The Second Malfoy

Chapter Four:

Secrets

Ron spent his entire first night at Hogwarts awake in his dormitory. It was a struggle for him not to cry out of frustration for the majority of the evening. Somehow he managed not to, simply because he kept telling himself to be a man and just to accept this for what it was. The Sorting Hat told him that he was a Gryffindor, so he must be.

Deep down, though, he knew that the hat was wrong. Hadn't he spent his entire childhood obsessed with Slytherin? Hadn't he named his owl Salazar? Didn't he own several Slytherin t-shirts and sweaters? Why on earth was he in the complete opposite house now? And how was he supposed to make friends now, knowing that he was in a place he didn't belong and being incapable of feeling any sort of happiness over it?

What was probably harder to accept was the fact that Draco appeared not to be speaking with him. It amazed him that only earlier in the evening they had been tricking Lavender Brown into thinking that they would have to battle a creature in order to be sorted. Now Draco wouldn't even look at him. I'm an embarrassment, Ron thought sadly as he stared up at the dark red canopy of his bed in the Gryffindor first year boys' dormitory.

After Draco had told him to leave the Slytherin table, Ron had had nowhere else to go but back to the Gryffindor table. The twins named Fred and George teased him mercilessly about not being accepted where he thought he belonged and most of the Gryffindor first years smiled smugly all the while. Only Neville and Hermione seemed to feel sorry for him. When he moved to the very end of the table where there was nobody seated, Hermione followed (admittedly, he hadn't wanted her to and she didn't talk to him much, but it was nice to know that someone was at least trying to like him). And when they first got up into the boys' dormitory, Ron had had a brief moment of panic over which bed he was to take. The one on the end was close to a corner, where he knew spiders often made their webs. He had always hated spiders, with their long legs and the way they wrapped up their pray, suffocating them, and then sucked the blood out. They were just creepy. He must have gone white in the face or something, because Neville had noticed and asked what was wrong. Ron had explained in the quietest whisper he could muster, and Neville had happily moved his things to the foot of the bed on the end, giving Ron the one beside it. For this he was even more grateful to Neville than he had been to Hermione.

To his right he could now hear Harry snoring away - he had seemed to have fallen asleep rather immediately - while to his left Neville was also asleep, though not as peacefully. For whatever reason, he had a feeling that Neville was either not as happy with his sorting as some of the other new Gryffindors (though certainly happier than Ron) or that he was nervous about classes the next day. He had had a very anxious look as they had all been marched up to the common room, following the very bossy prefect who had been given the task of leading them like a duckling would follow its mother. Maybe he had been afraid of getting lost or something?

When light started to filter into the common room, Ron gave up sleeping as a bad job. Stealing himself for what he was sure would be a horrible day, Ron crept out of bed and dressed himself. He saw with dismay that his red and gold ties had arrived, and he could only just imagine what Madam Malkin had thought when she saw what house he was sorted into. I bet she had a right laugh, he thought miserably.

After combing through his hair a bit, Ron snuck out of the dormitory and down the stairs with his school things in his bag. He had no idea what classes he would be attending today, just that he had better be prepared since he hadn't taken the trouble to memorize the Gryffindor password in his depressed state the previous night. It was slightly difficult to maneuver down the stairs with his heavy bag in tow, but Ron thought it was smart that he err on the side of caution for today.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs and pushed the heavy door that separated the common room from the stairwell, he was shocked to see that he wasn't the only early riser. In one of the squashy chairs by the fire - which Ron ruefully admitted to himself looked quite comfortable - he could see a bushy mass of brown hair just peeking above the back. He automatically recognized who this must be, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he could possibly turn around and slip back upstairs in order to avoid her. However, before any course of action could be taken, Hermione Granger turned around and saw him.

"Oh, good morning!" she greeted with what Ron assumed was a mere sympathetic smile.

"Hello," he said awkwardly back.

"Want to sit?"

He didn't know how to react to the invitation. Ron was still a little embarrassed over everything that had happened between he and Hermione yesterday; the fun train ride, his rude brother, the Sorting Ceremony, and his reaction to being placed in Gryffindor. He would never be embarrassed that he wanted to be in Slytherin, of course, but he was mortified over everything else. Still, she was looking at him expectantly - almost friendly - and his desire to not feel as lonesome as he had felt all night won out over any misgivings.

Plopping down in a chair across from her while simultaneously relishing the comfortable glow the fire cast, Ron offered her a shy sort of smile and looked down at his hands nervously. "Rough night?" Hermione asked astutely while she scribbled in a notebook hastily.

"How could you tell?" It was a sarcastic reply that might have hurt another person's feelings had he been talking to anyone else. In fact, Ron had a feeling if he were to talk to Harry Potter in such a way he would probably be given an icy glare and treated with contempt.

Hermione seemed to take no offense at being addressed in a sarcastic way, however. She simply shrugged and said, "You look terrible."

"Oh, thanks."

"I didn't mean anything by it!" she quickly said, as though afraid that she had actually caused him some sort of pain. Ron smirked at her. For some reason, he found it easy to be around Hermione, despite all the trouble he had gotten into with Draco for being near her.

"I know," he admitted. "I bet I do look terrible. I didn't sleep at all."

"Is it really so bad that you didn't end up in Slytherin?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Well, yeah...it is."

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully, as though deep in contemplation. Then she said in a voice that clearly showed she was thinking over her words very carefully, "I've read a lot about the four houses, you know. Are you sure you're really like a Slytherin?"

"Yes!" Ron insisted. "I've been obsessed with it since I was about four years old! I belong there! I can't understand why no one but me can see that!" He was nearly shouting now, not because he was angry with Hermione, but only because he was angry with the situation. Hermione flinched at his voice and he could tell she was very near to shushing him.

"Well, from what I've read, most of the dark wizards from Great Britain belonged in Slytherin house. It just doesn't seem like you...you're not evil," she tried to reason as she shut the notebook she had been writing in.

"What does that prove?" Ron now yelled out of actual anger with Hermione. "Just because Slytherins are notorious for being dark doesn't mean that they all are! They're greatly misunderstood! If you really have learned all about the four houses, you'll know that Salazar Slytherin wanted to house people who were ambitious and cunning. Those are not exactly dark traits!"

"Shh!" Hermione begged, looking at him nervously. Still, Ron noticed an impressed sort of glimmer in her eye, and he wondered if she was surprised that he knew so much about Slytherin. Well, I should! he thought, I've only been obsessed with it since I was a toddler! Hermione said, "All I'm saying is that so far, every Slytherin I have met has been...well...mean."

"My brother's not mean!" Ron argued, but all the confidence he had felt while defending Slytherin left him. After the way Draco had treated Harry, Hermione, Neville, and himself yesterday, Ron wasn't so sure he was right about him. Actually, he rather felt like he didn't know Draco at all.

Hermione seemed to notice the inner conflict he was having, for she added as gently as possible, "He didn't seem too kind yesterday when he was calling me a...whatever he called me."

For one brief moment, Ron was glad that Hermione hadn't known exactly what Draco had meant. Then he realized with dismay that she was probably expecting him to explain it to her. "He called you a...a Mudblood." Ron gave an involuntary shiver as he said it, feeling like the dirtiest person alive. "It's a nasty word for Muggleborns. Actually, it's rude to more than just the person being called it. It's a word that no one should ever say, really. I've never heard Draco say it before yesterday."

Hermione frowned and looked down at her notebook. "That's what I thought it meant," she mumbled suddenly appearing ashamed with herself. All the anger he harbored for her at her misrepresentation of Slytherin slipped away as he watched her slowly come to terms with the fact that people were going to be prejudiced against her for having Muggle parents. He had to make this better.

"He's not usually like that, you know," he tried. Hermione didn't bother looking up at him. "It's Crabbe and Goyle...the two blokes he was with. They're really anti-Muggle. Really stupid, honestly. Draco tends to change around them."

"Why?" Hermione said, sneaking a tiny peek in his direction.

Ron tried not to grin with satisfaction. It felt weird that he was being made to cheer Hermione up when originally she had sought to make him feel better over being sorted into Gryffindor. "They make him feel...I don't know...powerful, I guess." Ron said, really thinking about Draco's friendship with the other two Slytherins very carefully for the first time ever. He had always wondered why it was that Draco had looked forward to going over to their houses so much when they were children. They had loved to make fun of them behind their backs, but when they were around Crabbe and Goyle, Draco had always assumed the position of alpha male, leading the four of them into as much trouble as he could. Ron had always been skeptical of Draco's silly ideas and had no qualms voicing it. Crabbe and Goyle, however, blindly followed whatever he said. It must have felt really good to be friends with people who left all the choices up to Draco.

"So you're saying he called me a...Mudblood...because he was around his friends?" Hermione asked, looking unsure.

"Well, yeah, I think so. If it were just me with him, he would have probably been a little put off, but he wouldn't have been openly rude. He would have eventually sat down with us and wouldn't have said a word about it." Hermione looked as though she didn't believe a thing he told her. Ron rolled his eyes and pressed on. "I'm telling you...Draco only becomes that prejudiced when he's around them." This, of course, was only partially true. Their parents weren't the biggest fans of Muggles. While their mother did her best not to show her intolerance too much to her children, Lucius had rather encouraged them to come to think of Muggles as inferior. Ron, of course, didn't buy into it near as much as Draco. While sometimes he looked at things that Muggles had created and thought they were silly, he never assumed that they were incapable of living happy lives or weren't worthy of his company, as he was sure Draco felt.

But Hermione didn't need to know all of that. It might help to heal any wound that Draco had left if he just pretended that Draco was just trying to show off for his friends and would have never once thought of being so nasty to her on his own. He could imagine if it would have just been Draco that came to the compartment yesterday that afterward, he would have made fun of Hermione and Neville mercilessly, regardless of who he was around.

Hermione was silent for a moment, looking down at her lap again at the notebook she had been writing in. Ron wondered for a brief moment if she were rereading what she had written earlier or if she was thinking. Then she said, "What about how Crabbe and Goyle make you feel?"

"What?"

"Well, you said that they make Draco feel empowered...how do you feel when they're around? I mean, you could have stayed in our compartment yesterday, but you left when they did. Do they make you feel...weak or something?"

For the first time since he had met her (but certainly not the last), Ron hated that she was so perceptive. He considered not sharing anything at all. It was, after all, his business. Yet Hermione could very well be the only friend he would have at Hogwarts (regardless of what Draco thought, for he now felt determined to spite him as much as possible), and he genuinely felt that keeping secrets from her would be a bad way to start off a friendship. "Well, yeah," he finally responded. "It's really easy to feel weak when you're me."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "You're smart, funny, kind. Why should you feel weak compared to them?"

"Because I'm sick." It came out as a mumble, but he said it loud enough for her to hear and he had to look down as she gasped in surprise.

"What do you mean you're sick? What are you sick with? You're not going to die, are you?" Hermione's voice sounded increasingly worried, and Ron was convinced she was about to cry. He couldn't believe the capacity she had for caring for others. She barely knew Ron - she couldn't even see why he was such a perfect Slytherin! - yet here she was, fretting over his illness almost hysterically. It really was sweet of her.

"I don't know what it is," Ron tried to explain as calmly as he could. It didn't seem to help Hermione's hysteria at all. "It's not fatal or anything, but I do have to take a potion for it once a month at the new moon." He tried to act as though it was no big deal, but Hermione didn't seem to agree with him. To her, it was a huge deal.

"Oh, Ron!" she said. Her eyes filled with tears and she involuntarily clutched the notebook to her chest. "You're so brave!"

Now Ron couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Why? Because I'm sick? That doesn't make me brave, Hermione. I can't take any risks. I get tired if I'm outside for too long, I feel miserable the week leading up to my potion, and it only makes me irritable afterward. Trust me, being ill doesn't make me brave."

"But you've put up with it! You've dealt with more than most people here!"

"Not Harry Potter." He couldn't help but say the other Gryffindor's name bitterly. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad to be in this house if Harry would have just been willing to be nice to him about not making it in Slytherin. Instead, the boy had been downright nasty.

Hermione looked on him sympathetically. "He's not so bad. He's just...it's hard for Harry to understand why you don't like it here. You should have heard him talking about his horrid aunt and uncle on the train and-"

"I don't care," Ron cut her off. "It doesn't matter what you tell me about his family, it'll never change my opinion of him. Harry Potter is nothing but a git."

* * *

Hermione got a taste of just how inflexible Ron was going to be toward Harry at breakfast. The two of them navigated their way down to the Great Hall early and had a good head start in finishing their oatmeal when Harry arrived. "Harry!" Hermione had hailed from their end of the table. "You can sit with us!" Ron had given her the coldest glare he could muster, but she seemed unperturbed by him. Sensing a trap, Harry chose to sit directly across from Ron and Hermione rather than right next to them.

"Beautiful weather we're having," Hermione commented while indicating the enchanted ceiling. Ron glanced up and saw the sun peeking through a single cloud. Harry nodded as he too looked up at the clear sky. Other than that, neither of them behaved as though they had heard Hermione. Ron went back to staring toward the door to the hall and wondering when Draco was going to arrive (and, indeed, if he was still going to be a prat), while Harry set to buttering himself some toast.

"What class do you think we'll have first?" Hermione pressed when it became apparent that the weather was not a good conversation starter between her two friends. "I'm hoping for Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall told me she teaches that subject and I really think she'll make a very good teacher. What do you think, Ron?" Ron answered her with a shrug and shoveled another bite of oatmeal in his mouth. He was not going to be the first one to relent to Hermione's barrage of questions. "Harry? What class do you want to have first?"

Harry, obviously less determined than Ron to keep up the silence, said, "I don't know. I'm not sure what I'll like the most."

"You would know if you would have just opened up a book before coming here," Ron said without thinking. He didn't know where it had come from - the insult just kind of slipped out. In his mind, he imagined what Draco's reaction would have been if he heard it, but then he remembered that Draco now didn't care what Ron said or did.

Harry gave him a cold look and replied, "Tell me, why aren't you at the Slytherin table? Oh, that's right...no one wants you there."

"Okay, let's not get out of hand!" Hermione said as Ron stood up, his fists clenched and his oatmeal slipping off the table and onto the floor. Harry stood too, as though stealing himself for a fight. Hermione looked terrified.

It was Neville who brought them back to their senses. Oblivious to the fight that was about to break out, he dropped down in the seat next to Harry looking utterly miserable. Ron shook his head as though he were a wet dog and Harry's eyes went from blazing with fury to worried. Hermione seized the opportunity while she had the chance. "What's wrong Neville?"

"I hope we don't have to do magic in class today," he said while he shakily reached out for some orange slices. "I just know I'm going to be rubbish."

"I'm sure you're not!" Hermione insisted.

"How can you be so sure?" Neville asked. "Are any of you nervous?"

"No," Ron and Harry said in unison, though both of them knew it wasn't the truth. Ron really was nervous, since he couldn't be sure that his new, weak wand would produce the same results that his mother's always had. Meanwhile, Harry had no idea how to perform any magic just yet, so he had to be feeling as ill at ease as Neville was. Neither of them were about to admit it in front of the other, though, for fear it would make themselves look pathetic.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "I'm kind of nervous, to be honest."

"Why would you be?" Harry asked as though genuinely taken by surprise.

"What if I don't do well? What if I'm so bad that they decide to send me back home? I don't think I could live in the Muggle world again knowing that Hogwarts and magic really do exist!"

"Do you think they send people home for being rubbish like that?" Neville asked. He was turning very pale and looked as though he was about to vomit all over the table. Next to him, Harry was looking just as scared.

"Of course they don't!" Ron insisted. "If they did that, all of the first years would be sent home today. None of us are going to be that great starting out."

Everyone seemed to calm down at this, and though Ron hated Harry he was slightly proud of himself to see him breathe a sigh of relief and take some bacon. Hermione smiled at Ron happily and Ron's negative feelings about being placed into Gryffindor were eased slightly. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all? Sure, Draco wasn't talking to him right now, but perhaps Hermione was right? He would get over it eventually. Meanwhile, Ron felt a friendship starting with Hermione and possibly Neville, which meant that he wouldn't be so lonely on the whole. Harry, of course, was given up by him as a lost cause. He clearly was incapable of understanding why it was so painful for Ron to be placed in this house.

A rush of wings overhead signaled the arrival of the mail. Harry gaped at the owls as though he didn't expect them to suddenly swoop in on breakfast and Neville glanced up nervously, fearful of news from his grandmother. Hermione pulled a disgusted face and said, "Kind of unsanitary, isn't it?"

Ron shrugged and grabbed a blueberry bagel, avoiding looking up into the mass of feathers for as long as possible. If Draco had written to their parents last night, they were bound to know, and Ron was sure to hear from them. They probably hate me now, he thought miserably as he tried his best not to look as nervous as Neville.

"Oh look!" Hermione said happily. A barn owl that had a tag on its leg saying, "Hogwarts School Owl" had landed in front of her with an envelope in its beak. Hermione seemed to recognize this particular owl, but Ron couldn't place when she had found the time to mail her parents news of her sorting. They had been together since six in the morning, and not once had they visited the owlery. Hermione noticed his quizzical look and said in an explanatory way, "I wrote to them when we got back to the common room last night. That prefect Percy walked me down to the owlery and I sent it around nine o'clock or so."

"Oh," Ron said in understanding, casting a furtive look in the direction of the prefect in question. He had flaming red hair like Fred and George - he was undoubtedly their brother - but unlike them, he had a very serious expression on his face that proved just how superior he thought he was to everyone else.

Ron was just about to comment on how snobby Percy looked, when he saw a flash of red enter through the high window out of the corner of his eye. Glancing upward despite all of his attempts to not look into the sea of birds overhead, Ron saw his father's great horned owl Zeus carrying a very ominous red envelope in its beak, a scroll tied to his leg.

"Oh, bloody hell," Ron said in dismay. "They've sent me a Howler!"

"What's a Howler?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison, both of them looking up and trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that Ron saw. He didn't answer them, but buried his face in his hands, desperately hoping the bird wouldn't recognize him. Neville - much to Ron's relief - very grimly explained for him.

"That's absolutely horrid!" Hermione exclaimed, rubbing her hand gently on Ron's back to comfort him. It didn't help.

"I told you they would be mad at me for being a Gryffindor," Ron said into his hands. Hermione didn't reply, but he could hear Harry's snort of derision carry across the table. Looking up at him with intense dislike, Ron said, "Back off, Potter."

Harry appeared affronted, but said nothing. Instead, the four of them watched Lucius' owl's progress down to the Gryffindor table. Eventually he fluttered down on top of Ron's bagel. From across the Great Hall, Ron could see Draco sneering in his direction with anticipation. Clearly he had seen the Howler too, and he was no doubt waiting for Ron's punishment to be issued in front of the entire school. Yet when Ron began to grab the envelope from Zeus, he turned and offered his leg instead. Ron took a peek at both letters and received a shock: The scroll was for him, but the Howler was clearly addressed to Draco.

"What is it, Ron?" Neville asked from across the table, looking nervous. He was eyeing the Howler with distaste. He had obviously had experience with them.

"The Howler...it's for Draco," he said to them all. Even Harry had the courtesy to look surprised and a tad relieved. Looking up at Draco (who was now saying something to Crabbe and looking over at the Gryffindor table expectantly), Ron tried to feel sorry for him, but found it difficult. He took the rolled up scroll from around Zeus' leg and watched him fly over to Draco with the red envelope still clutched in his beak.

As soon as Draco saw him, his face changed from delighted to frightened. Zeus plopped the Howler down into his pancakes and took off as fast as his wings could take him in order to avoid the sound of the Howler going off. Draco stared at it with total disbelief. Even from this distance, Ron could tell it was already beginning to smoke at the edges. Hermione leaned over in her seat so she could see past Harry, and the two boys across the table actually turned around so they could get a look at Draco's reaction.

Draco let it sit too long. It burst into spectacular flames, and Mrs. Malfoy's voice rung out through the entire Great Hall, drowning out all conversation and making everyone twist in their seats as Harry and Neville had done to get a good look at the victim.

"DRACO ABRAXAS MALFOY! HOW DARE YOU WRITE SUCH A LETTER TO YOUR FATHER AND ME! GRYFFINDOR OR NOT, YOUR BROTHER IS STILL YOUR BROTHER, AND IF WE HEAR OF YOU BEING ANYTHING BUT KIND TO HIM, WE'LL DISENROLL YOU FROM HOGWARTS AND TEACH YOU FROM HOME!" By the end of it, Draco was pink in the face with embarrassment. It probably didn't help that the majority of the Slytherin table - Crabbe and Goyle included - was pointing and laughing at him. Gathering up his things, Draco made to leave, but was stopped halfway down the table by Professor Snape, who was handing out schedules. As soon as he had his in his hand, he disappeared.

"Blimey," Neville said, looking over at Ron with wide eyes.

"I know," Ron replied, feeling his ears burning hot with mortification. Now that Draco was gone from the Great Hall, everyone was turning to stare in his direction.

"Well, at least we know they're not mad you made it into Gryffindor," Hermione replied with a wide grin.

"No, we know that they're mad at Draco for not speaking with me," Ron corrected. "They probably are mad that I'm in Gryffindor."

"Well, read your letter, then!" Hermione snapped at him. Ron could see that she was impatient to prove him wrong. Unfurling the scroll, he was a tad surprised to see that it was Lucius who had written to him. He would have thought that, given the fact that it was his mother who had sent the Howler, she would have written to him too. Hermione was looking over his shoulder as he started to read, but he eventually twisted away from her, scooting down the table for some privacy.

Ronaldus,

Draco wrote to us last night to tell us that you had been sorted into Gryffindor. I know that it is not the house you have always dreamed of being a part of, but your mother and I want you to know that we love you no matter what you are. Even if you would have been put into Hufflepuff, we would have supported you completely. You are our son, no matter what you call yourself.

Your mother is going to send Draco a letter explaining just how important you are regardless of house, though I'm sure you've probably already heard all about it. I want you to have a good time and seek Draco out if he doesn't do the same for you. You are twin brothers, which is more important than anything else. Stick by each other, all right?

Have fun and make new friends, too. I hear that you met Harry Potter upon the Hogwarts Express and that he's a Gryffindor as well. Be nice to him - I've read that he has not been raised amongst wizards, so he might be a little slow - and try to be friends. I think he's the exact type you should surround yourself with.

Write to us any time!

Your proud father,
Lucius Malfoy

Ron stared down at the letter in disbelief. They really weren't mad? But what about all that stuff about Gryffindor being a house for Slytherin wannabes? What about all the stories that Lucius had told them when they were children? What about Salazar Slytherin's goal and how they should live by it at all costs? He had never heard anything about Godric Gryffindor's goal. Was it any different? Why was his father so understanding of him and not of Draco? And why on earth would he want Ron to make friends with Harry? He was raised by Muggles! Why would he be the type to surround himself with?

Hundreds of questions whirling through his brain, Ron very absent-mindedly took his schedule from Professor McGonagall's grasp as she passed them around. He only barely realized when Hermione gave a sad sigh at seeing Charms was their first class of the day, and blankly followed behind her, Neville, and Harry as they headed up to their lesson.

* * *

"Well that was awfully nice of him to say," Neville said after Ron allowed him to read the letter from his father at first break. Ron had decided to spend this time with him instead of Hermione, since she had gone up to the library to begin her Charms homework already. Across the blustery courtyard, Ron could see Harry, who was sitting awkwardly with the Weasley twins (who Ron had finally learned the names of from some of the warnings regarding horseplay that Professor Flitwick had given them at the beginning of class). They were talking to him animatedly, but he looked incredibly uncomfortable, which only made Ron smile. If anyone deserved such torture, it was him.

"Yeah, I suppose," Ron said back. "It's weird, though. Dad's always gone on and on about how wonderful it is to be a Slytherin and about how we should try to get in, but the moment I don't he writes and tells me it's no big deal."

"Well, you're his son aren't you? Of course he's not going to be that upset."

"But it's not like my Dad!" Ron insisted. "When we disappoint him, he lets us know. You'd think that this would disappoint him."

Neville shrugged and replied, "I guess parents are weird. I wouldn't know. I live with my Gran."

"Right," Ron said. For a moment he wondered what exactly had happened to Neville to make him live with his grandmother. Why live with her when he could live with his parents? Yet he knew that such a question could be considered rude, so he said nothing and went back to staring at the parchment in his hand.

From somewhere in the castle, they could hear the bell ring, signaling that they had five minutes until class began. "History of Magic next," Ron said as he stood and shouldered his bag, "sixth floor. Better get going, Nev." Neville smiled at the little nickname Ron adopted for him and stood up to follow Ron indoors.

They were just passing through the Entrance Hall, when a familiar voice called to him from near the entrance to the dungeons. "Psst! Ron! Over here!" Ron stopped in his tracks. He could barely see him, but from the darkened corner near the staircase stood his brother. He was alone and looking incredibly anxious. Ron gave Neville an uncertain look, which his new friend returned. Ron was anxious that by going over there, he'd only be ridiculed by Draco. Neville was more nervous about Ron being late to class - Ron could tell because he checked his watch on his left wrist with a very panicky flick of his arm.

"I'll only be a minute," Ron promised him after a moment's contemplation. "Go up to class." Neville nodded, though he still looked nervous for Ron. It was only their first day of school, and already Ron was running the risk of being late to a class. However, he felt that repairing his relationship with his brother over this whole house mess was more important than attending a lecture over a subject he already knew all about due to their mother's subscription of The Historical Wizard (a world renowned magazine that discussed magical history in depth).

Once Neville had mounted the stairs, Ron turned and slowly walked toward the dungeons, where Draco was now positively crouching in order not to be seen.

"Hey," Draco said awkwardly. His voice was unusually high-pitched, and he did his best to avoid looking into Ron's eyes.

"Hello," Ron said back coldly.

Draco was silent for a moment, wallowing in some emotion that Ron couldn't quite place. "I'm sorry," he eventually mumbled. He was now looking down at his feet as though they were the most interesting things in the world.

"Are you saying that because of the Howler, or because you're really sorry?"

"I'm really sorry, Ron!" Draco insisted. He looked Ron full in the face, and Ron couldn't deny that his eyes were full of emotion. "I didn't want to be mean to you. I didn't really want you to leave the table yesterday, but there was a lot of pressure on me!"

"Oh, sure," Ron said in disbelief.

"No, really! You don't know what it's like to be a Slytherin, Ron."

"Oh, just rub it in, why don't you?" Ron snapped at him. He couldn't help it. He was so sick of Draco acting as though he had it so bad or that he had been wronged somehow. It was just like yesterday, when he had been annoyed that Ron had made friends with Harry, Hermione, and Neville. Ron was always in the wrong and Draco was always in the right. "You have it so hard, don't you Draco? Being in the house we both always wanted to be in surrounded by friends that you've had for years! Meanwhile, I have nothing to complain about. I'm only in the rival house to Slytherin, surrounded by strangers, and completely cut off from my brother!"

"I'm sorry!" Draco quickly said pleadingly. "That's not what I meant! Everyone in Slytherin is obsessed with hating Gryffindor! You should have heard the way they were talking when you were sorted! I couldn't let you sit there without them hating me too!"

"You have got to be joking!" Ron yelled. Draco started shushing him, but Ron kept on shouting anyway. Now that he was finally speaking with Draco, it felt good to take out his frustration on him. "I don't care what they said about me or what they could have said about you, we're brothers! There's nothing more important than that!"

"I know!" Draco said with a groan. "I know! You're right! I should have stuck up for you, but I didn't want them to hate me already."

"My entire house hates me, Draco. Think about that for a moment."

"The point is, Ron that I don't want to be at Hogwarts with us hating each other. We're brothers and we're supposed to love each other, no matter what house we're in. I want to be friends again."

"Did we ever stop?" Ron asked, trying hard not to sound resentful. It seemed to him that Draco had been contemplating cutting him off for good. No matter what his twin said, Ron was certain that it was the Howler that had made all the difference today. Draco had been embarrassed after breakfast and had spent the entire of first period stewing in his guilt. That was why he sought him out now - to make amends so that their parents didn't pull him out of Hogwarts.

"No," Draco replied. "But there's something else you have to understand. They've threatened me, Ron. The other Slytherins, that is. They've threatened to hex me if I'm friendly to you. So...I guess...what I'm trying to say is, they can't know that we're on good terms."

Ron looked him over with disbelief. Firstly, Ron hadn't even agreed yet that they were back to the way they used to be. Secondly, was Draco really saying what he thought he was saying? "So...you have to keep me - your own brother - a secret?" Ron asked, squinting at him as though he were trying to make him out from a distance.

"Just for a while!" Draco said. "Until they calm down a bit. And...well, I know it's a lot to ask since you were sitting with them this morning, but can you promise me that you won't be friends with both Granger and Potter? Longbottom is fine...he's a pureblood. But the Slytherins hate Potter for being put into Gryffindor and Granger is...Muggleborn." At least he censored himself this time, Ron thought ruefully.

"Well, it's not too much to ask me to stay away from Potter. He's a foul little git. But Hermione...she's my friend, Draco. I can't not be friends with her now. Besides, who said we were on good terms again? You were a right prat to me, Draco."

"I know! I'm sorry, Ron! Please, just do it for me," Draco begged. "She's not worth your time. Trust me. Just stay away from her and it'll be easier for me to stop keeping you a secret."

Ron couldn't believe this much was being asked of him. He and Draco were twin brothers! They should never have to go through this kind of rubbish! Yet Ron couldn't stand the anger that he had been feeling for the past day. He knew what he had to do, but he hated that he was making such a sacrifice to begin with, especially when it seemed that Draco hadn't made any himself.

"All right," he agreed in resignation.

* * *

Ron had been late for History of Magic, but Professor Binns - a ghost with the most boring voice and methods of teaching ever - didn't notice him sneak in. Hermione was looking at him worriedly and had moved her bag from a seat she had been saving for him, but he had sat instead at the back of the class, hating himself all the while. He avoided her in Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts as well, and by dinnertime, he could tell that she was getting very nervous over his indifference. He knew he had to tell her.

Before dinner, he cornered her in the very same spot that Draco had spoken with him that morning. Hermione frowned at him and tapped her foot impatiently as they both waited for a group of gossiping Hufflepuff girls to pass by. Then he said in a rush, "I'm sorry about today."

"It's all right. Neville told me about your brother this morning," Hermione said. "Do you want to talk about it?" She looked at him skeptically, as though expecting him to decline.

"Actually, yeah I do," Ron said as he ran a hand through his hair nervously. "He told me that he can't openly be friends with me, because all the other Slytherins have threatened to hex him."

"What?" Hermione said, looking outraged. "That's horrible! You're his twin! You can't keep that a secret!"

"I know," Ron said. "But I agreed. I don't want him to get hurt. And...well, he asked me to stop being friends with you, too."

"Why? Because of my parents?" Hermione looked horrorstruck and miserable. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"More or less," he said sadly. Hermione's lip quivered and he quickly put a hand out onto her shoulder to quell her tears. "It's all right Hermione. I'm not going to stop being your friend, okay? It's just...well...Draco can't know that." He winced as he watched his own words wash over her. Ron knew he was being horrible to her. After all, it felt terrible for Draco to do this very same thing to him. He barely knew Hermione, and already he was hiding her away, acting as though he was ashamed of her.

"You want to keep our friendship a secret?" Hermione asked. "But that's what Draco's doing to you!"

"I know," Ron said. "But it's only until Draco stops keeping me a secret. Then he can get to know you without people judging him and I won't have to hide you anymore."

Hermione began pacing, deep in thought. She bit her lip and twisted her hands around nervously. Ron knew he was asking too much of her already. He heard her mutter under her breath, "This is insane!"

"I know," Ron agreed. "And I hate having to do this. It's just...I don't want to lose Draco, and I don't want to lose you. Other than him, you're the best friend I have here!"

It was either what he said or the look in his eyes that persuaded her that this was the right course of action. Or perhaps it was the fact that Hermione was feeling just as lonesome as Ron. She had spent the entire day answering questions dutifully and proving that she was the smartest person in Gryffindor, which had only annoyed people. One by one, everyone in the house had started ignoring her throughout the day, including Harry, who had eaten breakfast with her only that morning. Whatever the reason, Hermione eventually nodded and said, "All right. As long as you promise that you won't be mean to me or anything. Just...avoid me during class and we'll spend time in the common room afterward. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Ron said in relief. He gave Hermione another reassuring pat on the shoulder, then turned to go into the Great Hall, sitting with Neville once he reached the Gryffindor table. It hurt, however, when Hermione sat all by herself at the end of the bench. Harry, he saw with annoyance, was seated with the Weasley twins and one of their older friends and didn't spare a second glance for the girl he had had breakfast with that morning. Because of Draco, Ron realized with despair, Hermione now appeared friendless.