[fic] and we go blindly into the night...
Feb. 19th, 2006 09:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notworthyand we go blindly into the night
Harry Potter, Ron/Draco, PG-13, 1,351 words.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cugami, whose Ron I love so much that it can only be expressed in squealing and loud 'oh my gods'. You said you wanted it, and I hope you like it. It's not quite finished- I want to work with it some more, but the idea is here.
He heard Hermione crying- he knew it was Hermione by the way her breath hitched in the way that she was trying not to cry, by the way she sniffed gently when she realized it was a fruitless attempt- and for one panicked moment, Ron was glad that he couldn’t see her. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see him like this- one of his eyes somewhere on the floor still, purposely told to him by Bellatrix Lestrange, her tone both patronizing and more than a little insane right by his ear.
“Sweet irony if you ended up stepping on it- a tiny squish under your boot,” she had said.
“You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means,” Ron had shot back, even though he had been shaking, even though he had been fucking terrified. It had been too much to hope that they would have killed him the moment they had him. That would have been merciful, but he had known that neither Bellatrix Lestrange nor Lucius Malfoy were very merciful people.
Malfoy’s soft chuckle and Lestrange’s cold hands on his face had been his only warning, but it had been enough of one- he hadn’t screamed when her fingers dug into his eye socket, her fingertips creating a wet ‘plop’ as she pulled on his eyeball as hard as she could.
That was important to tell Hermione. He had to tell her. “I didn’t scream when she took it out, or when they-“
“Oh, Ronald,” she interrupted, with the familiar emphasis on his name, but instead of annoyance, there was only sadness. He heard the rustle of her robe, and her footsteps as she ran towards him, and embraced him. Ron hadn’t known that Hermione actually smelt a bit like old books- but it was Hermione, and she was warm, and she was safe. Ron buried his face in her hair, barely feeling her hands smooth his hair down.
She was warm and safe, but not what he had been looking for.
“Ron- what were you even doing here?” she asked, her voice muffled, her lips moving against his ear, and he pulled away from her.
“I can’t- Hermione, I got to go-“
“No. Absolutely not, Ron. The only place that you’re going is to St. Mungo’s, and you are going, if I have to hex you unconscious and drag you there myself,” Hermione ordered, helping him stand.
Eyes or no, it had always been pointless trying to argue with Hermione.
***
St. Mungo’s was fully, but Ron couldn’t say that he was surprised by that. Once Voldemort had came back- officially, according to the Ministry of Magic- St. Mungo’s was always filled with people dying. Hermione had checked for Harry at St. Mungo’s obsessively, hoping that she wouldn’t hear his name.
Ron stood against the wall, and he knew that people were staring at him- the room was too quiet. So quiet that he could hear Hermione fighting with the woman at the front desk.
“You can’t help him at all?” Hermione hissed, but Ron’s not paying any real attention to them. He needed to leave- they were wasting time. He knew that Harry was fine- he had no proof, no, but somehow, he knew that his best mate was fine.
He needed to see Draco Malfoy, and wasn’t sure how he was going to explain that to Hermione.
“Hermione!” he barked out. A chair slid across the floor and hit the wall. “Let’s just go. They have other things to worry about.”
“Ron- are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” he replied, trying to smile to reassure her, but it felt weird on his face.
He waited for her to join him- she knew that he couldn’t figure the way out on his own. Her hand was tiny in his own- smaller than Draco’s, but just as delicate. The fact that he was even doing a comparison strengthened his resolve- he had to find Draco.
“Alright then,” she said, “Let’s go home.”
***
Home was a small two bedroom flat in muggle London. There were reminders that the war was going on there too, but it was the only place that either one of them felt remotely safe in anymore.
“Do- do you want to get in the shower, then?” Hermione questioned, speaking up for the first time since leaving St. Mungo’s.
“No. I’m going to go to bed, I guess. Try to get some sleep,” he lied easily.
“Alright. Good night, then,” Hermione muttered, and he felt her hand on his shoulders, before her lips brushed his cheek. He wondered how she could pair to touch him with the dried up blood on his face, and the fact that there were no pair of blue eyes staring back at her- it had to be eerie for her.
“Hermione?” he called out, hoping that she hadn’t left
“What is it Ron?”
“Thank you. For staying with me. It means- I really appreciate it.”
He’d like to imagine that she was smiling. “Would I really be anywhere else? Honestly, Ron, don’t you know any better?”
Ron couldn’t fight the urge to laugh- it was like being eleven all over again.
***
“Nox,” Hermione whispered sleepily from the next room. Ron relaxed- he thought that she would never have gotten to sleep.
He thought of Malfoy Manor- at least, how he knew it before Bellatrix Lestrange had taken his eyes and handed on to Lucius Malfoy as a gift…
Doing apparition without seeing where he ended up was going to be difficult. Ron just hoped that it would end up being worth it. He ignored the familiar pull of magic, just needing to get to Malfoy Manor.
He stumbled into the room, fairly sure that he still had the rest of his body parts. He looked around the room- purely on instinct. The sudden loud clunk of boots coming down the stair startled him- that was the exact same way Lucius had come down the stairs.
“Weasley, have you lost your bloody mind, coming here? You know- oh, fuck.”
Ron bowed his head down- maybe he should have taken that shower Hermione had offered him. He flinched when one of Draco’s arms went around his neck. The other went right to his cheek, but Ron grabbed his wrist before his fingers went up on his face any further. Vaguely, he wondered if his hands still had blood on them, but it was too late to do anything about it- his fingers were already gripping strands of Draco’s hair.
“I wanted to see you,” Ron admitted.
“And they took your eyes,” Draco replied flatly, but it almost sounded like he was crying.
“Yeah,” Ron said.
“You’re an idiot, Weasley,” Draco muttered.
“Yeah,” Ron repeated, and Draco sighed- not his usual haughty, ‘I’m-better-than-you-Weasley’ sigh, but one that simply said, ‘I don’t know what to do.’
Ron opened his mouth to say something to make the silence bearable, when Draco kissed him.
Ron had wanted to see him, and instead, found Bellatrix and Lucius- so they had taken his eyes with the intent for him to not see anyone, let alone Draco.
This though- being with Draco, knowing that Draco- even with his newest disability was there- it didn’t make it worth it, or even better, but it was a nice start.
“Come on Weasley- you need a bath. You know the battle weary look does nothing for me,” Draco joked.
“Whatever- everything about me does it for you,” Ron shot back, grateful that Draco wasn’t going to dwell on it. They couldn’t- it had happened, and Ron wasn’t going to let that define the rest of his life, not when Voldemort was trying to do it himself.
Draco scoffed, the noise pulling Ron out of his thoughts. “Come on. Let’s see if we can get you cleaned up. And then you can let Granger know that you’re still alive.”
“Alright,” Ron agreed, letting Draco guide him up the stairs. That sounded like a plan.
Harry Potter, Ron/Draco, PG-13, 1,351 words.
For
cugami, whose Ron I love so much that it can only be expressed in squealing and loud 'oh my gods'. You said you wanted it, and I hope you like it. It's not quite finished- I want to work with it some more, but the idea is here. He heard Hermione crying- he knew it was Hermione by the way her breath hitched in the way that she was trying not to cry, by the way she sniffed gently when she realized it was a fruitless attempt- and for one panicked moment, Ron was glad that he couldn’t see her. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see him like this- one of his eyes somewhere on the floor still, purposely told to him by Bellatrix Lestrange, her tone both patronizing and more than a little insane right by his ear.
“Sweet irony if you ended up stepping on it- a tiny squish under your boot,” she had said.
“You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means,” Ron had shot back, even though he had been shaking, even though he had been fucking terrified. It had been too much to hope that they would have killed him the moment they had him. That would have been merciful, but he had known that neither Bellatrix Lestrange nor Lucius Malfoy were very merciful people.
Malfoy’s soft chuckle and Lestrange’s cold hands on his face had been his only warning, but it had been enough of one- he hadn’t screamed when her fingers dug into his eye socket, her fingertips creating a wet ‘plop’ as she pulled on his eyeball as hard as she could.
That was important to tell Hermione. He had to tell her. “I didn’t scream when she took it out, or when they-“
“Oh, Ronald,” she interrupted, with the familiar emphasis on his name, but instead of annoyance, there was only sadness. He heard the rustle of her robe, and her footsteps as she ran towards him, and embraced him. Ron hadn’t known that Hermione actually smelt a bit like old books- but it was Hermione, and she was warm, and she was safe. Ron buried his face in her hair, barely feeling her hands smooth his hair down.
She was warm and safe, but not what he had been looking for.
“Ron- what were you even doing here?” she asked, her voice muffled, her lips moving against his ear, and he pulled away from her.
“I can’t- Hermione, I got to go-“
“No. Absolutely not, Ron. The only place that you’re going is to St. Mungo’s, and you are going, if I have to hex you unconscious and drag you there myself,” Hermione ordered, helping him stand.
Eyes or no, it had always been pointless trying to argue with Hermione.
St. Mungo’s was fully, but Ron couldn’t say that he was surprised by that. Once Voldemort had came back- officially, according to the Ministry of Magic- St. Mungo’s was always filled with people dying. Hermione had checked for Harry at St. Mungo’s obsessively, hoping that she wouldn’t hear his name.
Ron stood against the wall, and he knew that people were staring at him- the room was too quiet. So quiet that he could hear Hermione fighting with the woman at the front desk.
“You can’t help him at all?” Hermione hissed, but Ron’s not paying any real attention to them. He needed to leave- they were wasting time. He knew that Harry was fine- he had no proof, no, but somehow, he knew that his best mate was fine.
He needed to see Draco Malfoy, and wasn’t sure how he was going to explain that to Hermione.
“Hermione!” he barked out. A chair slid across the floor and hit the wall. “Let’s just go. They have other things to worry about.”
“Ron- are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” he replied, trying to smile to reassure her, but it felt weird on his face.
He waited for her to join him- she knew that he couldn’t figure the way out on his own. Her hand was tiny in his own- smaller than Draco’s, but just as delicate. The fact that he was even doing a comparison strengthened his resolve- he had to find Draco.
“Alright then,” she said, “Let’s go home.”
Home was a small two bedroom flat in muggle London. There were reminders that the war was going on there too, but it was the only place that either one of them felt remotely safe in anymore.
“Do- do you want to get in the shower, then?” Hermione questioned, speaking up for the first time since leaving St. Mungo’s.
“No. I’m going to go to bed, I guess. Try to get some sleep,” he lied easily.
“Alright. Good night, then,” Hermione muttered, and he felt her hand on his shoulders, before her lips brushed his cheek. He wondered how she could pair to touch him with the dried up blood on his face, and the fact that there were no pair of blue eyes staring back at her- it had to be eerie for her.
“Hermione?” he called out, hoping that she hadn’t left
“What is it Ron?”
“Thank you. For staying with me. It means- I really appreciate it.”
He’d like to imagine that she was smiling. “Would I really be anywhere else? Honestly, Ron, don’t you know any better?”
Ron couldn’t fight the urge to laugh- it was like being eleven all over again.
“Nox,” Hermione whispered sleepily from the next room. Ron relaxed- he thought that she would never have gotten to sleep.
He thought of Malfoy Manor- at least, how he knew it before Bellatrix Lestrange had taken his eyes and handed on to Lucius Malfoy as a gift…
Doing apparition without seeing where he ended up was going to be difficult. Ron just hoped that it would end up being worth it. He ignored the familiar pull of magic, just needing to get to Malfoy Manor.
He stumbled into the room, fairly sure that he still had the rest of his body parts. He looked around the room- purely on instinct. The sudden loud clunk of boots coming down the stair startled him- that was the exact same way Lucius had come down the stairs.
“Weasley, have you lost your bloody mind, coming here? You know- oh, fuck.”
Ron bowed his head down- maybe he should have taken that shower Hermione had offered him. He flinched when one of Draco’s arms went around his neck. The other went right to his cheek, but Ron grabbed his wrist before his fingers went up on his face any further. Vaguely, he wondered if his hands still had blood on them, but it was too late to do anything about it- his fingers were already gripping strands of Draco’s hair.
“I wanted to see you,” Ron admitted.
“And they took your eyes,” Draco replied flatly, but it almost sounded like he was crying.
“Yeah,” Ron said.
“You’re an idiot, Weasley,” Draco muttered.
“Yeah,” Ron repeated, and Draco sighed- not his usual haughty, ‘I’m-better-than-you-Weasley’ sigh, but one that simply said, ‘I don’t know what to do.’
Ron opened his mouth to say something to make the silence bearable, when Draco kissed him.
Ron had wanted to see him, and instead, found Bellatrix and Lucius- so they had taken his eyes with the intent for him to not see anyone, let alone Draco.
This though- being with Draco, knowing that Draco- even with his newest disability was there- it didn’t make it worth it, or even better, but it was a nice start.
“Come on Weasley- you need a bath. You know the battle weary look does nothing for me,” Draco joked.
“Whatever- everything about me does it for you,” Ron shot back, grateful that Draco wasn’t going to dwell on it. They couldn’t- it had happened, and Ron wasn’t going to let that define the rest of his life, not when Voldemort was trying to do it himself.
Draco scoffed, the noise pulling Ron out of his thoughts. “Come on. Let’s see if we can get you cleaned up. And then you can let Granger know that you’re still alive.”
“Alright,” Ron agreed, letting Draco guide him up the stairs. That sounded like a plan.
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no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 10:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 08:01 pm (UTC)And omg, the fic. Guh. Like being gutted. Beautiful and heartbreaking.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 10:41 pm (UTC)And thank you.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 01:15 pm (UTC)The picture killed me. Then the fic killed me again.
This was beautiful. Could we hope for more? :)
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Date: 2006-04-12 02:21 am (UTC)And as to more... I'm not sure. I'd like to write more of this, but I'm not to sure as to when, since HP isn't my main fandom anymore.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-02 01:33 am (UTC)OMG I know this was an unhappy scene but ha! Princess Bride much?
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Date: 2006-05-03 11:04 pm (UTC)And I think that was my own dry humor creeping in. That, and I've always been amused by the idea of Ron watching (and enjoying) the Princess Bride.