What are you?

Beautiful

When Draco woke up that morning Ron was lying on the side of his chest, red hair sprawled out, covering his dry sweater. His lone hand was draped over his stomach, moving with the rise and fall of his breathing. He was smooshed against him, and Draco's arm was over his shoulder, and Draco's chin was on his head, and he could smell the tantalizing scent of cinnamon in his hair. He swore, in that moment, that he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Draco lifted his pale fingers, moving the few strands of hair out of his eyes.

His skin was smooth, pink, all-too supple for Draco to have any reign over his heart. "Mhmm," Ron shifted in his sleep, nuzzling closer into Draco, holding him close. He couldn't help but stare at his lips, they were just so red, and pink, and everything perfect. His eyes fluttered open, looking at the face above him in wonderment. Then, with a start, he bounced up, practically flinging himself on the ground. He scanned around the room, at the resilient fire and the empty shelves, refusing to look Draco in the eye.

"Um, uh I- . . . we should go," he said frantically, standing on his feet and looking around for his coat. It was sat by the fire, spread on the ground, completely dry. Couldn't have a wet coat, Draco thought to himself, trying his damndest to fix his hair. They moved quietly, dressing themselves, warming a bit by the fire (which had miraculously stayed up all night). The camazotz was sitting by the door, taking a small nap in its cage.

With everything going on Draco had completely forgotten about it. "Can't we apparate?" Ron asked, staring at the door somewhat pensively. Draco had resigned himself to carry the cage, seeing as Ron could hardly be within two inches of it without trepidation overtaking him. "Not possible, no one can apparate into Hogwarts."

Draco's heart dropped when he said that. He was lucky, lucky to even have a few seconds where he was able to forget his "duty." The very word "apparate" brought it all back, bubbling up in his stomach like a cauldron of witches brew. He hated himself for the mark on his wrist, for the things that he blindly agreed to. Voldemort's face was like a nightmare, a thing that he just couldn't escape. And, for the longest time, he thought there was positively zero hope in the world.

That everyone was merely a puppet, attached to somebody's strings, dancing at their will. But, looking into Ron's hazel eyes, he realized for just a moment that everything in life was possible. That, impossibility simply didn't exist. Could it be that he had gone insane? It certainly seemed plausible.

"Well, my mother always told me if I was lost, look North, and I'd find my way."
"You want us to rely on the half-baked wisdom of Molly Weasley?" He asked, flipping his wand in his hand. "Hey, that's uncalled for. It's true, the North always leads you to the right place."

Draco chuckled, an epiphany dawning on him. When Ron looked at him like that, like a puppy, he was sure there was no command that he wouldn't obey.
"Sure, why not? We've been lost once already." Ron rolled his eyes, and, with that they departed.

____

It was with ease that they reached Hogwarts, having walked in the freezing cold for what felt like a few hours. The sun was still high and they could hear the subtle screeching of birds in the distance. "Bloody hell," Ron said, staring at the pyre's and cone-like roofs of the castle. The snow had been completely washed away, giving the walloping willow and the quidditch pitch a rather grim looks. They reached a side door, one that led into the main hall.

Draco was happy, and not, he didn't really know what to feel. Of course, he was ecstatic to get out of the cold, but at the same time he didn't want the moment to end.
The shuffles on the couch, the breathing, the lingering eyes. Draco wasn't sure if something like that would ever happen again, and he wasn't sure if he could ever be fully, truly happy if it didn't. Part of him wondered, did Ron feel the same?

And, if so, what in the hell did Draco feel? His thought was cut off by the sound of the doors creaking, of awed voices, and the feet clapping against the ground. The heat hit him like a tidal wave, and his sheath of goosebumps disappeared altogether. "Merlin," someone whispered, "what do you think happened?" People looked disturbed, petrified even, like a basilisk had just in chanted them.

"What did you do Malfoy?" Potter's voice rang throughout the hall, his wand at the ready. Before Draco could even respond a hex hit him, ringing up his spine and his temples. He fell to the ground, Ron looking petrified, "he didn't do anything Harry!" He shouted, but to no avail, Potter didn't care to listen.

Once the stinging stopped Draco whipped out his wand, a snarl forming on his face. "Get back Potter,"
"Or what?" Harry said, wand pointed at Draco's throat. Just then, Hermione came running in, hair flopping behind her, cloak nipping at her ankles. "What is going on?

Ron! Oh, Ron! Are you alright?" She turned to Draco, not caring in the slightest that he was moments away from being hexed by Harry. "What have you done?"

She asked him, voice more concerned than angry. He wanted to laugh, after all, it was absolutely ridiculous. How could they ever, in their right, coherent minds think that he would do anything to Ron? It was stupid, and quite frankly, it made him furious. "I haven't done anything!

We were lost, seems as if you were too shrouded in your own insignificance to notice your best friend disappearing." Draco hadn't forgotten about the letter situation. In fact, it was the prime subject of his thoughts for the majority of his and Ron's argument. He couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. Harry laughed, full of bitterness and just a hint of confusion.

"Oh? Is that what you're telling people?"
"It's true Harry! He didn't do anything!" Ron said, throwing himself in front of Draco. Harry looked at him, the only present emotion being that of surprise.

"What?" He asked, something seeming to click in his mind. "Wait, wa-"
"Mr. Potter, to my office, NOW!" The headmaster boomed, his voice ringing throughout the halls. All of the onlookers continued walking, heads down, scampering complacently to class.

"Mr Weasley, Mr.Malfoy, to Madam Pomfrey's the both of you," before Harry walked away Dumbledore made it a point to add, "Oh, and I shall be seeing you in my office directly after Mr. Malfoy."

___
The questions she asked were routine; Do you have any injuries? Any wounds? Are either of you frost bitten? Draco answered them nonchalantly, not wanting to shine a light on the contents of the night prior. Ron was Munich the same, somewhat quiet.

Yet, their eyes never moved from one another. It was like, magic, quite literally. Draco couldn't put it into words, but, when he looked at him it was like every feeling, every emotion in his body was turned up to one hundred. His hair, the way it felt under his fingertips, his body, the way it felt when his arms were wrapped around it. How could someone be so perfect?

Madam Pomfrey checked their temperature, and their heart rate, and pretty much everything else that could have led to some vital anomaly. It all checked out, they were as healthy as when they left. "So," she said, her red dress in ruffles, "do either of you want to tell me how you survived last night?" Ron and Draco looked at each other, faces of desperation, of wanting. Merlin, Draco would have given anything to still be laying on the couch with Ron.

"Um, we built a fire," Ron said, toying with the cuff of his sweater. His cheeks were redder than that of a tomato. "You built a fire? Where was this exactly?" She asked, clearly not believing a word of the story.

"In the um, uh-"
"The cave, where we caught the camazotz." Draco chimed in, putting an end to Ron's blabbering. Speaking of, Snape had taken the cage before they made it to Madam Pomfrey's room, banishing it to the depths of his lair with the other kids' creatures. However, Ron was happy to not see the leaf-nosed fiend any longer . "Oh, and you slept there I presume?"

They both nodded, clearly flustered by this string of thought. "Well, it seems as if you are both cleared. Take a leave of your classes for today," she looked to Draco, "expect you Mr. Malfoy, you are wanted in the headmasters office. Parting the shared hospital bed that he and Ron sat on was probably the second most irritating thing to happen that day. He didn't think, after that night, that it would be possible to ever part from him again.