Lay Me Softly Down

LAY ME SOFTLY DOWN

For a moment, all was silent. Then Harry got up, and dared to take a look down the corridor. All hell had broken loose. A mad, terror frenzied throng of students was stampeding down the corridor screaming wildly with fear.

Harry quickly backed away from the door. It looked like that was one route of escape that was cut off. * Unless being trampled to death starts to sound good. * Which it didn’t.

At that moment, Harry also had something more pressing to worry about. Ron was still lying unconscious on the floor. A large, sore looking bruise starting to form just above his left eyebrow.

He tried shaking him awake. “Ron… Ron! RON! Wake up! We’ve got to get out of here!” He shook Ron in a bout of frustration. The corridor was silent now. It was so quiet, that, if you had been there, you would have been able to hear a pin drop.

Harry began to panic in earnest. “RON!” He yelled as loud as he could next to Ron’s left ear. Still no response. He sighed, now out of options. “Sorry about this Ron.” Harry muttered as he slapped Ron on the face with head-spinning force.

Ron’s head rocked violently from side to side for a moment, and then stilled again. Harry studied his friend’s face, looking for a sign of consciousness, of movement. * Come on Ron! Come on, come on, come on! * His mind thought over and over, in a sort of fear driven mantra.

Harry was just beginning to think that he might have to carry Ron out, when he saw him begin to blink, and start to rub furiously at the mark that Harry’s palm had made on the right side of his face. The mark was clearly visible, starting to turn a bright crimson, which stood out in stark contrast to the rest of Ron’s white, heavily freckled face.

“Ron, you okay? We’ve got to get out of here now.” He said as he extended his arm to Ron, who took it gratefully. “Jeez Harry. Honestly, you slap like a woman.” Harry laughed, unable to help himself.

That’s when they heard it. The slow, unmistakable sound of footfalls coming down the corridor towards them. The steps were not hurried, but rather, had a deliberate, well-paced cadence to them. As if the owners of those feet knew exactly what they wanted, and were in no immediate hurry to get it.

Ron and Harry exchanged a look, and the fleeting glance that passed between them spoke more than words could have ever hoped to. Harry’s gaze flicked to the window, and he looked it over in a hard, critical sort of way.

Ron spoke. “No good Harry. They have no locks, and it’s open as far as it’ll go.” Harry swore under his breath. “Then I guess it’s back to the old standby.” He said as he removed his glasses, folded them, and put them in his pants pocket.

Now it was Ron’s turn not to laugh. Without meaning to, they both spoke at the same time. “Break first, and ask questions later.” Then both of them roared laughter, unable to help themselves.

Harry leaned over, and held onto Ron for support. Bright, full tears of laughter streaking down his face, and dripping to the floor below.

For a moment, both of them forgot where they were. They laughed for what seemed like an eternity, clinging onto each other in the black, velvety darkness that surrounded them. Nothing but the two of them.

* We fit good together.* Thought Harry as he looked at Ron, who was at the moment nothing more then a vague shadow in the dark.

Slowly their laughter tapered off, and they looked into each other’s eyes, still letting the occasional, errant giggle escape their lips. BAM! An impact of explosive force sounded on the compartment door, jarring them violently out of the moment.

Muffled curses echoed from the other side of the door. Harry could have sworn that he recognized most of the owners of those voices. He cast a quick look at Ron, whose blue eyes were now glazed over with paralysing, dreamy fear.

As Harry turned, he saw the crazed glass door handle begin to rotate. Inch by inch, oh, so slowly. It was as if he were in some sort of horrible dream, unable to wake himself from his poisoned slumber, helpless to stop the impending horror.

He pushed himself off the floor, and began to make his way towards the door. His pulse pounding thickly in his head, and his vision beginning to blur into soft, edgeless, undefined shapes. The door loomed ahead of him, mockingly close, and yet so far.

* I’m not going to make it. * He thought with a dull, sick feeling. * It’s too far. * Harry was now mere inches from the door. His extended arm, just brushing the shiny silver of the bolt lock’s handle. The door was now beginning to glide open. Harry’s hand grasped the bolt. It was now or never.

He slammed the bolt violently to the left. It came home with a reassuring snick that was more felt then heard. More colourful curses came from the other side of the door. Harry slowly took his hand off the bolt, and planted it on the wall, steadying himself while his legs quaked beneath him, feeling as if they’d turned to Tapioca pudding.

Not trusting himself to stand, Harry stood where he was for a moment, the world seeming to drift in and out of focus. When he felt he could trust himself to stand again, he removed his hand from the wall and looked at the door. The only thing that stood between him and certain death, a scant few inches of pine, * and two inches of steel. Beautiful, dear, sweet steel. *

He let out a pent up, shaking breath. “Harry, we’ve got to go.” “AHHHH!” Harry screamed as Ron tapped him on the shoulder, having momentarily forgotten that Ron was in the compartment with him. “Jesus Christ Ron! Don’t do that!” He yelled lividly, feeling his heart beat wildly inside his chest.

Ron put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, reassuring him with his touch. “You alright Harry?” He whispered through dry lips. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted saying them.

Harry was most definitely not all right. Ron could see him starting to shake, his teeth bitten down hard over his lower lip, and tears starting to well up in his eyes. He looked very pale, except for two rose blotches of colour high up on his cheeks.

He himself had been paralysed with fear. Unable to do anything but stare dumbly at the door, like a deer caught in the headlights, so to speak. He couldn’t imagine the kind of mental strength that Harry must have exerted just to get himself moving in the face of that fear.

Harry, who was the only known person to have faced Lord Voldemort and lived. Harry, the boy who had saved his sister, and possibly many others from the evil of Tom Riddle’s diary. Harry, who had been one of Gryffindor’s two champions in the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year. Harry Potter, the boy he loved.

BAM! BAM! BAM! Three more violent blows echoed against the compartment door, which was now beginning to splinter at the edges. Still more curses echoed from the other side of the door.

Ron quickly pulled himself to his feet, and Harry quickly followed suit. “Grab onto me Harry. We do this on the count of three” Harry merely nodded, still looking at the door, as if transfixed by it.

Ron slung his arms around Harry’s middle, and Harry did the same. Both of them were now devoting their entire concentration to the task at hand. “On my count. One… Two…”

As Ron tensed, his body rocking from side to side, he felt Harry go limp next to him. “Harry?” He said, as he looked to see what was wrong. Harry’s hands were clutching his head. “My scar.” He said, and then fell silent.

He heard the voice in his head, the voice that had haunted him ever since his first year at Hogwarts. The voice of a madman, low and dusty, full of some mad, unattainable desire. The voice of insanity itself. * Harry Potterrrr……*

His scar was now a blaze of pain, like a brand being burned into his forehead. And accompanying the pain, images of death, destruction, pain and torture. He felt himself slipping out of consciousness, the world around him turning steadily deepening shades of black.

“Harry…Harry! Come on, snap out of it Harry!” Ron yelled frantically from somewhere so close, yet so far… Harry shook his head, using all the will power he possessed to keep himself from blacking out. Slowly, the world began to come into focus again. He felt Ron beside him, nervous and tense. * Come on Harry, you can do this. * He thought.

Harry focused on the window again, mentally blocking the voice and the images. Silent tears streamed down his face, bearing testament to the suffering he was going through. BAM! Behind them a chunk of the door broke off, exposing black, booted feet standing outside the door. He bit down on his lip hard, tasting coppery blood.

He looked at Ron, knowing that it was now or never. “Three.” They jumped, Ron’s back facing the window.

There was a moment when the two of them were propelled through the air, seeing the window rush towards them, and then they broke through together.

The window broke instantly, like the most fragile piece of sugar glass. Shards were sent flying into the night sky, glinting in the light of the full moon above. Harry and Ron were propelled onto the dewy grass some 5 metres away, glass catching in their robes and hair.

Ron took the full brunt of the impact, feeling the air being crushed out of him as Harry’s weight fell on him. He felt himself begin to blackout, and then it was over. Ron drew breath back into his lungs, and quickly sat up.

* That’s twice in one day. * He thought with a bitter trace of amusement as he brushed the glass off his robes.

Harry didn’t so much as pull himself off Ron, as slump off onto the cool, wet grass. His eyes had a glazed look about them, which Ron didn’t like at all. “Harry? Harry?! Harry! HARRY!” He yelled, feeling panic start to rise within himself again.

He looked upward, into the forest that stretched beyond them. Many of the students who had been onboard the train were standing at the edge of the woods, while some of them had gone deeper, trampling both shrub and bush, leaving a clear trail.

Ron looked over all of them, seeing varying degrees of fear on each and every one of the faces before him. Most of the students were pointing at the two of them, and muttering Harry’s name with a kind of respectful awe.

Ron looked to his rear, and saw that they were still very close to the train. Somewhere he most definitely did not want to be right now. He slung Harry over his shoulder, and began to walk towards the crowd of students before him.

They all parted, respectfully making way for Ron. When he felt that he was a safe enough distance from the train, he gently laid Harry out on a flat looking patch of grass. The students were now clustering around them, whispering in hushed voices to each other.

Ron kneeled down next to Harry, brushing strands of his midnight black locks away from his eyes. For a moment, Ron did not dare to speak. Harry was still breathing, but just barely. The glazed look was still in his eyes, making him look almost catatonic. He wasn’t even shivering from the chill that permeated the night air.

He was still wearing no shirt, and Ron worried what might happen if he were left too long in the cold night air. Ron unfastened his black cloak, and wrapped Harry in it, in an effort to keep the cold out.

Shouts echoed from somewhere in the crowd of students, and as Ron looked up; he could just make out two bobbing heads heading their way. One brown, and the other a silvery blond.

The crowd parted, and Ron got his first look at the two of them. The brown haired one was Hermione, and the blond boy beside her was, * Draco?! * Ron decided to ignore this for the moment, as Hermione came rushing towards him.

“Ron! Oh, God. What happened Ron? Are you alright?” She asked, in a breathless sort of way. For his part, Ron said nothing for a moment. He just looked at Hermione, unwilling to believe what he was seeing.

When she got no answer, she looked at Ron imploringly with a questioning expression on her face. Ron said nothing, merely fixing his gaze on Draco as he approached, wearing his trademark smirk across his face.

“So Weasley, by the look of things, I’d say you and Potter were having some serious fun in that compartment.” He said as he coolly surveyed Ron’s dishevelled looking hair and clothes. Ron’s lips contorted in a pained grimace as he looked down at the grass for a moment, feeling his ears start to go red at the tips.

“Go fuck yourself Malfoy.” He said through clenched teeth. He looked up, and forced himself to stare into Draco’s steely grey-blue flecked eyes. “You say one more thing, and I’ll feed you your teeth. Rectally.”

He saw Draco’s eyes flash with a hint of dark amusement, and then he was opening his mouth to say something, but closed it as Hermione laid her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t… please Draco.”

Ron turned his gaze to Hermione, who involuntarily flinched. “Don’t talk to me Hermione. I don’t want to hear it.” Hermione looked at Ron, a pained expression on her face. * How can I make him understand when he doesn’t even want to? * She knew that whatever she said, Ron wasn’t in the mood to listen to her. The hurt, disbelieving look on his face said it all.

She looked at Draco, who met her gaze with an expression of indifference. He merely shrugged, as if to say, He’s a Weasley, what do you expect? She shook her head fervently, and looked back to Ron. * Boys * “Ron, it’s not what you think… I was talking to Draco and-“ “AND WHAT?!”

Hermione jumped back as if shot, the complete and total anger that was seeping through Ron’s voice frightened her. He was now turned towards her, his hands clenched into fists so tight, that his knuckles were turning white. “ IF YOU THINK THAT HE’S SO SPECIAL, THEN GO HAVE FUN!” He yelled at the tops of his lungs.

The other students were now slowly backing away from the four of them, giving them a very wide breadth. Hermione flinched again, then looked down at the ground, and Ron could see that she was about to cry. Draco stepped in, blocking Ron’s view of Hermione, and fixed him with a withering gaze.

“Back off Malfoy. I don’t need much of an excuse to throw you on your sorry Dark Magic loving ass.” He sneered as he advanced towards Draco. Hermione stepped out from behind Draco, and attempted to lodge herself between the two of them.

“Stop it! Both of you!” She yelled, desperation seeping into her voice. * This isn’t working.* She thought, as they advanced towards each other, mortal enemies facing off. She grasped Ron’s arm tightly. “Ron please, don’t do it for me, do it for Harry.”

Ron stopped. He looked at her, and in the fading light, she could see two sides of his personality warring with each other. It was almost like two people were fighting for control inside his head, one a man, the other yet a child. One dearly wanting to knock Malfoy flat on his ass for insulting him yet again, the other tempered by his concern for Harry.

After a moment, he regained his composure and cast Draco one last, bitter look. Then he turned, and knelt down by Harry again. He was still breathing very shallowly, but the glazed look had begun to fade from his eyes.

After an unknown length of time, Ron looked over his shoulder again, and saw Hermione standing there alone. Ron looked at her for a moment, wondering what he should say, and in the end, decided that there was nothing to say. He merely gestured to the empty spot to his left, and returned his attention back to Harry.

Hermione sat down silently, warming her hands by the fire. She gazed around for a moment, wanting to focus her attention on anything but Ron for the time being. She let her eyes wander out into the forest, seeing the vaguely defined shapes of the trees in the darkness, and the other students lying on their robes, either sleeping, or engaged in hushed conversations.

Most of them had banded together into small groups, and had also cast their own small fires in order to keep warm. Hermione let out a long, deep shaking breath, and watched as it coalesced into a large, white cloud of vapour. She realized that it was going to be a very long, cold night. She shivered involuntarily. * Oh please God, let someone find us. *

She thought with a feeling of sadness deep inside the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t wearing a watch, although no one else was either. (All things Muggle ceased to work once they got within a certain distance of Hogwarts.)

But she guessed that it had been some 4 hours since the train had been stopped, and she, like many others, was beginning to worry about when they would be found. She knew that Hogwarts had most likely informed the Ministry of Magic already, but if so, it would have only taken the Ministry a very short time to locate them, and then wizards would be Apparating everywhere, coming to their aid.

But that wasn’t what frightened her the most. Far off to the right, the train loomed in the darkness, a monster, lurking in the shadows. After Ron and Harry had jumped through the window, she had half expected Death Eaters to pour out of the train, and try to kill them all.

But they hadn’t. The train had remained there, hulking silently in the darkness. It might, or might not have Death Eaters still roaming the corridors inside it, although for what purpose, she could not tell.

After a few moments, Hermione let her attention wander again, and she stared down at the fire, rubbing her hands vigorously. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She jumped, slightly startled.

She hadn’t been expecting Ron to say anything to her. She cast a glance in his direction. He was looking intently into the fire, but Hermione knew from experience that he was merely waiting for her answer, unwilling to make eye contact just yet.

“The sky? Yeah, it is.” She said half-heartedly. (She hardly knew anything about constellations of stars.) “It’s beautiful alright. You’d never get to see them this bright outside of Hogsmeade, or even Hogwarts for that matter.”

She turned towards Ron, her curiosity piqued. “I never knew that you liked to look at the stars Ron.” She said, mildly surprised. Ron looked up from the fire, and met her gaze with one of his own.

She saw that he was tired. There were fine lines etched in the corners of his eyes, and his face looked red and weather beaten from the cold. He smiled weakly, and as Hermione watched, she noticed that the smile did not quite reach his eyes.

“I didn’t use to either until last year. There was no House Cup last year, but a few of us, me, Dean, Seamus, Fred, George and Harry played our own little games from time to time on the pitch.”

Hermione sat up, her curiosity showing on her face. “You never told me about that Ron. You should have. You know I love to watch you guys play.” Ron smiled again, and this time, she could see that he really meant it. His eyes shone, as if with a fond memory.

“Um…… That’s the thing Herm.” He said, and she could see his ears begin to turn red. A sure sign that he was becoming embarrassed. “It was after the Yule Ball, and we figured that you and Krum might need some uh…… quality time together.”

Then Ron snorted laughter, unable to help himself. He attempted to muffle the sound with his right hand, but was unsuccessful. Hermione looked at him, mock annoyance showing on her face.

“Ron!” She yelled, and playfully punched him on the arm. This only succeeded in making him laugh harder. After a few minutes, his laughter died down. “Sorry about that. Whatever happened between you and Big Foot anyways?” He asked, struggling to keep his expression serious.

She frowned at him. Normally Ron wouldn’t have been interested in the least about her personal life. Normally he was even a bit squeamish on the subject. * Maybe he’s grown up.* She thought.

It seemed to fit with his earlier decision not to beat the crap out of Draco, who, in that instance at least, had more than deserved it. She huffed, pretending to look disgruntled, but quickly gave up and laughed herself.

After a while, both of them managed to kill their laughter. Ron looked at Hermione expectantly. “So, what happened?”

“There’s not much to tell actually. We wrote letters back and forth for most of the summer, and in the last few, he wrote more and more about someone “new” he had met.”

She paused for a moment, and then spoke again in a remarkably good imitation of Krum.

“I vas going to tell you sooner, but I haf been…… bizier that I expected.” Ron let out another loud gust of laughter. “Oh, good one Herm. Bam! And you are there!” After the laughter died down, there was another long pause.

Just as the silence was beginning to feel uncomfortable, Ron spoke again. This time he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, and Hermione knew that he had come to the part that was troubling him.

He tried to speak, and then fell silent. He tried again, and also failed the second time. Hermione looked at him with a mixture of sadness and understanding. She knew exactly what he was going through, having experienced it herself on the train just a short while ago.

Hermione laid her hand on Ron’s shoulder before he could try again. “Look Ron. I know what you’re going through. You find this really hard to believe right now, but trust me, you’ll get over it.”

Ron looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “Herm… That’s not what bothers me. I mean… Yeah, it sort of bothers me that it’s Draco.” He said the name with a disgusted look on his face, as if it were a bad taste that he couldn’t quite get out of his mouth.

He paused for a moment, wondering if he should continue. He found one of Hermione’s hands, and placed his own over it.

Hermione stayed silent, waiting for Ron to continue. “It’s just that when you ran out on us. You know you can tell us anything Herm. That’s what best friends are for. I mean, we saw you run out, and you wouldn’t even tell us what was wrong. Then I see you with that slimy git. I don’t know, I guess I just panicked.”

She sighed. “It’s okay Ron. I should have told you guys. From now on, I promise to tell you guys everything. Friends?”

Ron looked down at the ground for a moment, and she was afraid that he wasn’t going to say anything. Then he looked up again, and she saw that everything was still alright between them. “Friends till the end Herm.” And then he took her into his arms, and hugged her tenderly.

She hugged him back, and for a moment, they just sat there by the light of the fire, rocking back and forth, neither one speaking. Finally Hermione let go. She turned away for a moment, and wiped her eyes.

When she looked back again, Ron was kneeling by Harry, and she could see the way he looked at him, the tenderness in the way he brushed his hair off his forehead, the love that was stated plainly in the way he pulled his cloak tighter around Harry’s unconscious form.

She didn’t think that he knew that she was looking, and she felt mildly guilty, like she was witnessing something that she shouldn’t. But still, she found herself unable to look away. She watched intently as Ron rubbed Harry’s hands, in an effort to keep them warm.

After he finished, Hermione watched as he looked at Harry for an unknown length of time, kneeling a few feet away from him, not moving, or saying anything.

And then, as she watched, Ron closed his eyes, and she saw a single, glassy tear streak down Ron’s face, and fall onto Harry’s cheek. She felt emotion well up within herself, threatening to break at any moment. * I hope Harry knows how lucky he is. * She thought, as she watched the scene unfold before her.

She was about to go, when she heard Ron’s voice call out to her. “Where are you going Herm?” She turned back, unsure of what to say. Ron was now seated by the fire again, wiping his eyes.

“I’m going to look for Draco. He should have been back by now.” Ron smiled. “Want to wait for a bit longer? I’m sure he’ll find his own way back. If he doesn’t it’ll only prove what I’ve been saying all along.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows in amusement. “Oh, and what might that be?” “That his head’s not the only part of his body that he thinks with.” Hermione frowned darkly. “Not funny Ron. Draco wouldn’t do that. Not to me.” But she found another part of her brain wondering if he might at that. * I mean, it’s not like he owes you anything. He might be with someone right now, and you don’t even know it.*

Ron didn’t catch the look on her face, and so, continued, oblivious. “Where is that insufferable git anyway?” She looked at him again, her frown growing still darker on her face. “Don’t talk about him that way Ron. He’s not such a bad person once you get to know him.”

Ron smiled devilishly, his former flash of maturity forgotten. “Oh Draco, you’re sooo sexy.” He said, while pretending to swoon and batting his eyelashes seductively. Hermione punched him in the arm again, with more force than she intended to.

Ron let out a cry of pain, and then held his arm, rubbing at the mark that Hermione’s fist had left on it. “Geez Hermione! I was only joking! Take a pill!” Hermione had to muffle her laughter again, finding it almost impossible not to laugh in the face of Ron’s indignity.

“Not funny Herm! That really hurt!” He yelled as he checked the fire. “So where is he anyway?” He asked, a disgruntled expression on his face. “He went to look for some of his fellow Slytherins, to get us a place to sleep tonight.”

Ron looked at the ground sheepishly for a moment, before his gaze returned to Hermione. “I didn’t really mean what I said earlier. There’s plenty of room around the fire. You know you’re always welcome to stay with me.” A short pause, and then: “Besides, I don’t want the guilty conscience that I know I’ll get if I let you go off on your own.”

She looked at him, feeling extremely grateful. “Thanks Ron, but I won’t be alone. Draco’ll be with me.” “I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“If I were you Weasley, I could think of a lot of things that would scare me more than that. My face, for one.” Ron and Hermione jumped, startled. As they turned, they noticed Draco standing in the shadow of a large elm, leaning against it casually.

Ron got up, and yelled indignantly. “Jesus Draco! What were you trying to do?! Give me a heart attack?!” Draco smiled, lazily brushing a few errant hairs off his forehead. “Oh, you flatter me. It didn’t even work like it was supposed to. Maybe next time you’ll actually die.”

Ron clenched his hands into fists. “Don’t tempt me Malfoy. I’ve already let you off once today, don’t think that you’ll get off so easy the second time.” Ron advanced on him in a decidedly threatening manner, but Draco held his ground.

“You don’t scare me Weasley.” He said, the left corner of his mouth curling upward in a sneer. Ron continued to advance, his fists clenching and unclenching. He was now only a few feet from Draco.

Draco took his hand off the Elm tree, and looked at Ron with an expression of dark amusement on his face. Ron was now barely a foot away from him, his breath pluming into the night air. “I’d like to see you say that again Malfoy. Maybe it’ll sound better when you have a fat lip.”

Draco merely smirked. “Three words: Bring it Weasley.”

With this, Ron let out a bellow of rage, leapt into the air, and tackled Draco to the ground. He landed a punch squarely on Draco’s lower jaw, which sent the other boy’s head flying into the base of the Elm tree.

Draco brought his right leg up swiftly, and booted Ron’s legs out from underneath him with great efficiency. Ron fell to the ground, cutting his cheek on a sharp jutting rock.

Ron looked up, his green eyes burning with unrestrained fury. He looked into Draco’s blue-grey ones and found a look that more than matched his in intensity. He quickly pulled himself to his knees, and lunged again.

Draco failed to pull away in time, and took the full brunt of the impact. The pair was sent flying into a patch of grass a few feet away. Ron swung his fist in a sharp arc, and connected with Draco’s ribs. Draco howled in pain, and clutched his side.

Ron brought his fist up again, and then paused as he heard Hermione rushing towards the two of them, calling out frantically. She quickly reached them, and caught Ron’s fist before it descended again. “Ron! Draco! ENOUGH! Both of you!”

Ron turned his gaze back to Draco, unwilling to relent. “Come on Herm! It’s about time that this slimy git learns that he can’t go around insulting whoever he pleases! It’s about time that someone teaches him a lesson.” He said, looking at Draco with murderous intent.

For a moment, there was no sound, except for the grasshoppers in the forest around them, and Draco’s slow, choked sobs. Then as Ron wound up, preparing to pummel Draco anew, he noticed something that he had failed to notice before.

During their brief fight, Draco’s green and silver Slytherin robes had become dislodged, revealing a small amount of skin just above his bellybutton. Skin that was white and creamy, like well-blended peach yogourt, but was also horribly scarred.

Thin red lines ran across Draco’s exposed skin like roadmaps of pain. Ron slowly lowered his fist as understanding dawned on him. The thought that had been buzzing around in his head ever since that morning, the thought that he had dismissed as some offhand blurb from his subconscious, had been Draco’s.

* I’ve been sleepwalking again my dear. Call the medocs, it’s these inhuman monsters that I fear. * And then Ron got a glimpse of what had happened to Draco earlier that very morning. Nothing as vivid and complex as what Hermione had dreamed, but still just as horrible and heartbreaking.

* The baseball bat rising and falling, as if to an insidious beat that only the wielder could hear. Draco on the kitchen floor, tears of agony running down his cheeks, blood, dark and red being coughed up on the kitchen floor. Draco screaming soundlessly, and without end.*

Then it was over, ending in a bright flash of white light. Ron lowered his hands to his sides, feeling dazed and shocked. For a moment, he just sat there dumbly, Draco pinned in-between his legs, biting back his sobs.

Ron began to come back to his senses slowly, trying very hard to believe what he had just seen. He had always thought of Draco as a spoiled child who never had to work for anything in his life. He had never even considered that Draco’s life might not be all that it seemed to be.

As for Draco, his sobs had finally begun to trail off, and he was beginning to wonder why Ron was still lying on top of him, pinning him to the ground, but not laying a hand on him.

A few more moments passed in complete silence, with no one doing or saying anything. Finally, unable to take any more, Draco spoke. “Are you going to get off me now Weasley, or are you enjoying this as much as I am?” He spat, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Ron merely stared down at Draco, gaping like a fish out of water. Draco gave him a disgusted look, and attempted to shove him off. He was unsuccessful, as Ron weighed some 30 pounds more than he did, and was unaffected by his meagre shove.

Draco could feel his face begin to go red with embarrassment. “Are you daft?! I said get-off-of-me!” Each word was punctuated with a shove, as Draco tried to squirm out from underneath Ron.

Ron finally came to his senses, and quickly pulled himself off. “Sorry about that.” He muttered as he wiped chunks of soil and grass off his shirt.

Draco looked at him, unbelieving. “Sorry? You jump me, try to pound me into a bloody pulp, and then you say you’re sorry?! Have you finally lost what little grey matter you had to begin with?!”

He yelled, now regaining his former arrogance at a quick pace. Ron looked at him, a deadpan expression on his face. “I said I was sorry Malfoy. What else do you want?”

He asked, not thinking.

Draco smiled, unwilling to believe that he had just given him the perfect set up line. “Well, for starters, you could get down on your knees and-“ Ron’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “No thanks Malfoy. You can find somewhere else to get your jollies.”

Draco smiled wider, now exposing most of his pearly white teeth in a loopy grin. “Much better Weasley. I think you’ve just learned the art of the comeback.” He said, giving Ron a small nod of his head in acknowledgment.

Hermione stepped in between the two of them. “Alright you two, can you both just please stop it? Besides it’s getting late, not to mention very, very cold.” And she wasn’t exaggerating. While they had argued, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the forest in total darkness.

Even as she spoke, Ron realized that he could barely feel his hands. Icy cold bit into his fingers, numbing them to the bone. He shivered, now aware that he had left his cloak on Harry.

*Our robes aren’t going to cut it.* Hermione thought as she looked at Ron and Draco. She was sure that Harry wouldn’t survive the night either, as he only had Ron’s black cloak as a blanket to ward off the cold night air.

Apparently, Ron was thinking the same thing, as he voiced Hermione’s unspoken concerns. “This isn’t going to work. I don’t even have any gloves with me, and the fires not big enough to keep us all warm, and what are we going to do about Harry? We can’t just leave him like that. He’ll freeze.” He said, as he rubbed his hands together in a futile effort to keep them warm.

“Any bright ideas Herm?” He asked, fear starting to sink in. Hermione merely shook her head, and shrugged. Ron looked at her, the fear in his head beginning to creep into his voice. “What about a Warming Charm?” Hermione shook her head again.

“Only temporary. A Warming Potion would work, but none of the ingredients are around here.” She said, looking hopelessly at the surrounding forest. Beside them, Draco cleared his throat loudly.

Ron looked at him, and saw that he was still smirking, not showing any signs of fear or nervousness at all. “Oh, and I suppose that you’ve got some brilliant idea that nobody’s thought of yet?” He asked, a silent challenge stated in the words.

“Have no fear, Draco’s here.” He said, as he gestured magnificently to two sleeping bags lying on the ground near the Elm tree. Ron opened his mouth, as if to say something, then promptly shut it again.

Draco bent down, gracefully picked up one of the bags, tossed it over his shoulder, and began to make his way towards the fire that Ron had made. Ron looked after him, and finally made his way to the other sleeping bag, and proceeded to drag it towards the fire.

He quickly caught up with Draco, and asked breathlessly, “How come you didn’t tell us this before? It would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

Draco responded without breaking stride. “And miss pissing you off? Not a chance.” He said, as he laid his bag close to the fire.

Ron looked at him sceptically. “Why do this? Wouldn’t it have been easier just to stay with your own kind?” He said scathingly. Draco looked at him, his cold eyes blazing with fury. “Believe me Weasel, I would rather have done that by far. There wasn’t enough room, so I just had to deal with second best.”

“That must’ve nearly killed you eh? Poor Draco, can’t have his way all the time.” Ron shot back, before he could stop himself. “If I were you, I’d watch my mouth Weasel. Especially since we’re going to be sleeping together tonight.”

Ron’s eyebrows shot up, and then lowered again. He scowled darkly as Draco unrolled the sleeping bag, and went about smoothing it out. “Very funny Malfoy. I never knew you liked me that way.” He said, as he went about taking his own out of its bag.

As he did this, he noticed the emblem of the green and silver Slytherin snake was sewn onto both of the bags at their top left-hand corners. “Very nice Draco. Talk about showing your Slytherin pride.”

From his position a few feet away, Draco laughed. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Giving Professor Snape his weekly blowjob doesn’t really count.” Ron looked up, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “That’s pretty crude, even from you Malfoy.” Ron said, his sleeping bag set up beside Harry.

He turned, and looked at the bag, scrutinizing it closely. It was rather large, and Ron guessed that Draco must have borrowed them. Just then, Ron realized that there were only two bags. “Draco, I think you forgot something. We only have two bags.” Ron said, looking at the two bags.

Draco sneered, exposing his perfect white teeth in a malicious grin. “Very good Weasley. Maybe you’ll learn how to add soon. That should be a real accomplishment.” “Fuck you Malfoy. I just said we only have two sleeping bags. Figure it out. Where are Harry and Hermione going to sleep?” He asked, feeling the intense anger that he always seemed to be susceptible to when trading words with Draco.

Draco sighed, and the sneer left his face, as if it were wiped off with an eraser. In its place, a look of weariness and tiredness came. Ron didn’t think he’d ever seen Draco look like this. He usually looked so haughty and arrogant, with a comeback or nasty comment just waiting to fly from his lips. He was always so, well, impenetrable.

Ron doubted that he ever let down his guard with anybody. But now he looked defeated, tired and vulnerable. Ron realized that this was the perfect time for a comeback, but found that he couldn’t do it. For all the times that Draco had called him names, or insulted his family or friends, for every time that he had put him down, and made cheap shots at him, he found that he still couldn’t do it.

It was one thing to be hurt, but another thing entirely when you took advantage of someone else’s hurt. Ron couldn’t bring himself to do that, not even to Draco. He reached out, and put a hand on the other boys shoulder.

Before he could do anything more, Draco instinctively flinched away from his touch, and his moment of weakness ended, to be replaced with his normal haughty sneer. “Don’t get all touchy feely on me now Weasley.” “I was just trying to help!” Ron shot back indignantly.

For a moment, Draco faltered again, and Ron could see the hurt that he was trying so hard to conceal surface in his eyes. Then, before he could see any more, Draco turned his back to Ron, and bent down by the fire, pretending to warm his hands.

Ron stayed where he was, smoothing out his sleeping bag. “So who’d you borrow these off of?” He asked, in an attempt at small talk. “They’re Crabbe and Goyles bags. Stupid lumps don’t really need them anyways.” Ron nodded, not surprised.

“You never did tell me how we’re going to due this. These bags look big enough for two, so I guess your plan is to double up.” There was no response. Ron looked up, and saw Draco sitting cross-legged by the fire, shivering. “It’s too damn cold Weasley.” He said, in a conversational tone as Ron went over to sit beside him.

Ron nodded his head in assent. It was now very cold out, and Ron guessed that it was close to, if not already past midnight. The fire was beginning to wane, slowly dwindling in the cold night air. “What I wouldn’t give for a Warming Potion now.” Draco muttered.

Ron looked up from the fire, and cast his gaze around the woods. There was no sign of Hermione anywhere. All Ron could see were the trees, and the other small, banking fires around them as the other students turned in for the night. “Where’s Hermione?” Ron asked, trying his best not to sound concerned, and failing.

“She went out to look for the ingredients to make a Warming Potion.” Ron looked at Draco, disbelieving. “You sent her out to look for ingredients to make a Warming Potion?! What’s wrong with your head Malfoy?!” Draco looked up from the fire, and attempted a sneer, but failed.

“You are so daft sometimes. I didn’t send her out to look for them. She went because she wanted to. She’s as worried about Potter as you are.” As he said this, Ron sensed the jealousy in the other boys voice.

“Well maybe if you actually had some friends, you’d understand the meaning of the word. She cares about Harry just as much as I do. We look out for each other, always have, always will.”

“How touching. Friends to the end, eh Weasel?” Without thinking, Ron grabbed a stick off the ground, and tossed it out into the woods, where it landed with a dull thwack! On one of the numerous trees.

Ron’s eyes were now blazing with fury again. “Don’t bait me Malfoy! I think you’re just bitter that you don’t have any real friends. You’re just a sad, lonely, bastard who puts everyone else down just to boost his own pathetic ego.”

Draco stood up, and drew his wand. “You talk big weasel, but can you actually back those words up? I can make you wish you were never born.” Ron pulled himself up, and drew his own wand.

The pair began to circle around the fire, wands pointed at each other. They would have looked almost comical, except for the looks of utter hate and contempt that one was throwing the other. “What’re you going to do Draco? I bet you’re just itching to show off your know-how in Dark Magic.”

“Better than you Weasel. What’re you going to do? Charm me to death? By the looks of it, I’d say that’s all your two bit wand is able to do anyways.” Ron raised his wand threateningly, and poked at the air in Draco’s direction.

Draco made mock noises of fright, and pretended to quiver with fear in his shoes. “Oh no! What am I going to do?! Will The Great Weasel of Wankerton show me mercy?!”

Ron’s patience had now reached the breaking level.

“Alright Malfoy, you asked for it…” He said ominously. Just as he raised his wand to cast the spell- “THAT’S ENOUGH!” They both jumped, and saw that Hermione was standing a few feet away from them, covered in green grass and chunks of dirt, undoubtedly picked up during her rummaging in the forest.

She paused for a moment, drawing in breath. “Honestly you two! You’re like spoiled children! I can’t leave you alone for two minutes without coming back to find you at each other’s throats!” She looked from one to the other. Neither Ron nor Draco moved.

“Well?! What are you waiting for?” Still, no movement was made on either side. Hermione gave a loud sigh, then raised her own wand and yelled “Accio Wands!” and both Ron and Draco’s wands flew from their owners and into Hermione’s outstretched hand.

Ron let out an indignant splutter, closely followed by Draco. “You can’t do that! That’s my wand!” They both yelled at the same time. They both took a step toward Hermione, and in the process, collided with one another.

They fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs, yelling, in Hermione’s opinion, very imaginative curses at each other. As she watched, they tried to get to their feet, and tripped each other again.

“Damn you Malfoy! Can’t you tell your legs from your arms yet.?!” “ARGHHH! I’m going to kill you Weasley!” Draco got up on his knees, and landed a punch square on Ron’s nose.

Ron fell to the ground again, and Draco lunged at him, missing as Ron rolled out of the way. Ron pulled himself up, and landed a kick on Draco’s shins. “I SAID ENOUGH!” Hermione yelled, so loudly, that some of the other students looked up for a moment, before returning to whatever they were doing.

The pair stopped. Draco’s hands on Ron’s neck, and Ron’s hands in Draco’s hair, presumably attempting to rip chunks of it out, Draco with a black eye, and Ron with a bleeding nose.

They both pulled themselves to their feet, and dusted themselves off, Hermione all the while eyeing the two of them. Draco moved away from Ron, and sidled up beside Hermione. “Can I have my wand back now?”

“No Draco, you can’t. If either of you die, I’ll have a very guilty conscience.” Draco scowled darkly. “Alright then. Have it your way.” And stalked off towards the fire, his robes trailing behind him. Ron looked at Hermione for a moment, not saying anything. “You really know how to pick your boyfriends, don’t you Herm?”

Hermione ignored this, and merely said. “Pinch your nose Ron. It’ll stop the bleeding.” Ron complied, and tilted his head toward the ground as he pinched his nose. “Damn. I’ll say one thing, that slimy git sure can throw a punch.” “Well maybe if you two would just grow up, I wouldn’t have to treat you like children by taking your wands away.”

“I’m not the one who started it. It’s his fault.” Ron said sullenly, taking his hand off his nose. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. It doesn’t matter who started it. Can’t you just apologize and be done with it?” She asked, feeling more exhausted than ever.

Ron crossed his arms in front of himself, and Hermione was reminded of a child king who pouts whenever he can’t get his way. “I’ll die before I apologize to Malfoy.” He said, in an authorative voice.

Hermione sighed, and decided to make one last shot at convincing him. “Look Ron, if you apologize, I’m sure Draco will do the same. He’s not such a bad person once you get to know him.”

Ron shook his head again, standing his ground. “Sorry Herm, but I’m not apologizing to Malfoy. He’s the one who should be apologizing to me.” Hermione sighed once again, and shook her head.

As she turned towards the fire, she saw Draco heading their way, his face totally devoid of any emotion. He stopped a few feet before Ron, and looked him full in the eyes. “Good news Weasley. I’ve figured out how we’re going to do this.”

He paused, and Hermione saw a small smile creep onto his face, almost a smirk, but not quite. “We’re going to double up. Hermione, you’re with Harry. Weasley, it’s just me and you.” Then without another word, he turned, and made his way back towards the campsite. Ron closed his mouth with a snap, and quickly followed.

*It’s going to be a long night.* Hermione thought as she followed Ron, who was close on Draco’s heels, already yelling something that Hermione couldn’t quite make out. *A very long night indeed.*