Bloom

“He can’t go.”

“I know.”

“So why don’t we just stop him?” Blaise sighed through his nose and absentmindedly trailed his hands up Draco’s sides as he sat on top of him, but mostly out of habit than desire. The curtains were pulled closed around them as they lounged in Draco’s bed an hour before detention. “Kidnap him off the train…make him go with us.”

“Kidnap him,” Draco repeated as a scoff, “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious,” Blaise replied, digging his fingers deep into Draco’s waist, “We don’t tell him. Before the train gets to London we grab him and drag him to the luggage cart, then we step out and I apparate with him.”

“No,” Draco said flatly.

“Come on, he probably wants to but thinks he can’t.” Blaise sighed again, his thumbs rubbing circles against Draco’s skin. “As soon as he gets there-”

“You can’t apparate with someone against their will,” Draco pointed out, “He’d get splinched. Especially since he’s already weak from his injuries.”

“Oh,” Blaise replied sadly, his shoulders dropping. He met Draco’s eyes with a defeated expression. “Draco, I don’t want him to go.”

“Me either,” Draco murmured. Then sighed. “Come here, we have forty-five minutes before we have to go.” He reached out and grabbed the back of his best friend’s neck as he leaned down. They attacked each other’s mouths with vigor, both needing the release of tension hey had been holding all day.

Rocking his hips in a slow rhythm, Blaise moaned lightly into Draco’s mouth, only to gasp when Draco sat up very suddenly and grabbed his hips, forcing him onto the bed and taking his place on top of him. Blaise pressed his lips back against Draco’s as he laid down, pulling the blonde with him.

Draco was dreading this detention. Mostly because he had no idea how Ron was going to be. If he would ignore him, or if he would try to argue. Or there was even the faintest possibility that he would tell them that he changed his mind. That he would go with them.

Make the right choice.

When Draco entered the classroom he saw that Ron was, once again, early. Draco suspected he did this to avoid him.

So he took a seat behind Ron, so that the Gryffindor would feel his eyes boring into him from behind.

They worked on assignments for about fifteen minutes before Professor McGonagall left them to their own devices. When she left, Blaise immediately showed up. When the door shut behind him, Draco stood.

“So?” he demanded, walking around the table to stand in front of Ron. The redhead looked exhausted, and frazzled, as though he had not slept. It made Draco’s heart ache.

“Please don’t yell at me again,” Ron replied shakily, not looking up. He fiddled with his quill.

“I won’t,” Draco promised, “I just want to know, Ron. Break starts in three days. Are you coming with us, or not?”

“I don’t know,” Ron whispered, “I really don’t. You act like this is an easy decision but…it…it’s not. Neither of you would hesitate to side with the other, would you?” He asked this a bit firmly and looked at each of them slowly. “Would you?” he repeated.

“No,” Blaise muttered, looking caught.

“No,” agreed Draco, taking a step forward, “But I wouldn’t expect Blaise to kill himself for me. I would expect him to save his own ass because I love him, and I want him in my life!”

Ron stood. “You said you wouldn’t yell at me,” he responded pitifully, “Draco…I love you…I do, and I’ve known it, and you’ve known it…but you know what else we both knew? That we are on different sides. And that’s why we had rules and…and you’re not allowed to tell me what I can and can’t do when it comes to my loyalty to…” he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Draco,” Blaise murmured next to him. A gentle warning. That they were breaching bad territory. They were getting to the point of saying unforgivable things.

“If I didn’t have to do this,” Ron finally continued softly, “I wouldn’t even have to think twice about going with you two. I wouldn’t even say goodbye to my family. I would just go with you, you know I would. I know that because when you told me about it in the first place you didn’t even act like I would say no. I could tell. So you know that’s true, Draco. I want to. I want to be alone with you all the time so badly it kills me. And it breaks my heart. But…I have to do this. This…this is my task. And I have to do it.”

Draco stared at him in silence. He felt numb. He knew Ron was right. Of course he knew that. But it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t soften the blow. He looked over at Blaise, who looked equally broken-hearted.

“Please don’t do it, Ron,” Blaise begged, “Please.”

Tears were pooling in the corners of Ron’s eyes now. Draco sighed, a little angrier than he’d intended, and took another step toward Ron. He reached out and snatched his tie, yanking him forward.

“I don’t accept it,” he growled, getting close to the Gryffindor’s heated face, “You can say it all you want, but I still expect you to consider your choices, all the way until the train gets to London. I expect you to think. To think about what you want. Understood?” Ron bit his lip, nodding. Draco pushed their mouths together aggressively, reaching out to grab Blaise and pull him over.

“Even after,” Blaise whispered carefully, placing a hand on Ron’s waist, and the Gryffindor looked up, catching his breath. “If you change your mind. Send a letter, and I’ll open the Floo, okay?”

Three days later, Blaise was anxiously jiggling his leg as he sat on the Hogwarts express. He shifted his weight again, folding and unfolding his arms. He had been this way for the past seventeen minutes, according to Draco’s impeccable timekeeping. With an aggravated noise between a sigh, a scoff, and a groan, Draco reached into his fur-lined inner robe pocket and pulled out a metal flask.

“Would you fucking drink this? You’re driving me mental.” He thrust the flask into his best friends’ hands.

“What is up with you two?”

Draco looked up at Pansy. “Nothing,” he replied shortly, flipping his head to move a lock of hair from his eye. “Why?”

“You’ve been acting weird,” she replied with a shrug. “And you two are always off somewhere.”

“Class and practice?” Blaise asked with a snide chuckle as he unscrewed the lid to the flask, letting it drop with a ‘tink!’ against the side. He rolled his eyes; he’d never enjoyed Pansy’s company.

“Whatever,” Pansy sighed with a rival eye roll.

Blaise smiled at Draco as he took a large swallow of the warm, sweet whisky. When he handed the flask back, Draco brushed his finger over the top of Blaise’s hand comfortingly. The train was due to arrive in London in twelve minutes. He was nervous, too, but did not want to show it. Actually, what he really wanted to do was walk the seven compartments down to where Ron was, grab him, and fuck him until he promised he would go with them. Fuck him right in front of his friends, nonetheless.

But that seemed a bit excessive.

Draco focused on his breathing, an easier task than trying to figure out what Ron was going to do.

He had not shown up on Saturday, or Sunday for detention, and Draco had not asked where he was. They saw each other in the halls, and Ron often glanced at them sadly, pleadingly. Asking them to understand. To still love him, even if he made the wrong choice.

The train slowed to a stop, and Blaise immediately got to his feet. Draco rose, not as slowly, and told Pansy to have a good holiday before they swept out the compartment door. As they did, they heard a familiar laugh. The Slytherins’ heads snapped to the left so quickly that Draco heard his crack. Ron stood with his friends in the disorganized cluster of the train’s walkway. Draco’s jaw clenched when he saw Potter’s hand on Ron’s waist as he said something close to his ear.

Something that made Ron blush.

Until he looked up, right at Draco, who stared back at him darkly.

“Let’s go,” Draco muttered.

“Draco-”

“Let’s go,” Draco repeated, each word enunciated crisp, and harsh. Turning to the right and storming through the crowd to make his way to the first exit he saw, Blaise was right behind him, his exterior cool and collected, but Draco could sense his nerves. He could see the way the muscle in Blaise’s neck twitched, the way it always did when he was tense.

When they got off the train, Draco instinctively glanced around for his parents, before remembering that they would not be there.

Both he and Blaise hesitated. They both wanted to look over at Ron, to see where he was and which way he was going, but neither of them wanted to take the risk. Instead, Draco glanced around for any other Weasley he could find.

However, there were none. He saw no other red head aside from Susan Bone’s and her family. (But theirs was dull, and more copper-toned than Ron’s.) Who he did see, however, were two members of the Order. Blaise spotted them at the same time Draco did, and they paused, glancing at each other with narrowed eyes. There was their old, werewolf professor, Lupin. The one Draco’s father had encouraged to be dismissed. And then someone Draco had seen only a few times, a metamorphagus. Nymphadora Tonks. Her hair was far too neon blue for Draco’s taste, and his nose scrunched in disgust as he stared at her. Moments later, Ron was approaching the two members comfortably. As well as Potter, who hugged the old professor.

“Draco…” Blaise murmured once again.

“It’s over, Blaise,” Draco replied, “He made his choice.”

“For now,” Blaise pointed out, “You’re telling me we’ll turn him away if he changes his mind and shows up?”

“He won’t.”

They did not see or hear from Ron for a week. One long, cold week. Draco and Blaise still enjoyed themselves, shagging in every room and on every surface of the large house that they could. Drinking from Ms. Zabini’s extensive gin and wine collection (all her duplicates, of course, they did not want to pilfer too much). They spent a lot of time lounging in Blaise’s master bedroom, wrapping themselves up in thick blankets and watching the snow fall from his terrace balcony, then warming up inside by the fire.

It was soothing, and passionate. They enjoyed each other immensely.

But they both felt it.

They missed Ron. They wished he was there.

They both worried, but never voiced their concern aloud. But they could hear it in the air late at night as they curled up into each other. They wondered where he was. If he was okay. If he was even alive.

“You’re so warm,” Draco murmured one night, kissing Blaise’s shoulder, then his neck, as they stood under the thick, black wool blanket on the balcony. With his bare chest pressed against his best friend’s nude back, he could feel the heat radiating from him in a pleasant way as they stood in the falling snow.

“I’m freezing,” Blaise whispered, turning around to face him as Draco held the blanket around them, “Let’s go inside,” he whined, but planted a small kiss on Draco’s lips, “I’m-” he was cut off when a miniature barn owl fluttered ahead, and then dropped to the ground, before flitting back up and shaking itself off. Its note had already fallen from its beak. Blaise bent down and picked it up, quickly slipping back inside the blanket. He and Draco moved into the house quickly and dropped the blanket onto the cold wood floor. They moved to the front of the fireplace and unraveled the note.

I’m coming.

“Oh my God,” Blaise blurted, his eyes wide as he looked at Draco. “What…”

Draco’s throat had gone dry. He exhaled heavily through his nose. But he could not hold back any longer. He cleared his throat, then breathed a sigh of relief.

“He’s coming.”

Blaise smiled, then looked at the fireplace. With a few steps, he went to the sconce and grabbed a handful of Floo powder, then tossed it firmly into the flames, which then turned into a comforting emerald green. They both stared into it for several moments.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Blaise asked anxiously, tearing his eyes from the flames.

“I don’t know,” Draco replied, “I hope so. But…we should consider the fact that he might not be.”

They stayed by the fire. Fifteen minutes passed. Then thirty. They sat in the cushioned chairs and waited. After forty-five minutes Draco went to grab them some drinks. As he walked back and set them on the small end table between their seats, the fireplace surged. And only seconds later, Ron had materialized right in front of them.

“Ron!” Blaise exclaimed, jumping up.

Draco quickly evaluated him. He looked exhausted, like hadn’t slept in days, and he also looked terrified, and his eyes were rimmed red, and slightly puffy, as if he’d been crying. Other than that, he seemed unharmed. When Blaise was within reach of him, he threw his arms around him.

And he sobbed.

“What…” Blaise stammered, holding him even tighter, “What happened?” he looked desperately over at Draco, who joined them.

For several long minutes they held on to Ron, who did not loosen his grip on Blaise. If he could, he would probably have been holding tightly to Draco as well. But he kept his face buried into Blaise’s shoulder as painful sobs wracked his body. All Draco and Blaise could do was hold him. Keep their hands on him. Wait until the sobs turned into heaves, and then short, quiet gasps of air. When he seemed to finally be breathing at a somewhat steady pace, Draco decided to speak.

“Ron…what happened?”

“Come on,” Blaise added gently, “Come sit down. You’re freezing.”

Ron lifted his head, his face red and wet with tears. He let Blaise take him to the couch, where they sat. Draco knelt on the floor next to him and grabbed Ron’s hands. When he did, he felt how much Ron was shaking, and his hands felt like ice.

“I’m so sorry,” he said shakily, “I’m sorry I left you guys. I wanted to…I just…I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“Don’t start that,” Draco interrupted, “Not until you tell us if you’re okay.” He couldn’t hold it back any longer, and rose on his knees to press a gentle kiss against Ron’s lips, which were also ice cold. “What happened?”

Blaise reached for the thick woven blanket on he back of the couch and wrapped it around Ron, before giving him a kiss as well.

“I…” Ron sighed, “I couldn’t take it anymore. We just…we couldn’t get rid of the…the thing and…and it was haunting me…my thoughts were just…they didn’t feel like my own most of the time…I was…” he shook his head, “I was going mental. I kept getting these really horrible thoughts. It was like being around a dementor. Or hundreds. I wanted to…” he clamped his mouth shut, then said quietly, “I…just wanted it to all end and the thing kept telling me to-” he was cut off by another dry sob. Too cried out for more tears. “And then yesterday I…I was just in the kitchen at G-…at where we were staying and…” he let out a gasping, shaky sigh. “Then I just kept hearing you…you’re voices. Both of you. Telling me…my life’s important. And I had to get out of there. I wrote the note and I’ve just been trying to Floo out ever since, every time I had a moment alone.”

He looked at Draco with wide, watery eyes, and a quivering bottom lip.

“You’re always safe with me, Ron,” Draco said, grabbing his hand, “Remember?”

“Me too,” Blaise added with a smile, “You…us…we can always come here. You’re always welcome here.”

“I missed you,” Ron whispered, looking at both of them. “I missed you so much. You…you were the only reason I didn’t completely lose it.”

“God, Ron,” Draco breathed, standing up with a small smile and pulling the redhead with him, “Come here.” He yanked him close, pressing their mouths together. He unzipped Ron’s coat and slid it off of him. Behind him, Blaise was tugging up his shirt. Ron parted from Draco briefly to allow his shirt to be pulled off, then went right back to Draco’s mouth, breathing heavily against his lips.

“Why are you so cold?” Blaise murmured as he kissed Ron on the neck, then on the shoulder. He ran his hands up his sides, then rested his chin on his shoulder.

“I was-” Ron parted from Draco, “-walking with them and-” he groaned when Draco dipped his head and bit his neck, “-then turned, and walked back. Long walk.” He tilted his head to catch Draco’s lips again.

Draco smiled, and pulled away, stroking the side of Ron’s face. “We missed you, too,” he murmured, “But let’s warm you up.” He nodded toward the bed, and they all wandered to it, shoes and pants being kicked off.

They all slid into the double king bed, linking, and curling into each other, kisses being planted on shoulders and necks and cheeks. Ron continued to sigh happily, and eventually melted into the middle of the bed. He laid on his side facing Draco, draping an arm over his waist, and smiling at him as he rested his head on a silky pillow. Behind him, Blaise was pushed close, and resting his chin on Ron’s shoulder.

“Better?” Draco asked, “Warming up?”

“Mm,” Ron said, his eyes fluttering closed. This close, he looked even more exhausted. “Almost. Need more.”

Draco smiled when Blaise pulled another blanket over them, and pushed himself closer to Ron, who scooted close to Draco, now resting his head on his chest. “Needy,” Draco murmured, kissing the top of his head, “I missed that. I missed you. We both did.”

“Mm,” Ron murmured again, clear that he was barely listening as he melted into Draco’s chest.

“Go to sleep, Ron,” Blaise whispered, holding him tight, “We know you’re tired.”

“Mm, no,” Ron murmured groggily, “Not yet.”

“Yes,” Draco said gently, “You’re tired now because you’re safe. So sleep. We’re here. We’ll be here. We won’t move until you wake up, okay? Sleep.”

Draco wasn’t sure he had even finished his statement before Ron had indeed fallen asleep. His body was heavy against Draco’s, and his breathing was slow.

Ron did not wake until the next day early in the afternoon. Draco and Blaise, as they’d promised, remained in bed with him. Granted a few times that morning they had taken turns getting up to use the restroom and wash up.

When Ron finally did stir, he then sat up very abruptly with a gasp. Draco and Blaise followed.

“Relax,” Draco said gently, “You’re safe, remember?”

With a groan, Ron rubbed his face with his hands. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I forgot where I was for a minute.”

“It’s okay,” Blaise said gently, rubbing his back, “You just slept hard. That’s a good thing.”

“Ouch!” Ron whispered sharply a few minutes later.

“Sorry,” Draco murmured, still washing the same spot on Ron’s back where there was a deep, jagged, and red scratch. Ron could not recall how he’d received it but had agreed to let Draco wash it as they stood in the hot shower together with Blaise, who was now running his hands up Ron’s abdomen, toward his chest.

“You look so sexy when you’re wet,” he said with a cheeky grin, tilting his head forward to kiss Ron on the neck.

“So do you,” Ron replied with a pleased sigh, “I missed you. Both of you.”

“Ten days is too long,” Draco agreed, placing the soap back on the shelf, then slipping his hands around Ron’s waist, “You don’t get to go away again, you understand? You’re ours. You belong with us.”

“Always,” Blaise added, now moving from Ron’s neck to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on them, then pulled away. “Stay here.”

“I am,” Ron replied softly, “I’m here.”

“I mean permanently,” Blaise explained, kissing him again, “Stay here with me. My mum’s new fiancé lives in Jamaica. She’s always there. Plus, she knows about me and Draco, she’d be fine with you.”

Ron tilted his head with a frown. Then he opened the curtain and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel, and wiping his face before wrapping it around his waist. “But…I’m a Weasley,” he said slowly, “A blood traitor. It wouldn’t take her long to figure it out.”

“Ron,” Blaise said with a sigh, also stepping out of the shower, “My mum isn’t really like that. Not strongly. Plus, for her, I come first. If I love you, that’s all that matters.”

Ron looked bewildered, but then his lips curved into a crooked smile. “I can live here? No one would know?”

“No one would know,” Blaise said with a shrug, “The Zabini’s aren’t being tracked for any reason. We’ve always been right outside the war and all that. So…stay. There’s five weeks left of school anyway. You’re of age. No one would look for you here.”

“You could disappear,” Draco added thoughtfully, “You wouldn’t have to be at Potter’s side risking yourself every day. Stay here with us, safe. No one would know. And it can just be us.” He did not have the nerve to consider the fact that he himself would be the one risking himself. He was on the wrong side of the war. “Our own bubble. Just us.”

“Just us,” Ron repeated, blinking, “But…school…my things…my friends…what do I say?”

“You don’t,” Draco answered, “Don’t say anything. A lot of people are running from the war. And you don’t need your things. We can replace everything. You can have new things. Things that are your own. Things you actually like.”

“You don’t have to bribe me,” Ron said quietly with a pink blush.

“We’re not,” Blaise replied with a chuckle, grabbing Ron’s hand, “We love you. And that’s what people who love you do. Well, we do,” he looked at Draco, then back to Ron, “We like to buy things, so let us buy them for you. You deserve it. Plus,” he added with a giddy twinkle in his eyes, “I’ve been dying to get you in black.”

“Oh,” Ron said bashfully, “I guess…I mean…” he nodded, “Yeah. Okay. I’ll stay.”

Blaise converged on him, placing a passionate kiss against his lips while holding the sides of his face. Draco could hear Ron’s muffled chuckle. He walked over to slip a hand around the back of Ron’s neck and pull him away from Blaise’s mouth and to his.

“You better,” Draco growled when they parted, “You try running away from me again and I will hunt you down just to tell you it’s over.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Ron whispered, “I don’t want to feel that heartbreak again. I need to be with you. Being without you is no longer an option, Draco.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Draco said with a happy sigh, “Now come on.” He yanked the towel around Ron’s waist to the ground. “We’ve been waiting far too long.”

“It’s pretty,” Ron remarked quietly a couple of heated, exuberant hours later. He was staring out at the frozen pond that was in the back of Blaise’s house.

The Zabini’s property extended six acres from the back, and though their manor was in London, it was set back a few miles, led by a gravel road that passed by all the other modern-style mansions. The entire property was covered by lush trees and other vegetation, making everything private, with an air of ‘you only belong if you know where you are going.’

“You’re pretty,” Blaise retorted, standing next to him on the balcony only in his black satin boxers.

“You’re ridiculous,” Ron said with a roll of his eyes. He looked over at Draco, and shivered, also standing in only his underwear. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Bewildered, Draco blinked. “What? Nothing,” he smiled, “Just thinking how glad I am that you came back.” He took a few steps over to Ron and grabbed his waist. “Come on, let’s get back inside before you freeze to death.”

Once inside, the three of them went to the fireplace, lying on the floor in front of it atop a thick, furry black rug, with several blankets. Ron laid his head on Draco’s chest, with Blaise taking his position of holding Ron tightly from the back.

“You think this is still delusional?” Ron whispered.

“Maybe,” Draco replied with a chuckle, “But I’m supposed to let you stay delusional, right?”

“Right,” Ron answered, tightening his arm around Draco’s waist, “Our happy delusional bubble.”

“Exactly,” Blaise said softly, “And it’s perfect.”

“Perfect,” Ron agreed.

“You’re both perfect.”