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Chapter Text

Draco looked blankly at the Dark Lord. “I'm sorry, my lord,” he began slowly, trying not to flinch at the red-eyed gaze, “but I'm afraid I must have misheard you.”

The snake faced man on the throne smirked at him. “I'm sure you heard me perfectly well, young Malfoy,” he said, his voice holding a strange hissing quality to it. “You will court Ronald Weasley in order to gain his favor and alienate him from Harry Potter.”

Draco gulped, bowing his head. “Yes, my lord,” he said obediently, even as he quaked inside. “As you wish.”

“Your father is not to know of your orders. I expect regular reports on your progress, which you may make through Severus. He has been informed of your orders and will attempt to help you in any way possible,” Voldemort ordered, then waved a hand in dismissal. Draco bowed his head again then left as quickly as possible.

---

Draco returned to Hogwarts in low spirits. He really had no idea what he was going to do about his orders. There wasn't a chance that they would be retracted, so he would have to go through with it, but he really didn't know what to do. Courting, especially someone like Ron Weasley, wasn't something he had ever anticipated having to put into practice since it was so outdated, though he of course knew of its intricacies from his pure-blood training.

It was late when he got back to the Slytherin common room, only two students sitting away from the fire. Blaise and Pansy both looked at him closely as he stepped in and sat in their corner. “Is something the matter, Draco?” Pansy asked, a spark of concern in her usually guarded eyes.

Draco realized his mask had slipped in his worry and tried to pull it back up, with not so wonderful results judging by the concern he could still see from the other two. “I'm fine, just fine,” he replied, trying valiantly not to grit his teeth.

Blaise raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow and Draco could tell they could see right through his mask. “If you're so fine, why do you look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders?” Blaise asked softly, still somehow managing to sound supremely unconcerned and relaxed.

“It's nothing,” Draco said gruffly, turning his face away. He grimaced as neither moved to go to bed, then sighed, looking back at the two waiting Slytherins. “Fine. I have a mission and I find myself…” He paused, contemplating how to describe his problem. “...unsure of what to do.”

Pansy gave a soft squeal and clapped her hands lightly together. “You got a mission from the Dark Lord?” she asked, eyes shining with excitement. Draco gave a stiff nod and she calmed slightly. “What is it that it's got you so worked up?”

Draco looked between Pansy and Blaise, considering whether or not he should tell them. The success of the mission, after all, relied on him pulling it off with apparent sincerity, but they were the closest things he had to best friends and he hadn’t been specifically ordered to keep it quiet from anyone but his father. Pansy was obviously obviously excited and intrigued by the news of his mission and even Blaise's face was showing signs of interest. He sighed, he never could keep things from them long. “I've been ordered to court Ron Weasley.”

There was silence for several minutes as Blaise and Pansy stared at him, trying to digest the news, their faces caught between disgust, disbelief, and confusion. Draco fought the urge to look down. There was nothing for him to be embarrassed or ashamed about, it was after all a mission and not something he wanted to do on his own.

Finally Pansy let out a hysterical sounding giggle that devolved into a full fledged laughing fit. Even Blaise seemed on the edge of laughter, an amused smirk plastered across his face. Draco merely glared as they both attempted to calm down. “You... you have to... court Weasley?” Pansy choked out, covering her mouth.

Draco lifted his nose in the air and turned away, refusing to justify such an inane question with a response. It was a mission, of course he had to do it. And there was nothing funny about a mission coming directly from the Dark Lord.

Eventually Pansy's laughter subsided, though a small smile remained. “You really have to court Weasley then? Why?”

Blaise scoffed. “It's obvious, isn't it?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “Our Lord wishes Weasley to be separated from Potter, though the way he's going about it is a bit... unorthodox.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Who cares if it's unorthodox? The main issue here is that I have to court a bloody Weasley!” he whined, throwing himself back in the plush chair. He was glad Blaise and Pansy were the only ones still in the room, otherwise he would have had to remain proper and he figured he deserved a bit of a hissy fit right about then. “How in the world am I supposed to do that? I just know this is going to be utterly humiliating.”

---

“Are you sure this is... appropriate?” Draco asked, looking at the bundle of roses in Pansy's arms with something akin to suspicion.

Pansy fought back the urge to roll her eyes. They were in public after all, though they were the only customers in the flower shop in Hogsmeade at that time since any students who might want to buy flowers were all in class, just as they should have been. “Of course it is. It's the traditional first gift in courting.”

“For a female,” Draco pointed out, quite reasonably he thought. Pansy obviously disagreed as she simply shoved the flowers into his arms.

“Don't forget a note,” she called over her shoulder as she exited the shop.

Draco sneered after her, wishing he could just dump the flowers on the ground, but restrained himself. Pansy knew more about the gift giving aspect of courting than he did and he needed her insights. His mission was sure to fail without her, though he was loathe to admit it. Plus, he didn’t want a pissed off Pansy after him. He had enough stress with this mission as is.

Heaving a sigh, Draco brought the flowers to the desk and paid before leaving the shop as quickly as he could. He didn't want to be seen walking the streets of Hogsmeade with flowers, that would ruin his image and give the game away too quickly. The sooner he got to the post office, the better.

Dinner that night was an uncomfortable affair for Draco. The flowers he bought earlier in the day were scheduled to be delivered in the middle of dinner and the prospect was making him incredibly anxious.

Draco decided, with the help of Blaise and Pansy, that it would be better to do it in the Great Hall during dinner when there was less chance of Weasley flubbing tradition and rejecting him before the courting period even began. It would also ensure that everyone knew what Draco was doing, hopefully leading to some peer pressure that would strain the relationship between Weasley and Potter.

All in all, a public space would be the best place for the announcement. There was also the chance, however small, that someone else wished to court Weasley as well, and would make their own announcement after seeing Draco’s, but Draco would just have to deal with such things as they came.

Draco had nearly snorted at the idea of someone else wanting to court Weasley when Blaise had brought up the possibility. Merlin's beard, he didn't even want to be courting Weasley, but here he was!

There was a sudden change in the attention of the crowd of students, distracting them from their eating and gossiping, and Draco looked up with everyone else to see an owl holding a red wrapped package swooping in. It flew to the Gryffindor table and straight to Weasley, obviously much to the shock of the entire student population, though only the pure-bloods would know the importance of the wrapping color. Judging from the look on Weasley's face, he knew exactly what the package was.

As the other students looked on with interest, Weasley took the package from the owl, which quickly flew away. The redhead looked dazed and more than a little embarrassed as he read the note attached to the top, his own face turning nearly as red as the package. Draco struggled to hide a snicker, not wanting anyone to see him laughing at his supposed beau.

The hall had grown quiet, whispered discussions from the other students the only sound. Potter, seated beside Weasley, was looking very confused, even as Granger whispered in his ear. Draco knew the exact moment Potter figured out what was going on as the Gryffindor’s face when from confusion to surprise to muted excitement.

Interesting, Draco thought, noting that Potter actually seemed glad that Weasley was getting such attentions. He wondered how Potter would feel in a few moments after the courting was formally announced. Probably far less excited, he concluded sardonically.

Weasley had unwrapped the package by the time Draco looked back at him, the redhead staring down in disbelief at the assorted flowers. Pansy had hand picked every flower, so Draco knew they were both beautiful and meaningful. The central part of the bouquet was a beautiful red tulip for declaration of love. Surrounding it were yellow chrysanthemums for secret admiration, hyacinth for sincerity, lilacs for for first love, pansies for loving thoughts, and some smaller sunflowers for adoration.

Draco wasn’t sure that Weasley would have any idea what the flowers meant, few but classically trained pure-bloods did, but he was sure that Granger would find out for him by morning. Research was kind of what she did.

Sound was amping up as pure-bloods who knew about courting practices spread the information to the half bloods and muggle borns, everyone excited to see what would happen next. Courting hadn’t been very much in practice for many years, though it had once been very popular as a way of connecting families.

Draco heaved an internal sigh, stealing himself for the next step as a sick feeling of anxiety built in his stomach. Just because he knew what to do and why didn’t make him any happier to actually be doing it. He just knew his announcement would be the epitome of embarrassment, and would likely cause quite a bit of strife with the other Slytherins to boot.

Stealing himself, Draco rose to his feet, flicking his wand. There was a loud cracking sound, immediately putting a stop to the noise in the hall. Almost as one, everyone in the hall turned toward the Slytherin table, eyes wide. The other Slytherins were more subtle in their reactions, but Draco could tell they were just as surprised, some of them already showing anger or disbelief, though he hadn’t even made his announcement yet.

“Excuse me,” Draco said, trying for sneering confidence as his voice echoed around the hall. Students and staff both immediately jerked around to look at him, making him flush a little with nerves, but he pushed on. “I am Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy family, and I present myself in courting to Ronald Weasley, youngest son of the Weasley family.”

The hall was dead silent for several seconds, before exploding into sound as everyone began talking at once, surprised and confused and suspicious. Draco ignored them, keeping his eyes locked on Weasley. His reaction, after all, was the only one that really mattered.

Weasley was sitting there dumbstruck, staring back at Draco, though his face was slowly turning redder and redder. Draco thought sardonically that the color didn’t do him any favors, but quickly dismissed the thought. He needed to start acting like he really liked Weasley, and that meant thinking at least a little better at him. It was the only way he was going to fake his way through this farce.

Several minutes passed, Draco waiting for an answer while Weasley sat there in silence. He was just starting to get annoyed, wondering if he even knew the proper response to such an announcement, when Granger elbowed Weasley, whispering in his ear. Draco never thought he’d be grateful to a mudblood, but as long as it got this over with a bit faster, he didn’t mind too much. He might have been a Slytherin and raised from birth for attention, but even this was grating on his nerves.

Weasley jerked at the elbow and ducked his head for a moment before standing. He cleared his throat, sounding terrified and unsure. Draco felt much the same, though he tried not to show it as clearly as his would-be boyfriend. The hall began to hush as they realized Weasley had stood and there would be more drama shortly to unfold, whatever was said next.

For a moment, Draco wished one of the professors would interrupt and tell the other students to leave, but that would completely go against the point of doing such a public announcement. It was tradition to make a courting announcement before the family of the soon to be courted, but in a pinch a large public gathering with friends and acquaintances would do. Blaise reasoned that dinner in the Great Hall was as good a time as any, and Draco had grudgingly agreed.

He needed this to go his way, and this was the best way to make that happen. Few if any pure-bloods would be willing to risk the notoriety and shame that would come with rejecting a courting in a public announcement, though for the Weasleys that might not be as much of a taboo. Draco could only hope that Weasley would do what was expected and accept the courting.

“I- I am Ronald Weasley, youngest son of the Weasley family,” Weasley finally said, stumbling over his words as Granger whispered next to him, encouragements or directions, Draco wasn’t sure. The whole hall seemed to be holding it’s breath as everyone waited to see Weasley’s final answer. “I ac-” Weasley stopped, and even from the other side of the hall Draco could see that he was trembling. “I accept the courting of Draco Malfoy, heir of the Malfoy family, for the traditional thirty days.”

Draco almost smirked, stopping himself in time to give a suitably grave nod. Step one of his mission accomplished.

Chapter Text

Their first date came just two days after the announcement, on Saturday. Early that morning, before the first rush out to Hogsmeade, Draco had had an invitation delivered to Weasley, asking him to meet outside the castle doors at noon. He was permitted a chaperone if he wished, though Draco hoped he didn’t. With his luck, he’d be double dating with Snape and Potter.

A few minutes after noon, Weasley came down the front steps of the castle, a distinctly grumpy look on his face. Potter, much to Draco’s chagrin, was trailing after him, though he looked much more cheerful. Draco found it odd that Potter seemed so unbothered by his courting of Weasley, but then again, Potter was a Gryffindor. They were strange creatures.

“Ron, thank you for coming,” Draco said, a smile plastered on his face. Pansy had drilled him all the night before on calling the red head by his first name. It would be strange to do otherwise, after all, but it made him a bit uncomfortable. He was dreading his father finding out about this farce as it was, and the elder Malfoy would be even less than happy to see him on first name basis with a blood traitor.

“Malfoy,” Weasley returned, earning him an elbow in the side from Potter that made him grunt. “I mean Draco. Thanks for, er, inviting me and all that.”

“It is my pleasure,” replied Draco, holding out an arm. “Shall we go?”

Weasley looked at his arm suspiciously for a moment before gingerly taking it. They started down the road to Hogsmeade, Snape and Potter a few feet behind them, obviously trying to avoid looking at one another. Draco was sure he would have found it more amusing if they hadn’t been acting as chaperones for his date with Weasley.

“Where are we going?” Weasley asked as they neared the town.

“On a date.”

“I know that,” Weasley said, rolling his eyes. “But where? I was really looking forward to a butterbeer,” he continued as they passed The Three Broomsticks, more to himself than anything.

“We have reservations for lunch,” Draco said, deciding to take pity on him but also reveling a bit in his confusion. It was juvenile, but Draco felt that was all he really had at the moment.

Weasley frowned. “Really? Where?” He glanced back at Potter, who shrugged, and Draco held back his jealousy that Weasley could have his best friend with him. All he had was Snape, which was not anywhere near the same thing.

“A tea house, I believe?” Draco replied. “Pansy made the reservation, I don’t know much more than the name.”

This time when when Weasley looked back at Potter, there was a look of horror on both of their faces. “Please,” Weasley said as he turned back. “Please tell me it’s not Madam Puddifoot’s.”

“How did you know?”

Weasley groaned, while Potter chuckled weakly in the background. “Harry over there had a date there once,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “I don’t suppose we could just go somewhere else?”

Draco frowned at the desperate hope in the red head’s voice. “We have a reservation already,” he said slowly. “Why do you want to go elsewhere?”

“That place just isn’t-” Weasley cut himself off, jerking to a halt so suddenly Draco almost tripped. “Oh Merlin’s balls, here it is.”

They’d stopped next to the pinkest building Draco had ever seen in his life. There was a large bay window through which he could see the inside of the shop, which was just as pink as the outside. The tiny, round tables were covered in frilly tablecloths and delicate, gold rimmed china. Draco felt a bit like vomiting already, and they hadn’t even gone inside yet.

“Let’s just… get this over with,” Draco choked out. It made him feel a little better to hear Weasley’s displease whine of protest, but only a little. Pansy would be getting a talking to as soon as he got back to Hogwarts.

The inside turned out to be just as bad as the outside. As soon as they walked in, Draco and Weasley were whisked away by a hostess to a table in a corner of the very crowded room, the most private space in the tea shop thanks to Pansy’s reservation. Snape and Potter we seated at a table nearby, closer to the center of the room. They were near enough to keep an eye on the date, but not quite near enough to intrude.

Draco found himself smirking at the disgruntled faces of the chaperones, quickly smoothing it away when he realized Weasley was smiling as well. There was awkward silence for a few minutes while they tried to avoid one another’s gaze, Draco glancing at Weasley when he thought the other wasn’t looking. Instead, he tried to concentrate on their surroundings, but that wasn’t much better. Every surface was covered in so much pink and frills and glitter that it made his head hurt.

The awkward standoff was thankfully cut short by the tea lady coming by with drinks for them, delicate looking baby pink china filled with steaming liquid. “Here you are, boys, enjoy,” she said, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face as she placed them on the table.

Draco frowned at the cups, not knowing whether to be more annoyed with how they looked or with their presence. “We haven’t ordered yet,” he told her, trying to appear polite despite his annoyance.

“Oh don’t worry about that, love,” the woman said, winking, “we got your order with your reservation.”

With that, she whisked away, leaving a trail of lily scented air in her wake that made Draco wrinkle his nose. Slowly, he turned to his date, who was staring at him in confusion. “Pansy,” he sighed out. A little louder, he said, “I’m quite sorry about that. Everything should at least be edible, though I’m afraid it could be anything, with Pansy having planned it.”

“It’s alright,” Weasley replied, giving a somewhat forced smile. “Friends’ll do that.”

Awkward silence descended again, neither sure exactly what to say, until a burst of noise from their chaperones’ table distracted them. They turned to see Snape and Potter glaring at one another, tea in a puddle on the table, slowly moving to drip to the floor. The tea lady stood a few feet away, a pained look on her face as she gazed at the broken china and seeping liquid.

Draco could feel himself flushing as the other patrons turned to look. Even though he and Weasley weren’t sitting next to Snape and Potter, they’d come in together. Such embarrassment wasn’t really something he’d been planning on for the first date. Damn tradition for requiring they had chaperones!

“Just ignore them,” Weasley said, making Draco jerk back to face him. He frowned a little, and Weasley rolled his eyes. “They hate each other and all, but they’re not going to do much more in public. Just ignore them and pretend you don’t know them.” He paused for a moment, giving a small, somewhat shy smirk. “Hermione and I do that with Harry whenever he’s being a berk. It works.”

Draco let out a startled laugh, clapping a hand over his mouth. When he had a better hold on himself, he grinned back at his date. “Have to do that often, do you?” he asked.

“More than you know.”

They both smiled and for a moment, Draco thought that perhaps having to court Weasley wouldn’t be as absolutely horrible as he’d thought.

The date went much more smoothly from there, the two of them ignoring their chaperones and trying to find a path of conversation they could both follow. It turned out to be easier than Draco had expected as they moved from speculations on Quidditch teams to favorite ice cream flavors at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to best spells to use on annoying friends. Without even them noticing, an two hours had gone by, filled with good conversation and surprisingly tasty food, compliments of Pansy.

They were distracted from their date by the tea lady bringing the bill and standing nearby, obviously hoping they’d leave soon. Draco frowned, offended, and opened his mouth to berate her for the rudeness. Weasley stopped him with a jerk of his head, motioning to their chaperones who were both fuming and obviously bothering the patrons around them.

“My apologies for them,” Draco told the tea lady, smiling his most charming smile. She harumphed, taking the coins he set out, and flounced back to the kitchens. Draco controlled himself from rolling his eyes at the display, but only just.

The two of them rose from the table and walked out, ignoring their chaperones in favor of resuming their conversation. They were halfway down the street before Snape and Potter caught up. Draco figured they’d both been too caught up in despising one another to really pay much attention to their chaperoning duties, which he was quite glad about. It wasn’t like he needed a babysitter.

---

“How was the date, Drac?” Pansy asked as soon as he sat down in the armchair beside her.

The din in the room softened as the closest students heard the question, collectively drawing a breath as they waited for his answer. Some of the more oblivious first years were even leaning closer, eager to catch the words of the private conversation. Draco was glad that no one was openly staring, but he was still tired of the attention his courting of Weasley was getting from his fellow Slytherins, especially the younger years. His year mates, at least for the most part, knew enough about him to not pass judgement so quickly.

Still, it was annoying. Without turning his head, he snapped, “Back to your work.” He bit back a smirk as they scrambled away, shakily resuming their work and conversations. It was nice that he could still inspire fear and respect, even while he was doing the unthinkable and courting a Gryffindor.

“Now, now, Draco, play nice with the children,” Blaise drawled from his own chair, back against one armrest and legs flung elegantly over the other.

Draco shot him a scathing look. “Shove it, Blaise, I’ve just spent the entire day with a Weasley. Not to mention Snape and Potter,” he said.

He winced as he remembered the fiasco at Honeydukes involving cockroach clusters and something that may not have been legal but which he was pretty sure had come from Weasley’s older brothers’ shop. The mess that resulted had required a lot of apologizing and a small pile of gold to smooth things over. “I’d much rather have just been with Weasley, even if it was at that awful tea house you sent us to.”

“Getting sweet on Weasley?” Pansy asked, eyes sparkling as she leaned forward with faux innocence as she tactfully ignored his righteous anger over her choice of date location.

Draco just looked at her blankly, a single eyebrow raised in disbelief, until she sat back, huffing. “Fine, fine,” she said, flapping a hand in his direction as she rolled her eyes. “Poor Draco had a hard date full of far too many Gryffindors.”

“That’s better,” Draco said, leaning back in his chair and giving a wry smile.

Chapter Text

Sunday at breakfast was the next step. Early that morning, Draco had gone down to the kitchens to speak with the house elves. It wasn’t something he really liked to do, he usually wouldn’t concern himself with creatures like that, but it was imperative for this step of the plan. He’d talked with a rather twitchy, vaguely familiar one that called itself Dobby, getting a promise that the note he’d handed over would make it to Weasley’s plate at breakfast.

Waiting for Weasley to show up at breakfast and find the note on his plate was incredibly nerve wracking. Not quite as bad as the first announcement at dinner, but he knew people would still be watching. The two of them and the courting were Hogwarts’ current hot topic of conversation. It was rather obnoxious.

Finally, Weasley came stumbling in, Potter and Granger chatting at his side. He looked rather tired, hair messy and tie extremely crooked. Draco realized he’d never really noticed Weasley coming in for breakfast before.

Draco knew the note appeared as soon as Weasley sat down, but only because of Granger’s reaction. Weasley and Potter both seemed too distracted by the food to notice until she grabbed it and waved it under Weasley’s nose. Even from the other side of the hall, Draco could tell Weasley was too sleepy and confused to have any idea what was happening.

In the end, Granger was the one who opened the note, apparently reading it aloud to Weasley. He looked more and more confused as the note went on, probably not used to hearing someone talk about how much they enjoyed his company.

Pansy had insisted on that part, saying he needed to charm Weasley as much as possible because his personality sure wasn’t going to do it. Draco took offense to that statement, but decided he didn’t want Pansy taking revenge if he said anything. Blaise had just laughed.

That note set the stage for breakfast time for the rest of the week. Every morning when Weasley sat down, a note appeared on his plate. He even started to notice after the third day, though he was still too sleepy to read it himself. Draco expected Granger to get annoyed at having to read the note every morning, but she strangely seemed to be enjoying the whole thing.

The week went on as usual, with the addition of the breakfast notes, until Tuesday, when Draco received a letter from his father with the evening post. He’d been dreading this moment since day one, knowing his father would throw a fit over him courting a Weasley, especially since he wasn’t allowed to say anything in his defense.

The letter was tied up in ribbon and sealed with the Malfoy crest. It much more ornamentation than had been included on any of the few letters he’d received from his father over the years, which was an ominous sign. When his father was angry, he liked to make things as flashy as possible in order to intimidate and throw people off. Draco was a little ashamed to say it was working on him.

“What is it, Draco?” Pansy asked, shaking him from his reverie.

Draco realized with a jolt he must have been staring blankly at the letter for some time for Pansy to say anything. When he glanced around, he realized that the other Slytherins were studiously not looking at him and even Blaise looked concerned. “Letter from my father,” he replied glumly.

“That’s probably not good, is it?” Pansy said, leaning close. He shook his head. Letters from his father were rarely good news, and in this circumstance less so than normal. “Might as well get it over with, at least it’s not a Howler.”

Draco gave a weak smile, knowing she was just trying to cheer him up. “I suppose.”

Carefully, he opened the letter, aware that the students nearest him were trying to catch a glimpse. At first glance, the letter didn’t look too bad, it was short and didn’t seem like it had been written in a fit of anger. The shortness was less of a boon than he’d thought, though, since it turned out his father was fully capable of including massive amounts of anger and disappointment in just a few words.

“Well that’s not very nice,” Pansy said, craning to read the letter over his shoulder. He handed it to her, watching as she and Blaise read through it together.

“He doesn’t know?” Blaise asked as he reached the end. Draco shook his head. “And of course you’re forbidden to tell him. Our lord wouldn’t want his plans mussed.”

“Yes,” Draco replied, a little bitter about the whole thing. “Now I have to deal with it. I’m not sure if my being disowned over this is part of the plan, but I’d rather not find out either way.”

“Surely not!” Pansy gasped. Blaise tilted his head in contemplation, then shrugged. Pansy raised an eyebrow, pausing for a moment before nodding. “Well, I suppose it is possible. You haven’t exactly been in favor lately.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Draco said sourly.

---

Draco spent the rest of the day in a mood. The other students seemed to sense that he shouldn’t be messed with, though Weasley gave him a somewhat concerned look when they passed each other on the way to dinner. Draco tried to smile in return, but felt a little raw. There was some part of him that was angry and wanted to blame the Gryffindor, but the larger part knew it wouldn’t do any good.

That night, sitting in the common room while Pansy and Blaise worked on essays for Potions, Draco tried to think about what he could do. Half an hour later, he hadn’t come up with much except to woo Weasley as quickly as possible in order to get the mission over with.

But what to do to woo him quickly? So far, Weasley had seemed amenable to his courting, mostly because of Potter probably, but not overly excited about it. There had to be something he could do or give or say to really make Weasley fall for him.

He thought back to their date, since that was the only time he’d really talked to Weasley for very long or very in depth. Even then, he didn’t feel like he knew very much about him. Up until the mission, their relationship had been strictly antagonistic and based on family feuds and ideals of blood purity.

“I could do with a bit of chocolate,” Pansy said, breaking through his thoughts. He turned his head to look at her, seeing that she was obviously in the middle of a conversation with Blaise.

“We could go down to the kitchens,” Blaise replied, barely looking up from his essay. “The house elves usually have some about and there’s a little time before curfew.”

Pansy nodded, smiling. “Let’s finish this up, then go.”

Blaise had just opened his mouth to reply when Draco sat bolt upright, eyes wide. “Chocolate!” he said, far more excitedly than the situation probably warranted.

Pansy and Blaise looked at him in confusion. “Yes,” Pansy said slowly, “we’re going down to the kitchens to get some chocolate.”

“The kitchens!”

This time, the two of them leaned back, obviously wondering if he’d gone mad. “Are you quite alright, Draco?” Pansy asked, looking quite concerned.

“Never better,” Draco said, smiling widely. “You don’t mind if I go down to the kitchens with you, do you?”

---

Draco arrived in the Great Hall the next morning in far higher spirits than he’d left the day before. He sat down to breakfast, making sure he had a good line of sight to where Weasley and his friends usually sat in the mornings. Pansy and Blaise looked at him curiously as it was several feet down from where they usually sat, but let it go. They could tell he was excited about something, which was far better than him angsting about the letter from his father.

He didn’t have to wait long before Weasley and the others arrived, still looking rather sleepy. They sat down, and a moment later were all bent over Weasley’s plate, checking out the new addition to the morning routine. From across the hall, Draco smiled to himself, careful to not let anyone else see. Pansy and Blaise could probably tell, but they didn’t really count by this point.

“What’s different today?” Pansy asked, digging in to her breakfast.

“Chocolate,” Draco said, still keeping an eye on the Gryffindor table. Weasley seemed to be very happy about his gift, already digging into the stash of chocolate frogs.

“Isn’t that sweet,” Pansy said, smirking. Draco rolled his eyes, but didn’t rise to the bait.

Pansy stared at him for a few minutes, waiting for a response, before turning to Blaise. They seemed to have a silent conversation Draco couldn’t understand, mostly consisting of raised eyebrows, rolled eyes, and over-exaggerated frowns.

Draco looked at them in confusion for a moment before deciding it was in his best interest not to ask. When the two of them got like that, bad things tended to happen, and he had enough on his plate to not want to deal with it. He’d probably have to clean up their mess later anyway.

The rest of the day went by as usual, but Draco made sure to keep an eye on Weasley. The redhead seemed quite enamored with the candy gift basket as he was chowing down on something whenever Draco saw him. The sight of Weasley so enjoying the gift made something warm rise in Draco’s stomach, but he firmly pushed it away. It was probably just that he was glad his plan to woo Weasley seemed to be working.

After dinner that night, Draco left the hall at the same time as Weasley and his friends. On accident of course, Draco thought before wondering why he was being so defensive even in his own head.

“Malfoy! Er, I mean Draco,” Weasley called to him as he exited the Great Hall.

Draco turned to him, putting on a polite smile. He noticed that Potter and Granger were standing a ways away, obviously trying to look like they weren’t watching. It made him want to roll his eyes because he just knew Pansy and Blaise were doing the same thing behind him. “Ron,” he said, “did you like the gift this morning?”

“Yes!” Weasley answered a bit loudly before blushing, red rapidly spreading down his neck. “I mean, it was great. That’s actually wanted to say.” He scrubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Uh, thank you for the gift, you got all of my favorites.”

“I’m glad,” Draco said. “I had to remember what you’d looked at on our date.” In actuality, he’d only remembered a few things, but when the house elf he’d spoken to in the kitchens realized who he was sending chocolate to, it said it could find out. “I got a little help in picking it out, I must admit.”

Potter snickered at that, making both Draco and Weasley turn to look at him. Weasley looked confused, probably wondering what in that exchange was so funny. Draco squinted his eyes, thinking perhaps he’d found how the house elf had gotten Weasley’s favorite treats.

“Yes well… thank you again,” Weasley said, obviously a little unsure of what to do after the interruption.

“You’re welcome,” Draco replied, hoping his smile came off as reassuring. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

He waited for a nod of assent from Weasley before turning toward the dungeons, Pansy and Blaise right behind him. From the corner of his eye he could see Potter and Granger giggling and whispering, Weasley frowning at them. Draco hoped they weren’t saying anything too strange, he already had two meddling friends, he didn’t need Weasley’s doing anything as well.

Chapter Text

Draco got up early the next morning to write a reply to his father. It’s hard and takes a lot longer than he thought it would, especially since the letter itself is so short. The content though, is difficult for him when he knows he can’t tell his father what’s really going on.

As far back as he could remember, Draco just wanted his father to be proud of him. Lucius Malfoy, though, was a cold man with high expectations. There was little praise for a son who constantly seemed to be sticking his foot in his mouth or making a mockery of their family name. It didn’t lead to a very close or loving relationship, but he still dreamed of making his father proud of him, of for one moment being good enough.

When he started to hear the other students stirring in the dorms, he decided he’d worked on the letter long enough. There was little he could say anyway, and moping over it wasn’t doing him any good.

He sealed the letter and headed up to the owlery. No one else was in the corridors so early, which Draco was grateful for. He wasn’t really in a good space to deal with anyone yet.

Up in the owlery, the sun was almost glaring, all of the owls high up to avoid it. Draco whistled for his owl, smiling when it swooped down to him immediately.

“Hello, Castus,” he said as the owl landed on a stand in front of him. “It’s been awhile, I’m sorry.”

The owl clicked at him, shaking it’s head, and he smiled again. He took a few minutes to feed Castus some treats, stroking the feathers along his back. It had been too long since he’d spent any time with his owl. He didn’t write many letters to his parents, and they rarely sent him anything anymore.

It was peaceful in the quiet of the owlery, undisturbed but for the rustling of owls. Draco had the fleeting wish that he could just stay there where he didn’t have to worry about missions or courting or disappointed fathers. But that was what he had, and it needed to be dealt with.

Sighing, put the remaining treats back in the pocket of his robe, laughing as Castus glared at him. “Sorry, but I have a letter for you,” Draco said.

He tied the letter to Castus’ leg quickly. “To my father, please.” Castus gave him an affectionate nip before swooping out the open wall, quickly fading in to the distance.

If Draco stood there, staring across the landscape, for far longer than was normal or needed, well, there was no one to say anything about it

---

Draco decided to sleep in Saturday. He was still emotionally exhausted from the letter from his father earlier in the week and his own in return two days before. A lazy morning in bed was just what he needed before his date later.

Pansy came in around ten to rouse him, some toast from breakfast in hand. Draco took it gratefully, though he would have liked to sleep a bit more. It wasn’t often that he felt like he could laze about like that. The other boys in the dorm hadn’t even bothered him. They were all, except for Blaise of course, still avoiding him because of the courting scandal.

“Morning, Drac,” Pansy said as she flounced in.

Draco grumbled, rolling out of bed to take the food she offered. “You’re rather chipper this morning,” he said.

“I’ve got plans for today,” she said, tossing her hair. “And I plan to enjoy them fully. You’re welcome for the breakfast, by the way.”

“You’ve got plans?” Draco asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “What kind of plans?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Pansy said, smiling as she headed for the door. “Oh and you might want to get ready for your date soon.”

Draco groaned, flopping back on to the bed. He still had a few hours until Weasley was supposed to meet him, but he still needed to get everything together. He especially needed to get down to the kitchens to make sure the food he’d ordered had gotten in. Groaning again, Draco got up and began dressing.

Just as he was getting ready to head out, Blaise came in and began changing. Draco stared at him for a moment, frowning. Blaise usually spent non-Hogsmeade Saturdays in the library getting a head start on schoolwork, so it was strange to see him in the dorms, much less dressing up.

“Dressing up for someone, Blaise?” Draco asked.

Blaise spared him a small glance, but continued dressing. “Something like that.”

“Do you have a date?” Draco asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Blaise smirked.

He swept past a gaping Draco, waving vaguely over his shoulder. Draco stood for several moments, staring after the other boy, before shaking his head. Sometimes he wondered why he was friends with these people.

---

Draco was waiting for Weasley outside the Great Hall at noon. He thought he saw Snape lurking off to the side, but decided he didn’t care to check more thoroughly. It was rather nice to pretend Snape wouldn’t be there to chaperone his date again.

The sound of Weasley and Potter trampling down the stairs broke him away from his concentrated avoidance of Snape. He gave a little smile as Weasley greeted him, and decided it was best to avoid Potter as well.

“I have a picnic lunch ready, if you’d like,” Draco said, holding up the basket he’d had the house elves pack for him.

Weasley glanced toward the front doors, frowning a little. “Don’t you think it’s a little, er, cool for a picnic?” he asked, obviously trying to be diplomatic.

Draco chuckled, waving for Weasley to follow him upstairs. “Yes, November isn’t the best month for an outdoors picnic,” Draco said. “It’s a good thing I planned one for indoors.”

“Inside?” Weasley asked, trailing after him.

“Just wait, I know you’ll love it.”

They made it all the way up to the third floor and down the corridor for the first time before Weasley realized where they were headed. Potter had started making some interested noises as soon as they got to the third floor, but Draco was pretty sure Weasley was ignoring him too.

“The Room of Requirement?” Weasley asked, slowing down a little.

Draco grabbed his arm, making sure he kept up. “Yes, I thought it would be the perfect place for an indoor picnic,” Draco replied as they turned for the second pass. “How do you know about it?”

“How do I know about it, how do you know about it?” Weasley said, disbelief clear in his voice.

Draco glanced at him, but kept walking. “The Slytherin prefects have been using it as a meeting space for as long as I know about.”

“Oh.” Weasley was silent until the next turn around, then gave a little laugh. “We just assumed no one else knew about it. Bit stupid, yeah?”

He was saved from answering when the door to the Room of Requirement appeared, and Draco stepped forward to open it with a bow. Weasley smiled, stepping inside, and Draco followed, leaving Snape and Potter to come in on their own.

The room was unrecognizable. Draco could barely see the walls through the newly appeared trees and bushes which surrounded a large, grassy clearing. The ceiling was blue and seemed to glow with the light of the sun, though there was no obvious place it was coming from. It looked like the most perfect, beautiful outdoor space for a picnic date.

“Wow…” Weasley said, voice full of awe. Draco felt the same way, though he’d never say it outloud. “That’s… that’s kind of amazing. I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”

“So I chose well?” Draco asked, going for casual but probably missing by a mile. Weasley didn’t seem to notice, though, just nodded absently while he admired the view. “Shall we sit?”

They spread out the blanket Draco brought and sat, facing one another. Snape and Potter sat in a tree-darkened corner, glaring at each other. Draco pulled the food from the basket, putting it out for Weasley to peruse. He knew Weasley had found the treat he’d ordered when he heard the delighted gasp and the clink of bottles.

Draco looked up, smiling, to see Weasley had a huge smile on his face, a bottle in each hand. “Thought you might like that since we didn’t get to it on the last date.”

“You thought right,” Weasley said, smile transforming into something smaller and shyer, but just as pleased. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

They ate lunch in a mostly comfortable silence, broken occasionally by surprisingly interesting and enjoyable conversation. The illusion of outdoors and sun-warmed air was nice, especially when they knew it was cool and drizzling outside.

Later, back in the Slytherin common room, Draco tried to give the room credit for how comfortable and pleased he was with the date, but he knew he was actually beginning to enjoy spending time with Weasley. It was just as well, really, since he still had more than twenty days to the end of his mission.

---

The date on Saturday and the study session with Pansy and Blaise on Sunday went so well that Draco had almost forgotten that he had other things to worry about. He was reminded on Monday morning when the mail came in, a red Howler dropped in front of him by a dark owl before quickly wheeling back out through the ceiling.

“Draco, that’s a-” Pansy started, staring at the letter laying on the table.

“I know!” he snapped, immediately feeling bad at the way she flinched from him. “Sorry, it’s just…”

“We know,” Blaise said. “Might want to take it outside though?”

Draco nodded, gingerly picking up the red envelope, before walking quickly out of the room. He knew he wouldn’t make it far enough for actual privacy, but he sure wasn’t going to be caught sprinting away. He did still have some dignity, at least until he heard the contents of the Howler.

The door to the Great Hall had just shut behind him when the letter began smoking ominously. Draco almost dropped it in surprise, but managed to open it just in time. The Howler floated up to face level, making him flinch back. A moment later he covered his ears, wincing, as everything seemed to explode in sound.

“HOW DARE YOU SULLY THE NAME OF OUR FAMILY IN SUCH A WAY. I AM ASHAMED TO CALL YOU A MALFOY AND MY SON. YOU ARE HEREBY DISOWNED AND SHALL NOT RECEIVE ANYTHING MORE FROM ME OR YOUR MOTHER UNTIL YOU RENOUNCE THIS FARCE OF A COURTING.”

There was a moment of ringing silence before the Howler went up in flames, ashes floating down to the ground. He stared at them, more than a little shell shocked by what he’d just heard.

Draco wasn’t sure how much time passed when the doors of the Great Hall creaked open behind him. Slow footsteps approached, but he didn’t wait to see who it was or whether they’d come to talk to or mock him. Frankly, he wasn’t in the mood for either at the moment.

He took off toward the Slytherin dorms at a fast clip, not quite running, but definitely far faster than he usually would. He could only hope that whoever had come out of the Great Hall wouldn’t follow him.

Pansy found him hours later, sitting in a corner of his dorm room. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there without moving, but his neck was stiff and painful when he looked up at her. He must have looked wrecked because she sat next to him, pulling him into a hug, as soon as she saw his face.

“Oh, Draco,” she said, holding him close.

It was the soft, sad way she said it that broke him, and between one breath and another he was sobbing. He noticed with a strange sort of detachment that he was soaking her robes in tears and snot, but she didn’t seem to mind and he didn’t think he’d be able to stop any time soon.

The door opened again and Draco tensed, not wanting anyone else to see him so vulnerable. He relaxed a moment later when he saw it was just Blaise. The other boy had a tray full of food in one hand, piled high with toast and fruit and chocolate.

Draco’s stomach growled, loud in the silence of the room, reminding him that he hadn’t gotten to finish eating breakfast. Blaise chuckled at his sheepish look, putting the tray on the closes bedside table. Draco turned when felt Pansy squeeze him, and he realized they were still wrapped together. He squeezed her back, then released her, letting her stand and hold put a hand for him to stand as well.

“Feeling better?” Pansy asked, voice still soft.

He nodded, more grateful than he could ever say. “Much, thank you,” he replied, wincing a little at how raspy his voice sounded. Blaise held out a cup of water and he nodded his thanks. “I guess I just needed to…”

“Get it all out?”

Draco smiled a little. “Yes.”

Blaise cleared his throat, catching Pansy and Draco’s attention. “Not to break up the party,” he said, “but we have class in twenty minutes.”

“Right you are,” Pansy said, nodding. She bent to gather the bag she’d dropped at the end of the bed when she first came in. “Are you coming to afternoon classes?”

Draco thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he admitted. “I need a little more time.”

Pansy and Blaise both nodded, not looking surprised in the least, and started to head out. “We’ll see you at dinner?” Pansy asked, pausing at the door.

“I’ll be there,” Draco said. “I think for now, though, I’ll take a nap.” He gave a wry smile. “It turns out crying really takes it out of you.”

Chapter Text

Class the next day was awkward, but Draco tried his hardest to ignore the stares and whispers that followed him everywhere he went. Pansy and Blaise were more helpful than he would ever admit, chasing off obnoxious lower years and basically acting as a wall between him and anyone who got a little too close or a little too curious.

Transfiguration was the last class of the day and definitely the most awkward because it was the only one that the Slytherins and Gryffindors shared. Draco sat in his usual seat between Pansy and Blaise, trying to catch a glimpse of Weasley to see how he stood after the drama with the Howler.

Before he could get a good read on the situation, McGonagall called the class to attention. Draco looked up at the front of the classroom to see her pointing her wand at the board, a piece of chalk writing names in perfect, clear cursive.

“For the last few weeks of the semester,” McGonagall said, “you will be working on a project with a randomly assigned partner from another house.”

Everyone immediately groaned at that, and McGonagall held up a hand, glaring around the room. “Quiet. You will find your name on the board, along with your partner’s,” she told them. “Instructions are on the other board.”

She waved her wand and neat rows of instructions appeared. Draco glanced over them, noting a little sourly that the assignment would take take a lot of time outside of class, before looking over to see who his partner was. He almost gasped when he saw the name written next to his, not sure whether to be pleased or annoyed.

“Get in your pairs and start on your individual assignment. When you’ve finished step one, you may leave,” McGonagall said, settling behind her desk and turning her attention to the stacks of parchment in front of her.

Draco sighed, making a face when Pansy made a jibe about getting with his “lover boy” as she headed over to her partner. Blaise just huffed a laugh and went to find his own partner.

A soft cough from behind him made him spin in his chair. He looked up to see Weasley standing there, looking a bit unsure. “Er… hi,” Weasley offered, giving an awkward wave. Draco tried hard not to find it endearing.

“Hello, Ron,” Draco said, smiling more confidently than he was currently feeling.

“Shall we, uh, get to work seeing as we’re partners and all?” Ron asked, sitting in the seat Pansy had vacated. He seemed twitchier than usual, sitting on the edge of the chair and only looking at Draco for a moment before his gaze skittered away. Draco narrowed his eyes at that, but decided to continue as normal for the moment.

“Of course.”

They worked diligently for almost half an hour before it got to be too much for Draco. “Is there something wrong?” Draco asked, trying not to snap. Weasley’s twitchiness was seriously getting on his nerves.

“What?” Weasley asked, head jerking up from where he’d been staring intently at his book. “No! I mean, everything’s fine.”

Draco looked at him for a moment, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, and Weasley flushed. “It’s- it’s just…” Weasley stuttered, looking adorably sheepish, “are you ok?”

The question caught Draco off guard and he blinked hard, trying to figure out how to answer. “Am I… ok?” he asked, unsure of what exactly Weasley was looking for.

“After, you know, yesterday,” Weasley said. “I mean, I heard the…” He waved his hands vaguely. “With your dad.”

“Oh.”

“Not that I want to pry!” Weasley exclaimed, flushing even more. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine. Your business and all.”

Draco smiled, small but genuine. “No, no,” he said, “it’s fine.” He thought for a moment, wondering how much he should say. “I’m not ok, not really, but… But I might be. My mother sent me a letter this morning saying she’d help me out as much as she could.”

“That’s good, right?” Weasley asked, looking a bit relieved. Draco was kind of flattered that Weasley seemed so worried on his behalf.

“I think so,” Draco said, giving a noncommittal shrug. “She can’t do much without my father’s support, but at least she cares.”

“That’s something,” Weasley said, smiling.

Draco paused for a moment, thinking about his family and about his friends and about Weasley himself. “Yes,” he said, “I think it is.”

---

The next two days were much the same, though Draco had regained his composure enough to not feel like he needed Pansy and Blaise as buffer between him and the rest of the school. Things were still a little awkward, what with the staring and whispering, but it was more easy to ignore it now that he was a bit more comfortable with what had happened on Monday.

Transfiguration turned out to be self study for the foreseeable future, McGonagall assigning them to work independently with their partners instead of teaching more lessons. Draco wasn’t sure if he was glad for that or not, but working with Weasley turned out to be surprisingly easy. They spent the entire class period working, barely talking except for what was required to keep the project on track, but it was an easy, comfortable partnership.

Somehow, the two of them finished their assignment for the day before anyone else, even Pansy and Granger. They left the class, but stood awkwardly outside of the door for several moments, unsure if they should go their separate ways or not.

“Do you want to… take a walk or something?” Weasley finally blurted, face going red as soon as the words left his mouth.

Draco found himself smiling and nodded, leading the way outside. Thankfully, the day was a little warmer than it had been recently, and dry, though there were still puddles dotting the grounds.

They walked toward the lake, then started circling it slowly, neither in a hurry. They walked closely together despite the mild weather, hands brushing occasionally. Conversation stuttered each time that happened, and Draco finally gave in and laced his fingers with Weasley’s.

“You-” Weasley bit off, eyes going wide as he looked down at their hands and then glanced up.

He was flushed again, and Draco smiled, raising one eyebrow. “Yeah, ok,” Weasley said as the tips of his ears reddened. Draco just squeezed his hand, guiding them around a puddle.

---

Draco stomped into the common room, robe whipping out behind him. The younger years nearest his path suddenly found reasons to move to the other side of the room or down to their dorms. Pansy and Blaise sat in their usual corner, looking at him curiously as he made his way over to them and flung himself bodily into the open chair.

“Quite a dramatic entrance, Draco,” Pansy said teasingly, a smile on her lips. “Taking notes from Snape?”

“Fuck Snape,” Draco spat, making Pansy jerk back. Blaise raised an eyebrow at the outburst. The two of them remained silent, letting Draco stew. After a few minutes, Pansy leaned forward tentatively, hoping she wasn’t about to be snapped at again.

“Why are you so angry at Snape all of a sudden?” she asked, twirling her wand between her fingers. It was a nervous gesture she’d picked up when dealing with her alcoholic father and she tended to do it whenever she felt out of her depth or threatened. “I thought everything was going pretty well. You’ve seemed pretty pleased so far, after your walk around the lake the other day, and so has Weasley.”

Draco let out a sigh, visibly deflating. He felt bad for snapping at her, and even more so for making her nervous like that. It wasn’t as if she or Blaise was the problem. “It is going well, it’s just… Snape’s much more interested in antagonizing Potter than doing his duty as chaperone,” he told them. “Which I suppose is ideal.”

“Yes, much less chance of him seeing your little crush if he’s distracted,” Pansy sniggered as Blaise smirked. Draco had learned that that meant he was laughing on the inside but was too well bred to show it.

“My little what?!” Draco sputtered, leaning forward so he almost toppled from his chair. “I don’t have a- what are you- on who?”

Blaise raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow, obviously unimpressed with Draco’s sudden panic. “Who else but Weasley? You talk about him constantly.”

“He’s my mission!” Draco protested, trying to keep the flush from his cheeks. Judging by Pansy’s wicked grin, he wasn’t succeeding very well.

“Because that means you should be concentrating on how funny he is and how blue his eyes are and all of that,” Pansy said teasingly. “I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood the mission.”

Suddenly, Draco went pale, raising a hand to scrub through his hair until it was pointing in all directions. “Oh Merlin’s balls,” he whispered, “I do have a crush on him.”

“Don’t look so panicked about it,” Pansy said, laughing a little. “It’s just a bit of a crush. It happens to the best of us.”

“It’s not… that,” Draco said, looking up at the two of them with wide eyes. “It’s just… how am I supposed to complete the mission now. I don’t… want to complete it. I want him.”

Blaise made a hmmm-ing sound, lips pursed slightly, while Pansy tilted her head. They were silent for several minutes, Draco spending the time trying to keep himself from hyperventilating or vomiting from the sudden nervousness and fear.

“You fake it,” Blaise finally said. Pansy nodded her head in agreement, but Draco was confused. This was not how things were supposed to go.

---

Draco didn’t sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, thoughts and fears racing through his mind at the speed of light. Nothing was working out right, in life or even in his own head. He was lost.

Near dawn, he gave up on sleep. Trying not to disturb any of the other boys, not that he really cared about disturbing them but he didn’t want to have to talk to anyone yet, he dressed and gathered up pen and parchment. It was time to write a reply to his father, something he’d been putting off for too long already.

He didn’t see anyone as he made his way through the main part of the castle and up to the owlery. A noise stopped him just as he was about to climb through the trapdoor. It sounded like someone was already up there, talking softly to the owls.

Slowly, quietly, Draco peaked over the edge, trying to see who it was. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when he saw it was Ron sitting in the far corner, talking quietly to a snowy white owl. Just his luck.

A board groaned when he tried to step back down, making Ron startle, whipping around to see what the noise was. Draco grimaced, but changed directions, stepping up through the trapdoor with a small, slightly forced smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he said, hoping he sounded happy to see the redhead, or at least not like he’d moments before been meaning to leave without a word.

Inside, Draco was a mess of emotions, even more than he’d been hours earlier in bed. Seeing Ron when he planned to write to his father was just bringing everything, all the problems and uncertainties and fears, to the forefront, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Uh, morning, Draco,” Ron replied. “What’re you doing up here so early?”

Draco tilted his head, smirking a little. “Well I’d been planning on sending a letter,” he said dryly, almost chuckling when Ron flushed, one hand coming up to rub self consciously at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I mean, of course,” Ron said, taking a few steps forward. “I was done, I guess, so I can just leave you to it…”

“No!” Draco exclaimed, surprising even himself. He flushed, embarrassed by his outburst, and pushed down the urge to duck his head and take it back. “I just mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You won’t bother me.”

“Oh, ok,” Ron said, looking a little lost.

They stood there for several moments, looking at each other and not talking. The awkwardness started to ramp up, but Draco wasn’t sure what to do about it, and he doubted Ron did either. It was strange to realize that they’d never actually been alone together, there were always other students or professors or the chaperones for their dates.

Ron was the one who broke the awkward silence. “Are you ok?” he blurted out.

Draco blinked at him for a moment, then tilted his head in confusion. “Yes?”

“It’s just… you look tired,” Ron said, shrugging. “I know there was the stuff with your dad and everything, but you sounded better the other day after the lake.”

Draco gave a wry grin. “I was,” he said.

Ron looked at him for a moment, just a little too knowing. “But something happened yesterday?”

“You could say that.” Draco sighed, wondering how much he should say. The problem was, he couldn’t say what had actually happened because it was already assumed he liked Ron. No one knew about the mission, after all. “I figured something out,” he finally said. “With the help of Pansy and Blaise, of course.”

“Something… bad?” Ron asked.

“Yes. No. Not really,” Draco said. He paused, thinking for a moment. There wasn’t much harm in saying a little, he figured, as long as he didn’t spill it all. He took a step forward, looking Ron directly in the face. “I just figured out how much I like you.”

Ron flushed bright red at that, the redness spreading up to his ears and down to the edge of his robes. “I uh, thanks?” he said, sounding a little wheezy. “I like you a lot too.”

Draco smiled, feeling unreasonably pleased at that. “I’m glad,” he said honestly, and not just because that was part of his mission.

At the thought of his mission, Draco felt himself freeze, body tensing with sudden fear and discomfort. It wasn’t good that Ron liked him, not at all. It was part of the mission, but he didn’t want to complete the mission, though that would surely land him in extreme hot water.

But he couldn’t hurt Ron like that, not now.

“Draco?” Ron asked, taking a step forward.

He looked so concerned that Draco nearly flinched, wishing things were different. “Ron,” he said, gathering strength to look the Gryffindor in the eyes, “I have something to tell you, and you will not like it.”

Chapter Text

It was a good thing it was Saturday, because otherwise Draco would have ended up missing his morning classes for the second time that week. This time he rather thought it would have been worth it. Talking to Ron, telling him everything, was hard and even a little painful. But in the end it all worked out.

At first, Ron didn’t take it well, that the courting had been a mission from the Dark Lord, but after some yelling and unpleasant sharing of feelings, he came around. At least enough not to hate him forever or to spill the story to everyone. He’d even promised not to tell Potter and Granger, though Draco couldn’t really find it in himself to care about that either way.

Even better, they finally got their first kiss.

It was almost an afterthought, a reflex after the fighting and explanations as they prepared to go back down to the rest of the school. Ron was dusting the straw off of his robes, the sun shining in just right to make his hair almost glow, and Draco leaned over and kissed him.

Ron’s mouth had been slack since he was still in the middle of talking, but he got with the program pretty quickly. Draco was surprised by how hot and wet and good it was, better than any kiss before. He thought, a little deliriously, that maybe that was because he’d had to work so hard for this.

They kissed for several minutes, pressed so close to one another there was no air between them. Ron was the first one to grow bold, hands roaming over Draco’s sides and hips.

Draco shivered, bringing his hands up to hold on to Ron’s broad, strong shoulders as he tried not to fall as his legs turned to jelly. He gasped when Ron used the position to pull them even closer, hips locking deliciously together. It only took a moment before they were thrusting against one another, kisses turning messy and uncoordinated.

Suddenly an owl hooted only feet away, making them both jump apart, hearts beating almost fast enough to fly out of their chests. They stared at each other, tense with surprise, and dissolved into laughter when it was clear nothing was going to happen and no one was coming their way.

“That was…” Ron started, voice hoarse.

Draco couldn’t help staring at his kiss swollen lips, almost missing what was said. He jerked his head up, flushing, but Ron just grinned at him. “Yeah,” he croaked out. He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, and tried again. “Yeah, it was.”

“So what now?” Ron asked, surreptitiously trying to adjust his trousers. Draco grinned at that, making Ron duck his head. “I mean, I guess the mood is dead for now. I’d uh, maybe like to try again later though. If you’re up to it.”

“Oh I’m up for it,” Draco replied, pushing down the part of him that said he should be ashamed of the things coming out of his mouth and how much he really meant them. “For now…”

He glanced out the window, squinting his eyes. “For now, lunch.”

---

Lunch had been an interesting affair, the other students staring more than eating when the two of them sat at the end of the Gryffindor table for a pseudo lunch date. Across the room, Pansy and Blaise had looked at him strangely, but Draco waved off explanations for later. He would have plenty to tell them back in the common room after dinner.

Potter and Granger had been similarly confused, stopping by the table for a quick word with Ron before they went off wherever they went on Saturday afternoons. Going by their dress, Draco thought they might have dates, but he didn’t really care to ask.

After lunch was much more enjoyable and much more private, though the didn’t get around to continuing what they’d started in the owlery. A few short makeouts, yes, but nothing more than that. They’d decided to take it slow since they had so many other things to concentrate on.

They found a quiet nook on one of the less traversed floors of the castle, complete with plush armchairs and a table. Ron produced a chess board from who knew where, eventually talking Draco into playing against him.

“You sure you can take me?” Draco asked, raising a single eyebrow when Ron just grinned. His father had raised him on strategy like this, there was no way he could lose.

It turned out that he actually could.

Draco gritted his teeth, looking down at the board. He didn’t know how he’d lost, dammit. “Best out of three?”

Ron grinned even more widely, shaking his head a little. “Your funeral,” he said cheerfully.

It also turned out that he could lose twice in a row.

“How?” Draco asked, incredulous. He hadn’t lost like this since before starting at Hogwarts. A Malfoy didn’t lose like that, though he couldn’t exactly claim that so much anymore.

Ron shrugged, looking bashful. “It’s kind of my thing,” he said. “Hermione says I’m a strategist.”

Draco nodded slowly, starting to smile a little. “That’s really great, Ron,” he said.

“Thanks. I just wish it helped little more in classes, you know?” Ron said ruefully. “I’m sure the profs would like it better if my smarts were more helpful.”

“I suppose.” Draco thought for a moment. “But maybe it could still be useful. I still have this mission that I don’t want to do. Think you can come up with a strategy for us?”

Ron grinned, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll do my best.”

---

After the chess match date, Draco started seeing Ron outside of class nearly every day. Occasionally they would eat lunch or dinner together, though only when the Great Hall was a little less full. The stares and whispers, while ignorable, were still obnoxious.

More often, they would study together in the library or the nook they’d claimed for themselves. A few times Pansy, Blaise, Potter, and Granger would join them, especially on days when they were working on the project for Transfiguration. It was surprisingly enjoyable, even with all the others there, and Draco was a little bit disappointed that he’d hated the Gryffindors for so long.

On Tuesday, the biggest gift Draco had yet ordered came in. He’d ordered it as soon as he could on Saturday and put it on rush order, which had taken a good chunk of his remaining gold. It was a good thing his mother was still managing to send him small packages, including gold, because otherwise he would run out long before the courting time was over, not to mention what he’d do after graduating from Hogwarts in the spring. That was something he was resolutely not thinking about yet.

Draco gave the broom to Ron in person at dinner that night, earning himself a kiss right in front of the whole student body. It had been just as good as all their other kisses, better even because it was the first real show of their relationship to anyone but their friends.

It felt good.

“Ah, my eyes!” Potter called at them, making them break apart, embarrassed but smiling. Draco glanced around, a little apprehensive, but also curious.

Overall, the reaction seemed positive. Most everyone was smiling or laughing, only a few Slytherins glaring or frowning, though that was to be expected. They were probably the most desperate to follow the Dark Lord and their pureblood traditions, but they wouldn’t be too much of a problem. Pansy and Blaise had promised to make sure of that.

Snape was the one person whose reaction he’s most interested in, but also the most apprehensive about. When Draco looks over at him, the Potions professor is frowning, but Draco can’t really tell what he’s thinking, which isn’t much of a surprise.

It takes a moment for Draco to realize he hasn’t had a check-in since his big epiphany. He sucked in a startled, worried breath, still staring at Snape. There’s something in Snape’s face that makes him think the older man knows more than Draco has told him, which is a little worrying.

“Draco, is something wrong?” Ron asked, jerking Draco away from his thoughts. Ron was frowning, looking worried, and Draco felt a sudden flood of affection for him. “You’ve been staring up at the professors’ table for awhile.”

“No, it’s nothing,” Draco said, shaking his head. He shot a glance back at the table where Snape was still looking at him, face inscrutable.

“Just thinking.”

---

Ron didn’t get a chance to try out the new broom until Saturday thanks to all the homework they were suddenly getting in preparation of Christmas break. Early that morning, the six of them got things together, including a warm packed lunch from the kitchens, and headed out to the quidditch pitch.

It had been snowing pretty heavily for a few days already, so they had to trek through some rather high drifts. By the time they got there, they were all very glad Pansy and Hermione had managed some rather clever heating charms on their boots and gloves.

The pitch was like a winter dream, draped in sparkling, untouched snow and ice. Draco thought it was beautiful, and by the looks on the others’ faces, they did too. They spent a few minutes just looking around, cheeks and noses reddening in the cold, breathing out puffy white clouds.

The moment was broken by Potter and Weasley suddenly whooping and running out onto the pitch. Draco glanced at Hermione to see that she had the same long suffering, fond look on her face that he did. Pansy and Blaise looked a little confused, but they hadn’t had quite as much exposure to the eccentricities of Gryffindors.

“Shall we?” Draco asked, mounting his broom. The others nodded and soon they were all in the air, swooping between each other and shouting.

Ron seemed to be enjoying his new broom, probably far more powerful than anything he’d flown before. Draco found himself following close behind, laughing and interrupting Ron and Potter’s races around the pitch as they called out rather raunchy broom riding innuendos, just because he could. It felt good.

Draco didn’t see who threw the first snowball, but he suspected it was Granger, which surprised him because he’d never really thought of her as playful. What surprised him even more was when the second snowball hit him directly in the face, cold enough and hard enough to leave him breathless for a moment.

By the time he’d caught his breath, the others were zooming around, giggling and pelting each other with snowballs. Draco joined them with a whoop, swooping down to peg Ron in the back of the head.

That morning was one of the best Draco had ever had, though he still wasn’t sure he wanted to admit that the Gryffindors were so much fun. They took a break for lunch, collapsing in shivering, damp heaps on the bleachers. Granger pulled out the lunch they’d brought, the bag charmed to keep it warm, and soon they were devouring the steaming soup and sandwiches.

“Draco,” Pansy murmured, leaning over toward him. “That’s quite an expensive gift. How did you afford it after your father cut you off?”

“My mother is still sending me a little gold now and then,” he said, wincing a little. “I used nearly all of it on this one, though.”

“Oh but why?” Pansy said. “Don’t you think you should be saving it for something more important?”

Draco frowned, and opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Ron, who he’d thought had been too involved in his own conversation with Potter to be listening. “You used all your gold?” Ron asked, sounding a little horrified. “On me?”

“Of course,” Draco said, shrugging. He’d known Ron desperately needed a broom of his own and his family couldn’t afford one for him, so Draco had decided it was up to him.

“But… why? It’s really… it’s really too much for me.”

Draco frowned even more than that, and shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re worth it.”

Ron gaped at him, eyes wide and a little glassy. They stared at each other for a few moments as the others quietly cleared out, returning to their broms so the two of them could be alone. With a sudden surge of affection, Draco realized that they both had very good friends and that was something that was much more important than he’d ever thought.

The silence was finally broken by Ron, who smiled weakly, leaning toward Draco in a way that could almost be accidental. “You really mean that?” he asked, hope leaking into his voice.

Draco smiled. “I really do.”

“I’m glad,” Ron said, ducking his head to hide his bashful smile.

It made Draco smile even more, that this boy he’d come to like so much liked him back and was happy with him. He leaned forward to kiss Ron, ignoring the wolf whistles that immediately erupted from on the pitch. One hand was holding tight to Ron’s without him even noticing, but the other was free, so he used it to gesture rather rudely back at them, the whistles devolving into laughs.

They broke apart, hot breath creating clouds around their heads in the cold air. “Would you like to fly some more?” Draco asked.

“As long as you’re coming too.”

Chapter Text

The whole group trekked back to the castle for dinner. They were wet and cold and tired, but their spirits were high, buoyed by a fun day with friends, even friends who had once been enemies. Dinner had started by the time they arrived, but they ignored the now usual stares and whispers, sitting together at the end of Slytherin table where they knew they were less likely to be harassed.

They’d just started dessert when Dumbledore rose, tapping a glass with a spoon to get everyone’s attention. It took a few moments for the room to quiet, everyone, including the other professors, looking up at him with confusion and curiosity.

“Students,” he said cheerfully, looking around the Hall, “I hope you have all had a wonderful day and are looking forward to Christmas break in a week’s time. I have an announcement that should make the next week even more exciting!”

The professors were looking a little worried by now, trying to whisper inconspicuously to one another. Draco found it somewhat amusing that Dumbledore would apparently spring something on both the students and professors in the last week of term. He only hoped it was nothing too bad.

Dumbledore was obviously waiting for more of a response, but the students were probably too tired and full to do much with so little information. He looked a little annoyed, but cleared his throat as if he needed to regain their attention.

“Ahem, yes, as I was saying,” he continued. “On the last day of classes, that is Friday for those of you who are a little sleepy already, Hogwarts will be holding a winter ball for all students!”

This time the Hall really did erupt in noise, both students and teachers beginning to talk all at once. Dumbledore smiled benignly, ignoring the professors who tried frantically to speak with him. McGonagall had her head in one hand as she spoke quietly to an overly excited Professor Sprout on her right.

Draco would be amused by how Dumbledore had so obviously sprung this last minute on the professors if he wasn’t too busy being caught up in the excitement of his friends. Pansy, Granger, and Potter looked absolutely ecstatic at the prospect of a ball as they chatted excitedly about what they would wear and whether there might be a theme or not. Even Blaise looked interested, interjecting his own comments in every once in awhile.

The only one who didn’t look excited about a winter ball was Ron, who had started to look a little green about the edges as he stared determinedly down at his almost empty plate.

“Ron?” Draco said, leaning in at least for the illusion of privacy. “Are you ok?”

“Sure.”

Draco frowned. Ron wasn’t usually so succinct, and he still definitely looked unhappy, maybe even upset. That wasn’t the usual reaction to a winter ball, but Draco couldn’t think what the problem could be.

“You’re not,” Draco said decisively. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

Ron flinched, then looked up for only a moment before ducking his head back down. He mumbled something indistinct, making Draco frown. “Say that again?”

“I can’t afford fancy robes for a ball!” Ron finally said, just a touch too loud and manic. He sighed, hand coming up to scrub at his hair, as his whole face flushed red.

Draco nodded, mind whirring madly. “That’s ok,” he said slowly, coming to a decision, “I’ll buy you robes. It will be a courting gift.”

“But you… I mean…” Ron stuttered, frowning. “How can you afford it?”

“I will figure something out,” Draco replied, shrugging a little. He wasn’t too worried, though that might change later. “It just means I will have spend the break at the castle to save what gold is left for robes. It shouldn’t be too hard to return after meeting our families at the Burrow on Saturday.”

“I don’t want you to have to do that,” Ron said, sounding a little lost. “It’s not worth it.”

Draco heard the hidden ‘I’m not worth it’ in the words and barely held his angry frown in check. “I told you before,” he replied, leaning in to give Ron a quick peck on the lips. “You’re worth it.”

---

The day after the announcement of the ball was a whirlwind. Since there was no time to actually go shopping for new robes for the ball, catalogues had popped up all around the castle by morning. Draco was fairly certain that had far more to do with McGonagall than Dumbledore, but he didn’t mind either way. All he needed was robes, and he didn’t particularly care how he got them.

Draco spent most of the day poring over the catalogues with Pansy, trying to find the perfect robes for both Ron and himself. He’d thought it would be an easy task, but it had turned into quite an ordeal. He’d grown up expecting the best clothing in the quickest amount of time, and this was something very different.

After dinner, the six of them, somehow now an inter-house group of friends, met up to study in the comfy nook Draco and Ron had discovered before. Draco brought the catalogue he’d chosen the robes from to check with Ron before he ordered them. It wasn’t something he would have thought to do before, and there was a strange feeling in his stomach when he thought about how much he’d changed in just a few weeks.

When Draco arrived at the nook, the others were already there. Pansy and Granger were discussing the robes they were planning on getting, Potter looking on in amusement. Blaise was studying already, ignoring everyone else as he tended to do. Ron had his eyes closed, sprawled out on one of the larger cushioned chairs.

Draco sat on the arm of Ron’s chair, leaning over to nudge him with his shoulder. “Time to wake up,” he said, smiling fondly. “I want to see if you like the robe I picked for you.”

“‘m awake,” Ron mumbled, eyes opening slowly as he struggled to a more upright position. “As long as it doesn’t have lace this time, I’m good.”

“No lace, I promise,” Draco laughed, wondering exactly where that came from. “I think you’ll like it.”

Ron leaned over to look at the catalogue Draco held open, a glowing star next to one of the pictures. His mouth went slack as the model in the picture turned, robe swirling out around him. It was navy blue and elegant, simple lines accentuating broad shoulders. Draco knew it would look fantastic on the redhead.

“This is…” Ron trailed off, still staring at the picture.

Draco felt a sudden stab of fear. Did Ron not like his choice? Had he made some mistake? Their relationship was still sometimes on shaky legs, and they didn’t really have the luxury of making mistakes so close to the end of the initial courting period.

“Do you not like it?” Draco asked, steeling himself for an outburst.

“I love it!” Ron almost shouted, finally pulling his eyes away to look at Draco.

The look on his face was awe and incredulity and hope and it made something warm and tingly rise up in Draco’s stomach. He decided immediately that he liked that look and would do anything he could to see it again.

Draco smiled shyly, trying not to show how pleased he was. “I’m glad,” he finally said. “Would you like to see the one I’ve picked for myself? I think they’ll match quite well.”

---

Somehow they made it through the rest of the week. There was so much to do in so little time that Draco was truly surprised that they managed to actually do it all. He even managed a few moments to relax with Ron or Pansy and Blaise, which probably went a long way in keeping him sane.

Transfiguration was the last block of the day for Slytherins and Gryffindors on Friday. It was the culmination of the past month of partner work. The presentations went well, only a two wrong transfigurations and one explosion, and McGonagall seemed especially pleased with how well Draco and Ron had worked together.

After class they went their separate ways to get ready for the ball. Pansy and Granger went off somewhere on their own while the other Slytherins went downstairs and the other Gryffindors went upstairs. They only had a few hours to get ready and Draco knew there was still some packing to do before they could go off to the ball.

The other boys had already gone by the time Draco and Blaise were putting the finishing touches on their appearances. Just as they were making one last check to see that they’d finished everything and could head upstairs, there was a knock on the door. A moment later it opened, Pansy came in.

“Aren’t you boys ready yet?” she asked, hands on her hips as she frowned at them.

Draco stared at her, speechless, barely even realizing she’d said anything. “Wow, Pansy,” he breathed, “you look… wow.”

Pansy laughed, shaking her head. “I know,” she said, smiling. “And I have plans for tonight, so hurry up, you two.” She winked at Blaise, who hadn’t quite recovered enough for words, and was out the door.

“That was something, wasn’t it?” Draco asked, turning to look at Blaise, who just nodded. “Well, let’s head on up.”

The Entrance Hall was packed when they made it up, though the crowd was moving, albeit slowly. Apparently they’d made it just in time for the doors to the Great Hall to open, signalling the start of the ball.

They found their group near the main staircase, tucked in a corner where they wouldn’t get too much attention. Pansy and Granger were both breathtakingly beautiful in their complementary red and pink robes, and Blaise went immediately to them, giving them each a kiss on the cheek. Potter looked handsome as well in his green robes, so dark they were almost black.

But it was Ron that Draco was really interested in seeing. The Gryffindor stood a little away from the others, looking a little awkward in his ball finery. When he saw Draco, though, he straightened, a smile on his face. Draco almost gasped at how dashing he looked, the navy robes looking even better than he’d ever imagined.

“Hello, Draco,” Ron said, ducking head and flushing a little in embarrassment. “You look… you look really good.”

Draco smiled and moved forward to kiss him on the cheek. “So do you,” he replied, knowing that if he said any more he’d never stop his compliments. He couldn’t help it if Ron was amazing.

They talked quietly for a few minutes as the Entrance Hall cleared out, everyone making their way into the Great Hall where music was already going. Finally, Draco decided they’d waited long enough.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding out an arm. Ron smiled, taking it, and the others followed them in.

The hall was beautifully decorated in sparkling whites and silvers, snow falling from the ceiling to disappear ten feet above their heads. There were small tables and chairs around the periphery, food and drink tables lined up on the wall closest to the doors. A band that Draco didn’t recognize were set up on a dias against the far wall as students danced in the space in the middle of the room.

They made their way to an empty table after stopping to get food. It was almost fun, sitting there and eating and talking while the other students danced near the stage or ate at nearby tables. Surprisingly, Granger and Blaise were the first ones to leave the table to dance, Pansy following a few minutes later.

Draco was waiting for Ron to finish eating, something he’d rather not watch as it could be pretty messy, so he glanced over at Potter. The dark haired Gryffindor was slumped in his seat, staring out at the dancers. If he didn’t know any better, Draco thought he might look wistful.

“Not going to dance, Potter?” Draco asked.

“Not exactly my scene,” Potter replied. His eyes flickered over to the corner where the professors stood, eyes sweeping over the students for signs of misbehavior, before he looked back with a small, crooked grin. “No one to dance with, you know?”

Draco nodded slowly, trying to figure out what Potter meant, but was distracted by Ron finally finishing his food. He burped, which was definitely not attractive, and Draco rolled his eyes, pulling out his wand to quickly vanish the crumbs that had accumulated.

“Ready to dance?” he asked, already moving to stand from the table.

Ron smiled, hoping up. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said cheekily, laughing when Draco swatted at him with a smile.

They ended up dancing for over an hour before taking a break, only to go dancing again after just a few minutes. Ron was a surprisingly good dancer and Draco enjoyed swaying with him in their own little private bubble. It was easy to ignore everyone else, though there were a few times when a friend or two cut in for a dance with one of them.

The dance didn’t wind down until the early hours of the morning, something Dumbledore hadn’t considered judging by his face as he tried to herd students out of the Great Hall and to their beds. Draco and Ron stumbled out into the Entrance Hall, exhausted and smiling, and stopped just before they needed to part ways. They’d lost the others somewhere in the night, they’d probably gone to bed long before.

“So… this is goodnight, I guess,” Ron said, leaning closer instead of turning to go.

Draco smiled and kissed him, shallow since they were in public, but as sweet as he could. They broke away after a few minutes, ignoring the few students that were still leaving the ball, and pressed their foreheads together.

“I suppose it is,” Draco said, unable to resist planting another peck on the Gryffindor’s mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow? On the train at least?”

“Of course,” Ron said. “It’s not like you can avoid me, at least tomorrow.”

Draco winced a little, but nodded. “I have to admit that I’m not exactly looking forward to it,” he said. “Our families don’t exactly get along already and now my father…”

“It’ll be alright,” Ron replied, sounding much more sure than Draco felt. “I’ve uh, had my siblings set something up in case it goes bad.”

“Set something up,” Draco repeated, raising an eyebrow. Ron just smiled at him and he sighed. “I just hope that doesn’t make things even worse. Not that there’s really much worse it can go.”

“Exactly. Now, bed,” Ron said, giving Draco one last kiss for the night before he turned and headed up the stairs. Draco stood for a moment, looking after him, then headed down to his own dorm, a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

Draco missed Ron and the other Gryffindors in the rush to the carriages the next morning. It was a mess trying to get a carriage, everyone tired and anxious to go home, but Draco eventually managed one with Pansy and Blaise.

They were in the last group out of the castle, so it was even worse when they got to the train station. Thankfully, Ron had saved them space in the compartment they’d gotten, surprising with the way everyone who passed was frantically looking for a seat.

Draco sat next to Ron, giving him a quick kiss as the other two stowed their trunks. “Ready for tonight?” he murmured.

Ron snorted. “Not on your life,” he admitted. “But we’ll be fine.”

“What are you two lovebirds talking about over there?” Pansy asked as she took her own seat.

“Lovebirds?” Draco asked, caught between horrified and pleased. Ron devolved into laughter, as did the others once they caught a glimpse of his face. He frowned, put out, but smiled again when Ron nudged his shoulder.

“Just take it as a compliment and ignore everything else,” he said wisely.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Do that often, do you?”

“I have been friends with Harry Potter since we were first years, you know,” he said, grinning widely. “You learn these things early.”

“Oy,” Potter called, sitting up in his seat as the others started laughing. “I resemble that remark!”

---

They said goodbye to Pansy and Blaise at the train station, everyone else headed to the Weasley’s home for at least the beginning of Christmas break. No one was waiting for them, not that Draco had exactly been expecting someone. Ron had told him awhile back that his other brothers would be joining them in a few days when it was closer to Christmas Day.

The four of them made their way to the apperation area, meeting the younger Weasley, who had apparently ridden the train with her own friends, on the way. All of them had their apperation licenses, though Draco had to do a mildly terrifying side-along apperation with Ron since he didn’t know where he was going, so it was just a matter of a moment for them to get to the Burrow.

They apparated in an overgrown garden area, a low brick wall to one side and some garden gnomes lurking near the far end. It was incredibly different than the gardens at home, but he thought it was nice. It looked lived in, not like theirs ever did.

“So… what do you think?” Ron asked, voice wavering a little.

Draco glanced over at Ron to see him looking nervous, almost afraid. “I love it,” he said, hoping Ron could see how he honestly he meant it.

Ron sighed loudly. “Really?”

“Really,” Draco said, smiling. “Now do you want to show me in?”

“Of course,” Ron said, grabbing his hand to lead him up to the house that looked like it would fall down if they breathed too hard. “Mum’ll love you once she gives you a chance. And she’ll try to feed you a ton too, just go with it and she’ll be happy.”

Draco nodded. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior, I suppose,” he said, wondering if she would be as accepting as Ron seemed to think.

It turned out that she was. She grabbed him up in a hug almost before he’d entered the house, then immediately pushed him into a chair at the table and placed a plate piled high with food in front of him.

“Eat up, dear!” she said, bustling about the kitchen, filling more plates for the others. “You’re much too pale and thin.”

Ron laughed at that, earning a smack to the head from his mother.

Lunch was awkward at first with Mrs. Weasley hovering and asking probing questions, Ron, with the help of Potter and Granger, managed to make distractions when it looked like Draco was getting overwhelmed with the attention. He appreciated it more than he thought they knew.

The younger Weasley was cold at first, but began to warm by the time they moved from the table to the living room to talk and play games. An hour later, she was cheerfully playing, and severely beating, Draco at wizard’s chess while Ron cheered them on.

Mr. Weasley arrived from work half an hour before Draco’s parents were set to arrive and for a few minutes things picked up as he went around greeting everyone. To Draco, he seemed wary but kind, willing to go beyond what a prick Draco had been in the past.

The meeting and dinner time arrived much too fast, and soon Potter, Granger, and the younger Weasley were herded upstairs with plates of food, given explicit instructions to amuse themselves and not interrupt. Draco did what he could to help get everything ready, but mostly he seemed to stand in doorways, watching everyone else help and dreading the next few hours.

Draco saw the moment his parents arrived at the house, apparently apparating in the village and walking up. There was a look of distaste on both of their faces when they saw the house, which made a curl of anger rise up in Draco’s stomach that surprised him before he realized that it was because he had really grown to like the Weasleys, all of them even, over the past few hours.

Mrs. Weasley bustled out to meet them first, the others following a little behind. They barely glanced at her before locking eyes on Draco, standing just behind her and holding hands with Ron. Lucius’s eyes darted down to their entwined hands before returning to his face, lip curling up nastily.

“Father,” Draco said stiffly, then a little more fondly, “Mother.”

“Draco,” Lucius said after a painful pause.

Narcissa seemed on the edge of rolling her eyes and she stepped forward, brushing a light kiss on Draco’s forehead. “Draco, dear,” she said, sounding only a little stiff, “how are you?”

Draco smiled a little, though it waned under the force of his father’s glare. “I’m fine, Mother, thank you,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve met everyone, but please let me introduce Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, and, of course my boyfriend, Ron Weasley.”

Ron blushed at that, and Mrs. Weasley tittered a little, but they all politely extended their hands. It was obvious that Lucius was reluctant to shake their hands, but politeness required it. Narcissa was a little more willing, but she definitely did not look comfortable.

“Dinner now, I think,” Mrs. Weasley said, clapping her hands and diffusing a little of the tension that had built during the awkward introductions.

They followed her inside, sitting in the chairs she indicated. Draco sat on one end of the table, Ron on the other, while their parents sat on the other sides. Draco didn’t like being so separated from Ron, but he understood that this was more of a negotiation than anything else.

Dinner was delicious of course, but increasingly awkward as they made stilted, passive-aggressive conversation. It was difficult for Draco to talk to Ron across the table as well, which made him a little agitated. The atmosphere was not a comfortable one by any means.

As dinner wound down, Draco felt himself almost twitching with expectation and anxiety. The others were obviously ready to get started, though it was harder to tell with Lucius and Narcissa.

“Let’s move this to the living room for talking,” Mrs. Weasley said, motioning for everyone to get up.

They all made their way to the living room, Lucius and Narcissa on one couch with Draco in a chair next to them and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on the facing couch with Ron in a chair next to them. Draco was still uncomfortable with the divide, but he understood that it was necessary for the discussion.

It was rather silent as they settled into their seats, no one really knowing how to start the negotiation seeing as courting hadn’t been a common practice for several decades at least. Finally Lucius cleared his throat, the corner of his mouth turned down with anger or unhappiness, Draco couldn’t really tell.

“I believe the first topic that needs to be covered is whether today marks the end of the courting period or the beginning of the engagement,” he said stiffly, studiously not looking at either Draco or Ron. “I think it goes without saying that the first option is the best course of action.”

Draco wanted to reply to that, but Mr. Weasley beat him to it, letting out a small snort of laughter. “Don’t you think the boys should have some say in that decision?”

“This is more of a discussion for adults, not children,” Lucius sneared, lip curling up in distaste.

“We’re not children!” Ron snapped, and Draco had to hold back a smile at how offended he sounded.

Lucius glanced over at Ron before returning his gaze to the older Weasleys, obviously deciding such an outburst didn’t deserve a reply. “Narcissa and I are in agreement that this farce should come to an end as soon as possible,” he said.

Narcissa shifted a little, apparently not in as much agreement with her husband as he would make it seem. “It would not behoove our son to marry in… such a way. And if he agrees to end the courtship, he would of course be welcomed back into the family,” he continued, moving his gaze to Draco.

It was a challenging look, as if daring Draco to remain disinherited and estranged by pushing for an engagement. Something cold and angry and belligerent rose up in Draco, a feeling which he never would have entertained before spending so much time in the company of Gryffindors. His choice was easy to see, and he knew Ron was in agreement.

“Ron and I wish to be engaged no matter what you believe of our relationship or of me,” Draco said, hoping his voice came out strong and sure. “There is really little else to discuss.”

Narcissa gaped at him in surprise, a look he’d never seen on her before. “You… love him?” she asked quietly.

He nodded, smiling fondly as he glanced at his boyfriend. “I do,” he replied just as softly.

She nodded in return, straightening in her chair. “Then I will support you,” she said, avoiding the incredulous look on her husband’s face. “And I will sponsor you financially if Lucius continues to cut you off.”

This time it was Draco’s turn to gape, and he knew he wasn’t the only one. “Really?” he asked.

Narcissa’s face softened and she took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re my son and I love you,” she said. “I want you to be happy and if marriage to a Weasley is what does it…” She shrugged. “Then so be it.”

“What?” Lucius snarled, turning to face his wife headon. “You cannot-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Narcissa interrupted cooly. “I have a separate bank account and more than enough gold to make sure my son is happy and cared for.”

“If you do this,” Lucius said, voice going low and dangerous, “you will no longer be welcomed in Malfoy Manor. You will lose your status as my wife!”

Narcissa gasped a little, but held strong. “I will do what I must.” She turned back Draco, smiling at him a little. “We will go to the house in London for Christmas break, I think. From there we can work everything else out.” She looked over at the Weasleys, who all had awestruck, wary looks on their faces. “As long as you are in agreement to the engagement, of course.”

Mrs. Weasley immediately brightened, nodding her head. “Of course we are!” she said, smiling widely as she looked over at her son. “I think they’re quite good for one another.”

Lucius stood suddenly from his seat, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “There will be consequences for this!” he spat, face contorted in fury.

Draco winced, thinking of the Dark Lord, but a look from Ron had him relaxing a little. They were going to work it out, they had to. “You are the one making this so difficult, father,” he said mildly.

“You-” Lucius said, taking a threatening step forward, stopping only when Narcissa pulled out her wand out and pointed it at him. He shook his head, lip curling up. “Do as you wish, I won’t try to make you see sense anymore.”

With that, he turned and was out the door, robe swirling out behind him. The others stared after him for a moment before the room seemed to let out a collective breath of relief.

“Well,” Narcissa said, giving a small smile when everyone looked at her, “I think it’s time I got to know my soon-to-be son-in-law and his family.”

Mrs. Weasley laughed and immediately rose to offer dessert and drinks, which Narcissa accepted, following her into the kitchen. Potter, Granger, and the younger Weasley came in a moment later.

It was obvious that they’d been lurking outside the door, listening in, but Draco found he didn’t mind too much. Especially when Potter whispered to him that he’d talked to Snape about what to do about the mission. Draco felt like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders when Ron smiled at him, admitting he’d already been trying to work things out.

Draco looked around the room where everyone was happy and talking amiably, even his mother and Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, and at Ron, who he’d come to love in just a month after years of hate and bitterness, and he knew that somehow, everything would be ok.