Harry's mouth opened, but the question he wanted to ask right off didn't come out. He thought better of it, and let Ron take his seat there at Gryffindor's long dinner table without saying anything.

But he wasn't the only one with questions. Hermione stared at Ron, then glanced over at Harry with her eyebrows up.

Harry shrugged and looked to Ron.

It wasn't just the new robe, though that was obvious. Ron hadn't mentioned anything about a new robe, and the way his brothers were all watching him in surprise, it hadn't been a gift from the family.

But it wasn't only that. Ron was red-faced and smiling as if he just couldn't stop himself. He didn't look at any of them, just sat down and sighed, playing with a fork absently.

Harry couldn't help it -- he looked back behind him towards Slytherin's table.

Draco sat there as usual, between Crabbe and Goyle. He looked a little bit red himself, but otherwise he looked the same as ever. His eyes didn't go to Harry or his table at all, and he seemed his usual composed and smug self.

Harry frowned at him, then looked back at Ron.

Someone was going to mention the robe -- it as too easy to spot, too odd a thing for the littlest Weasley brother to be wearing. Harry just hoped Ron reacted well.

It was Ginny, finally, who broke the silence. Distracted as she had been with her friends when Ron had come in, once the meal was going she spotted him sitting there and shot up. "Ron! Goodness, where on earth did you get that?"

Harry's eyes went to Ron instantly, not wanting to miss anything.

But Ron didn't do anything too suspicious. Didn't automatically look over at Slytherin's table or blow Draco a kiss or anything ridiculous like that.

He just grinned at his sister and shrugged the robe tighter over his shoulders. "Get what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ron. You know very well what I'm talking about."

He blinked innocent eyes at her. "Do I?"

She turned to Harry pointedly. "Make him talk."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

There was something in Ron's gaze, something challenging. Something that Harry didn't exactly like seeing there.

Ron spoke softly, and Harry's suspicion was confirmed. "Harry isn't going to make me do anything I don't want to do."

Harry definitely saw the challenge now. He'd be surprised if anyone there missed it. "Of course not. But I do wonder why you suddenly can't answer a simple question in front of your own friends."

Ron smirked.

Harry breathed in quietly. Ron suddenly looked more Malfoy than Weasley. Or was he being paranoid?

"You don't really need me to answer anything. I'm sure there's someone you can go threaten to get the answers, isn't there?" Ron's gaze was steady.

"Probably, but I wouldn't do that unless I had some reason to think you were in trouble."

"And maybe you should let me decide for myself what trouble is."

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione put in suddenly. "You seem to have a hard time recognizing it these days, don't you?"

Neither of them bothered turning to her. Harry studied his friend, and it suddenly hit him that this might be a more important conversation than he thought.

Maybe things had gotten so out of hand so fast that Ron was seriously questioning Harry and their friendship.

When had that happened?

He had to resist looking back at Slytherin table. He knew almost certainly that if Draco's eyes weren't on them before, they were now. As if he knew what was happening.

Harry swallowed back a sudden sadness. He wasn't about to let Ron go without a fight, that was for sure. Even if the fight was with Ron himself. "Is it so strange that we worry about you?"

"I don't suppose so. But it is strange that you obviously don't trust me to make my own decisions."

"I trust you completely." Harry spoke nothing but the truth. "But I don't trust Draco Malfoy, and I won't. It has nothing to do with you."

Ron sat up. "It does. Draco is my friend."

There were a few surprised whispers from those around them watching the unexpected confrontation.

Harry shook his head sadly. "Draco isn't anyone's friend, Ron. I don't know why he's doing this, but I know he's going to hurt you for trusting him."

Ron's lips tightened and pressed together, and he stood up suddenly.

Harry stood an instant later. "Ron, please. Don't--"

"Harry." Ron was the one who now seemed sad. "I'll see you later." He stepped around his chair and left the dining hall.

Harry glanced towards the professors' table, but none of them even seemed to notice Ron go.

Harry hesitated only for an instant; only long enough to spare a hard look back at a smirking Malfoy, before going after Ron himself.

***

Draco debated with himself for a few moments.

Deciding finally that whatever happened would be too good to miss, he stood and slipped away from the table while Crabbe and Goyle were arguing over a tongue-tying spell.

He noticed the professors were pointedly ignoring what was going on, and he wondered. Old Dumbledore didn't miss much of anything. Maybe they were waiting around to see what happened.

Interesting.

He left the dining hall and slipped into the hallway, and heard their voices before he saw them.

"--not even once occurred to you that he might just want to be my friend, has it? That maybe someone else might actually like the poor stupid Weasley brat."

"Ron, you know that's ridiculous." Potter was starting to sound a little worried.

Draco peered around the corner and saw Ron's face, red and angry, facing him. He ducked back.

"Is it? 'Why would he come to you, then? Why wouldn't he go to Harry?' That's what Hermione said. You're both so shocked that someone might actually want to get to know me without being interested in the great Harry Potter."

"You know I don't think that, Ron. I don't think of myself like that."

"But you have been. This whole time, it's 'what's he planning? How's he going to hurt us?'"

"Not us. You. This isn't about me. Not at all."

"Isn't it?"

They both turned as Draco spoke, and he slid from around the corner and smiled encouragingly at Ron before turning his eyes to Potter. "That's not what you said the other day."

Potter turned red with anger, as if he knew what was coming.

Draco met his eyes evenly. "Or did I hear you wrong? You said you knew I was making some play to get to you through him, and you wouldn't let me. You told me I was only using Ron because of you."

"You're lying!" Potter's voice was near a shout, full of the indignation of the innocent.

Draco shook his head, and let some of his sincere hatred of Potter come back out of hiding. "You treat him like a pet or something, and now you're angry at me for making him see that."

"Never. I never…he's my friend. He's always been…" Potter turned wide eyes to Ron, going instantly from anger to near-tears. "Ron, please."

Ron stared at him, then nodded back towards Draco. "Is that true?"

Potter answered quietly. "You have to ask?"

Ron swallowed, and Draco could see the anger in his eyes wavering.

"Can't give him a straight answer, Potter?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

Draco turned victorious eyes to Ron. "Crabbe and Goyle were right there. They can tell you themselves if you don't believe me."

"Crabbe and Goyle," Potter retorted without looking at Draco, "would agree with anything you said."

Ron looked back and forth between both of them.

Draco kept smiling easily. "If it's to be my word against yours, Potter, than I guess you have the advantage, don't you? No one would listen to me with you around."

Potter turned at that, glaring. "And why do you think that is? Because you're a liar and a bully and you treat people like dirt."

"And the moment I don't, you come after me and try and make me fight again. Why is that? Maybe there's no Harry Potter at all without a Draco Malfoy to fight with."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it? You can't be all grand and heroic if you don't have an enemy, can you?"

"You're twisting everything around, like always."

"Are you so sure?"

Potter hesitated, frowning at him with a severe furrow in his brow.

In the pause that followed there was silence around them. Too much silence.

Draco looked away from Potter and cursed to himself.

Potter turned around at that and saw, too -- Ron was nowhere in sight. He must have taken off while they were arguing.

Potter tensed, then whirled back to face Draco. "There, you see. You can drop the act. He's not here for you to fool any longer."

But Draco wasn't so sure. Ron could be right around the corner. Besides, there was fun in making Potter doubt himself a little. "I should say the same to you."

"Come off it, Malfoy!"

Draco moved in a step and lowered his voice. "I won't let you take him from me, Potter. He's the first good thing I've ever found for myself."

And there it was, that confused look that said Potter was considering believing him.

Satisfied, Draco spun on his heel and tromped back to the dining hall.

***

Harry found Ron on his bed in the dorm, sitting there staring out the window with his brand new robe drawn tight around him.

He approached slowly. "Ron?"

Ron glanced over. There wasn't much to read from his face. "Harry."

Harry sat down on his bed. "Are you terribly angry with me?"

"Yes," Ron replied easily. "The whole lot of you. And me, too. What a mess it's all turned into."

Harry hummed his agreement and looked out the window at the grounds below.

"It's strange. You know, I've been thinking about it just now, and it's almost like a game of chess. Except instead of playing, I feel like one of the pieces. And on one side are you and Hermione and my brothers and Ginny and everyone. And on the other side is just Draco. I feel like a piece just getting moved all over the board, but I can't figure out which team I'm on. Like both sides get to move me wherever they want me. Is that ridiculous?"

Harry smiled to himself thinly. "No."

"I'm not sure why Draco's side doesn't get creamed by the other team. He's just Malfoy, after all. A month ago I would have said…but it's different now."

Harry turned to his friend, who seemed awfully pensive and not at all like himself. "Why is it different?" he asked with a sincere desire to know the answer.

Ron turned to him. "He…he said…" He shook his head and sighed. "It's stupid, I guess."

"What?"

Ron met his eyes even while flushing with embarrassment. "He thinks I'm special."

Harry blinked at that, surprised. And then he sighed, sad, because for that to be so important to Ron must mean that Harry had not nearly been a good enough friend. The only problem was if he simply said it now it wouldn't mean anything. So he shook his head in self-reproach. "Oh, Ron."

Ron looked back towards the window. He was still flushed red. "Well. I don't know what it is, really."

"And I don't know what to do about it," Harry responded, frowning. "I don't think there's anything else I can say that you don't know. I don't trust him, and I don't like it. But I do trust you, and I hate that you don't believe that."

"I do. I know you do, Harry. I've said some horrible things lately that aren't true."

"I think I just have to leave you to it. It's hard for me, thinking he might hurt you. But I suppose it's even harder to hurt you myself. So…be friends with whoever you'd like, Ron. Malfoy, even. Just don't stop being friends with me, okay?"

Ron looked to him, eyes wide. "I could hardly do that. You're the best friend I've ever had, Harry."

Harry smiled, letting go of some of the tension he had been carrying around for what felt like weeks. "You, too."

Ron smiled back, but it wasn't near his usual broad and goofy smile that Harry had come to look forward to seeing each day.

Still, it was something.

***

Draco shifted on his feet defensively. "So. Did Potter get what he wanted? Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

Ron smiled easily, feeling much better about things after his talk with Harry the night before. "Of course not. I told you he wouldn't decide my friends for me, and I meant it. In fact…I only wanted to see you so I could give you something."

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

Ron nodded. He reached into his robe and pulled out an oddly wrapped little misshapen package. He looked down at it for a minute, as if debating, and then stretched it out without looking at Draco. "Here."

Draco took it and unwrapped the paper from it slowly. What emerged turned out to be a small, well-carved chess piece.

He held it up and looked at it, his brow furrowed.

Ron spoke softly, his voice timid. "It's…she's the queen. She…she's the one everyone's afraid of, right? Because she can move however she wants. Do whatever she wants. But she's the most brilliant piece on the board. She wins or loses the game, really."

Draco looked past the chess piece to where Ron stood fidgeting. He stared at Ron until the other boy cleared his throat and broke the silence again.

"It's from…McGonagall gave it to me last year. Part of her old set. Nicer than mine, and it was only the one piece."

"Because of your chess game. To help Potter stop Quirrell." Draco spoke quietly. He knew the story -- everyone knew the story. But the details were sketchy, and he had never bothered to listen to anyone tell the whole thing properly without ignoring them in disgust.

Ron nodded. "Anyway," he said quickly. "It's just a stupid little present, that's all. Nothing like this," he touched his robe almost reverently, "but I wanted to give you something."

"I told you you didn't have to."

"I know I didn't have to. I wanted to." Ron smiled then, shy, and tugged his robe around him. "I'll be late to the library. I'll see you in Potions, Draco."

Draco's eyes went back to the chess piece as Ron left.

He looked at it for a while.

***

Funny how things kept happening that Draco didn't expect.

Unusual. It had to be the change in his routine. Him changing his behavior meant people around him changed theirs as well. But he hadn't taken that into consideration.

"What do you say, Malfoy?"

He looked from Marcus Flint to Crabbe and Goyle behind him, to the few other Slytherins behind them. "I say the lot of you must have forgotten who I am."

Flint sneered. "Oh, please. I think it's you who've forgotten. You think you're dangerous enough to run this house? You thought it as a Firstie, and you think it now. Well, Malfoy, there were times last year when I almost would have let you. You had potential. And now…running around with Potter's leftovers, chatting with Gryffindor in the middle of lunch where everyone can see you, sneaking off to be alone with them…"

Draco glared back at him, cursing in his head. He hadn't taken into account the disadvantages of his public moves on Ron. "Look, Flint. I could care less whether you approve of my behavior or not."

"You make us look bad, Malfoy. You thought we would just stand back and let you?" Flint moved forward slowly.

Like they were attached by invisible strings, the rest of the crowd followed him instantly.

Draco didn't back up -- couldn't. "What's wrong? Gryffindors laughing at you, Flint? I should think you could handle that on your own, without turning on people in your own house."

Flint narrowed his eyes at Draco. "This isn't about me. This is about this whole house. Bad enough we lost the house cup last year. Bad enough Snape himself is disgusted with us. Bad enough to lose to Potter the first Quidditch game of the year. Now we've got you acting like you'd rather be with them than with us."

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco snapped back.

But they kept moving towards him.

They filled up the hall in front of him -- no escape there. And behind him was the door into Slytherin's common room, where they would just corner him again.

So he stood his ground. His thoughts flashed suddenly and strangely to Ron the night before, handing over that stupid chess piece. Most dangerous piece on the board, he'd said. Won or lost the game.

Damned right. It was about time these pawns started learning that.

He put a hand on his wand. "What I do," he said quietly. "And why I do it is my own business."

"Oh no you don't, Malfoy. You pull out that wand and this ends fast."

Draco raised an eyebrow, still cool. "You're forgetting who I am. Who my father is."

Flint snorted a laugh. "We know who your father is. But you, Draco, aren't your father."

Draco smiled slightly. "Do you think so?" There was nothing but cold confidence in his voice.

Flint wavered.

Draco almost laughed at him. How easy it all was.

"Draco?"

Oh, damn.

He looked past the crowd of Slytherin, and could have screamed.

Ron stood there, looking at him through the group. His eyes were glittering unpleasantly.

Flint instantly got back his courage. "Oh, look boys. Draco's new little pet has come to defend its master. Don't all run at once."

Laughter went through the crowd.

Ron didn't seem to hear it. He pushed past the smaller boys in the back and shocked Crabbe by practically shoving him into the wall to get past.

Draco wanted to yell at him to get away, to not make this so much bloody worse. But anything he could have said would sound like he was trying to protect Ron, which really would make things worse. So he just watched.

Ron reached his side and turned to face them grimly. "What's the problem here?"

Flint laughed loudly, genuinely amused. "Draco, do you really need your trained monkey here to protect you?"

Draco shrugged coolly. "I don't remember asking him to come. What he does is none of my business."

Ron glanced over. His eyes were strangely dark, angry. Almost like when Draco was insulting Potter, or attacking the Weasleys. Like he was genuinely angry that they were ganging up on Draco.

Draco spoke before he could stop himself, looking back at Ron. "Though it is a stupid thing to do, and he should probably get away while he can."

Ron just squared his jaw and faced the group of Slytherin.

Stupid git. Draco knew before Flint even said anything that Ron would get just what he wanted -- they wouldn't even look at Draco while there was a Gryffindor there to take care of.

Flint spoke first. "Crabbe? Would you like a go?"

Crabbe, rubbing the shoulder that had hit the wall first when Ron shoved him, got that stupid blank look on his face that meant he was seeing blood.

Ron folded his arms across his chest, not showing the least bit of fright.

Draco almost admired that, though it was the stupidest thing he had ever seen. He couldn't do anything to stop it, either. Anything that didn't look like he wanted Ron to be safe. Which would make this come again, a hundred times worse.

Or could he? "Crabbe."

Crabbe glanced at him.

"Didn't we talk about this before? Do you have any idea what I do to people who don't let me handle my own messes?"

Crabbe hesitated. He looked over at Flint, then Ron, then back at Draco.

But his fear of Draco, over a year in the making, won out, and he stopped moving.

Draco smiled grimly and turned to Ron. The pathetic thing was, Ron would probably understand all this later. He'd be all wide-eyed and earnest and say he knew why Draco had to do it to save them both or something.

But before Draco could make his move to get Ron out of the fight, Flint made his move. Disgusted at Crabbe and Draco, he was by Ron in a moment. "Oh, for Gods sake," he said simply in anger, and then the older boy just grabbed Ron's shirt and threw him back into the crowd of waiting Slytherin. "Someone please take care of this Weasel."

Draco watched Ron disappear into the group. They came to life then, and Draco easily saw the flexing limbs of a fight that Ron couldn't possibly win.

His heart starting beating faster, and he squared his jaw and turned to Flint.

Flint nodded back at the fighting. "I suppose you want to jump in there and save him, do you?"

Draco smiled. His eyes, he knew, were cold as ice. He radiated nothing but calm and confidence, and that thin smile that Flint wouldn't understand.

Sure enough, as Draco simply held that expression without even looking towards the fight, Flint's own grin faded slowly. He glanced down at Draco's wand, which was untouched. But he still flashed a bit of fear through his eyes as he met Draco's expression.

Draco held his eyes steadily, smiling all the while.

Flint looked away faster than even Draco would have thought. "That's enough," he barked out, anger filling his body. "Let the stupid thing go. Leave Malfoy here to tend his new toy."

Draco watched Flint, satisfied, as he waded in and pulled Goyle off Ron and shoved him off down the corridor. "I said that's enough! Let's go! We've got better things to do than deal with these two."

But Draco had won that little battle, and they both knew it.

When the little crowd disappeared around a corner, Draco waited. He waited until the sound of them had faded, and then, only then, did he turn to Ron.

Ron at least wasn't just lying there in a heap waiting to get helped. He was pushing himself to his feet, though obviously shaky. There as blood on his face and, Draco noted with something that almost felt like approval, blood on his fists. He had caused damage.

An arm went to his stomach, and he turned as if it hurt to move. Which Draco imagined was probably the case. He had been a part of some of those beatings, on the other side of course, and knew how his house liked to hurt.

Ron turned to him, breathing shallowly.

Draco met his eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, he really wasn't sure what to do right then.

Ron dropped his gaze and wiped at his cheek, smearing blood from a deep scratch. "Sorry," he said faintly, his voice thick. He turned and limped off down the hall.

Draco cursed to himself and only let him get a few steps before he was there at Ron's side, lacing an arm around his waist. "Do you have any idea how stupid you are?" he bit out angrily as he helped Ron towards the hospital wing.

Luckily when they turned that first corner there was no sign of anyone, Slytherin or otherwise.

Ron laughed, and then groaned. "I do now."

"You could have gotten both of us killed, Ron."

"I know."

"They would have killed you and then turned right on me."

"Yeah."

Draco pulled him to a stop and turned him angrily. "What in the world were you thinking, you stupid ponce?"

Ron shrugged, and when he smiled blood came trickling down from his swollen lip. "Couldn't let you face them alone."

Draco growled at that and started marching Ron forward again. "Would have been better if you had. If I had lost with Flint we'd both be a bit worse off now. I don't know how to do things if it isn't just me facing them alone."

Ron laughed again, sounding vacant. "Better learn."

"Why?"

Ron glanced over. "I'm your friend now."

Draco shook his head in frustration.

But there was something odd about that little moment. Something about Ron, limping and hurt, smiling with blood on his chin and in his teeth, acting all proud or something to have been there to help Draco out.

Something odd. Something that almost made Draco smile back.

He didn't, of course. He was far too angry at the entire situation.

But he also stopped berating Ron for being stupid. He led him the rest of the way to Pomfrey without another word.

***

When Draco stepped into the common room, it was with only a mild interest that he looked around for Flint or Crabbe and Goyle.

There they all were, sitting around talking about something stupid. And they all noticed when he came in.

He nodded at Crabbe and Goyle, ignored Flint entirely, and went to his usual spot by the fire to sit.

He didn't watch, but he could practically see in his head the little struggles as Crabbe and Goyle looked between him and Flint. Flint was head of the house, of course, and a seventh year, and a very powerful friend to have.

But Draco was unsurprised to catch movement out of the corner of his eye, and to see Crabbe and Goyle, a moment later, appear in front of him to take their seats with him.

He did glance over after that, and saw Flint heading back towards the dormitories.

He smiled to himself darkly and faced Crabbe and Goyle. "So. What have I missed?"

***

Ron drank the foul liquid Pomfrey handed him with a grimace, and made a face as he handed the empty glass back. "Really. Do you have to make medicine that tastes that horrid?"

But he was already feeling better as his bruises and cuts instantly started knitting themselves up.

Pomfrey frowned at him sternly. "As often as you're in here, Mr. Weasley, I should think you would be used to it by now."

Ron grinned and laid back. "When can I go?"

"I'm keeping you tonight."

"But why? I'm not hurt bad at all!"

She glared down at him in her disapproving way. "Because keeping you safe here for one night is the only way I can be sure you won't be back in here by the morning with more bruises and scrapes. I swear, Mr. Weasley, I use more of this on you than any other student in school. Even those brothers of yours. Not that they ever learn either…" Still tutting to herself, she moved down the rows of mostly empty beds and shut the door behind her.

Of course, mere moments after she left she was back, and her frown was even more stern. "Five minutes, Mr. Weasley."

He grinned and nodded.

And there were Harry and Hermione rushing to his side. "Ron, what in the world?"

"We don't see you all day almost and then they tell us you're in here?"

Ron beamed at them. "Who told you?"

Harry frowned at him. "McGonagall."

He was surprised by that. "How in the world did she know? I only just got here minutes ago."

"Ron, what happened? Pomfrey says you're not dying or anything. She did mutter something about you being brain-dead, but I don't think she meant literally."

"It's nothing, Harry. Just a fight. Some crowd from Slytherin."

Hermione frowned severely. "It's dangerous enough you fighting those bullies with us there. You ought not go against them on your own. This could have been much worse."

"I wasn't on my own," Ron reported truthfully enough. "And I walked right into it. So it's my own fault for being stupid."

"Malfoy was involved somehow, wasn't he?" She stared at him pointedly.

Ron answered fast. "I'm sure if he had his way I never would have been there at all."