Balaur

The difference between buzzed and staggering drunk — when consuming Old Gaffer’s on an empty stomach with an empty heart — is this: staggering drunks can’t protect themselves when ambushed by a group of Chudley Cannon rowdies led by Ron Weasley; rowdies who were, themselves, one shot short of staggering drunk.

“There’ee is boys! Draco Fucking Malfoy. Raped my ex-girlfriend — you blokes know her, right? The WAR HERO Hermione Granger. Yeah… This DEATH EATER raped her and now she’s carryin’ his bastard instead of being my wife!”

Lifetime habits go down hard on all sides of poor decisions. Draco chose — at that moment and to his detriment — to affect his arrogant, aristocrat demeanor.

“Better she carry my heir then your brain-damaged spawn. At least I care about her welfare and not my last interview in the Daily Prophet. Did you tell your mates that you hexed her? Great headline, don’t you think? ’Golden Trio Hanger-on Ronald Queasy Weasley Hurls a Curse at Pregnant Hermione Granger, War Hero’!” 

In Ron, Draco found an acceptable outlet for the hurt inflicted by Hermione and on Hermione. For possibly the first time since he’d realized she mattered, Draco could pound the shite out of somebody and release his rage without consequences — or so he thought.

“But here’s the best part — my son protected his mother! Not even born yet and he’s a better wizard than YOU, you ignorant ginger fuck! Look at you — had to bring half your squad to deal with one REAL wizard —”

Calvario hit Draco, who began to shed.

“Look! It’s a hairless ferret!” Ron chortled, pointing with his wand at a bald Draco Malfoy.

The Ear-Shriveling Curse came back causing Ron to shriek in pain as his ears shrank.

“You fucking wanker! Everte Statum! Immobulus! Incendio!”

Thrown backwards and immobilized, Draco now smelt the burning of his own flesh under his robes, unable to wield his wand to extinguish himself.

“C’mon, Malfoy. Stop screaming like the coward you are and DO something! I’m right here!”

The volley of response spells came from a direction nowhere near the burning victim, who’d overcome his frozen state and frantically sought to put himself out.

“INCARCEROUS!” bound Ron Weasley and the other Cannos together while Draco’s rescuer alternated fire extinguishing and burn healing.

“Sir, you’re needed in Romania. Ms. Granger is struggling with the child. Healers are there.”

“IMMOBULUS!” stilled all activity as Harry Potter arrived to arrest Draco Malfoy for his probation violation, only to find him smoking and blistered (to Harry’s left) while Ron hurled ineffective and illegal curses in Malfoy’s direction (to Harry’s right).

“What the BLOODY HELL is going on here, Ron!?”

“We were minding our own when this dark fucker ATTACKED us!”

“THAT’S A LIE!”

“Who’re you going to believe, Harry — your best mate or Voldemort’s bitch!?”

“Why’s he the only one on fire, Ron?” 

“I dunno; guess I’m a better wizard.”

Harry’s brain dug in more deeply at Ron’s response.

“Kreacher, did you see what happened?”

“No, Master Potter. Kreacher arrived after.”

Raking two hands through his newly receding hairline, Harry made a decision.

“I’m arresting everybody until we sort this out.”

“Potter, please! I’ll come quietly later, but Kreacher says something’s wrong with Hermione. She might have gone into labor after —” and he stopped abruptly.

“After what, Malfoy?”

“We had an argument; I left rather than lose my temper with her…”

“Until I get to the bottom of this, you’ll have to come with me. I’ll contact Hermione and see if she wants you near her. She can be scary when she’s hacked off. Ask Ron over there.”

Seconds later, a healer attended to first-, second- and third degree burns on Draco — in the holding cell the Aurors’ Department kept for sorting things out — while the collective hot-heads from the Chudley Cannons were standing trussed next to Harry’s messy desk — all except Ron who remained free while pleading his case with Harry.

“He RAPED her! And Hermione, the stubborn bint, is having his baby! She was my girlfriend, Harry. What was I supposed to do — let him get away with it? He’s ruined her for me; I couldn’t stay with her after he’d had her!”

He’d left them, Ron had, during the war — unable to tolerate the effects of the locket and the effects of the conflict. Ron had never faced challenges the likes of those Harry and Hermione survived. So he’d surrendered before the Battle of Hogwarts and Harry gave him a pass. 

Not everyone, Harry reasoned at the time, is born with a steel spine.

But it appeared, for the first time since he’d extended forgiveness to his (soon-to-be “former”) best mate, that Ron had learned nothing from that mistake: the world existed only through a lens where the ginger git held the position “King of Ron’s Universe”, an unremarkable truth about an unremarkable young man.

“The question, Ron, is why would she want to be with a selfish, heartless PRAT like you? I’m sure Hermione’s beating herself up over what SHE did to YOU by volunteering to let Malfoy RAPE her!”

Ropes re-bound Ron securely without a word or a wand wave by The-Boy-Who-Was-Bali’s-Godfather.

“ZABINI!”

“No need to shout, Potter.” the laid-back Slytherin answered as he made his way to his boss.

“Take a full memory covering the last twelve hours from each of the Quidditch idiots. Use force if you’d enjoy it. And get one from Malfoy when the healer’s done!”

The stag leapt from Harry’s wand, before he’d completed his instructions, headed for Romania to confirm whether his best friend wanted to see her sperm-donor/rapist again. He needed no confirmation of Ron’s removal from her life.

A half-hour’s work by Zabini confirmed Draco’s role as victim. Another quarter-hour’s debrief of Kreacher — and the return of Harry’s stag bearing the screaming voice of  Hermione as she begged Harry to find Draco and send him to her — bubbled a plan to the top of the “Action Required” queue in the Deputy Head Auror’s very busy brain.

Running to the cell, Harry unlocked and released his innocent victim, passing on an apology and a warning.

“Sorry about tonight, Malfoy; you better get going.”

“Thanks, Potter.”

The-Boy-Who-Loved hesitated a moment before letting Draco pass.

“You better learn to love them or I’ll find a reason to let Ron have your arse.”

With a nod, Draco grabbed Kreacher’s hand and growled out “Let’s go!”

*____________

Author's Note:

HarryGinny4eva: Not everyone dissembles at the same rate. Particularly the singularly strong and resourceful…

Schoolteacher623: Yeah... Ron's nature as a git is a recurring theme with me. I've never resolved his leaving in the middle of all Hell breaking loose in the horcrux hunt. Not that I'm bitter or anything... LOL

Bella Principessa: The structure of the “chapter” you’ve objected to — and the one directly preceding it — were separated to ensure the effects of Draco’s singularly catalytic decision were given the focus each needed. Had this site provided more methods for typesetting text, any one of a number of options could have been available to accomplish the same purpose without "separating" them. But on a site where tech upgrades lead to the authors having to re-edit entire completed works and where the publishing system causes stories to lose public stats or the ability for readers to “vote” (as it were), choices must be made that reflect the tools at hand. Since I’ve been updating fairly frequently (by AFF anecdotal measures), I concluded readers would not go unsatisfied by my making the best of a “bad” (in the limitations sense) situation. Clearly my choice undermined your enjoyment of this story; you have my sincere regrets that this was the outcome.