Ron/Draco drabbles

[icarus]

These drabbles are told from Ron's point of view, and are part of Beg Me For It. They take place between 'Beg Me For It' and 'Sex, Drugs and Death Eater Rock.'



Invisible Friend


Strange, that Draco never mentioned his friends. I mean, I talked about Harry all the time. Actually — now this is going to sound crazy — I also talked to Harry. Little habit I started before Draco arrived, when I was alone. I used to tell Harry everything, and well, I was never one to talk to myself. Heh. Just so long as he doesn’t answer back, right? Once Draco arrived, I mostly talked to Harry about him. Just working some things out, you know. I suppose I just wanted to share Draco with someone, and, well, the whole thing was rather strange.

Comments

[salixbabylon.livejournal.com]

It's really neat seeing all of these. Are they all bits that you cut out from previous stories, or are they a mix of new and old?

Interestingly (to me anyway), this is kind of similar to how I write - bits here and there in a Word file, and then when I have enough, put them in order and string it all together.

Anyway, thanks for sharing them!

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

These were originally from 'Sex, Drugs and Death Eater Rock.' My beta, CLS, told me that among other things, the seriousness of Ron and Draco's situation didn't come through, especially for those people who hadn't read the first part. So I wrote these first person POV cut-aways and sprinkled them throughout, very carefully matching the tone of the section. For example, Sotto Voce, the one where Draco is singing?

It was here:

“It’s all worst for me. I simply liked the name: ecstasy, that’s what I want.” Draco put away the cannabis and leaned on the table tapping his fingers. “I just want you to try everything, before we’re both dead and gone.”

Ron blinked at him, and then his eyes returned to the table. A little hope might be nice, Draco. Not that he wasn’t right, most likely.

“Well. On that cheery note… what’s this goopy pink stuff?” He snapped up an oblong bottle of thick ooze that looked like some kind of love potion. It clung to the bottle as he tipped it back and forth.

Draco brightened. “Bubblebath.”

“Bubblebath? Really?” said Ron. “Without a spell?’

“Yeah. Strawberry in fact.”

“Now, I’d be into that.”

~*~*~

You think after living with someone for months you’d know everything about them. But I came home a little early one day and as I opened the door, I heard this singing. Just one high, choirboy voice. I think it was Italian. I stayed absolutely still, hushed.

I didn’t make a sound until his singing stopped. And I didn’t move for a moment after that, either.

I never told him that I heard.

~*~*~

Ron sank into bubbles up to his nose.

In a tangle of elbows and limbs they had managed to climb into the tub, fit together like a puzzle. They’d taken showers together before, sure, but this bath was a first. The tub was barely big enough for just Ron. A bottle of wine sat on the floor, with a wineglass: they only had the one, so they had to share.

.
.
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Of course, that one was one of the best fits. Once we'd written all these inserts, I ran both versions by someone who hadn't seen the story before. She felt very strongly that the inserts broke up the flow and did not help the story. Very, very strongly. I don't think I disagree with her either. But now the universe has these bits in my mind, and I'd like to include them.

I tend to write in outline form actually, I carry around those old-fashioned composition notebooks, with certain sections fleshing themselves out more than others. Then, when I sit down in front of the computer (if I have the block of free time) I will write an entire story in one sitting, filling in the visual cues and details as I go. 'Beg Me For It' was written in one sitting like that. Likewise 'A Moment of Sin.'

When I have little time, I write in dribs and drabs, not drabbles really, but outline sketches. Sometimes something will get me at the office and I'll disappear into the ladies room at the office, or I'll be writing and look up and - damn it - the bus is already there.

~Icarus