Disclaimer: don't own, I somehow doubt rowling would put Draco through such mental torture.

Anyway, I'm back, and here's a new chapter-sorry for the wait, I'm a chapter of finishing my other story so I guess I have been neglecting my poor Draco/Ron fic. Ok, for those waiting for slash, you know it won't be graphic, just hints really-but here is where it starts, so enjoy.

The Other Way

Draco was sitting where I had left him; he had the chess board out on the table, puzzling over a move. I smiled, he was playing chess with himself-even I in my most desperate hour wouldn't do that.

"Draco." I said.

He jumped and looked at me, then at the chess board and back at me and he pulled away. I just barely stopped myself rolling my eyes.

"You can play the game if you want to." I told him, taking the seat opposite and staring at the board. He relaxed slightly, but was still watching me warily. "But it's always easier if you play with another person." I reached out, took the remaining white castle and took his knight, I looked at him and smiled. "You're move."

"Your question." He replied quietly, dropping his eyes to the board.

I nearly laughed, he wanted to know about the dinner, and only the fact that he had taken the complete initiative in this one kept me from stalking off to complain about Hermione in private. I considered a question. "Ok." Now was as good a time as any to have a session. "I remember in school, you used to steal a lot, why was that?"

He was caught completely off guard by that. Finally he shrugged. "I just did, I'm not sure there was a reason behind it?"

"So it wasn't because of your father?" I asked, it had probably been subconscious on his part, to get his parents attention.

He thought about it, actually thought and shook his head. "No, I just did it because I could." He said eventually.

Control then. Why was everything about control lately. Harry wanting to control Draco, Hermione wanting to control how Harry felt about her-even me, to a degree, I wanted to control just what happened between Harry and Draco. It was all about control. The only person among us who deserved to have control over his own life, was the one person who didn't know how to take that control back from us. I nodded. "Your move."

He moved his bishop and took my castle. He chewed his lip for a moment, building up his courage to ask. "What happened at the dinner?" he asked quietly. "You were back early."

"Me and Hermione had a fight." I said. I really didn't want to talk about it. "About Harry."

He flinched slightly at the name and looked warily at the fireplace. He didn't ask me another question to clarify it, I could see he wanted to. He was just so unsure of himself, and I hated it. Right now I would have given anything just to have him start on of those arguments we used to have, the ones that left me spluttering because I just didn't have the wit to think up a decent answer. "She's in love with Harry." I told him softly, barely noticing his look of surprise. "She thinks he's just ill and can get better." I had to laugh at the thought. Maybe he would in about a hundred years.

"You don't believe it! He asked.

"Draco, I saw a lot of things during the war, and it's proved to me that people aren't always who you think they are-Harry's had problems all his life-this isn't something that can just be fixed. What he did to you was just… it wasn't something I ever expected of him-you… I could have seen you do it, but not him. It just makes this so much harder."

He was looking at me, those grey eyes calculating for a second, then he blinked and it was gone, replaced by the look I was now used to, submission.

"But like I said, the war proved to me people aren't who they seem. I was very wrong about you Draco, and for that I'm sorry." Wasn't this just the night for this, I just get back from an argument with Hermione, my ex-best friend is an abusive monster, and I've just admitted to my patient that I thought him capable of doing what Harry had done.

There was something wrong with me. "Maybe we shouldn't play anymore tonight. I'm a little too exhausted. Maybe tomorrow?" I said quietly, getting up.

He nodded and started packing up the chess board.

I was halfway to my room when he sudden asked. "Is that why you helped me? Because of guilt?"

There was none of the old bite he would have used in saying those words six years ago, just a resignation.

I was frozen in place for a moment before I could bring myself to turn. He hadn't even looked up from packing away the chess pieces, his blond hair falling like a curtain to hide his face. "Draco…" I breathed, not really knowing what else to say.

It was guilt, wasn't it, that was this had started as, my guilt over not seeing it while it was happening. But it had changed-somewhere along the line it had changed-around the same time I stopped calling him Malfoy I think. I didn't know what. I just didn't know.

He looked up at me when I said his name, pushing his hair behind his ear. He looked so… so young… so different from I remembered him in school-yet right beside that look of resignation, around the edges, was a ring of passion I hadn't seen.

And I was lost.

That's really the only way to describe it. In that moment I was completely lost. I didn't know why I helped him, why I was helping him-all I knew was that it wasn't guilt… not anymore.

So much for Gryffindor courage-I turned and ran, I didn't even give him an answer.

I listened as he finished packing up the chess pieces and shuffled into his room, my thoughts whirling. Needed to talk to Ruth. Having Draco here just wasn't going to work anymore. I had done something no Weasely should ever do.

I had somehow, inexplicably fallen for a…

Malfoy…

Draco…

Oh bloody hell! I was never going to live this down if Charlie and George found out.

That was… weird… I don't know where it came from. Don't kill me please, it was supposed to turn out more soul searching than this, but I just can't do it! I'm sorry! It's all the good weather, I just can't write convincing Drama when the sun is shining!