Entry tags:

my fic, remus/bill, ron/draco, ron/remus

FIC: Fractured and Tethered, 7/7, Ron/Draco, NC-17
Title: Fractured and Tethered 7/7 [COMPLETE]
Author: Tarie
Pairing: Ron/Remus, Ron/Draco, implied Bill/Remus
Rating: NC-17
Length: 36,500
Summary: The war may be over, but the race is on to save Harry's life.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and universe are property of JKR, Scholastic & other assorted publishers, and the WB.
A/N: Written for merry_smutmas 2006 for thrihyrne . Eternal thanks and gratitude to my beta readers, mad_maudlin and nqdonne. Without their suggestions and keen eyes, this fic would be a jumbled mess. Also thanks to inthesewalls and Maud for excellent suggestions during the pre-writing stage, to ella_bane and legomymalfoy for their unrelenting encouragement and for the late-night buddy-up writing sessions. Lastly, a huge thank you to Gina for being so incredibly accommodating and not killing me for stomping all over my deadline.
*******

It took a few minutes to round Remus, Bill, and Hermione up. They met in the library, seated around the table near the stained glass window.

"What is it, Ronnie?" Bill asked around a yawn. He'd been having a lie-in when Ron had found him, and he wasn't entirely awake yet.

Remus and Hermione merely looked over at Ron, watchful.

This is it, Ron thought worriedly. It's now or never.

Twisting round toward the rear door, Ron called, "Come on, then!"

As the door began to creak open, the others at the table began to murmur.

When the door fully opened, revealing Draco Malfoy, the murmuring stopped.

The room became deadly silent.
Unable to take the oppressive silence, Ron blurted lamely, "Malfoy isn't really dead."

And then everyone at the table began to talk at once. Ron could barely make sense of what anyone was saying as they were talking over one another.

Malfoy stood in the doorway, watching them all with a look of annoyance on his features. Ron met his eyes, shaking his head helplessly.

"Thank you for the warm welcome," Malfoy said sardonically, moving inside.

"How are you–" Hermione started, and Malfoy cut her off.

"I'm afraid that is a story for another time, Granger."

Running a hand over the scars on his face, the ones he got from Fenrir Greyback, Bill stood up, his hands then clenching into fists. "What is this fucking plonker doing here?"

Remus rose to his feet, holding a hand up, pressing it against Bill's chest as though to both calm him and urge him to step back. "There is an explanation for this," he told Bill before turning to look from Malfoy to Ron. "Isn't there?"

"Yeah," Ron said, looking at Malfoy imploringly. "There is."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but he did produce the scroll from the inner pocket of his robe. Holding it up, he said, "This belonged to Professor Snape. I've more scrolls in my room, and–"

"You've been staying here, in the manor?" Hermione interrupted, gaze swinging from Malfoy to Ron.

Ron averted his eyes. "Yeah, for a while. I couldn't tell you because of the fucking Ministry crap and–"

"I see," Hermione said quietly. A beat, and she lifted her chin defiantly, eyes boring into Malfoy.

Ron winced; he knew she'd be hurt by his keeping secrets. They were likely all cross with him, but he couldn't have told them! Not until it was absolutely necessary, like now.

"Weasley found me outside behind the mausoleum. I was injured, so he took me in, gave me a fucking nasty potion, et cetera, et cetera," Draco said impatiently, moving quickly on to the point. "Snape gave me these notes. He thought they might come in handy. Being on the run is crap, so he wanted me to be prepared."

"Then where the hell is he?" Bill broke in.

"In the States. He'll be back eventually."
"Why aren't you with Professor Snape, Draco?" Remus inquired. "Why would you remain behind in Britain when there is so much at stake and no reasons to risk being discovered by your enemies?"

Draco gave him a pointed look. "Snape told me to come here. Mother's Pensieve is here and I was to bring it back."

"So you're the one who's been going through my things," Hermione gasped, looking scandalised.

"They aren't your things, Granger. They belonged to my mother," Malfoy sneered.

Ron coughed loudly, attempting to stamp out that particular row before it could get properly started.

"What does Snape want with Narcissa Malfoy's Pensieve?" Bill looked as confused as Ron felt.

Malfoy ignored the question, waving the parchment around. "Can we focus, please? Do you not even care what is on this bit of parchment?" He waited until everyone was quiet before carrying on. "I've the instructions for your Severance Solution right here," he said smugly.

"From Snape," Hermione said.

"Yes, Granger, from Snape. Just like I've said," Malfoy snapped.

"And why should we trust you, exactly?"

"Hermione." Ron cared for Hermione deeply, but sometimes he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake some bloody sense into her. "Malfoy's the one who figured out what was wrong with Harry in the fucking first place!"

Her eyes rounded at the revelation. She sputtered a bit before retorting, "He has Snape's notes, remember? I didn't trust the Half-Blood Prince's book and I don't trust him!" Stabbing a finger in Malfoy's general direction, she railed, "They barely did a thing to help us during the war, and don't you dare bring up Hufflepuff's cup. Their 'assistance' with that was more accidental than anything, and I–"

"Did you or did you not just hear me say that Malfoy's the one who figured out about Harry being tied to Voldemort's soul?" Ron snapped.

Beside them, he was vaguely aware of Remus eyeing them with a great deal of scrutiny, Malfoy's feigned disinterest in the goings-on, and of Bill slipping out of the library altogether.

"Well, yes, but I–"

"But nothing, then! Just fucking trust him!" Ron bellowed. Malfoy had helped Harry. Malfoy wanted to help Harry. Sure, he had selfish reasons for doing so, but what mattered was that without Malfoy's help they wouldn't have even known what was wrong with Harry. That was the reason Ron was defending Malfoy. The only reason. Right.

"How did Malfoy know what was wrong with Harry, hmm?" Hermione asked, glaring at him.

"I am standing right here," Malfoy commented wryly, "but please, feel free to talk about me."

Letting out a tut, Hermione rounded on him. "How did you know what was wrong with Harry?"

"Weasley told me about the brother wands and how the Healers hadn't any clue of Horcruxes or their wands, so I asked to see him for myself. Really, it wasn't very difficult to discern what was the matter," Malfoy said smugly.

"You took him to St Mungos?!" Hermione looked as though she couldn't decide between hexing or outright murdering Ron.

"Well," Ron started slowly, "I–"

"OI!"

Everyone stopped, turning round to look at Bill, who was standing in the main doorway of the library.

"It's Harry. He's worse," Bill said grimly.

"Worse?" Ron asked hoarsely. "How?"

Bill shook his head. "Just trust me on this, Ron. Worse. I don't think we've much time," he said gravely.
The tempers in the room deflated instantly.

Remus held out his hand. "Draco, if I may see the instructions, please. We need to begin brewing immediately."

**********

Brewing immediately, as it turned out, was not feasible.

Some of the required ingredients (like Acromantula venom, a strand of Golden Fleece, Mooncalf Dung, Sphinx whiskers) were, as Draco had predicted they would be, hard to come by. It took a number of days (and more owls to Mundungus Fletcher than they would have liked) for them to acquire everything they needed.

Between the five of them, they drew sticks to see who would remain behind to brew the potion and who would go off to Little Hangleton to retrieve the bones of Voldemort's parents.

Remus and Hermione drew the smallest of the lot. The following morning, they set out to Little Hangleton while Ron, Bill, and Malfoy started on the Severance Solution down in one of the lower level's empty rooms.

Malfoy painstakingly chopped, ground, and turned various bits of roots and leaves and pollens and animal bits into powder while Ron kept the temperature steady. Bill measured and stirred, and the three of them held their breath each time a new ingredient was tipped into the cauldron. The contents of the cauldron bubbled, the liquid turning grey, then pink, and finally a brown colour that reminded Ron of chocolate frogs. The potion certainly didn't smell like chocolate frogs, however; it smelled absolutely vile. Wrinkling his nose, Ron watched as the steam rose in figure eights.

He craned his neck toward Malfoy. "Is that what it's supposed to look like?"

"I believe so, yes."

Bill smoothed the parchment beside him, double-checking. "Figure eights, yeah. Has it got a glossy sheen yet?"

Malfoy leant over the cauldron, tilting his head to one side. "Mmm, yes. It has."

Ron grinned. "Brilliant."

A gigantic wave of relief washed over him. Before the day was out, Harry would have his connection to Voldemort severed forever and he'd wake up as good as bloody new. Harry'd been incapacitated for so long now and there was so much to tell him about, though Ron would save that until Harry regained off his strength and was ready to get out and about. He'd have to take a look at Harry's broom as well as his own; they'd been sorely neglected for months, and Ron was sure Harry would be anxious to get up in the air and feel the wind on his face.

The wave immediately ebbed as Hermione and Remus appeared empty-handed.

"Have you left the bones upstairs?" Ron asked uncertainly.

Hermione shook her head as Remus opened his hand, revealing a scrap of parchment.

"What's that?" Nudging Malfoy with his elbow, Bill passed the ladle over and stood. Malfoy kept up the stirring with a steady hand as Bill and Ron read over the large, messy joined-up writing:

Potter,

Won't you come out to play?
Hide and seek is ever so much fun, though I can do nothing more than spin about without a playmate.

Come out, come out, Little Harry, and end my loneliness.

I haven't heard the baby cry in ages. My ears crave the music.

"What the fuck is that?" Ron asked flatly.

"Draco," Remus said evenly, "please read this."

Bill traded places with Malfoy.

Malfoy read over the message a few times before looking up at Remus and Hermione. "Where did you find this?"

"Inside Tom Marvolo Riddle, Senior's tomb. It was empty, save for that. Merope Gaunt's tomb had nothing but cobwebs and dirt inside," Hermione explained.

"You know who wrote this note," Remus stated.

Malfoy nodded. "My aunt. Bellatrix."

"Where can we find her?" Hermione asked, tucking the note in a robe pocket.

"You've read the note, Granger. Has she left an address?"

Hermione glared at him and Ron inwardly groaned. Why the hell did Malfoy have to make everything so sodding difficult?

"If you know how to find her, Malfoy, you ought to take us there. Harry's life depends on it!"

Malfoy's jaw clenched and he pushed past her. "You've done nothing for me, Granger. None of you have, and I've done tonnes for you and your precious Potter. I'm through."

And then he was gone, leaving the rest of them to stare at each other helplessly.

"What an arrogant, selfish, bastard," Bill growled, ladle clanging loudly against the sides of the cauldron as he continued to stir.

"Shut up, Bill," Ron snapped.

Hermione and Remus goggled at him, but Ron didn't care.

Intent on finding Malfoy, Ron left as well.

**********

Malfoy didn't go very far. Ron found Malfoy in his room, as expected. A pinched, scowling face greeted his as Ron closed the door behind himself.

"Go away, Weasley."

"I don't think so, Malfoy." Honestly, did he really believe Ron would leave just because he said so?

"Fine, you can stay," Malfoy said through clenched teeth. "Just don't expect conversation. I'm done with you."

"You. Are. An. Idiot." Ron shook his fist in Malfoy's face.

Malfoy flinched but didn't bat it away. "As if you are any better," he said, though he didn't seem to get any of his ususal kicks out of insulting Ron.

"So Hermione, Remus, Bill, and I've done nothing for you, eh? Did you forget that we've kept you secret, kept you safe, and all that rot?" Ron moved from fist shaking to finger wagging, which got a response out of Malfoy.

Batting Ron's finger away, Malfoy's mouth twisted and his eyes slanted. "If you think I'm going to do whatever it is you're here to beg me to do, think again. I've done enough, haven't I? I've done a hell of a lot, in fact, and the lot of them treat me like I'm a fucking pariah! I'm through."

"I don't treat you like you're a pariah, though I'll fucking start if you don't stop acting like a twat," Ron snapped.

"You're only down here bellowing your stupid red head off because of Potter, anyway, so stop pretending otherwise," Malfoy jeered.

Having had enough, Ron took up great fistfuls of Malfoy's robes and shoved him hard. Malfoy fell back against the mattress, his head bouncing off the pillow, and Ron leant over him, glowering. "Shut up! Shut UP, Malfoy! If you'd stop being so fixated on Harry, maybe you'd see this'd be good for you to do. Help Harry, and we can use it to get your named cleared at the Ministry. They won't clear you otherwise because of the Voldemort thing, but with Harry's name tossed in the ring, they're sure to grant you pardon! I'm down here bellowing my stupid red head off because of you, you fucking twa–"

Malfoy cut him off, reaching up to yank Ron down to his level, pressing his mouth against Ron's, Malfoy's lips moving quickly, shifting, tugging, insistent. Ron's mouth opened farther and farther with each short, searing kiss until Malfoy's tongue slipped inside his mouth, sliding and flicking against Ron's tongue. Ron moaned into Malfoy's mouth, one hand carding through Malfoy's hair while the other gripped his shoulder, feeling firm muscle and bone beneath his palm. Malfoy was warm against him, so fucking warm, and Ron couldn't focus on much beyond a few basic thoughts: warm and fit and wannashagrightnow.

As they kissed, Ron sprawled out atop him, the mattress dipping beneath his added weight.

"Fuck," Ron mumbled against Malfoy's neck, thrusting his hand between them to start tugging at the buttons on Malfoy's fly.

"Soon," Malfoy panted, and Ron rolled off him momentarily so they could undress, and quickly.

"Done," Ron gasped, crawling back atop Malfoy, hovering on all fours over his pale, thin form.

"You want it bad," Malfoy smirked, shoving his hand between the two of them, slapping at Ron's cock as though testing its hardness.

"Motherfuck," Ron swore, the latter half of the curse coming out as a moan as he collapsed atop Malfoy, rubbing against his thigh wantonly. "Yeah. Yeah."

Malfoy's smirk deepened at that, and Ron was overcome with the strong desire to wipe the damned thing off his face. Scooting back, he maneuvered so he was on one side of Malfoy and then, after getting a firm grip on his hips, flipped Malfoy over roughly onto his stomach.

"What in the–"

"Shut up," Ron choked, pulling Malfoy up to his knees.

"I won't–"

Leaning over Malfoy's back, Ron's tongue darted out to trace the shell of Malfoy's ear. "Shut up or I won't fuck you, prat," he whispered, breath coming out in hot puffs. When Malfoy didn't say anything in return, Ron slowly dragged his fingernails down Malfoy's back, following their path with his lips and tongue. Reaching the dip in the small of Malfoy's back, Ron paused, laving the curve with his tongue, sweat and salt and Malfoy filling his mouth. Beneath him, the muscles in Malfoy's back spasmed.

More than a little satisfied with the reaction, Ron moved lower still, his tongue gliding along the crack in Malfoy's arse, tip pressing against his hole.

"Fuck," Malfoy gasped, his entire body jerking, and Ron leant up to press a kiss to the nape of Malfoy's neck while both hands kneaded Malfoy's arse.

"Wanna fuck you now," Ron murmured against his skin.

"Do it," Malfoy said quickly, and then the bastard started pulling himself off beneath Ron.

"Oh, I'll fucking do it," he said through gritted teeth. Spitting in the centre of one palm, Ron licked the other before wrapping his fingers around his cock. The saliva slid easily over his cock, making the skin glisten while his balls tightened with anticipation.

Malfoy kept making low, keening noises, and Ron wanted those noises to turn into his name in the worst way.

"Puttin' it in now," Ron gasped, one hand on Malfoy's arse and the other wrapped round his cock. Biting down hard on his lower lip, Ron shifted forward.

And missed.

The head of his cock smacked against Malfoy's arse.

"Fucking–" Growling, Ron canted his hips back and repositioned himself. Gonna do it. Concentrating hard, Ron snapped his hips forward, cock hitting just below the crinkle.

Malfoy groaned beneath him, and Ron let out a litany of curses as he steadied himself and pushed in again. This time it worked; the head breached Malfoy's hole, and Ron gasped as Malfoy's muscles began to clamp down around him, practically urging him to push himself in the rest of the way. So he did, and Malfoy exhaled sharply.

And then they began to move. It wasn't perfect and it took some time to find a rhythm, but none of that mattered because it felt too fucking good to be inside Malfoy, so Ron didn't give a flying fuck if they had a few technical difficulties. Malfoy rocked back against Ron's cock, grunting and gasping as he stroked himself off as well, and Ron thrust forward hard and fast, his balls slapping against Malfoy's arse on each downstroke. Every time Malfoy moaned, Ron died a little on the inside, and he wanted more. More moaning, more rocking, more clenching, more more more.

But then everything began to speed up and then, as he dug his hands into Malfoy's hips and bucked up and into Malfoy with a strangled sobmoan, Ron came. Malfoy didn't last much longer, and Ron pulled out when both of their shaking subsided.

Malfoy sank down atop the duvet, and Ron rolled off him, sprawling out on the other half of the bed.

"Fuck, Malfoy," he panted, trying to catch his breath.

Then there was silence for a long time, the only soft sounds that of their breathing.

Just as Ron was beginning to drift off to sleep, Malfoy spoke quietly.

"I know where she is. I'll tell them."

"Tomorrow, yeah?" Ron asked, snuffling his face against a pillow.

"Tomorrow. Yeah."

**********

Ron slipped out before Malfoy awoke. After a lengthy time in the bath, during which he contemplated drowning himself so he wouldn't have to figure out what the bloody fuck was really going on with Malfoy and himself (As how could he deny now that something was going on?), Ron helped Dobby set the table for breakfast.

By the time Remus, Bill, and Hermione (Malfoy mercifully not among them) entered the dining hall, Ron was nursing his second cuppa and going over some paperwork for Hermione's S.P.E.W.S., which would be opening within the next few weeks. No one said a word. The only sounds in the hall came from the scraping of chairs against the stone floor and the clinking of plates. As he shoved bacon in his mouth, Ron felt a pair of eyes or two staring at him, but he didn't give anyone the satisfaction of looking at them. He was too consumed by his thoughts, which were dominated by choruses of Bloody hells and I shagged Malfoys and I've gone completely round the ruddy twist nows.

"Spinner's End." Malfoy's voice echoed in the empty hall, and four heads swivelled in his direction.

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione asked stiffly, clearly miffed by his behavior yesterday.

"My aunt is at Spinner's End." One brow arched as his chin jutted out almost defiantly. "You wanted to know where she is, didn't you?"

"Spinner's End. Why'd she be there? That's nowhere near Little Hangleton," Bill said, popping a biscuit into his mouth.

"Snape's home is there," Remus said.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. Snape had hated Remus. It was decidedly curious as to why Remus knew where Snape's home was, but that was a mystery to solve another time.

"How d'you figure that's where she is?" Ron asked, then turned his face away as he felt heat rising in his cheeks. Motherfucker. Must control myself. Act NATURAL.

Malfoy slowly walked along the length of the table until he stood before Ron. "Because she said so in her letter. That's how I figure. '...I can do nothing more than spin...Come out...and end my loneliness.' She was being rather forward, if you knew what to look for," Malfoy told him, grey eyes meeting blue. There wasn't any hint of...Ron didn't know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, it wasn't there. What was there was determination and pride, and Ron found himself smiling a little as he nodded at Malfoy.
"Then let's not waste any time," Bill declared, gulping down the last of his pumpkin juice. "Hermione, why don't you and Remus work out the logistics and the rest of us'll see to the supplies?

As everyone began to branch off to do their part, Ron poked about long enough so he fell in step behind Malfoy, who was walking a few paces behind Bill as they went to the pantry.

Quickening his step, Ron walked closely behind Malfoy. Leaning forward, he murmured, "Thank you," and then straightened. He slowed down so he wasn't quite so on top of Malfoy again. Malfoy glanced over his shoulder and said nothing, though Ron did not miss the way both corners of his mouth lifted, even if it was only for a bloody second.

**********

Just as Ron was shoving a sack of Darkness Powder into Bill's rucksack, Hermione stuck her head in the pantry.

"'lo, Hermione," Ron said, cramming the satchel into an inner pocket.

"Hello," she said, and then she gestured to the rucksack. "We won't be needing that today."

"Why not?" Malfoy asked, poking his head out of a box full of shirts and scarves and things that'd been woven with a Shielding Charm, leftover items from the twins' old shop.

"It's Full Moon tonight," she said and, from behind Malfoy, Bill groaned.

"Yeah, it is. Remus and I were talking about it this morning, but in all the excitement of Harry and-- we let go of it, got caught up in this," he asked, leaning against the wall.

"We'll just...go tomorrow then," Ron said automatically. "First thing. Bright and early and all that."

"Remus's delivery of Wolfsbane from Slughorn came just a few minutes ago," Hermione said. "He's taken it, but I can't believe I didn't think to mention the full moon earlier when–"

"Granger, it happens," Malfoy butted in. "We'll go tomorrow, like Weasley said."

Rather impressed, but moreso surprised, by that little display of maturity, Ron gawked at Malfoy. He vaguely recalled Malfoy being a bit of a git about Remus being a werewolf back during their Hogwarts days, so this was unexpected. And different. But definitely good.

"Remus took the Wolfsbane, but I'm going to watch over him tonight, just in case," she said, and she actually smiled at Malfoy. Ron thought he might die of shock. "Maybe you could help Ron look after Bill, Malfoy?"

Malfoy winced, then looked at Bill with a bit of horror plastered across his face. "Doesn't Wolfsbane do the trick? You'll just be curled up and harmless, right?"

"No, it doesn't work. I wasn't bitten during a full moon, remember?" Bill said tersely, scowling at Malfoy. "I don't turn into a werewolf, which I'm sure just chaps your mate Greyback's arse."

"He was never my mate," Draco said through gritted teeth.

"Right then!" Ron said loudly, trying to draw attention away from the mounting tempers. "No, Bill doesn't turn. He just goes completely mental and acts like he is," Ron added.

Bill snorted. "Thanks, little brother."

"Well, you bloody do, so piss off." To Malfoy, Ron queried, "So? In or out?"

Malfoy's mouth became very thin, so thin Ron expected it to simply disappear. "I don't really have a choice, now do I?"

Shaking his head, Bill chuckled a little, his irritation fading, and Ron smirked. "No, not really."

"Fuck me," Malfoy moaned.

Already did, one of the voices in Ron's head piped up, and Ron promptly put his face in his palm.


**********

Bill paced about the room anxiously. "Just want to get it over with," he muttered, running his hands through his hair, tugging on the ends.

Ron couldn't blame him. It always looked fucking horrendous, and undoubtedly actually experiencing it was tonnes worse than watching.

Malfoy said nothing, wedging himself in the corner opposite Bill. His skin was practically as pale as his hair, and Ron felt a bit bad about locking Malfoy in there with them.

"If you really want to leave, Malfoy I can remove the Locking Charm," Ron offered.

Malfoy scowled. "I'm fine, Weasley. If you can handle this, I surely can." To Bill, he said, "Don't even think about biting me."

"What, when you look like such a tasty morsel?" Bill asked, leering. He then threw back his head and howled, and Ron chortled, clapping in appreciation.

"Good show, Bill," Ron laughed. "That'll teach him t–"

A horrid snarling noise sounded, and Ron cut off, staring at his brother in horror. Ron hadn't realised the time was so close. None of them had.

Malfoy shrank back even farther into his corner, and Ron winced as Bill leant backwards, his back bowing in a 'c'.Bill's shoulders hunched over and his hands clenched up, as though he were trying to hold them like great ruddy paws. Ron backed up slowly as Bill flung his torso forward, his jaws snapping and his teeth gnashing wildly. Malfoy's eyes were wide with panic, and he was fidgeting so much that it could only mean trouble.

"Don't move," Ron whispered, trying his best to bloody be statue-like. He wanted to hold off as long as he could from Stunning Bill; Bill had to learn to control this at some point, and Ron was certain he saw a tiny bit of improvement each time–

But Malfoy didn't listen.

Bill's hands scratched at his face and he howled, which made Malfoy scoot a few metres along the wall toward the door. Seeing this, Bill growled and sprung into action, propelling himself toward Malfoy.

Malfoy cried out and made a beeline for the opposite wall, cutting the corner at the last moment before impact. Bill was hot on his heels, teeth clacking and raw, primal gutteral sounds spilling past his lips. When Malfoy swerved to the left, Bill didn't stop quickly enough and slammed into the wall. The force of the collision knocked him back and on his arse. He clamored to his feet and headed for Ron, who scrambled for his wand. As his fingers found and wrapped around the hilt, he saw that a panel in the wall had seemingly disappeared. Just as he yelled out the incantation for the Body Bind, he saw Malfoy disappear into the passageway.

Bill fell to the ground with a crash, and Ron fell back against the wall, bloody exhausted. He slid down it, drawing his knees up to his chest. In front of him, Bill laid still, and Ron's eyes flickered from his brother to the curious passageway. If he weren't worried that Bill might break the hex or that it might wear off, Ron would have investigated. He couldn't risk leaving Bill alone, though.

"Oi, Malfoy!" Ron called, then tilted his ear toward the passage.

Nothing.

Conjuring a glass of water, Ron gulped it down and began the long wait for the moon to give way to the sun.

**********

"Weasley," a voice hissed in his ear, and then his shoulders were being shaken from side to side.
Blinking blearily, Ron rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Mrphmwha?"

"Wake up, you tit."

With a noise between a yawn and a snort, Ron sat up, nearly beaning his head off Malfoy's knee. "You're back," he said with surprise.
"Where else would I be?" Malfoy asked, waving at the door. "Can't reverse your Locking Charm without my wand."

"Good point," Ron admitted, glancing over at his brother. Beside him, Bill, still bound, was asleep. Flicking his wand, Ron muttered, "Finite Incantatum." Bill's body went slack and the door creaked open.

Malfoy's eyes flickered from the door to Ron to the passageway.

"What's down there, Malfoy?" Ron asked curiously.

"It leads to a room below my family's mausoleum," Malfoy said tersely, "though that isn't of any consequence right now."

"Well then what is?" Ron asked, annoyed. Bloody Malfoy, always needing to build up suspense to a big reveal.

"I've found what Snape wanted: Mother's Pensieve."

"Your mum's Pensieve is...down there?" Ron jerked his chin toward the passageway, head tilting to the side as he tried to discern why anyone would keep their Pensieve in a place like that.

Malfoy nodded.

Ron's lip curled. Confused, he asked, "What did he want with it?"

"Some time ago, before they killed Mother, Snape sent her a parcel that had with it explicit instructions as to how she was to take care of it. Can you guess what was in the parcel, Weasley?"

"A memory?" Ron said, taking a stab.

Malfoy's lips twisted wryly. "Very good. It was one of Snape's memories, one he entrusted to my mother. She was to place this memory in her Pensieve; never to look at it, no matter what; and protect it at all costs. I never knew what the memory was; Snape never told me that. All he ever said was that it was of utmost importance that I retrieve it and bring it to him."

"But you've looked at the memory now, haven't you?" Ron asked. A beat, and then he added, "I would, were it me."
"I've no doubt about that. You Gryffindors were a nosy lot, always did what you pleased, bent the rules without so much as a care," Malfoy blustered.

Ron rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "So, you looked at it."

"Of course I did!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Do you honestly think I wouldn't have?"

Smirking, Ron shook his head. "Nah. You're a nosier prat than all of Gryffindor combined."

"Yes, I am," Malfoy agreed before pressing on. "It's a memory Snape has of Dumbledore, from sometime during our sixth year."

At mention of Dumbledore, Ron bowed his head. It was so hard to believe sometimes, even now, that he was dead. Chasing after the Horcruxes for all those years, Harry talked often about the information Dumbledore had given him, and that had helped to make his passing a bit less difficult. "What did Dumbledore do in the memory?"

"He told Snape that he knew about me. He knew Voldemort was holding Mother and Father over my head, and he told Snape to protect me, to make sure I didn't take the Mark." Malfoy's voice broke a little, but he didn't stop recounting what he'd seen. "And he told Snape he was dying. Dumbledore was dying because of what he'd gone through to get one of the Horcuxes, and he looked Snape in the eye and made Snape promise to kill him if it would help him remain on Voldemort's good side."

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed, tilting his head to get a look at Malfoy. "You saw all that?"

"No, I made it all up," Malfoy said. Then: "Yes, I saw all that."

"D'you know what this means?" Ron asked slowly, Malfoy's words replaying in his mind.

"It means I've found what Snape asked me to find," Malfoy said simply.

Ron snorted. "Now who's the tit? No, Dumbledore's vouched for you – and for Snape – and you've solid, irrefutable proof; that's what that means!"
" Weasley," Malfoy began, sounding very much as though he were trying to keep a rein on his temper, "you ought not–"

A groan sounded beside them as Bill stirred.

"Oi, Bill." Ron touched his shoulder lightly. "I'll move you to your room in a mo, okay? Dobby'll bring up tea, you can have a lie-in, it'll be brilliant."

"Brilliant," Bill repeated, one arm moving to lay across his face.

"Brilliant," Ron said firmly, looking at Malfoy.
And it was. Or it would be, when Malfoy got his named cleared with the Ministry.

**********

Remus and Bill were too weak from the full moon to go to Spinner's End or look after Harry, so Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy drew sticks. Ron's was the smallest of the lot, which meant he would be the one to stay behind.

As he watched Hermione and Malfoy double-check their supplies for the mission, bickering madly all the while, Ron had to shake his head. Either they were going to destroy the bones of Voldemort's parents or each other; he wasn't sure which outcome had the better odds.

When the last of the things were packed, Hermione and Malfoy set out for the Floo while Ron looked on.

"Malfoy, can I talk to you for a mo?" Ron called. Hermione's brows shot up and she gave Ron a questioning look, but he just waved her on ahead. "I won't keep him long."

"You'd better not, Ron," she warned.

"I won't."

Hermione disappeared round a corner about the same time Malfoy made it to where Ron was waited.

"What is it, Weasley?" Malfoy asked. A mischievous smile curved his mouth, and he added, "'You'd better not keep me long'" in a shrill voice that was a poor, albeit humourous, imitation of Hermione.

"Well, you ought to... You should be prepared, you know?" Ron said awkwardly, reaching inside his robe. "In case something might happen."

"Nothing's going to happen to me. Granger the Good will protect little old me," Malfoy said, eyes rolling.

"I'm serious, Malfoy." All of a sudden his palms were hot and sweaty and he felt light-headed, all out of sorts. "Here," he mumbled, withdrawing Malfoy's wand from his pocket, thrusting it in his hand. "Take it."

"Weasley," Malfoy said slowly, his fingers gently curling around the hilt of his wand, "I--"

"It's your wand," Ron interrupted, "and so...use it well. Or something. Extenuating circumstances and all that."

"Extenuating circumstances," Malfoy repeated.
"Yeah," Ron grunted.

Malfoy grew absolutely silent, staring at Ron so hard that Ron thought he might actually be looking straight through him. Uncomfortable, Ron shifted his weight from foot to foot. And then quickly, unexpectedly, heatedly, Malfoy pressed Ron against the wall and crushed his mouth to Ron's.

As soon as it began, it was over, and Malfoy was running down the hall toward the Floo, leaving Ron with bruised lips and a heavy, worried heart.

**********

So, Ron stayed behind to play nursemaid while Hermione and Malfoy set out to find Bellatrix Lestrange and free Harry from Voldemort once and for all.

While Ron tried not to think on them and what they might be doing at the moment, it was awfully hard not to think about it. He did his best to stay busy as all hell, moving from Harry's room to Remus' to Bill's and back again, but since Harry was in a coma-type thing and Remus and Bill were knackered from the full moon, Ron had more time for himself and his thoughts than he should have had, considering the situation.

Taking what had to be his eighth cuppa for the day, Ron lumbered down the corridor and pushed open Bill's door. Parking his arse in the wingback chair beside Bill's bed, Ron sighed.

He blew on his tea, took a sip, and frowned as he checked the time on the huge grandfather clock near the writing desk. It had barely advanced since the last time he'd been in to sit with Bill that afternoon. Hermione was perfectly capable of taking care of herself; Ron had seen that with his own two bloody eyes time and again. But Malfoy? Malfoy was hot-headed with his wand and tended to show off. Knowing him, he'd get entirely too smug about something, become distracted, and then he'd end up fucking dead.

Ron should've insisted on going in Malfoy's place. He should've refused to give Malfoy his wand and made him fucking stay behind with Bill, Remus, and Harry.

"God, I'm a ruddy moron," Ron muttered, then knocked back the rest of his tea.

"Yeah, you are," Bill mumbled, rolling onto his side. Pushing a shock of ginger hair out of his eyes, he gave Ron a tired grin.

"Fuck off," Ron retorted, because it was expected, not because he was in the mood to have a bit of a row.

"Have you now?" Bill asked, the grin becoming sly.

Ron blinked. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"This?" Bill propped himself up on one elbow and made a rather vulgar gesture with one hand. "You and Malfoy, eh?"

Sputtering ,Ron shook his head vehemently, hair flopping madly. "I don't know what you're on about, brother. I reckon you howled yourself barmy last night."

"Oh, come off it, Ronnie. I've seen the way you look at him– and his arse," Bill laughed, reaching round to wedge his pillow between the headboard and his back.

"What about the way you look at Remus, huh?" Ron shot back and then winced. DENIAL. I should have sodding denied it. Christ, I'm a moron.

"What d'you mean, the way I 'look' at him?" Bill asked, brow furrowing.

"I've seen you gaze at him," Ron said smugly. "Like this." He made a production out of mooning longingly at something, complete with a heavy sigh and batting eyes.
"I do not gaze at Remus," Bill protested. And then: "Maybe I do just a little, but it's nothing compared to you. Christ, you pant after him like you've ingested two or three Ton-Tongue Toffees."

It took a moment for Ron to process this, and then he sputtered.

Bill smirked yet again, and Ron had half a mind to hex his gob off. It would serve him right, the twat.

Puffing his chest, Ron decided he would be the better man and ignore his brother's jibes. Obviously Bill was trying to get a rise out of him and Ron would not take the stupid bait.

"It's been a while," Bill commented after a great deal of silence.

"Yeah."

"You worried?"

A lump rose in his throat and Ron had to swallow hard to make it go away. Inhaling slowly and deeply, he nodded.

Groaning, Bill slid out of bed and Ron rushed to his side, sliding an arm round his middle to help hold him up. "What're you doing?" Ron asked, brows knitting together.

"Let's pop in on Harry and Remus, yeah? It'll take your mind off things...and mine," Bill suggested.
Ron agreed, and they headed out of the room.

They hadn't gone more than a few feet before they caught sight of Remus; he was headed in their direction.

"I was just coming to get you. You need to see this," Remus said quickly, waving them toward Harry's room.

"Remus, what–" Ron started, but Remus just shushed him.

"Come on," he said urgently, and Ron and Bill hurried after him without another word.

After entering Harry's room, they gathered round his bed. Bill and Remus leant over it, hands pressed against the mattress to help support them.

Ron didn't pay much mind to what Remus and Bill were doing, however. What caught his attention was the breathing trumpets. They weren't stuck up Harry's nose or in his gob any longer; they were laying near the centre of the bed beside Harry's right arm.

Harry wasn't using the breathing trumpets and his chest was rising and falling on its own. Not only that, but he was bloody well blinking.

"They did it," Ron whispered.

Harry's head lolled toward Ron, his eyelids fluttering madly, and Ron half-laughed, half-sobbed.

"They fucking did it," he said again, and took up Harry's hand in his. It wasn't clammy or cool anymore; it was warm. Ron let out a yell, Bill and Remus laughed, and Harry let out a muffled "mmmrph?"

"Oh bugger, I've missed you, mate," Ron choked. And when he felt Harry squeeze his fingers weakly, Ron thought his heart was going to burst from relief and joy.

"Welcome home, Harry," Remus said, and Bill and Ron echoed his sentiment.

As Ron leant over to ruff up Harry's hair, he froze for an instant; somewhere in the space of the last few minutes, Bill had taken hold of Remus' hand. Their fingers were intertwined but they weren't focussing on themselves; they were focussed on Harry. Ron grinned, making note of the hand-holding so he could take the mickey out of Bill later. For now, he had weeks of lost time to make up with his best mate.

"Thanks," Harry said hoarsely, and Ron thought that was the best damned noise he'd heard in yonks. Squinting, Harry peered around the room. "Where am I?"

"Malfoy Manor, mate," Ron said cheerfully. "Or whatever y' want to rename it." Malfoy. Speaking of, when the bloody fuck would he and Hermione return? What if-- what if one, or both, of them had gotten hurt fighting Bellatrix off? Hurt or worse? It wouldn't take long to Apparate back to the manor. What was taking them so long? Yeah, Harry had only just woken up, but it'd been a few minutes.

"It doesn't really feel right to rename it," Harry said, taking great deep breaths after every few words. "It's not really mine, anyway. It's for everyone."

"You have to fully recover first before thinking of ways to use this estate for the benefit of others," Remus said firmly, and both Ron and Bill nodded in agreement.

"That's right," Ron said firmly. "No Boy Who Lived shit until you can fly circles around me, mate."

"Give me a broom right now, then," Harry said automatically, grinning shakily.

"Har-dee-har-har," Ron said sarcastically, joking flashing a rude gesture in Harry's direction.

"Have we missed it? Has he– oh! Oh, Harry!" Hermione shrieked from the doorway, and then Ron had to move out of the way so Hermione and her hair didn't maim Ron as she reached out for Harry.

"'lo, Hermione," Harry said weakly.

She make a snuffling sound and wiped at her eyes as Ron crossed to where Malfoy stood. Bugger, but Ron was relieved to see him.

"Did you–" Ron started, and Malfoy nodded.

"It's done. Moody and a tonne of Aurors showed up and I had a hell of a time giving them all the slip. Oh, and my dear 'auntie' should be getting the Dementor's Kiss right about now."

"Well done," Bill said suddenly, speaking over the other conversations.

"Granger did most of the work," Malfoy demurred.

Ron was struck by how much Malfoy had changed since he'd been a fucking prat of a Slytherin at Hogwarts. Actually not taking the credit for something? Allowing someone else to be praised rather than Malfoy?

"However," Malfoy added, "I was rather brilliant."

On second thought, maybe he hadn't changed all that much. But that was all right; Ron didn't think he was all that bad anymore. Hopefully the lot of them wouldn't either, once they knew what Dumbledore had said. That reminded Ron– "Oi, Malfoy."

Malfoy flinched. "You don't have to yell like a banshee, Weasley. I'm right fucking here."

Rolling his eyes, Ron pressed onward. "Tell them about the Pensieve."

"What Pensieve?" Harry asked, and Ron jerked his thumb toward Malfoy. Harry nodded and sat up farther, squinting in Malfoy's direction.

"I found Mother's Pensieve," Malfoy said slowly.

"What did you find inside it?" Hermione questioned, perching on the edge of Harry's bed.

"A memory Snape had of Dumbledore during sixth year. It proves Dumbledore ordered Snape to kill him, as well as that Dumbledore vouched for me and even set out to protect me from Voldemort," he explained.

A hushed silence fell over the room and many glances were exchanged.

"Dumbledore really....?" Hermione asked tentatively. When Malfoy nodded, one corner of her mouth turned down. "I hope you can forgive me for what I said about you earlier, but I won't be surprised if you can't, Malfoy. Thank you for helping Harry. Really."

Harry shot a questioning look at Ron.

"Yeah, if it weren't for Malfoy, you'd still be...wherever you just were," Ron filled him in.

"Oh." Harry blinked a few times owlishly and his nose wrinkled a bit, but ultimately he worked out what Ron told him and got that it was a pretty decent thing. Maybe even a good thing. "Thank you, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. "For whatever it is that you've done."

Malfoy shrugged noncommittally. "All in a day's work, Potter," he said nonchalantly, reaching in his robe pocket and producing his wand. "Weasley." He extended the wand to Ron, who accepted it after a moment's hesitation.

"Malfoy? Can I see you–" Ron jerked his head toward the corridor. Though Ron wasn't looking at him, he heard Bill snort. Flinging his hand out behind him, Ron gave Bill the two-fingered salute.

Instead of answering, Malfoy chose to just step out in the corridor. Ron reassured Harry he'd be right back before following suit.

"What is it, Weasley?" Malfoy traveled a few feet down from Harry's open door and stopped, looking at Ron curiously.

"Here, you've earned the right to have it back." Offering Malfoy a small, slow smile, Ron pressed Malfoy's wand into his hand. "I told you if you fixed Harry, I'd give you your wand back and you could go wherever you please."

Malfoy's fingers curled around the hilt of his wand as he accepted it, though his eyes never left Ron's face.

"Weasley," he said with a slight laugh, "you really are a tit. I'm right where I want to be."

THE END.

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