A/N: Would you look at that! Another chapter within two weeks of the previous one! Being quarantined does have its perks, pain and respiratory distress notwithstanding. I wrote this chapter at the expense of a sleepless night, but what do you do. COVID is a bitch.

Speaking of which, if you haven't yet and you can, get vaccinated, please. I've had both jabs, and the side-effects were infinitely less unpleasant than the shit COVID is putting me through. I've been at it for three weeks and no sign of getting better, I don't want to imagine how bad it would be if I'd been unvaxxed.

Anyway! Chapter! Enjoy have fun and whatnot!

'Summers deflects yet another quaffel! Can you believe this woman? Pentridge looks disappointed, he seems to have hoped to finally get his ball into her hoops, oh no, no such luck today! Meanwhile, Ravenclaw's captain Aangstrom catches the quaffel and makes for the Slytherin goalposts.'

Draco absent-mindedly glanced towards the quaffel, but his eyes roamed the pitch for a small golden speck. Old reflexes were hard to suppress, and Slytherin's seeker clearly couldn't fill the gap left by Draco. Oh, the kid—a scrawny teenager by the name of Carpenter—wasn't bad by any means, agile and fast, but he seemed to be always one step behind. Too busy watching his rival's movements to look out for the snitch, Draco mused.

'Aangstrom passes to Ahmed, Ahmed passes to Basilius, Compton sends a bludger his way to knock him off his broom, nasty one, Basilius avoids him, he throws, and—TEN POINTS FOR RAVENCLAW! Benedict Bingston-Basilius—what a name, ladies and gentlemen, what a name—Basilius scores yet another goal for Ravenclaw!'

Despite this, they weren't doing too bad, Draco thought. Slytherin was head-to-head with Ravenclaw at currently 150 points each, and for all that their seeker lacked, his housemates had clearly been putting in extra training since their last match. A minute later, Schwartz scored another goal, and despite the Ravenclaw's catching up soon after, Slytherin's chasers were stronger than ever.

'Can you believe it? Ivyleaf's bludger forces the Ravenclaw keeper to duck and Avery follows it up with a risky throw and that's yet another goal!' the announcer's voice boomed across the stadium. 'The score is now 170 to 160, and those Slytherins don't look like they're going to give Ravenclaw a break any time soon!'

Draco couldn't help a grin. Even watching from afar, the thrill of Quidditch was irresistible. His fingers itched to touch a broom again, but for now, analysing his house team's playing had to be enough. There was Carpenter, trailing Ravenclaw's Owen David as they both were on the lookout for the snitch. Pentridge passed the quaffel to Schwartz—sloppy work, that posh Ravenclaw brat almost got him, Draco thought—and it was only thanks to the Ravenclaws' keeper that Schwartz didn't score the 180 right there and then.

'Oh, what is this? Carpenter seems to have spotted the snitch! He's taking off, and David—good Merlin, what's taking David so long? Folks, it seems Ravenclaw's seeker has no interest in catching any snitches today!'

Furrowing his brows, Draco scanned the pitch. There was Carpenter alright, diving towards one of the goalposts like a troll was on his heels, but Draco couldn't find any trace of the snitch. Of course, from the stands, he couldn't see everything, but it looked almost as thought…

'Oh, that is wicked! Carpenter is trying to lead David on a wild goose chase, but Ravenclaw's best won't be fooled. Truly Hogwarts's brightest, if you ask me.'

A bluff. Something like pride bubbled up in Draco. Not bad, for a beginner seeker. It might not have paid off, but perhaps the kid wasn't quite as hopeless as Draco had thought.

'Well would you look at that! While the seekers have been playing their little game, Ravenclaw has regained control of the quaffel! Emory and Felicitus are sending bludger after bludger at those poor Slytherins while Ahmed and Basilius rush the goals, and it seems like nothing can stop them!'

Draco's head whipped around. The beaters distraction had worn off, and now the Slytherin team was coming after the Ravenclaws, but Draco could already tell they would be too late. Too much headstart, wrong angle. The smaller Ravenclaw, Ahmed, hurled the quaffel at the Slytherin goalposts and time seemed to slow down, until…

'Well cover me in beef and feed me to a hungry troll! Keeper Johnson saves the Slytherins' day with a last-minute dodge! Slytherin get to keep their 10 point lead, and they are already striking back! Coriander Pentridge has got the quaffel, and I'm telling you, that man can fly. He's past Aangstrom, past Bingston-Basilius, narrowly escapes Emory's quaffel, now it's just Summers between him and the goals, he throws, she dives—wrong corner! Summers catches nothing but air, and that's 180 to 160 for Slytherin!'

Draco joined in as the entire Slytherin house broke into cheers. The Ravenclaws made another attempt at Johnson's goals, but Slytherin's beaters kept them in check, and one well-aimed bludger from Horatius Ivyleaf shot the quaffel right out of Aangstrom's hands. Now Schwartz was aiming for Ravenclaw's hoops again, and wham! The announcement of 190 to 160 points was drowned out by chants from the Slytherin fans.

'The Slytherin chasers are massacring the Ravenclaw keeper, but let's not forget both teams still have a seeker! Ravenclaw's Owen David hasn't had much to do so far, but Slytherin's Killian Carpenter has been trailing him all day, so if either of the two sees anything, I'm sure we will be the first to—well take the words out of my mouth, David thinks he's found something!'

The Ravenclaw seeker was racing towards the stands, and his Slytherin rival followed suit. Weaving between the pillars that supported the structure, the two looked pretty evenly matched, as far as Draco could tell. And—yes, what they were chasing was definitely moving fast and glittered golden.

The snitch.

'Slytherin's chasers have taken advantage of their enemies's distraction to snatch the quaffel, but let's be honest, who cares for goals when there is a snitch to catch? Carpenter is gaining on David and Schwartz is dodging bludgers from Ravenclaw, folks I really need a second pair of eyes, Avery has the quaffel, now Pentridge, David is reaching for the snitch, Carpenter right behind him, Pentridge throws—GOAL FOR SLYTHERIN AND SNITCH FOR RAVENCLAW! If that wasn't close, then I don't know what is!'

Draco released a breath he'd been holding and groaned in frustration. So close, yet so far.

'Slytherin's Coriander Pentridge tosses the quaffel through Ravenclaw's goals seconds before Ravenclaw's very own Owen David catches the snitch! That is the 200th point for Slytherin, but with the snitch snatched, Ravenclaw gains 150 points and wins! Three-hundred-and-ten points for Ravenclaw, to a meagre two-hundred for Slytherin! RAVENCLAW WINS!'

Oh come on.

Harry had been unable to sleep all evening. Long after the rest of the dorm had stopped to discuss the Quidditch match and started to snore peacefully, he had remained awake, shifting around in his bed, trying to fend off the thoughts that kept him from sleeping. Counting quaffels to lull him in hadn't worked either, and when sleep finally did claim him, it wasn't for long.

After nightmares just as puzzling as troubling—involving Quidditch, Lord Voldemort, and, for some reason, treacle tart—Harry awoke to a pitch dark dorm. Fumbling for his wand, a silent Tempus informed him that it was just a quarter past midnight, and he bit back a groan. Less than two hours of sleep. Great.

Following a hunch, he decided that a quick walk would be all he needed. Perhaps catching some fresh air, or a stroll around the grounds. His invisibility cloak stuffed in his back pocket, he picked up the Marauder's Map, prepared to scout out the halls for Filch, when someone caught his eye.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

In the dungeons, nowhere near the Slytherin common room. At night.

Next to Edward Tiberius Jugson and Zachary Alemanius Thorley.

That was, at the very least, worth investigating. After checking the map to ensure that Filch was far away from both the dungeons as well as the Gryffindor tower, Harry climbed out of the portrait hole, midnight stroll and fresh air forgotten.

After a few corridors and a close encounter in which he narrowly avoided Mrs Norris, and decided to slip on the invisibility cloak. As he approached the entrance to the dungeons, he slowed down, careful not to make any sound. The room the two Slytherins and Draco–the three Slytherins—were in wasn't far from their common room, labelled as storage, although Harry had never seen anyone use it. Given the state of the castle, it was just as likely to be unused.

Reaching for the map in his pocket, he came up empty. Deciding that he had probably forgotten it by his bed in the dorms, he snuck closer. The door to the room was closed, but not thick enough to properly conceal the voices of those within—clearly the three hadn't left yet. It only took a few sentences for Harry to grasp the situation inside.

'You're drunk, Thorley. Why don't you knock it off and go sleep it off?'

That was Draco's voice.

'I got a better idea. Why don't I make you dance for me an' we'll see how if those feet are good for anythin' other than runnin', blood traitor?'

Audibly intoxicated and vaguely familiar. Presumably Thorley.

'Heh, good one, Zach!'

That would be Jugson, then.

'Oh spare me your display of sycophancy, Edward. Don't you ever grow tired of volunteering your tongue to lick Zach's boots clean?'

Yea, that was the snarky Draco Harry knew, always a witty comeback ready. Unfortunately, his amusement was brief, as the remark was followed by a muttered incantation and a yelp from inside the room. Also from Draco.

'See, 's too bad', that was Thorley again, 'inna few months, they let you outta here, an' you're just gonna walk away, all clean 'n shit.'

'Yeah', echoed Jugson. 'No fair, yaknow?'

'Do you know when my pa is gettin' out, Draco? Do ya?'

'Sod off.'

If Draco was as wary as he sounded, the situation had suddenly become a lot more serious.

'They ain't tellin' us', his captor continued. 'He's gonna be in there the rest of his life, cuz of rats like you, so why don't I give you somethin' to remember that by, you—'

That was enough. Pulling off his cloak, Harry quickly stashed it in his pockets and readied his wand. Whatever the Slytherin had been about to do to Draco was cut short when Harry burst through the door, wand in hand.

'Step away from him! You too! Hands off your wand!'

Pointing his wand at one, then the other, the two slowly backed off. Small space, two moving targets, the odds weren't good, and Harry couldn't spy Draco's wand anywhere.

'Back off, Potter', the bigger of them growled. 'This blood traitor isn't your concern.'

'Yeah', his companion echoed—so that was Ed Jugson— and inched a little to the side, not your concern.'

Harry positioned himself between the pair and Draco, who, tending to a rather nasty-looking cut across his hand, wordlessly moved himself out of harm's way.

'I decide what is my concern, thank you very much', Harry answered. 'What in Merlin's name do you two think you're doing? Street justice?'

There was a dangerous glint in Thorley's eyes as he shifted his weight and moved a little to the right.

'Slytherin business, Potter. Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over. We're just cleaning house.'

Harry's wand pivoted from one Slytherin to the other and back. Keeping the two of them in check was getting increasingly harder, the way they were putting distance between them… of course, he realised. They were distracting him while getting into position to attack. He took a step back and raised his wand.

'Sorry, Potter', Thorley snarled. 'Hero time's over. Go!'

And the two lunged at him.

Harry's first Stupor missed its mark, impacting in an empty shelf behind the slender Jugson and shattering it. He dodged the man's elbow and kicked his shin before barely escaping Thorley's fist. Diving behind a barrel of frog eyes, he fired off two Petrificus Totalus, and the satisfying thud of a body hitting the ground told him he had successfully immobilised at least one of the attackers.

Unfortunately, as he found when he jumped out from behind his meagre cover, he'd only hit Thorley's lackey, and the man himself had wisely taken a few steps back, immediately shooting a hex at Harry that missed him by an inch and detonated a couple of jars near the back of the room. An Expelliarmus from Harry was dodged effortlessly by the Slytherin, and he swung his wand, prepared to retaliate.

'Avada—'

Thud.

Thorley reacted the way most people react to having a small cauldron banged against their head: he groaned, rolled his eyes, and collapsed on the spot.

Draco put the makeshift weapon down, and for the first time, addressed Harry directly.

'I hope you're proud of yourself.'

'What?' Harry stuttered, confused.

'I don't know what you were thinking, but in case you forgot, I asked you to stay out of this.' Draco's voice was ice-cold.

'Oh, yeah', Harry shot back. 'Because you didn't need any help at all.'

He thought he could hear the Slytherin's teeth grind. 'Well, for your information, I had the situation completely under control.'

Harry gasped. 'Really? Well, for your information, this arsehole almost hit me with a killing curse! What do you think he would've done with you?'

Draco shrugged. 'Thorley doesn't think too much when he's sober, let alone when he's drunk. He would have gotten it out of his system and then gone to try and bother one of the girls. I would have managed.'

He kicked the unconscious bully.

'But now, thanks to your selfless intervention, once he wakes up, he's going to be really angry. I suggest you remove yourself before that happens.' He smiled a joyless smile. 'Trust me, you don't want to be here.'

Harry withstood the urge to roll his eyes. 'Well, neither do you. So I suggest you come with me.'

Draco sighed, and Harry saw his emotionless facade crack and thought he detected genuine fear underneath.

'And where would I go? Back to the dorms, where my fellow Slytherins will surely protect me? What do you want me to do? Wander the grounds until morning? Hide in a broom closet? And what then?'

He pinched his nose. 'I know you were trying to be helpful, but in case it hadn't occured to you yet, this is what is commonly referred to as a "no-win scenarion". I fight back, I lose. It's not that hard. I talk to McGonnagall, the others will pay it back tenfold. I am sorry to say this, but you just made it worse.'

Harry felt his stomach flip. 'I—look, I just couldn't let him, okay? Do this—whatever—to you, okay?'

When he answered, Draco's voice sounded a little more hoarse than usual.

'Yes. I know.'

Harry thought their options over. 'Look, just let me walk you back to Slytherin, okay? We can figure this out tomorrow. I can body-bind the other one too, and it won't wear off until morning.'

'You are infuriating, Potter, has anyone ever told you that?'

Harry gave him a lopsided smile. 'Yeah. You, mostly.'

Draco groaned. 'Fine. I suppose if I'm going to be hexed to a bloody pulp tomorrow, I may as well catch some sleep before.'

After immobilising Thorley as well and leaning the two petrified Slytherins against the wall, the pair left the room. A careful peek around the corner and a Revelio charm told Harry that, miraculously, neither Mrs Norris nor her owner were nearby, and Draco and he headed for the Slytherin common room. The dungeons were a maze, and without the map, Harry couldn't get his bearings. Draco, of course, knew the way. They were only a few corridors away, when…

'Get the hell away from him!'

Both of them whipped around. From a corridor to their left, leading back towards the castle, approached a figure, wand drawn and pointed at them. Reaching the junction, the man stepped into the green light.

'Ron?! What in Merlin's name are you doing here?'

The tiredness evident on his best friend's face didn't extend to his hands, and his wand remained perfectly level. In his other hand, he held a crumpled up parchment, which Harry recognised as the Marauder's Map.

'I'm ending this. Step away, Harry.'

Harry slowly put himself in front of Draco and gripped his own wand tighter. 'Put the wand down, Ron. You don't know what you're doing.'

Ron laughed, a bitter laugh devoid of any humour.

'You've got it backwards. You don't know what you're doing anymore. Whatever curse he's got you under, you're not thinking straight. Just step aside and we can get this all sorted out, I promise. Madam Pomfrey can take a look at you and you'll be okay, just as soon as he is out of the way.'

Harry zeroed in on Ron's wand hand and tried to estimate the distance between them. If he was fast enough, it might just work. His muscles tensed…

'Expelliarmus!', Ron yelled, and the wand flew from Harry's hand just as he brought his arm up. 'See? That's what he's doing to you! You'd rather turn against me, me, than him!'

He took a deep breath. 'Last warning, Harry. If I have to, I'll go through you if that's what it takes to rid you of him.'

Before Harry could respond, he was pushed aside, and Draco stepped out from behind him. His voice had a bite to it Harry hadn't heard since their fifth year.

'Big words, Weasley. But we both know you've had plenty time getting to me, don't we?'

What?

'See', Draco half turned to Harry, 'what your weaselly friend isn't telling you is that he's been having a little target practice this year.'

He held up his fist to the light. Harry was familiar with the small smars that covered his knuckles, went up his arms, disappeared under his robe, but he hadn't paid much attention to them so far, presuming them to be the result of Draco's botched healing spells.

'Remember when you chased that little rat Creevey away from me? You never caught the other one, did you?'

If Harry's stomach had been queasy earlier, now it was doing Olympic athletics in his body.

'I'll give you a hint', Draco finished coldly. 'He is currently standing eight feet away from us and has a wand pointed at my face.'

'Shut up!' Ron yelled. 'Keep your split tongue to yourself, Death Eater, or you'll be lucky if you keep it at all!'

'Is that true, Ron?' Harry interrupted him. 'You… you did this?'

'Tell me it's not true', he continued. 'Just tell me. Say it's not true.'

Something like pain briefly flashed across Ron's features, but was quickly replaced by anger again.

'I didn't mean for things to come to this, you know', he replied instead. 'I thought your… your sick little obsession would end sooner or later. And when it didn't, well, I told him to stay away from you.'

'Revelio', Draco commanded. It was a simple charm, primitive enough for wandless magic, and under different circumstances, Harry would have been impressed. But when the scars on Draco's hand shifted to form words, everything else was forgotten.

Stay. Away.

'You… you…', Harry searched for words, 'what the—what is wrong with you? Ron, this isn't—in what world can you justify that?'

'You wouldn't listen! Don't you think I've tried? I tried to talk you out of this. I warned you! But you were obsessed, I couldn't get through to you! Not even when I exposed his schemes, you—'

'YOU WENT TO THE PROPHET?' Harry shouted. 'You brought all of this down on us?!'

'I had no choice!' Ron shouted back. 'Somebody had to do something! It was for your own good, why can't you see that? I never', he swallowed hard, 'I never meant for them to go after you, I only wanted to sour it for him!'

His finger pointed accusingly at Draco.

'I don't know what he wants with you, Harry', he forced out between gritted teeth. 'I don't know how he's done it. But he has you wrapped around his finger, and if nobody else will stop it, I will.'

'Ron', Harry pleaded, 'this isn't it. The war's over. He's not your enemy anymore. This isn't what we fought for.'

Evidently, he had said the wrong thing, as Ron's expression turned even more hostile and he raised his wand again.

'This bastard's friends burnt my house down, Harry. His people tortured 'Mione, killed my brother, killed our friends. It ends here. That's what I fought for.'

He opened his mouth and aimed his wand at Draco again, and Harry's combat reflexes took over. Sight and sound blurred together as he pushed Draco out of the way to launch himself at his assailant.

Ron's eyes went wide with terror as he scrambled to point his wand somewhere else, anywhere, but the spell had already discharged, and Harry felt it hit him squarely in the chest.

Then his vision went black.

A/N: Okay okay okay please do let me know what you thought of that reveal. I've been dropping hints for the past five-or-sum chapters (more like seven, I think), but I'm still worried it might have been too sudden.

Also, oop, cliffhanger. Sorry not sorry xoxo