Seeking the Dragon

Ron was stunned as he read through the article that Malfoy Manor had been reduced to rubble and smoldering ash. Lucius and Narcissa had been holed up inside the Manor for months trying to evade capture by Aurors. His older brother Bill was the one who used his charm breaking skills to finally get past the wards that had been in place helping them avoid arrest. It was a grand conflagration, reminiscent of an American Independence Day celebration, claimed the paper. Sadly, all Ron could think about was the final descendant of the Malfoy clan. Draco was tucked away in some hideaway far away from Britain, Lucius\' sole motive was to make sure the Malfoy name did not become a casualty of the war if his side lost.

\"How very Malfoy of Malfoy,\" Ron thought to himself. Though, Ron knew that thought didn\'t come from as bitter a feeling as he preferred. He was beginning to miss the verbal sparring matches between him and Draco; then again it had been at least yearyears since they had seen each other.

Most of the Malfoy fortune was seized by the Ministry prior to the raid. The Ministry set aside a portion for Draco, when and if he returned. There was no denying that Draco was an innocent in this affair, he was sent away before any of this started. It was one of the few times Draco and Lucius actually saw eye to eye. Ron had to see the wreckage of Malfoy Manor for himself. Strangely, he had a glimmer of hope that this turn of events might well bring Draco out of hiding. In the back of his mind, he was holding out hope for a truce between them, if not a friendship altogether. Ron set out for Malfoy Manor. He Apparated to a spot where the front gate had been; even as a pile of rubble, the Manor still caused a feeling of foreboding.

There was bad blood between the Gryffindor and the Slytherin, the barbs they once traded, tore deep. In their final year at Hogwarts, they both felt like they had forgotten something if they hadn\'t traded at least one insult during their day. For Draco, it was a matter of keeping up appearances, even when his older house mates grew tired of being the bane of Gryffindor house. For Ron, it was a different, more twisted feeling; Draco was, for him, the boy he hated to love and loved to hate. The redhead, during the winter holidays of his sixth year at Hogwarts, sometime between Christmas and New Year\'s, had finally understood that his attraction to his own sex was no longer a mere phase he was going through; this was something he was going to contend with for the rest of his life.

It was a day or two before heading back to school that he came out to his parents. He felt like he was disappointing them with the news, their baby boy was gay. Molly and Arthur would have nothing of it, however. Ron was their son, being gay was no disappointment to them, and they would love him no less than before. Their only fear was how the outside world would treat him once he chose to no longer hide. He chose not to tell them of his interest in the boy he grew to love and loathe all at once. They knew all too well the pain that Draco had caused for their youngest son. Ron knew it too; he also knew that it would break his parents\' hearts to know he pined for someone he also despised.

The days of schoolboy taunts were behind Ron now. More than a decade of longing to catch a mere glimpse of the silver blond boy had smothered out the last remaining embers of hatred that had burned within his heart. Ron needed to see what was left, if only for the hope that he would find something to remind him of Draco. He mentally rummaged through memories of his verbal matches with Draco, it left him feeling empty.

He really did miss Draco, though his best friends, Harry and Hermione, could not figure out why at first. They couldn\'t figure it out until several years after graduation, when Ron came out to them. It was a moment of desperation for him, he felt the need to find Draco, and wanted their help. They had refused him at first; they thought it was because Ron wanted the glory of capturing Draco. Harry and Hermione had explained that Draco was still uninvolved in any part of the war as long as he stayed in hiding. The last thing they had wanted was to add another schoolmate to the list of casualties. Their reasoning for their refusal had forced Ron to finally state his true intentions behind finding Draco. They were still firm in their refusal, although they did try to comfort him whenever he had hit a dead end in his search.

He stood for a moment, as if the gates were still there. He took in a sharp breath, and then steeled himself for the possibility of hitting yet another dead end. Every other place that the Malfoys had been seen or battled with, Ron had searched in his never ending quest to find his rival.

A noise like a whimper or sniffle startled him. Ron did not expect what came into sight next. There amidst the rubble, sat a solemn figure that vaguely reminded him of the Malfoy he once knew, sobbing with grief. His face was muddied with soot and tears. The spectacle was heartbreaking for Ron. \"Malfoy?\" he said, not really believing the figure was Draco \"What are you doing here?\"

\"Come here to gloat now, Weasley?\" Draco spat. \"My parents are dead, you know. What do you think I\'m doing here? I thought you Weasleys had respect for the dead, now show some and go away!\"

Ron was hurt, but he wasn\'t going to leave just yet. Doing so meant he was walking away from a friendship that could have been. Fighting a losing battle with accepted reflexes he blurted out, \"Gloat? Ha! The Prophet is doing a far better job than I ever could.\" Ron paused for a moment, realizing almost too late, that he was starting another round of verbal blows. He may have missed them, but that didn\'t mean he wanted to pick up where they left off. \"Malf-Draco,\" he started again, this time moving closer.

\"What do you want with me, Weasel?\" Draco hissed out.

\"As a matter of fact, I came here to find something that reminded me of you,\" Ron\'s voice quivered, he was trying to hide the happiness he felt seeing Draco again, even if the feeling wasn\'t mutual.

\"Well, here\'s the shirt off my back, they\'ve taken everything else!\" Draco\'s words were still dripping with venom. As if to add emphasis to his remark, Draco began unbuttoning his shirt.

\"Uh, Malf-err-Draco? If you mean the Ministry, they know you weren\'t involved. I know for a fact that you?ll get your inheritance. I know your family home is gone, that must be a blow, but you aren\'t penniless.?

This elicited a snort from Draco, \"How should you know what it\'s like to lose a family home, all you\'ve had was that shack called The Burrow.\" He then turned to face Ron and shouted, \"You forgot that they killed off my parents!\"

Ron felt sad for Draco. \"I figured I\'d spare you of being reminded of that,\" he said gently, toeing the debris. \"Would you, err I mean to say, do you have a place to stay? Well, while you get things sorted out with the Ministry and all.\"

Draco was stunned, where was the fire that once burbehibehind those blue eyes? He remembered there was a time when Ron would just about explode at the mere sound of his voice. Draco simply shook his head.

\"I thought as much,\" Ron crouched down beside Draco and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder. Draco jerked back in fear, not knowing what this simple gesture meant. It seemed one of friendship, but it wha Ron Ron was playing him, trying to gain his confidence so that he too would become a life resident of Azkaban.

Draco thought this over for a moment. While he had the means to stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the night, there was no one recognizable there. At least at Ron\'s place there would be a familiar face in the morning, even if it was one that belonged to a man he thought had hated him. The sight of a known face, even Ron\'s, would help him feel like he was still in reality. But his pride reared its ugly head, \"I\'m not some charity case, you know. I still have my own money; I wasn\'t entirely dependent upon my family\'s fortune.\"

\"I\'m not doing this because I think you need charity, you fool, I\'m doing this because,\" he choked on his words, \"I actually missed you. I truly wasn\'t really expecting you to be here so soon.\"

\"So you came here to loot what was left and then decided instead to offer me a place to stay when you found me here? You missed me, huh? Weasley, you\'re putting me on.\"

This was not going as well as Ron had hoped. Draco was right, he came here in hopes of finding a piece of Draco to claim for his own, and found Draco in the flesh instead. \"Uh,\" Ron paused a moment, \"to tell you the truth I came here to find something that reminded me of you. Even ferret fur would have been nice.\" Ron just had to get that dig in, even though it was a poor choice in humor.

\"Oh, now the Weasel thinks he\'s funny, does he?\" Draco challenged.

\"Don\'t you?\" Ron said with a smirk.

There they were, nearly 30, and still bickering like the schoolboys they once were, while the ashes of Malfoy Manor smokes around them. Draco\'s parents were dead, his friends had probably forgotten him by now, what choice did he have left. \"You know what, Weas-err, Ron, I highly doubt I\'ll find my bed in this mess, do you think, uh, I mean do you have a place?\" Draco wasn\'t used to being so tongue tied, so again he tried to ask, \"Can I stay at your place?\" Even though all of his instincts pointed to a setup, Draco decided to take that risk. If Ron was truly and sincerely offering a hand in friendship, it would mean that he wouldn\'t have to worry so much about looking over his shoulder for hidden followers of the Dark Lord. He knew Ron had an overactive protective streak when it came to friends; that very trait meant that there would be someone watching his back.

Ron\'s eyes nearly popped out of his head, \"Really?\" he said all too eagerly, ahen hen gaining his composure, \"Ahem, really? Are you sure you can stand being in the company of a Weasley?\"

\"Yes, Weas-Ron, now let\'s go before I change my mind.\" Draco shocked himself by calling Ron by his given name not once but twice. But it really felt like it was time to let the past stay where it was, and befriending a Weasley couldn\'t be too horrible. Now that his parents were gone for good he could make his own decisions and not worry about getting his family name sullied, his father had quite handily seen to that.

Ron had plenty of experience with friends who had lost their parents, since he was 11 years old as a matter of fact. Harry\'s parents were dead, and he had lost count of the times Harry had come to him because of the nightmare. To Ron, it didn\'t matter if the parents were Aurors, Death Eaters, good guys, or bad guys, all he knew was that when he saw someone in need, he felt the need to help them. That was Ron\'s way, always there to offer his support, but rarely seeking support for himself. First it was just Harry that needed his support, then, as the war progressed, he saw more people in need; then it was just friends in need, then those he didn\'t even know, by the time the war had ended, being the rock that everyone clings to became a habit. The Ministry saw this quality in Ron and rather than make him a full time Auror, he was given the position of a sort of social worker, or counselor. He rarely had to go on the front lines of battle; his primaryy way was to clean up the messes that the Aurors\' battles had left behind.

\"Where is this place of yours, Weasley?\" Draco asked \"And exactly how am I supposed to Apparate to somewhere I don\'t know?\"

\"That\'s true. It\'s not too far from my parents\', although it\'s closer to town than my family likes. It\'s small, but it does have a guest room. Sometimes it all seems a little too big for just me, but it\'s home.\"

\"Just him?\" Draco said to himself. \"Didn\'t he get married? Weren\'t all the Weasleys raising little tribes of their own?\" Something just didn\'t seem right about this line of thought, he had to know. \"Wha you you mean, just you?\" He asked.

\"Exactly what it is supposed to mean, it has always been just me. No wife, no kids, just me.\" Ron had hoped that was the end of that topic, he had no desire to come out to Draco just yet. Yet, all his fears from when he first came out were pushing to the forefront of his thoughts.

\"You never married? Why? Couldn\'t find someone to put up with your brooding, your temper?\" Draco teased.

\"Just drop it, right now Malfoy, or I\'ll show you what I can do with a wand that\'s in one piece!\" Ron\'s eyes lit up like a fire burning inside, ready to burn a hole through the blond in front of him. He drew his wand, as if by trained reflex, ready to fire whatever hex came to mind.

Draco had a terrified look on his face, he remembered from second year how strong Ron\'s temper could make his magic. That spell had backfired, Ron was older now and had a wand that was intact, he was certain he didn\'t want to be on the receiving end of what ever the hot-headed redhead could dish out, especially not withous ows own wat tht the ready. \"I\'m just teasing, Ron, really. I didn\'t mean to make you sore, and for the love of Merlin, don\'t point that thing at me. I\'d rather not spend the rest of my life spewing slugs.\"

Ron saw the look on Draco\'s face. \"Shit, I\'m sorry, Mal-err-Draco. Let\'s just head for my place, It\'s not much of a walk from here. Besides, like you said, you can\'t Apparate to a place you don\'t know.\"

\"I do have a broom, although it doesn\'t usually fly for anyone but me, I swear sometimes it has a personality all its own.\"

\"I\'d rather walk; it gives us more time to catch up? and me to cool down.\" Ron muttered that last bit more to himself than to Draco.

\"Right then, we\'ll walk, we\'ll talk; say, this will be like one of those weird dating programs on that Muggle contraption, the television they call it.\" Draco was feeling a little better. Seeing a familiar face was having the unexpected effect of making him feel more grounded, even if that face belonged to the Weasel.

\"Yes, it is a television. Who would have thought that the great Draco Malfoy would lower himself to using a Muggle device,\" Ron giggled, in a show that he was teasing. \"Your father did you right by hiding you in a place no one would think to look.\"

\"You just leave my father out of this! If you must know, it\'s not easy living as a Muggle in America. Horrible accent. Why, it barely sounds like English. You can hardly understand a thing they say.\"

\"That explains the way he\'s dressed,\" thought Ron. Draco\'s hair was no longer slicked back, it was close cropped on the sides and spiky in the front, a far cry from the way his father had worn his hair. Tight, form-fitting black jeans, a black turtleneck beneath a black blazer, all combined to make a rather beautiful man. He knew he had to stop looking at Draco, they were just kindling a friendship, being caught checking him out could prove to be the end of something so new.

There was a long silence during their walk, each trying to take in the events of the day. Ron was dead set on making this work, Draco was amazed that the one who was such a bitter enemy had offered his friendship. The missing him part was what confounded Draco even more. Why? Why did Ron miss him, there was so much hatred between them at Hogwarts, you could almost touch it. Draco had put a lot of energy into the rivalry; he supposed he truly did miss Ron, too, now that he thought about it. His time in America had even made him gain a fondness for Muggles. He had changed, Ron had changed. \"Where had the time gone?\" Draco thought to himself, he had been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn\'t notice that Ron had stopped a ways ahead of him and stumbled right into the redheaded man.

\"Oy, there, watch it Malf-Draco, you can\'t trample over your only guide to a warm place.\"

\"Well, what did you stop for?\" Draco replied, being stunned out of his deep thoughts.

\"You know, it is dark enough tonight, I suppose we could just fly the rest of the way. I didn\'t realize how long this walk was going to be. It feels a lot closer when you Apparate.\"

\"I suppose; hop on.\" Draco beckoned after mounting his broom.

Ron mounted the broom behind Draco, unconsciously wrapping his arms around Draco\'s waist. \"Whoops, sorry.\" Ron caught himself and adjusted his hands to grip the slender hips of the man in front of him. Beyond scaring off Draco, Ron was worried his hands might get a mind of their own and wander during the flight. No point in causing a crash. Ron couldn\'t understand what was going on inside his head. How could he even consider having a grope so soon after finding him? Had he really built up so much of an imaginary friendship with Draco that he was starting to believe it?

Once in the air, Ron placed his chin on Draco\'s shoulder, another unconscious movement. Draco turned toward him to speak, and Ron\'s lips brushed against his cheek before he was able to jerk back, \"What are you doing?\" Draco asked.

\"You\'ll be able to hear me better over the wind,\" was Ron\'s hasty reply.

\"Oh,\" Draco replied with a shrug. During the flight Draco thought, \"What was Ron playing at? Before we left school, we were enemies. Now he is looking for mementos, and offering me a place for the night? This has to be a setup, is he really directing me to his home? And when did he become so clingy? It seemed like he was ready to hug me when he mounted the broom.\" All these questions raced through Draco\'s head, he was so caught up in them that he almost didn\'t hear Ron directing him to land at a spot a few meters away.

\"Land just over there,\" Ron said, \"That clearing over there is well hidden from the neighbors. Just so you know most of my neighbors are Muggles.\"

Once on the ground Draco said, \"I think your father\'s love of Muggles rubbed off on you, Ron. Or is that some sort of Weasley trait?\" Draco was teasing again, but his smile vanished quickly when he saw the look on Ron\'s face. The fire was back, this did not look good.

Ron spun around to face Draco. \"A lot of people were killed or almost killed because greedy Muggles pointed them out to Voldemort\'s followers. Voldemort had offered a reward for pointing out wizards. But he had done it in such a way that those in our world didn\'t catch on until it was almost too late. Hermione had tried to warn everyone, but the pompous arses in the Ministry that took it all as childish rambling. They didn\'t care that Hermione was Muggleborn; all they saw was someone younger than them, trying to tell them their job.\"

\"What about your father? Didn\'t he warn them?\"

\"Yes, but they sent him right into the thick of it. They laughed him off, thinking that he was just tryin get get out of battle. The Ministry never considered that he gained a fair bit of knowledge of Muggles while doing his regular duties. He barely made it through\"

\"Really? What happened? I mean did they figure it out?\" Draco asked wide- eyed. Not much information about the war had made it to the Wizarding newspapers in America, and they were almost completely devoid of information regarding individual battles

\"I\'ll put it this way; remember what you said about my temper and a wand? Well, there are a couple of Death Eaters that owe their lives to Hermione and Harry. When I saw my father being held by the Cruciatus Curse, I went berserk, I was ready to kill if it meant saving him. By the time Harry and Hermione had managed to blast me with a Stunning Spell that had any effect, those Death Eaters may as well have been blobs of jelly.\" Ron went silent for a few moments, as they walked to his place, Reliving this moment left him shaking, he didn\'t know if it was from the light chill in the air or the emotional strain. He continued with a slightly shaky voice, \"My father wanted to stay out of the battles after that. The Ministry did everything they could to get me away from working alongside my family. They were worried more about collateral damage caused by my temper.\"

Draco was awestruck. He knew well, how Ron\'s protective streak would get him into trouble at school, but he never thought that it would also block out his conscience. The tone of Ron\'s voice told him he wasn\'t exaggerating. He remembered Ron\'s love of embellishment, but there was just something in his voice that left him feeling that there was more truth being left unspoken.

They finally made it to the door of Ron\'s place and entered. Ron was right; it was too big for just him. The furnishings were meager: a couch along one wall, a desk and chair against another, a small table that looked like it might strain to fit any more than one sitting, a few scattered pictures of the Weasley family about the walls. Then there were the some things that Draco had seen while in America: a telephone, a small stereo, a television facing the couch from the opposite wall.

\"Did Potter make you get all of this Muggle stuff?\" Draco asked

\"Not really, he did teach me how to use most of it. That foul contraption there on the desk, the felly-telephone, I needed Hermione\'s help for that, I still don\'t have the hang of it.\"

\"But why on earth do you have them? Is this a Muggle neighborhood,\" asked Draco, still puzzled.

\"Mostly Muggle, there are a few squibs around that used to watch the place when I was away for very long,\" Ron answered. \"As for why... it\'s far easier to hide in plain sight around here.\"

\"Sounds like where I was in America; Squibs and Muggles, mostly Squibs though.\"

\"You can have Harry\'s old room; it\'s down the hall on the left. The bathroom is the fidoordoor to the right.\"

\"What are the other two doors?\"

\"The second door on the right is a study and storage room. The door at the end of the hall is my room.\" Ron paused for a moment, \"Care to see where you\'ll be staying?\"

Draco nodded and then followed Ron to the spare room. Looking in, he found it to be livable, aside from the color scheme. There were some Quidditch posters of various teams from around Europe, France, Ireland, and The UK, to name a few. Some ps frs from Harry\'s time at Hogwarts were on the nightstand. A red comforter and gold sheets were on the bed, along with red pillows. \"How long ago was Potter in here? There are Gryffindor colors everywhere.\" Draco asked

\"Oh, nearly five years, I suppose, here now, how\'s this\" With a wave of his wand, Ron changed the color scheme to one of green and silver.

\"Better, but were not in school anymore. We don\'t have to have our house colors in our bedrooms.\"

\"Right then.\" Ron looked disheartened by yet another stumbling block, \"You\'d rather I change it back?\" With another wave of his wand the bed was back to red and gold.

\"It\'s fine Weas-Ron.\" Draco couldn\'t believe that Ron was being so accommodating. What was the catch? He grew up knowing that kindness and generosity came with a price. How much would this cost him in the long run? \"Not like this is permanent, right?\"

\"Draco, I know this isn\'t the greatest of places to be, and you\'re welcome to stay as long as you need, but try to be a little more agreeable.\" Ron said with a sound of disenchantment in his voice. He was glad to have found Draco, but the old habits were coming back. Draco was trying to act casual, but Ron c tel tell that he was still suspicious.

\"Tell you what, Weas-Ron, I\'m tired, I\'ve had a rough enough day as it is. I\'m going to bed. And do me a favor, don\'t call in any Dementors after me once I\'m asleep.\"

In a lightning fast movement, Ron drew his wand and sent out a stream of violet sparks in the direction of his kitchen table, blasting it to bits. The comment about Dementors, even though Draco didn?t know they had worked for Voldemort throughout the war, infuriated him. It didn\'t matter that Draco had no idea they worked for Voldemort throughout the war. Just the mere mention of Dementors made Ron\'s blood boil.

Draco had barely drawn his wand in time to protect himselfm thm the flying shards of wood. He stood gaping in shock, partly because that made twice that Ron had gotten the drop on him, and partly because he didn\'t know Ron had it in him to be so destructive. \"What the bloody hell was that for?\"

\"Next time, I may not try to miss! Don\'t ever bring up those THINGS, again!\" Ron took in a few rushed breaths, trying to calm himself. Still shaking from anger, he continued, \"Those things no longer work for the Ministry. It is because of those things, that Hogwarts now teaches sixth-years how to make a Patronus. The Aurors that are still alive, keep them out of England and on the run.\"

\"Did you have to blow up the table? What am I supposed to eat on?\" Draco shouted.

\"This,\" Ron said. He then waved his wand and a four seat table appeared in the small table\'s place. \"With a temper like mine, it helps to have spares,\" he said with a sheepish grin. \"You\'re right, Malf-Draco, it\'s getting late. Maybe we should call it a night.\"

\"Good idea, good night, Weas-Ron.\" Draco apprehensively made his way to his room. He undressed, and climbed into bed.

As Ron headed for his own room, he stopped at the door to Draco\'s room and muttered a quiet, \"Thanks, Draco.\" Then with a sigh, he continued on his way. Ron sat on his bed, feeling both happy and depressed. He was happy he found Draco, but depressed because twice today he lost control of his temper. Draco just seemed to bring out the worst in him during school, and now the same thing was happening again. After undressing he climbed under the covers and fell into a restless sleep.