***
Ron felt eyes on the back of his head.
He sat there stiffly and ignored it.
The practice was going wonderfully. Harry had already caught the snitch twice, and Wood had him sitting out for a few minutes to give the rest of the team time to practice. He was floating now on his broom close to the goal, watching Oliver twist and spin and block every shot his team threw at him.
And someone was staring at Ron. He knew it. He felt it.
And he was almost sure he knew who it was.
He wasn't sure when it happened, but Draco Malfoy had suddenly started popping up everywhere. Suddenly he was always watching Harry and Hermione and him. He was snapping at his own friends instead of snapping at Harry and him.
But it was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, the smart-mouth who had insulted Ron the very first time they had ever met.
Because Ron was a Weasley.
And Draco was a Malfoy.
Yet, there he was. All the time, there he was. It was starting to get a little spooky, but Ron didn't say anything. He didn't want any more trouble than there already was between Harry and Malfoy.
He ignored the eyes watching him, and he watched Harry.
But Malfoy wasn't one to be ignored. "Weasley."
He turned: Malfoy was right behind him. "Malfoy."
Malfoy sat down in the stands a level above Ron, and a seat over. He nodded out at the field. "You must really love this game."
Ron looked back out at the field. More than a little wistfulness came over him. "Of course. Everyone at the school does."
"Still. Not everyone is out here watching the practices. Do you want to play?"
Ron frowned to himself. He kept silent, watching as Harry finally got called back into the game, and the snitch was set loose again.
Harry was off like a shot.
Malfoy sighed behind him. "I'm only trying to talk, Weasley. It can't do any harm, can it?"
Ron looked back at him.
Malfoy's light eyes were watching the players. That same sad look was back.
If Ron didn't know better, he'd swear that Malfoy looked lonely.
And no, talking couldn't do any harm. Not out here in public where Malfoy couldn't kill him and make it look like an accident, anyway.
So he answered Malfoy's earlier question honestly. "I've always wanted to play. My brothers…"
"I know. Head boy, wasn't one? And a team captain? And a prefect of your own house."
"Among other things." Ron shrugged and watched Harry swoop around the field. "I still remember being a child, when they would come home at holidays and talk for hours about games they'd played. Mum and dad were always proud of them." He shut his mouth suddenly, glancing back at Malfoy.
Never show a snake your weak spots, he berated himself as Malfoy's mouth tilted up in a smile.
But Malfoy's next comment surprised him. "It must have been wonderful growing up with so many other children around you."
Ron blinked at him. He turned in his seat, studying Malfoy. "What are you doing?"
Malfoy turned to him finally. "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. Why are you here?"
Malfoy looked away again. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes lowered. "You don't know?"
Ron frowned at him, trying to see through the act to any of the malice that he knew was in Malfoy's heart.
"You…" Malfoy sighed. "You and Potter, and that Granger…I mean, Hermione. You're an odd sort of group, aren't you?"
"Not so very, I guess." Ron looked back out at Harry. "He's Harry Potter, you know, and it makes him different than other kids. And Hermione…well, she doesn't do well with students here. She takes some getting used to. And me." Ron turned his eyes back to Malfoy. "I'm a Weasley, and we all know it doesn't pay to make friends with my sort. So I suppose we're all outcasts together."
Malfoy's lips pressed together. "Look, Weasley. Ron. I'm…" He shook his head. "Well, there isn't really anything I can say. I suppose it works for you, to be outcasts together like that. You seem to have it all right."
Ron nodded. "When you give us a chance to, yeah."
"I'm…" Malfoy sighed heavily all of the sudden. "Oh, forget it. What difference does it make? I suppose we just weren't meant to get along, were we?" He stood up and abruptly walked off.
Ron frowned after him. He turned back to the field slowly, finding Harry easily among his bigger teammates.
A moment later he was off to the stairs, pounding down them at the same time he was asking himself if he had completely lost his mind. "Malfoy?"
Malfoy was only a little ahead. He stopped down by the bottom steps and turned back. "What?"
Ron stopped a few steps above him. What indeed. Good question. "You…you're playing some sort of joke, aren't you?"
That wounded look that he'd gotten the day Ron asked if he was going to kill him reappeared, but Malfoy stifled it. "Think whatever you want, Weasley."
Ron spoke before he could leave. "What do you mean, we weren't meant to get along? That's an odd thing to say."
Draco leaned against the handrail and studied Ron. "Weasley. Malfoy. It's in our blood to be enemies, isn't it?"
"Is it?" Ron asked, surprised.
"You don't think so? From our fathers before us? I was raised to hate you."
"Honestly?" Ron was shocked. He had heard from his father about the Malfoys, and how horrible Lucius was towards Muggle-lovers like Arthur Weasley. But raised to hate? Not in his household. Ron knew of Lucius as wicked, but wicked enough to teach his son to despise someone because of their family name?
That was horrible.
Draco appeared just as shocked. "You mean…you didn't hate me because I was a Malfoy?"
"Of course not!" But even as he said it Ron wondered how much it was true. "I…" It was in his nature to be honest, so even as he wondered he spoke out loud. "I thought certain things about you, though. Malfoys do have a reputation as…well…"
"Yes, I know." Draco smiled at that bitterly. "Don't suppose I ever had a choice in the matter. The moment I was born a Malfoy the whole wizarding world knew exactly what kind of a boy I was."
Ron stared at him. "That's…that's an awful thing to say."
"Awful or not, it's true. Look at your friend Potter. From the moment he got that scar he's had no choice but to grow to become a wizard, and everyone expects so much of him. You, you're expected to do nothing but follow in the footsteps of your family. And me, I'm expected to become my father. It doesn't seem fair, does it?"
Ron shook his head.
Malfoy smiled a little more sincerely. "Wonder what it would do to the wizard world if we decided not to do as they expect."
"Ron?"
Ron turned, surprised by the call. "Harry?"
Harry answered from beyond the stairs, where he was probably hovering by the stands. "Are you leaving? Practice is nearly over."
Ron glanced back at Malfoy.
Draco just nodded to him to go. "Get back to your friend, Weasley."
Ron turned. He was disturbed by the conversation enough to start back up the stairs without a word. "I'm coming, Harry."
"But I wonder…"
Malfoy's voice stopped him. He glanced back.
Draco regarded him rather blatantly. "I wonder if maybe you could be more than they think you are, Ron."
Surprised at Malfoy calling him by his first name, Ron just waited in silence.
"You think you're in the shadow of all your brothers, and here you're hiding in the shadow of your friends." Malfoy nodded past him to where Harry was no doubt still waiting. "I wonder what you could be if you defied them all, Ron." Draco's eyes went down, thoughtful. "I wonder what I could be," he added softly, almost too softly to hear.
"Ron? Hurry up!"
"I…" Ron looked up towards Harry, then back at Malfoy.
Malfoy smiled up at him at that. "Just go. Can't keep Potter waiting."
So Ron went.
***
It was ridiculous to even be thinking about it.
Draco Malfoy was an evil little git, simple as that. He was Snape's prized student, which said more than enough. He was full of hatred and anger.
He hated Ron and his family. He hated Harry and Hermione.
So why was Ron even bothering to think about that last odd meeting?
Malfoy had seemed sincere enough. Sad, too. Ron hadn't caught sight of any slip that might mean he was just pretending.
But he had to be pretending. Honestly, it was Malfoy. It was the sneering boy who tried to kill Harry during Quidditch. Who called Hermione a Mudblood. Who despised Ron's entire family.
Because his father had raised him to.
Was that true? Ron wondered. From what his father said about Lucius Malfoy, he was cruel enough to do it.
So…what did that mean? If Draco was raised to hate him, maybe he hadn't honestly wanted to. Maybe he just thought he had to.
No, that was ridiculous.
Or was it?
Ron loved his mother and father. He might occasionally resent the fact that they were so poor, or that his father didn't even attempt to move into a better job for more money, but he loved them. He took what they said seriously, more often than not.
His father had always loved Muggles. Everything about them. And so Ron grew up thinking that Muggles were no better or worse than wizards and witches.
What if his father had been the other way? Would Ron hate Muggles if that was what he grew up learning? Would he hate Hermione and call her a mudblood too?
He wanted to think he wouldn't. But he wasn't sure.
So…what if that was why Draco had been so quiet lately? Draco was finally tired of parroting out ideas that his father taught. He wanted to think for himself.
He wanted to be more, wasn't that what he said? More than what the wizarding world expected him to be.
And he wondered if Ron could be more, too.
More…more what? More than some Weasley with dirt on his face and tattered clothes?
Well, all that could be done with a little money. It wasn't like Ron could change it by just behaving different.
Hiding in the shadow of his friends…
Ron frowned at the unfocused words on the page in front of him. Lost in the shadow of his brothers at home, and now hiding under the shadows of his friends.
What a strange thing for Draco to say.
But before he could think more about it, he became aware of the fact that someone was talking to him.
He focused on Harry as he waved a hand in front of Ron's face with a smile. "You have that look on your face that you get when Sprout's been lecturing for too long. Are you completely ignoring me?"
Ron shook his head to clear it. He grinned self-consciously. "Sorry. Just thinking."
"You?" Harry laughed.
"Shut up." Ron punched Harry's arm.
Harry raised a hand to ward him off. "Sorry. No, tell me. What are you thinking about so hard?"
"Malfoy," Ron answered honestly.
"Malfoy?" Harry stared at him. "Are you mad? What are you thinking of him for?"
"Well. It's odd, isn't it? That we hate him and he hates us. There's no real reason, is there?"
Harry's brow furrowed. "Ron, he's a bully. He wants to be in control of everybody. That's why I don't like him."
"But you're different, Harry. You grew up in the Muggle world. You weren't told the kind of things we were. The rest of us, we grew up knowing exactly what Malfoys are. Just as everyone knows who you are, and everyone knows me and my brothers and sister just by looking at us. Word goes around fast, and sometimes it isn't true but they go on talking anyway."
Harry looked at him carefully for a moment. "Ron, why not say what's on your mind?"
"I'm not really sure, honestly." Ron looked away from Harry's round, curious eyes. "I just wonder, that's all."
"Well, you can stop wondering. Malfoy or not, Draco is cruel and selfish, and definitely no friend of ours."
***
When Percy made prefect, his parents bought him an owl and new robes and a few other little things.
At Christmas break last year when Ron could have gone home, his parents instead used the last of their savings to go to Romania and visit Charlie.
Ron sat there in his old robes, with a near-dead rat sleeping next to him and a broken wand that was really useless.
Charlie had been the greatest seeker in Hogwarts. That's what people said, anyway. He became captain of the team. Everyone had loved Charlie so much that even though he had left the school ten years ago, teachers still brought him up when they talked to Ron.
Bill was different. He wasn't on the Quidditch team. But he was, if his stories could be trusted, the most popular boy in his year. He said even Slytherins liked him. He left school with tons of friends. He was Head Boy his seventh year.
Ron grew up idolizing Bill and Charlie, more from stories and occasional visits than from actually knowing them.
Now Percy was prefect, and he would probably make Head Boy himself next year. His grades were near perfect, and he'd gotten so many O.W.L.s that his parents couldn't stop talking about it. Then he got the robes, and the owl.
Fred and George were different. They didn't give a single thought to their grades if they could help it. They spent some of their time on Quidditch, and most of it on making everyone laugh.
Fred and George were the most popular boys in Gryffindor. Everyone loved them. They were an almost unbeatable team of blockers on the field, and people just loved to see them coming down the halls.
They didn't care about any of it, really. And they were so close that Ron now and then felt a little jealous. They always had each other, at home and at school and on the field, and they were really happy.
Now Ginny was at the school too. She was too shy so far to be very popular, but she was doing well and seemed thrilled just to be there.
Ron was…well, he was just him, wasn't he? He did alright in school, but not great. He wasn't particularly clever or anything, and really he wasn't popular. Everyone who knew him only knew him because of Harry.
At home his mum and dad spent most of their time talking about what Bill and Charlie were up to, or congratulating Percy on his latest accomplishment, or scolding Fred and George over their latest pranks, or making sure Ginny was okay. Ron did tend to get lost in the fold.
Lost under their shadows.
Ron could remember easily enough when he and his brothers had returned home from rescuing Harry from his horrible Muggle family's house, and his mother yelled at Fred and George for taking the car then cooed over Harry the way she did. Hadn't really said two words to Ron, had she?
Still. What did any of that matter? Ron knew without a doubt that his mum and dad loved him. He never thought otherwise.
No, he was just feeling sorry or himself. That's all.
And it was surprisingly easy to go from feeling sorry for himself to feeling sorry for Draco Malfoy.
He wondered what it had been like, growing up in his house. Draco didn't have any brothers or sisters. He had a horrible father, and probably a horrible mum. He was brought up being taught that everyone was inferior to him.
Ron had seen him and his father at the book shop before school started. The way his father brushed him aside, and only spoke to him to shut him up.
Did Draco really have any choice but to end up the way he was?
He thought about it a lot. He didn't say anything, because Harry already thought that he was mad after that one conversation, and Hermione was seeing red towards Malfoy lately, ever since he started calling her names.
He almost wished he could talk to them, though. He honestly wasn't sure whether he was smart enough to figure it all out on his own.
***
He ended up searching Draco out. It was harder than he thought -- suddenly Draco seemed to be staying away from his usual spots, and he had apparently all but deserted Crabbe and Goyle, to their obvious distress.
He pondered about it, but he had no idea what was going on in this strange new Draco's head. So he simply waited outside of class for him one day, told Harry to go on without him, and hoped Draco didn't ignore him completely.
Draco saw him standing there waiting, and a smile crossed his face. He almost seemed pleased. "Weasley."
"Malfoy." Ron started walking beside him, looking straight ahead. "I've been thinking."
"Have you? How splendid. Granger must be thrilled."
Ron almost got defensive. He looked over and saw the smile, though, and relaxed. It was a joke. Just a joke, like one Harry would make.
So he responded in kind, reaching over and nudging Draco's arm. "Shut up." But he as smiling.
Draco glanced back at him, and seemed pleasantly surprised at Ron's response. "You're not so quick to get mad these days."
"Well. I…" Ron shrugged. "Neither are you."
"Shhh. Don't tell anyone. You'll ruin my good name."
Ron laughed.
Draco looked over again, and laughed with him a moment later.
"Ron?"
Ron looked ahead and saw that Harry hadn't gone too far after all. He was watching them, frowning.
Ron bit his lip and glanced at Draco. "I suppose I better go. But I wanted…that is, I was meaning to say…"
Draco kept his smile. "Do you want to have a talk sometime, Ron? Away from all these meddlesome friends?"
Ron relaxed. "Yes. I think so."
"Good. I'll hunt you down tomorrow."
Ron sped up then and joined Harry, leaving Draco behind. "What's wrong, Harry?"
Harry took his arm and steered him away quickly. "You have gone mad, haven't you? What in the world could you have to say to Malfoy?"
Ron pulled his arm away somewhat defensively. "I'm not allowed to speak to him?"
"I just don't know why you'd want to." Harry frowned at him. "You're acting very odd lately, Ron."
Ron noticed Harry look back to where they'd left Draco, and saw the suspicious tilt of Harry's frown.
"I wonder what he could be up to," Harry muttered to himself as they walked.
Ron frowned. "He's just being friendly."
"Friendly? Draco Malfoy? You should know better than that."
Something about Harry's suspicion angered Ron a little, but he wasn't sure why until he opened his mouth and the words came out. "I suppose you think he would only talk to me to get to you somehow."
Harry turned surprised eyes to him.
Ron clamped his mouth shut, looking away. Stupid mouth, just blurted out whatever he thought far too much of the time.
Still. Was that part of what Draco had meant when he'd said Ron was hiding under the shadow of his friends? Did Harry honestly think that no one would talk to Ron unless it somehow involved Harry as well?
No, answered a part of his mind. Harry has more than good reason to be suspicious. Draco had been very spiteful towards him for the last year and a half. Spiteful towards all of them. Harry had a right to wonder why he was suddenly acting nice now.
But he wasn't wondering why, was he? He was just assuming that it had something to do with him. He didn't care any of the things Ron had to say about Draco, he just took his own assumptions to be true. Because Ron's opinions couldn't be worth considering, could they?
He grimaced to himself. That was ridiculous. This was Harry, his best friend. What was he thinking?
Harry was still looking at him, still taken aback. So Ron cleared his throat and grinned half-heartedly. "Sorry. Guess I'm a little grumpy today."
Harry nodded after a minute and kept walking.
Ron, as usual, followed.
***
Draco smiled to himself as he stared up at the dark ceiling of the dormitory.
Tomorrow he would pull Weasley aside and they would have a nice talk. After a bit of acting on his part, and a bit of foolish believing on Ron's, Draco would have him. Easy as that.
Question was, what would he do with Weasley once he had him? It wasn't as if he wanted Weasley hanging around. Even though it would be a good blow to Potter to have his best friend sitting with Slytherin, Ron would be too much of an annoyance.
So…what to do?
The only problem this project had as that it didn't have much of an end to it. Winning the favor of Potter's right hand man was one thing. But what to do with that favor once he had it?
One thing was for sure; it would be a way to get back at two enemies at one time. Harry Potter, and those brainless Muggle-loving Weasleys. The whole clan of them sitting there at Gryffindor's table, happy and pleased as punch with their poor, pathetic lives. Even had a new one in this year, the little brat Ginny.
For a moment he honestly almost felt bad for Ron. Hell it must have been growing up in a house full of those annoying beasts.
Perhaps there was some way to turn things around for Weasley. Whether he wanted it or not.
***
Ron felt a tap on his shoulder, and his eyes grew wide when he turned and saw Draco there.
In the middle of the dining hall? He had thought they would be sneaking off somewhere.
But there Draco stood, smiling almost pleasantly. "Ron? I believe we have a date."
Hermione stood up instantly. "He isn't going anywhere with you, Malfoy."
Draco glanced at her, and then turned smiling eyes back to Ron. "I think he may disagree with you, Granger. Your friend does have a mind of his own, you know."
Ron sat up, almost pleased. He did have a mind of his own, didn't he? Absolutely right. "Ignore her, Draco."
Hermione gaped at him. "Ron…"
"Don't start prattling, for God's sake. I'll see you later." He stood up and walked by Draco's side to the door.
***
"Well done back there, Weasley."
Ron grinned and accepted the chocolate frog Draco handed him. "Thanks. It was no big deal, really. Hermione has a big mouth sometimes, is all."
Draco reached into his robe and pulled out another frog, and settled back against the wall. "Think we'll get caught here?"
"Nah. Hermione says no one comes in here. There's a rather annoying ghost in here at times, but maybe she won't come out tonight."
Draco looked around with his old smirk back on his face. "Still. The girl's bathroom?"
Ron shrugged. "As good a place as any."
"I suppose."
They munched for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence.
And then, as Ron finished his frog and was looking at the wizard card in interest, Draco leaned over and kissed him square in the lips.
Ron felt the blood rush to his face, and his mouth dropped open. "What…What was that?"
Draco shrugged, looking defiantly unembarrassed. "Just a thanks for giving me a chance, Ron. No one else in your house would, I think."
"Well…I mean, sure they would. They aren't all bad."
Draco laughed, leaning back.
"What?"
"You don't think it's a little funny? You stopping me from thinking your friends are bad?"
Ron quirked a smile at that, and everything seemed comfortable again.
"But you're wrong. No one at that entire table would have even spoken to me nicely except you."
"It's just…honestly, Draco, you haven't given them much reason to."
"You either," Draco pointed out.
Ron thought about that. "Well, you didn't poison the frog I just ate."
Draco grinned. "Are you sure?"
Ron blinked down at the box in his hand, then shrugged. "Yes."
"Trusting, aren't you?"
"I suppose. I'm still here, anyway."
Draco shrugged. "You can go if you'd like."
"I thought we were going to talk."
"What do we have to talk about, I wonder?"
Ron hesitated. "I'm actually not sure."
"Well then. Maybe we shouldn't talk." Draco wagged his eyebrows.
Ron frowned. "Are you going to kiss me again?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Can you stop answering me with questions?"
Draco laughed. "Maybe."
There was silence.
"Maybe this was a bad idea." Ron stood up suddenly, feeling very awkward.
Draco just watched him. "Ron. Why did you want to talk to me anyway?"
"I don't know. To see if Harry was wrong. To see if you were right about…"
"About you leaving your friends' shadows?"
Ron shrugged, his face coloring pink.
"That's it, is it?"
He hesitated. "I just didn't think of it like that. They're my friends. It surprised me when you said something."
"Of course it did. You're so used to being the little boy, aren't you? Listening to your brothers tell their wonderful stories, watching your mom and dad being so proud of everyone else. You're used to standing by while others take the glory. So it doesn't seem odd to you at all."
"They're my friends," Ron said again, settling back down after a moment.
Draco nodded. "They're your friends. And Crabbe and Goyle are my friends. That doesn't mean they wouldn't stab me in the back if they got something out of it."
Ron laughed at that. "They're not your friends."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "No?"
"Harry's my friend because he listens to me, and we have fun, and we help each other out. Crabbe and Goyle are scared of you, that's all."
"That's all? I suppose I'm not fit to make real friends then. Is that it, Weasley?"
"Well. No, obviously not if I'm here."
Draco frowned. "You think one talk makes us friends?"
"I had thought…" Ron looked down at the ground, considering. "I thought that's what you wanted."
"But not like Crabbe and Goyle are my friends."
"No. I'm not scared of you."
***
Draco looked up sharply at that. He tried to meet Ron's eyes, but he was looking away. "You're not, eh?"
Ron looked up then. "No. I mean…I'm not sure what to make of you. And I can't say that I like how you treat Harry and Hermione and the others. But I'm not scared of you, no."
And Draco could read in the boy's eyes that he was telling the truth. Ron was far too open and foolishly honest. The few times he tried to lie it showed on him easily.
He had to admit he was a little taken aback by that. Just as he was honestly taken aback by Ron's instant certainty that Draco's friends weren't really his friends.
He hadn't thought the Weasley was all that perceptive. He was almost tempted to ask if he and Potter had talked about this before, and maybe Ron got all his ideas from his friend.
Amazing. Stupid pathetic Weasley was actually doing something to surprise him.
Ron looked at him, and then looked away. "That's not an awful thing to say, is it?"
"Admitting you aren't scared of someone?" Draco gave a genuine bark of laughter. "Hardly."
"I just…sometimes I say stupid things like that and it gets me into more trouble than…well. Sometimes I say stupid things. That's all."
Aha. Ron was back to being his usual insecure self. Good.
Draco reached out and touched his arm. "Don't worry about it. Everyone's allowed some mistakes."
Ron looked down at Draco's hand, and his cheeks went pink again.
Draco smiled and sidled in a little closer. "I'm really glad you decided to listen to me, Ron. Now that I've got you alone without your friends here, I can see my father was wrong about you."
Ron looked back up at his face. "Were you really brought up to hate us?"
Draco nodded. "When I was talking about the ideas the wizarding world has about us because of our names…well, my father is one of the worst believers in all that. I…I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything, but I knew all about you before I even came here. He said you'd be slow and stupid and poor, and have all that horrid red hair."
Ron frowned down at himself. "I know you thought that. You made it obvious enough the day we met."
"Well. I'm my father's son, Ron, and I didn't know any better then."
Ron's eyes were on the frayed cuffs of his slacks, his worn hand-me-down robe. "I suppose it wasn't all false, though, was it?"
Draco bit back a grin. He sat up, making his eyes wide and earnest. "Ron. Listen to me. It isn't true, any of it. I mean, maybe you are poor, but it isn't as if that's your fault. And I don't think you're all that slow or stupid. You do all right in class, when you do the work at all."
Ron smiled at that faintly.
Draco lifted his hand from Ron's arm. He tentatively sifted his hands through red hair, musing, "And your hair is red, true, but it certainly isn't horrid. In fact, it's sort of…" He met Ron's wide eyes, dropped his hand suddenly and looked away. "Well. Anyway, I'm sorry you think those awful things are true. And I'm sorry I was one of the ones who made you go on feeling that way. You're not that at all, Ron. You're not like they…you're special."
Ron's eyes came up, wide and round. "Do you think so?" His voice was hushed.
Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Well, yes. Of course. Surely someone's said that to you before. One of your friends, at least?"
Ron shook his head silently. He looked almost awed.
Draco frowned. "They know, though. They must. I've only talked to you for a little while. They've known you for over a year now. They have to see how wonderful you are."
Ron breathed in sharply. "Wond…" He swallowed.
Draco looked down. "Yes. I mean…I probably shouldn't be talking like this. We're enemies, after all. But I feel bad for you now, knowing they don't see what I see. Though I guess Potter has his game and Hermione has her studies, and maybe they think those are more important."
Ron's eyes drifted to the wall. He was frowning to himself.
Draco shut up then. Best not to go too far in one day. "I should be getting back. With our luck all of Gryffindor will storm in here wanting to rescue you from my clutches." He grinned as he stood up, and held his hand out.
This time Ron took it without hesitating and let Draco help him stand. "This is…I mean, can we talk again?"
"Of course. Anytime you'd like."
"Draco…?"
"Yes?"
Ron looked at him seriously. "Do you think there's a chance we might be friends? I think I wouldn't mind that so much."
"I…I don't know, Ron. I mean, we can, but…you saw Granger today. I don't think your other friends would like it so much."
"Does that matter?"
Draco studied him. "Doesn't it?
"What about your friends? Crabbe and Goyle, and the others in Slytherin?"
Draco waved that off. "I don't care what those lunkheads think. I do as I please."
Ron bit at his lip.
Draco touched him on the arm and met his eyes. "You should try it, Ron. Doing as you please. It feels wonderful." He smiled and turned, leaving Ron to think the last minutes over.
He kept smiling even after the door was shut.
