Pumpkin juice with love

Lucius Malfoy once disdainfully told his son that if a red-haired and freckled boy was standing in front of him, he was definitely from the Weasley family, a family where there were more children than parents could afford, and it was not worth even approaching him. Draco didn't come any closer. Because they are not like the Malfoys, because they are poor, because they communicate with this Potter, because their father said so. But is it possible to watch? To look at the back of the head of a tall, skinny boy sitting in front of him at a joint class on the History of Magic, which Draco was actually going to skip, because Professor Beans irritates with his monotonous voice and invariably drives him to sleep. It's nothing, right? It's just that the Slytherin's gaze, walking around the classroom, stopped at the red hair growing back, and I don't care that it's been going on for a good forty minutes. He can't be friends with the Weasleys, but no one forbade him to watch... or rather, to stare openly, but Draco doesn't care about that. Ron puts his head down on his hands on the desk - he must be bored too. The Gryffindor doesn't move for a couple of minutes, as if he fell asleep, and at the same time looks ... well, yes, pretty cute. You can hardly see the face from behind, but Malfoy doesn't have to - he knows it by heart. Every line, every freckle, every red strand - all this has been firmly imprinted in the Slytherin's memory for about two years. Yes, probably since the third year. Since the third year, Draco has hardly looked away from the tall red-haired Gryffindor, who laughs loudly, constantly runs his fingers through his hair (yes, this habit seems charming) and makes stupid jokes, which for some reason makes Malfoy laugh. And he also despises Slytherins and adores Potter, who infuriates to clenched fists when he throws his arm over a friend's shoulder (is it a friend?) and with a smile, she says something in his ear. Just like now. Potter moves closer to Ron and whispers something to him. Weasley giggles faintly and turns to his friend. They are talking quietly about something when Ron's gaze accidentally glides over Draco's face, stopping at him with incomprehension. Draco habitually makes a look bored and contemptuous, almost calmly withstanding someone else's intense gaze. Eye contact lasts no more than two seconds, after which the Gryffindor purses his lips and frowns, turning back to Potter. Malfoy grimaces and looks down at his clasped hands, for some reason angry. Although... he quite understands why, although he still finds it very difficult to admit it even to himself. Admit that... he... likes... the guy? And not just any, but a Gryffindor. Weasley. Stupid, stupid, infuriating, but so cute, especially when he's happy, and Draco can't do anything about the warmth spreading in his chest at the sight of a freckled face and a wide smile that will never be directed at Malfoy. It's painful and hurtful, and sometimes it's hard to hold back stupid tears, bothersome and unchangeable... just like Slytherin's feelings for Ron. Draco tried to deny them, and when it didn't work out, he decided to drown them out with long kisses with beautiful Slytherins, who were also purebloods, just as arrogant, just turned up their noses at the sight of mudbloods or poor people. Which were correct. Malfoy still can't admit that his first kiss was caused by a desire to forget about Ron Weasley, Harry-Damn-Lucky-Potter's best friend. Pansy Parkinson, blushing and smiling shyly, asked if he liked it and if they would meet now, and Malfoy could only mumble something unintelligible, realizing that he had not thought about something like that. For this, he received a savory slap in the face from a classmate and a loud “jerk!” spoken in a trembling voice as Pansy hurried down the hall, and deep down Draco agreed with her. The long-awaited call interrupted the Slytherin's stream of thoughts, and he lazily got up, watching the red-haired back of his head leave the office with Mr. Bespectacled, who chattered incessantly, and Ron nodded and smiled. The next lesson is Potions, and Draco leisurely goes down to the basement, wishing that the Gryffindors had Divination now. Propping his cheek on his hand, he looks at Professor Snape, pacing around the dark office, waiting for all the students to take their seats. Draco loved his lessons. The professor was always insinuating and unhurried, his quiet voice had a calming effect on the Slytherin, and mixing ingredients was akin to meditation for him. During these lessons, you could immerse yourself in yourself, try to sort out your thoughts or distract yourself from them by relaxing for the first time in a day. - Today you will learn how to brew a love potion. Snape says slowly, and Draco raises his hand. - Isn't Amortensia studied in the sixth year, Professor? "That's right, Mr. Malfoy. The potions that you will study today are much easier to prepare, respectively, and the effect of it is weaker. Unlike Amortization, it can cause only a small hobby and lasts only a couple of hours. Write down the ingredients… Draco takes a pen in his fingers and writes it down for the professor. After listening to a short lecture about the cooking method, he opens the textbook on the right page and prepares to start mixing the ingredients. As his Slytherin gaze wanders through the paragraphs, he notes with annoyance that he is still thinking about Ron. It's been even harder for him to get the Gryffindor out of his head lately, and it's damn hard. Why is this all happening to him? Why is he disgusted with Ron? For what? If he could go back a few years, to the Hogwarts Express, when he first saw the future Gryffindor, grimacing and immediately dubbing him a loser, Draco would have changed everything. He would have behaved differently, talked differently, maybe even wouldn't have allowed Ron to enter Potter's compartment. Then he would have been friends with Malfoy, not with this jerk. Maybe Weasley would even accept his feelings.… But it won't work. Theoretically, it is possible to use a time flywheel, but there are too many risks and problems associated with this. So nothing can change, and Draco will always be content with just looking at Ron and stupid snotty dreams about him, about them before going to bed. It works even in small doses. They can't be together. Easy to prepare. Even if Draco decides to confess to Ron, he will never accept him. Like any potion, it is not capable of creating true love, but it can guarantee affection and easy falling in love. Falling in love. I wish Ron was in love with him. The idea came when Draco was collecting ingredients from the lockers. Frozen for a second, he stared into space, realizing that he liked this stupid plan. No, you can't. He shook his head, but when his gaze lingered on the small jars standing in a row in the closet, Malfoy bit his lip. Why not? He can give Ron a love potion. Nothing terrible is going to happen, right? They'll just... spend time together. For the first time in my life. What for? This question did not arise when the Slytherin imperceptibly slipped one of the jars into his pocket. This time, he will prepare the potion especially carefully. 🧉🧉🧉 "Merlin's underpants, what's that?" - As soon as Ron entered his own bedroom, he saw a small box. She was standing on the bedside table by the bed. Strange, wooden, covered in hearts. The guy opened it and saw... an ordinary glass with pumpkin juice. And there's a note next to it. "Pumpkin juice, with love." Ron stared at the note suspiciously. Then he sniffed the juice. Then he looked at the note again. I took the juice and drank it. 🧉🧉🧉 Draco walked down the corridor and couldn't calm down. He was shaking all over, waiting for the potion to finally take effect. If only it would work. He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined Ron coming up to him, and ... but the next moment the guy bumped into someone and immediately opened his eyes. - Weasley?.. Draco's face lost its dreamy expression with difficulty and assumed an expression of indifference. The Slytherin's usual grin was not enough. - Watch where you're going.. Ron's mind was in a strange haze. He saw Malfoy and wanted to say something harsh as usual, but the potion prevented him and a dilemma arose in his head. On the one hand, Draco was the enemy. Malfoy, the son of a death eater. But on the other hand, Draco was so attractive... beautiful hair, always dressed to the nines, and those bottomless gray eyes!.. Malfoy was about to pass by, as usual, go around the bend and carefully watch the red-haired guy from there, when he was stopped by Weasley's hand. In a whisper, still undecided, but with a kind of pleading, Ron said. "Draco, wait, don't leave... Draco stopped abruptly. Did it really work? Did it really work out? .. Ron... Have you fallen in love with him? The blond man looked into the eyes of the blood traitor. And then he felt Ron's arm wrap around his waist. An old dream was coming true. The red-haired guy slowly, as if hesitantly, took a small step closer to Draco and put his hand on his neck. The Slytherin felt the Gryffindor's breath on his cheeks... It was so pleasant: the warmth of his hands, the freckled face so close to his face that Draco couldn't help himself. He leaned forward a little and the guys' lips touched, and Malfoy himself was a little scared. What is he doing? He's a Weasley, Dad said that... But his thoughts were interrupted again. Ron did not want to break the kiss, but only moved even closer, continued it and began to make his way inside the Slytherin's mouth. And Malfoy finally pushed his thoughts away and parted his lips. The redhead's tongue instantly penetrated inside and began to explore a new territory, beautifully intertwining with Draco's tongue.