Chasing the Spotlight

The moonlight streamed through the grand windows of Hogwarts, casting long shadows down the stone corridors. Ron and Draco were running, their laughter echoing through the halls, the thrill of freedom pulling them forward. It was a rare, carefree night—no responsibilities, no Malfoy family expectations, no rules.
"Catch me if you can, Weasley!" Draco called over his shoulder, his silver-blonde hair flying behind him as he sprinted ahead.
Ron’s grin stretched across his face. "You’re not getting away that easily, Malfoy!"
They raced down the empty corridor, their feet pounding against the floor, each one trying to outrun the other. Ron’s voice broke the silence as he sang, laughing, "I close my eyes and I can see a world that's waiting up for me..."
Draco shot him a sly glance over his shoulder. "You’re way off-key, Weasley," he teased, but his smile betrayed him.
"And I call my own!" Ron sang louder, spinning in the hallway with dramatic flair.
But Draco, faster and lighter on his feet, pulled ahead, his laughter ringing through the night air. "You really think you can beat me?"
"Don’t get too cocky!" Ron shouted, pushing himself to catch up. The night was theirs, and there was nothing they couldn't do.
Just then, Draco’s voice rang out again, louder than before, "Through the dark, through the door, through where no one's been before!"
Ron’s heart raced—both from running and from something else that he couldn’t quite place. He pushed forward, determined, but Draco was still pulling away. He was almost at the corner of the hall when Ron finally reached him, his fingers brushing against Draco’s.
In one smooth motion, Ron leaped forward, his hand catching Draco’s wrist just as the blonde boy was about to turn the corner. "Gotcha!" Ron grinned, pulling Draco toward him with a gentle force, his hand tightening around Draco’s.
Draco let out a surprised laugh, stumbling slightly as Ron pulled him closer. For a split second, everything slowed—their eyes met, and their connection was undeniable. The music of the night seemed to fade into the background as they stood there, breathless and close, hands still intertwined.
Draco, still laughing, let himself be pulled in. "You’re lucky I let you catch me, Weasley."
Ron, still grinning, pulled Draco into a quick spin, their hands still locked. "You think you’re faster than me, but I had to show you who’s boss."
Draco grinned back, their faces only inches apart. "I’m not sure you’ll get away with that."
Without warning, they both burst into the final chorus, "We can live in a world that we design!" their voices harmonizing in the empty hall.
And as they spun, their laughter echoed through the ancient walls. It was a promise—a moment between two boys who, despite everything, had found something real in the madness of the night.
Finally, they both slowed, leaning against the stone wall, their hearts still racing from the run.
"You’re not so bad at this," Draco said softly, glancing sideways at Ron with a tender smile.
Ron gave him a cheeky grin, his hand still resting gently against Draco’s. "I know. I’m just full of surprises."
And in that quiet moment, Hogwarts felt a little more like home.

— ten years later —

The small apartment was quiet, the only sound coming from the gentle hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The light from the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. Draco and Ron lay next to each other on the bed filled with soft blankets, side by side, in the kind of comfortable silence that had settled between them in recent weeks.
Ron fidgeted with the edge of the pillow in his hands, glancing at Draco out of the corner of his eye. He’d been meaning to ask him this for a while, but every time the thought crossed his mind, he wasn’t sure if it was too soon or if Draco would think he was rushing things. But tonight, something felt different—right?
"Draco," Ron began, his voice quieter than usual. He cleared his throat and looked over at him, his eyes soft. "You know... this apartment, it’s not much. Just a small place. But it’s been home for me. And I was wondering..." He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Would you want to... move in with me?"
Draco blinked, surprised by the suddenness of the question. He turned toward Ron, meeting his eyes, his heart skipping a beat. Ron looked a little nervous, fiddling with the pillow, as if unsure of how the question would be received.
"Move in with you?" Draco echoed, his voice softer than he intended. He tried to gauge Ron’s expression, but there was no hiding the sincerity in his eyes.
Ron nodded, his fingers still picking at the fabric. "Yeah. I know it’s a big step, and this place is... well, it’s just an apartment, you know? But it’s mine. And I want you to be here with me. I’ve thought about it, and I can’t imagine being here without you."
Draco felt a rush of emotions, the warmth in his chest spreading through him. This was more than just moving in together. It was a commitment, a promise. And the thought of sharing his life, his space, with Ron felt... right. He’d never imagined it, but now that Ron had said it, he realized it was exactly what he wanted.
"You really want me to live here?" Draco asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His heart was pounding, but it was a good kind of nervousness.
"Of course," Ron said, his smile widening as he finally looked up at Draco, meeting his gaze. "It doesn't feel like home without you. I want us to be together—really together. And that means sharing this, even if it’s just this little apartment."
Draco’s smile grew, and he leaned forward, his breath catching in his chest as he reached for Ron’s hand. "I would love to move in with you," he said softly, the words coming easily now, like something he’d always known. "I think... I think it’s the next step for us."
Ron grinned, a look of relief washing over his face. He pulled Draco into a tight hug, squeezing him like he never wanted to let go. "This is really happening, then," he murmured into Draco’s hair. "I’m really happy you said yes."
Draco laughed softly, a feeling of warmth spreading through him as he wrapped his arms around Ron. "Of course, I said yes. This place—our place—is going to be perfect." He pulled back just enough to look at Ron, his smile bright. "Now, where do we start? Should I pack my stuff now ?"
Ron laughed, brushing a lock of hair out of Draco’s face. "We’ll figure it out. But first, let’s just enjoy this moment. We’re doing this together."
Draco nodded, “I'm just so excited, I love you” Draco kissed him before pulling back and kissing him deeper, Draco pulled back from the kiss, his lips starting to swell and glisten. He gazed up at Ron with lust-darkened eyes, a coy smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “If this is what I get for telling you good news, I need to do it more often,” Ron teased, still slightly breathless from their passionate make-out session.
“Oh hush,” Draco admonished playfully “now be a good boy and let me suck your cock.”
Ron flushed and groaned at the dirty words, his member twitching underneath Draco, the pretty Slytherin smirked, knowing exactly what effect he had on his lover. He trailed his lips down Ron's neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty skin. Draco knew all of Ron’s sensitive spots, and he made sure to linger on them, sulking and niping until Ron was writhing beneath him.
“Ah bloody hell” Ron gasped, head tilting back to give Draco better access, his hands came up to tangle in Draco's long silky hair, grip tightening as the blonde continued his sensual assault.
Draco worked his way down Ron’s chest, pausing to give attention to his nipples. He laved and suckled the hardened nubs until Ron was panting and cursing above him. Only then did he move lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses across Ron’s abs, following the trail of fiery red-trimmed hair down to the base of his cock.
“Merlin Draco, you’re killing me here” Ron groaned hips lifting in invitation his cock jutted proudly from a nest of red curls, flushed and weeping with arousal, Draco licked his lips hungrily, drinking in the sight of his lover’s straining erection.
“Patience love” Draco purred, finally taking pity on Ron. He leaned forward and dragged his tongue along the underside of Ron’s shaft, from root to tip. Ron jerked at the contact, a litany of curses spilling from his lips.
Emboldened, Draco wrapped one hand around Ron’s base, pumping slowly as he swirled his tongue around the leaking head. He lapped up the salty precum, savoring the taste of his lover. then, without warning. He swallowed Ron down to the hilt, nose pressed against neatly trimmed pubes.
“Fuck!” Ron cried out, hands flying to grip Draco’s hair, he couldn't believe how much he could take, how the head of his cock hit the back of his throat with every bob of his head.
Draco set a steady rhythm taking Ron as deep as he could before pulling back to lick and suck at the sensitive head. His free hand played with Ron's balls, rolling and massaging them in his palm. The dual stimulation had Ron seeing stars, his hips flexing up into Draco's mouth.
“Merlin Draco, your mouth…. It's fucking heaven” Ron panted fighting the urge to thrust mindlessly. He wanted this to last, wanted to prolong the pleasure as long as possible
Draco hummed in response to the vibrations sending shockwaves through Ron's shaft. He coils, feeling Ron getting close, his cock twitching and pulsing against his tongue Draco doubles his efforts, wanting nothing more than to taste his lover’s release.
With a final hard suck to the head, Ron came with a guttural shout. His hips jerked as he spurted hot seed down Draco's throat, the blonde swallowing every drop greedily Draco milked him through the aftershocks only pulling off when Ron slumped back against the bed, utterly spent.
“Bloody hell,” Ron breathed chest heaving, Draco crawled up his body smug and satisfied with himself he licked his lips, making sure he got every last drop of Ron's cum.
“There didn't I do a good job?” Draco purred nuzzling into Ron's neck. Ron wrapped an arm around him pulling him close.
“The best” Ron agreed, pressing a soft kiss to Draco's forehead. “But don't think you’re getting off that easy...”
Draco shivered, already feeling an arousal spike at the promise in Ron's words, trailing his fingers down Ron's chest “Why don't you show me what that talented tongue can do?”
Ron grinned wolfishly, rolling them over so that Draco was pinned beneath him. “Gladly,” He rumbled, before dipping his head between Draco's thighs

—one week later—

Ron stood in front of the mirror in his apartment, adjusting his collar for what felt like the hundredth time. His hands were shaking, but he tried to steady them. He was about to pick Draco up—no, they were going to pick up Draco’s things, together, to start their life in their new place. It should have felt exhilarating, but there was a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was the idea of moving in together, or something else entirely.
His gaze shifted to the drawer by the bed, the one he'd been keeping closed for weeks now. His fingers instinctively reached for the handle, and he slowly opened it, revealing the small velvet box nestled within. The engagement ring was still there, sitting in the dark, a secret he hadn’t shared with Draco yet.
Ron couldn’t help but smile at the thought of it—Draco’s reaction. His heart raced just the inking about how Draco would look, his eyes wide, a mix of surprise and joy as Ron dropped to one knee. It was supposed to be a grand moment, but Ron couldn't deny the nerves that flooded him whenever he thought about it. Would Draco say yes? Was he ready for this? Was he the man Draco deserved?
He picked up the ring, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat rising in his chest. It was beautiful—a simple silver band with a small diamond, just enough to symbolize their bond, their future. But was it not enough? Would Draco feel overwhelmed by this big step, or would he embrace it? Ron had never been one for grand gestures, but this—this needed to be.
The thought of Lucius Malfoy made Ron freeze for a moment. The cold disdain in Lucius's eyes, whenever Ron was around, was something he could never forget. Today was no different—he could already feel the tension that would come when he walked through the doors of Malfoy Manor. The thought of facing Draco's father made his stomach churn. He wasn’t ready for that conversation, but this was it. No backing out now. He was going to face it all—Lucius, the judgment, the expectations. He had to prove that he could be the man Draco needed. That he could build a future worth having.
After a deep breath, he shoved the ring back into the drawer, closing it with finality. "Just focus on the moment," he whispered to himself. "Focus on getting Draco home."
With that, he grabbed his jacket, gave one last look at the apartment, and stepped out the door, heading for the car. It was time to start a new chapter. The fear of Lucius’s disapproval and the nerves about the ring would have to wait. Today was for Draco.

—one drive to Malfoy Manor later—

Ron knocked firmly on the grand doors of Malfoy Manor, his pulse quickening. This was it—the moment he and Draco would officially start their lives together.
The doors creaked open, revealing Lucius Malfoy standing tall, his piercing gaze immediately locking onto Ron with thinly veiled disdain. A slow, deliberate glare swept over him before Lucius spoke, his voice like ice.
“I assume you’re here for Draco.”
Ron squared his shoulders, refusing to shrink under the weight of Lucius’s presence. “Yes, sir. I am.”
Lucius scoffed. “He’ll be back, once he realizes you can give him nothing. He’ll come running back to a life you could never provide—a life he deserves.”
Ron’s jaw tightened, but before he could fire back, movement on the grand staircase stole his attention.
Draco.
Descending the stairs effortlessly, dressed in a soft green turtleneck and fitted jeans—muggle clothes. Ron couldn't help but smile at the sight. Draco always looked effortlessly elegant, but something about seeing him like this, dressed for a future they were building together, sent warmth spreading through Ron’s chest.
And then Draco’s eyes met his, and in that single moment, Ron knew.
Draco wasn’t going to change his mind. He wasn’t going to stay trapped in the expectations of his family. He was choosing Ron.
Lucius’s disapproval faded into the background as Draco reached the bottom of the stairs, his smile small but genuine. His packed bags sat neatly by the door, a quiet testament to the fact that he was truly leaving.
Narcissa Malfoy stood beside them, her hands lightly resting on one of the trunks. As Draco approached, she pulled him into a tight embrace, whispering against his hair.
“I’m going to miss you, Dragon.”
Draco closed his eyes, holding onto her for a moment longer than usual. “I’m going to miss you too, Mum.” His voice was steady, but Ron could hear the emotion beneath it.
She pulled back, composing herself with a smile before turning toward Ron. “Oh! I have a gift for you both.”
With a graceful flick of her wand, two small silver boxes materialized in her palm. She turned to Ron with an expectant look.
“Ron, come here for me, dear.”
Ron hesitated for only a moment before stepping past Lucius, who let out a barely audible scoff. He ignored it. Nothing was going to ruin this moment.
“Yes, ma’am?” he asked.
She handed him one of the boxes and passed the other to Draco. “Go on now,” she urged, eyes twinkling with something unreadable.
Draco opened his first. Inside was a stunning silver necklace with a delicate pendant, an intricate fusion of the Malfoy and Weasley family crests. The design was seamless as if their two worlds had always been meant to intertwine.
Ron swallowed hard as he lifted the lid of his box. Inside, nestled in soft velvet, was a golden brooch, the same crest woven elegantly into its design. It was beautiful—far more expensive than anything he had ever owned. He ran a thumb over the smooth surface, his heart pounding.
“It’s beautiful, Miss—” He hesitated, shaking his head. “But I—I couldn’t take this.”
Narcissa let out a soft, knowing sigh, rolling her eyes fondly. “Oh, nonsense,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I had it custom-made just for you.”
Ron blinked at her, speechless. No one had ever given him something like this before—something not just valuable but meaningful.
Draco reached over, his fingers brushing against Ron’s. His voice was soft but certain. “Take it, Ron.” A pause. Then, even softer, “You’re part of this family now.”
Ron exhaled shakily, his fingers tightening around the brooch. He looked at Draco—at the man who was choosing him, at the mother who, in her own way, was welcoming him, Ron stared down at the brooch in his hands, his fingers tracing the intricate design of the combined Malfoy and Weasley family crests. The weight of it felt heavier than gold—it felt like acceptance, like belonging. He had never owned something so fine, something so deliberately chosen just for him. His throat tightened.
“I—I thank you, ma’am. I love it.” He lifted his gaze, offering Narcissa a grateful smile.
She beamed at him, clearly pleased with his reaction. “Oh, I knew you would! I am amazing at picking jewelry, after all.”
Draco turned his pendant over in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship, the careful blending of his lineage with Ron’s. He looked up at his mother, his normally composed features soft with genuine appreciation. “It’s beautiful, Mother. Thank you so much.”
Narcissa gave a satisfied nod. “I had to give you both something to remember us by—something that carries both your past and your future.” Her smile grew mischievous. “Molly and I designed it together.”
Both boys snapped their heads up, eyes wide.
“You talked to Miss Weasley?!” Draco blurted.
Ron’s jaw practically dropped. “You talked to my mum?!”
Narcissa gave an exasperated sigh, waving a manicured hand. “Honestly, you two act like it’s so unthinkable. She’s going to be your mother-in-law, which makes her family. I can’t possibly hate someone who will be so important in your life.” She smirked slightly. “So, I called her over for tea, told her about my idea for the jewelry, and she loved it. Long story short, we designed them together, and now we have a book club once a week.”
Draco looked dumbfounded. “You… have a book club? With Molly Weasley?”
Ron, still trying to process this, just shook his head. “Blimey.”
Narcissa lifted her chin, looking quite pleased with herself. “Yes, and we are thriving, thank you very much. We’ve just finished Pride and Prejudice, and Molly has some very strong opinions about Mr. Darcy, I must say.”
Ron ran a hand through his hair, still in disbelief. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
Draco smirked, slipping his pendant around his neck. “Well, at least now we know where we’ll find them on Wednesday afternoons.”
Lucius, who had been silently fuming in the background, finally spoke. “This is absurd.” He gave Narcissa a look of disbelief. “A Malfoy and a Weasley reading together?”
Narcissa merely patted his arm. “Oh, hush, dear. Go complain to someone who cares.”
Draco snickered as Ron tried (and failed) to stifle his laughter.
Lucius scowled, crossing his arms. “Ridiculous.”
Narcissa ignored him and turned back to the boys, her expression softening. “Now, you two had better get going before the house elves pack up half the manor into your bags. I told them to keep it light, but, well…” She gestured toward the absurd amount of trunks stacked by the door.
Draco rolled his eyes. “Mother, we’re moving into a flat, not a castle.”
“Yes, yes, but you must have options, darling,” she said with a knowing smile. “Now, off you go. And don’t be strangers, or I will show up unannounced.”
Draco wrapped his arms around one of Ron's, Ron laughed shaking his head with a grin. “I’d actually like to see that.”
Draco smirked as they stepped toward the door. “Oh, trust me, you really wouldn’t.”
With a flick of his wand, the towering stack of luggage shrank down until the bags could fit neatly into his pocket. He patted them once before turning back to his parents. His gaze softened as he took in his mother’s warm expression, the fondness in her eyes.
“I love you,” he said, his voice quieter now, but full of meaning.
Narcissa smiled, stepping forward to cup his cheek briefly. “I love you too, darling. Always.”
Lucius scoffed, arms still crossed, his expression unreadable. “You’ll be back.”
Draco sighed, the weight of his father’s expectations pressing on him one last time. But this time, it didn’t shake him. He met Lucius’s gaze, unwavering.
“No, I won’t.”
With that, he turned, slipping his fingers through Ron’s, lacing them together like it was the easiest thing in the world. Ron gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as they stepped outside. The cool air hit Draco’s face, crisp and freeing, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
Ron unlocked the car, glancing over at Draco with a grin. “You ready?”
Draco slid into the passenger seat, looking over at the manor one last time before nodding. “More than ever.”
As Ron started the engine, Narcissa stood in the doorway, watching them go with a wistful smile. Lucius remained beside her, his expression tight as he stared after them.
Ron reached over, squeezing Draco’s knee as they pulled away. “So… what’s the first thing we do in our new home?”
Draco smirked, turning to him with a glint in his eye. “Unpack? Or christen every room?”
Ron nearly swerved off the road. “Merlin, Draco.”
Draco only laughed, leaning back in his seat, finally free

— 5 hours later—

The evening unfolded in a warm and comfortable rhythm. The house felt quieter than it had in weeks but in the best way. No work calls, no galas to attend, just them, together.
Ron had gone all out, preparing a simple yet hearty dinner—vegetable stew with his mom's homemade bread. He was careful to make sure everything was just right, but not to overdo it. The last thing he wanted was for Draco to think he was trying too hard. Still, he could hear Draco’s playful teasing in his head about how “Ron burned everything he cooks.” Ron smiled to himself as he added the finishing touches.
Draco sat on the couch, his legs stretched out and his arms casually draped over the backrest, a wineglass dangling from his fingers. He was wearing one of Ron’s old oversized sweaters, and the sight of him, so relaxed and at home, made Ron’s heart skip a beat.
“Is dinner ready yet?” Draco called teasingly, his voice light and carefree.
Ron peeked over his shoulder, flashing a grin. “Just about. You’re not getting out of helping clean up after, though.”
“I’ll supervise,” Draco quipped, his lips curling into a playful smirk.
“Good enough,” Ron muttered, setting the last bowl of stew on the table.
As he joined Draco on the couch, the cozy atmosphere surrounding them made everything feel...right. He sat beside Draco, trying not to notice how natural it felt. His heart warmed as if everything was falling into place.
Draco took a spoonful of the stew, his expression unreadable for a moment. Ron watched, anxious, before Draco raised an eyebrow in feigned surprise. “Not bad, Weasley. You’re not as hopeless as I thought.”
Ron let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “See? I told you. I can cook.”
Draco put his spoon down, his smile widening, and leaned back, his body molding into the couch. “You know, this might be my new favorite meal. For someone who claims to ruin everything in the kitchen, you’ve outdone yourself.”
Ron laughed, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
After a few more bites, Draco leaned in closer, a more relaxed expression settling over his face. “So, tell me. What exactly did you do to make all of this?” He gestured around them—at the food, the house, and everything in between.
Ron, still beaming, picked up his wineglass. “Well, I had some help from the local store,” he said wryly, “but mostly, I just did what I thought would make this...us.” He hesitated for a moment, his hand brushing against Draco’s. “You’ve made it easy, you know?”
Draco met his gaze, the soft amber glow from the fire flickering across his features. “I think we’ve both made it easy. I was worried at first—about everything, really—but now...this feels good.”
Ron squeezed his hand lightly, his voice quiet. “It does. It feels perfect.”
For a while, they continued eating, the silence filled with little more than the clink of silverware and the occasional chuckle or comment about the film they’d planned to watch later. It was simple, but the simplicity of it made everything feel more meaningful.
Draco reached over after a few more bites and picked up Ron’s hand, resting it comfortably on his leg. “You know, I think you might be a romantic after all,” he said softly, tracing a manicured finger over the back of Ron’s hand.
Ron chuckled, rubbing the back of Draco’s hand. “I have my moments.”
“Clearly.” Draco’s voice held a teasing edge, but there was something softer underneath it—something more genuine. “You know, it’s not a bad thing. I didn’t expect you to be so... thoughtful.”
Ron met his eyes, the affection in his gaze mirroring Draco’s. “Well, I do try. Especially for you.”
They sat there for a while longer, talking about little things—books they wanted to read, movies they hadn’t seen in ages, silly childhood stories they had yet to share, like the time Pansy made Blaze walk around in heels and he almost broke his ankle. Or the time Harry spilled water on one of Hermione’s books and she almost killed him. It wasn’t a groundbreaking conversation, but in that moment, it felt like they were building something bigger, something lasting.
As the evening wore on, they found themselves curled up together under the worn knitted blanket on the couch, Draco’s head rested on Ron’s shoulder, his breath steady as the world outside continued its quiet rhythm. The house was warm, the kind of warmth that only felt like home when shared.
Draco’s voice, though soft, cut through the silence. “I don’t know what I was so worried about all this time. This...us. It’s more than I expected.”
Ron smiled down at him, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in that way that only Draco could evoke. “I’m glad,” he whispered. “It’s more than I expected, too.”
“I’m serious,” Draco continued, his tone light but with an underlying depth. “This...this is what I’ve been wanting all along. A life with you. No drama, no worries—just... us.”
Ron shifted slightly, his arm moving around Draco’s shoulder to pull him closer. “Well, that’s exactly what I want too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Draco’s head.
Draco sighed contentedly, closing his eyes for a moment as the quiet settled around them. “Then let’s make sure it stays that way.”
Ron couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah. I think we’ve got something good here.”

— One week later —

Draco sat cross-legged on the couch, scowling at the long platinum strands of his hair as they slipped from his fingers yet again. He had been trying—failing, really—to braid it for the past twenty minutes. His normally steady hands, the same ones that had once delicately prepared potions and gripped a Quidditch broom with precision, were now betraying him at every turn.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, exasperated, tossing his comb onto the coffee table. “How do people do this?”
Ron, sprawled out beside him with a worn Percy Jackson book resting on his chest, looked up at Draco’s predicament. He smirked, amusement dancing in his freckled face.
“You alright there, princess?”
Draco turned to glare at him, strands of unbraided hair falling in front of his face. “No, Ronald, I am not alright. My hair is a menace, and I’m on the verge of setting it on fire.”
Ron snorted, snapping his book shut. “Alright, let’s not do anything drastic.” He scooted closer, resting his chin on Draco’s shoulder as he peered at the mess of hair. “You’re overthinking it.”
Draco sighed heavily. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
“Oi.” Ron nudged him playfully before reaching out and running a hand through Draco’s hair, untangling a few loose strands with a gentleness that made Draco’s breath hitch. “Here, let me do it.”
Draco turned to raise an eyebrow at him. “You?”
Ron huffed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, me.” He leaned back, rubbing his hands together like he was preparing for battle. “Ginny used to make me braid her hair all the time when we were kids. Said I was hopeless at it, but after years of practice, I got pretty decent.”
Draco still looked unconvinced. “You expect me to believe you’re secretly a braiding expert?”
Ron smirked. “You could keep struggling and possibly hex yourself bald, or…” He patted the couch beside him. “You could sit here and let your wonderful, charming, devastatingly handsome boyfriend take care of it.”
Draco rolled his eyes but, after a moment, gave in with a dramatic sigh. He turned his back to Ron and settled between his legs, crossing his arms. “Fine. But if you pull too hard, I swear to Merlin—”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll hex me into next week. Got it.”
Ron ran his fingers through Draco’s hair first, gently combing through the strands to smooth them out. Draco’s shoulders, tense from frustration, slowly relaxed as Ron’s warm hands worked with careful precision. It wasn’t just the sensation—it was the tenderness of it, the way Ron handled him like he was something precious.
Ron’s fingers expertly sectioned Draco’s hair, twisting and weaving with a skill that honestly should not have surprised Draco as much as it did.
Draco closed his eyes, leaning into Ron’s touch. “How do you know how to do this so well?”
Ron chuckled, his breath warm against Draco’s neck. “Like I said, Ginny made me practice. And when you grow up with a mum like mine, you pick up a thing or two.”
Draco hummed, allowing himself to enjoy the moment. He would never admit it aloud, but there was something incredibly soothing about having Ron braid his hair. The way his fingers moved with certainty, the warmth of his touch, the casual way he pressed a kiss to Draco’s shoulder in between movements—it all made Draco feel… safe.
“Done,” Ron murmured after a few minutes, securing the end of the braid with a small tie.
Draco reached back to feel it, fingers brushing over the neat plait. He turned his head, lips quirking into a small, reluctant smile. “Huh.”
Ron smirked. “Told you.”
Draco turned fully to face him now, tilting his head slightly. “You’re annoyingly good at this.”
Ron shrugged, grinning. “It’s a gift.”
Draco rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away as Ron reached out to tuck a loose strand behind his ear. “I suppose I should keep you around, then.”
Ron’s expression softened, his hand cupping Draco’s cheek. “Yeah, you should.”
Draco leaned in without thinking, pressing a kiss to the corner of Ron’s mouth before settling against him, his head resting against Ron’s chest.
For a moment, they just sat there, wrapped up in the quiet warmth of their apartment, the only sound being the distant ticking of the clock on the wall.
Draco sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I like this.”
Ron ran a hand up and down his back, holding him close. “Me too.”
And as they sat there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, Draco thought that maybe—just maybe—this tiny apartment, with its mismatched furniture and secondhand trinkets, was exactly where he was meant to be.

—- 2 weeks later—

Ron had known for a long time that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Draco. There was no question in his mind about that. But with Draco being at work today and Ron having a rare moment of solitude, he found himself standing in the grand entryway of Malfoy Manor, his heart pounding in his chest.
He had spent the morning pacing around the apartment, finally deciding that today was the day. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He had to ask for their blessing.
His eyes nervously traced the ornate details of the hallway as he waited, unsure if he was being too forward. The echo of his footsteps in the vast space reminded him just how out of place he felt here, surrounded by the cold elegance of the Malfoy estate.
Moments later, Narcissa Malfoy appeared at the top of the stairs, her footsteps light as she descended with an air of grace. Lucius, as usual, was nowhere to be seen, which was exactly what Ron had hoped for. The tension between them had always been thick, and the last thing he needed was for Lucius’s disapproving stare to make him second-guess himself.
“Ron,” Narcissa greeted with a warm smile as if she could sense his anxiety. “What brings you here today?”
Swallowing his nerves, Ron stepped forward, trying to keep his voice steady. “I, uh... I wanted to talk to you and Lucius. About something important.”
Her brow arched slightly, though her smile never faltered. “Well, if it’s something important, I’m sure Lucius would be happy to hear it. But he’s with a business partner, at the moment. sit with me.” She gestured to a nearby set of chairs by the grand fireplace.
Ron hesitated but nodded, following her into the sitting room. Once seated, he fidgeted with his hands for a moment before finally pulling out the small velvet box from his pocket. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he fought to keep his voice calm. “I’m asking Draco to marry me,” he said, the words tumbling out faster than he intended.
Narcissa’s eyes widened slightly, though her expression softened quickly. “Oh,” she said softly, her smile turning more genuine. “That is wonderful. You love him deeply, don’t you?”
“I do,” Ron said, his voice firm with conviction. “I want to spend the rest of my life with him. But I... I need your blessing, both of you. I need to know that you support us.”
Narcissa studied him for a moment, her gaze assessing but not unkind. “You’ve come here for approval then? To ask us if you’re worthy of our son?”
Ron nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. “I know I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes, and I don’t come from a wealthy family. But I love Draco more than anything in this world. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make him happy.”
There was a long silence as Narcissa looked him over, her thoughtful expression unreadable. Then, to Ron’s surprise, she smiled gently. “You’re not the first to ask for our blessing. And you won’t be the last. But what I see in you, Ron, is a genuine love for our son. And that’s all we can ever ask for, really.”
Ron felt a weight lift off his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been dreading this moment. But now, with Narcissa’s kind words, he could breathe again.
“But,” she continued, her smile slipping just a little, “I must admit, there is one thing that remains. Lucius is... a different matter. He does not share my sentiment as easily.”
Ron’s stomach clenched. Of course. He had been expecting this, but hearing it from Narcissa made it even more daunting. “I know. But if you can support us... if you can show him how much this means to me, maybe he’ll come around.”
She nodded slowly, as though weighing his words carefully. “I’ll do what I can. But know this, Ron—we may be from different worlds, but if you truly love him, you have my blessing.”
Ron’s heart swelled with relief. He couldn’t have asked for a better response from her. “Thank you, Narcissa. I... I really mean it. This means more than you know.”
As he stood to leave, Narcissa placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I know it’s a big step, but if you’re sure this is what you want... then I believe it is the right choice for you both.”
Ron nodded, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sure.”
With a final nod, he turned to leave, his thoughts swirling with excitement and nervousness. He knew that this wasn’t the end of the journey—it was just the beginning. But at least now, he had Narcissa’s blessing, and that meant the world to him.

— 6 hours later —

The scent of something burning filled the kitchen.
Draco curled up on the couch with a book, lifted his head, and sniffed the air. A smirk tugged at his lips as he heard Ron cursing under his breath, followed by the distinct sound of a pan being yanked off the stove. Setting his book aside, Draco padded into the kitchen, where he was met with the sight of Ron waving a dish towel at a slightly charred meal.
“Everything going well, darling?” Draco drawled, leaning against the counter, arms crossed in amusement.
Ron turned to him, cheeks flushed from the heat of the stove—or possibly embarrassment. “It was going fine until the bloody pan decided to turn against me.”
Draco hummed, shifting his reading glasses before stepping forward to peer at the food. “Ah yes, I see. The pan's fault, of course.”
Ron shot him a look before huffing a laugh. “I was trying to make your favorite, y’know.”
Draco softened, shifting on his tiptoes before looping his arms around Ron’s waist from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous. But also very sweet.” He pressed a quick kiss to Ron’s jaw. “Shall I rescue dinner, or are we surrendering to take away?”
Ron exhaled dramatically. “I vote for takeaway. And next time, you’re cooking.”
“Fine,” Draco agreed easily. “But I expect to be showered with compliments while I do so.”
Ron grinned, turning in Draco’s arms to face him properly. “I already do that, Malfoy.”
Draco hummed in agreement as Ron reached for his hand, absentmindedly tracing over his fingers. They stood there for a moment, the burnt meal entirely forgotten, just existing in the quiet warmth of their home.
“You know,” Draco murmured, “I don’t need anything extravagant, Ron. I like things just as they are. Just you and me, a cozy little life.”
Ron swallowed, something unreadable flickering in his expression before he covered it up with a smile. “Yeah. Just you and me.” He kissed Draco softly, but even as their laughter filled the kitchen.
A short while later, the takeaway arrived, and Ron insisted on setting everything up properly on the coffee table, despite Draco’s teasing about his “domestic instincts.” They settled onto the couch, Draco’s bare legs draped over Ron’s lap, as they unwrapped their meal.
Draco flicked on the television and navigated straight to one of his favorite fashion shows. The extravagant designs and sharp critiques had him enthralled within minutes, while Ron, between bites, gave dramatically over-the-top commentary just to make Draco roll his eyes and swat at him.
“You’ve got to admit,” Ron said around a mouthful of food, “that bloke’s outfit looks like he was attacked by a flock of particularly angry peacocks.”
Draco gasped in mock outrage. “That ‘bloke’ happens to be a visionary, Weasley.”
Ron snorted but let it slide, smiling as he watched Draco’s eyes light up with every new design. He wasn’t particularly interested in fashion, but he loved seeing Draco so animated, so happy.
As the night stretched on, they grew sleepier, Draco eventually curling into Ron’s side, half-watching, half-drifting off. Ron pressed a kiss to his temple, arms tightening around him as he whispered, “Just you and me.”
Draco, eyes closed, murmured back, “Just us.”
And for now, that was enough.