6. Reciprocation is Key

They were eating ice cream two days later, seated in a comfortable silence that was secretly driving Ron a little crazy. He looked forward to his dates with Draco because it was the only time that he didn't have to hear him speak through the static of a crappy telephone line, and the fact that he was being deprived of his lovely voice was peeving him a little.

Still, he held his thoughts to himself, because he had a pale hand curled into his own and sweet ice cream and in Ron's books, that was pretty much amazing.

"Ronald," the sudden sound of hearing his name from those rosy lips pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to watch Draco properly. The blonde had his eyes fixed on the horizon, staring straight ahead as he took another lick of his ice cream, "since you were so honest the other night, I think it's only fair if I'm true with you as well…"

There was a sudden poignant pause and Ron's eyes widened slightly. A hundred new thoughts began racing through his mind and he felt his air supply cut off with tension – what if Draco was going to be honest and tell him it wasn't working the way he had hoped. What if by coming clean with Draco, Ron had dug his own hole, ending all the future chances he could have gotten if only he had kept his mouth shut?

"I've already fallen for you," confessions from Draco Malfoy were not like confessions from anyone else.

There was no sense of nervosa or discomfort, like Ron had felt when he had first uttered the words, instead it was all crystal clear, like a mere statement.

It was something to be envied, Ron decided, before he leant down and sampled Draco's ice cream through his mouth.

"Mom! I'm not telling him to come over! We already had plans and—"

"Ronald Weasley, leaving that boy by himself would be terribly irresponsible!" Molly turned away from her laundry to glare at her son, "Whatever you planned you can very well do here!"

"But mom, his dad leaves for business all the time and Draco is used to sometimes spending some time by himself," Ron rolled his eyes at his mother's apparent ignorance, fuming on the inside.

When Draco had announced that his father would be gone for work for three days, and that this meant they could stay in and play chess all day, Ron had been ecstatic, to say the least. He had never properly gone over to the boy's house, and the idea of spending the day there with him was very appealing to Ron. He had also rejoiced in the idea of perhaps finding out a little more about the beautiful blonde, through learning more about his environment.

His mother was currently doing a very good job of messing with those plans.

"Besides, I was going to—"

"Sneak off again?" a voice called from behind them, and Molly turned away from the sheet she was currently folding.

The twins and Harry were looking at him as if he had grown an extra head. He cursed inwardly – at this rate, he was never going to be able to see the blonde.

"I don't sneak off!" he blazed, huffing petulantly.

"No, of course not," Fred and George laughed, "you take long solitary walks, or fall asleep in places where nobody can find you."

"For Merlin's sake, discuss this some other time," Molly scolded her sons, giving a vague wave with her wand which sent the linens flying, "it's not decent to keep the boy waiting. Tell Draco he's expected here!"

"Mum!" Ronald hissed.

"You talk to Malfoy?" Harry blinked a little stupidly and Ron wanted to brain himself with something sufficiently hard.

"We're… friends," he stumbled over his words not because he didn't know how to explain what they were, but because he wasn't very sure himself.

Now that he thought about it, what were they really? All the touching hardly counted as friendship, and their fondness for one another had already been established. They dated. Did that make them…

"Friends?" Fred spat the word as if it tasted foul in his mouth, and George added: "you're making it sound as if he's likeable beyond his physique!"

Ron felt his ears burn and his mouth dropped open in shock. Molly let out a squeak of disapproval, flipping her wand to land the folded goods into the basket.

"George Weasley! How dare you be so rude!" she held the basket against her waist as she pointed a threatening finger at her identical sons, "Ronald, we are done talking about this, either you tell him or else I will! And imagine how awkward that would be, huh!"

She left with a finality in her voice that told Ron he would be a fool to argue, for she would find a punishment that would make him regret even bringing it up in the first place.

So it was that Ron found himself pacing the floor of the front door a mere ten minutes later. The idea of having Draco in his house with his brothers – despite their apparent attraction towards the blonde – was not a desired one. Ron had looked forward to spending the day with him, but doing so at the burrow felt wrong. As if he was purposely luring Draco into a place where he would be subjected to the scrutiny of Ronald's meddling siblings.

There was also the fact that Ron's plan of not letting go of the pale boy for the day had now been destroyed, but he decided to ignore that part – spending time with Draco was good enough, really.

The sound of the apparition pop shook the redhead from his thoughts. Before the visitor could even knock, Ron yanked the door open, revealing Draco Malfoy.

He was wearing navy blue shorts that had every logical thought short-circuited, his brain adjusting to default; an entirely too lovely amount of marble thighs was shown, and a slim stripe of excess skin was bared along the seams of his ruby shirt. All these colours Draco wore that Ron had never know about just made him want to swoon or kiss or cry – there was this whole other side to a boy he had hated for years, and if he had only seen that sooner, things could have gone so differently.

Draco was carrying a bag over one shoulder and holding a sort of white tulips in the other, the stems curling around one another.

"You brought me flowers?" Ron tried not to stare too hard, but it was difficult, his eyes naturally drawn to the flesh.

"They're for your mother, idiot," Draco smirked.

Ron blushed at his own straightforwardness, embarrassed of what he'd just blurted out. The corner of Draco's mouth went up in half a smile and he chortled lightly: "I'll bring you flowers next time."

This only made Ron blush harder, and he spluttered indignantly. With a roll of his eyes Draco gave Ron a quick peck on the cheek before shifting his bag to the other shoulder and querying boldly: "aren't you going to ask me in?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded fervently, the heat rising to his ears, "yeah, it's just, when we go in I can't…" he paused.

Draco glanced at him with an eyebrow raised in question. Ron leered back, before leaning down properly and locking Draco's frame into his own with both hands, connecting their lips into a real kiss. Immediately he had pale fingers tangled in his hair and Draco's body melting into his own.

When they parted Draco wore a sleek smirk on his face and Ron felt his lips tingle at the previous contact. It was impossible to deny; he was head over heels. He even revelled in the way Draco's fingers brushed down his neck as he pulled back from the embrace.

"We're going to play chess right?" Draco smirked when Ron's eyes stayed locked on his lips, knowing exactly what was going through the boy's mind, "I brought my own pieces."

He indicated his backpack to testify to his statement and Ron felt this inexplicable fondness for the blonde settle in his stomach. He nodded avidly and then led him into the house by his hand – he couldn't care about any comments his siblings would give him, because Draco's hand was soft and warm in his own.

They passed by the kitchen where Ron had left his pieces before and Molly was cleaning some dishes. She looked up as they entered, her smile widening when her look travelled not-so-subtly from their hands to Draco's pale thighs.

"Good morning mister Malfoy," Molly greeted the younger boy heartily, drying her hands on a towel, "aren't you looking smart today."

There was an obvious innuendo that was poorly hidden – so much so Ron wanted to brain himself – but Draco merely smiled, handing the woman the white flowers.

"I resent that misses Weasley," his smile widened when she stared in awe at the offered gift, "I daresay I always look smart."

Ron rolled his eyes at that, "so cocky."

When Molly turned around to put the flowers in a vase the blonde leaned in closer to the taller redhead, bringing his mouth to his ear, "you have no idea."

The redhead blushed a bright red at the comment, his palms suddenly remarkably sweaty. It didn't help that Draco seemed more than aware of the effect that he had on the older boy, pulling back with a broad grin.

Ron tried his hardest not to seem too phased as he took his chessboard off the kitchen counter and then decidedly leaded the blond outside with a firm hand still holding onto the smaller one tightly.

He spotted his siblings and Harry and Hermione seated near the trees in the backyard, where there was some shade to hide from the scorching sun. Inwardly cursing as he had wanted to take Draco there to play their game, he decided to head the other way – and idea which in itself was rather genius, but proved mute when Charlie spotted them and waved them over.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bill howled when he realised his youngest brother had been attempting an escape, "Draco is our friend too!"

The twins seemed to vigorously disagree, and Ron cursed under his breath at his brother's insistence. Draco seemed mildly amused, though he took pity on the tall redhead, soothing with a quiet tone: "Ronald, we don't have to go over there if you don't want to."

"I wish that was true," despite the simplicity of the statement, it carried a lot of depth to it, and Draco seemed to pick it up rather easily.

As if it had been a mere accident, he slipped his hand from Ronald's to avoid any more awkwardness that would surely ruin their date. Ron was grateful for it too – how he could have ever thought of the Malfoy boy as anything less than most considerate was beyond his own wits.

He settled the board down near his siblings and friends where there was a little shade but they could still enjoy the bright summer sun and Draco carefully set down his bag so he could remove his own pieces.

Ron had only briefly noticed the blonde's chessboard before, but now that Draco was unpacking his things he was able to take a better look. It was obvious to him the pieces must have been expensive, and they were made from a green sort of stone instead of the traditional black or white. They looked clean and polished and important, as Draco treated them with the utmost care.

"They're gorgeous," Ron beamed when Draco took out his queen, the light catching in the stone prettily and accentuating the shine, "were they a gift?"

The blond nodded but didn't take his eyes of his pieces as he set them on the board.

"My father brought them from China," he elaborated kindly, "they're made from Chinese jade, a little heavy."

He offered Ron his King before he could set it down, a look of determination on his face. At first the sentiment struck Ronald as slightly odd, but when he took over the piece he thought he understood. They were obviously something Draco held very dear, and for him to allow Ron to touch them was most likely a bigger deal than the Malfoy made it out to be.

"Man…" he gave a little sigh of surprise when he really weighed the piece in his hand – saying it was a little heavy was definitely an understatement.

Draco chuckled softly at the reaction, "always so eloquent."

"They're just…" Ron didn't want to say anything stupid, but he didn't want to say nothing either, "really pretty."

It seemed that it was a silly thing to say altogether, as Draco just chortled again. Ronald felt the tips of his ear burn red, but the blond had that unreadable smile playing on his lips that told Ron that he had done well anyway.

They started the game off easy enough, with no pestering from any of his siblings, which Ron really appreciated. It seemed that Draco was indeed as serious about chess as he had seemed to be, and they spent most of the time playing in quiet, both deep in thought.

The silence seemed to last forever – nothing but the scrape of the chess pieces, the distant sound of birds, Fred's silent snores and his friends' silent murmuring and that way Draco's wrists seemed to sing as he brought his fingers to his lips in thought – until suddenly a phone rang.

Draco's mobile flew out from his back pocket and called in a deep male voice: "your father, mister Malfoy."

The blond threw an apologetic look Ron's way, but to be honest, since he started dating the younger Malfoy boy he had also kind of grown accustomed with the way him and his father interacted. It was true that the older Malfoy was definitely a right-out prick to most people, but Draco seemed to bring out a fondness in his father, and watching the ice-king thaw with just a quirk of Draco's lips continued to amuse Ronald to no end.

"Father?" Draco spoke in that distinctive tone Ronald had come to refer to fondly as the daddy tone – he sounded as smooth as always, but with a little sweetness there that was different from how he addressed Ron, "aren't you supposed to be in a meeting?"

There was a little sound of a reply and Draco snorted, "I don't know… did you eat too much ice cream like that time in Saquarra? Did you get drunk and pass out in front of the Eiffel tower? Are you going to make me go on forever?"

It sounded like Lucius was laughing, and Ron had to cough to hide a snort when Draco threw him a stern look. The stern look turned into a frown and suddenly Draco's eyes widened in shock.

"He… they sang?"

A loud sound came from the other sound of the phone and the phone flew a bit further away from Draco as he winced. It seemed like Lucius was going off on a rant, because the other blond tried his hardest to soothe him with small tutting sounds.

"No!" he suddenly exclaimed, "It was fine but ever since the opera he's seemed to have lost his mind," Ron's ears perked up at the mention of this, are they talking about me? He tried to meet the blonde's eyes, but he suddenly seemed very interested in the grooves in Ron's chess-board, "don't worry, I'm not even at the house now…" there was a shrill noise and Draco rolled his eyes, "don't be so plain father. I'll tell him," he rolled his eyes a second time, "yes, I'll call you tonight. I'm terribly sorry, you know how he gets sometimes. I'll handle it."

After a couple of seconds the phone shut off and fluttered around Draco's head. Finally the grey eyes raised to meet Ron's, and the redhead felt relief flooding through him immediately. Draco didn't seem angry with him after all.

"My father says hello," he gave a silly little grin, as if maybe that wasn't exactly how Lucius had put it.

"Is something wrong?" when it seemed that Draco was not about to reveal the exact content of the conversation, Ron felt it necessary to insist.

After all, if Lucius was worried about Draco's safety, something terrible might have just happened and that very idea made Ron's stomach clench.

The blond was hesitant, but only because of the presence of Ron's siblings – his eyes flit to them and back again quick enough for Ron to almost miss it.

"Blaise is an idiot," he stated matter-of-factly, "he sent my father singing love-letters. Explicit love-letters. Whilst he was in a meeting. In Paris."

Ronald's mouth fell half-way open before he had the decency to stop it from going any further. Although it was true that mister Malfoy had turned out not to be as absolutely horrible as the redhead had first imagined him to be, he was a force to be reckoned with, and Ron knew he would probably not appreciate being put on the spot like that in front of people he was supposed to be doing business with. Blaise Zabini was a complete asshat, but he did have some impressive balls on him, Ronald had to give him that.

"Why would he send your father…" he stopped at the look of utter disbelief that graced Draco's face, and realised the blonde was doing his best not to roll his eyes. Suddenly, it clicked, "oh."

"Yeah," Draco's look softened at the grumpy demeanour that took over the redhead, "deciding to ignore him may not have been my smartest move."

As if on cue, Molly appeared in the doorway, followed closely by none other than...

"Mister Malfoy?" she called to Draco, getting the group's attention, "Your friend is here."

"Oh come on," the blonde hissed under his breath when he realised that his so-called friend was Blaise Zabini.

He got on his feet when the dark boy gave Molly a thankful smile and the woman retreated back in the house – Ron immediately followed him. He wasn't sure why the Zabini boy was here, but it couldn't mean much good, really, if the boy was resorting to stalking now.

"What are you doing here Zabini?" Draco's voice was cool like ice in the warm summer breeze, and though Zabini acted like it didn't phase him, his previous smirk faltered.

"I should be asking you that babe!" the raven's voice was not nearly as composed, and took on a shrill edge near the end, as his eyes greedily roved over the blonde's body, "You've replaced me with a redhead?! He has freckles!"

The way he said it made Ron believe that freckles were very dirty and the root of all evil – the way Draco rolled his eyes convinced Ron the Malfoy thought otherwise.

"We're playing chess," Draco stated plainly, "I fail to see how redheadedness and freckles have any relation to a skill in the game."

"Don't go smart on me," Blaise seethed, his fists balling, "you took him to the opera! THE OPERA!"

His voice reached a new pitch that made the Weasleys shudder – not even Ginny reached such heights.

Ronald felt the ridiculous need to wrap himself completely around the smaller blond grow with every second they stood there. He wanted to protect the other boy, even though he wasn't sure what of and why – all he knew was that no one had the right to raise their voice at the blond, and he felt like he needed to educate the Zabini about his less-than-fitting behaviour. Dear Merlin. Was he turning into a Malfoy himself?

"Are you still associating with those three?" Ronald immediately knew who the blond was referring to – the three bratty boys they met at the opera, "I swear they're bad for your health."

"Pansy told me you got rid of your mark!" Blaise accused with a pointed finger towards the redhead, "that little twink made you scar yourself and then puts his head on your shoulder as if it's his?"

The redhead balled his fists – as if resting a head on a shoulder was such a bad thing to do! It was hardly that memorable, and he couldn't believe those three annoying brats had felt the need to share all this information with Blaise. Sure, the night had been absolutely divine for Ronald, but was it really something that the Zabini boy needed to get so upset about? He was the one that had cheated, for Merlin's sake!

Behind them, the others shared a look amongst themselves. They had never asked about the bandages they had all noticed the first time Draco visited, but it seemed that some of their hunches proved to be correct.

"You're delirious," Draco insisted, "If you're going to sprout nonsense, you should leave."

The deep affection Ronald felt for the blond only increased by tenfold as he stood there – lying blatantly in the face of his former lover – all so he wouldn't jeopardise Ron's reputation amongst his siblings. He needed a kiss. Or to hold his hand.

Zabini took a threatening step closer and growled: "he-"

He was cut off however, when both Charlie and Bill decided they had had enough of the raven's antics, and both got up their feet as well. Both quite bulky and rather tall, they made an almost equally imposing sight as a seething Malfoy, and Blaise faltered.

He seemed to contemplate his next actions, and then snarled, "fine! I hear your father is in France now? I was just thinking this would be a fine time for us to... reunite."

Ron's eyebrow twitched. His knuckles crackled ominously and Draco seemed to contemplate whether or not to let him go at the other boy.

"Blaise," when he spoke next his tone was so uncaring the group shuddered, "You do not interest me. Leave."

The Zabini boy's eyes widened almost comically.

"I don't interest you?" his voice shook – with disbelief and pain, Ronald thought it was a bit of both, "I stood by your side for years and-"

Draco laughed – hollow and a little scary and Ronald felt it in goose bumps all up his arm. It was a laugh that reminded him of much darker times and darker days and darker men.

"Don't remind me," he almost spat – but only almost because Malfoy's don't spit about such trivial things, "years of fear and cowering and justifying unjustifiable things. To think I was foolish enough to ever put even an ounce of trust in you," he shrugged almost nonchalantly, "I was naive. Trust me when I say I will not make the same mistake again."

It seemed that Blaise was rendered speechless. His shoulders slumped and he stared at the grass for a long while. Ronald could feel the tension radiate from Draco's stiff figure, and knew he felt absolutely humiliated at having had to expose so much of himself in front of Ron's siblings – people he barely even knew for Merlin's sake!

Eventually Blaise lifted his gaze again. His shoulders still slumped, he said resolutely: "I'll be waiting for you at the Manor. We can continue later," and then turned on his heel.

They waited until he retreated back inside the Burrow before everyone let out a collective sigh. Draco shot the older Weasley brothers a grateful look before he turned to Ronald.

"Are you alright?" he said in his sweetest all-business tone.

Ron blinked stupidly at the question – he ought to be asking Draco that, honestly! – and then nodded deftly.

"I'm sorry," the blond apologised, suddenly very interested in his own shoes, "I had no idea he would-"

"Draco it's not your fault," Ron hurried to cut him off, unwilling to let him apologise for something that was out of his control. He put his hands on the narrow shoulders and hoped it sufficed for now, "he's absolutely nutters!"

"You shouldn't go back home tonight Draco," Bill chimed in, "I don't trust that guy one bit! You can stay here for the night."

At this Draco lifted his head towards the older brothers and rolled his eyes, "you Weasleys, so quick to the rescue. I'm a big boy, I can handle it."

"Draco no offence but," Ron gave the lithe figure a little look and squeezed the slim shoulders to accentuate his next point, "he could probably snap you in two."

The blonde looked absolutely appalled at the accusation and Ron hurried to explain further, "I'm sure you're utterly capable with your wand but Zabini looks like a bodybuilder and he could probably beat you in a fist-fight!"

"Although a fist-fight is probably not what he has in mind," Charlie supplied helpfully – which earned him a glare from his youngest brother and the pretty blond.

"If he wanted to hurt me he would have done so by now," Draco said sternly – his voice sounding with finality, "I am not a toddler. Don't coddle me."

He sat back down in front of the chess board, and the look in his eyes told him he was already contemplating his next move. Ron shared a look with his oldest brothers but relented – he wasn't going to let that raven Slytherin ruin his precious time with Draco, and fighting with the younger blonde was something he had been able to avoid so far and would continue to do so at all costs.

That night Draco refused to even let Ronald guide him home, apparently still a little upset at the redhead's lack of confidence in his strength. Ronald couldn't really take his words back now though – it wasn't hard to see who was physically stronger, and though Ron knew Draco was quick with his wand, he also knew he would be hesitant to pull it on his formerly best friend.

It was funny how a couple of months ago he wouldn't have doubted that Draco was malicious enough to curse his best friend, but now that he had gotten to know the real Draco a little better, he knew that he had a pure heart – and even though his friend had wronged him, he would never dream of inflicting him physical harm. He had had enough of that in the war.

He went to bed with a heavy heart. Harry was treating him a little coldly because he hadn't told the raven about his newly developed friendship with the Malfoy, and Draco hadn't called him to say goodnight, probably still a little cross with him. There was an unsettling swirl coiling in his stomach, and for the longest time he stared up at his ceiling, unable to catch sleep.

AN: it was either going to be a really long chapter or a really short one and since I was already spell-checking anyway I figured why not and made it a long one. I hope everyone's enjoying this and do leave me a review please~ reviews are love!