"Harry?" Ron called out as he entered the dungeon dorm. He walked in, taking in the disarray and hair clippings with amusement and confusion. He paused, when he heard sobbing coming from the bathroom. "Harry?" he said again, approaching the door. Reaching out he pushed it open fully and looked down at the form of Draco Malfoy, slumped against the tiles and sobbing. "Draco?" Ron said confusedly. "Where is Harry? I thought you two were still—"

Draco looked up briefly and let out a sniffle at the mention of Harry's name, but quickly looked back down. "He ran away," he said.

"What? Why?"

Draco snorked back his sob. "We were just kissing, and then he went all… wooo hooo and he ran away."

"Woo hoo?" Ron asked.

Draco nodded.

Ron sighed. "And he woo hooed all by himself? There was no …pause to take time to freak out or…I dunno, some sort of problem that would have caused him to …"

"Hey! I do not have any problems that would cause…" Draco covered his face and sobbed again.

Ron walked over to kneel down beside Draco, and took him in his arms. "What happened Draco? It's not like I'm gonna be mad or anything. If it makes you feel better, whatever happened was clearly Harry's fault and he shouldn't have run off."

Draco's shoulders heaved slightly and Ron perceived a weak laugh.

"I have this injury," Draco said. "You remember in the war…I'm sorry about your dad Ron."

Ron was confused, to say the least. "My dad?" he asked.

"I was there that day, I mean night, at Knockturn Alley. It's where it happened."

"What happened?"

"I got hit with a burning curse and I went down. Then there was all this noise and great chunks of the building were falling. Your dad, he was taken hostage that day. I saw him disappear with the Death Eaters, and then I didn't see anything else because the stone fell and it crushed my spine. I woke up weeks later, the were—I mean Remus, he brought me in."

Ron couldn't say more than, "Oh." He rubbed circles on Malfoy's back and used the other hand to pet the back of his hair. "Malfoy I don't understand what this has to do with kissing Harry," he finally said.

Draco sniffled. "Well, I was getting to that. We were kissing," he said, as he rubbed his face on the front of Ron's robes. "We were kissing, and Harry was pulling me really close and he just—he pulled too hard and the wrong way and it hurt and so I made this … noise you know, like a pain noise and he noticed that I was you know—crying, and I don't know what he thought but he ran away before I could tell him what was wrong and he looked so disgusted and he was supposed to be attached to me but he wasn't! I just—I wanted to tell him but he was so horrified at what he'd done." Draco sobbed heavily, "And I don't know which part disgusted him, that he'd kissed me or that he'd hurt me!" he wailed.

Ron rolled his eyes. Thankfully Draco, with his head buried somewhere in Ron's chest, couldn't see it. Ron took a moment to appreciate the fact that he was sitting on a cold tile floor cuddling Draco Malfoy while he sobbed about his lost love—Harry Potter. It was immensely funny, as two days ago he would have been horrified by the prospect. Right now, he was only horrified that Draco kept rubbing snot on him. And oddly, that it was mildly arousing to be holding someone again. Ron filed that one away for future reference.

"Draco," Ron said. "I'm sure that Harry meant to kiss you. He's been all moony-eyed—no pun intended," Ron chuckled to himself, "about you."

"He has not," Draco said. "I'm quite egotistical and I would have noticed if he was noticing me and he hasn't been—not until very very recently. Like—today recently. So stop lying to me Weasley! Or I'll fork you to death."

"Fork?" Ron asked confusedly.

"Yes," Draco said. "They're eating utensils. We civilized people use them instead of our fingers when we sit down to eat."

Ron snorked and poked Draco in the side. Draco yelped, and giggled slightly.

"Well," Ron said. "Maybe Harry hasn't been, but I've seen you being dreamy towards him."

"So?" Draco snapped.

Ron shrugged. "So look, I'm quite sure that Harry was disgusted that he'd hurt you. It probably scared him."

"Do you think so?" Draco asked, tilting his head up to look at Ron.

"I think so," Ron said, smiling slightly.

Draco thought about it, and decided that Ron probably knew Harry better than anyone else, so maybe he knew what he was saying. And speaking of Ron knowing Harry really well, it occurred to him to ask…

"Wait," he said. "Is Harry even gay? We had this whole discussion…"

"Uhm," Ron said, thinking. "Well there was that Oliver Wood thing, I mean …that was be-yond hero worship. Puh-luh-eaaaase. But, I don't think he's really gay—he's more bi probably, there's been a few girls…" Ron squinched his nose. "I think," he said.

Draco nodded. "Could we…I'm ok now, could we get up?"

Ron sighed in relief. "Yes please," he said. "My ass is never going to recover."

"Oh Weasley," Draco teased. "You flatter me. I mean I know I'm good but to never recover is still a bit of an exaggeration."

Ron stared for a moment, wide eyed with horror. His hands paused midway to rubbing his bum.

Draco laughed delightedly.

"Or you know," Ron said. "Maybe Harry was just disgusted that he'd kissed you when he knew he didn't feel anything for you like what he knew you felt for him."

Draco's eyebrows drew together, his chin quivered. "Ron," he said, "that was really really mean." He burst into tears.

"Oh Draco, I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I know that's not what happened. I was just talking out of my arse… I'm so sorry."

Draco shook his head stubbornly. "I haven't been mean to you at all. Not since we started this whole thing. But you're just malicious…and I told you all that stuff…oh god you'll tell everyone and they'll laugh at me, and you say 'I'm sorry' about as sincerely as Potter. I hate you two! You're really annoying!" Draco walked over and threw himself into Ron's arms.

Ron stared at the ceiling. Really, his solitary life mourning Hermoine had been so much easier than this. He realized though, staring down at the shiny white hair, that he wanted friendships so much more than he wanted that back. There was something about being leaned on again that was (ok, arousing) but also warming, filling. He was sure that Hermoine would be proud of him for being nice to Draco. No—not for being nice to him. For wanting to be nice to him. There was a difference between what you made yourself do, and what you really genuinely wanted. And really, that was the crux of the matter. Ron wanted to like Draco. He wanted Harry to get over himself long enough to love Draco. What Ron wants, he makes happen—but he had to find Harry first. He sighed, and patted Draco on the back.

"I'm—I wish I hadn't said that to you Draco, but I'm going to talk to Harry and I'm sure this is all going to be fine. I just …I need to help him sort some things out."

Draco raised his head slightly. "You're sure you can make it better?"

"Yeah," Ron said, smiling. "I can make everything better."

Draco wiped some more snot on Ron's robes. "I'll believe you Weasley, but only because I'm desperate."

Ron laughed, and pulled away from Draco. "That's as much as I can hope for."

Draco nodded sorrowfully.