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Oct. 4th, 2004 11:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
so
camillafarfalla and i were talking yesterday about how if i were worried about making sure this dom/ron thing were actually good, i probably wouldn't be writing it at all. i'm keeping that in mind as i post this, the scene that kicked my ass.
Ron had been standing outside the door of Dom’s flat for 10 minutes, his hands in his pockets, staring at the door. He wanted desperately to see Dom again and at the same time was dreading what might happen when he did. He had a lot of explaining to do, and every bit of it was going to sound crazy.
Three days had passed since he and Neville left Dom’s flat by Portkey. By the time they had reached the Burrow, most of the fighting was over. The Death Eaters had found a breach in the wards – meticulous as Hermione was, they were always finding new places to seal and protect. And the DE’s had found one first. But it was small and they could only get through one at a time. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop them from finding the Order’s recently acquired maps of Malfoy Manor and taking them back.
In the final tally, they’d lost the maps, Luna – the first one on the scene - had been injured, and they’d managed to capture one Death Eater. She was no one of particular importance though, no one who would present a real loss to the other side. They’d been hoping for at least Crabbe or Zabini. No such luck. But Ron’s parents, Bill and Ginny – the Burrow’s current residents – were all fine and Ron was grateful.
Most of the time since then he had spent with Hermione, trying to figure out a way to erase the traces of magic use at Dom’s flat. But they had come up with nothing. Unless the area was sealed beforehand, there wasn’t much they could do to remove magical residue. Now when the DE’s searched for Order bases, they’d come across Dom’s flat as a possible location. Ron had kicked himself over and over for this already. He should have just pissed in the dark.
There was no use thinking about that now. He had to talk to Dom. He had to get himself together and just… knock. He rapped lightly three times and waited. His heart pounded as he heard footsteps approaching on the other side of the door.
When the door opened, Ron stood in place, his mouth hanging open slightly. The man who had opened the door was small and thin. His hair stuck out from his head in soft brown spikes and his shockingly blue eyes seemed too large for his face. He was definitely not Dom.
“Uh…” said Ron, checking the number on the door.
“Ah. Let me see. Extremely hot red-head.” He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “You must be Ron.”
“Er. Yeah.” Ron continued to stare blankly. This bloke had an American accent and made air quotes. And he was not Dom.
“I’m Elijah. A friend of Dom’s. He, uh, mentioned you.”
“Oh.” Right, perfectly normal. Just not what Ron had been expecting. “Is Dom home?”
“Well… yeah.” Elijah leaned forward into the door frame, pulling the door close behind him. “But he doesn’t want to see you, mate, sorry.”
This was not one of the possibilities Ron had considered. “What? Why?”
“Because, great shag though you apparently are, he’s not especially into guys whose idea of a good time involves slipping a little something into his drink.”
“What?” Ron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Is this was Dom thought? “What? I didn’t… I would never…”
“Yeah, well. That would be more convincing if he hadn’t called me raving about all sorts of wackiness after your night together. Sorry, man, try again with someone else.” Elijah was pulling back and starting to close the door. Ron threw his hand out to stop it.
“Wait. Listen, it’s very important that I talk to Dom. Even if he doesn’t want me around afterward,” Ron swallowed, “I need to explain some things.”
“Yeah, he said no, though, so no.” Elijah tried to push on the door, but Ron was much stronger.
“He’s in danger.” Elijah raised his eyebrows. “He can’t stay here, it isn’t safe.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you need to go before we call the police.”
Ron let go of the door, not because he was afraid of Muggle police but because the threat itself was rather shocking. He spoke quietly, “Please, can I just talk to him?”
Ron instantly recognized the silver-ringed hand that appeared over Elijah’s shoulder, pulling the door open again. Dom stood behind Elijah, his eyes steely grey, and said, “You can come in. But only if you answer every question I ask.”
“I will,” Ron said, relieved but also wary of Dom’s cold expression.
Elijah stepped aside to let Ron in. Dom spoke right away. “First question is,” he said, holding out his thumb, “Did what I think happened the other night actually happen?”
“Well,” Ron wasn’t sure how to answer, “What do you think happened?”
“I think we went out, came back here, had mind-blowingly good sex and then your friend broke into the apartment with a toothbrush and you both vanished into thin air.”
Mind-blowingly. Ron hoped he would remember to be pleased about that later.
“Mind-blowing?” Elijah piped up suddenly. “Really?” Dom glowered at him.
“Yeah. Sort of. That’s more or less what happened. Neville didn’t exactly break in, and he came to get me, not to give me a toothbrush.”
“But he had a toothbrush.”
“He had a toothbrush.” Ron nodded. “But it was a Portkey… a way for us to get from place to place…”
Dom cut him off, “Yes, of course, that clears it all up.” He went on without pause, holding out a second finger. “Second question. What’s the Burrow?”
Thank goodness, an easy one. “It’s the house where my family lives.”
“And there was an attack on your family’s house?” Disbelief was clear on Dom’s face and Ron felt his heart sink. If this was hard to believe, the rest of what he had to say… well, maybe he shouldn’t even bother. “Why would anyone attack your family?”
“This is what I need to talk to you about. But it’s rather a long story, could we sit-“
“Third question.” Dom interrupted again. “What do you really do – for work?”
Ron took a deep breath. “I… I’m… I’m a wizard. I work for the Order of the Phoenix. Reconnaissance and defense, mostly.” Dom looked as if he were waiting for the punch line. “But, I do really work with Hermione. And I’m in her shop a lot.”
There was absolute silence in the room. Dom and Elijah both stared at him, expressions blank.
Well, great. That had gone well.
“Look, could we sit down? It’s a long story but I’ll try to explain.”
Dom shook his head, “I don’t…”
“Please,” Ron could hear the edge of desperation in his own voice.
Dom hesitated a moment and then nodded and led them to his kitchen table. He sat down across from Ron and Elijah walked around them and sat at the end of the table. He looked from Ron to Dom and back again, tapping his foot on the floor. Ron wanted to stomp on it.
“Well?” Elijah said.
Ron wished he had Hermione there. Hers was a sensible voice that could reference things Muggles would understand and she could put it all in some kind of logical order. Instead, Ron’s words poured out in a jumble. He explained about wizards and witches. About their similar but mostly separate world. He told them about Hogwarts and wands and the Ministry of Magic. Dom and Elijah sat still, looking somewhere between incredulous and worried.
“Well,” Dom said when Ron stopped talking, “That all sounds quite lovely. But it doesn’t really explain your friend breaking into the flat. Or why you say I’m in danger.”
Ron didn’t answer right away. Dom sounded sarcastic. He wasn’t getting through. They didn’t believe him, he knew it. But he couldn’t think of what else to do but go on. So he told them about the different ways wizards saw Muggles and how for some it led to resentment and anger. And he told them about Voldemort - what he did, what his followers were getting up to. He remembered that Hermione said there had been someone similar in Muggle history, and tried to remember his name.
“Hilter?”
“Hitler?” Elijah asked, screwing up his face. “You mean Hitler?”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” said Ron, hoping it would help them understand.
“You’re saying this Voldy… thingy is like Hitler.”
“Yeah, that’s what Hermione told me. Because he kills people who are different from him. And people who threaten his power. And anyone who gets in his way, pretty much.”
Elijah turned to Dom and raised his eyebrows, making his eyes look even more ridiculously large than they already were. Ron understood perfectly well the silent message: he’s crazy.
Elijah settled back in his chair. “Well. It would make a great movie.” he said, starting to giggle.
Ron clenched his fists under the table. He understood that this must sound strange to them but he was frustrated that nothing he said seemed to make any difference. And in his frustration, Elijah’s high-pitched giggle made him furious.
“Yeah, except it’s not really funny, is it? They killed Harry’s parents and his Godfather. Neville’s parents, they tortured ‘til they went insane. They killed Hermione’s fiancé.” He was breathing hard now, “They killed my brother Charlie.” Ron swallowed against the lump in his throat. “And hundreds of others, Muggles and wizards alike. And if they figure out that it would hurt me,” he turned to Dom, “they’ll kill you too.”
Elijah was quiet now. He and Dom exchanged sober glances.
“Is there someone we can call for you? Someone who helps you?” Elijah leaned forward and put a hand on Ron’s forearm.
Ron pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m not mental! I know this sounds strange. I know you don’t believe me. I don’t even care… I wouldn’t care... Just don’t… don’t stay here, please. It was my fault, my stupid fault for using magic in your flat. If something happens to you… Just… please.” He looked at Dom, into those sparkling grey eyes that had smiled up at him from the pillow only a few nights ago. Now Dom looked sad and tired. It was obvious he thought Ron was completely nutters.
“Why don’t you let us call you a cab?” Elijah was talking again. Ron tried to focus on Dom. “Wherever you want to go. The bookshop?” Ron couldn’t stand it anymore. He fingers itched for his wand - Petrificus Totalus would do nicely. But using magic in the flat is what got him here in the first place.
“I don’t want a cab, you prat, I want you to shut up so I can talk to Dom.”
“I think you should go.” Dom voice was soft and low. He stood, walked to the door to the flat and pulled it open. “Just go,” he said.
Ron followed him to the door. “Dom…” he wasn’t sure what he could say now.
Dom shook his head and Ron’s chest tightened. More than sad, now, Dom looked hurt. And he had done that, his foolishness. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and stepped through the door, listening to it click closed behind him.
part 9
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Ron had been standing outside the door of Dom’s flat for 10 minutes, his hands in his pockets, staring at the door. He wanted desperately to see Dom again and at the same time was dreading what might happen when he did. He had a lot of explaining to do, and every bit of it was going to sound crazy.
Three days had passed since he and Neville left Dom’s flat by Portkey. By the time they had reached the Burrow, most of the fighting was over. The Death Eaters had found a breach in the wards – meticulous as Hermione was, they were always finding new places to seal and protect. And the DE’s had found one first. But it was small and they could only get through one at a time. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop them from finding the Order’s recently acquired maps of Malfoy Manor and taking them back.
In the final tally, they’d lost the maps, Luna – the first one on the scene - had been injured, and they’d managed to capture one Death Eater. She was no one of particular importance though, no one who would present a real loss to the other side. They’d been hoping for at least Crabbe or Zabini. No such luck. But Ron’s parents, Bill and Ginny – the Burrow’s current residents – were all fine and Ron was grateful.
Most of the time since then he had spent with Hermione, trying to figure out a way to erase the traces of magic use at Dom’s flat. But they had come up with nothing. Unless the area was sealed beforehand, there wasn’t much they could do to remove magical residue. Now when the DE’s searched for Order bases, they’d come across Dom’s flat as a possible location. Ron had kicked himself over and over for this already. He should have just pissed in the dark.
There was no use thinking about that now. He had to talk to Dom. He had to get himself together and just… knock. He rapped lightly three times and waited. His heart pounded as he heard footsteps approaching on the other side of the door.
When the door opened, Ron stood in place, his mouth hanging open slightly. The man who had opened the door was small and thin. His hair stuck out from his head in soft brown spikes and his shockingly blue eyes seemed too large for his face. He was definitely not Dom.
“Uh…” said Ron, checking the number on the door.
“Ah. Let me see. Extremely hot red-head.” He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “You must be Ron.”
“Er. Yeah.” Ron continued to stare blankly. This bloke had an American accent and made air quotes. And he was not Dom.
“I’m Elijah. A friend of Dom’s. He, uh, mentioned you.”
“Oh.” Right, perfectly normal. Just not what Ron had been expecting. “Is Dom home?”
“Well… yeah.” Elijah leaned forward into the door frame, pulling the door close behind him. “But he doesn’t want to see you, mate, sorry.”
This was not one of the possibilities Ron had considered. “What? Why?”
“Because, great shag though you apparently are, he’s not especially into guys whose idea of a good time involves slipping a little something into his drink.”
“What?” Ron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Is this was Dom thought? “What? I didn’t… I would never…”
“Yeah, well. That would be more convincing if he hadn’t called me raving about all sorts of wackiness after your night together. Sorry, man, try again with someone else.” Elijah was pulling back and starting to close the door. Ron threw his hand out to stop it.
“Wait. Listen, it’s very important that I talk to Dom. Even if he doesn’t want me around afterward,” Ron swallowed, “I need to explain some things.”
“Yeah, he said no, though, so no.” Elijah tried to push on the door, but Ron was much stronger.
“He’s in danger.” Elijah raised his eyebrows. “He can’t stay here, it isn’t safe.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you need to go before we call the police.”
Ron let go of the door, not because he was afraid of Muggle police but because the threat itself was rather shocking. He spoke quietly, “Please, can I just talk to him?”
Ron instantly recognized the silver-ringed hand that appeared over Elijah’s shoulder, pulling the door open again. Dom stood behind Elijah, his eyes steely grey, and said, “You can come in. But only if you answer every question I ask.”
“I will,” Ron said, relieved but also wary of Dom’s cold expression.
Elijah stepped aside to let Ron in. Dom spoke right away. “First question is,” he said, holding out his thumb, “Did what I think happened the other night actually happen?”
“Well,” Ron wasn’t sure how to answer, “What do you think happened?”
“I think we went out, came back here, had mind-blowingly good sex and then your friend broke into the apartment with a toothbrush and you both vanished into thin air.”
Mind-blowingly. Ron hoped he would remember to be pleased about that later.
“Mind-blowing?” Elijah piped up suddenly. “Really?” Dom glowered at him.
“Yeah. Sort of. That’s more or less what happened. Neville didn’t exactly break in, and he came to get me, not to give me a toothbrush.”
“But he had a toothbrush.”
“He had a toothbrush.” Ron nodded. “But it was a Portkey… a way for us to get from place to place…”
Dom cut him off, “Yes, of course, that clears it all up.” He went on without pause, holding out a second finger. “Second question. What’s the Burrow?”
Thank goodness, an easy one. “It’s the house where my family lives.”
“And there was an attack on your family’s house?” Disbelief was clear on Dom’s face and Ron felt his heart sink. If this was hard to believe, the rest of what he had to say… well, maybe he shouldn’t even bother. “Why would anyone attack your family?”
“This is what I need to talk to you about. But it’s rather a long story, could we sit-“
“Third question.” Dom interrupted again. “What do you really do – for work?”
Ron took a deep breath. “I… I’m… I’m a wizard. I work for the Order of the Phoenix. Reconnaissance and defense, mostly.” Dom looked as if he were waiting for the punch line. “But, I do really work with Hermione. And I’m in her shop a lot.”
There was absolute silence in the room. Dom and Elijah both stared at him, expressions blank.
Well, great. That had gone well.
“Look, could we sit down? It’s a long story but I’ll try to explain.”
Dom shook his head, “I don’t…”
“Please,” Ron could hear the edge of desperation in his own voice.
Dom hesitated a moment and then nodded and led them to his kitchen table. He sat down across from Ron and Elijah walked around them and sat at the end of the table. He looked from Ron to Dom and back again, tapping his foot on the floor. Ron wanted to stomp on it.
“Well?” Elijah said.
Ron wished he had Hermione there. Hers was a sensible voice that could reference things Muggles would understand and she could put it all in some kind of logical order. Instead, Ron’s words poured out in a jumble. He explained about wizards and witches. About their similar but mostly separate world. He told them about Hogwarts and wands and the Ministry of Magic. Dom and Elijah sat still, looking somewhere between incredulous and worried.
“Well,” Dom said when Ron stopped talking, “That all sounds quite lovely. But it doesn’t really explain your friend breaking into the flat. Or why you say I’m in danger.”
Ron didn’t answer right away. Dom sounded sarcastic. He wasn’t getting through. They didn’t believe him, he knew it. But he couldn’t think of what else to do but go on. So he told them about the different ways wizards saw Muggles and how for some it led to resentment and anger. And he told them about Voldemort - what he did, what his followers were getting up to. He remembered that Hermione said there had been someone similar in Muggle history, and tried to remember his name.
“Hilter?”
“Hitler?” Elijah asked, screwing up his face. “You mean Hitler?”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” said Ron, hoping it would help them understand.
“You’re saying this Voldy… thingy is like Hitler.”
“Yeah, that’s what Hermione told me. Because he kills people who are different from him. And people who threaten his power. And anyone who gets in his way, pretty much.”
Elijah turned to Dom and raised his eyebrows, making his eyes look even more ridiculously large than they already were. Ron understood perfectly well the silent message: he’s crazy.
Elijah settled back in his chair. “Well. It would make a great movie.” he said, starting to giggle.
Ron clenched his fists under the table. He understood that this must sound strange to them but he was frustrated that nothing he said seemed to make any difference. And in his frustration, Elijah’s high-pitched giggle made him furious.
“Yeah, except it’s not really funny, is it? They killed Harry’s parents and his Godfather. Neville’s parents, they tortured ‘til they went insane. They killed Hermione’s fiancé.” He was breathing hard now, “They killed my brother Charlie.” Ron swallowed against the lump in his throat. “And hundreds of others, Muggles and wizards alike. And if they figure out that it would hurt me,” he turned to Dom, “they’ll kill you too.”
Elijah was quiet now. He and Dom exchanged sober glances.
“Is there someone we can call for you? Someone who helps you?” Elijah leaned forward and put a hand on Ron’s forearm.
Ron pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m not mental! I know this sounds strange. I know you don’t believe me. I don’t even care… I wouldn’t care... Just don’t… don’t stay here, please. It was my fault, my stupid fault for using magic in your flat. If something happens to you… Just… please.” He looked at Dom, into those sparkling grey eyes that had smiled up at him from the pillow only a few nights ago. Now Dom looked sad and tired. It was obvious he thought Ron was completely nutters.
“Why don’t you let us call you a cab?” Elijah was talking again. Ron tried to focus on Dom. “Wherever you want to go. The bookshop?” Ron couldn’t stand it anymore. He fingers itched for his wand - Petrificus Totalus would do nicely. But using magic in the flat is what got him here in the first place.
“I don’t want a cab, you prat, I want you to shut up so I can talk to Dom.”
“I think you should go.” Dom voice was soft and low. He stood, walked to the door to the flat and pulled it open. “Just go,” he said.
Ron followed him to the door. “Dom…” he wasn’t sure what he could say now.
Dom shook his head and Ron’s chest tightened. More than sad, now, Dom looked hurt. And he had done that, his foolishness. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and stepped through the door, listening to it click closed behind him.
part 9