DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. It all belongs to JK Rowling.

A/N: Apologies again for the delay, but my PC was stolen in a burglary and I've only just gotten a replacement. This chapter has been hanging around in my head for weeks and as soon as I got my new PC this morning I banged it out. Thanks to all my faithful and (hopefully) patient reviewers and readers – I hope you enjoy this installment. One more chapter to go, folks – and then we're done … PepperImp

The three of them landed in an untidy heap, and Harry instantly rolled off Malfoy's prone form and leapt to his feet, wand at the ready. He whirled around, eyes darting everywhere, and then felt his shoulders droop in relief when he found himself in the deserted hospital wing at Hogwarts. He'd never been so glad to see a hospital bed in his life.

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!" he shouted desperately, hurrying to Ron's side and kneeling beside him to turn him over. If it was possible, Ron looked even worse. The bruises on his swollen face were an angry red-purple, and a huge welt was forming on his forehead.

There was a bustling behind him, and the school nurse burst into the room. "Good heavens, Mr Potter!" she gasped, tying her blue dressing-gown tightly around her. "What have you done now?"

"It's not me – it's Ron," said Harry quickly. "He's badly hurt, Madam Pomfrey – he fell over a banister and landed on the floor below."

Without wasting another second, Madam Pomfrey levitated Ron onto the nearest bed and began to examine him.

"What about Mr Malfoy?" she said, nodding distractedly over her shoulder.

"Oh," said Harry, who had completely forgotten about him. "He's fine – just Stunned."

He pointed his wand at Malfoy and said: "Ennervate." Immediately, Malfoy opened his eyes, groaned, and sat up. Not immediately realizing where he was, he shot into a crouch and stared around, panicked.

"Relax, Jackie Chan," said Harry drily. Malfoy stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Never mind – Muggle stuff. We're back at Hogwarts, so take it easy."

Standing slowly, Malfoy looked at him in amazement. "How the hell did we get here? The last thing I remember …" he gulped and looked guiltily at Madam Pomfrey.

"Portkey," said Harry succinctly. They were both distracted by the orange glow coming from Ron's bed, and Harry moved to his friend's side.

"Nasty, this," said Madam Pomfrey, as she waved her wand slowly over Ron's broken body. "Concussion, broken nose and cheekbone, dislocated shoulder, broken collarbone and arm, and badly sprained knee. Even with magical healing, it's going to take him a few days to get over this. I'd better get hold of his parents."

She looked shrewdly at Harry. "I'm not going to ask how he ended up like this, Mr Potter – I think you should tell the Headmaster yourself, don't you?"

Harry nodded glumly. This was going to be worth at least a hundred points deducted from Gryffindor. He only hoped Dumbledore would take at least fifty off Slytherin as well.

Madam Pomfrey bustled to the end of the ward, and tugged on what looked like a golden bell-pull. "The Headmaster will be here shortly," she said, moving back to Ron's bedside. "I'd suggest you two sit in my office … and get your story straight." If Harry didn't know better, he could have sworn he saw a twinkle in her eye.

They turned to go, and then Harry remembered something. "Oh – Madam Pomfrey?" he said hesitantly. She looked at him, eyebrows raised questioningly. "Ron was also subjected to the Cruciatus Curse, so there might also be some damage due to that."

"Unbelievable," she muttered, staring at him in horror. "Never in my life … students, subjected to Unforgiveables. All right, thank you, Mr Potter. Now off you go and let me work in peace."

Looking down at Ron's battered countenance; Harry felt an unexpected prickling behind his eyes. "Get better, mate," he said softly, and patted Ron's hand awkwardly. Turning to head to Madam Pomfrey's office, he caught a glimpse of Malfoy rolling his eyes.

"Shut it, Malfoy," he growled. Malfoy looked wounded.

"I didn't say anything," he muttered back.

"No, but you were thinking it."

"What – you're mind-reader now?"

"Actually," said Harry as he stalked into the office. "I am. So watch it."

Malfoy snorted disbelievingly. "Oh, right. Yet another gift to add to the list of the fabulous Harry Potter. Walked on water yet? Converted water to wine? Oops – sorry… those are easy ones in the wizarding world. How about figuring out how to block the Killing Curse? Oh yeah – you've done that already. Let's see – how about …"

"That's enough from you, Mr Malfoy," said a new voice from the doorway, just as Harry lunged for Malfoy's throat in fury. "Let him go, Harry – now!"

Harry released Malfoy and turned to see Professor Dumbledore in the doorway, hands on hips, and eyes blazing.

"Sir …" he started uncertainly.

"We will speak later, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Mr Malfoy, I see you are wearing your family ring. Does this mean what I think it does?"

"Yes," said Malfoy, lifting his chin defiantly. "My father's dead."

Not for one moment did Harry believe Malfoy's cockiness. Waves of misery and uncertainty were pouring off him, and again Harry felt a flicker of sympathy.

For a second, Dumbledore regarded him steadily. "I'm sorry to hear that, Draco," he said quietly, putting his hand on the blond boy's shoulder. "My deepest condolences." Malfoy's lower lip trembled slightly, and then he set his jaw and thinned his lips.

"I gather, then – this is why you three were out there tonight?" said Dumbledore, regarding Harry once again from under lowered brows. "Facing Voldemort alone again, Harry?"

"I wasn't alone!" Harry said irritably. Dumbledore raised one eyebrow.

"Well, it doesn't matter, does it?" Harry snapped, the tension and events of the night finally getting to him. "You and I both know I could have been there with twenty of the best Aurors, and you, and all of the Hogwarts teachers – and it would still come down to just him and me. I'm just sorry that Ron got hurt in the process."

"Yes – I see that," said Dumbledore shortly. "And since we had some prior warning that you had tangled with Voldemort once again, we knew something was going on. We just had no idea where you were, or what happened… exactly."

Harry stared at him, still angry, but somewhat confused. "How could you know?"

"Your attempt at Legilimency woke your friends, who apparently came to your aid," said Dumbledore. "Mr Longbottom alerted me, and we have been waiting – somewhat impatiently, I might add – for your return."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed with amusement. "I think it is only right to warn you, Harry, that you have two females out there who want to see you drawn and quartered. It's times like this that young Miss Weasley reminds me of her mother …"

Harry gulped. Oh yes, he knew exactly what he was in store for. And Hermione saw what had happened to Ron … Maybe if he just made a run for it now? But his Firebolt was still in that awful cottage outside Hogsmeade…

There was a banging on the office door, and it opened abruptly to reveal Hermione and Ginny.. "Sir?" said Hermione abruptly. "I know you wanted to talk to Harry, but … well, we couldn't wait to find out what happened and …" Hermione paused, eyes scanning the room. "Harry, where's Ron?"

Harry swallowed. "In there," he said, nodding towards the infirmary door. "Madam Pomfrey's working on him now." Hermione made a rush towards the door, and Harry quickly grabbed her arm. "I think you should wait until she's done with him, Hermione," he said softly. "He doesn't look so good – you shouldn't really see him like that."

Hermione burst into tears. "I knew it! I knew it! Harry, what happened? Let go of me, now!"

Glaring at him, she struggled to pull her arm away.

"I think you should take his advice, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore softly, taking her other arm and leading her to a straight-backed chair in front of the desk. "Madam Pomfrey doesn't need distractions right now. Molly and Arthur will be here soon, and you can all go in together. Miss Weasley, are you all right?"

Ginny was very pale and wavering slightly on her feet. Harry rushed over to help her, but to his amazement she brushed him off and marched over to the desk. "I'm fine," she said, her brown eyes blazing. "Leave me alone."

Harry felt his heart sinking. She was absolutely furious with him. Glancing at her again, he flinched at the look of anger she shot him as she folded her arms and leaned against the desk.

"I'm sure you're right in the thick of this, Malfoy," she spat, colour rapidly returning to her face until she was flushing a bright red.

"Not by choice, Weasley," Malfoy retorted. "These two stupid buggers came along for the ride, whether I wanted them or not. Potter playing the hero, and your brother as the regular sidekick."

Still not looking at him, Ginny directed her next remark to Harry. "D'you mind explaining what you were doing with this … this prat? Huh? I thought you hated him!"

Starting to feel annoyed again, Harry glared at her. "Hate's a strong word, Ginny," he said testily. "I don't necessarily like him but I don't hate him. And anyway, he needed help or he was going to get himself killed. I've got enough deaths on my conscience, and I don't really want another one … even if it is Malfoy."

"Saint Potter," muttered Malfoy malevolently.

"That's right, Malfoy. Make me regret this even more, why don't you?" retorted Harry.

"ENOUGH!" thundered Dumbledore. "Honestly, how you two have managed to work together this far and not kill each other is beyond me. Harry, I think we should adjourn to my office so we can discuss what happened with Voldemort tonight."

"Oh, no," snapped Hermione, eyes bright with fury. "I want to hear this. I want to hear what's put Ron into whatever state he's in! Harry, you owe us an explanation too. I don't particularly like waking up in the middle of the night, with my mark burning and knowing that you're off somewhere doing God knows what! I'd like to know what you and Ron got yourself into tonight … we all do!"

She faltered slightly when Dumbledore looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Well… I think we have the right to know, don't you, sir?"

For a second, Dumbledore regarded her carefully. Then he nodded. "Yes, I suppose you do," he said. "All right, Harry – out with it."

Harry took a deep breath, and began to recount the events of the evening. Staring at a spot on the wall about six inches above Ginny's head, he told of the trip to Riddle House, finding Pettigrew, and the shocking discovery in the basement. He heard Ginny inhale sharply when he told them how Pettigrew had thrown them into the cellar room until Bellatrix Lestrange's arrival, and how they had been taken to Voldemort.

Harry risked a glance at Hermione, and saw tears pouring down her face as he described Ron's struggle with the Cruciatus Curse. He leaned over and took her hand.

"Ron was really brave," he said softly. "He tried to fight it, and he didn't scream – not once. I know how painful it is to have Crucio performed on you, and I'll tell you, he was amazing."

"But what I don't understand is what you did to Voldemort," interrupted Malfoy. "Why did he start bleeding? I don't get it …"

"Bleeding?" said Dumbledore sharply. "Where?"

"I didn't take a really good look, but from his eyes, nose, ears and mouth – I think," said Harry slowly. "It happened right after he snapped away from the Legilimency I was using on him."

"But why?" demanded Dumbledore. "What happened in there?"

"I don't know!" said Harry, frustrated and slamming his hand against the wall. "One minute, I was inside his head, seeing his memories, and the next …" He stumbled to a halt. "Surely not …"

He thought about it for a second, and then looked disbelievingly at Dumbledore. "The last thing I remember is feeling sorry for him," he whispered. "I saw a memory – a memory of his father rejecting him for being a wizard. He was so hurt, and angry, and alone … I know how that feels. I know what it's like, with no-one to care about whether you live or die – the Dursleys did that to me for years. So – I suppose, I felt sorry for him. And he started screaming in my head, and he pulled away, and when I looked again … he was bleeding on the floor."

Harry stumbled to a halt, and then stared around him. "But I don't see how that could have hurt him …"

"Oh, it would have been agony to him," said Dumbledore, leaning back in satisfaction. "Absolute agony. Harry, I told you once that the one thing Voldemort can never understand is love, remember?"

Harry nodded, and then shrugged in incomprehension. "So?"

"I was mistaken – it seems there are many emotions connected to love that he can't understand," said the Headmaster. "Such as sympathy, and forgiveness, and friendship. He sees these things as a weakness, but … linked as they are to love … I suspect they might be his downfall in the end."

Malfoy laughed. "Oh, yes," he said sarcastically. "I can just see it now. Harry will absolve Voldemort of all his sins, and he'll just … what, die?"

"Who knows?" said Dumbledore slowly, watching Harry carefully. "But it seems that the things that make us the most human, and decent, are the things that hurt him the most. It might be worth investigating this further, Harry."

"So how did you get back here, Harry?" said Ginny, and she still wasn't looking at him.

"Yeah – I'd like to know that too," said Malfoy eagerly. "The last thing I remember is being Stunned at the bottom of the staircase after Weasley fell, and then you woke me up here."

"Ron – fell?" whispered Hermione, ashen.

Harry nodded. "The Death Eaters saw what was happening to Voldemort, so they rushed around him and forgot about us," he said. "We ran for it and were halfway down the stairs when a tread gave way under Ron. He made a grab for the banister, but it was rotten too and it broke. He fell to the next floor."

He swallowed and closed his eyes, remembering the horrible feeling he'd had at that moment – that Ron was dead, and that he was responsible. Again. Taking a deep breath, Harry opened his eyes and continued.

"Pettigrew Stunned Malfoy, and was getting ready to do the same to me, when I reminded him of a little debt that he owes me," he said softly.

"What debt?" demanded Malfoy, eyes darting between Harry and the Headmaster.

"Harry saved Pettigrew's life once," said Dumbledore. "Didn't I once tell you that would come in handy, Harry?"

"Yeah – and it did. I told him the debt was cancelled if he created a Portkey to get us back here, and he was only too keen. I think he'd be a bit embarrassed if his boss found out about his debt, so he did it. And here we are."

As he spoke, there was a spluttering from the fireplace as the fire turned emerald green, and first Mrs Weasley, then Mr Weasley, stepped out of the fireplace.

"Where is he?" said Mrs Weasley urgently. "Where's my Ron?"

Dumbledore got to his feet. "Through there," he said gently. "Come – I'll take you to him."

He gently held her elbow as they rushed through the doorway, followed closely by Hermione.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out, relieved that his story had been told and that Dumbledore had a reasonable theory about what he'd done to Voldemort. He glanced at Ginny, who was standing at the door still pointedly ignoring him.

"Well then, I'm off," said Malfoy, getting to his feet. "See you later, Potter."

He strode to the door, and then turned.

"Oh, by the way," he said. "Thanks. But don't think I'll let you do something like this again – I reckon you get enough limelight as it is. Goes right to your swollen head."

"Yeah, yeah," said Harry impatiently, waving his hand at him. "Go on – get lost."

Once Malfoy was gone, Harry moved to Ginny's side. "Hey," he said softly, and tried to take her hand. But she pulled away, and for the first time, looked straight into his eyes, her own brimming with tears.

"Don't, Harry!" she said furiously. "You've got to stop doing this! I don't know if I can take it …"

"Take what?" he said urgently. "Ginny …"

She brushed impatiently at her eyes. "I know you think this is your destiny … to face and kill Voldemort. But what if it isn't you? What if it's someone else? Are you going to spend your life throwing yourself in front of him?

"Ginny, I have to," he said desperately. "The prophesy …"

"Oh, damn the prophesy!" Ginny spat. "It doesn't have to be real, Harry! Not if you don't want to make it real so badly you're prepared to get yourself killed to do it. But I can tell you this much – I don't know if I have the strength to be with you, to … put so much into our relationship, if you have a death wish. I don't know if I can be with you."

"Don't say that!" protested Harry, a lead stone of dread settling into his stomach. "Ginny, don't give up on me!"

"You've already given up on yourself, Harry," she said sadly.

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked into the ward to see her brother, leaving Harry with a jumbled mix of emotions, and terrified that he'd finally pushed the people he most cared about so far away with his irresponsible actions that he'd never get them back.