Warning: Male on male sex.
Dedication: To the three folks who reviewed this...if not for reviews, I would not write.
Author's Note: Poor Ron. What's going on in that mind of his? Even he doesn't know. He's got some serious issues that he's working through. Hope you enjoy reading about them.


Joining the Fallen



So my little stunt the other night went well. I knew Draco was just blowing hot air when he kept going on and on about 'be careful' and 'they're going to get suspicious'. Well, I'm waiting for Lord Voldemort right now, and Lucius hadn't said one damn thing about me being punished.


He's got a nice office, I guess you could call it. Receiving room? Big desk, book cases, nice comfortable chairs. I'm pretty well at ease. I'm at the point where my life has just gotten too bizarre to be shocked by anything anymore.


"Ah, Mr. Weasley." The Dark Lord's all in dark green today.


"Sir." I'll never call him lord, no matter where my life takes me. I'll be respectful (rather then find myself on the pointy end of a nasty metal thing but I will never call him lord. He quirks a smile at me, and takes a seat across the desk.


"You're little talk with Lucius the other night saved us quite a few of our number, did you know that?"


"No sir, I didn't." Lucius hadn't said one damn thing about how the attack had gone. And neither had Draco.


"Was that your intention?"


"I didn't have any intentions." I had just been talking.


"Here." Voldemort waves his hand, and there's a diorama on the desk top. It looks like a fortress, on a hill. It's damn detailed, with trees and shrubs and little people. "Place the soldiers."


It's some sort of strategy test. Now I have two choices here. I can play idiot, get sent back to Malfoy's bed, and comfortably ride out the rest of the war. Or I could go all out and prove my abilities.


I study the fortress. It's well fortified, and looks easy enough to defend. The obvious weak point is the sewer entrance, where the refuse flows out. There's a grate, but grates can be pried off. I place a handful of men there, inside the entrance. All exits have to be protected. Walls well defended, gates, towers...


And now the opposing side. This is actually fun for me. It's easy to place the other soldiers, and then go back and rearrange the originals to negate any chance of an attack breaking through. This is definitely the best way to plan an attack or a defense.


I don't know how long I'm at it but finally I'm satisfied. For every move that the attacking forces could make, the defending side has a parry. It's a foolproof defese.


"Quite impressive."


I'd forgotten why I'm here, and who's watching me. I look up, and he's looking at my handiwork critically.


"Thanks." I'm not complimented very much. Draco doesn't count. The only talents of mine he praises are the ones behind closed doors.


"You are an interesting young man. A prisoner, held captive, and yet you offer your help."


"I'm not...it's not like that..."


Yeah, that's a great way to convince myself. I am helping the bad guys. I already have. How many died? And it was my fault that they died. I killed them, essentially.


But I have to think realistically. There's death in war. Why should it matter who? That sounds pretty callous, but it's true. There comes a point where you have to distance yourself from it. If not, how can you make any good decisions? Too many wars have been lost due to personal agendas. War is about as impersonal as you can get.


"No one has come for you." Voldemort levels his gaze at me, and I wish e wouldn't. I hate his eyes...


"I know." Well, obviously.


"No, what I mean is that no one has even attempted. It is very possible an attempt had been made, and was thwarted."


"Oh. Yeah." I'd forgotten about that. Oh well. Like I said, it's the same thing I would have done.


"Now, I offer you an option." I don't like the way he's smiling at me. It's the way a wolf smiles at a sheep. "You have great promise, Mr. Weasley. Great promise indeed."


"Thank you sir." He's waiting for some sort of response.


"I am willing to welcome you to my ranks, if you so choose."


"And if I don't?"


"Then you are a liability." Now this is a smart man. And I know there's not going to be a second chance, or a nice long period I get to use to decide.


"And I have to be killed." I finish for him. Damn. This is not a good place to be. I should have kept my mouth shut.


On one hand, I'm a Gryffindor. Noble and brave and all of that. I can willingly sacrifice myself, but what good would that do? If I don't help them, someone else will. The same end, except in that scenario I'm dead. I don't want to be dead. If I agree, then I'm golden. The only problem I'd have is if he demands one of those 'kill your whole family to prove your loyalty'.


"What are the conditions?" I want to know *exactly* what I'm getting into.


"Essentially, little will change for you. Save the fact that you may now say no to young Draco, should you so choose. I will request your aide in strategy sessions, that is all."


"There's no hidden stipulations?"


"None whatsoever. Your talents are best suited to behind the scenes work."


So nothing changes for me, except I'm not a prisoner anymore. And I can kick Draco out of my bed. Which I'm not going to do. Looking at it from every angle, I can't see any flaws. Especially where it's looking more and more like Voldemort's going to win. And if I manage to work my way through the ranks, maybe I can use some swing when it comes to punishing the guys on the other side.


"All right."


"You are willing to take my mark?"


"Yeah, sure." Such conviction. It's truly a momentous moment in my life. Yeah, right. I'm chucking aside everything I've been raised to believe in and pledging my life to the Lord of Darkness. Maybe this is all some fucked up dream...


"Good then. Please raise your left sleeve..."


This doesn't look like it's going to be fun. And it's not. It hurts like a bitch. It burns, and I scream, and I'm pretty sure I faint. But there it is, when I manage to sit up. Burned into the skin of my arm, it's the Dark Mark.


What a strange sensation, looking down and seeing it there. I'm one of the bad guys now. I suddenly feel really sick. I mumble something, excuse myself, and bolt to my room. Just my luck, Draco's there. I push past him and throw up in the bathroom.


"Ron? What's the matter?"


He's behind me, and he's actually legitimately worried. I can hear it in his voice.


"Bad day." I sound snappy, and I wash my face and brush my teeth before turning back to him. "I just...I..." I can't say the words. I sit down heavily, and he puts a hand on my shoulder. I just show him the mark, and he doesn't say anything for a long time.


"Why?"


"What the hell do you mean why?" Of all the inane things to say...


"Why did you give in?"


"I didn't give in. It was this or die. I didn't want to die." I can't possibly explain my complex reasoning to Draco. Better to put it in terms he can understand.


"Never saw you for giving up."


"I didn't give up." Why can't he see things from my point of view? Because we think too differently. "You're just pissed because I'm not your pet anymore."


"Mmm." Aha. He hadn't thought of that. He is now. "Well. I can imagine you're happy about that." He's all frosty cold all of a sudden. He takes his hand off of my shoulder, but I grab it quickly, pulling him down onto my lap. I kiss him fiercely, and somehow that helps. I just keep kissing him, hands everywhere, needing him. I guess he understands, because suddenly his pants are off, and mine are open, and he's riding me hard and fast.


I feel better, after we finish. Mind's a little calmer, I can straiten things out a little better. He doesn't even ask me to finish him off, which in a way is damn sweet.


"Come on, let's finish this in bed." Okay, so I'm not all that enthusiastic, but I'm still a little fucked up. I push him off my lap, drop my trousers, and spread out on the bed. I'm really not with it when he's inside me. I just lie under him, letting him do what he wants. It's nothing special, but so what? It's never great every time, and after a few minutes ago...


"Are you going to be okay?" Aw...the little bugger cares. Cute.


"Yeah, I'll be fine." And I will be, it's just going to take a few days. I can't just readjust my entire world view in a matter of hours. I think it'll be better if I don't think about it much. "But I'm gonna need you." And the sick, sad thing is: it's true. If I can focus on Draco, make him *mean* something to me, I'll at least have a plausible excuse to placate my bruised conscience. I'm not a traitor...I'm here cause of Draco.


Okay, so it's a pile of shit, but it's better then nothing.


"Me?" He's looking at me skeptically.


"Yeah, you." I kiss his nose. "Keep me with it, okay?"


"I'll do my best..." He thinks I'm barking mad.


"That's all I need." At least, it's something. Anything. I'm a sinner. And so is he, so it's okay. We can be sinners together. "Now...I need to be alone. What you did...great. But I need to sort things out."


"Mmm." He slides off of me, and dresses himself. "I'll take a bath."


"All right." I watch him go, and then close my eyes. What the *hell* have I done?