Updated: 7-3-04

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Author's Note: Ok, I'm SO sorry it's taken me so long to update. My attention has been divided my a million different things lately and this just got lost in the shuffle. In any case. Thank you thank you to my reviewers. You mean so much to me. This chapter isn't quite so weird as the last one. I hope you like it in any event.

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Chapter 45: MASTICATION - battling friendships

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"I'm on to you, Malfoy."

Draco paused on his way down one of the corridors that lead into to the dungeons. Turning to look back over his shoulder, he curled his lip in a bitter sneer. "Oh, are you, Potter? What am I up to this time?"

Harry ripped the invisibility cloak aside and strode angrily toward the Slytherin. "Don't play dumb with me," he snarled. "I know what you've been up to; I've seen what you've done. It's sickening."

Draco sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Is it? Well, I know what you think you saw, and I will agree that it is monstrous." He added a twist of his lips and a gruesome leer to the last statement, though internally he was trying his hardest to block out the images of what Ginny had forced Ron to do, of the way her body had been so mutilated.

"So you will admit to it." Harry stepped aggressively forward and Draco inwardly clenched his teeth at the display. Potter was correct in assuming that the incident with Zabini was indicative of a threat, but when The-Boy-Who-Was-Still-Around got worked up about something he could become quite aggravating, not to mention, dangerously meddlesome.

Draco refused to back up at Harry's advance, however. "I admit no such thing, and you would be well advised to forget any plans of recognizance or revenge you may have concerning me. They're a waste of my time." He knew that this probably wasn't the most effective way to get Potter off his (and Ron's) back, but right now it was the only way he knew of how to deal with the annoying git.

"What, can't be bothered to have someone stand up to you, Malfoy? Mustn't be checked in doing whatever the bloody hell you want, no matter who you hurt? Think we'll all just stand by and watch?"

"That's right." Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Apparently sarcasm was completely lost on the boy wonder. He briefly considered stupefying Potter and leaving him for Filch to find, but decided that that really would only add fuel to his fire, not that it needed it.

Besides, yep, there was Potter's wand, at the ready, looking like Potter was preparing to stab him with it. Instead of stabbing him, though, Harry shoved against his shoulder, causing him to stumble backward. He hissed when the back of his head thumped against the wall, but otherwise maintained his iron sneer.

"I know you, Malfoy," Harry growled into Draco's face. "You're a coward, and a pathetic excuse for humanity, just like your father. You're doing this because you think your pureblood heritage means you can get away with murder, but really it's just another way of trying to convince yourself that you're better than everyone else when you know you're not. Not on my watch. Not on my watch will I let you hurt him."

"What? You think you can protect him, Potter?" Draco shoved the boy out of his face and stepped smoothly away from the wall. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You think you know evil because you killed Voldemort?" He laughed bitterly. "Well, good for you. You managed to destroy the face of your personal demon." Draco squeezed his eyes shut briefly, trying to reign in his anger. This was supposed to be Ron's friend, and here he was trying to dispense vigilante justice without first having any clue about what the fuck was going on. When he opened his eyes again, Draco willed that they would burn into Potter's soul, that they leave a mark. "You've fought your battles. This isn't one of them. Stop before you end up hurting someone. Learn how to be a real friend."

Harry snarled, ugly in his rage, and raised his wand threateningly. "Who are you to lecture me on friendship, Malfoy? You and your kind are the original back-stabbers. A snake has more friends than you, and loyalty is completely beyond your reach."

Draco was about to say something about how back-stabbing was an essential survival skill that Potter had obviously perfected, but was interrupted by the cold voice of his head-of-house. "You will lower your wand immediately, Mr. Potter, before I deduct 60 points from Gryffindor."

Harry sputtered and snarled as Snape came up behind him and plucked the wand from his fingers, clearly catching himself just short of cursing the Professor into the nearest grave. In the end all he managed to get out was, "Not to be trusted."

"I realize that you're concerned, Mr. Potter, however I have reason to believe that Mr. Malfoy was in no way involved with the attack last night." Harry just continued to scowl. "Believe that or not as you wish," Snape went on, handing the wand back to Harry, "but either way you'd best be on your way." Draco allowed a smug smile to settle on his lips, just because he knew how the other boy would hate it. He was pleased to see the stiffening of Potter's shoulders before he whirled and stalked off down the hall.

"You were on your way to my offices, I presume." Draco turned to see that Professor Snape was looking down at him, a disapproving tilt to his eyebrow. He allowed his smirk to relax into a more neutral expression.

"Yes, Sir," he said, as Snape turned and started off, black robes swirling.

"You heard what happened to Zabini?" Snape didn't deign to look back.

"Weasley told me something about it. Will he be alright?"

"Yes." Snape's voice was grim but his stride continued unrelenting down the hall. "Though it will be quite some time before he is able to leave his bed." Snape paused in the doorway to let Draco go ahead of him. "The scars may never fully heal."

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Harry had only just made it to the first intersection down the hall when a sharp pain in his ear yanked him off his feet and into a side corridor.

"Harry, what's gotten into you?" Hermione hissed, shaking her wand accusingly an inch from his nose. "Have you gone insane? We don't know what Malfoy's capable of."

Still angry, Harry scowled and shoved Hermione away from him. "He can't go around thinking he can do this, Hermione! It's not right. And it's not right for us to go slinking about, trying to stay out of his way, looking for proof it was him. We know it was him, who else could it be? And I don't want our proof to come in the form of another victim." Harry crossed his arms and started pacing back and forth in the small corridor. "If he would do something like that to his own house-mate, next time he might do it to ANYone. Who knows, next time it might even be Ron." The thought was almost too much for Harry, and he had to clench his teeth to keep himself from screaming.

"He won't kill Ron, Harry. Remember, Ron was very clear that Malfoy's as much a victim as anyone if the demon gets out. How can he keep the demon at bay if Ron's dead?"

Harry shook his head impatiently. "No, I don't know, it just doesn't add up. There's something else Ron's not telling us, I can feel it, and I'm afraid. Hermione, I'm so afraid that whatever he's not telling us will be the thing that means he's the next one we find half dead, or worse."

"I'm afraid, too, Harry." Hermoine had taken a lock of her hair and was twisting it so tightly around her finger that her fingertip had gone white. "But why do you think that threatening Malfoy will solve anything? You could have gotten into serious trouble. I don't know why you didn't end up with six weeks detention just now or been expelled, but that would be the least of it. Now that he knows we know, what if he decides to do something about it?"

"He wouldn't risk it. It would be too obvious, especially now that Snape caught us arguing about it. Besides, I think he already knew anyway."

Hermione looked up sharply. "What do you mean, he already knew? You mean he already knew that we know? How?"

Harry snorted derisively. "How do you think, Hermione? Ron told him." Hermione just frowned and bit her lip, so Harry continued. "I don't like it, Hermimone. Why was Ron defending him this morning? It's like he's switched sides or something, I don't know. Gah!!" Harry half screamed at the wall, before continuing his pacing. "Maybe Malfoy has him brainwashed somehow, or is using some spell to mess with his head." Harry slammed the side of his fist into the stone wall, instantly regretting it but too pissed-off not to do it again. But then he slumped to the floor. "I just wish we could trust him. I mean, it's Ron." Harry's voice cracked and he clenched his fists, trying to keep himself together.

"I know, Harry." Hermione knelt down next to him and put a hand to his shoulder.

"It's like..." Harry clenched his teeth for a moment and then continued. "It's like he's disappeared. One day we find out he's been keeping this massive secret from us and before you know it, it seems he'll talk more to Malfoy than to us. Why won't he talk to us, Hermione? Aren't we his friends? Why can't we trust him to tell us what's going on?" Harry clenched his eyes shut before snarling and slamming his fist into the wall once more, making Hermione jump. "And all I can think is that Malfoy's behind it all. And whatever he's doing to Ron, I want it to stop. I want my friend back."

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"Make it stop. Make it stop. I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't mean to." Ron was huddled on the couch, rocking back and forth and staring at the floor and Draco had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Ron?" he asked, hesitantly stepping toward the couch, momentarily forgetting that he was pissed-off about the spat with Potter in the corridor. "Ron?" Ron didn't seem to hear him, just continued to rock. His eyes never left the floor and the pleading flood of words never ceased to fall from his lips.

"Weasley, what's going on?" Draco put a hand to Ron's shoulder, only to feel the boy shudder beneath his touch.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. I tried to stop." The ragged words only grew louder as Draco shook Ron's shoulder. The red-head was practically sobbing as he spoke and the words tumbled out between staggered gasps for air, though his eyes, fixed on the floor, remained dry and wide open. Draco didn't have to imagine what Ron was seeing, he'd seen it himself, though he knew he had felt only a fraction of the helplessness and terror that Ron had experienced. Next time he saw Ginny Weasley he was going to wring her skinny, little neck. She'd certainly done enough to deserve it.

"Nooooooo," Ron put his fists to his ears and began keening. Draco felt about ready to panic. Whipping out his wand, he cast a hasty silencing spell to keep Professor Snape from decending on them before turning back to Ron.

Still grasping his wand in one fist, Draco took the Weasley by the shoulders, shaking him, trying to snap him out of it. "What's going on, Ron? What happened?" He tried to keep his voice level and calm, thinking it would be better to sound reassuring than to start freaking out like the boy in front of him. Still, Ron didn't hear him.

"I didn't want to. I didn't mean to." Ron's voice was barely a whisper but Draco thought it had to be better than the screaming.

"I know you didn't, it wasn't your fault. Ron, look at me." Draco had stopped shaking Ron, but still the boy's eyes remained glued to the floor.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Stop. Stop." With every word, Ron's voice began to grow louder and louder once again and Draco started shaking him again roughly by the shoulders.

"Ron, look at me. Ron, stop. Just stop." By now Draco was shaking him with such force that Ron's head was being jerked back and forth on his shoulders. "Weasley, you bastard! Snap out of it." At this point Draco was yelling too and it was a good thing he'd set that silencing spell or the whole castle would have been able to hear the two of them at this point. Draco thought about smacking Ron to try and shock him out of his hysteria, but that sounded too much like what you did with some stupid woman who was freaking out. Instead he just settled for screaming at Ron louder.

"It's my fault!" Ron's eyes snapped up to stare into Draco's own, blazing with anger and grief, then he flung his arms away from his head, sending Draco sprawling backwards off the couch. "Don't you understand?! It's all my fault!" Ron roared, standing over Draco.

Letting go of his wand, Draco scrambled to his feet, anger drawing his lips into a snarl. "You've gone mad," he screamed right back at Ron and right in his face. "Why can't you get a hold of yourself? Why can't you just get over it?"

"Get over it?" Ron yelled. His fists were no longer clenched at his sides but were now raised threatening. "Have you got any idea what I've done? Harry thinks you're the monster, but it's really me. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop."

Draco didn't even flinch but instead let go all of his pent up anger and punched Ron as hard as he absolutely could in the jaw, sending the boy reeling backwards onto the couch. "You haven't done a bloody thing, you stupid git," he screamed. "She had you under the imperious curse."

Ron looked up from the couch, anger still darkening his eyes and his lips drawn back in a snarl. "I hate you," he said, before launching himself at the blond boy.

What ensued can be described no better than as an all-out brawl, with neither boy gaining the upper hand and both resorting to anything from punching to hair pulling to biting. Both sustained multiple injuries and even the couch didn't escape unscathed.

Finally, it ended in a stale-mate with Ron pinning Draco down while Draco had Ron in a head lock. Both were exhausted, breathing like they'd just run five miles flat out. With a shudder Draco let go his choke hold and Ron rolled off the Slytherin to lie flat out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. For a while they just lay like that, Draco curled up slightly to one side around what felt like a cracked rib, and blood running down a cut in Ron's lip. He stared up at the bare, white ceiling with only one eye, the other quickly closing up and beginning to turn a fine shade of plum.

"Why is this happening?" Ron had to work around the swelling in his lip, but he still managed to get the words out clearly enough. "Every time I look at something, all I can see is darkness. That night and the knife. It's like a veil in front of my eyes. I can't cast it off. It's driving me mad."

Draco groaned and rolled over, sitting up and propping himself against the couch. "That bitch." Spitting out a gob of blood, he winced at the sting on the inside of his cheek. Now THAT was going to be a spectacular bruise. At his words Ron looked over at him sharply but Draco was NOT about to apologize. "She's a bitch, Ron, and next time I see her, I'll kill her. I don't care if I have to tear her apart with my bare hands. I don't care if they pack me off to jail to rot. I just want her dead."

Ron made a choking sound. For him the hatred wasn't so straightforward. "You better not, Malfoy," he finally managed. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life baby-sitting you in some stupid jail. Azkaban really doesn't sound like it'd suit me."

Rolling his head against the couch, Draco looked over at Ron and grinned lopsidedly. "Yeah, you're right. Wouldn't suit me either. Imagine what the laundry service is like."

Ron snorted, immediately wishing he hadn't, then struggled up into a sitting position. "What, Malfoy," he asked in mock surprise, "you're actually aware that work goes into keeping your clothes clean?" He sniffed, wiping a hand across his mildly throbbing nose. "Besides, I bet dank stone wall would go perfectly with your complexion. Bring out the color in your eyes, it would."

Malfoy smirked and felt a small cut in the corner of his mouth tear a bit more. "Get over here, Weasley," he commanded, gesturing with one hand before letting it flop back down to his side. "I don't think I'm gonna move for a least two more minutes, but the last time I managed to bite you, there was about a centimeter of fabric in the way."

"Yeah, I noticed." Ron scowled, rubbing his shoulder. "Would you believe it hurt more than when you bite normally." He scooted over towards Draco, pulling up his sleeve to expose his as yet relatively unmarked left arm. "I think this arm is feeling more up to it today, and it's closer."

Draco almost grinned, if a Malfoy ever dared grin, before lifting the arm to his mouth and biting carefully into the tender flesh. It tasted salty and refreshing in a strange sort of way and he relished the warmth of it before pulling away to lick up the stray drops that welled to the surface.

Ron squirmed a bit under his touch. "That tickles." Draco snorted disbelievingly and looked up to see Ron struggling not to grin. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Tickles, does it?" he asked dangerously. "I'll show you tickles." And with that, half shocked at his own daring, he leaned forward quickly and pressed his lips roughly against Ron's own. Ron flinched at the contact, his split lip protesting the fresh assault, but he quickly relaxed and kissed Draco back just as harshly. He nipped at his lip, and traced the angles of Draco's teeth with his tongue, before boldly deepening the kiss.

All the last bits of anger had finally drained out of both boys by the time they drew apart. Draco, one hand clasping the back of Ron's neck, leaned his forehead against Ron's. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, wishing that they could just stay sitting there on the floor forever. Opening his eyes, he saw that Ron had also closed his. "It'll be ok, Ron." He reached up to press his lips to Ron's forehead. "We'll figure this out. It'll be ok." Ron just nodded and for several minutes neither boy moved.