favorite hp ship?
I’m a Dron fan :)
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favorite hp ship?
I’m a Dron fan :)
i don’t want a boyfriend i want a draco malfoy to bully me into love.
#do not perceive me i am busy simping for draco malfoy
From “Pure as blood” by Avilthenaze
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710677
Who would have ever thought that, one day, Ron would willingly seek Draco Malfoy’s company, enjoy it even? The story begins when Harry finds a forgotten potion essay in the library, and ends up forcing Ron to work on a class project with their nemesis. Ron discovers a troubling secret about Draco and finds himself becoming attached to the twat and the endless bantering going on between them.
@polypotterpairs || all male poly ships The Boy Who Lived ; The Boy Who Cared ; The Boy Who Had No Choice
Fred: "Well, well, little brother… turns out you’re our secret weapon."
George: "Who knew a frilly apron could boost sales by 300%?"
Ron: "I nearly died of embarrassment! That bloke was flirting with me!"
Fred: "And you played along like a true professional."
George: "Honestly, you’re prettier than half the girls who shop here… maybe even Ginny."
Ron: "Don’t let her hear you say that."
Fred: "Too late—she’s already glaring from the corner."
George: "Still… best sales day ever. You should wear that maid outfit more often."
Ron: "Over my dead— Hereafter I don't Help You guys"
Harry: "Hold still, Ron—this one’s going in the album." 📸
Ron: "Harry, I can’t walk in these heels, let alone pose!"
Harry: "That’s fine, you don’t need to walk—just look pretty for your date."
Ron: "I’m only here because you said it’d be ‘less awkward than going alone.’"
Harry: "And you look fabulous in red. Now give me a twirl."
Ron: "If I fall on my face, you’re paying for the hospital wing sweets."
Harry: "Worth it."
Fred: “Rise and shine, Ronniekins! We’ve got your Christmas outfit ready!”
Ron: [half-asleep] “Wha—what outfit?”
George: “Oh, nothing. Just something festive, fabulous, and fitted.”
Fred: [waves a letter] “Also… this lovely love letter we found under your mattress. ‘Dear Hermione, your hair shines like the snow on the Burrow’s roof—’”
Ron: [jolts awake] “OI! GIVE THAT BACK!”
George: “Only if you agree to wear the outfit. And help us at the shop.”
Ron: “What kind of outfit—”
Fred: “It jingles when you walk.”
George: “Also includes heels. And candy-cane earrings.”
Ron: [groaning] “Mum’s going to hex you both.”
In Ron's Room ..........
Ron: [crossing his arms, glaring] “This is actual torture.I hate both of you.”
Fred: [adjusting red sparkly skirt on Ron] “Oh hush. You’ve got legs for this.”
George: “No joke, Ron. Your legs are better than Fleur’s.”
Ron: “Excuse me??”
Fred: “You’ve got long, lean, dancer legs. You’re the ballerina of the family, mate.”
Ron: “Stop talking about my legs!!”
George: “Can’t help it.”
Ron: “If Hermione sees me like this, I’ll have to move to another continent.”
Just then, the door creaks open and Molly walks in with a laundry basket.
---
Molly: [blinks] “…Ginny? What in Merlin’s name—did you CUT your hair?”
Ron: [mouth hanging open] “Mum?! Wait—no—it’s me! It’s RON!”
Molly: [squints] “Ronald?!”
Fred: [grinning] “See? Even Mum thought you were Ginny. That’s how good you look!”
Molly: [slowly lowering basket, staring at Ron’s heels and skirt] “Why… why do you look better in that than Ginny ever did?”
Ron: [horrified] “MUM!!”
Molly: [walking around him, appraising like a dressmaker] “Hm. Legs for days. Posture needs work, but you could sell calendar photos in this.”
George: “We told you!”
Fred: “He’s the main character of Christmas now.”
Molly: [smiling fondly] “Well, if you’re going to help in the shop like that, at least let me curl your hair.”
Ron: [groans, defeated] “I hate this Family.”
The war is lost. Ron Weasley is captured.And instead of death… he gets Bellatrix.
---
Bellatrix: “This one’s got spirit. Keep him away from the others. He’s mine now.”
Ron: [spits blood] “I’d rather die.”
Bellatrix: [stroking his cheek with a gloved hand] “You will, little lion. But not today. First, you’re going to look divine.”
She doesn’t torture him the way others would. No Cruciatus. No chains. Instead, she dresses him in corsets and velvet. Lace gloves and dark lipstick. An enchanted collar that burns if he pulls it. And he plays along. Because the alternative is worse.
---
She calls it art. He calls it survival.
But deep down, she does protect him. From the others. From Voldemort. From what’s left of the world.
She says she’s keeping him as a doll. He knows he’s a hostage.
But he's still alive. And he’s waiting.