Author's Note: Hmm. Not quite the response I was looking for. In fact, your responses go above and beyond what I expected. Thank you, dearly. And…let's see if we can get past 50 reviews, eh? Oh, and the Weasleys happen to be my favorite characters in the Potter world, so don't think I'm bashing them. I just think that's how they'd respond. And be warned…sappiness soon to follow, but don't think it'll stay that way. I'm not one for huggy feely crap, unless used in negotiating. I'll be back to violence in no time.

Disclaimer: Get over it. It's ain't mine.

"Way to go Fred, I think you killed him."

"Did not!"

"He sure as hell looks it!"

"I didn't break him, if that's what you're implying!"

"Both of you, shut up! He's not dead, and he should be fully recovered by the morning. Nasty business it was, repairing the thing, too," a man's voice broke in.

"So, whoever did that to him was a wizard?"

"It'd have to be. It could be healed with Magic. Muggle inflicted injuries can't."

It was here that Draco opened his eyes and was surprised to find himself on the Weasley family couch, propped up on a remarkably comfy pillow. Beside him, facing the opposite direction with his head at the other end and his feet in Malfoy's face, was Harry. He looked decidedly fragile; his features completely slack and drained of color. His glasses were folded on his chest, which was almost undetectable in its rising and falling. If it was possible, he looked even worse than when Draco had seen him last.

He tried to sit up without disturbing Potter, and almost succeeded in doing so when the Weasleys took notice of his movement.

"Going somewhere?" Mr. Weasley said gently.

Despite the friendly tone, Malfoy froze with one leg off the couch and on the floor. "Umm…"

"If it's more comfortable, you can stand. Your shoulder has been healed, so there should be no further difficulties with that," Mr. Weasley continued.

"Sorry about that," piped in a twin. "I wasn't trying to hurt to you."

Draco nodded, but still didn't move to stand.

"I should also add that the gashes on your back have been healed," Mr. Weasley continued. He was beginning to look uncomfortable. "I…I know this must be hard for you to explain, but who did that to you? And who broke your collarbone?"

Draco scowled. So that's what this was about. It wasn't the first time someone had asked about his father and the scars on his back. There were more on his legs, but those were from when he was young enough to consider running away. "No one," he replied, standing and walking over to the fire in an effort to warm himself. "I fell on my way to Potter's."

"Why were you going there anyway?" Ron asked. Malfoy hadn't even noticed him leaning over the back of the sofa watching his unconscious friend.

"To be quite honest, I haven't the slightest idea. I got on the Knight Bus and his house was the first one to come to mind. Sorry, Weasley, didn't think I'd get much of a welcoming committee if I came here," he added with a smirk. I can't believe I just told them the truth.

"You probably wouldn't. But why on the Knight Bus? Running away from home seems a little bit immature for someone our age. Lucius get nasty?" Ron asked. He wasn't even looking at Draco as he spoke. He was resting his head on his folded arms as he leaned over the back of the couch, waiting for his proverbial twin to wake up.

"You have no idea…" Draco grumbled, then started at the fact that he had been heard.

Arthur Weasley was watching him curiously. "Draco, did you run away from your family?"

"No." It wasn't entirely a lie. He ran away from his father, not his family. He didn't have one to run away from.

"Did your father make those gashes on your back?"

"No," Draco repeated. It wasn't his father, it was Macnair. His father held him and broke his collarbone.

Arthur seemed to sense that Draco wasn't going to tell him anything about himself, so he redirected the questioning. "What happened to Harry?"

Draco cast a sidelong look at the battered figure that Ron still hadn't turned away from. Potter would either be mad he told the truth, or glad. Hopefully, it would be the latter. Malfoy swallowed. "His uncle. His uncle did that to him."

There was a collective gasp from around the room and Draco noticed that both female Weasleys and the oldest at-home brother Percy were there as well.

"The Dursleys did that to him? But…he's almost dead!" Mrs. Weasley protested. "He's never had bruises before! Not even a mark! Why would they suddenly…" she stopped, unable to say the words. But Draco could.

"Why would they beat the living daylights out of him?" he prompted, receiving a murderous glare from Percy, as if he had upset his mother further by completing the sentence.

"Something to that effect, yes. What did you see when you went there?" Arthur continued as Mrs. Weasley broke into silent tears.

Malfoy would rather think about anything else at the moment. He'd probably never be able to come to grips with what he had seen if it hadn't been so close to his own memories. "When I got there, I had no idea what I was going to do, so I just peeked in the front window." He paused, not sure if he wanted to continue, but he caught Ron's eye. Ron was staring at him now, urging him on with a look so pleading it was…scary. Ron was terrified for his friend he treated as a family member. Draco had never seen anyone look so concerned over him, not even his own family, much less Crabbe and Goyle. Draco swallowed and continued his story. "Anyway, I didn't see anything at first, just some whale of a kid watching an animated box while stuffing his face. I thought I had the wrong house, and was about to leave when I heard a shout. Potter came tearing out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell and there was this huge man chasing after him with this cane." Draco saw the Weasleys collectively wince as he said this, but he pressed on. "The man, who I assume was his uncle hit him across the back of his legs and Potter fell. I guess his uncle hit him about ten more times across the back of his legs…a couple on his side and shoulder…he wanted to make sure he couldn't get away." Malfoy swallowed again, vividly remembering the horrifying scene. "Then…when he was done…he grabbed him by his arm and threw him into the cupboard underneath the stairs. His uncle left, and I sneaked in and tried to get him out. He caught us and he shoved me into the doorframe…and then Potter came out of nowhere and tried to strangle him before…cursing him. Then we made a getaway. We took the Knight Bus and came here." Draco stopped, finished. He looked around the room expectantly to see if anyone believed him.

Mrs. Weasley looked like she was going to either break down in tears or strangle someone, Ginny was crying softly while one of the twins hugged her. Percy had an arm resting on the other twin's shoulder, Mr. Weasley looking horrified, but determined, and Ron…Ron was staring at him without blinking, his eyes looking slightly glassy and faraway.

The entire room was silent except the crackling fire behind Draco.

The stunned silence stretched on, and Draco edged towards the door, hoping no one would notice or care enough to stop him. This whole "caring thing" was kind of scary. "I'll just be going now, you don't need me. Thanks for fixing my shoulder, good-bye!" he said, before darting for the door, but was easily blocked by the twins.

"Where are you going to go?"

"Back to your father?"

"Wouldn't be smart move."

"Besides…" Arthur Weasley interrupted Fred and George. "You should at least stay around for the night. I doubt you'll want to hitchhike back to your house in the dark. If I'm not mistaken, it's fairly far out in the moors, correct?"

Malfoy nodded, but protested anyway. "What do you care what I do? I'm not a very nice person; you've all met me before! I tried to sabotage Potter and Ron every where I went! What do you care if my father and his Deatheaters kick the crap out of me for fun?" Draco stopped suddenly, clapping a hand to his mouth. "I didn't just say that…"

"Yes you did. Is it true?" Arthur asked gently.

Draco blanked. "Um…no?" he cursed himself for making it sound like a question. Damnit…

"Why would you want to back to that?" Ginny asked. Draco was surprised she spoke at all.

Malfoy was on the verge of another lie, but thought Screw it. "Why? Because I belong there! Not here, where you care just as little about what happens to me. You just feel pity. Poor Malfoy, his father beats him up. We should feel sorry for him and be nice," Draco imitated an extremely high pitched version of an authority figure. "Sorry, but I'd rather find some place else to avoid my father and his minions. Besides…I only came to give you Potter, who, to be quite honest, is a lot more deserving of your sympathy than I am."

"Do you have somewhere to go?" Percy asked.

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Because if you do, you could use Floo powder and our fire to get there," Percy suggested, waving towards the merry blaze.

Draco stared at Percy, slightly confused. "Why do you care if I have some place to go?" This didn't fall under pity, did it?

"Because that's what most people do. They worry about whether you've got someplace to go. They wonder who will take you in. They like to know that their concern is unfounded, though they'll probably do it anyway. That's what friend's do. Even if you don't care about us, we'll probably still care what happens to you," Percy explained.

"Yeah," said Ron. He was following Draco's movements with his eyes. He didn't seem to have the heart to leave his friend. "We know what you're really like, now. And you can't take it back. I mean, in Hogwarts you always want to make people believe your family spoils you, so you act like a git. But…you can't really be that bad if you actually saved your worst enemy. So stop acting like you are."

Draco sighed, and threw his arms up in resignation. "I can't believe I was just put in a guilt trip by you."

"Get used to it. He does it a lot on the summer holidays," a twin said. "By the way, if you're wondering which one I am, it's George."

"Thank you for finally straightening that out. I was about to ask." Draco looked over at the couch where Harry lay stretched out, the only color on his cheeks from the heat of the fire and the dark bruising. "How is he, anyway?"

"Not too bad, all things considered. The injuries are Muggle inflicted, so they can't be healed by magic, like your shoulder. But he's still bad off. I'm considering taking him to Madame Pomfrey if he doesn't wake up by tomorrow afternoon," Arthur replied, turning back to look at Harry. "He's got several broken ribs, cracked cheek bone; I assume he was hit with a cane, no hand could do that easily. Dislocated shoulder, broken wrist…most of the bruising should fade in time, they're nothing serious. What really has me worried is the infection in the lashes on his legs and back. I don't know how long they've been like that, but he's lucky he hasn't gotten blood poisoning though." Arthur paused. "Even if he does wake up tomorrow, we'll have to call Madame Pomfrey. I don't think he can make it to the castle."

"That bad, huh?" Malfoy muttered more to himself than anyone else. "Are you sure it's safe here? I mean, aren't there some sort of charms around his old place to keep You-Know-Who away?"

"They don't realize he's gone yet. In another twenty-four hours, we'll be at Hogwarts, which is twice as safe." Percy answered.

"You might want to get some sleep, Draco. You've had a long day," Mrs. Weasley bustled, shooing him away from the door. Draco hopped away a few steps, the stopped.

"I just woke up!" he protested, alarmed that he was sounding like a child.

"That's a stress nap. When you're body endures its limits of pain and exhaustion for one day, generally you either pass out or have an impromptu nap. So…now is time for some real sleep." Mrs. Weasley waved her hand at Draco mock-threateningly as she explained.

"But...but…"

"No buts! Upstairs!"

"What about the chair? I'll sleep in the chair! I don't want to go upstairs!"

"Why not?"

Draco paused for a moment, before grinning. "Because I like it better down here. I'm not imposing, and I know the bottom floor best. Besides…it looks like the top of the house is going to blow over."

Mrs. Weasley swatted at him, but smiled. "Fine. We'll be upstairs anyway. Arthur and Percy might be taking Floo every once in a while, depending on the severity of the situation. You can keep an eye on Harry along with Ron."

Before he had agreed or even protested, she had conjured a blanket and pillow out of thin air and let the drop onto the armchair in front of the fire.

"Make yourself comfortable. It's about three in the morning, so no one will disturb you for at least a few hours. Ron," she said, turning on her son. "I want you to get some sleep too. It'll do Harry no good if you wind up sick and exhausted."

Ron nodded. "I'll be up in a bit."

"Good night dear." Mrs. Weasley kissed her son's forehead, then bent and kissed Harry, smoothing his dampened bangs away from his face, then turned to Malfoy. "Good night, Draco. Sleep well." With that, the plump woman chased the remaining Weasleys upstairs, much to their protest.

Malfoy couldn't help but smile as he heard Arthur's grumbling along with his children's. He settled down comfortably in the chair that Mrs. Weasley had placed the blanket and pillow in, and closed his eyes to sleep. However, he immediately discovered he couldn't. He felt Ron's stare on him.

"What?"

"I was just wondering why you never told anyone about your dad," Ron replied indifferently, shrugging.

"I suspect for the same reasons Potter never told you about his uncle. One, who would I tell? Why would they bother with me? With Voldemort coming back, I highly doubt the Ministry would bother with a charity case for one of his supporter's son. Two, I thought by staying there, I was sort of helping my mother. If my father had me to beat up on, then he would leave my mother alone. And third, I guess…I had nowhere else to go."

Ron nodded, not sympathetically, but that was to be expected. They had been enemies far longer than mutual acquaintances. "I guess I can understand that."

"You'll be the first who does," Malfoy grumbled, shifting the blankets higher up on his chin.

*That's where I'm leaving it. Don't worry, it's not done, but I need to end this chapter. Until next time, I bid you all adieu.