Archive of Our Own ^beta

You’ve got to be kidding me, Ron thought as he stared at the person behind the till, grey eyes staring back at him.

“Malfoy?” he uttered, the second syllable high and unsure.

The man behind the till just stared at him blankly.

Ron woke up early that day.

It was one of his rare days off, and he’d planned to sleep in, but to his dismay, he was wide awake at 7:43. It wasn’t that ‘I’m-so-tired-but-I-can’t-go-back-to-sleep’ kind of wide awake, but the ‘what-a-good-sleep-I-feel-so-refresh-let’s-go-out-and-seized-the-day’ kind of awake.

Might as well, he thought as he got up and headed for the bathroom.

Percy was in there trying to perfect his hair, and he gave Ron an incredulous look.

“Isn’t today your day off?”

Ron shrugged and pushed his way to the sink to wash his face. Percy frowned when the water splashed on his shirt and walked out. After brushing his teeth, Ron went downstairs to find Percy had already left. His parents were away on a trip. Not feeling like making breakfast, he decided to take a look at the Muggle side of London for something new.

Throwing on his jeans and shirt, he grabbed his coat from the hanger by the door before heading out. The crisp morning air made him smile, and he buried his hands in his pockets as he strode along the cobblestone street, looking left and right like a tourist.

In a way he was.

Growing up, his family didn’t have much, and his mother didn’t have time to waste looking around Muggle shops. Shopping was always an event for them and only done when absolutely necessary. He’d only started to venture out during recent years with Hermione and Harry as his guides. Now, one of his favourite things to do on his day off was to wander aimlessly, venturing through the streets and alleyways of the London he never knew. He’d also started to exchange more and more Muggle currency. Whenever he decided to bring something home, his father would be ecstatic and take it away from him for days. Ron didn’t mind, though, since he always made it up with a trip to Florean Fortescue’s and, truthfully, Ron bought those things knowing they would make his father happy.

His stomach started growling, so he looked around and found a quaint yellow café tucked between an antique shop and a bookstore, just a couple of streets down from Diagon Alley.

The tinkling of the bell greeted him when he opened the door, and a waiter came to lead him to the table. He walked past a group of girls crowded around the cashier paying their tabs.

“Thank you for your patronage.”

The person behind the till spoke, and it took him a couple of seconds for Ron to feel something nagging at the back of his mind. Like he’d forgotten something. He turned back toward the sound and had to do a double take.

He blinked once, twice, but the image didn’t change. There behind the counter was undoubtedly Draco Malfoy.

The Draco Malfoy.

He would recognize that ferret anywhere.

Ron frowned.

He should have known. Waking up early on a day off was never a good thing.

“Sir?”

Ron snapped out of his staring contest with the man behind the till to look at the waiter, who was waiting patiently. He gave ‘Draco Malfoy’ another look before following. It was a small shop, able to seat maybe fifteen people at most, so no matter what he sat, he could still see the till. The blond cashier didn’t spare him a glance, and Ron began to doubt himself.

If that was really Draco Malfoy, then there was no way he would be that calm once he saw Ron. Also, the Draco Malfoy Ron knew wouldn’t be caught dead in a Muggle café, much less work there.

“Here’s your menu, sir.”

The same waiter blocked his view and placed the menu on the table. Startled, Ron flipped it open and pointed to the most basic thing.

“One hot cappuccino. Anything else?”

Ron shook his head no.

The waiter took back the menu and gave him a long look. “Just give up. Dray doesn’t date, and he’s harsh with his suitors.” The voice was soft and the smile was friendly, but Ron could feel the warning from the words, for what he didn’t know.

The coffee was good, Ron concluded as he stared at the cup in wonder after taking a sip. Better than the shops in Diagon Alley. In fact, it was so good that he forgot about the Malfoy look-alike for a moment.

The bell above the door tinkled, and a lady walked into the shop.

“Good morning, Mrs. Mills,” The Malfoy look-alike greeted her.

“Good morning, dear.” The lady smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling.

“This way, ma’am.”

The waiter led her to a table beside the window. She turned to look at Ron and smiled. He blushed, realising his rudeness, and nodded to her as an apology, resuming drinking his coffee to hide his embarrassment.

Ron’s eyes kept twitching as he observed the blond flitting around the shop taking orders here, serving there, all the while keeping a polite tone and neutral face.

This was ridiculous.

That snobbish face, that haughty voice, even the proud way he held himself — everything reminded Ron of that slimy git Malfoy. Except Malfoy would never do all the things this man was doing. Also, what did that waiter call him? Dray? Was that a nickname? Malfoy would never let someone disrespect him like that, especially not a Muggle.

By midday, Ron’s head was throbbing from all the frowning, and his stomach was rumbling. The café had a small selection of food options, but he didn’t feel like eating there. His mind had already suffered enough. He walked to the till and pulled out his wallet. He told the Malfoy look-alike the table number and handed him the Muggle bill. The blond handed him back his change, all the while never uttering a single word.

“Malfoy?” Ron tried again, this time more confident, because who else could the man be.

Grey eyes looked back at him. The silence made his confidence waver. Ron frowned, his head throbbing, and exited the shop in annoyance. He hastily headed towards the red phone booth, intending to go tell Harry about this.

His finger paused as he was about to press the second 4, and he hung up the receiver. He walked out of the booth and heaved a sigh.

What was he going to say? Hey Harry, guess who I saw today? It’s Malfoy — well not really, because he looks like Malfoy, but he didn’t act like Malfoy, so maybe it’s not him, I’m not sure. Then what? It wasn’t against the law for a wizard to work in a Muggle establishment, and from what he saw today, Ron had to admit — albeit begrudgingly — that Malfoy was doing a fine job. He was polite and remembered the customers’ names, and everyone seemed to like him. Harry would look at Ron like he was crazy and tell him to go eat something.

Ron’s stomach grumbled.

Yes, he should go get something to eat. Maybe then his head would clear up a bit.

The next day Ron got told off by his superior because he let his mind wander while trying to detain a criminal, resulting in a broom chase around Knockturn Alley. In Ron’s defence, there was a bright yellow shop around the corner, and it made him think of a certain blond. After nearly an hour long reprimanding, he was told to clock out for the day.

Feeling wronged, Ron marched to the café, intending to give the ferret a piece of his mind. He opened the door harder than he’d intended, and he hastily grabbed the handle before it could smash into the wall. The moment of bewilderment stalled his anger, so that when ‘Malfoy’ came to stand before him, he was able to stop himself from sneering. Ron looked around the shop as he followed ‘Malfoy’ to his table. He didn’t see the other waiter anywhere.

A menu was placed in front of him, but he didn’t look at it. Seeing the blond look down his nose at him made unsavoury memories from their time in Hogwarts come back anew. The git still sported the same slicked back hairstyle as he had way back then.

Ron narrowed his eyes. No way this man could be anyone other than Draco Malfoy. Did the bastard think Ron was too stupid to recognize him?

“Malfoy.” Ron’s voice came out curt and like he wanted to pick a fight. Maybe he did, and the one who started it was definitely not him. “Malfoy,” Ron said again, louder, but the blond still kept quiet as he frowned at Ron. “Malfoy,” Ron said for the third time. The blond’s hand holding the pen against his notepad shook, and Ron's determination grew. “Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy, Mal-”

“Will you quit it?” A harsh whisper made its way through gritted teeth, and Ron smiled in triumph.

“Oh, so you do know how to speak.” Ron rested his head on his hand and smirked at Malfoy. “Thought I got the wrong person for a moment there.”

“You still do. Now order so I can go.”

“Why do you insist on keeping up this façade of not knowing who I am?”

This was getting ridiculous. No one could look and act so alike — there was no other explanation than that this was The Draco Malfoy. Ron knew Malfoy knew he knew, so why did he keep insisting on ignoring him?

“Because I don’t.”

A simple answer accompanied with a flat look. It made Ron want to rip out his hair. No, he should rip out Malfoy’s hair instead for making his blood pressure skyrocket the past two days.

A huff came from above his head, and Ron glared at the offending grey eyes. Malfoy raised his pen and notepad.

“Are you going to order, or do you need more time, sir?”

Ron’s eye twitched. He was sure had Malfoy said the last word just to mock him, but his headache was coming back, and he couldn’t be bothered with this absurd exchange anymore.

“Fine! Be that way. Keep playing your little game for all I care!”

Malfoy clicked his tongue at the statement, and it took all of Ron’s effort not to punch him in the face.

“If you’re not Draco Malfoy, then what, pray tell, is your name?” Ron said through clenched teeth. Ten minutes ago, he would have been happy with how Malfoy flinched at the question and let it go. Now the gleeful feeling was tainted with malice, and Ron pounced on the little crack and dig. His smile came out crooked, and his voice became sickly sweet. “What is your name?”

“I don’t have any obligation to answer your question.”

“Don’t have to or you can’t? Malfoy.”

Malfoy became silent again, but Ron didn’t mind now. It was such a beautiful ‘gotcha’ moment that he was already planning his story to Harry and Hermione.

The moment was short-lived when a dark look appeared on Malfoy’s face. Ron was taken aback. A picture of Malfoy in his Death Eater days flashed through Ron’s mind, and he felt a cold sweat run down his back. Malfoy was angry, and not the kind of tantrum he’d thrown during school, but the calm and cold kind that could kill you. Ron discreetly reached for his wand inside his coat and glanced at the other occupied table by the entrance, planning his escape route and how to help the unaware Muggles.

“Malford.”

It took Ron a couple of seconds to comprehend what Malfoy had said. He blinked, and when he saw that Malfoy had made no move to take out his wand, Ron slowly relaxed, but still kept his hand where it was.

“What?”

“My name.”

Ron looked at Malfoy incredulously and let go of his wand to massage his temple. “So you mean to say that your name is Malford? Dray Malford?”

“Got a problem?” Malford narrowed his eyes at him. Ron would have laughed at the name if the situation wasn't so ridiculous.

He heaved a huge sigh and pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes. “No. No, I don’t. Please get me a cappuccino, Dray Malford.”

He was so tired.

Malfoy came back with Ron’s coffee, spilling some on the table when he put it down. Ron glared at him, and Malfoy shrugged before walking away.

Ron went back the next day after work. Malfoy led him to his table and Ron pointed to the cappuccino on the menu. Malfoy spilled his coffee, a glare and a shrug was exchanged, and that was the end of their interaction. Ron sipped his coffee, glaring at Malfoy, who was adamant to ignore him. Ron placed a ten pound note on the table, more than enough for the coffee, and left without saying a word.

“You know that’s not how you court someone.”

Ron gave the waiter a befuddled look.

“What?”

“Aren’t you like, you know…pursuing Dray? Romancing him?”

“What, no! That’s gross. Me and Malfo-ord? No, nu-uh, not gonna happen, never!”

Ron’s voice was getting louder, so the waiter quieted him down so as not to disturb the other customers.

“Alright, alright, you’re not courting him, I get it. It’s just you’ve been coming here four days in a row now, and you always look at him, so I thought that was the case.”

“He just looks like someone I know,” Ron huffed, still miffed at everything that was going on.

The waiter snorted. “That pick-up line is so out of date, mate.”

The question bothered Ron so much that when Malfoy spilled his coffee again that day, he snapped.

“What’s your problem? I’m a paying customer here. Why can’t you serve it nicely? You’ve been nothing but nasty to me all this time, and I’m sick of it!”

Malfoy stared at him calmly, not even a bit rattled by the outburst.

“If you’re that miserable, why keep coming back?”

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but the words stuck in his throat. His eyes widened when he realised that he had no answer to the question. Malfoy didn’t spare him another second and walked away, leaving Ron desperately grasping for…something.

Why did he keep coming back? Just so he could get Malfoy to admit that he was, indeed, Draco Malfoy? Was it that important? They haven’t seen each other since school, and that was, what — one, two years ago? What was the point of it now?

Ron didn’t go to the café the next day.

Or the next.

Or the next.

“What’s gotten into you lately?”

Ron and Ginny were at a restaurant in Diagon Alley because she had been pestering him all morning to take her out for lunch.

Miraculously, he had gotten paid leave that Sunday, which he knew was because he had been so irritable recently that it was starting to affect his work. His wonderful friend and Department Head had decided to get Ron’s pesky self out of their hair and have his sister take care of the problem.

“Nothing.”

“Oh, don’t ‘nothing’ me. You’ve been moping so much, the house is turning gloomy. Even George said so.”

Ron pouted and turned away, but Ginny wasn’t having it.

“Do you want to involve Mum? She’s been asking. We keep saying we’ll take care of it, but you know things will get messy if she decides enough is enough.”

Ron turned back to look at her, his frown and pout deepening like a child about to have a fit.

“Don’t you use Mum against me. I’m your older brother, don't treat me like a kid.” He crossed his arms over his chest, completing the picture, and Ginny burst out laughing.

“Then don’t act so childish,” she said wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. “But seriously, what happened? I’m asking because I haven’t seen you this way since…” She avoided his eyes.

Ron sighed, “I told you I’m over it. Why does everyone make it seem like I’m the emotional one?” He rolled his eyes and in the end decided to vent.

“You see, I met this bloke, and he looks like someone I know — like, everything about him is the same, even his voice, but when I insist I know him, he just rejects the idea. I don’t understand why he’s so set on keeping up this act. He treats me so bad when I see him, and it just…I should be the one who’s mad, not him, alright? Like, he treats everyone so good, but when it’s me he just…ugh! It’s so frustrating. What did I even do to him?”

The more he talked, the angrier he got, and he threw up his hands in frustration.

“Maybe he has his reason to pretend not to know you?”

“Like what?”

“Beats me.” Ginny shrugged. “I take it you met him during work?”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, he works in this Muggle café around here.”

Ginny pondered for a bit and let out a mischievous grin. Ron knew that grin too well, and most of the time it made his stomach twist with dread, but this time…this time he was excited.

“What?” His voice was lighter as he imagined all the havoc his sister was going to cause Malfoy.

“I don’t know about you, but if it was me, I’d go along with what he wants.”

Ron raised his eyebrows.

Ginny added, “If he’s not your friend, then he’s a stranger. A stranger whose job is to serve you.”

“You don’t mean…,” Ron frowned and Ginny’s eyes twinkled.

“Well, he’s a waiter, isn’t he? Then treat him like one. If he’s rude, then complain, and if that doesn’t work, ask for his manager.”

Ron’s eyes widened. The image of Malfoy getting reprimanded by a Muggle superior was just too surreal; it made the smile vanish from his face.

Ron took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The bell tinkled merrily, and the blond man behind the till took one look at him and let out an exasperated sigh. Ron’s eye twitched. At least the other waiter was happy to see him, judging by the smile and wave.

“Dray,” the waiter shouted, “I’m going into the kitchen, you take him.” He gave Ron a wink, and Malfoy shot him an evil glare.

Malfoy grumbled all the way to Ron’s table and threw down the menu. At first, Ron was reluctant to follow through on Ginny’s suggestion, but now not so much. He didn’t spare the menu a second glance before leaning back in his chair.

“What’s today’s special?”

The question seemed to take Malfoy by surprise, and he stood there blinking stupidly for a couple of seconds. Ron bit his cheeks to prevent himself from grinning at what he was about to do next.

He snapped his finger in Malfoy’s face and said in his most snobbish voice, “Oi, didn’t you hear me? I asked what’s today’s special, or you don’t have that here?”

That terrifying look was back, but after days of observation, Ron knew Malfoy wouldn’t do anything. Somehow, he took his waiter job very seriously.

“Smoked duck breast sandwich and mushroom soup.”

“Are there tomatoes on the sandwich?”

“Yes.”

“Can you put in something else? I don’t like tomatoes.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know that. Go ask the chef.”

Malfoy was gripping his pen so hard it was on the verge of breaking in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot from the intense glaring. Ron looked up from examining his nails and made a show of looking surprised.

“Why are you still here? Go on, ask the chef.” Feeling high on adrenaline, Ron made the bold decision of making a shooing motion. Oh, the look in Malfoy’s eyes. If he could have bitten off his fingers, Ron would have already lost a hand.

Malfoy huffed and stomped towards the kitchen. Ron pushed his fist against his mouth to keep himself from laughing. He quickly schooled his face back to normal when he heard the door open.

“She said she can put in extra meat instead of tomatoes.” Malfoy had a sour look on his face and wouldn’t meet Ron’s eyes.

“Oh, how nice of her, but I don’t feel like eating anymore. Just get me the usual cappuccino.”

Malfoy gave him an incredulous look before he turned away.

“I didn’t say I was finished.”

Ron’s words stopped Malfoy in his tracks. He appeared to be taking a couple of deep breaths before turning to face him again.

“What else do you need, sir?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Ron pretended to think, looking left, then right, then up, then left again. Malfoy was practically vibrating. Figuring he’d taken it far enough, Ron smiled, “Nah, I think I’ll just have that.”

Malfoy spun on his heels and slammed the kitchen door. He came back with the coffee and slapped it on the table, spilling more than normal.

“It spilled.”

“And?”

Ron can see Malfoy’s blood vessels bulging up around his temple. He smiles inwardly, thinking how nice it is to be the one causing the headache for a change.

“Aren’t you gonna clean it up?”

The look on Malfoy’s face after hearing that statement was as if to say ‘To hell with Azkaban’; His teeth gritted together so hard it took Ron some difficulty to make out what he said. “Now listen to me you littl -”

“Do I have to call your manager?”

That shut Malfoy right up. With a look that could kill, he took out a washcloth from his apron and wiped the table. He looked like he was going to slam the cup back down, but after one smile from Ron, he stopped and set it down gently, the saucer vibrating from his hard grip. He went back to the till without another word and never once looked Ron’s way again, but that was alright.

Ron took a huge whiff of the coffee’s aroma and sipped it gingerly.

Ah, this had to be the best coffee he’d ever had in his life.

After that day, Ron became a frequent customer of the café. He didn’t go every day, but maybe three or four times throughout the week, usually for lunch or a quick cup of coffee before work.

He’d finally learned the name of the other waiter. He was a tall, lean guy with brown hair in a side part, and his happy-go-lucky attitude made him easy to talk to.

“Eric,” he’d said as he shook Ron’s hand on the day he’d used his authority on Malfoy for the first time. Eric had come up to him, clapping him on the back and congratulating him on finally growing a backbone.

“That was great. I don’t think I have ever seen Dray that angry before, but tone it down, alright? My mother is quite fond of him, and she might burn your coffee next time if you make Dray too upset.”

Ron found out that Eric was the chef’s son, and apart from him and Malfoy, there was only one other staff member, whose work was buying groceries and restocking.

Ron became more comfortable around Malfoy once he knew he could push him around. Every time Malfoy made a snarky comment, Ron would give him a long look and a smirk, which would usually shut him up. Eric loved it when Dray got mad and would join in the teasing from time to time. Malfoy would sulk behind the till whenever they tag teamed him.

“Hey, Ron,” Eric piped up as he placed Ron’s sandwich on the table. Ron quirked his eyebrows, mouth stuffed full of bread, meat, and vegetables. He’d learned a while ago that not only was the coffee good, but the food there was awesome as well.

“I saw you walking with a girl yesterday. Is she your girlfriend?”

Ron blinked and swallowed his food. “I think you saw me with my sister. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Eric’s face lit up. “Oh, would you mind introducing me? She’s cute.”

“She has a boyfriend,” Ron replied flatly, “who also happens to be my best friend.”

“Oh,” Eric squeaked. “Sorry, forget I said anything.” He quickly walked to the kitchen.

Ron chuckled and reached for the coffee when a voice stopped him.

“You broke up with Granger?”

Malfoy was looking at him curiously from behind the till, brows furrowed and head tilted a little to the side. It had to be the light streaming through the window beside him, because Ron suddenly found Malfoy to be quite adorable.

“Yeah, we have different views about our future, so it’s for the best.” He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a sip. “But I don’t remember telling you my ex’s name is Granger, Malford.”

He smiled around the rim of his cup when he saw Malfoy tense up.

“You look like someone who’d have a girlfriend named Granger.” Malfoy shrugged.

Ron laughed.

“Are you sure you’re going back tomorrow? You’ve only been here a short while. Why not stay for a few more days? There’s still so much I need to tell you.”

“A month is not a ‘short while’ Charlie, and I’ve got all the information I need,” Ron said. “Also, if I stayed any longer, Harry would have my head.”

Charlie pouted. “He’s your best friend. He could cover for you for a couple of days.”

“And he already did. I should have been back a week ago, but he told me to spend some time with you since you haven't come home for a while now. Mum’s been complaining.”

“I know, she already fire-called me. Said if I missed Christmas again, she would personally come to get me.”

Ron shuddered, “you better be back this year, for our sake and yours.”

Charlie laughed. “Will do.” He put his arms around Ron’s shoulders. “You know I miss you guys too much to be away for long. That’s why I want you to stay longer. It feels like we haven’t caught up enough. Come to my room tonight, I’ve got this nice 30-year fire whiskey we could drink while we talk before you leave tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.”

The familiar sound of tinkling bells greeted Ron as he pushed open the door of the yellow café. He saw Eric’s eyes lit up as he bounced over to Ron and led him to his table. Ron ordered his usual cappuccino and today’s special, and Eric brought it to him a few minutes later. By then, Malfoy had finished checking out a customer and was taking orders from a new one. Malfoy headed over and looked down his nose at Ron.

“You’re still alive, I see.”

After months of it, Ron was already immune to Malfoy’s jab. He laid his head on his hand and looked up, smirking. “Don’t sound so disappointed, I might think you don’t like me.”

“After you disappeared for three days, Dray kept looking at the door whenever someone walked in,” Eric fake whispered to Ron, earning him a dirty look from Malfoy.

Eric quickly threw his arms around Malfoy’s shoulder to placate him. Eric gave Ron an exaggerated wink from behind Malfoy’s head thinking he was in the clear. Malfoy, knowing his co-worker, gave him a good jab in the stomach with his elbow.

Ron watched the scene with many feelings. Would Eric ever really know how tolerant Malfoy was being with him? Hugging and teasing a Malfoy like that…Two years ago, it would have been impossible. With how grim the situation had been, Malfoy would have sneered at Eric and hexed the shit out of the impudent Muggle that dared touch him.

Now, the most he could do was a sharp elbow jab and a mildly irritated look.

Ron smiled.

It lightened up his memories of the blond boy in that cold dark manor. The boy who’d looked so afraid and unsure, but still insisted to be as vicious as he could be for his family.

At first, Ron was angry, but after he’d entered the Ministry as an Auror, he’d encountered many cases that had made him question his morals and views of the world. How good people can do bad things for the sake of loved ones. He’d asked himself many times if he would have done what Malfoy did if he was put in a similar circumstance.

He couldn’t really answer, because of course he’d had the privilege of having parents on the light side. But Malfoy hadn’t. Abraxas Malfoy had chosen the Dark arts, and in doing so had forced his whole family to walk down the same path. Voldemort would have killed them all if one of them had rebelled. Malfoy had tried to help them out in his own way when they were caught, hadn’t he?

It might have been late, but Ron was happy to see that Malfoy could live a somewhat normal life now with a friend that liked him for who he was and not his family name. Even though Ron doubted Malfoy would ever admit Eric was his friend.

“Here.” Ron pushed two boxes on the table in front of them.

Eric quirked his eyebrows. “What’s this?” He picked up one of the boxes.

“I went to Romania to visit my brother for some work-related problems. These are your souvenirs. I just picked up some random things when I got the chance to go into town, so don’t expect much.”

“So that’s where you went. Nah, mate, just that you thought to get something for us is already nice.” Eric opened his box excitedly and pulled out a snow globe. Inside was a dragon curled up on the ground, sleeping as snow fell around it.

“Cool! Thanks, mate,” Eric said as he shook the globe, happily gazing at the dragon inside. “It looks so real. I think it’s breathing.”

“That’s your imagination,” Malfoy quickly said and shooed Eric away to get the food for a waiting table.

With Eric out of earshot, Malfoy gave Ron a hard look. Ron shrugged.

“The most it’s gonna do is open its eyes. I asked, it’s nothing to worry about.”

As if not believing Ron’s word, Malfoy opened his own box and pulled out an identical snow globe. The dragon inside lay in the same position, but its eyes were open and staring back at Malfoy. He shook it a couple more times, and seeing the dragon didn’t move from its spot on the ground, he placed it back in the box. Ron tucked in to his croque monsieur and let out a satisfied moan.

“Thanks.”

Ron’s eyes shot open, but Eric was already taking orders elsewhere, and Malfoy was back behind the till. He shook his head and chalked it up to his imagination.

“So what’s your father getting you for your birthday tomorrow?”

Malfoy looked up from wiping the table. He tilted his head. “You know my birthday?”

Ron scoffed. “Hard not to when there was always a spectacle in the Great Hall every year. How many owls did your father send? Ten? Twenty? The Slytherin table always gloated at us behind the mountain of presents and candy.” He said it in a teasing manner, thinking Malfoy would pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about again, but Malfoy went quiet, and Ron slowly lowered his coffee cup.

“Nothing.”

“What?” Ron said.

“We haven’t talked for a while now.”

Before Ron could ask what he meant, Malfoy disappeared into the kitchen. Frowning, he waved Eric over. What had made Malfoy upset enough to forget to pretend they don’t know each other?

“You need something?”

“Hey, how did Malford come to work here? When did he start?”

Ron felt like kicking himself. These were important questions, and he’d only thought to ask them after four months. In his defence, he hadn’t wanted to be a nosy guy, and he’d wanted to give Malfoy the courtesy of not prying into his life. But now he was very curious, so courtesy be damned.

A serious look came over Eric’s face, and he gave Ron a long, calculating stare. Ron sat up straighter, trying to make himself seem trustworthy. After constantly coming here, he could see that Eric was very protective of Malfoy. He might look friendly, but when it came to Malfoy, he was ready to fight anyone.

There was someone who was willing to fight for Draco Malfoy. The realisation made Ron happy.

Eric let out a huge breath and pulled out the chair opposite him.

“It was about four or five months before you started coming by. He just walked in asking about the hiring notice we’d put out front. Our previous waitress had transferred her credits to another college, and so had to move. At first, we don’t want to hire him because he was rude. Very rude.” Ron laughed. Eric smirked. “But his eyes were all red and puffy, and he had this huge bruise on his face, and Mum is weak for pitiful children, so she decided to give him a chance.”

“His face was bruised?” Ron frowned heavily, a bitter taste in his mouth. Was it Lucius? Was that why Malfoy had that sad look on his face?

“Yeah.” Eric looked angry as well. “He was weird — well, weirder than now. Kept looking around as if he was seeing everything for the first time.” He gestured around the shop. “Like he had no idea how to work any of the machines. He said the weirdest things, too. Kept asking about spells and runes, so Mum and I assumed he had to be some rich sheltered kid with wild imaginations that had run away from an abusive home.”

Eric looked at Ron as if waiting for him to confirm, and Ron shrugged. Eric scratched his head in annoyance.

“Well, it took some time, but he’s good now. Plus, his looks bring in customers. Some like his bad attitude and take it as a challenge, but he makes it clear he’s not looking for a relationship. Though some people can’t take no for an answer.” Eric’s voice turned dark, and Ron was taken aback.

“Did anyone…”

“I took care of all of them.” Eric’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, but Ron felt reassured by the malicious gleam in them. “Despite his rudeness, Dray’s afraid to do anything that he thinks might create problems for us, so he lets those people walk all over him. I tell you, he concerns himself with the most ridiculous things.”

“That’s because he cares about you.”

Ron blinked as the words came out on their own. He had realised a long time ago that despite being an insufferable git to everyone, Malfoy could tolerate a lot for those he cared about.

Eric’s speech hitched, and he waved off Ron’s comment. “A-anyway, that’s why I was warning you at first, but seeing how he acted toward you, I was relieved. He always has this aloof air about him, like he doesn’t want people to pay attention to him. Mum and I tried to include him in things, but he kept his distance. Then you showed up!”

“Me?” Ron pointed to himself.

“Yeah. If you haven’t noticed, he’s very responsive to you. Before you came, he rarely displayed any intense emotions, but now he constantly gets mad and is very sarcastic. It’s good.”

Ron’s eye twitched. He didn’t know that that was as good as Eric seemed to think, but whatever, he’d take it.

“Dray is a good guy, and I don’t know why he wants to pretend not to know you, but I’m not gonna pry. He’ll tell me when he feels like it. If not, then that’s alright too.” Eric shrugged, getting up when the bells on the front door tinkled.

By the time Ron finished his meal, Malfoy was back behind the till. He avoided Ron’s eyes as he came up to pay his tab, and Ron contemplated his next words carefully. He’d been thinking it over many times while he ate and had deemed it appropriate enough. It wasn’t like he had anything special going on tomorrow.

“What time do you finish work tomorrow?”

Malfoy paused in counting out the pounds and blinked at Ron. “The store closes at 8 pm,” he answered, slowly laying the stack of notes on the change tray.

“Doing anything after?” Ron collected the change into his wallet.

“Not really.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 8:20, then.”

“What!?”

Ron gave Malfoy a short wave over his shoulder and exited the shop.

Ron panted as he sprinted towards the alley where the yellow café stood. He cursed Harry under his breath. Of all the days he could have asked Ron for a drink after work, it had to be today. What was he supposed to say? Yeah, no, I kinda already have dinner plans with Malfoy. You know, Draco Malfoy. That annoying ferret that used to torment us in school? Yeah, that guy.

Oh, the look he would have gotten.

What if Harry had thought Ron was pulling his leg and wanted to come along? Just imagine. Ron would rather face an Acromantula than sit through that dinner.

Also, he found he kind of wanted it to be only the two of them. To avoid the awkwardness, obviously.

So he’d had to come up with a random excuse and give Harry the slip.

Ron turned the corner and glanced at his watch. It was already 8:30 pm. His steps faltered. Malfoy had always been a very punctual person, and he’d probably hate someone being late.

Ron arrived in front of the café and sighed. The lights were off, and the door was locked. He stared at the closed shop for a while, until a voice came from behind him.

“Was that your plan? To make me keep an eye on you while you stared at the shop after it had closed?”

Ron whirled around to see Malfoy leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and looking at him in annoyance.

Malfoy was still there. Waiting for him. Ron beamed at the thought, his disappointment vanishing into thin air.

“Stop that.” Malfoy's scowl deepened.

“Stop what?”

“Whatever you’re doing with your face right now. It’s disgusting.”

Ron’s smile morphed into an exasperated look. Give it to Malfoy to spoil his good mood. Well, since he was in the wrong today, he wasn’t about to get mad.

“There, it’s gone. Happy?”

Malfoy clicked his tongue, and Ron quickly jumped to lead the way before the night could get ruined. They walked along the streets, turning here and there. As they entered a narrow, dark alley, Malfoy finally said something.

“Are you taking me somewhere they won’t find my body?”

Ron’s mouth twitched. “Obviously.”

Malfoy became quiet for a bit. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

Ron chuckled breathily, and before he could say anything, the path opened up to a warmly-lit square.

Malfoy looked at the place in awe. Tall buildings lined up back to back, leaving a space big enough for a small open-air restaurant, accessible only by the narrow alley. The place was small, yet lively, lit by fairy lights and candles.

The smell of bread and meat hit Ron’s nostrils, and his mouth watered.

A waiter came to lead them to the table Ron had reserved. Malfoy glanced at Ron, seemingly surprised that he’d planned the evening beforehand.

“I know this isn’t what you’re normally used to, but the pizza here is to die for. I highly recommend the pepperoni, but the cheese and mushroom is good too.” Ron read out things he likes on the menu, completely missing Malfoy staring at him, grey eyes turning a soft amber under the candlelight.

“So what do you want?” Ron looked up from the menu expectantly.

Malfoy thought for a bit. “I’ll take your word on the pepperoni.”

“Great choice!” Ron grinned, again not noticing the flush on Malfoy’s face as he glanced away to call the waiter.

The pizza was as good as Ron remembered. The dough was soft and springy, and when he bit into it, the salty flavour of meat and oil burst in his mouth. Malfoy seemed to enjoy it as well. The first piece disappeared in an instant, and before he could even reach for another, Ron had already placed one on his plate with a wink and a knowing smile. Malfoy coughed into his fist.

When the pizza was gone, Ron signaled to the waiter walking by. Malfoy raised his brows, and Ron smiled telling him to wait.

The accordionist performing in the centre of the restaurant got up from his seat and walked towards their table, and their waiter appeared with a cake, a single candle lit on top of it.

The accordionist started playing again, belting out ‘Happy Birthday' in baritone. The waiter placed the cake in front of Malfoy, and he looked dumbly at the candle, then glanced back up at Ron. Ron smiled at him merrily as he sang along with the accordionist.

“Happy birthday to you,” Ron finished. Noticing that Malfoy was still staring at him, he coughed into his fist.

Malfoy’s face coloured. He stared back down at the candle before hastily blowing it out.

Ron walked Malfoy back to the café. He was surprised when Malfoy told him he was staying in the room above the shop. According to him, the two-story building belonged to Eric’s mother. The room had been previously occupied by the waitress who had moved away. Now they were ‘renting’ it out to Malfoy.

Rent as in he only paid for water and electricity and helped to open and close the store. His wage wasn’t low, just enough to comfortably pay for all his utilities and splurge a bit each month. Ron’s view of Eric and his mother raised higher. It was a good thing Malfoy had found them in his time of need.

“Hey Weasley,” Malfoy called out to him as he walked away.

Ron looked back, eyebrows raised in question. Malfoy looked hesitant. Then he cleared his throat.

“Thank you…for tonight.”

Ron’s eyes widened, then crinkled, his smile broad and toothy. “My pleasure.”

He gave Malfoy a small wave and turned around, a light spring in his steps as he walked away.

Draco took off his coat and hung it on the back of the chair. He glanced at the globe on the table and picked it up, shaking it gently and bringing it up to his eyes. The dragon in there looked up at him, its eyes a bright blue, reminding him of Weasley’s.

The light from outside danced across the glass globe, and Draco thought of the fairy lights, how Weasley’s eyes had reflected them, making it seem like the whole night sky was kept in those blue orbs.

He has to admit that tonight is beyond his expectation. When Weasley asked him to dinner, he thought it would be awkward, or even worse, Weasley would bring Potter along. He was quite relieved to see he came alone tonight, but that didn’t mean he’ll let the ginger’s tardiness slide.

Eating and talking about their work and homelife, well, Weasley’s homelife, he found that it’s not so bad, enjoyable in fact. He even laughed at some of the antics his two former nemeses got up to in their workplace.

He walked to the window overlooking the street in front of the shop, the silhouette of the red-haired man long gone. The memory of Weasley singing him happy birthday under the candlelight flashed across his mind. He had to admit, it had been quite cute.

Draco smiled and placed the present down gently.

“Why do you have to be so rude?”

“Because you deserve it.”

Eric lay his chin on his hand as he looked at the two from behind the till. Ron and Dray, bickering back and forth, each sporting an annoyed look on their face.

Pfft.

Who were they trying to fool? Not him, that was for sure.

The moment Ron had walked through that door, Dray’s eyes had lit up, and Eric could see Ron’s had as well. Something had changed between them, and now their mean words towards each other sounded softer and held some sort of fondness.

Like flirting.

Yes, flirting. Those two idiots were flirting in front of him, and it was absolutely disgusting.

“You are so not my favourite person today,” Ron grumbled, and Dray turned away, scowling.

“I’m not your favourite person on any day.”

“That’s not true!” Ron quickly corrected him, and Dray’s steps paused for a brief second before resuming his path to the kitchen.

Eric could see the blond smiling as he walked past. He scrunched up his nose in repulse.

Dray came back with Ron’s usual cappuccino and set the cup down gently. He hadn’t spilled his coffee in a while, claiming it was annoying to have to clean it up every time. Eric side-eyed him then, thinking that his friend was such an awful liar.

He didn’t know what exactly Dray had been through, but he was sure it was nothing good. He didn’t care who he was before, but right now he was Dray Malford, Eric’s friend — and he wanted his friend to be happy, because Dray was a nice guy. Mean, but nice. Like those Rottweilers that looked scary but made you feel all special when they let you hug them.

And now Ron was making Dray happy, so Eric should be happy too.

And he was, alright?

Very much so.

But could they just turn down their flirting for a bit? He just got dumped last week, you know?

Ron bit into the biscuit that came with the coffee and beamed.

Eric looked at his smiling face and sneered.

His shop never served biscuits with coffee.

Ron was surprised that he’d quite enjoyed his dinner with Malfoy.

If he’d told that to himself three years ago, he would have thought he’d gone crazy. Remnants of the Cruciatus Curse, maybe?

Malfoy didn’t talk much about his past, still adamant about keeping up the farce, but opted to talk about his current life. It mostly revolved around Eric and his mother — how they did this and that, and the time he spent with them. Malfoy always had a soft smile when he told those stories, his fondness for Eric and his mother apparent in every word.

Ron didn’t think he had ever seen Malfoy talk like that about anyone, not even his own parents. Whenever he talked about Lucius, it was always with fear and pride. There was some affection when it came to Narcissa, but that too got tainted with fear.

Ron wondered if Malfoy ever talked about him to Eric — and if he did, did it hold the same affection?

They went out to eat often now, so he must have been at least a bit fond of Ron, right?

Whenever Ron came across a nice place that he thought Malfoy might like, he would take him there. Well, more like tell him they were going there without waiting for a reply, but in his defence, Malfoy could always choose not to show up. He could just close shop and go upstairs and ignore Ron entirely, but every time, Malfoy would be waiting out front, scowling at him, whether Ron arrived on time or not.

Tonight he was taking him to a pub. He’d been boasting about how their pasties were so good that even Eric’s mum wouldn’t have been able to make a better one. Malfoy had smirked at his claim, saying he highly doubted it, which Ron had to admit was fair. They’d agreed they’d never met another person who was a better cook than Eric’s mother. That woman could put a five-star chef to shame on any given day.

But this place’s pasties were special, okay? Ron couldn’t wait to see Malfoy’s face when he ate one.

The mood was light, and Ron was just thinking tonight was going to be great, when Malfoy suddenly stopped in his tracks. His face went pale as he stared ahead. Ron frowned and followed his gaze.

A large man dressed in a shirt and slacks was approaching them — normal apparel for Muggles, if not for the shabby robe he was sporting over them. Ron blinked, feeling like he knew the bloke from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place him.

The man stopped in front of them, his beady eyes staring right at Malfoy. His look wasn’t friendly.

“Draco,” the man hissed with a sneer, like he was saying something vile. It made Ron want to hit him.

“Goyle.”

Ron did a double take. This was Goyle? Sure, he could see the resemblance now, but if it was Goyle, then why were the two of them being so defensive? Weren’t they supposed to be friends?

Actually, Ron realised he hadn’t seen Malfoy and Goyle together since the war had ended — not even during that brief period while they were finishing school. Had something happened between them?

The way Malfoy kept avoiding eye contact with him made Ron feel like Malfoy was afraid of Goyle, but that was ridiculous…right?

Goyle looked Malfoy up and down and scoffed. “I’m surprised you still have the nerve to go around smiling,” he said, his grin sharp and full of malice. “How revolting.”

Ron saw Malfoy's hand shake as he took a step back, eyes on the ground. Ron started to get angry and stepped in front of him.

“That’s too far, Goyle! Why are you talking to him like that? Isn’t he your friend?”

Goyle barked out a laugh. The sound made Malfoy curl into himself, and Ron’s heart dropped. He’d never seen Malfoy so small and pitiful before.

“Oh, yes, he was my friend. Our friend. But I don’t think we were his.”

Ron was taken aback. The memory of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle together during their time in Hogwarts went through his mind. He hated to admit that Goyle had a point. Malfoy had never treated them like friends.

.

Goyle frown, his mood sour as Weasley's silence confirmed his words; that he too didn't think that Draco thought of them as a friend.

He was naïve then. They had obeyed their parents' order to make friends with the Malfoy's heir; he and Vincent approached the blond boy during a gathering. At first, Draco ignored them, but after much pestering, he let them walk with him. Being with Draco made the other boys and girls look at them in envy, the prestige of the Malfoy blood is not one to be looked down on. They were eager to please him so he would be with them longer. Getting to be ‘friends’ with Draco give them a false sense of superiority, like of all the people Draco chooses them to be by his side.

He chooses them alright.

But not as a friend.

They have to pay a high price to realize this

Unfortunately, Vincent's toll was a bit higher than him.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Goyle asked, and when Draco still wouldn’t meet his eyes, he seemed to decide he had seen enough. “Pathetic,” he growled, his mouth pulled back into a sneer. He strode forward and shouldered his way between the two, his big stature knocking them both off their feet.

.

Ron grunted as his back hit the ground and when he opened his eyes, he saw Goyle looming over Malfoy. His breath hitched at the hatred in Goyle’s eyes, afraid he was going to hurt Malfoy.

Goyle looked down his nose and snarled, “We should have never wasted our life with you.” He spit at the space near Malfoy’s hand and stalked away, never once glancing back.

Ron watched him go, still baffled by the whole incident. He looked at Malfoy and saw his eyes brimming with tears. They quivered and sparkled at the corners of his eyes, and Ron was beside him in a flash.

“Malfoy,” he said gently, his hands hovering above him, but not quite sure where he should touch.

Malfoy blinked twice, and the tears were gone. Ron’s heart clenched at seeing how used to stopping them he was. He helped Malfoy to his feet and dusted the dirt off his clothes. Malfoy’s hands were scraped, the redness stark on his pale skin, but luckily there was no blood. He kept looking at the ground, so Ron took hold of his hand and led him to the restaurant.

Good thing the pub wasn’t crowded. They sat in a booth in the corner, where not too many people would walk past. A waitress came to take their orders, and Ron ordered a plate of pasties and a bowl of chips. They sat in silence, and when the food came, Malfoy didn’t touch any of it.

Ron sighed. Before coming here, he’d been boasting to Malfoy about how good the food was, but now it wouldn’t even matter.

He cut a piece of his pasty and held it up to Malfoy’s mouth.

“This is really good, you know? It’s been a long day, and you didn’t have dinner yet, so you should eat.”

Malfoy looked at the food but didn’t move.

“Come on, Dray, just one piece.”

Malfoy twitched at the name, and Ron used his trump card.

“Pleeeease,” he whined like a child, making Malfoy frown, and with a soft sigh, he ate the offered bite chewing slowly.

Seeing Malfoy eating, Ron smiled and quickly snatched a chip from the bowl, once again offering it to him.

“These are nice, too. Try ‘em.”

Malfoy looked at Ron’s hand holding the chip and scrunched up his nose, but reluctantly complied.

Ron's smile widened, and he pulled the plate of pasties toward himself. He cut a big piece and stuffed it into his mouth before turning back to Malfoy and cutting a smaller piece to feed him. The blond turned his head away. Mouth full, Ron made some vague noises and pushed his fork towards Malfoy more. He swallowed hastily and whined out another, “Pleeeease?”

Draco frowned, but accepted the offered food again. Ron had a feeling he only did so to shut him up, but who cares.

And that was how the meal went. Ron alternated between eating and feeding Malfoy, and when Malfoy became difficult, he pulled out his trump card, and all was well. His ultimate move had never failed him yet — not even Percy could withstand it. Ron just didn’t use it much because it was embarrassing, but tonight was a special occasion. After what had happened to Malfoy, this much embarrassment was nothing.

Ron fed him half of the plate before Malfoy shook his head. Ron nodded, satisfied that he’d agreed to eat even that much.

Malfoy sipped on his drink, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, occasionally glancing up to look at him.

Ron continued eating quietly, giving the blond time to gather his thoughts. Malfoy could choose to tell him what happened or not Ron couldn’t care less. He just wants Malfoy to go back to being his snotty self and insult his 'abysmal table manner'.

When Malfoy set down his glass Ron set down his utensils.

“He blamed me,” Malfoy started, “for Crabbe’s death.”

Ron was taken aback, not expecting Malfoy to get right to the point, and quite a heavy point at that.

“Why would it be your fault? Crabbe was the one who couldn’t control his own spell.”

Malfoy shrugged.

“That’s just pushing the blame, isn’t it? I mean, sure, you were their leader, but you didn’t put your wand to their heads and make them come along. Also, you were trying to stop him at the time, but he didn’t listen, and I didn’t see Goyle helping at all.” The more Ron spoke, the angrier he felt. If that big oaf was going to blame Malfoy, then he too held the same amount of responsibility for Crabbe’s death.

“It’s easier to blame someone than facing your guilt.”

“It’s still too much, the way he treated you. You’re his friend too, so shouldn’t he -”

“Come on, Weasley, even you know that’s not true.” Malfoy laughed humorlessly, and for a brief moment, he looked like he was going to cry again. “They were friends. I wasn’t.”

Ron had a sudden urge to hug him.

“After the war…we didn’t talk much. Our beliefs didn’t align anymore, and he became very hostile towards me. After Hogwarts, our paths rarely crossed, but every time it did, the exchange became more and more violent. That day my father and I had an argument, and he told me to get out of his house.”

Malfoy trailed off, and he look so sad, so lost.

Ron got up from his seat and moved to sit beside him on the other side of the table, wrapping his arm around his shoulders as he pulled him in for a hug. Malfoy didn’t resist, laying his head on Ron’s shoulder.

It took some more time, and Ron rubbing his arm soothingly, before Malfoy started talking again.

“My mother gave me some money and said she’d talk to him. She’s been constantly sending me money without him knowing.”

It had been over half a year now since Ron had met Malfoy in that café, so he didn’t think Narcissa had had much success.

“I met up with Goyle the day I left home. I was in a bad place and said some things…It was the first time he got physical.”

Ron felt bitter about the whole thing. He wasn’t saying Malfoy wasn’t to blame, but he shouldn’t have been blamed for everything. He hadn’t asked to be born in a Dark wizard family. Due to the actions of the people around him and his upbringing, he’d been forced to do many things he obviously didn't agree with, and when it had all blown up in their faces, they’d chosen to blame it on him.

At least Malfoy was trying to change. What had they done?

“Next time I meet him, I’m gonna beat some sense into his thick skull,” Ron said angrily.

“Don’t,” Malfoy objected weakly.

“Why?”

“Because.”

Malfoy looked up at him, seeming a bit miffed at Ron’s persistent argument. Ron met his eyes back, just as miffed, adamant in his decision.

“Please, Ronald,” Malfoy said with a tired sigh.

Ron found himself holding his breath when Malfoy said his name, all breathy and pleading, and he found his anger dissipating a little. Only a little.

He deflated and went back to rubbing Malfoy’s shoulder, a pout still prominent on his face.

Malfoy leaned his head back on his shoulder, and Ron’s pout went away.

“I walked around not knowing where to go next when I came across the hiring sign on the café’s window…Despite what had happened, I can’t say I’m not satisfied with where I’m now.” Malfoy’s voice took on a lighter tone. “I’m very fortunate.”

Ron could hear the smile in Malfoy’s voice and felt his mood lift as well. “Eric and his mother are good people.”

“Yes, yes they are.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, Malfoy’s head still resting on Ron’s shoulder, and somewhere along the way, he decided it was a good idea to lean his head on top of Malfoy’s own.

“At least let me break his nose a little,” Ron said quietly, the stubbornness of being the youngest brother making him refuse to let go of a grudge.

Malfoy chuckled. “You’re unbelievable.”

After dinner, Ron walked Malfoy back to the café. He lingered for a few moments not sure if he should really leave him alone. Just as he thought of it, Malfoy tugged on the corner of his coat, catching his attention.

“We should go back there again sometime. You were talking up the pasties so much…I should eat them properly.”

It was the first time Malfoy had said he wanted to go out with Ron.

Ron smiled from ear to ear. “I’m not feeding you next time.” Even though he felt like he wouldn’t mind if Malfoy wanted it.

Malfoy gave him a glare that they both knew was half-hearted.

They went back to the pub two days later.

Eric side-eyed Dray as he kept looking up at the door whenever someone walked in. He’d never thought the thing he’d said to Ron as a joke would come true. Any other day, it wouldn’t be this bad, but today was Saturday, and Ron always came by on Saturdays.

It was just as Dray went into the kitchen to collect an order that Ron came walking in. Eric laughed loudly, earning a startled look from the tables nearby. He sheepishly said sorry and went to greet Ron.

He saw Ron looking around and couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Why were these two being so adorable?

He decided not to comment on it and instead led Ron to an empty table.

“Is Dray not in today?” was the first thing Ron said the moment he plopped his rear on the chair. Eric’s smile stiffened. He was using the word adorable very lightly here.

“Dray this, Dray that, aren’t you gonna ask anything about me? You’ve been coming here for like, what, since March? It’s October now, Ron, I thought we were close.” Eric put on his most dramatic voice, complete with a hand clutching his chest and one against his forehead, making such a ridiculous picture it earned a couple of amused snickers from other patrons.

“How are you doing, Eric? Talking to any girls?” Ron asked after a bout of laughter.

“Am I?” Eric said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Let me tell you, the ladies can’t resist me. Just one word and they all -”

“Weren’t you ranting about how she two-timed you just yesterday?” another customer piped up teasingly.

Eric made a big gesture of shushing him, earning another round of laughter from the nearby patrons.

“You’re a heartthrob, I see.”

“Hmph!” Eric whipped his head to look the other way childishly and saw Dray heading towards them. He rolled his eyes again and waved at Ron before walking away.

“You seem to be having fun,” he heard Dray say as he left.

“Eric is an amusing guy.”

Dray sniffed. “Sorry I’m not fun.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, you know you’re my favourite here,” Ron said teasingly.

“After all the crap you put me through? I better be.”

Eric nearly gagged out loud.

Harry's eyes were nearly as wide as saucers now as he looked at the scene across the street from them.

Was that Ron talking to someone that looked like Draco Malfoy? And smiling? The hell?

“Is this where he’s been going to all along? Meeting up with Draco Malfoy?”

“That is Draco Malfoy, right?” George asked in a breathy voice, like he still couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

“I don’t think anyone can look so similar without being twins or the same person,” Harry replied.

Was that why Ron refused to go out to drink with him from time to time? He’d been coming here? Why hadn’t Ron brought Harry here, too, if it was a good place? Unless he didn’t want Harry to meet someone — a certain Malfoy, maybe? Still, it didn’t make sense. Harry knew they’d their differences in school, but they were all adults now. Harry had had let go of a lot of things, including his grudge against Malfoy. The fact that Ron had decided to keep their meeting a secret hurt.

“I’m going to talk to him.” Harry made to get up, but two hands pushed him back into his seat. The annoyed eyes of his girlfriend and his other best friend looked back at him disapprovingly.

“Don’t you dare,” Ginny said, and Hermione nodded behind her.

“We didn’t follow him today to confront him on whatever he’s been doing. We just needed to make sure that he was okay, and he is.” Hermione crossed her arms.

“I know, and I just need to ask him why he’s been hiding this from me…And maybe check if Malfoy is doing anything funny to him.” Harry shrugged.

“Are you sure you’re not going to go in there and make a scene? You know, Malfoy kind of helped us out here and there during the war, so I’m not going to let you hurt him.”

“Hermione, you punched the bloke.”

Her face coloured, and she coughed into her fist. “W-well, a lot has changed, and I don’t think we should interfere with them yet.”

Ginny touched his arm. “You know Ron. If he knows that we know, he might not come back here again…Or he’ll start getting huffy with us for being nosy.”

Either would be a pain, Harry realised.

“It’s weird considering how much he complained about him before, but I’m not the one who has history with Malfoy, so who am I to judge?” George said with a laugh. “Truthfully, it’s kind of amusing. I just can’t wait to tease him once he knows we found out his secret.”

George gave Harry a sly smile, which he reciprocated.

Oh yes, they were going to tease him, alright — so much so that Ron would never dream of keeping secrets from them again.

Ginny and Hermione sighed at their childishness.

Harry looked back at the café window to see Malfoy handing Ron his coffee. Ron looked so happy to be drinking it, for a brief moment he debated going there on his own some other time. He shook her head, not sure Malfoy would welcome him with open arms like he did Ron.

But they were really getting along, weren’t they? Talking back and forth, frowning and smiling. He didn’t like Malfoy, but he didn’t hate him anymore either. He’d been through a lot, what with how he’d been raised. Somewhere along the way, his feeling of dislike had turned into indifference.

He looked at Hermione, worried if she would be alright, and saw her smiling at the scene. Their breakup was devastating and, for a while, Harry was afraid that this was the end of their friendship. It took some time, but in the end, both of them pulled through, and Harry couldn’t be more thankful.

Right now, Harry watched how happy Ron was to be talking to Malfoy and lamented how he hadn’t seen his friend so pleased in a long while.

He smiled softly.

Maybe he was starting to like Draco Malfoy a little.

Ron had been debating with himself for a while.

If he was going to do this, many things would change, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready. Wasn’t sure if Malfoy was ready. He didn’t want to trouble him more than he should.

So he decided to test the waters, to see what he should do next.

“Soooooo,” he drawled out uncertainly, earning him a raised eyebrow from Malfoy. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Nothing,” Malfoy replied nonchalantly. “Maybe walked around town and go to some bars. I didn't get the chance to last year. Looking at how Muggles celebrate Christmas might be fun.”

The blond had finally abandoned his flimsy front of not being Draco Malfoy the day they came across Goyle. Ron decided not to make a fuss, just to give the man some face.

[“Hey, Malford,” Ron said a bit too cheery.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.” Malfoy snapped

Ron smirked, “you’re the one who’s adamant about keeping up the gig. I’m just humoring you.”

Draco huffed, “just don’t let Eric know.”

He wondered when Malfoy was going to tell Eric. If he ever will, but it’s none of his problems.

“Then should I call you Dray from now on? Since that’s practically your name anyway.”

“Do whatever you want.”]

And that was it. Ron was quite relieved too since now he could go back to talking about their past without having to be roundabout about it.

Ron frown at Malfoy’s answer.

He thought he should have been happy Malfoy didn’t have any plans for Christmas, but the thought of the blond spending the holiday alone didn’t sit well with him. Lucius, that bloody cow face minger. When is he going to pull his head out of his arse and stop being such a stuck-up git?

“Then come celebrate with me.”

Malfoy whipped his head to look at him in astonishment.

“What?”

Ron cleared his throat, face flushing, and said more softly, “If you have nothing to do this Christmas, why not come celebrate with my family?”

Malfoy frowned. “I don’t think your family would like me very much. Also, won’t Potter and Granger be there? I don’t want things to get awkward because of me.”

“It won’t be. I’ll talk to them,” Ron reassured him.

“I’m not so sure.” Malfoy still seemed hesitant, but then Ron pulled out his trump card again.

“Pleeeeeease.”

The angle was in Ron’s favour today. With Malfoy standing and him sitting, he widened his eyes and looked up at him, trying to appear as persuasive as possible.

Malfoy took a step back and tried not to meet his eyes. “Stop it, Ronald.”

Ron knew he just needed to push a little more, so he smiled sweetly. “Please, Dray, I really want you to be there.” And he meant it, of course. He wanted to celebrate Christmas with Malfoy.

Malfoy turned away to hide the blush on his face. “Fine, I’ll go.”

Ron’s smile widened, and Malfoy looked like he was trying not to do the same.

“What? No!”

Both of them looked over to see Eric doing his dramatic sad pose again.

“How could you do this to me? I was going to ask Dray over for Christmas this year.”

Malfoy blinked. “You were?”

“Hey! It’s not my fault you decided to appear out of the blue, okay? We were just getting to know you, so it wouldn’t have been normal to invite you last year. It’s different now. We’re friends.” Eric turned to give Ron a menacing glare. “Close friends.”

Ron saw Malfoy’s eyes widen.

“We are?”

“Of course we are. We see each other every day, we eat together, work together, gossip together — hell, we even sleep together.”

Ron choked on his coffee.

“Naps!” Malfoy objected loudly, face flushed a bright red. “We take naps in the back when it’s a slow day sometimes. Say it properly!”

“The point is,” Eric pressed on, ignoring Malfoy’s outburst, “you’re one of my closest friends, and I know you’re a reserved bloke, but I would like it if you could consider me to be yours too in the future.” Despite the comedic beginning, he said the last part firmly.

.

Eric is not trying to push anything onto the blond; he just really likes Dray. They start out as awkward co-workers, but as time goes by, he can see that Dray is a good guy. He might not be the most charming talker, but he shows his care through action more than words.

Like how Dray wakes up early so he can water the plants out front before opening the shop because he knows his mother loves them, or how he washed the plates soaking in the sink after they already closed to lessen their work the next day. Sometimes when they nap Dray would wake up before him to turn off the alarm and let Eric sleeps a little more while he went out to take over from his mother. They also know he changed out the lights and fixed the pipes after hours. How else would the shop be running without problems since he came?

It's these little things he did when he thought no one is looking that made him precious to Eric. How can he not consider someone like that his close friend?

..

“Eric.”

Draco was taken aback and doesn’t know what to say. He never had anyone say he’s their close friend before. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle, but it’s more of self-proclamation used for bragging rights than him accepting it. Come to think of it, he never thought of anyone as his close friend, or a friend at all, did he?

But Eric is different.

Eric didn’t know who he used to be, his family, or their power. Eric is not trying to kiss up to him. He wants to be his friend purely for who Draco is.

This man had been looking out for him since they met. He knows that he’s not the best person to be around and is oblivious to many muggle ways, but Eric was always beside him. He could choose to ignore Draco, but he didn’t. Eric talked him through how to work each machine and how to greet a customer properly. He also told him he could use the room upstairs for free. True, they had their difference, but the man never once turned his back on him and embraced all his faults with a smile.

Eric called him a close friend, but would he even know that, for Draco, he’s the one and only best friend he ever had.

He smiles.

He would never have thought his best friend to be a muggle.

“Close friends it is.”

Eric smiled widely and hugged Draco around his shoulders, bringing them cheek to cheek. “Aww, you’re the best,” he said, rubbing their cheeks together.

Draco, reluctantly let him do as he pleased as to not ruin the moment.

..

Ron smiled at the scene, thinking he was fine with being the bad guy for once.

“It’s a shame you’re already going to Ron’s place,” Eric was saying. “Mum's gonna be so disappointed. She already planned your Christmas present, not to mention my sister has been wanting to meet you for a while now.”

“Why?”

“Cause when she came home during summer break, I told her there’s a guy at work who would appreciate her snarky humour, and she’s been pestering me ever since.”

Malfoy smiled warmly. “How about after Christmas?” he suggested.

“New Years?”

“If you would have me.”

“You said it yourself, no take backs.” Eric turned to look at Ron, smiling in triumph. “Hear that? New Year’s Eve is mine. You can’t take him.”

Ron looked at how Draco was smiling fondly at Eric, and he couldn’t help smiling as well.

“Loud and clear.”

Ron decided to ignore the annoying little voice at the back of his mind complaining about how the two were too close and how maybe — just maybe — he should plan to keep Malfoy over for New Year’s, too.

Draco lamented about not having more clothes. In his defence, he’d never had this problem before in his life. When he was back home, his mother had taken care of buying everything, and once he’d come to the café, there was no reason to have more than a couple of outfits, since he wore his uniform most of the time anyway.

He remembered the mountain of clothes he’d had at home and how he’d had to throw away many things before he’d even got the chance to wear them because they’d gone out of fashion. He would gladly wear any of them now.

He looked at all the clothes on the bed and felt ridiculous. The Weasleys wouldn’t care what he wore, but still. He hadn’t been on his best behaviour around them in the past, so he at least wanted to make a good impression as a guest now.

Draco riffled through the pile of black and white and green and held up a simple maroon button-up. He never liked the colour, but he’d seen it many times on Ron and had thought it looked nice, so had bought one for himself.

He sighs.

This would have to do.

Ron raised his eyebrows when he saw what Malfoy was wearing — a long-sleeve red shirt and light grey slacks with a matching coat. His hair was slicked back, making him look so prim and proper Ron had to look down at his own t-shirt and jeans.

Malfoy’s face was flushed a pale pink from the cold. Under the light from the streetlamp, Ron thought he looked utterly dashing.

Maybe that was why those girls were trying to catch his eye.

Ron hurried over to Malfoy, blocking them from his view.

“Hey.”

Malfoy gave him a flat look. “Will you ever be on time?”

“I am. You’re the one who’s early.” He glanced over his shoulder back at the girls and saw them walking away. He smirked.

Turning back, he saw Malfoy was carrying two bags filled to the brim.

“What’s all this?” Ron asked, taking one of the bags and peeking inside. He saw boxes of pastries and tins of sweets and cookies wrapped in brightly coloured ribbons.

“I didn’t know what your family would like, so I picked out one of everything on the shelf. Does your father drink? I brought wine — it’s red, would he prefer white instead? You have five siblings, right, or was it six? I also brought candles for your mother — mothers like candles, right? At least mine does.”

Ron watched Malfoy ramble on and felt his heart warm. He had the sudden urge to…do something. He didn’t know what, but he wanted to do it so much he felt like he could burst.

His smile was big and dopey as he grabbed Malfoy’s hand and pulled him along.

“They’re easy-going people. They’ll be happy with whatever you give them.”

Ron led him to Diagon Alley and into the joke shop, where they took a Portkey to outside The Burrow — all the while, never once letting go of Malfoy’s hand.

“You ready?”

Malfoy took a deep breath and straightened himself up, nodding.

Ron smiled fondly at the determined look on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” He rubbed his thumb on the back of Malfoy’s hand in comfort, feeling him relax a little under his touch.

“We’re here!” Ron announced loudly as they walked inside, and only then did he let go of Malfoy’s hand to receive his mother’s hug.

“Welcome, welcome,” Molly Weasley said happily and turned to look at Malfoy. Before he could say his greetings, she pulled him in for a big hug as well. “Welcome, Draco dear, how have you been?” She pulled back to look him up and down. “Have you grown taller? I have to say, you are getting more and more attractive.” She shook her head. “If only Ronald would try to dress up as nicely as you.”

“Mum, please.”

“Here, Mrs. Weasley,” Malfoy, a little flustered, hands her a candle inside a beautifully-decorated glass holder. “A little something for your home. Thank you for having me over.”

“Oh my.” She lifted the gift up to her face and admired it from left to right. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much, dear, but next time don’t trouble yourself. We’re just happy to have you here.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it. You know what? Let’s light this at dinner tonight.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly.

“Oh! Ron and Draco arrived? Welcome! Hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here.” Arthur Weasley came to stand beside his wife and shook Malfoy’s hand.

“Hello, Mr. Weasley.” Malfoy presented him with the wine bottle. “Thank you for having me over. I hope this is to your liking.”

Arthur took the bottle and looked at it in astonishment.

“It’s a muggle brand, since I’ve heard you’re quite interested in their culture…Um, my friend recommended this one, but I don’t know if it’s good or not.” Malfoy trailed off when Arthur kept staring at him without saying anything.

Ron understands his father’s silence.

Malfoy is not the most…charming whenever his father meets him. The man probably didn’t think Draco would come bearing gifts.

He signaled his dad to reply after seeing Malfoy’s face getting worst by the second. His father looked at him, then at his companion fidgeting, and let out a fond smile.

“I don’t think I could possibly finish it alone, so why don’t you share it with me after dinner tonight?”

Malfoy relaxed at the invitation and smiled. “I’d like that.”

All eyes turned to them the moment Ron walked Malfoy into the living room. George got up from the sofa and strode over to them.

“Draco! Fancy meeting you after all this time. Welcome to my humble abode. Come, come, sit beside me.”

George practically dragged Malfoy back over to the sofa. He sidled up to him as they sat. Malfoy looked so uncomfortable, Ron took pity on him and plopped himself on his other side.

Malfoy was looking down at his feet, fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt. Ron saw how nervous his brother was making him and gave George a warning look, which he totally ignored, instead gesturing to the bag by Ron’s feet instead.

“What have you got there, little bro? My present?”

Ron picked up the bag and nudged Malfoy lightly, bringing the blond out of his musing. He gave an encouraging smile to try to lighten the mood. He doesn’t want Malfoy to think coming here was a mistake.

He placed the bag on Malfoy’s lap. “Yeah, they’re presents, but not from me.” He winked at Malfoy who took a moment to compose himself.

The blond dug into the bag and fished out a tin of biscuits and handed them over to George. “Here.”

George looked dumbfounded and pointed to himself. “For me?”

Malfoy nodded, and George took the gift, eyes widening. Malfoy began handing out presents to Percy and Charlie and Ginny as well, who each sported their own expressions of disbelief.

When he handed one over to Harry, he paused and placed the tin back in his bag. Ron’s heart dropped when he saw Harry narrow his eyes, and the atmosphere in the room grew cold.

Malfoy, oblivious of the consequences of his action, pulled out a pastry box and handed that over instead.

Harry looked at the box of treacle tart in surprise, but didn’t reach to take it.

Here again, Ron understands his friend’s action; but Harry is taking too long, and unlike with his parents, Malfoy doesn’t have the patience to deal with him.

Malfoy frowned and threw the box onto Harry’s lap.

“Don’t you like treacle tart?” He asked a mild annoyed.

Harry still looked shocked. “Yeah, I do. How did you -?”

“You always bought a box from Honeydukes, didn’t you?” Malfoy said nonchalantly as he searched the bag for another gift. He pulled out another pastry box, this time containing cauldron cakes, and handed it to Hermione.

“Oh, thank you.”

Malfoy nodded, but didn’t elaborate more.

Harry and Hermione both looked at Ron, two questioning and one denying. Then they looked back at their gifts, and Ron looked to Malfoy. To think Draco Malfoy would know and remember their favourite treats from school was quite…astonishing. But weirdly touching as well.

“What?” Malfoy snapped at him, his face glowing a warm red.

The feeling of wanting to do something hit Ron again at full force, and he grinned back stupidly. “Nothing.”

They all talked for a bit while Malfoy sat quietly. They tried to include him in the conversation, but never got anything more than a couple of words out of him. Ron let him be, not wanting to make him too uncomfortable. George was pretty well behaved, considering, after receiving his gift, even asking to open it right away and loudly exclaiming that it was delicious.

After some time, Ron’s siblings went to do their own thing, leaving him and Malfoy along with Harry and Hermione.

Malfoy looked everywhere except at Ron’s friends, who were both looking at each other. They got up simultaneously and strode over to sit on each side of him, pushing Ron out of the way and ignoring his protests.

Hermione let out a giggle, eyeing Malfoy as he tensed up. “No need to be so nervous, Malfoy. We just want to talk.”

“So how long have you and Ron been seeing each other?” Harry asked, and Malfoy jerked away in surprise. “I mean after Hogwarts.”

“Around March, so nearly a year?” Malfoy said, not meeting his eyes.

“That bastard!”

“Oi -” Ron tried to cut in as Malfoy jumped a little at Harry’s sudden exclamation, but then Hermione patted his back in apology.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just miffed he’s been kept out of the loop. But honestly, I’m surprised to see you two being so civil with each other.”

Malfoy glanced at Ron, then turned back to Hermione. “A lot has happened. We weren’t the most friendly when we first met again.”

“And whose fault is that?” Ron teased.

“Shut it, Weasley.”

Hermione looked at their banter and laugh, “I never thought it’d be you, but I guess it’s not so bad.”

Both Ron and Malfoy blinked in confusion, but Hermione didn’t say anything more.

“Why couldn’t you be this nice when we were eleven?”

The harmonious atmosphere around them came crashing down. Malfoy whipped his head around to scowl at Harry, who smirked.

“Oh, so you still know how to make faces like that.”

“Potter,” he warned through clenched teeth.

Harry's smirk widened. Hermione was frowning at him and shaking her head no.

“I mean, if you were like this at the time, maybe I would have thought over your proposal a bit more.” Malfoy looked confused, and Harry added, “That time on the Hogwarts Express, when you said we should be friends.”

Realisation dawned on Malfoy’s face. “It’s a good thing you didn’t. I only approached you to please my father, because he thought you’d be a Dark wizard. If you’d accepted, you would have just become a bragging trophy.”

Harry just laughed. “See? If you’d been like this since we were eleven, we would have been friends.”

“You don’t understand.” Malfoy shook his head.

“No, you’re the one who doesn’t understand.” Harry patted his shoulder. “You’ve changed, Malfoy. I can see that, everyone can see that. We were kids — let the past be the past, no one is holding a grudge against you here. You’re an arse but…well…you kinda had to be, didn’t you?” Harry’s smile turned wistful. “I have a cousin who’s like you. Bullied me since we were little because his parents encouraged him to, but we’re good now. He loves the Bertie Bott’s I sent him so much he won’t stop talking about them.” Harry held out his hand to Malfoy. “So, how about we start over? No more pleasing your father, no more Dark wizards.”

Malfoy looked at the hand, then back up to Harry’s smiling face before he sighed. “Don’t make me regret this later.” He grabbed Harry’s hand, and Hermione rubbed his back in acceptance. Malfoy’s face flushed.

“Now look at you three, being all chummy,” Ron said.

“We’re not chummy,” Malfoy said, flicking Potter’s hand away. Harry gave him a dry look.

Ron came to stand in front of Malfoy and hold out his hand. “Come, I have something to show you.” Malfoy took his hand, and he led up the stairs, missing Harry and Hermione giving Malfoy the thumbs up, and the blond face flushed a bright red.

They climbed higher and higher until they reached the room at the top of the house.

“It’s a bit messy. Don’t pay attention to it,” Ron said, kicking aside some discarded clothes to make a path to the window for Malfoy. He climbed out onto the roof and helped Malfoy to settle down beside him.

The night was clear, and the moon shone for miles around, making the stars look bigger and brighter than normal. It was big and round, glowing brightly.

Ron looked at Malfoy’s awestruck face and grinned, the moon reflecting in his grey eyes, making them glow a soft silver. Ron felt his heart beat fast, thinking he must be hallucinating, because how could Malfoy look this good?

He coughed into his fist, trying to calm his racing heart. “Pretty, right?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy replied breathlessly. He looked at Ron as if searching for something. Ron decided to turn his body to face Malfoy fully, showing that he had his full attention. He smiles encouragingly, urging the other to tell him what’s on his mind.

That seems to do the trick because Malfoy’s eyes soften, and his pink tongue darts out to wet his lips, preparing himself for what’s he’s about to say.

Ron’s eyes follow the tongue, and he nearly misses what Malfoy said.

“Why are you doing this, Ronald?”

Ron, still a bit dazed took a second to answer, “Because it’s pretty, and I wanted you to see it.”

“Why?”

Ron blinked. “What do you mean, why? I want you to be happy. Don’t you like it?”

Malfoy smiled at the answer, “I do, very much, it’s very beautiful. But I’m asking why me?”

“Because you’re my friend?” Ron was starting to get confused. Had he done something wrong?

“Like Potter and Granger?”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t they here too?”

The question took Ron by surprise, and he was stunned to find he didn’t have an answer for that. He knew Harry and Hermione hadn’t followed them, but he hadn’t cared. All he cares about was showing the scenery to Malfoy. He knew that he’d seen Malfoy as a friend for a while now, but somehow the feeling was different from how he felt about Harry and Hermione.

“Because…because you’re different,” Ron said finally.

“How?”

“I don’t know, you just are, alright?” Ron was starting to get frustrated. Why was Malfoy asking him all these questions?

Malfoy sighed. “For Merlin’s sake, Ron, I’ve stepped in puddles deeper than your intellect,” he massaged his temple.

Before Ron could protest, Malfoy had suddenly cradled his face, and was pulling him in for a kiss.

It was brief. Just a touch of lips for a moment, before Malfoy pulled away.

“Bloody hell,” Ron whispered, his breath ghosting over Malfoy’s lips.

“So?” Malfoy sounded like he was trying to be nonchalant, but his voice came out shaky.

Ron was surprised at himself for not feeling disgusted, but on the contrary…he was thrilled. He frowned. “Let me make sure.”

He pulled Malfoy in for another kiss — this time longer, softer, sweeter. So sweet that despite his best effort he couldn’t help letting out a moan. He felt Malfoy push back against his lips, trying to get the upper hand. Ron switched angles and slipped his tongue in Malfoy’s mouth. His hand closed around Malfoy’s waist, and the other sliding up behind his head, caging him in his embrace. He smirked into the kiss feeling Malfoy clutching at the front of his shirt, rapidly losing the battle.

They eventually pulled away for air, each of their faces a bright red.

“Well?” Malfoy said, panting.

Ron smirked at him, feeling a bit winded himself. “Not quite sure yet.”

“You -”

Ron swooped in for another kiss before Malfoy could protest further — this time a bit shorter, but still sweet just the same. Malfoy was scowling at him when he pulled away, and Ron's eyes twinkled merrily.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Who would have thought, you and I?” Ron laughed both at the situation and himself. Never in his life would he have thought he’d end up with Draco Malfoy. A haughty, sarcastic, spoiled brat who, after many years, was still all those things, just a bit more tolerable.

He could confidently and regrettably say that he liked Malfoy. Since when, he didn’t know. The reason, he can’t say either. What he did know was that the moment Malfoy had kissed him, Ron felt right, natural, like this was meant to happen. Like all that banter, those dinners, those little moments together had been leading him to right where he was now.

He looked at Malfoy’s face, still tinged red, and felt the urge to kiss him again, but he didn't think Malfoy would like it very much and might even hit him.

Hah, how domineering.

Hermione was the same. Wait, was that his type?

Ron tilted his head a bit. “What now? What are we?”

Malfoy appeared like he was trying to seem indifferent. “Up to you.” He shrugged and looked away.

“Alright, friend it is.”

Malfoy whipped his head around before Ron could even finish his sentence. He was glaring at him so hard that if looks could kill, Ron would be dead.

Ron burst out laughing. “You’re so stubborn.”

Malfoy looked like he was going to retort, but a loud crack indicating the arrival of Bill and Fleur interrupted him. Ron took his hand and led him back inside.

As they walked down the stairs, Ron decides they should make their status clear. Someone like Malfoy would be too vain to ask again.

“Hermione always said I was a lousy boyfriend, so you better prepare yourself.”

“Bloody fantastic,” Malfoy replied, and Ron laughed, because he could hear the smile in Malfoy’s voice.

They arrived at the dining room just as everyone was finishing their greetings. Ginny came to stand beside them and handed Malfoy a bag with some presents inside. Malfoy thanked her, and when she remained standing in front of him, he tilted his head in question.

Ginny looked at him, then at Ron who was beaming back at her, and she pulled a face. She patted Malfoy on the shoulder and told him that Bill already knew he was coming, so he should give them his presents.

The moment Bill saw Malfoy, he made a beeline right for him.

“Hi, Draco, long time no see. The house is quite chaotic, isn’t it? Hope they didn’t give you too much trouble.” Bill gestured to his younger siblings, some scowling, and some just smiling slyly.

Fleur came up beside him, her arms holding a one-year-old Victoire, who looked up at Draco with wide curious eyes.

“Zits alvays good to ‘ave more people,” she said, bouncing the baby in her arms.

“It’s different from how we do it at home, but it’s a nice change,” Malfoy replied. “A lot merrier.”

Malfoy reached into his bag and brought out the last of the presents — a box of macaroons and a tin of biscotti. Fleur’s eyes lit up when she saw the sweets.

“A little thank you for having me here.”

Bill received the two boxes happily.

Victoire reached out towards Malfoy. Malfoy looked hesitant, but with Fleur’s encouragement, he held out his finger, which the child grabbed onto tightly. She shook it up and down and cooed happily. Malfoy smiled. He reached into his coat pocket and brought out a long, thin box, presenting it to her.

“This is for you,” he said, opening the box to reveal a gold, satin ribbon decorated with lace and flower beads.

“Oh my,” Fleur exclaimed. “Zit is beautiful, Draco.”

Victoire looked at her present with twinkling eyes, and before anyone could stop her, she grabbed it out of the box and put it in her mouth. Bill quickly pulled it out and sheepishly apologised to Malfoy for ruining his present.

“It seems like she likes it, so I’m glad,” he said with a smile.

Ron watched the scene in silence. Since the moment Malfoy had brought out the ribbon box for Victoire, he’d felt that urge to do something again, this time more powerful than all the times before. Suddenly, it dawned on him and, feeling excited, he grabbed hold of the blond’s hand.

“You lot go ahead and eat. I need to talk to Draco for a bit,” he said as he pulled Malfoy outside.

Molly watched as her son dragged their guest out in a hurry and shook her head.

She ushered everyone into the dining room, and they settled around the table, leaving two spaces side by side at the end of the table. She placed Draco’s gift in the middle of the table and sighed when she lit it.

It really is pretty.

She remembered how forceful Ron had been when he told them that Draco was coming for Christmas and that they were not to harass him. The statement aimed at George and Harry more than the others. She knows her children well enough to know that something was up. Seeing Hermione and Ginny high-fiving each other under the table was all the proof she needed.

Good thing she is a smart woman and already knitted our guest his Christmas gift.

Ron pulled Malfoy away from the house toward the shed, where there was still a light on, but they wouldn’t be seen. It wasn’t like he wanted to keep them a secret, but he didn’t think Malfoy would appreciate Ron’s family seeing them from the windows.

“So, what did you want to talk about? Keep it short, I’m getting hungry.” Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest.

“You know, since I picked you up tonight, I’ve been having this urge to do something,” Ron said, not fazed by the annoyed look on Malfoy’s face. After their time spent together, he’d come to know that that was Draco’s default look. It was the silent stare that he needed to be concerned about.

Malfoy’s frown deepened.

“First was when I saw you’d prepared gifts for my family,” Ron continued. “Then when you knew Harry’s and Hermione’s favourite sweets, and just now when you give Victoire her ribbon. I just know that I want to do something, but for the life of me, I don't know what.” He looked at Malfoy.

“So, what did you want to do?” Malfoy sighed, humoring him.

Ron grinned widely and pulled him into his arms. “Kiss you. I want to kiss you.” He said, bringing their faces close.

Malfoy blushed his eyes wide in surprise. “You’re such a sap,” he scolded harshly.

Ron didn’t mind. He knew Mafoy became more hostile when he was embarrassed.

“So, can I?” Ron asked, inching closer.

Malfoy gained a challenging look and pushed Ron up against the shed’s wall. Before Ron could comprehend their switched positions, Draco was already kissing him.

Ron couldn’t care less who kissed who, and so he happily let Draco take control. He felt Malfoy smirk against his lips in triumph, and Ron pulled him in closer.

It was sometime before they went back into the house, Ron grinning stupidly, and Malfoy trying to avoid everyone’s eyes.

The candle Malfoy had given Ron’s Mum sat glowing softly in the middle of the table. Malfoy’s eyes soften and Ron’s heart swell.

Fleur sat in the chair beside Malfoy, Victoire on her lap, his ribbon tied nicely around her head. Ron had to admit, she looked very cute with it, and he planned to buy her some more with Malfoy.

After dessert, everyone moved to the living room, and Ron’s Dad handed Malfoy a goblet of the wine he had gifted him. They clinked their glasses together and each took a sip, Arthur complimenting him on the taste. Malfoy was turning the half-empty goblet around in his hand when Hermione clinked her glass against it and sat down beside him on the sofa.

“I take it everything went well?” she said, giving them a suggestive smile.

“As well as it can go with this clueless ginger, I guess?”

Hermione laughed at Ron’s scowl. “I’d had to take the initiative too. Otherwise, he would have never asked me out.”

Malfoy sighed. “Answer me this, Granger? You and I are both smart people, so why did we fall for this nitwit?”

She shrugged. “No idea.” Then she smirked. “But you have to agree that his stupid face is quite adorable.”

Malfoy let out a scoff. “I guess.”

Ron wanted to retort the two, but Harry and George came out of nowhere and hauled him off to another room.

They closed the door, and he saw Ginny sitting on a chair, a determined look on her face.

He gulped.

He should have known.

The night was going too perfectly.

 Of course, something was going to come and ruin it.

Draco looked at Ron getting dragged away without batting an eye and looked back to his wine. Mr. Weasley was complimenting it so much when, in actuality, it was nothing compared to what his father usually drinks. He should buy the man a better one next time.

“Hey, Malfoy,” Hermione said softly beside him.

He raised his eyebrows at the change of tone and tilted his head in question.

“I don’t know how serious you’re taking this relationship, but if you could…please, don’t hurt him.” Her smile took on a sad tinge, “I’ve done that enough already for the both of us.”

Draco’s heart shook when he got reminded of the relationship these two shared. His scowled deepened as jealousy reared its ugly head.

“You two broke up.” He stated, the question blatant in his voice.

Hermione sighed and looked down at her hands, “Yes, we did. About two years after school, I think. It’s nothing serious, just…realizing that the future we want didn’t align. We’ll just keep each other from reaching our goals because we tried to put each other first. So, before we start to resent one another because of our stubbornness, we decide to end things…well, he decides to end things. I just realized it after we broke up for a while.”

She turned to face him, “He’s clueless and rash about many things but incredibly sharp when it means ensuring the happiness of the people around him. I just wish I didn’t say all those terrible things to him.”

Draco feels like he shouldn’t pry anymore. He had heard enough to satisfy him the details are none of his concern.

He hesitantly put his hand on her knee, “He never talks bad about you, just said you want different things in life and that you’re too good for him.”

Hermione looks at the hand on her knee and smiles at the awkward attempt of consoling her.

She put her hand over his, “Let’s start over too, shall we?”

He looked at their overlapped hands and frowned, “Do I have a choice?”

Hermione laughed, and Malfoy thinks that looks suit her more than the sad one just now.

Ron came shuffling back to them, looking all frazzled. He shooed Hermione along, and she rolled her eyes at him but still got up nonetheless. She turned to wink at Draco and shook her head as Ron plopped himself down on the sofa in her place. 

He sighed tiredly and leaned against Draco. The blond glanced at him from the corner of his eyes and took pleasure in the other’s misery. In the end, Ron still gets the upper hand during their last kiss.

“Your miserable face is very refreshing,” Draco said, taking a sip from his goblet.

Ron, still slumped against him, let out a groan. “What kind of monster are you?”

He replied without missing a beat, “The kind you’re stuck with.” After a bit, he felt his shoulder shaking, and he glanced at the man slumping against him, “are you smiling?”

“So what if I am?” Ron chuckled.

The sight irritates and makes Draco’s heart race at the same time. The blond lament his own bad judgment. 

He should have known that liking a Weasley would be complicated.

Christmas came and went amongst the excitement of receiving and opening presents. Draco was surprised that he also received a gift from Mrs. Weasley. It was an emerald green, hand-knitted jumper, and Draco was so touched he’d needed a moment to compose himself.

He wore it all day, and no matter how much teasing he got from Ron, he refused to take it off.

He had to leave on the 30th, so he could ride in Eric’s car to his family house in the countryside. Ron argued that Draco should stay a day more since it wasn’t New Year’s Eve yet, and Ron could go send him off instead, but Draco vehemently declined.

“I already told Eric I’ll be going with him, so stop being such a baby.”

Ron seemed to feel a bit jealous of how important Eric was for Draco, which was rather cute.

Just a bit, though.

Really.

It was the first of January, and Ron was bummed he couldn’t wish Draco a happy new year since he couldn’t fire-call him from Eric’s place, and Ron’s father wasn’t quite invested enough in Muggle culture to have a telephone. Not that Ron knows Eric’s house number, anyway, and he didn’t dare send an owl in case he would get Draco in trouble.

So imagine his surprise when Draco’s head appeared in the Burrow’s fireplace.

“Bloody hell, Draco, where are you?” Ron exclaimed, because there was no way he was fire-calling Ron from Eric’s place, right?

Malfoy gave him a dumbfounded look. “You’re not going to believe this.”

Before he could say anything more, Eric’s head appeared instead.

“Hey, Ron!” Eric cried excitedly. “Is this neat or what?”

“Blimey, Eric, you’re a wizard!?”

“Nope, but my sister’s a witch. She’s a first-year at Hogswart.” Eric looked off to the side. “What? Oh, oh, right, Hogwarts. She’s a second-year at Hogwarts, and guess what, she’s a Slithering.” He looked to the side again. “Slithrin, whatever — it’s the snake house, like Dray, isn’t that barmy?”

“…Very.”

Draco's head came back. “So apparently Eric kinda knows that we’re wizards since his sister came back for summer break and saw the snow globe you gave him.”

Oh, wow. That was quite some time ago. Who knew Eric was such a good Secret Keeper?

“So…did you talk to him?”

Draco nodded, and Eric squeezed his head in.

“Draco Malfoy. I understand now why you’re pissed, I would have been too.”

“Sod off, Eric.” Draco pushed his head out.

Ron couldn’t help laughing. “Serves you right.”

“Shut up, Weasley,” Draco snapped, and the connection was cut off.

How romantic.

Ron wasn’t even mad.

A week later, the café opened back up, and Ron got to wish Draco a happy new year face-to-face. Eric was on him the moment he walked in, bursting to talk about everything magic.

“I couldn’t believe Dray was in a gang, and an infamous one at that. It’s so cool!”

Ron nearly had a heart attack when Eric referred to being a Death Eater as being ‘in a gang’. Voldemort would probably turn in his grave if the bastard had one.

It seemed Draco hadn’t withheld any information about his deeds either, it was just that Eric couldn’t care less.

Eric asked them all sorts of things about Hogwarts and the Wizarding world. He was so excited to hear that Diagon Alley was just a couple of streets away. Since the last time his family went to buy books for his sister, he was down with the flu. He made Ron and Draco swear to take him there someday. Draco gave him tips about how to thrive in Slytherin, which Eric said he’d happily relay to his sister.

“You should tell her that professors rarely check the ingredients after Potions. Pocketing a couple here and there over time will give you quite a stock you can use to brew things outside of class.”

“Oh, that sounds great. She could make some to use against those nitwits that bully her because she’s…what do you guys call it again…Muggle-born? Such a funny word.”

“There’s a wide range of potions that could go undetected. Creating rashes in private areas, or making you have weird hallucinations, or growing warts in your belly button. Harmless things that are too embarrassing to make a fuss about.” Draco smiled evilly as he listed off the things on his fingers.

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t you think that’s too much?” Ron piped up, frowning in worry for those students’ fates.

Draco gave him a flat look. “We tried to hex each other, Granger punched me in the face, and Potter sent me to the infirmary.”

Ron shut up after that.

“You sure are hated, aren’t you?” Eric laughed, and Draco flipped him the bird. “But seriously,” Eric looked at Ron, “they should be grateful that’s all they’re getting.” Eric’s bright smile contrasted his ruthless words. “It's most satisfying when they know who did it to them, but can’t do a thing about it. Thanks, Dray.” He patted Draco’s shoulder. “My sister could do a lot with that information.”

Eric was definitely a Slytherin as well, Ron concluded.

And guessing from that one time he’d seen Eric’s mother drive away a rowdy customer with just a look, he had an inkling she was a Slytherin, too.

Had he been frequenting a snake pit all along?

Well, Ron thought.

His hand brushed against Draco’s when he handed him his coffee.

Ron smiled.

Draco frowned.

And Eric dry heaved in the background.

What else was Ron expecting when he was dating Draco Malfoy?