What are you?

I Refuse

"Refusal is only a temporary halt on what is true. What is meant to be, will simply be."
___
Ron sat in the great hall, eating a full plate of, well, he didn't really know. It was something like meat, he knew that. Whatever the meal was, it was good, and couldn't get enough of it. "So, care to illuminate us Ron?" Hermoine asked from in front of him, taking small helpings of food into her mouth.

"I'd ratha not talk abou it," he said, mouth entirely full. In truth, there wasn't much to say. Once Ron had arisen from his seat and walked over to sit with Malfoy, they had sat in pure silence. Staring at each other with scowls plastered deeply on their faces. There was so many things he wanted to say, most entirely inappropriate for school.

But he kept quiet, ignoring the fact that Malfoy was staring at him as if he were a pile of garbage. "Is there a reason why neither of you are talking?" Snape asked, hovering over the two of them like a dementor. His presence was eerie, and his voice, horrifying. "I refuse to work with him, sir.

Surely you don't expect this of me?" Malfoy said, crossing his arms over his cloak. "Can't I work with Hermoine and Harry? I'm sure Malfoy can manage well on his own." Ron said desperately, clamping his fists together as if he werr groveling before him.

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear," he said. "The two of you are to work together, there are no questions about it."
"But pro-"
"No questions," he said, cutting Ron off. "If I do not see conversation the two of you will be cleaning each and every desk after class." At this, he walked off, moving back to his desk.

And, even while his back was turned, Ron knew he was keeping an eye on the two of them. "This is bloody great," Ron said, refusing to look Malfoy in the eye. He had his side turned to him, forcing him to stare at his shoulder. "I'd rather clean every desk in Hogwarts than work with you git," he said.
"You think I want to work with you either Weasal?"

Malfoy said, not hesitating to bore directly into Ron's soul. "You look more like a Weasal than I do."
"At least I don't have to share a room with the rest of my miscreant siblings." Malfoy responded, pale skin ablaze with fury. "Well, at least I'm not the son of inbreeders."

"Ha, are you sure your family isn't? How do you suppose you all have red hair? Genetics?"
"Ew, its hereditary, thank you,"
"Of course, and I'm a donkey." Malfoy said, laughing as if he had won the argument.

He sat with this smug nature about him, like everyone who was around him was considerably below him. It made Ron furious. What made him so special? Was it the fact that he was a pureblood? Or just a plain, stark, asshat. Regardles, it didn't matter, he was annoying either way.

"At least my father isn't a death eater," Ron said, delivering a quick, yet quiet blow. For a moment, he regretted those words. Thinking that within the next few seconds he would toss out his wand and hex him into next tuesday. But he didn't do anything. Just sat there, arms crossed and head cocked forwards.

"Don't talk about my father," Malfoy said coldly, giving Ron a murderous glare. "Than don't talk about my family," he said finally gaining enough courage to star into his deep, grey eyes. Ron thought (somewhat disgsutedly) that they looked like plumes of smoke, or some dark body of water that could go on forever into the ground. They were like slate, peices of luminescent steel, reflecting back the orange in Ron's hair. They sat in silence once again, looking down at their shoes with conjoined annoyance. However, before they departed Malfoy made sure to say, "meet me in the library tomorrow before class.

Or don't, I think I'd quite prefer it if you didn't."
"So?" Hermoine inquired again, placing her elbows on the table in interest. "We didn't say very much. But I have to meet him in the library tomorrow."

"Ooh study date with Draco Malfoy," Fred said, smirking madly. "Get it Ron," George said, making a strange motion with his arms. "Please don't," Ron said, staring at Harry's frown for comfort.

____

Ron entered the library, holding nothing but a short-feathered quill between his fingers (the rest of his work was in his bag). He searched the isles high and low for where Malfoy may have been sitting. He was tired (having gotten a terrible nights sleep), and he felt rather frustrated with the towers of books occupying his vision. "You showed, great," Malfoy's voice said, coming from the table in the very back corner of the room. Turning a corner, Ron made out the shape of a platinum blonde head, and a repulsive-looking face.

"Reluctantly," he said, stopping at the table and slinging his bag on the chair. Ron hadn't been in the library much that year, after all, they had only been in school for a month yet. But, it never ceased to amaze him how one place could continue to smell like a mix of leather, dust, and parchment for so long. He took at seat, one as far away from Malfoy as possible. He really didn't want to be there.

And, at that point, the idea of facing a bogart again seemed like a luxury. Malfoy stood up, turning towards a section of books labeled "Dark Creatures," in scraggly block writing.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked, watching the sway of his robe with disgust. "Reasrching a creature, would reccomend that you do it to."

He said nonchalantly. Ron's mouth dropped and his fiery eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you have bloody selective hearing? Snape said we have to research a creature, that's what I'm doing."

He bursted, slamming a rather thick stack of leatherback books onto the table. A cloud of dust hit Ron directly in the nose, causing him to have violent coughing fit. "You actually read?" Ron asked between gasps, genuinely surprised. "Is that so hard to beleive?

It's a simple construct, although I forgot you're a Weasely."
"I never pictured you reading. You don't act very smart."
"I truly don't see how RESEARCHING constitutes to me being a reader. And could you please study the complexities of lifes questions on you're own time?"

"Still a git though." Ron said, taking one of the books out of the stack and flipping to a random page. "Is that the only insult that you can comprehend Weasal?" Malfoy asked, now annoyed. Ron didn't say anything.

He didn't feel like arguing, not that early in the morning, not before breakfast.