The Battle of Hogwarts was over. Voldemort lay dead and Harry Potter was triumphant. Good had finally won out over evil, it seemed. Things weren't looking so good for Draco Malfoy though, or in fact, for any of his family. No one had paid too much undue attention to them yet but it was only a matter of time before the trials of all the death eaters started up and people began being shipped off to Azkaban.

Everyone in the castle had been lost for the past twenty-four hours, caught in a kind of timeless fog. The battle, the blood and the pyrrhic victory of the previous day seemed like a vivid dream and people were hesitant to accept it as truth. For those who had overcome the shock, things were doubly difficult, because once you accepted the truth for what it was, you needed to decide how you felt about it. No one was quite sure whether to be happy that Voldemort was dead or sad that so many other people had been swept away in the deadly currents which had dragged him to the icy realms of death.

Now, people were beginning to drift off, return to their lives. The spell was breaking and the real world began to creep back in. For a while, people would remember what had happened. People would mourn, tell stories; but after a while the constant momentum of life would leave this story behind. Eventually, Ron himself would fade back into anonymity and he would be able to live a normal life outside of the spotlight. Unfortunately, before he could sink away into the shadows, there were a few loose ends to tie up.

He had woken up this morning with a new perspective on life. He meant that more literally than you might think. It would have been quite worrying if not for the current circumstances. As it was, this was probably a best case scenario. That didn't mean that it wasn't disturbing though. He needed to find out why it had happened.

He wandered purposefully through Hogwarts Castle. No one looked at him suspiciously. After all, why would they? Ron Weasley was a hero. It was odd to be viewed that way, after what had happened. He felt tainted, dirty somehow, even though he couldn't quite pin down the reason for it. He hadn't done anything he hadn't believed in fully.

He caught the eye of Narcissa Malfoy and an odd, mournful light illuminated her features. Ron felt his breath catch. She knows. Mothers always seemed to; but perhaps it was more than simple maternal precognition; maybe she knew what was happening. He walked up to her, his steps a little hurried now. As he approached, she looked too conspicuously around her. It drew attention, the two of them talking and that glance, which announced that they were holding a furtive meeting, didn't help anything. Ron made sure that his voice was pitched too low for eavesdroppers to pick up on.

"You did this?" he hissed.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly, "Not me; but I knew. This isn't over yet," she seemed to make a decision and she stepped recklessly towards him, grabbed his hands and squeezed so hard that her knuckles turned white, "Don't give up," she whispered, "Play the game and we'll come for you. You aren't the only one,"

People were looking now, so he pulled his hands jerkily away and grumbled something that sounded vaguely brutish. He was supposed to be a mindless caveman now, wasn't he? He linked his hands behind his back and looked at the floor as he walked away. So he didn't see it coming when Draco Malfoy appeared and punched him in the jaw. He fell over backwards and landed painfully on his elbows, his head ringing with the shock of the impact.

"What have you done!" screamed a red-faced Malfoy. He followed Ron down to the floor and pounded him with his fists, "What have you done? You've taken everything and NO ONE BELIEVES ME!"

Several people rushed over and pulled Malfoy away. The other boy kept struggling, kept screaming, his words becoming wilder and wilder until no one could possibly believe a word that he was saying. Ron rubbed his aching head and let someone walk him to the hospital wing to make sure he wasn't too damaged. He felt dazed and a little bit smug. It had been nice to see Malfoy carted away like that, shrieking like a mad man.

In the hospital wing, a witch he had never seen before checked him over. There was a commotion outside and then Hermione Granger pushed her way into the room, her bushy hair flying out in a banner behind her. She ran up and hugged him tightly. He groaned.

"Watch it,"

She pulled away a bit and smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Fine," he said gruffly.

"Someone told me that Malfoy had just gone crazy and attacked you," her eyes burned with rage, "I hate him," she said with quiet conviction.

Hermione waited while he was looked over, until he was given a clean bill of health. Only a few bruises; he was fine. Someone should tell that to his pounding head. Hermione took his hand and they walked back out into the corridors.

"So…" she said, after several moments of awkward silence. Thankfully, she seemed to think the silence was due to something other than his hatred of her, "We should talk about what happened. You know, during the battle,"

Crap, Ron thought, what the hell is she talking about?

He stalled, rubbed the back of his neck, "Look, Hermione, I don't know if I'm up to that yet,"

She looked immediately sympathetic, "Oh, I'm so sorry. That was insensitive of me, so soon after Fred and Percy and…" she bit her lip, looking guilty, "We don't need to talk about that now,"

He shrugged. Thank god she was going to let him avoid talking about that. He wasn't sure he could fake his 'misery' well enough, "I just feel… distant,"

She stepped closer. He nearly retreated but he managed to hold his place. She ran a hand through his hair. She was close, too close.

"I understand," she whispered, before kissing him.

Her eyes glowed as she stepped back and she smiled a little. He managed a hesitant smile back.

"We can talk about that other kiss later," she said and then walked away.

He leaned against the wall as he watched her go. He thought of what Draco was going through right now. His wild claims that he was actually Ron Weasely were going to convince people that he truly was insane. He would be dragged away, locked up, ridiculed and hated.

Draco's life, he thought, was over. A crazy death eater would probably end up in Azkaban. Ron's life, although it wasn't how he would have organised it, was full of potential. He thought about what that life entailed. It meant being Harry Potter's best friend, belonging to that disgusting clan of gangly and bereft red-headed freaks. It probably meant kissing that mudblood some more. He touched his mouth and thought that Hermione wasn't actually such a bad kisser. For a mudblood.

Draco smiled and his new face – Ron's face – twisted and pulled in odd ways. The smile was not his own; but it could be. His mother had told him that there was a greater plan at work here. Play the game. He walked over to find Hermione again. If his new job was to kiss a girl who even he had to admit was attractive then hey, he was hardly going to complain. Besides, she didn't talk as much when her lips were busy doing other things. Without that self-righteous crap that she spouted, she might actually be good company.

Time for the industrious servant of the Dark Lord to start work again.

Finally, I don't own any of these characters. Thanks for sticking with me long enough to reach the bottom. Please feel free to post any suggestions; I'm happy to take this thing wherever people would like it to go.