*Usual fanfiction disclaimer - I own nothing. Anything Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, song lyrics are "Have Mercy" by Aimee Mann, and oh yah, if you have a problem with guys kissing, don't read any further.*


No one would have imagined, a year ago, that I would be interested in astrology. Hell, even I would have scoffed at the idea. But things are different now, and at night I often find myself in the astronomy tower, just watching the stars. They have a cold type of beauty to them, one which appeals to me. It’s drawn me in, and now I love the stars.

Of course, it probably helps that up here I do not have to face any of my classmates, teachers, or the expectations they have of me, of how I act, the way they look at me. It is a simple enough matter to avoid the tower when there are classes – the list is always posted outside the great hall. You can’t trust the bloody idiots in this school to remember anything.

A Malfoy would never be so…so…sensitive doesn’t exactly describe it. Maybe some adjective form of solitude, but I don’t know if I really am a Malfoy anymore. A Malfoy would never, never have done what I did, felt what I felt.

He made me feel so second-best
I never should have let him do it
but when he makes his pretty mess
somehow you just fall into it

Ron Weasly. I have many reasons to hate him, not all of which are connected to our respective family histories. Anyone in Hogwarts would probably tell you I do, and I admit, I certainly act like it. I don’t, though. I’m not sure what it is I feel towards him. Mostly I think it’s just a complete lack of concern, but there are other emotions which catch me off guard sometimes.

Have mercy on him
the love that I gave to him is gone.
Have mercy on him
the love that I saved for him is gone.

Our first encounter was near the beginning of this year, our seventh and last at Hogwarts. I don’t recall the exact date. I never though I’d have any reason to. Potter had finally hooked up with the youngest Weasly, and Granger had somehow got her nose out of a book for long enough to get herself a boyfriend. I never paid any attention to who it was, of course. That would have been beneath me. With those two otherwise occupied, I guess Ron had a whole lot of time, and nothing to do with it.

I had a bit of free time myself, and so was headed over to the Quidditch pitch for a bit of extra practice – much as I hated to admit it, I needed to have any chance of beating Potter at the game. Oh, I’d improved mightily since I started, but I still didn’t have the heaps of natural latent that git did.

I walked onto the field, expecting it to be empty. Needless to say, it wasn’t. Ron Weasly was up there doing loop-de-loops, or something of the sort. I don’t know if he saw me, or if he was finished anyways, but he landed and walked toward the exit, towards me. He stopped several feet from where I stood.

“Malfoy” he practically spit the word out, disgust evident in his voice.

“Weasel” I sneered right back. “Going to meet your boyfriend?” It was low, especially considering certain conclusions I had just come to about myself, but I had to say something.
As I smirked, he grew quite visibly angry. Excellent, I remember thinking as I continued. “Better hurry, I doubt Potter likes to be kept waiting.”

He turned red at that and growled, “Harry’s not my boyfriend.” No surprise there. What was surprising was the undertone of …sadness...in his voice. Did he actually want Potter to be his boyfriend? I wasn’t given a chance to find out, as he ran past me up to the castle.

I shrugged it off and started my practice, slightly annoyed at the delay.

He wasn’t just another touch
he was something I created

The next time I came across him on his own was maybe a week or two later, in one of the tricky areas of the castle, where the corridors would sometimes decide to lead somewhere else or disappear entirely. We were both just walking, in opposite directions down the narrow passageway. It started out much the same as our earlier meeting.

“Malfoy.”

“Weasel,” a smirk, “Meeting Potter again?”

“I told you, Harry’s not my boyfriend.” Again, there was that hint of sadness. I decided to use it to my advantage.

“That’s right, he’s off snogging your sister, isn’t he?” He glared even more. “Presents some problems there to him snogging you!”

“SHUT UP MALFOY!” He tried to shove past me, but I put my arms out, effectively blocking the hall.

“Poor Weasel, can’t have the guy he’s got a crush on.” He just stared at me, open mouthed. “That’s right, I know all about it.”

“Who – How?”

“You’ve never been any good at hiding your feelings, Weasly. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s figured it out himself. . . No, he’s not smart enough for that.”

He looked panicked, this was getting good. “Don’t you dare tell anyone, Malfoy!” He burst out, “Or, or…I’ll have Hermione think of something horrible.”

“Granger! Granger’s too much of a goody two shoes to help you there.”

He was silent, just staring up at me from against the wall where I had pushed him sometime during our exchange.

I don’t know what came over me then, maybe it was just an impulse because of the way we’d ended up standing, maybe my body just felt glad to know it wasn’t the only gay one in that school, but whatever it was, I leaned down and kissed him. Hard. On the lips. It was, well it wasn’t like I would have expected kissing a Weasly to be. “Potter doesn’t know what he’s missing,” I said and turned, starting to walk away. After a few steps I glanced back to look at him, staring after me. “Oh, and I’m not making any promises,” a small smirk, and then I was gone.

and though I loved him much too much
I never thought my love was wasted.

I watched him for the next few days, waiting for another chance to catch him alone. I had tried, you see, but never really forgotten that kiss.

My observations paid off one Friday, when he had left something back in the charms classroom. Of course he told Potter and Granger to go on to dinner without him. I intercepted him just after he got whatever it was he was looking for.

“Hello Weasly.”

“Malfoy.”

“Yes, I’m glad to see you remember my name.”

“What do you want?” his eyes narrowed.

“That’s a good question, I don’t think I’m entirely sure. We both know what, or should I say who, you want though, don’t we?” I was rewarded with his face turning bright red.

“But maybe I’ll see if I can’t find something to please me.” With this, I did just as I had before, I kissed him on the lips. But this time there was no wall to keep him there, so he took off running. I smirked when he took a corner that certainly would not bring him to the great hall.

I had only a moment to myself though, as he soon came racing back at me, ending up somehow pushing me in front of him into an empty classroom. There certainly seem to be a lot of those around Hogwarts.

Have mercy on him
the love that I gave to him is gone
Have mercy on him
the love that I saved for him is gone

“Gee, Weasly, watch where you’re going. Some of us would actually like to get to dinner.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” he said quietly, turning to glare at me. Strangely he had tears in the corners of his eyes, ones which he was obviously trying to hold back. I was struck by something then – the redhead certainly expressed himself when he was angry, but I realized that I had never seen him cry before. I had never seen him sad.

“Let me guess, it has to do with Potter,” I said. “You probably saw him fooling around with your sister.”

He looked at me, astonished. “How did you do that? How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess,” I shrugged. It really had been.

“Yah, well, leave me alone Malfoy.”

“I don’t know, I rather like it here. Think I’ll hang around a bit longer.” The truth was, I had never seen Ron like this before, and it intrigued me. And I could never leave anything that intrigued me alone.

“Fine,” he turned and started to leave.

I put my arms around him to prevent him from going and whispered in his ear, “I’m sure you don’t want to leave me, Weasly.” The results were ….interesting.

He turned, but I didn’t release my hold, so we were almost nose to nose. “What’re you playing at, Malfoy?”

"Whatever do you mean, Weasly?” I smiled, sickly sweet.

“You, you, you know,” he stuttered.

“Do you mean this?” I asked, and kissed him again, a kiss which he quickly pulled away from. “Stop resisting. Don’t you want to get some action even if it’s not with your precious
Potter?”

“I…I…are you offering?” he was stuttering still, and sounded quite shocked.

I ignored his question and focused on the answer he had given me to mine. “That’s what I thought” I pulled him deeper into the classroom and maneuvered him up against a wall before kissing him again. This time he didn’t pull away so quickly.

How do you know who you should blame?
You spend your love, or you conserve it

It progressed from there, secret meetings in abandoned classrooms or obscure hallways. Potter and Granger never suspected anything, they were so wrapped up in their own lives, and as for the goons who followed me around, they really were as dumb as I always accused Potter of being, so I didn’t worry about them.

I’m not sure when, or how, but sometime, somehow, it got to be so I was doing it for reasons other than just messing with his head. I never said it then, but I’ll say it now. I loved him. I loved him, and the hole he had dug himself, the oh-so-perfect mess which he had created.

He may have thought he felt the same way, but he didn’t. I know, because even when we were together all he’d talk about was Potter. It was Harry this and Harry that, and if he didn’t show up it would be because Potter was actually around for once.

I never thought it was a problem, until one night when I was waiting for him and found myself wondering what it was about Potter that made him so much better than me in Ron’s eyes. That’s when I realized what was happening, what Ron was doing, and what I was going to have to do.

“Ron.” I said when he walked in. “I’m not Potter, you know.”

“Of course you’re not Harry. I know that!”

“I don’t think you do, Ron, not really. You’re just with me because Potter doesn’t want you. You certainly wish I was him. I’m your second best, your consolation prize, and you still haven’t given up on the real trophy.” I surprised myself with this metaphor, but I keep going. “I don’t want to be that Ron.” I planted a kiss on his lips, and then turned.
“Goodbye Ron,” I said, and there was no reply.

I went then, to the furthest away place I could think of, the astronomy tower, and it was there where the cold beauty of the stars first grabbed me. I tried to make myself angry at Ron, but it wouldn’t work. The stars, I think, calmed me, and instead I felt just a deep regret that I, usually so perceptive, had not seen the truth earlier, and a knowledge that things would go back to the way they had been, which brought a certain amount of relief.

It’s hard to hear him curse my name,
at least I know I don’t deserve it


Things have gone back to the way they were before, almost. We sneer at each other in the halls; I throw insults at him and he gets red and angry in return. Things are how they used to be, but sometimes it all feels hollow, as if we’re just acting for the benefit of everyone else, and for the parts of ourselves which still don’t want to think about what happened.

I know what I did was right though. I was just his distraction, something to keep his mind off Potter, and that could never have lasted long. I suppose he hates me for taking away that distraction, but what choice did I have?

After that first night, I kept coming up here, the stars and the solitude dragging me in. The love I felt for him faded, but I kept coming. This became my place. I love the stars, and their cold beauty.

We’ll be leaving Hogwarts in a few weeks, so I guess this is one of my last visits. I’d like to say that after we graduate we’re never going to see each other again, but the wizarding world is small. I don’t know what’ll happen when we do see each other, but I doubt it’ll be anything special. That’s already been taken care of.

One thing I know is that I’m always going to find a new place to watch the stars, my cold and beautiful friends, as they move in the sky, headless of any of the petty little plays that we put on below them. That, and that I no longer have a regret as to what happened. What’s gone is gone, what’s done is done, and I can only move forward, and hope he has enough sense to do the same.

Have mercy on him
the love that I gave to him is gone
Have mercy on him
the love that I saved for him is gone

The love that I saved for him is gone