Part Nine

Malfoy moved along the corridors with purpose, ignoring the curious looks of the other students as he passed by. His fingers wrapped around the wand with a confidence Ron doubted many of his peers could duplicate. Draco's manner was faultless as he effortlessly guided the unconscious Harry along the seemingly endless passageways, Ron tagged along behind in somewhat of a stupor.

He'd switched off to the incessant whispering that seemed to be closing in around him. The closer they got to the hospital wing, the louder it became, the more Ron shrunk into the silent recesses of own world. In his head there was only stillness and peace, on the outside a whispering frenzy that drilled into his bones with its intensity.

'Your fault if he dies Weasley...you are the guilty one... betrayed your best friend... only you... go hide... no, run... go on run Weasley...'

And he dearly wanted to do just that, instead he chose to trail after his bitter enemy without a word. Ron was drawn further inward trying to fathom why he would hurt his best friend, or should he say, why someone else would use him to harm Harry.

He was confused. Not knowing if he was to blame or if there was someone that hated him so much to frame him. Had he deep down, somehow, wanted this to happen? Was he subconsciously yearning for Harry's death?

No. Ron refused to believe it. Yet his memories betrayed that fact, the evidence taunted him with the brutal facts. He was holding Harry to him, Ron remembered that. He had been gripping on to him fiercely, cutting off his oxygen, smothering Harry, yet he hadn't stopped, even when Malfoy had been screaming at him.

Ron shook his head maddeningly. He had not wanted him dead. Could never want for such a thing, he had no reason too.

Okay, yes. They had fought in the past, but who hasn't? That did not mean...

Never! Not ever had he wished his most trusted friend any actual harm. He loved Harry and no matter who tried to twist his mind into making him believe otherwise, he could never kill him. Damn them to hell for trying. To cut out ones own heart would have been more preferable. His soul was as loyal to Harry as the first day they met. No one used him as a convenient pawn against anyone, let alone his dearest friend.

Inside his spirit raged and when he eventually exhausted all thought on the matter, Ron found that he was quite lost. He had apparently misplaced his bearings and in doing so was hopelessly adrift.

Panicking, Ron sped up so as not to get left behind. Flying around the corner he came to an abrupt halt at the mirage before him. Malfoy was seemingly having a civil conversation with Dobby. Ron expected as he got nearer to the two that he'd find he was mistaken and that Malfoy was indeed threatening the house-elf in that smug manner that made you want to smack him in the head. But as he inched closer, their conversation became easier to eavesdrop on and that's when Ron realised it was quite the opposite.

"...you know I couldn't possibly go back there," Malfoy whispered.

Dobby nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, sir...Dobby knows it is very difficult sir, but you must be careful. It has been told to me... by the others at the manor, sir... that he will come for you, he will find a way..."

"I know Dobby...I knew once he found out, he would take me away from here."

"What will you do, sir? If I can help, you are only to ask, Master Draco."

Ron watched in stunned fascination as Draco genuinely smiled at the oddly attired creature. Not a nasty smirk, but an honest expression that spoke volumes of his gratitude for such a gesture. Ron held his breath as Malfoy reached out and grasped the house-elves bony arm, giving it a quick squeeze before noticing that he had a rapt audience of one.

Draco quickly dropped Dobby's arm. Backing up, he scowled at the intrusion.

"About time you showed up Weasley. Shall we be going then?" Not waiting to see if Ron was following him, Draco marched off down the hallway with Harry at his side.

"But..."

Ron watched as Dobby fled in the opposite direction. He turned to see Draco about to vanish around the next corner.

"Damn" he cursed, ditching the idea of interrogating Dobby on Draco's strange behaviour for another time.

"Hey! Malfoy...!" Ron shouted, dodging a group of third year students who twittered nervously as he jogged past. Although he really needed to talk to Draco, it couldn't hurt to stop for just a moment. Ron turned and winked cheekily at the young girls. They giggled, blushing as they huddled together so obviously whispering about him. They practically swooned at the attention he was lavishing upon them; Ron couldn't help but blow an overly dramatic kiss in their direction before turning to catch up with Malfoy.

Ron was still grinning as he emerged around the corner to an infuriated Slytherin. Eyes flashed dangerously, lips drawn in a taut line, arms crossed severely over his chest, while his foot tapped incessantly with annoyance.

"You think this is funny...Weasley? Your best friend lays possibly dying and you're flirting!" Draco seethed at Ron's outrageous behaviour. He had no idea why it bothered him but turning back to see the redhead strutting for a bunch of Hufflepuff nobodies made him madder than hell. At least Ron had the foresight to look guilty about the whole thing.

"I..."

"Yes, Weasley...?" Draco interrupted. Maybe he was wrong, Ron seemed like he was going to try and wheedle his way out this predicament after all.

Ron knew when he was cornered. Malfoy may be a lot of things, but in this case a liar was not one of them. For just one stupid moment he'd forgotten that his best friend was unconscious. He'd been easily distracted by some pretty girls in his path, turned his back on Harry for just a second, but that was all it took for him to turn into the lowest scum this side of Britain. Some kind of best friend he turned out to be. If Ron was brutally honest with himself he knew that he hadn't been thinking about Harry at all a few minutes ago.

Draco watched with extreme discomfort as the colour, the sense of mischief that had touched Ron's complexion, vanish as quickly as it had appeared, only to be replaced with the sombre reminder that it was his fault that Harry lay immobile under his outstretched hand.

It should have made him feel darn good to have Weasley squished under the heel of his boot, but for some reason it did not. It wasn't a pleasant victory to have ones enemy effectively muzzled when he had done nothing to deserve such treatment.

We all slip, even if only for the briefest of moments. For some of us the fall is much greater.

Harry had been a target in that room, Weasley and himself the pawns. Someone else had control and whatever the game was, Draco knew that they had only just begun to play their hand.

The uncomfortable silence was too much for Draco to endure, he was so used to them fighting, be it verbal or physical, but he was not so used to this unending quiet. All was most definitely not normal if they weren't at each other's throats.

"Alright then, so you have nothing useful to add so let's move on shall we?" It wasn't a question that Draco expected an answer from. The fact that he and Weasley were not hexing each other at fifty paces seemed to be drawing quite a crowd and that in itself was enough for him to want to get the hell out of there.

Ron fell into line with Draco, each on either side of Harry, they moved as one down the last flight of stairs with no further disruptions.

"What's going on between you and Dobby?" Ron asked as they neared the hospital.

Draco turned to glare at the redhead, "I hope you are not suggesting...?"

Ron sighed, rolling his eyes. "Oh please, don't even try to wiggle out an answer Malfoy. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Malfoy grinned smugly at Ron "I do indeed." He paused as if mulling over his next words. "It's a great pity then that we aren't confidants, so that I may share all my dastardly deeds with you, Weasel," the smile dropping from his face. "Instead since you are my archenemy, I'm sure you won't mind if I tell you politely to... butt out."

Ron turned away from the boy, he knew Malfoy would never actually tell him; still it had been worth a try. Draco ignored the involuntary growl that came from his companion. Instead, he used Harry's unconscious body to push through the hospital wings doors. Whatever might have been further said on the subject was swallowed up by the always- efficient Madam Pomfrey, who seized upon the three as they entered her domain.

Draco was told in no uncertain terms that he was to run along to Professor Dumbledore's office and inform him of Harry Potter's condition. "Smartly Mr Malfoy. This is of great urgency," she repeated testily after Draco failed to move as quickly as she would've liked.

"So the great and noble Potter will live then?" Draco sneered at the still unmoving figure of Harry Potter now swathed in cotton sheets and tucked into the nearest bed.

Ron snorted at the expression on Malfoy's face, only now did he recognize the falseness of his words. For it had been Draco that had taken him to the hospital and Draco that saved the boy he claimed to despise.

Madam Pomfrey instead appeared rather peeved that a mere student would dare question her exceptional credentials in administering to the unwell.

"Mr Malfoy, I would appreciate if you did not hover over my patient so..."

Ron snickered.

Draco made a point of ignoring him. Of course that was met with more laughs at his expense.

Madame Pomfrey continued as if nothing was going on "I 'am still waiting Mr Malfoy. Do I really have to send Mr Weasley in your stead?"

Draco did indeed think about that for a moment, but then decided it was definitely time for him to leave anyhow.

"I'm going," he drawled. Arching one perfect eyebrow at Ron, as if to say 'you owe me now Weasley and I'll be back to collect'. He flicked distractedly at one lone strand of hair that clung defyingly to his cheek. Shooting Ron one last challenging glare, he turned and sauntered out of the room.

Ron watched him go before his attention switched to Madame Pomfrey who was busily checking Harry's temperature with the back of her hand. Smiling to herself, she ignored him as she tottered back to her office to write up her case notes.

Sighing heavily, Ron flopped down on the bed next to Harry's and stared at his friend's chest, mesmerised by the steady rise and fall, comforted in the knowledge that the school nurse had everything under control.

So it was quite a surprise a short time later, to open his eyes and find that in fact, despite his worrying he had still managed to take a nap. He blinked, only to be aware that Harry was awake and grinning at him as he nibbled on some buttered toast.

"You're finally conscious. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to be coherent, you have been babbling on about, I don't know what for hours now..." Harry jabbered, brushing stray crumbs onto the floor with a flick of his wrist.

"Hours...?"

Harry nodded, fluffing the pillow behind his back before settling comfortably in the soft, warm folds.

"Are you okay Harry?" Ron asked in a small voice.

Harry tilted his head and frowned at the tone of his friend's voice.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Harry asked, confused by such question.

"You don't know?" Ron squeaked. He hadn't been prepared for Harry having no memory of what happened.

"No! What's going on? I remember crashing through the door into the kitchen. Just thought I got knocked out and you levitated me here..." Harry frowned, immediately flustered. "There's something else isn't there...? I remember Malfoy was there, did he do..."

"No!" Ron blurted out. "I mean yes... he was there, but no, he didn't do anything to you, except, well, save you... from me"

"What?" Harry breathed; a stabbing pain on the side of his head was making it bloody difficult to concentrate on what Ron was saying. He must have heard wrong.

Ron could barely get the words out of his mouth. "I don't remember much, I think there was a spell. All I remember is squeezing you hard and you were struggling to breathe and Malfoy hit me to stop me from killing you."

Harry unwittingly shrank back from Ron's presence. He blinked furiously, his eyes huge as he tried to comprehend just what his best friend was trying to tell him.

"What are you saying Ron? I don't understand." A thread of panic affecting the tone of Harry's voice.

Ron ducked his head, his thumb desperately swiping away the tears that had already begun to fall.

"I don't know..." He wrung his hands, sobbing now; pleading for the fear he saw in his friends eyes to just disappear. Please.

A determined look fell over Harry's face and he immediately straightened his back against the headboard. "Tell me everything." His tone brooked no argument.

Ron swallowed hard, rubbing his fists angrily into his eyes to obliterate the tears before looking Harry in the eye.

"I ran into the kitchen when I heard the crash. You were on the floor with blood running down your face and Malfoy standing so suspiciously over you. I attacked him...and then you came too... that's when things get fuzzy."

Ron wiped his sweaty palms on his robes before hastily dragging a hand through his messy locks. "Malfoy, he slapped me and whatever, held me to you, made me hurt you...just wasn't there anymore. He was there, gaping accusingly at me, the enemy, yours, and mine," his anger reaching a crescendo as he recounted every hellish moment. "It was Draco Malfoy that cared for you while I stood there uselessly. He brought you here, not me, it should've been me." Ron whispered, shrugging helplessly, his voice breaking to his utter disgust at his behaviour. "I did nothing, nothing at all but follow him here."

Harry was staring at the faint pattern of leaves that were impregnated into his blanket, as if somehow that could decode everything that Ron was telling him.

"Ron..." he finally ventured.

"Oh god Harry. I don't know why I did it..." Ron keened; his head slumped forward against his chest.

Harry broke at the absolute despair that shook his best friend's body so violently. He reached out toward him, wanting to touch.

"Ron...? Please don't."