Chapter 7
The path Draco walked after his divorce with Harry was painful but gradual. In the beginning, he couldn't quite escape the shadow of their failed marriage. The memories of how they had once been so in sync, the tenderness they'd shared in quiet moments, and the laughter they'd once had, felt so distant. Draco focused entirely on his kids, James and Lily, trying to provide them with the stability they needed. He wanted to shield them from the fallout of their parents’ fractured relationship.
But there was someone who had been there all along—Ron.
Ron had been a constant in Draco’s life, a steady presence in a world that felt like it was constantly shifting under his feet. They’d built a kind of friendship that neither of them had expected. It started slowly, with small conversations about the kids, about family, and about what life looked like after everything had fallen apart. They'd been through a lot together—fighting dark wizards, rebuilding after the war—and somewhere along the way, Ron’s feelings for Draco had deepened.
Ron had always cared for Draco, but after the divorce, those feelings evolved into something more. It wasn’t something that happened overnight; it was a slow burn, each encounter layering on top of the last until one day, it felt undeniable. Ron had been the one to stay after the dust had settled, the one who came over to help Draco with the kids, the one who listened to him vent after long days and nights when the weight of the divorce felt too much to bear. And in those quiet moments, when Draco was vulnerable and raw, Ron’s love for him became more than just a whisper in the back of his mind. It was real.
Draco was sitting in his living room one evening, absentmindedly picking at the sleeves of his sweater, when Ron showed up with takeout. “I thought you might like some company tonight,” Ron said, his voice warm, though there was a small, hesitant smile on his face.
Draco glanced up, giving him a small smile in return. “You know me too well.” He patted the spot next to him on the couch, and Ron slid down beside him.
For the next hour, they talked about the kids, about work, and about the little things that had been happening around the house. Ron made Draco laugh more than he had in weeks, the stress and loneliness that had been weighing him down melting away as they shared jokes and old memories. It felt safe, easy, and for the first time in a long while, Draco found himself genuinely enjoying Ron’s company.
As the night wore on, their conversation shifted. Ron hesitated before asking, “How are you, Draco? Really?”
Draco’s smile faltered, his eyes darting toward the floor. “I’m getting by. Just… trying to keep everything together for the kids.”
Ron placed his hand on Draco’s, a simple, tender gesture that surprised him. “You don’t have to do it all alone, you know. I’m here for you.”
The words sent a warmth through Draco’s chest, but it was more than that. He looked at Ron, really looked at him, and saw the way Ron’s eyes softened when he spoke, the sincerity in his voice. He had always known Ron cared for him, but it had never been this palpable, this... tangible.
“I know,” Draco whispered, his heart pounding. “I’ve… I’ve always appreciated you, Ron.”
Ron’s hand remained on his, their fingers brushing gently as he leaned in a little closer. “I’ve always cared for you, Draco,” he said quietly, his voice low and full of emotion. “More than you probably know.”
Draco felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in just slightly, their faces inches apart. Time seemed to stand still as they sat there, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air.
And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Ron closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Draco’s in a soft, tentative kiss.
It was nothing like what he’d shared with Harry. It wasn’t explosive or filled with desperation. It was quiet, a slow unfolding of something that had been quietly simmering underneath the surface for so long. When they finally pulled away, Draco’s eyes were wide, his heart racing, and Ron’s expression was full of something like hope.
“Ron, I…” Draco started, unsure how to voice what he was feeling.
“Don’t say anything,” Ron interrupted softly. “We’ve both been through too much for any of this to be rushed. I’m not going anywhere, Draco.”
And with that, a new chapter began, one that was full of tenderness and mutual respect. It wasn’t without its complications—there were still moments of doubt, moments where Draco worried about what Harry would think, or about how the kids would react—but it was real.
As time passed, Ron became more and more a part of Draco’s life. He helped with the kids, taking them to Quidditch matches, playing board games with them, and even helping them with their schoolwork. Slowly but surely, James and Lily began to look at Ron like a second father. They had already grown attached to him, and Draco could see the bond forming between them.
There were moments when Draco felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t meant for things to unfold this way, but as he watched Ron laugh with James, as he saw the way Lily would climb into Ron’s lap for a cuddle, Draco couldn’t help but feel a small sense of peace. It wasn’t what he had planned for his family, but it felt right.
One evening, while they were all sitting in the living room watching a movie, James turned to Draco and said, “Ron’s like the best uncle ever, isn’t he, Dad?”
Draco paused, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked at Ron, who was playfully ruffling James’s hair. “Yeah, I think he is,” Draco replied, his voice thick with emotion.
Ron caught Draco’s eye, and without a word, they both knew. It wasn’t just about being there for the kids anymore. It was about something deeper, something that had formed in the quiet spaces between them.
They were a family. A different kind of family than Draco had ever imagined, but one that felt full of love, acceptance, and healing.
And in those small moments, in the quiet evenings spent together, Draco found that maybe, just maybe, he had found something worth building again—something that had always been there, right in front of him, in the shape of a long-time friend who had always loved him, even before he knew how to love himself again.