Author's Note: (Yes of course you're forgiven, and yes, I'll drop the spinach thing eventually (though the death throes could be painful)) Anyway, I hope nobody kills me for my poor dialogue skills. Characters talking really can't be avoided but sometimes I really wish that it could be. Anyway, once again, hope you enjoy and Pleeeeeeaaaaaase review *bats eyelashes* also, for those of you who liked Dangerous Games, considering starting a sequel. Not sure if it will work out yet but....... Ok, here's chap. twelve.
chapter 12: Confrontation - uncovering the anger
"So, Ron, who's your girlfriend?"
Ron choked on his spinach. Having missed breakfast for sleeping in too late, he had been intent on packing away as much lunch as possible and the question had come at a particularly inopportune time. A good three minutes of sputtered coughing and a glass of pumpkin juice later, he finally had his breath back well enough to answer.
"Could you repeat the question," he wheezed.
Hermione put her hands palm down on the table, leaned forward intently and repeated, "Who Is Your Girlfriend, Ron?" She didn't even look a little bit sorry for causing the coughing fit earlier, just very determined. Ron, however, looked baffled. Harry looked apologetic but interested and Neville asked them to please pass the yams.
"Hermione, I don't have a girlfriend." Ron started dragging his fork around in the rest of his spinach but then glanced down, grimaced and set the plate aside.
"Don't evade the question, Ron. I know you have a girlfriend." Hermione was becoming stubborn in her desperation to get this issue resolved.
"I'm not evading, Hermione," Ron nearly yelled in exasperation. "I Do Not Have A Girlfriend."
"He doesn't have a girlfriend." Ginny passed the yams to Neville.
"You stay out of this, Ginny," Ron growled, glaring at his sister.
Ginny gave him an innocent look before glancing down at the watch she had gotten for her last birthday. "Well, well, I really must be going." Ginny rose and sauntered from the table, turning at the doors to give her brother a wink. Ron scowled and Hermione book marked Ginny as a possible source to follow up on later. Harry was silent and wide eyed, having just noticed Ginny's saunter.
"Okay." Hermione turned back to their conversation with, if possible, even greater intensity. "So," she began to shake her finger at Ron, "if you don't have a girlfriend, then why are you eating spinach all the time, and why do you constantly look like you're about to pass out from exhaustion?"
Ron appeared to be grinding his teeth. "And how does this add up to me having a girlfriend?"
Hermione blushed and looked down. "Seamus said wizards use spinach to increase their stamina," she finally muttered under her breath.
Ron blinked, then snorted. "That's an old wives tale, Hermione. I didn't expect you to believe in those."
Harry, apparently fed up at this point, slammed his fist down on the table, causing everyone at the table to start. "Then why do you eat that bloody stuff and what the bloody hell are you keeping from us?" He barely managed to keep himself from yelling. Even so, Ron and Hermione both froze with shock at his tone.
Slowly, though, Ron's face flushed a deep red and when he finally spoke his voice was harsh with anger. "None of your fucking business." He rose swiftly, pushing away his plate with a rough jerk of his hand, and began stalking from the table. Harry rose to follow him. When he reached Ron he grabbed him roughly by the arm, spinning Ron to face him.
"Don't walk away from us, Ron. What are you keeping from us? Aren't we your friends? We want to know if something is going on with you."
Ron grit his teeth, refusing to look Harry in the eye. "Let me go, Harry. I have to go."
"Where do you have to go?" Harry was practically spitting with anger. "It's bloody Saturday."
"Where do I go every day after lunch, Harry?" Ron still wasn't looking at Harry. "In case you've forgotten, I've got detention with Malfoy till Hell freezes over."
"On the weekend?!" Harry's incredulity briefly over-rode his anger.
"Yes, on the weekend, Harry!" Ron finally turned to look at Harry and the anger in his eyes caused Harry to step back a pace. "Not everybody get's a holiday, Harry! Not everybody get's a break! Some of us have more important things to do!" With that Ron turned and stormed through the doors.
Harry, stunned by Ron's outburst, just stood in the entryway frozen until Hermione came up behind him. "What did you say to him, Harry?"
Harry just shook his head. "He said he has to go to his detention now."
Hermione sighed. This was turning out to be much more complicated than she felt like she was prepared to handle right now.
Ron flopped down on the couch in Snape's spare office and shut his eyes, trying to block out the sight of those all too familiar walls that every day were looking more and more like the walls of a prison. 'My jail cell,' Ron thought to himself morosely, 'how I hate thy peeling wallpaper.'
He felt the couch sag to his right and knew that Draco had joined him. Oh, joy. Maybe if he just kept his eyes shut he would become invisible and wouldn't have to deal with the git. This tactic was proven to be ultimately flawed however, when he felt what seemed to be the end of a wand poke into his shoulder repeatedly and steadily. After about ten pokes he could take no more and, with a muttered oath he was thankful his mother wasn't there to hear, flung down the hand he had had covering his eyes and turned to glare at Malfoy.
Malfoy was glaring back. "This isn't a game, you know, Weasley," he hissed.
"Oh, because you're acting so mature."
Draco acted as if he hadn't heard that and continued, "You can't just leave off and pretend like I don't exist whenever you get tired."
Ron blew up. "You think I don't know that!?" he yelled. "You think I haven't realized that this is my life, FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. I bloody HATE it, but no matter what sort of snide comments YOU might chose to make, I'm not attached at the hip with Harry, I stuck with YOU!?" At this point a cold voice floated menacingly through the doorway, protesting the noise. Ron was so mad at the moment, however, that without a second thought he jabbed his wand angrily into the air yelling, "Silencio." If he bloody well wanted to yell he would bloody yell, DAMNIT! Draco had, once again, reverted to his impassive sneer but he at least appeared to be paying attention. "And don't you suggest for one MINUTE that I don't know my duty, that I won't do my part. I know what's important and what's not, but never think that I'm not mad as all hell that I'm going to have to follow a fucking Malfoy around for the rest of my fucking life."
"Yeah, however long that is." Draco muttered this quietly under his breath but Ron, nevertheless, heard him.
"What was that, Malfoy?! Did you just threaten me?!"
For a second Draco glanced away, a strange look on his face, but then he looked back at Ron and anger flashed in his eyes to more than equal the rage that Ron felt burning within himself. "Oh my, you're such the victim, aren't you Weasley," he hissed, his face pale, his lips forming the words but stiffly. "Your lot is life is SO hard. Well how do you think I feel?!" This last was spat with such venom that Ron blinked, though his anger didn't falter for a second. "Made to be dependant on a piece of filth like you? Sucking your blood like some filthy parasite living off of the scum of the Earth? Knowing that I'll never be free if it?" At this point Draco was snarling in his fury and Ron had his jaw clenched so hard in an effort to keep himself from strangling the git that he felt a headache coming on. He wasn't prepared, however, for Draco's next words and had to make a concerted effort to keep the shock from showing on his face. "I'd trade places with you any day, Weasley. At least you've got a choice."
For a moment Ron was at a loss for words. For a moment he felt sympathy for Malfoy crowding to the forefront. Sympathy for him, trapped as they both were in a situation seemingly out of control, stuck with a body he could no longer completely trust. And Ron remembered that feeling of protectiveness that had come over him in the hospital, that feeling of responsibility and care.
Only for a moment though. A choice?! Ron's anger came boiling back. "What Choice?! To let OTHERS die? To sacrifice them in my place? I may be a poor, backwards git with too many brothers and not enough fashion sense but I have a sense of honor, damnit! I have a conscience!"
"And I suppose you don't think I have a conscience, do you, Weasley?" Malfoy looked back at him coldly. "You think I'm just an evil bastard without honor who is just out to do everyone the most harm possible because that's just how I have fun! Death, Destruction, Mayhem. That's Me!" Malfoy's voice was beginning to develop an edge and he was no longer nearly as composed as he had been earlier. "Well let me tell you something, Mr. I'm-Perfect-'Cause-I'm-Poor. I take back what I said earlier. I DO have a choice, one that would rid me of your bloody presence for the rest of my bloody life. I could have just killed you three days ago. I could have killed you three days ago and now I'd be free. And to be honest, there's a big part of me that really wishes that I had."
chapter 12: Confrontation - uncovering the anger
"So, Ron, who's your girlfriend?"
Ron choked on his spinach. Having missed breakfast for sleeping in too late, he had been intent on packing away as much lunch as possible and the question had come at a particularly inopportune time. A good three minutes of sputtered coughing and a glass of pumpkin juice later, he finally had his breath back well enough to answer.
"Could you repeat the question," he wheezed.
Hermione put her hands palm down on the table, leaned forward intently and repeated, "Who Is Your Girlfriend, Ron?" She didn't even look a little bit sorry for causing the coughing fit earlier, just very determined. Ron, however, looked baffled. Harry looked apologetic but interested and Neville asked them to please pass the yams.
"Hermione, I don't have a girlfriend." Ron started dragging his fork around in the rest of his spinach but then glanced down, grimaced and set the plate aside.
"Don't evade the question, Ron. I know you have a girlfriend." Hermione was becoming stubborn in her desperation to get this issue resolved.
"I'm not evading, Hermione," Ron nearly yelled in exasperation. "I Do Not Have A Girlfriend."
"He doesn't have a girlfriend." Ginny passed the yams to Neville.
"You stay out of this, Ginny," Ron growled, glaring at his sister.
Ginny gave him an innocent look before glancing down at the watch she had gotten for her last birthday. "Well, well, I really must be going." Ginny rose and sauntered from the table, turning at the doors to give her brother a wink. Ron scowled and Hermione book marked Ginny as a possible source to follow up on later. Harry was silent and wide eyed, having just noticed Ginny's saunter.
"Okay." Hermione turned back to their conversation with, if possible, even greater intensity. "So," she began to shake her finger at Ron, "if you don't have a girlfriend, then why are you eating spinach all the time, and why do you constantly look like you're about to pass out from exhaustion?"
Ron appeared to be grinding his teeth. "And how does this add up to me having a girlfriend?"
Hermione blushed and looked down. "Seamus said wizards use spinach to increase their stamina," she finally muttered under her breath.
Ron blinked, then snorted. "That's an old wives tale, Hermione. I didn't expect you to believe in those."
Harry, apparently fed up at this point, slammed his fist down on the table, causing everyone at the table to start. "Then why do you eat that bloody stuff and what the bloody hell are you keeping from us?" He barely managed to keep himself from yelling. Even so, Ron and Hermione both froze with shock at his tone.
Slowly, though, Ron's face flushed a deep red and when he finally spoke his voice was harsh with anger. "None of your fucking business." He rose swiftly, pushing away his plate with a rough jerk of his hand, and began stalking from the table. Harry rose to follow him. When he reached Ron he grabbed him roughly by the arm, spinning Ron to face him.
"Don't walk away from us, Ron. What are you keeping from us? Aren't we your friends? We want to know if something is going on with you."
Ron grit his teeth, refusing to look Harry in the eye. "Let me go, Harry. I have to go."
"Where do you have to go?" Harry was practically spitting with anger. "It's bloody Saturday."
"Where do I go every day after lunch, Harry?" Ron still wasn't looking at Harry. "In case you've forgotten, I've got detention with Malfoy till Hell freezes over."
"On the weekend?!" Harry's incredulity briefly over-rode his anger.
"Yes, on the weekend, Harry!" Ron finally turned to look at Harry and the anger in his eyes caused Harry to step back a pace. "Not everybody get's a holiday, Harry! Not everybody get's a break! Some of us have more important things to do!" With that Ron turned and stormed through the doors.
Harry, stunned by Ron's outburst, just stood in the entryway frozen until Hermione came up behind him. "What did you say to him, Harry?"
Harry just shook his head. "He said he has to go to his detention now."
Hermione sighed. This was turning out to be much more complicated than she felt like she was prepared to handle right now.
Ron flopped down on the couch in Snape's spare office and shut his eyes, trying to block out the sight of those all too familiar walls that every day were looking more and more like the walls of a prison. 'My jail cell,' Ron thought to himself morosely, 'how I hate thy peeling wallpaper.'
He felt the couch sag to his right and knew that Draco had joined him. Oh, joy. Maybe if he just kept his eyes shut he would become invisible and wouldn't have to deal with the git. This tactic was proven to be ultimately flawed however, when he felt what seemed to be the end of a wand poke into his shoulder repeatedly and steadily. After about ten pokes he could take no more and, with a muttered oath he was thankful his mother wasn't there to hear, flung down the hand he had had covering his eyes and turned to glare at Malfoy.
Malfoy was glaring back. "This isn't a game, you know, Weasley," he hissed.
"Oh, because you're acting so mature."
Draco acted as if he hadn't heard that and continued, "You can't just leave off and pretend like I don't exist whenever you get tired."
Ron blew up. "You think I don't know that!?" he yelled. "You think I haven't realized that this is my life, FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. I bloody HATE it, but no matter what sort of snide comments YOU might chose to make, I'm not attached at the hip with Harry, I stuck with YOU!?" At this point a cold voice floated menacingly through the doorway, protesting the noise. Ron was so mad at the moment, however, that without a second thought he jabbed his wand angrily into the air yelling, "Silencio." If he bloody well wanted to yell he would bloody yell, DAMNIT! Draco had, once again, reverted to his impassive sneer but he at least appeared to be paying attention. "And don't you suggest for one MINUTE that I don't know my duty, that I won't do my part. I know what's important and what's not, but never think that I'm not mad as all hell that I'm going to have to follow a fucking Malfoy around for the rest of my fucking life."
"Yeah, however long that is." Draco muttered this quietly under his breath but Ron, nevertheless, heard him.
"What was that, Malfoy?! Did you just threaten me?!"
For a second Draco glanced away, a strange look on his face, but then he looked back at Ron and anger flashed in his eyes to more than equal the rage that Ron felt burning within himself. "Oh my, you're such the victim, aren't you Weasley," he hissed, his face pale, his lips forming the words but stiffly. "Your lot is life is SO hard. Well how do you think I feel?!" This last was spat with such venom that Ron blinked, though his anger didn't falter for a second. "Made to be dependant on a piece of filth like you? Sucking your blood like some filthy parasite living off of the scum of the Earth? Knowing that I'll never be free if it?" At this point Draco was snarling in his fury and Ron had his jaw clenched so hard in an effort to keep himself from strangling the git that he felt a headache coming on. He wasn't prepared, however, for Draco's next words and had to make a concerted effort to keep the shock from showing on his face. "I'd trade places with you any day, Weasley. At least you've got a choice."
For a moment Ron was at a loss for words. For a moment he felt sympathy for Malfoy crowding to the forefront. Sympathy for him, trapped as they both were in a situation seemingly out of control, stuck with a body he could no longer completely trust. And Ron remembered that feeling of protectiveness that had come over him in the hospital, that feeling of responsibility and care.
Only for a moment though. A choice?! Ron's anger came boiling back. "What Choice?! To let OTHERS die? To sacrifice them in my place? I may be a poor, backwards git with too many brothers and not enough fashion sense but I have a sense of honor, damnit! I have a conscience!"
"And I suppose you don't think I have a conscience, do you, Weasley?" Malfoy looked back at him coldly. "You think I'm just an evil bastard without honor who is just out to do everyone the most harm possible because that's just how I have fun! Death, Destruction, Mayhem. That's Me!" Malfoy's voice was beginning to develop an edge and he was no longer nearly as composed as he had been earlier. "Well let me tell you something, Mr. I'm-Perfect-'Cause-I'm-Poor. I take back what I said earlier. I DO have a choice, one that would rid me of your bloody presence for the rest of my bloody life. I could have just killed you three days ago. I could have killed you three days ago and now I'd be free. And to be honest, there's a big part of me that really wishes that I had."
