Metamorous

Chapter 7 - Everything

I haven't kissed a whole hell of a lot of people in my life. Ginny. Cho. And of course Mrs. Weasley's popped one on me a time or two. Hermione sometimes. I really think that's it. I wager Aunt Petunia's never kissed me in her life. Not even when I was just a baby. Well, however many people, whatever kind of kisses... I know Draco beats them all.

He just... I don't know. I've said before that when he kisses me, it doesn't matter who I am. Where I am. It's like my whole world just shrinks down to him and me. Me and him. And that's perfectly fine. Really fine. I don't why but he makes me happy. At least when I'm near him. When he leaves me now, when I'm not around him, I feel very alone. And maybe it's because I am. He's the only one who hasn't totally abandoned me. And why? I don't really know. Because of the plan. But maybe because of something more. Maybe he feels something for me. And maybe it's just hormones. Who knows?

His mouth comes down possessively on mine, and I can't be bothered to puzzle it out any more. I arch up against him, hands twisting in his robe I still find it difficult to associate the icy cold Draco Malfoy, my enemy, with the sensuous man who is wrapped in my arms. I moan. And press him closer to me. Never let go, Draco. Haven't you learned that yet? I have. Never let go...

Suddenly, there's a loud pop.

What the hell?

Arms still twined around Draco, I look towards the other side of the room. Well. This is embarrassing. Totally letting go...

~~~~~~~

Snape. I don't want to know why his head is in my fireplace. Really, I don't. I'm pissed. Harry and I finally admit something to each other... and he shows up. And he's blushing again! Again! What the hell?

I coolly untangle our arms from around each other. "I thought you might have been Father." No use having Harry get embarrassed now, is there?

He merely raises an eyebrow. "Good plan." There's not too much sarcasm there. I don't think.

"Not to be - " Completely, outright, totally... "Rude, but what did you want?" Go away!

"The Muggle attack you warned the Headmaster of - "

My heart clenches. "Yes."

"Two Death Eaters are dead. Wruight and Collins." He pauses, face twisting into a slight sneer.

I want to scream. How many Muggles? How many Ministry Officials? But finally he speaks again.

"And that is all."

Yes! Yes! Light - 2, Dark - 0. Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Gotcha!

Though even while I celebrate, a part of me feels horrible for betraying my father. He's my father. A good one, despite anyone else's opinion. And I don't... does it sound stupid to say I don't want him hurt? He's a Death Eater, and I'm giving them inside information for their coups. Yeah. It is stupid. It's probably the biggest double standard in the world. But that's because I'm for both sides. I'm not black. I'm not white. I'm the vaguest shade of gray there is.

~~~~~~~

With another pop, Snape disappears. Hmm.

"Does he do that a lot?"

"What? Oh, no, thank God." Draco's gone off somewhere. A really far away somewhere. What's he thinking about?

"Knut for your thoughts."

That seems to snap him out of it. He smiles. "Oh, they're worth more than that," he says, voice rough. Blink. Blink Harry, blink!

"Ah..."

He bites my earlobe gently before pushing me back on the couch. Whoa. No complaints here. He laughs softly, and the sound sends ripples down my spine. Before my thoughts can rearrange themselves into a usable order he kisses me again, and I can barely remember I have a brain.

He kisses me slowly, parting my mouth gently, and gradually my mind functions again. Draco Malfoy is kissing me. Wait a tic. Draco Malfoy is kissing me? For a second my mind pulls a 'what the hell?' and my whole body stiffens. What am I doing? Think about what kind of game you're playing, Harry. How hurt are you going to end up in the end? Maybe this should stop before it even starts.

"Harry?" Draco pulls back, lines of confusion marring his forehead. He bites down on his lower lip as he tilts his head to the side. Slightly hurt. Confused. Could he look any better?

Oh bloody hell. Screw it. I do nothing but daydream over this for a month and now that it's happening I almost chicken out? I wonder what's wrong with me sometimes. Besides the obvious.

I place my hands on his shoulders slowly, moving up to slide my tongue over his lips. His mouth opens with a small sigh and his eyes flutter shut. I keep mine open, watching the expression on his face. Yes, damn it, he can look better. When he's been thoroughly kissed he looks a hell of a lot better. He nips at my lower lip and his hands move from my chest downward. That's right about the time I shove him backwards onto the other side of the couch. He looks up at me dazedly. I give him a feral smile.

"What the - "

Before he recovers I move over to him, putting my knees on either side of his hips. Now who's in control? I can't even remember how long I've wanted to do this. A while. Longer than I'd like to admit.

"There. That's better."

He opens his mouth. To protest, I assume, but I've yet to meet someone who can talk when you're shoving your tongue down their throat. Harry again assumes the upper hand! That's what this is about, right? That's what it's always been about between us. Who's better, who's winning, who's in control. That's not going to change. And I'm not letting him set the pace. I'm enjoying grinding him into the couch too much for that. Nothing like a little healthy competition.

"Ah..."

I bite my way down Draco's neck, leaving wet marks as I go. Draco reaches down and under my shirt, carefully tracing his way up each rib. I squirm a little. Then he runs his fingernail across one of my nipples. Oh fuck. I gasp into Draco's mouth and arch up into his hands. And very talented hands they are.

He pulls back and grins. "The oh-so-subtle art of seduction." There goes my upper hand. Oh well. I suppose there's nothing wrong with letting Draco handle me for awhile.

~~~~~~~

Transfiguring a chair into a bed is not as easy as one might think. Really. I mean, they're both types of furniture, so you think it'd be relatively easy, right? Wrong. Harry and I spent a good half-hour trying to figure out how to do it. And then another half-hour to put every locking, blocking, and shielding spell known to man and wizard on the door. And - you dirty-minded people you - the bed was for Harry. Just Harry. I did not in any way trust myself to sleep next to him. I mean, he did have to stay in my room the whole night. And for those of you who thought we would sleep together right then... shame! We're working our way up there. I wouldn't have minded but I didn't want Harry to regret it. To hate me. To hate himself.

Gah. Draco, you are an idiot. What happened to the old Draco who would have jumped at a chance like that? Stupid. I swear my conscience just popped up overnight. Idiot. I am an idiot.

~~~~~~~

"So... did you?"

I sigh. I was really hoping to avoid this conversation. I had hoped sneaking back into the common room this morning would have been the low point of my day. And I couldn't get to sleep last night. Draco was right there. Like, three steps from my bed. And the make-out session... you think I could sleep after that? Took me half an hour just to calm down. For things to go down. Erg. Not going there now. "Did I what, Hermione?"

"Sleep with him."

"I'm abstaining from comment."

Her jaw drops. "You did, didn't you?"

I shrug. I don't want to say I did something I didn't do, but I can't say I didn't for the sake of The Plan. Not that I don't want to sleep with Draco (hormones), and if you wanted to get technical I did sleep with him, as in the same room and at the same time as him...

"Would it bug you if I did?"

That makes her pause. She sits quietly for a minute, tapping her quill up and down. 'Mione's thinking pose.

"I'm not sure," she says honestly. "I've still got that knee-jerk reaction. You know. Eww, Malfoy. You've only been going out, for what, a month and a half? I just don't know. You have known each other for a long time, I suppose. And you're both seventeen, and neither of you are completely irresponsible idiots."

"Thanks," I remark dryly.

"Like I said, I'm just not sure. I don't know. I'll tell you when I figure it out, all right?"

When you figure things out? I've had a month and half to figure them out. I still don't get it.

~~~~~~~

"No."

"Liar."

"Ok, yes then."

"Liar."

"There is no pleasing you, is there?"

"I know you're lying because it wasn't a yes or no question. You're not even listening."

I slam the book closed. "Sorry."

Harry sighs. "What's wrong?"

"Would 'everything' be too general an answer?"

He laughs a little. "Bad day?"

"Would 'the worst' be too specific?"

He leans across the table and kisses me. "What happened?"

"Nothing." Nothing a'tall. I just listened to Blaise's sly, dirty comments all day. Lovely little innuendoes that made me want to strangle him. That look in his eyes was just creepy. God. Maybe I'm jealous, but I don't want him thinking about you. That way. Not any way. He's a creep. The stories they tell aren't stories. That makes them seem not true. Blaise is very, very frightening, Harry. And if he got you alone in a room or in the hallway, God only knows what he would do.

"Don't want to talk about it then?" His voice is even, edging towards cold.

"Just things. Nothing more than I really expected after 'sleeping' with you." Sort of.

"Oh."

"You got that too?"

"From everyone. Including Hermione. Except she didn't really seem to care too much."

"Granger? Really?" That's odd...

"Yeah." He looks at me sideways. What is he thinking right now?

"C'mere." And he does. He knows why.

"Stand up."

I smirk. "How about you sit down?"

He rolls him eyes but he does it. I lean in closely, breathing in the scent of Harry. Harry, who is straddling me, and looking very pleased about it. "This is real." I kiss him hard, brutally, like the time Blaise dared me in the library. I want to leave my mark on him, a real one this time, but I can't.

"I told you," he says smugly, before kissing me. My chest tightens up, and he shifts on top of me with that same self-satisfied smile. "Told you," he singsongs.

"You talk too much," I growl. He laughs, and I only hear the very edge of it since we kiss again.

~~~~~~~

Slam. The door of the classroom flies open. Draco's eyes go comically wide as I grab his robes and pull him in.

"Why hello," I say cheerily. It's a damn good thing so many of these rooms are unused.

"Mordred," he breathes. "Harry, you scared the shit out of me."

"Well, that wasn't the original plan..."

"What was the original plan?" he snaps.

"Oh, something like this." Pulling again on the robes I never let go of, I press my lips to his. "At least, that was where I planned to start." And maybe a little of this as well. Biting my way down his neck, I stop to gently suck on the slope of his shoulder. Well, then maybe not so gently. I wince a little as he pulls my head back. He completely redeems himself, however, when he reaches around to grasp my backside and pull me closer toward him. I push off his robe greedily. Draco, Draco, Draco...

He moans as I flick my tongue inside his ear. "Harry..."

And I smile. Gotcha. Everything else between us, maybe it is bullshit. But I know I will always do this to him. And then I feel his fingers glide their way down my body, and as my breath catches in my throat, I know he will always do this to me.

~~~~~~~

"You all right?"

I bend my fingers tentatively. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? I could get Madame Pomfrey."

"No, I'm fine, really. They're just bruised."

"Well, if you're sure." Harry grins suddenly. "My poor little Drakie almost got taken out by a big bad Bludger!"

I laugh and groan at the same time. "You sounded far too much like Pansy."

"Bitch," he states matter-of-factly. "She'd eat you alive if she could."

"But would you?" I ask, wriggling my eyebrows devilishly.

"Always."

And no one suspects a thing. No one thinks anything is out of the ordinary. The innuendo, that's real enough. The caring? The concern? Your guess is as good as mine. Does Harry care? I don't have a fucking clue. Could be just his hero-complex coming into play. Or common courtesy. Whatever. Just what the fuck ever.

I am idiot. I have said it before and I know I will say it again, but I am an idiot. After all, what's more idiotic than falling in love with someone who doesn't love you back? Mostly I think it's human nature, but I've taken it to a whole new level. I am an idiot. I want to be near him far too much. Far too close, far too fast, far too everything. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

~~~~~~~

"Careful."

There's a warm hand on the back of my neck. I turn to see Draco holding onto a lock of my hair. He glances at the bubbling cauldron.

"You should probably pull it back. Somehow I don't think purple's your color."

"Right." I blush. "Thanks."

~~~~~~~

"I hate you right now."

"Aww, that's so sweet. And this will make me want to help you why?"

I sigh. "Because I can't get the freakin' spell to work."

"It's easy. Watch." He pushes up his sleeve, carefully exaggerating the wand movements. "Swish, swish, slash, flick. Con - tra - cor - pus. Ok?"

"Yeah."

"No, swish two times, left, right, and then slash forward..."

"Like this?"

"Yeah."

"Con - tra - cor - pus."

"Well, now you've got to make it a bit smoother."

"Picky."

"That's why I'm the best."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a reply."

He smirks. "You couldn't think of a good comeback, could you?"

I pout. "No."

"Don't worry. 'The Silence of Draco' shall remain a secret forever."

"Thank you ever so much." I sigh again. "Ok. Here goes. Contracorpus! "

Slam.

"Well, that worked well enough."

"Is he dead?"

"No. The spell just knocked him out."

"Did he see it was us?"

"He was behind the bookcase."

"He'll kill us when he wakes up."

"Not to mention Madame Pince will have our heads when she finds out we were using spells in the library."

"What say we run?"

"Definitely an option."

"Let's go."

Harry and I grab our wands and scurry out of the library, leaving Filch knocked out on the floor.

~~~~~~~

"I'm never asking you for help again."

"Don't worry, I'll never give it to you. You're lethal."

"Why thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"That's why I said thank you. Even a deaf man could have caught the sarcasm."

"Urgh. I hate you right now." I don't. I don't I don't I so don't that it isn't funny anymore.

"Oh, and that really makes me want to kiss you." And he does. I don't think I've ever had a stranger conversation in my life.

~~~~~~~

If we keep this up, we'll be lucky if we pass.

We've met in the library three times this week all ready. To study, mind you. And then one thing leads to another... I mean, you know. He says something, I say something, he smiles a certain way, and then we're not doing any kind of studying at all. They don't teach Snogging 101 here at Hogwarts.

At any rate, there is something very racy about doing anything in a library. Must be the whole books/learning thing. Making out in a chair. Or on one of the tables. Or under the tables. What a time that was. Madame Pince has passed us by before but this time she'd stepped around us by mere inches. Close. So very close. Harry's face resting on my stomach, feeling his breath on my bare skin where my shirt had ridden up. Madame Pince had been putting books back or something. When she circled the table for the second time Harry flicked his tongue into my belly button. I bucked up against him, and he had to press his face into me to stop from laughing. Goddamn tease. Doesn't matter. I got him back for it afterwards. Gods bless whatever made Harry so sensitive. Makes him very, shall we say, responsive?

But that's not always what it's about. The making out and everything. A lot of times, yeah, it is. But I do love him. I know I do now. And I know I can't fight it, and I know it won't go away. And everyday I think that it won't grow any stronger but it does. And here comes my ever-popular refrain (c'mon, say it with me, you know you want to!)... Idiot, idiot, idiot. I am an idiot.

"Did you want to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?" He turns to look at me, his face almost unreadable as I blabber on. "I mean, you were talking about going earlier. If you wanted to go we could go. To keep up the image and all."

~~~~~~~

"Sure. I need to get some things."

When Draco asked if I wanted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, it almost seemed like he meant it. I mean, like a real date, and not the play-acting we've been doing. And did you know I get nervous around him now? Like we haven't spent the last two months kissing each other's brains out. Every time he holds my hand I think I blush. I am an idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

So, yeah, I'll go with him to Hogsmeade. And I'll act like a lovesick fool, especially since I am one. Mental slap. You really are an idiot Harry James Potter. Get a clue.

~~~~~~~

In the carriage on the way down to Hogsmeade Draco and I held hands. Which we don't really need to do since there's no one in there to see us. Habit or not? And we talked. Just about things. And it was nice. Really nice. Weird, but a good weird. An I-could-get-used-to-this weird. And I'm babbling. Erg...

After a while we lapse into a thoughtful silence. I don't know what Draco's thinking about, but me? I'm thinking about Ron. He is - he was... was? Is? Well, he was my best friend. And I can't really blame him for his reaction. I mean, if Draco treated me bad, he treated Ron worse. And there's that whole stupid Malfoy-Weasley family feud. Even if they'd been put in the same House I bet they would have hated each other. Actually, come to think about it, they probably would like each other if they gave it a shot. Am I babbling again? Yeah. I am. Sigh.

"What's wrong?" See? He's concerned. That weird/nice feeling again.

"I just... I miss Ron. I miss having a best friend, you know? I miss being able to talk to someone a few minutes before I sleep, and having someone to sit in the common room and play exploding snap with. I miss hearing his laugh and seeing his smile and listening to him fight with Hermione. I just... miss him." Don't know why I'm confiding this. I don't think I've ever really told him anything halfway private.

"Sounds like you love him." Draco says it so quietly I barely hear him.

"I do. Like a brother. Ron and his family is the only family I've ever had. Besides Hermione and my godfather. But he's... well, Sirius is dead, and Ron's mad, and I can only sneak up and see Hermione so much. All I've got is you. It's pitiful."

"Thanks," he snorts, settling back into the seat. "Glad to know I'm appreciated."

I think... was he hurt? I didn't...

"I didn't mean it like that," I explain quickly. "It's just that everyone leaves me. No friends, no family, no nothing. The Gryffindors have lightened up, but Ron's still really distant. I'm Harry Potter, Boy Doomed to Spend His Life Alone."

He smiles a little. "Well, like you said before. You've still got me." He leans in and kisses me gently. A quick brush of the lips, nothing more. No tongue, no roving hands, nothing to start a make-out session or to get us snogging like mad. Just a kiss. And what does that mean exactly?

And I guess I do have you, Draco. Now. But for how much longer? Until you tire of me, I suppose. And exactly how long is that, Draco? Until Christmas? Before? How long?

~~~~~~~

I hate how sad he looks. Hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it. When he started talking about Ron like that I thought... I thought he loved him. I mean, he does, but you know what I meant. They're just friends. Just friends. If I repeat that enough maybe it won't bug me so much.

Well, I keep his mind off Ron as best I can. And despite Harry's on-again off-again depression, today was fun. The low point, and rather ironic event, was when we ran into Granger and Weasley at Honeydukes. Weasley passed us by with a single glance. A not-too-friendly glance at that. Hermione sent Harry an apologetic look over her shoulder as she followed him. I know she's having a hard time with this, trying to stay loyal to both Harry and Weasley, but I wish she'd just... say hi or something.

~~~~~~~

"Damn it."

I feel Draco's hand slip into mine. "He'll come around. Don't worry." He rolls his eyes. "If there's one thing I've learnt about Weasley it's that he's annoyingly loyal to you. You'll see."

"Thanks. That was... comforting." Coming from Draco it was rather nice, actually.

"Let's go. You've all ready got enough sugar to last you until after Christmas."

I look down at the box of Chocolate Frogs, bags of jellybeans, the small piles of Cauldron Cakes and Droobles Bubble Gum and yet another bag of various candies. I grin hugely.

"Until Christmas? I'll be lucky if this lasts me until next weekend."

Draco pales. "That's inhuman. By all rights you should be as big as a house."

"I get a lot of exercise," I say airily. "Do you have any idea how many calories you burn by kissing?"

"Do tell," he whispers, moving his arm around my waist.

"Uh..." I stare up into his silver eyes. Shit. Too close to be comfortable. Guess I'll settle for being kissed. "What was I saying?"

~~~~~~~

"Hey."

Weasley glances up, then double-takes. "Malfoy?" His face hardens. "I don't have anything to say to you."

I growl. Fine. You wanna play it that way? "Shut up Weasley. I know you don't like me. I don't like you either. But Harry's your friend, and you're supposedly his. He misses you, God knows why. So do us all a favor and ruddy apologize!"

Oops. Didn't mean to be quite that loud. It got just a little too quiet in the library a few seconds ago. Think quite a few other people heard me. Funnily enough, they don't look angry. Rather amused, actually. Granger's even got this 'about time!' sort of expression on her face. Well. Maybe all the Gryffindors aren't bad.

Weasley's still a little shell-shocked. So I just walk away.

~~~~~~~

Out on the Quidditch Pitch. The Ravenclaw-Gryffindor game is in a couple of days and I'm trying to get in a little more practice. I'm really thinking about everything that's going on though. We've got a bit of a problem.

Draco and I have been trying to figure out exactly how that should work at the Slytherin-Gryffindor match later this month. Everything's hypothetical, you know? If I was under the influence of Metamorous, would I want to let Draco win? Would Draco have told me to let him win? Or is my competitive streak so inbred that I would try to win anyway? Then there's the matter of my housemates. Losing might have a really negative effect. (Might. Who am I kidding?) Things are still a bit touchy in Gryffindor. (A bit touchy?! What is this, self-denial day?) Things get really tense when someone from Slytherin pulls another prank or starts a fight. Everyone wants to start bad mouthing the House but feel they can't. Inter-House relationships aren't uncommon but no one in Gryffindor has ever gone out with a Slytherin. A few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws galore, but no Slytherins. Wonder why, eh?

I sigh. How do I get myself into these things? I wonder if fate and life united against me. Perhaps they call each other up each morning and say 'What shall we do to torture Harry today? The poor boy isn't nearly miserable enough!' Gah.

Returning to the original subject, I think as far as the game goes we're just going to play normally. Quidditch isn't really a huge thing. It is to us, but to everyone else it probably seems pretty trivial. One tiny facet of this whole plan. So we're just going to let it fly. Argh. Why am I making so many puns lately?

"Holy shit!"

Whoosh. A Bludger flies past my head, missing it by an inch or so. That was lucky. I don't want to end my life with my brains splattered all over a ball, thank you very much. Only now do I notice another player on the pitch--just shows how out of it I am. The red hair is pretty unmistakable. Ron. Ron has playing as Beater lately. Shelby, one of our regular Beaters, was kicked off the team. Our reserve player is a crappy Beater but a decent Keeper, so Ron and Peter (the reserve - you following this?) have switched places.

"Sorry," Ron shouts. Hmm. Doesn't seem sorry to me.

"No problem."

Ron bats around with the Bludger for a while. I pointedly ignore him, practicing dives and hanging on my broom while shifting my balance. Right side turns are kind of dicey, but the left is fine. Unlike Draco, going upside down is pretty much a no for me unless I'm diving. And my broom has been leaning towards the left lately. Oh well. I'm never getting rid of my Firebolt. Sirius gave it to me.

The Bludger spins by my head again. Jesus. What the hell is Ron doing?

As the Bludger curls back towards him he smacks it around some, watching me and not caring if I know it. Then without any warning, he hits the Bludger right to me.

Every been hit with a Bludger full-force? No? Well, let me tell you, it hurts. I try frantically to swat the ball away from me. It's gonna to hurt my hand but it would hurt my head a lot more. Doesn't matter. No dice. The Bludger rolls off the edge of my hand and into my face. Fuck. That's it. I swoop down furiously to the Quidditch box to grab the other bat. If that's the way Ron wants to play it, fine.

We begin the slam the ball back and forth. Ron is angry about something, obviously. I don't know if it's me or if I'm being used as the resident punching bag. After only a few minutes of this we're both panting and sweating. A Bludger is spelled to go after every player on the field, but since Ron and I are the only ones here we've got our hands pretty full.

I send the ball hurtling towards Ron and with a angry growl he smacks it back towards me. "What's the matter? Can't you even handle a Bludger? You must be spending too much time around Draco. You don't have time for anything else anymore!"

"That's... not... true Ron!" Thwack.

"It is - " Thunk. " - so true!"

"Whatever. Since when do you talk to me anyway?" Thunk. The ball hurtles upwards into the sky. There. That should keep it occupied for a few seconds. Ron settles back on his broom to glare at me.

"Since when do you talk to me?" he asks spitefully.

"I gave up trying when every time I tried you looked right past me!" Shit. The Bludger's coming back. "Ron, watch out!"

He turns and swats at the Bludger awkwardly. It pops back towards him and this time he sends it hurtling towards me.

I sigh as I hit the Bludger towards the ground. "What is your problem anyway, Ron? Is it because it's Draco? Don't you think you should be over that by now?"

"It's not because it's Malfoy!" he shouts back. "Though he is a git, and a ruddy bastard, and a general pain in my ass, that's not the point! The point is - " Smack. " - the point is that you don't need me as much as I need you."

"What?" What the fuck?

"You heard me!" he bursts out. The Bludger hurtles towards him and instead of hitting it he drops the bat and grabs the ball as it comes towards him. It slams into his chest. I wince. Fuck. Must have hurt. Ron gasps in a breath but recovers fairly quickly. He looks at me for a second before heading towards the ground. Running away. Nuh uh. Don't think so. You can't just run away after something like that.

"What did you mean by that? Me not needing you as much as you needed me? What was that all about?"

Ron stumbles as he gets off his broom, hugging the Bludger tighter as it tries to escape. "We haven't talked in two months Harry! Two months! And you... your life goes on! You go to classes, you snog Malfoy, you eat, you sleep, you're perfectly happy. And I've been perfectly miserable!" He throws the Bludger into the Quidditch box. "I wanted to talk you, but every time I tried things went wrong. I said something I didn't mean to, or he showed up, or you had to be somewhere else. I haven't even seen you in the common room. Don't... don't you even miss me the littlest bit? Or Hermione at least?" He studiously keeps his eyes on the Bludger, working diligently on clasping the leather straps that keep it in place.

So that's what this is about. All this time I thought this was about Draco. And I guess it sort of is, because Ron thinks I've found a replacement. But Draco isn't a replacement. He never could be. Ron is Ron, and no one else is.

I walk a few steps closer to him. "Of course I miss you. You're my best friend, Ron! Did you somehow forget that?" He shrugs his shoulders but I think some of this might get through. "And I don't miss Hermione because I've been sneaking up to her room every other day. I thought you knew." He turns to look at me this time, and from his shell-shocked expression it's apparent he didn't. "I didn't want things to change Ron. They just did. Draco doesn't take up that much of my time you know. I just... I can't stand how everything goes quieter whenever I step into the common room. How everyone is so careful about what they say. Hell, I haven't even heard anyone insult Snape lately because they're afraid I'll get mad!" You think this has been a cakewalk? News flash: It hasn't.

Ron glances down at his shoes. "It just seemed like you didn't miss anyone. Or care for anyone anymore. Like you never needed us in the first place. You were - you are fine. You always have been, always will. You're the same no matter what. It doesn't seem like you need anyone."

I snort. Yeah. That's me all right. Harry Potter. I'm like the rock of ages. A pillar, mhmm. Let's face it. I can't do much of anything without anyone.

"Ron, you have been there for me whenever I need you. You faced Voldemort with me! How can you think that you mean that little to me? I have missed you. I miss everyone," I say softly. Pause. "Except maybe Colin."

That gets me a chuckle. "Surprised he still isn't stalking you."

"Eh, he's been toning it down a bit each year."

And there. Right there. Everything was the same as it used to be. Like this universal sign that everything was going to be okay. Ron's sorry, I know, even though he won't admit it.

"Sorry."

Whoa. Must be sorrier than I thought.

"I'm sorry too."

He shrugs uncomfortably. "I just got so mad, I guess. I'm not a redhead for nothing." He finishes packing up the Quidditch box. "And Malfoy... he's different now. I mean, not totally, of course. And I still don't like him. But I guess it's all right to be with him."

"Thank you for your approval, Father Ron."

"Git. That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"Why do you like him anyway?" Ron's face is scrunched up in bemusement. "He's not horrible like he used to be, but..." He trails off. "I don't get it, I guess."

"I don't know really why I like him. Maybe because he listens. Not that you and Hermione don't, but he usually knows about things. You know? Because he's seen them too. And how he doesn't flinch when I say Voldemort. How he catches my jokes that no one else does. How he knows when I want to talk and when I don't. And we do everything together. Doesn't hurt that he's gorgeous, but that's not it. I just... don't know. He's Draco. And I love him." The funny part? Not a word of that was a lie.

Ron nods seriously. "All right. I guess I understand that. Just... don't get any dumb ideas in your head about us becoming friends and hanging out. I still don't like him. But I will tolerate him. For you."

So is that it then? That's all? Almost anticlimactic. Not that I wanted a big deal of it! Good one Harry, way to tempt fate.

Ron picks up one end of the Quidditch box and heads towards the broom shed. "I was heading up to Hermione's room. Did you want to come with me?"

Damn it. "Can't. I'm all ready late for studying with Draco." Pretty damn late, actually.

"Studying, huh?" Skeptical would be an understatement. I am planning to study! At least a little...

I roll my eyes. "Yes, study. I've no intention of giving Snape an excuse to fail me. But how about after class tomorrow? I was going to see Hermione then. Maybe we could all hang out."

Ron turns and grins. "Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good."

And life goes on.

~~~~~~~

Harry's glowing. And not in a pregnant way. Or in a streaming-light sort of way either. You know, just to clear that up. But he does look so happy it should be sickening. Well, it is vaguely. But it doesn't bother me as much as it did.

"What are you so happy about?" I keep my voice as neutral as possible. Did...?

"Ron talked to me today."

"Capital. He's finally learned how to use the English language. Good for him."

That earns me a smack in the shoulder, which earns him a pouty face, but inwardly I'm smiling. About bloody time.

A few feet away the shadow of old Draco is staring at me with disgust. You little nancy boy! You're like the good fairy... you... you fairy! Do something evil! Low-down! Nasty! Stop being such a lovesick sop! Why don't you -

I'll just ignore him as best I can.

"And exactly why is there a bruise on your face?"

"Bludger."

I raise an eyebrow. "Well, don't be so daft. Do you want another scar? Plysis." The purplish mark on Harry's face begins to fade. He gingerly reaches up to touch it.

"Thanks." He smiles shyly. "You'll have to teach me that sometime."

"Why not now?"

His grin becomes a lot wider. "I can think of better things to do."

Like I can argue with that.