Stupid Ron Weasley, blood dripping down his chin. Grinning and pleased.

His own voice, sounding angry. "I don't know how to do things if it isn't just me facing them alone."

Ron, beaten and laughing. "Better learn."

Draco rolled over onto his back, fuming.

His own stupid brain was fighting him, keeping him from just falling asleep.

"Because. I like you. I mean, I like you now."

Draco snapped his eyes open, tired of seeing Ron bloody Weasley in his mind.

He refused to believe what he was starting to suspect. Him, actually miss having a miserable thing like Weasley around?

Absolutely ridiculous.

Weasley was trash. Poor Muggle-loving trash from a disgraceful family, with Mudblood friends and Harry bloody Potter leading him around like a dog.

Pathetic. Really.

"It's just a stupid present, is all…I wanted to give you something." There was Ron with that shy smile. And the queen. That stupid chess queen.

Draco looked over, and there it was at its usual spot by his bed.

He really needed to throw the thing away. Break it into a hundred pieces right in front of Weasley, watch him fall apart.

He reached out and took hold of it, looking for any sort of line in the marble to show where Potter had broken it. He remembered that moment well -- he remembered his own panic at seeing the thing break.

No. Not panic. Just anger. He could smash the thing up if he wanted to. He just wasn't about to let Potter smash it for him. That was all it was.

He set it back down carefully and sighed, rolling onto his side.

Ron again. Bloody, sincere. "I'm your friend now."

Damn it all.

***

"I see Mr. Weasley has decided to honor us with his presence today. How delightful."

There were snickers from Draco's table.

Ron just flushed. He should have known Snape would say something, even if none of the other teachers had.

Snape walked over to him slowly. "Is it too much to hope, Weasley, that you've read up on the things you missed while you were away?"

Ron hesitated. Hermione had taken him through it, of course, but he had only really half-listened.

"I would hope, for instance, that if I were to whip up an Elixir of Internment you would know exactly what to do to keep from being petrified."

Ron nodded weakly.

Snape practically smiled. He reached into his robe.

Ron swallowed, his heart beating faster.

Not again. Not another demonstration that ended with him humiliating himself in front of everyone.

"Professor Snape?"

Ron and Snape both looked over in surprise at the interruption.

Draco sat up stiffly. "I was wondering if you could answer a couple of questions about the uses of dragon scales."

Snape raised his eyebrows. He glanced at Ron, then back at Draco, and then stood up straight. "Read the lesson again, Weasley. Alright, Malfoy, what are you having problems with?"

Ron breathed out as Snape turned his attention away, going over to Draco's table.

He frowned a moment later -- Draco had saved him. Draco had stopped Snape humiliating him.

He looked over at Draco once Snape had answered his question and gone back to the front of the class.

Draco ignored him, glaring out at the classroom.

Ron felt Harry's eyes and glanced at him.

Harry was frowning in suspicion.

Ron shrugged. When Harry turned back to Snape, he allowed himself to smile.

Things were going just as he thought.

***

"Ron?" Hermione sounded impatient. "Can you at least pretend to pay attention?"

Ron blinked and turned to her, smiling slightly. "Sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Answer the question, or next time Snape really will poison you in front of everyone."

"Uh." Ron turned his eyes back to his textbook.

Harry watched them both. Hermione was relieved to have Ron back, which she of course demonstrated by nagging at him worse than usual.

Harry was happy himself, but still waiting. Because Ron wasn't really back yet. Not completely. He smiled again and talked to them, but he still wasn't eating much. He still didn't laugh like he used to.

He still watched Draco like he was haunted.

Ron grimaced at the textbook suddenly. "My brain is fried, Hermione. I can't even read the words anymore."

She sighed loudly. "Oh, all right. I guess we've done enough. But we'd better go through it once more before we have Potions again."

Ron grinned. "Of course. Later." He stood up.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked a little too quickly.

Ron just flashed a smile. "Ginny's sending a letter off to mum today, and she's waiting for me to write them a little something before sending Errol out. God knows he can't handle two trips."

Harry laughed. "Right. Tell them I said hi. And thank your mum for the candy at Halloween."

Ron waved his acknowledgement and left.

They fell into silence for a while after he was gone. Hermione was stuck in her book, and Harry was lost in his thoughts.

Ron was sort of filling up his mind every second lately, and he couldn't shake it off. He felt like he had to keep an eye on him constantly, had to watch his back and make sure he didn't get hurt again.

He was surprising himself with how possessive he suddenly felt. Ron could take care of himself, really. Especially now that all this with Malfoy had happened. Harry figured it would take a lot after Malfoy for Ron to start trusting someone he had no reason to trust.

Still, he worried. A lot. He worried that Ron wasn't eating, and he worried that Ron sighed and tossed and turned most of the night instead of sleeping.

He worried that despite the smiles, Ron wasn't the same person he had been. He hated to think someone like Draco Malfoy could have that big an effect on his best friend.

After long minutes of thinking about it, Harry was pulled out of his thoughts by Hermione. "You can go talk to him."

"What?" He turned to her.

She smiled. "You've been staring at that door since he left. Why not go talk to him?"

Harry shrugged, flushing a little. "He's writing a letter. Besides, we have been talking."

"I've noticed." Hermione studied him. "Harry, do you think maybe you're treating him a bit too carefully?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…well, he isn't going to start acting like Ron again if we don't start treating him like Ron, is he? You look like you're scared to say anything because you're worried he'll take it wrong and get upset."

"That's not it." Harry sighed. "Not really."

She looked dubious.

"Well, it is a little bit. You know, some of what happened with Malfoy was my fault."

"How in the world do you figure that?"

"I haven't been a good friend to him."

"You have! You've been great, Harry!"

Harry wondered. "He's a hero, really, for what he did last year. Sacrificing himself the way he did. He did that for me. And what does it say about me that I didn't try and stop him, or offer myself instead?"

"Ron said it himself, Harry. You were the one that had to keep going. It was your job to get the stone from Quirrell."

Harry frowned. "Well. Whatever it was, I still feel badly. Now here's my chance to make it up to him, and I don't really know what to do. He's the one in trouble, and I don't have anyone I can fight to make it better. Though punching Malfoy in his smug little face would make me feel better."

"Not just you," she retorted under her breath.

He smiled. "This may sound odd, but I've only just realized how much I…I'd hate it if this got the best of him. I want him to get over this, and I want to help if I can."

She returned the smile. "You're a good friend, Harry. Don't ever tell yourself you aren't."

"I wish I knew what to say to get him back, that's all. It isn't that I'm scared to say anything, I'm just busy trying to figure out what the right thing to say is. I want Ron back, Hermione."

She nodded. "I know. I do, too." She looked over again, and her eyes caught on someone behind Harry. "Oh."

Harry turned around and saw Ron there. He had a scrawled little letter clutched in his hand, and a strange look on his face.

Hermione instantly got to scolding him. "How long were you standing there eavesdropping, Ron Weasley?"

Ron glanced at her. "Not long." He looked back at Harry. "You know it isn't your job, right?"

"What isn't?"

"Fixing me." He smiled a little. "It's mine."

Harry stood up and went to him. "But I can help. I want to help."

Ron shook his head. "You do." He lowered his voice. "Honestly, Harry. You've been really great through all this. Especially now that…well, now that you know…" He shrugged, flushing.

Harry frowned. "Now that I know what?"

Ron glanced over at Hermione, and lowered his voice even more. "How I felt. About him. Now that…you know. How disgusting I am."

Harry drew back, shocked. "What? You…" He remembered the conversation suddenly. "Oh, Ron! I really have been horrible. I just never know the right thing to say."

Ron blinked. "What?"

"I never thought you were disgusting! I…never could. You're great. You're brilliant."

Ron frowned. "You said…"

"Well, I wasn't talking about you. It was just the idea of someone actually loving…him." He made a face. "Just the thought of him and…anyone." He shuddered.

Ron blinked, then laughed. "You really don't like him, do you?"

"Of course not! Especially now! I really think I completely hate him. But you! Ron, you're bloody well off your rocker if you think I could ever think of you that way. No matter who you love." He reached out and plucked at Ron's tattered robe, flushing. "Even if it is…you know. Another boy or something." He smiled, feeling suddenly a little shy and strange.

Ron looked at him for a long moment, then looked down at his hand. "Harry."

Harry dropped his hand instantly, self-conscious. "I'm gonna…finish studying." He left Ron fast and went back to the table.

Ron approached the table slowly, his eyes on Harry. He reached them and seemed to reach some sort of decision. He dropped the letter on the table. "Give that to Ginny when she comes, okay?"

Hermione took it, looking up at him. "Where are you going?"

Ron looked determined. "I'm going to go get myself back."

***

Draco sauntered down the hall, feeling smug even though he was headed for detention.

It had been worth it, telling Sprout exactly what he thought of her stupid enchanted tentacula vines.

He was on the warpath lately. Even Snape had snapped at him after class for speaking up and interrupting his toying with Weasley.

He was angry at everything for some reason.

Probably because he wasn't getting any sleep.

"Draco?"

He stopped at the quiet voice and stared in front of him.

There was the man himself. Weasley, looking all miserable and pathetic. And ashamed.

Draco smiled for the first time all day.

Weasley looked at the ground. "Can I…can I talk to you for a minute? Please?"

Draco glanced back at his shadows. "Go on."

Crabbe and Goyle went without a word, wearing matching smirks.

Draco turned his attention to Weasley, smirking. "Come to beg? You want me back that badly? Or did you just want to spend a few minutes alone with me?"

Ron looked up.

Draco blinked in surprise.

Gone was the sadness and shame. On his face instead was a sort of cold determination.

And suddenly Ron strode forward, running into him and pushing him back against the wall. His hands looped into Draco's robe and held him there. "See? You're not the only one who can play tricks." His voice was low.

Draco swallowed, almost frightened for a moment.

Then he remembered who he was, and he looked down at Ron's hands with a glare. "You might want to get your hands off me, Weasley."

"I don't think so, Malfoy. I've got a few things I want to say."

"You think anything you can say will change what happened? You're pathetic."

"No. I'm not. And I don't want to change a single thing. Because I see you for what you are now, Malfoy. You planned everything out so well, didn't you? Every little word of it, every little move."

He leaned in suddenly. "Or did you? See, I wonder. You had your little plot in mind, but it didn't go the way you wanted it to. That's why you broke it off the way you did. Just you and me. That's not the way you wanted it. You wanted to do it loudly in front of everyone. But you couldn't."

Draco reached up to pry his hands off.

Ron held on to him like a vice, though. "You wanted to sit back and enjoy watching me miserable. You wanted to laugh at me once you humiliated me enough. You thought you'd love it." He smiled suddenly, grimly. "But you don't. You don't enjoy it at all. I'll bet you keep thinking about me. Wondering about everything. Don't you?"

Draco laughed. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm right." Ron met his eyes. "And you know it."

Draco faced him steadily for a minute, then broke his gaze and struggled to get him off. "Let go of me, Weasley."

"I think you slipped up more than you meant to. I think you enjoyed being with me. I think you stopped Snape yesterday because you feel bad. You don't like watching me suffer the way you used to. And you really think you won?"

Draco shoved at him.

He didn't even seem to feel it. He was planted right where he was. "I disgust you, do I? You lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me." He leaned in, his breath hitting Draco's mouth.

Draco leaned in despite himself, then realized what he was doing and pulled back so hard he hit his head on the wall.

Ron smiled, cold. He hadn't missed the reaction. He leaned in even closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "We both know who started it, don't we? Lie to anyone you want, you have to live with the truth."

"Weasley. I'm warning you…" Draco trailed off when he heard how weak his own voice sounded.

Ron smiled. "I'll be done in a minute. And then you can go back to Goyle and Crabbe and your father and pretend you're as tough as you wish you were."

Draco growled and reached into his robe, grabbing for his wand.

One of Ron's hands left his robe and reached down, pulling his arm to a halt. "Not this time."

Ron's hand brushed over the other thing Draco had taken to keeping in his pocket.

Ron's eyes widened, and his smile grew. "Well. Isn't that lucky?" His other hand left Draco's robe and reached in searching.

Draco surged up, trying to break away, but Ron had his arm tight in his grasp, and he squeezed even tighter. "Be still."

Draco glared at him, but stopped fighting.

Ron found what he was looking for and pulled out his hand. He smiled at the sight of the chess queen. "Carry this around, do you?"

Draco felt his face heat in a flush. He twisted himself fiercely out of Ron's grip. "Weasley…"

Ron held the queen. He looked to Draco. "Sorry. This is what I came for. I don't think you should have it anymore."

Draco opened his mouth, then shut it again and just glared.

Ron turned to go, but hesitated. He looked back at Draco as if he wanted to say something.

Draco straightened his robes, glowering. "What?"

Ron shrugged, looking away. But in that second before he turned, Draco saw a flash of something in his eyes. Some emotion.

It looked like pity.

Ron left without saying anything else.

Draco watched him go.

***

Harry grinned when Ron came in. "Hey."

Ron smiled back easily, moving to his bed. Something was clenched in his hand, and he set it on his table.

Harry squinted at it in surprise. He'd seen that chess piece before. "Malfoy had that."

Ron looked down at it thoughtfully. He just nodded, but a moment later seemed to realize what Harry said and turned to him. "You saw it?"

Harry nodded. "He was carrying it with him the other day. We…well. We may have got into a bit of a fight, and it broke. He looked like he was about to start sobbing over it until I did the reparo."

Ron smiled. "Did he really?"

Harry frowned up at him. "It's yours?"

Ron hesitated, then picked it up and brought it to Harry's little desk. He sat on the edge of the desk and held it out. "It's mine. It was a present. Last year. McGonagall."

Harry reached out and took the piece, looking it over.

He breathed in when he looked at it carefully and saw in his hand the miniature version of the exact same queen that had almost taken Ron from him the year before. The one Ron had put himself in front of so Harry could win the game.

Harry hated that queen when he saw her in his dreams. Visions of her were always followed by visions of Ron lying on the ground in a heap, and the feeling of helpless panic of being stuck in his spot until the game finished, of not being able to go and help. Of not knowing if his best friend was alive or dead.

"Why would she give you this?" he asked finally, handing the piece back quickly.

Ron took it and regarded it. "She didn't say, really. Just handed it to me and said 'good play, Mr. Weasley.'" He smiled a small, private little smile. "I think I understand it better now, though. The queen…it's a good piece. If you lose your queen, you know, the game is almost lost. She's strong." His eyes lost their focus, going inward. "Powerful. Can move anywhere. Do anything." He spoke softly.

Then he shook his head to clear it and smiled at Harry. "But she doesn't call all the shots. You know? She's a good piece to have, but behind her there's the king. He isn't much to play with -- his moves are too limited. He doesn't stand out or anything, really. But the game doesn't end until you beat him. And he's harder to get to than people think."

Harry tilted his head and studied his friend. "I get the feeling there's an important lesson in there that I'm missing."

Ron laughed and hefted the piece. He moved back to his bed to set it down on the table again. "No. No lesson. I'm just talking about nothing, really."

"You've never showed it to me before," Harry realized suddenly. "I never even saw it until I ran into Malfoy."

Ron shrugged. "Well. You were in hospital when she gave it to me. I guess I was embarrassed that anyone would make a big deal out of it, especially knowing that what you went through later was so much harder. And really, you deserved it more than…"

Harry's face twisted in a disapproving scowl.

Ron held up his hands in surrender. "I'm showing you now. I won't hide it anymore."

"Good."

Ron smiled at his little chess piece. "It was a bloody good game though, wasn't it?"

Harry stood and went over to him. He clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder and looked down at the chess piece for a moment.

He hated that queen. Honestly. But he smiled when he saw the pride in Ron's eyes as he looked at it. "Best game I've ever seen," he answered, looking to Ron. He hoped his own eyes clearly showed the same amount of pride, because he felt it right then.

Ron turned to him, and his cheeks flushed pink. He grinned and reached out and brushed a finger down Harry's robe before dropping his hand. "Thanks, you know."

"For what?"

Ron looked up at him, then blushed darkly as he leaned over and pressed his lips to Harry's cheek. "Being here." He grinned at the ground shyly, completely red.

Harry's hand rose to his cheek unconsciously and brushed over that spot. He blinked at Ron with a feeling like wonder boiling up inside him.

Ron turned away, still grinning. "We should go visit Hagrid. I should probably thank him as well."

"Hagrid? Oh, for letting you stay with him."

"That, too." Ron reached for his sweater.

When he straightened up again Harry was there. His heart was beating loudly, but he found courage from somewhere to return the shy kiss, his lips brushing the soft skin of Ron's cheek. "Let me know," he said in a low voice that was almost a whisper but still urgent. "When you're ready, let me know."

Ron looked at him in surprise, and if his grin earlier had been big it was nothing compared to the one that split his face in two a moment later. His eyes lit up, and suddenly every bit of that strange sadness that had coated him for days was gone like it had never been there. "I will."

Harry turned away to get his own sweater, feeling heat in his face. Heat everywhere.

Maybe after visiting Hagrid they should venture down into the depths of Slytherin's dormitory. Harry still hated Draco Malfoy for everything he had done, but he had the feeling that before too long he'd want to thank him as well.

End