Misery and Grief

"About that..." Harry looked at Draco, who didn't seem to know how to settle his face. Between anger, aggravation, and shock, and fear. When it came down to it, what was a reasonable explanation for this? The truth left Draco to open for humiliation, and he could see that Draco was looking at him. Was there pleading in his eyes. "He's in a bit of a bind and I'm helping him out." The only thing Harry could manage was look at Draco with a look of 'it's the best I could do'. However, Ron span at him, almost hitting the dark haired boy.

"You're helping him? Why? Can't he go and tell daddy and daddy will fix everything?" Both Harry and Draco visibly flinched. "He's got money and power and his pure blood ethics. He's scum who doesn't deserve your help, no matter what's going on with him!" Ron turned to Draco and stepped toward him intently. Draco started backing away for a few strides before outright spinning around and running up the stairs and into the guest room, the door slamming. "What?" The Weasley boy said, staring at the way Draco went.

Harry had to think was obvious that Draco wasn't really comfortable with people knowing he had been raped. And he wanted to respect that but at the same time he didn't want to leave his friend in the dark. "Listen, I know you have your prejudices, and he's still the same old Draco he's always been." Ron turned to him slowly, with an expression that seemed to say how desperately he needed an explanation for not only why he was here but the reason for Draco's skittish behavior. Harry gave a deep sigh. "I can't tell you what happened, I don't know all the details anyways. However, I think it's safe to say that he won't be relying on his father anymore. So-"

"No way!" Ron cut in, both to the brunette's comfort and dismay. "Now I'm sure it has to be a trick." With that the redhead ran up the stairs, Harry trailing along after him desperately trying to grab at him to make him stop. However, Ron had a much longer stride, and reached the top of the stairs five steps before Harry, who by the time he reached the top Ron was already barging into Draco's room. "Hey, Malfoy. What's your angle?" Harry could hear him call as he turned the corner and into the door. Ron was already standing in front of Malfoy. They were of almost equal height, as opposed to Harry who despite his tiny stature as a child had grown quite a bit but was still fairly standard in size. One had white blonde hair and the other flaming red. The biggest difference, however, was their stature; Draco was very thin and almost feminine, while Ron was lanky but muscular. So, despite their similar heights, Ron looked far more intimidating than Draco and Harry was somewhat impressed by Draco, who stood his ground, albeit visibly nervous. "So what? You're gonna whip out your wand and kill him as soon as he sleeps? Your father's orders I assume, or was it Voldemort himself?"

"Actually, Ron." Harry chimed in, not particularly liking the scowls he recieved from both of them as the looked his way. "He doesn't have his wand... It wasn't with him when he got here."

"Don't be daft, he has to have some sort of enchanted pocket where he stuck it." Ron looked him over suspiciously. "Is that Fred's clothing?"

Draco's face flushed pink as grey eyes glared at Harry, seemingly angry both that he was wearing a Weasley's clothing and being inspected by another Weasley. His head snapped back at the redhead, blush gone and anger taking over. "Stop checking me out, Weasley." Draco had to note, with an upset twinge, that his anger at Harry made him forget his problems while fighting with Ron made them all the more obvious. Begrudgingly, he continued "And furthermore, I don't need your permission to be anywhere." It was quite quickly that a wand was suddenly almost touching his nose. Draco smiled evilly. "Go ahead, just don't bother with curses or jinxes or spells. If you aim, Weasley, aim to kill."

Harry ran between them, pushing them apart. "Okay you two that's enough. Ron, Malfoy's staying. End of story. He doesn't have his wand and as such I think it's uncalled for to wave yours in front of his face." Harry watched as Ron lowered his wand. "And you," he turned toward Draco, but couldn't for the first time in his life think of anything that Draco had done wrong. He'd only spoken after being provoked quite a bit. However, he couldn't say nothing or else Ron would just throw another fit. "You've landed yourself in your childhood rival's house. Don't act surprised if no one believes you." He, however, said this much softer than his ridicule of Ron.

"Fine." The redhead crossed his arms. "I'm moving in, too."

"No you're not." The two others said synonymously. Harry looked at the blonde, who wasn't seeming to continue, before himself adding on to it. "I'm not going to babysit your bickering." Translated, it meant he was worried about fighting Draco as it was, but if Draco felt bullied it would make this all the more difficult. Also, there was the matter of Draco's skittishness, which reminded him that since the initial confrontation in the room, the Slytherin had inched back several feet.

"Fine." Ron said, glowering. "But I want proof that this isn't some trick." Harry glanced at Draco, who watched the slightly taller boy with an anxious look. "I don't trust you for a minute."

"Fine. If it's that big of a deal, I'll take up cleaning. This place is filthy. And since I have no wand, I'll have to do it the muggle way." He crossed his arm and cringed, as if repulsed by his own idea. "However, I won't do it for free." His icy grey gaze turned to the brunette. "I want a new wand."

The boy who lived, who was a bit shocked, thought it over. He saw multiple issues with this, if he was to look at Ron's side of things, which reminded him that his best friend was also staring at him. They wanted an answer, but if he got Draco a wand now it would be the same as if he had shown up with one. However, he could likely afford it. "Sounds alright to me. If you want a wand, you can work as long as you're here. We'll decide when we'll buy one later."

"I don't like things that are open ended, Potter." The slim man accused, light eyebrows furrowing.

"Forgive me but out of the two of us, who has a reputation of being a slippery, cunning git?"

"Fine then, Potter." A pale hand extended out to Harry for the first time since before the sorting ceremony many years ago. "It's a deal. But if you stiff me, you'll regret it."

Harry's hand twitched in place, unsure of itself, before taking Draco's. He noted how cold the Slytherin was to the touch and how smooth the skin was. Draco, on the other hand, realized just how tight of a grip Harry had.

"It's a deal."