had been Cedric whom, as George noted, had met rather an untimely and shocking end. Ron would support Xave no matter what, though. "Maybe he didn't want to be in either of the two Houses that Draco and I had been in, or even Percy. Too much pressure or something."
George scowled, a sticky roll nearly to his lips. "Bollocks."
"You don't know that Ron didn't feel a bit that way," Remus pointed out before gesturing to Draco and Ron. "Please— you were kind enough to invite us here, you've made this fabulous spread, and we should all sit and eat."
Ron looked at the seats available to him; he was stuck with George or Snape on one side of him, no matter what. The warm doughy aroma of the pastries was mouth-watering, however, and as his stomach made a well-timed rumble, he decided that George, even in his current snit, would be easier to cope with than Snape. Soon they were all eating, Remus and Draco discreetly assisting Snape so that his condition was almost unnoticeable.
"We should send him a reply," Remus suggested after a time, peeling an orange and picking off the white, veiny tendrils before placing the slices on Snape's plate.
"We could each send him something," George chimed in. "He'd feel pretty important if he got five scrolls at once."
"I'm surprised your mother hasn't—" Draco began just as Pig hooted excitedly, having flown in through a window Ron had opened to let in the tangy, crisp autumnal air. Draco barely kept from rolling his eyes, and Ron knew how much effort it must have taken him. "Speaking of."
Ron dashed off a quick reply to his mum while George made affectionately disparaging comments to the Weasley family owl.
"Yes, we should each write Xavier," Snape concurred. "Lupin, will you escort me to the library? I'll need my dicta-quill."
"Of course," Remus said warmly.
George appeared to pretend that the exchange hadn't happened, instead turning his attentions to Ron as he rolled up the scrap note and fastened it back on to Pig's leg. "I've got to get on to Wheeze's. I'll write him from there, maybe send him something… Hufflepuffish," he said doubtfully before turning to Draco. "Malfoy, fancy a tie?"
Draco's look was mutinous. All Ron could do was shake his head.
Continued here