Part Eight

Harry had no time to duck as the first blow struck him across the cheek. He sucked in his breath as Marcus came at him again before he had a chance to blink, let alone draw his wand. It was Ron that came to his rescue, taking a punch to the stomach for his trouble.

Ron hissed in pain, bending over to protect his body from further assault. Marcus seemed to lose his drive as he realised he'd struck Ron, since he never meant to touch him in such a harsh manner. Marcus' quarrel was with Harry solely. The gorgeous redhead had come to Harry's defence, pushed his friend out of harms way and taken the blow himself.

It infuriated Marcus because he knew if it ever came down to that, Ron clearly would lay down his life for Harry. The idea that some muggle raised boy could inspire such blind devotion in his friends angered him as much as it impressed him. If only he had that type of loyalty from Ron; he would give him anything he desired.

He'd never genuinely had a friend, someone that wanted to be around him exclusively, although that was not the true nature of the relationship he sort from Ron. No, he knew he wanted much more than simple friendship from the moment he'd spotted that luscious red hair among the flock.

Marcus had never instilled anything but a tentative control over his followers and only because they feared his wrath should they have dared to displease him. What he truly desired was Ron's love but he wasn't stupid; he knew that was next to impossible. Even with the odds stacked against him he was not willing to give up without a war.

As Marcus felt the tip of a wand graze his neck in warning, he berated himself for letting his mind wander and Harry get the upper hand.

Stepping back, he glared dangerously at his competition and was a little surprised to see the answering challenge in Harry's eyes. However, his grin turned feral as he became aware of the slightest tremor in the wand pointed directly at his chest. Harry was afraid and his fear was like a powerful drug in Marcus' system.

"Another day… Potter" he mouthed, his eyes flickering over Harry's body before he disappeared.

Harry remained thunderstruck, long after Marcus had retreated to the shadows and out of Gryffindor tower. He jumped when Ron placed a hand on his shoulder. Breathing hard, he stuttered out an apology for being so on edge.

"Harry, what happened? What did he do to you?" Ron frowned, an arm still wrapped protectively over his belly.

Harry grimaced; stroking his fingers over his cheekbone at what he expected would be decent bruise later in the day. "Nothing…well except this shiner" he laughed half-heartedly.

Ron winced as he sympathised with the throbbing pain Harry must be feeling about now. "What was that about anyway?" He blurted out, annoyed that Marcus had taken off before he could have a go at him for attacking them.

Harry threw Ron a look, complete with arched eyebrow and pursed lips. "Guess?"

Ron coughed, a blush crawling up his neck. He quickly looked away, changing the subject, "Right…ahh, so ready to battle the house-elves for some late breakfast?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Ron wasn't going to be able to ignore 'the Talk' forever, but he let it go this time. His stomach had just growled savagely at the mere mention of food and he was in no condition for another fight today.

"Let's go."

Ron grinned, purposely forgetting about the conversation that had been evaded for the time being. Oh, he was very happy to live in ignorant bliss awhile longer.

"Alright then, I'm half starved. I can only hope Seamus didn't get there before us and eat everything. He's a bloody machine when it comes to good food." Ron muttered to himself.

Harry followed, an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He had such affection for his best friend. If Ron only knew what he was thinking about right now. Harry shook his head, so not the right moment.

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Closing his eyes, Harry rested for second as he waited for Ron to finally catch up. The redhead was dawdling along behind him, cheerfully nibbling on a Chocolate frog he had wheedled out of Neville. The poor boy didn't stand a chance when Ron practically tackled him in the common room after Marcus' attack. Neville's eyes had practically bugged out of their sockets as Ron threw himself at his feet and shamelessly begged him for a chocolaty treat.

If it had been him in Neville's place, he would have made Ron bark, roll over and a whole lot more before giving up any chocolate to that greedy sod. He didn't want to be reminded of how much he'd bitten his lip to stop himself from going through with some of the more pleasurable thoughts flickering through his mind in brilliant techno-colour.

Harry glanced back to be sure Ron was indeed following him and hadn't wandered off down a different corridor. He grinned as he caught sight of his friend gazing up at a painting of some pretty girl with blonde flowing locks and a billowing dress that occasionally blew up over her head. Harry shook his head at the slightly glazed look on Ron's face and wondered for the umpteenth time why he bothered pursuing someone who was so obviously fixated on the opposite sex.

Harry's mouth was suddenly dry as Ron had the audacity to stick out that tempting pink tongue and lick the entire stick of chocolate that slowly melted in his tight fist. He whimpered helplessly and turned away from that haunting sight, marching straight for the kitchens. Ron could bloody well catch up. He was not waiting for him to stop ogling that simpering bitch and wake up to what was really on offer. Well, not at this precise moment anyway.

He was still silently fuming as he shoved at the double doors of the main kitchen. Unfortunately, there was someone who had chosen just that instant to leave the very room Harry wanted so desperately to enter. Not even thinking, Harry began to struggle with the obstruction, placing his entire body weight against the gleaming white doors and thrusting his backside into the unrelenting wood. Growling, he stepped back and ran at the door. His shoulder connected with the surface and without warning it swung easily inwards. The momentum sent him skidding over the tile floor, arms flailing, legs not obeying his commands as he crashed into a marble topped preparation table. Diced vegetables rained down on his head as he collapsed bonelessly to the floor. Harry was unconscious and Draco Malfoy was quietly standing over yet another member of the Gryffindor trio.

It really wasn't his week.

Just then Ron hurtled through the double doors. Instantly, he caught sight of Harry's crumpled form splayed across the tiles. Seconds later his eyes connected with Draco's and they narrowed dangerously.

Before Draco could even reach for his wand, Ron had forced Draco into the corner, while using one arm he held the blonde firmly in place. The backs of Draco's legs pressed achingly into what he guessed was some kind of rubbish bin tucked against the only bare wall in the entire room.

"What did you do to him Malfoy?" Ron seethed through clenched teeth.

For a second Draco forgot that he was supposed to be stone and the tiniest flicker of fear ghosted across his face. He gulped at the proximity of his enemy and it took him more than a few seconds before the mask of disdain could be successfully administered. It was all a perfect lie for he still felt the fear crawl disgustingly over his skin, especially as Ron inched closer and the weight of his body drove him further into the wall behind him.

"I never touched your precious Potter. It was him that threw himself like a maniac at the door and ended up cracking his head on the table."

Ron wasn't convinced and if Draco had been thinking, he never would have opened his big mouth. But, of course, when confronted with a Weasley he had never learnt to keep well alone.

"It's a pity, really, that he still breathes. I kind of like him in this position. At least he would be good for something, even if it was as my doormat…," the blonde of course didn't get to say anything further as Ron had punched him viciously on the side of the mouth. With a mouth full of blood, he crumpled uselessly to the floor; the rubbish bin overturning and dribbling to his absolute horror the remainder of his untouched breakfast all over his immaculately pressed robes.

Harry stirred and Malfoy was forgotten as Ron scrambled to his best friend's side.

"Harry, you alright?"

Harry scrunched up his face in pain as he tried in vain to sit upright. "No. Ron. I'd have to say I'm not alright." Harry managed to breathe through the agony throbbing in his brain as he attempted to right himself.

Ron winced at the stupidity of his question as he struggled to help Harry, but not jostle him too much in the process. Harry grinned lopsidedly at Ron's bumbling attempt at helping him. Despite the pain that was making him nauseous, it always felt really good to have Ron nearby. He was a pervert to the end, even with blood oozing down his face. He was still thinking of how he'd dearly love to throw a leg over his best friend and snog him senseless.

"Oh…blood," Harry murmured before fainting in Ron's lap.

"Shit," Ron stared down at Harry's unconscious body. "Oh god, what do I do?"

Draco slid over to his side, wiping his soiled robes hastily with the corner of a clean tablecloth. "You really are hopeless aren't you?"

Ron looked blankly at him, mouth gaping as he struggled to say… anything.

Draco scowled. "Don't answer that." Reaching into his robes, he withdrew his wand. Ron's eyes grew large with alarm. Unwittingly, he hugged Harry's comatose body to him, as if he could protect his friend from Draco's attack.

"Are you insane, you'll only hurt him more if you grab him like that?" Draco shouted, prying Ron's death like grip from around Harry's back. "Weasley! Snap out of it! You're killing him."

Draco abruptly slapped Ron sharply across the face. Ron shook his head as the haze disappeared from his mind. He blinked, his arms loosening from around his best friend's waist. Draco frowned at the confused redhead. Slowly he inched forward, gathering Harry in his arms. His eyes never leaving Ron as his fingers gently roamed over Harry's skull feeling for the telltale bumps that indicated a concussion.

Draco suddenly caught movement from the corner of his eye; the kitchen door was swinging to and fro. He could have sworn he saw no one in the room. Ron too had turned towards the door; they both looked back at each other but said nothing.

Draco's thoughts returned to the person that he cradled gently in his arms. He grimaced as his fingers met with a sticky substance that could only mean blood. Then he felt it, the lump the size of a large snitch, above his right temple. It wasn't a good sign.

"We have to get him to Madame Pomfrey right now"

"Yes, of course…lets go" Ron didn't argue. He had no idea why Malfoy was caring for Harry and he wasn't sure he wanted to know either. All he knew was that he had been squeezing Harry so tightly and Draco had saved him. He had been aware of how much he had been hurting Harry, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Ron had felt like a puppet where someone else had control of his strings.

He never, ever thought he'd say it but he was so glad Draco had been there to snap him out of whatever had come over him. He was scared, he'd nearly killed his best friend and it was an enemy that had rescued him in the end.

Ron watched silently as the Slytherin laid Harry's unconscious body on the cool tiles. He was ashamed that Draco had somehow seen some weakness in him, but was also grateful for his presence. Draco continued to throw concerned looks Ron's way as he levitated Harry's body and maneuvered him out the door and into the corridor. A sullen redhead followed along behind him, desperately trying to figure out just what had gone wrong.