Bitter Chocolate - (A 'Veronica Weasley' sequel) || Draco Malfoy

30 - The Last Temptation of Ronnie

"So, what have you got planned for the rest of the day?"

Draco, who had now found some clothes, looked up at me expectantly from the sofa as I entered the living room, still wearing my pjs because I couldn't be fucked to get dressed ever again.

I was still too sore after that fucking degrading article.

"Nothing." I shrugged throwing myself heavily down on the far end of the sofa. "TV I guess."

"But it's your birthday!" He spluttered. "Don't you have plans?"

"I don't usually celebrate birthdays." I muttered, picking up the remote control, wishing he would just drop the fucking 'b' word.

The truth was, no one in my family celebrated birthdays since the Battle of Hogwarts. The guilt of being alive when Fred was dead was too much for us.

"What?" Draco's face dropped, his brow creasing in a frown.

"Well I'm hardly going to go out after that fucking great start to the day! I'm literally the laughing stock of the country! No, I'm just going to crawl into a hole and die." I declared as I defiantly pointed the remote at the TV and started flicking through channels.

"I'd miss you if you did that," Draco said, after a pause.

I looked over at him and noticed he was studying me carefully, his silver grey eyes glinting sadly in mine. I had to fight the sudden urge to throw myself into his arms and let him comfort me.

It frightened me how close I'd been to giving myself to him earlier; how lost and caught up in desire I'd gotten just by the mere scent of him.

"I'm going to put the kettle on," I mumbled, jumping up and practically flew out of the room. I didn't trust myself around him anymore; I knew it was a mistake letting him get this close to me again.

The problem was I never fucking learned.

"Why don't you celebrate birthdays?" He asked, following me into the kitchen. "Don't your family give you presents? And what about Potter and Granger?"

I sighed heavily, loudly slamming cups down on the side. This fucking git.

"The only birthday Harry ever celebrates is his own and I've asked Hermione to respect my wishes and not mention it. My family... well let's just say they have the same stance as me."

A rushing sickness swooped low through my stomach as I recalled Harry's plans for the one birthday we all found the most painful to address. It was such an intense feeling that I had to slam my hands down on the counter to steady myself.

"Ronnie?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse with concern. "Are you okay?"

"He's going to have the christening on... on his birthday." I whispered, feeling my whole body tremble with the ache of mentioning him. "Fred's."

Without a word, hands immediately clamped on my arms as Draco forced me round to face him and pulled me into his embrace, stroking my hair as I nuzzled my face into the bare skin of his neck.

"Is this what last night was about?" He murmured in my ear as I found myself clinging to him; using him as a lifeboat to stop myself from drowning in my sea of pain.

Slowly, I nodded; my face still pressed against his neck. He smelt so good, I didn't want to ever let him go. His arms tightened around me, as if sensing my neediness, holding me close to him.

"Do you want me to have a word with the fucker?" Draco growled. "Because I've gladly got one or two things I'd like to say to him."

"Probably best you don't, no offence, but I've been to enough funerals to last me a lifetime." I muttered bitterly.