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jaguar • freckles
11 • Fanfic • Harry Potter • Ron/Draco 
4th-Apr-2012 11:08 pm
fandom • aquaman
Title: Under My Skin: Tea for One
Author/Artist: awry
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Rating: G
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Post-Hogwarts, AU. Ron is fed up, with everything. In his anger he leaves the wizarding world only to run into the unlikeliest of people years later.
Concrit?: yes
A/N: Beta‘d by themeadow_song, toxiic_smile and rons_pigwidgeon. Thank you so much for betaing this for me, you three are the best. ♥ First time writing this pairing or slash for that matter.

By the time that the second war had ended Ron Weasley had had enough. Enough of the fighting, death, mourning, the emptiness that he started to feel and he’d had enough of being a wizard. But most of all he’d had enough of being Harry Potter’s sidekick. Always being just second best to Harry. One day, just a few months after the final battle, Ron packed his bags and left. He left one note the day he disappeared.

Good-bye.

-Ron Weasley


That was it, nothing more to indicate where he was going or when, if, he’d ever be back. He never planned on going back. He wanted a chance to be Ron Weasley. Not Harry Potter’s best friend or just another one of the Weasley children. It was time for Ron to prove him, even if it was just to him. He found a cheap flat in Somerset, a town in Southern England, between Wiltshire and Devon. He’d found a job working in a muggle restaurant down the street from his flat. He worked five nights a week waiting tables. It wasn’t his dream job but it paid the bills.

It’d been two years since that night he left and he’d not looked back. Once he’d got settled into his new flat, his new lifestyle, he had stowed his wand away and not thought of it since. He received owls regularly throughout the last two years, but every time he received a letter he simply put it in a desk drawer and never thought of it again. He never opened a single one of the letters. He’d not seen or heard from another wizard in over two years. His life was pleasant, almost enjoyable, and he was content with everything going on.

It was a rainy afternoon but it hadn’t deterred any of the regular customers from coming in, there was even a steady flow of travelers coming through. Ron had worked the day shifted that day and it was slowly nearing time from him to leave. He stood behind the counter refilling salt and pepper shakers to pass the time.

“Ron table!” a voice barked at him. He sighed, set the salt down and pulled out his order book and pen. He quickly noted the table number and occupants on the order ticket and walked over to the table.

“Good afternoon Sir. My name is Ron and I’ll be your server today,” Ron said without looking up. “What may I get you to drink?”

“Tea will be fine,” a silky voice said.

“Would you like milk?” Ron made the notation on his ticket.

“Yes please.”

“Would you like a few minutes to look over the menu or are you ready to order?”

“I’ll need a few minutes, thanks.”

Ron nodded, folded his order book back up, stuck it in his apron pocket and walked off. He quickly made the man his tea, put the creamer on a saucer and made his way back to the table. He sat the creamer down first followed by the glass of tea. He pulled out his order book again.

“Are you ready to order yet?” he said looking down at the man for the first time. His mouth dropped open and his order book fell out of his hand and fell into the man’s lap.

“Maybe you should have looked up sooner, Weasel,” the man said. “You nearly spilled that tea on me.”

Malfoy,” Ron said through gritted teeth. He nearly bit his tongue keeping himself from telling Malfoy just what he could do with that cup of tea. “What would you like?”

“Weaselby," he continued, tossing his napkin on the table and giving Ron a cold glare, "I had heard of your disappearance from our world, but I never expected this," he sneered, motioning around the restaurant with his hand, "What do they pay you with? Rats?" he said smoothly, "Or is that the meat they use instead."

Ron bit the inside of his cheek, his whole face turning bright red. “My lifestyle choices are none of your business. While this restaurant is not up to your upscale standards it is the best in the area and has the finest meats around. Now can I take your order?”

The ends of Draco’s mouth turned up slightly as if he was holding back a smile. “Seeing that you do not have roasted duck, I believe I’ll just have the roasted chicken,” Draco sneered. He folded the menu up and handed it to Ron. Ron nodded, scribbled out Draco’s order and briskly walked away from the table.

Ron placed the ticket in the server window and hit a bell before going back to filling the salt and pepper shakers he had abandoned earlier. His eyes kept drifting to the corner table where Malfoy was sitting, a book open in front of him. He couldn’t believe his luck, two years and no contact with anyone and the first person to find him was Draco fucking Malfoy. He saw Malfoy raise his eyebrow over the top of his book. Ron quickly looked away and realized that he’d been staring.

“Ron, your order’s up!”

Ron put the saltshakers up and walked to the server window. He placed the plate on a tray and carried it over to Draco’s table. He sat it in front of the pale boy. “Can I get anything else for you at this time?”

Draco waved his hand and sat down his book. Ron gritted his teeth and walked off. He returned five minutes later with a tea pot and refilled Draco’s glass. “Weasel how long are you intending to hide out for?”

“I’m not hiding. It’s called moving on, ferret.” Ron sat the pot on the table.

"Perhaps what you call ‘moving on’ is just scampering away like a coward? Is that it, Weasley? Are you just tired of being second best?" Draco said, cutting a piece of chicken and putting it in his mouth.

Ron’s face turned bright red, for the second time that day. “Malfoy you don’t know what you are talking about.” Ron clenched his fists at his sides.

“I don’t? You ran away and have not had contact with your friends or family in two years and it’s just moving on?” Draco smirked.

Ron picked up the tea pot and walked off without saying anything else. Who did Malfoy think he was? He had no clue what Ron was thinking or why he’d left. He felt an inner voice nagging at him. But Malfoy did know the biggest reason for his leaving and that’s what got to him the most. Malfoy could see why he left and his friends and family couldn’t. He pulled Malfoy’s ticket out of his order book and walked over to lay it on the table. He walked away without saying anything.

Ron returned ten minutes later, only to find Malfoy gone. The only trace that he’d ever been there were the notes lying on top of the ticket and a folded piece of parchment. Ron picked up the parchment first and without looking at it put it in his apron pocket. Next he picked up the money and ticket and took it to the register. He handed the ticket to the cashier and she looked at it then back at Ron.

“Ron he already paid,” she said smiling. Ron frowned and looked from the money in his hands to the cashier. “He really must have liked you,” she said wriggling her eyebrows.

Ron snorted. “Fat chance. We went to school together.” Ron stuffed the money in his apron pocket and felt the parchment against his hand. He pulled it out and opened it.

Weasel,

The food was disgusting, the tea was bitter, and the service was deplorable. Try better next time, or perhaps not. I think living with your family probably has shown you that quality is nothing.

Think of this as something to work from to attempt to better yourself. I do not desire to sit through another meal with despicable service.

DM.


Ron scowled as he read the note. He crumpled it up and shoved it back in his apron. “Sophia, I’m done.” A short round woman waved at him from a table and he walked out of the restaurant and down the street to his flat. He wanted a hot bath and to forget that this day had ever happened.
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