BROKEN
Author: Nox (goddess_nox@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Rowling and Scholastic. However, this fanfic does belong to me. Please don't steal. Please don't sue.
A/N: Such nice and constructive reviews!! I'm very grateful!! : ) This chapter took me forever. It's pretty long, and explains many things. Hope it isn't too confusing. I think, if someone hasn't read BTS, they can read this and understand it, but I'm still unsure. Tell me if it's too confusing!! Again, I'm very grateful to all readers and reviewers!! THANK YOU!! ^_^ v
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. (Boy + Boy = LOVE) Meaning, a homosexual relationship.
/...../ Denotes thought or dream sequence. _ABCD_ Denotes Emphasis. ****Marks scene change.
Part Four:
Ginny Weasley hated her robes. Or, more precisely, she hated the robe she was currently wearing. Fred and George, now owners of a successful shop, had given the thing to her before she'd left for her sixth year. She'd been fussing with the overly long sleeves all day, pulling them up to her elbows in order to take notes only to have them fall again. It was, no doubt, another joke.
/At least Harvey doesn't mind./
Harvey. All summer she and the Ravenclaw had owled each other. Finally, near the end of vacation, they'd decided to become a couple again.
It was no surprise, really. No matter how much she may have tried to deny it, Ginny felt close to Harvey. Even after she'd broken up with the boy they'd been close. She and the Ravenclaw had formed a sort of bond during Winter Break their fourth year.
/Dammit./ Her wrists were itching, but she didn't bother to pull up her sleeves again, as it was rather breezy and cold.
She noticed a figure standing just outside of the forest. /Yes, it's cold,/ she thought, starting towards the figure. /So why is he standing around outside?/
"All right there, Harry?" She flashed a brilliant smile and stopped in front of the seventh year. His mouth was hanging open, as if he were in shock, and he was staring into the distance.
"Oh," he said after a moment. He tore his eyes away from whatever he'd been looking at and managed a half-hearted smile. "Hello Ginny."
"What are you doing out here?" The redhead felt suddenly nervous. She felt like she was intruding. She had hardly talked to Harry the last two years, and Ron didn't even seem to be very close with the boy anymore. She had no right to be nosy. /What a stupid question. He'll just ask me what _I'm_ doing out here./
Harry opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, then closed it. He fidgeted a bit, shifting his weight from one foot to another and glancing past Ginny, in the direction of the castle. "I was just going to visit Hagrid." He stopped, frowned, and narrowed his eyes. "No," he said, firmly and suddenly, looking like he was trying to get up enough nerve to do something drastic.
"What is it Harry?"
"It's Ron," said the teen. "I need to talk to you about Ron."
*****
During Winter Break their fifth year Ron and Malfoy had been stalked and attacked by a first year named John. John had turned out to be the son of Macnair, a Death Eater who'd been sent to execute Buckbeak, Hagrid's hippogriff, just a few years before. The young servant of Voldemort, hidden beneath dark robes, had knocked the two fifth years from their brooms, hit Ron with a powerful spell and had generally tormented and tried to kill the Gryffindor and Slytherin all break.
In the end John had managed to lead Ron into the Forbidden Forest, where he'd intended to kill the redhead. Draco had come to the youngest Weasley brother's rescue, and Dumbledore had then been faced with the question of what one did with an eleven-year-old Death Eater whose father, also a Death Eater, was already in possession of the law.
The Headmaster never figured out an answer, as not even an hour after being caught John had disappeared. Poof, and he was gone.
Or so Dumbledore had said.
Ginny had been involved in that little misadventure due to the facts that she herself had nailed Ron with a spell that break (she preferred not to talk about that), and that Harvey, who had been new to Hogwarts and her boyfriend then, had been Malfoy and Ron's prime suspect. The older boys had believed, reasonably, that Harvey (a troublemaker at his last school) was working for Voldemort. The night before Christmas Eve disaster had ensued, and Ginny had endured all of it with Harvey (who was innocent) at her side.
When it was all over Dumbledore had asked every student who'd been involved not to mention the event to anyone else. Ginny hadn't been sure at the time that it was right to keep Ron's almost-murder a secret from everyone but, certain that the wise Headmaster had reasons for everything, hadn't told a soul about that Winter Break. And, considering the lack of Voldemort related disaster, hadn't had the urge to tell anyone in a very long time.
"I need to talk to you about Ron."
"Ron? What about him?" Harry looked serious, but doubtful. As if he wasn't sure he should be talking to the redhead about....whatever he was trying to talk to her about.
"Have you noticed anything weird about him?" Ginny, smirking slightly, opened her mouth to reply, the _perfect_ response to that question on her mind. Harry cut her off before she could speak. "I mean, he's just been acting really different for a long while now." He looked at her, green eyes narrowed and intense. "I'm worried about him, Ginny."
The genuine concern in those green eyes made all thoughts of joking disappear. Harry seemed really upset.
"I never see him anymore, and I never see Hermione anymore. It's my fault. I was so wrapped up in Cho and wanting to become an Auror that I never stopped to think about my friends. Or about my _former_ friends. Ginny, I saw Ron still sleeping this morning. It was nearly time for classes....I didn't even bother to nudge him awake. What kind of a friend is that? I didn't even notice something might be wrong until...today."
Harry sounded so very wounded and disappointed in himself that Ginny didn't even stop to think before she opened her mouth, trying to be helpful. "I've noticed Ron is different Harry, but don't worry. It's got nothing to do with anything you did or didn't do. He had all that trouble his fifth year during winter break, you know? He just got a little shaken. He'll be..." She trailed off, the words she had just said registering in her brain.
/Oh. No./
Almost two years of keeping a secret, and now this. Without any thought of consequences, without any thought of the promise she had made to Dumbledore, she'd opened her big mouth, ruining everything.
Her eyes grew wide with shock, and she took a step back, away from Harry. /Maybe he didn't notice. Maybe he wasn't listening./
No such luck. The concern in those eyes turned quickly to suspicion. Harry took a step towards Ginny. "Fifth year? Break?" He shook his head, trying to remember. "Trouble?"
"Er..." The youngest Weasley would've gladly smacked herself on the head with her wand at that moment. Hard. Very hard.
The seventh year seemed to be towering over her. "Ginny. Tell me what happened." It wasn't a suggestion.
The girl didn't know what to do. This was Harry Potter. He'd uncovered many secret evil plots throughout the years. He'd gone up against Voldemort himself without being killed. Not knowing what to say, her mouth began opening and closing like a fish. /Would running away make this worse?/
Harry lost his patience. "Tell me-"
"Ginny! Ginny!" Harvey Williams was running frantically towards them. It took him only a few seconds to reach his girlfriend's side. He stayed hunched, panting heavily.
Ginny, saved by the yell, grabbed the Ravenclaw's arm. "What is it Harvey?"
"I've been looking for you everywhere." Having caught his breath, the sixth year looked up, nodding a hello to Harry.
"Why?" Ginny's grip on her boyfriend's arm tightened slightly. She glanced at Harry, noticing he looked more than a little annoyed at the intrusion. "What's wrong?"
"There's been an attack."
"An attack?" Ginny said this, surprised.
"Some girl heard the professors talking. The muggle train station has been destroyed. Along with Platform nine and three quarters. Everyone at the station was killed. Some Death Eaters did it."
Harry clenched his fists so tightly Ginny was surprised when he didn't start bleeding. "If that's not a declaration of war," he said, "I don't know what is."
*****
Only Dumbledore and Snape knew of Draco's alliance to the Order. The Headmaster himself had asked the blonde for help far into sixth year, right after the teen had gone through a particularly nasty fight with Ron.
Draco had been in bed, staring up at the uninteresting ceiling and chewing on a sugar quill (he rather liked those things). He was just beginning to consider leaving the sixth year dorm and joining the other Slytherins in the common room when Snape had burst through the door.
"The Headmaster wants to see you," he'd said.
What had followed was a meeting with Dumbledore that had changed the teens life. Dumbledore had wanted him to be a member of the Order. Had wanted him to spy on his own family and friends. The bearded wizard had told him all of this with hardly a twitch. As if asking the son of Lucius Malfoy, one of the most feared Death Eaters, to join the Order of the Phoenix, was the most natural thing in the world.
"What about fifth year? I saved Ron Weasley from John Macnair that year. Macnair might've told Voldemort what I did. Voldemort might already know that...that I helped one of Potter's friends."
It was true. Draco had worried about going home the summer following fifth year and being nailed with the killing curse by his father. Even then, standing in front of Dumbledore, the blonde had worried that one of Voldemort's followers would pop out of an unlikely hiding place and hit him with a spell. Why shouldn't they? He'd _helped_ a friend of Harry Potter.
"Mr. Malfoy, I am asking you to do this _because_ of what happened fifth year. I am asking you to do this _because_ I'm sure your father has connections with Voldemort. I've asked no other students. Now," said the old wizard, eyes twinkling, "Will you help me?"
Looking back on it, Draco couldn't understand why he'd agreed to join the Order. No other students, not even the famous Harry Potter, were members. His father was a high-ranking follower of the Dark Lord. He would be betraying his family and friends...There were so many reasons _not_ to join.
But Draco had agreed. And he often regretted his decision.
"What were you thinking?" Snape yelled this, eyes wide with rage. The greasy-haired Professor had pulled Draco into his office the moment the blonde had entered the school. Apparently, Snape had spotted him with Ron.
"Have you hit your _head_ recently? Talking to Ron Weasley? _Why_ would you talk to him? What could you possibly have to say to that boy?"
Memories of soft, yielding lips, pleading eyes, and slim hands enveloped in his own sprang to the forefront of Draco's mind at Snape's words.
/I wanted to tell him that I care for him. That I never meant to hurt him./
And this was the truth. The same day Dumbledore had asked Draco to become a spy for the Order, the secret relationship between the blonde and the redhead had ended.
Draco had, earlier that day, gotten into an argument with the Weasel. Something about calling Hermione a mudblood. It wouldn't have been a big deal, if it had been any other day, and not the day Draco was recruited by the Headmaster. With the Slytherin's mouth and the Gryffindor's temper, the two were often fighting, only to make up again.
That night, as usual, Draco had met Ron. This time it was in the hallway right outside of the Owlery. Ron was a few minutes late, but he showed. No matter what the situation, he'd _always_ shown for their meetings. He'd appeared wearing a hand-me-down sweater and a pair of slightly worn pants.
He'd stopped and stood in a patch of moonlight that had managed to make it through a nearby window. He'd looked unreal.
"Listen," the redhead had started, probably planning to apologize. But Draco had raised a hand to silence the other teen before walking over to that bit of moonlight himself.
Draco hadn't spoken at first. He'd pulled a surprised Ron into a crushing hug, clenching the ugly sweater and enjoying the feel of that red hair tickling his neck. He'd smiled to himself, remembering when Ron had towered over _him_. Remembering the constant bickering they'd once engaged in. Remembering back to fifth year when Ron had stopped getting taller, and remembering when they'd first kissed...
Then the platinum haired teen had frowned, pushed the redhead away, and had proceeded to "break up" with only person he'd ever _really_ cared about.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you listening? Have you heard a word of what I've said?" Snape looked absolutely livid. Snape had never acted this way towards the blonde before he'd joined the Order. Or before he'd saved Ron.
"Yes, every word," he answered.
"You-" Snape began, but was cut off by a loud knock on the door. "What is it?"
Professor McGonagall walked in. "Severus, the Headmaster wishes to see all of the Professors. Something dreadful has happened." She stopped, eyes darting to the seventh year Slytherin.
"Well? What is it?" Snape bared his teeth, more angry then he'd been in a very long time. It seemed his best student was turning into a fool. Saving that Weasley in his fifth year, putting himself in mortal danger by joining the Order sixth year (although, Snape had to admit, that could, by some, be considered brave rather than foolish), and now talking with Ron Weasley in public for no apparent reason. Was he looking to blow his cover? Was he looking to get himself killed by his ass of a father? Was he trying to make _friends_ with Weasley?
It made no sense.
"There's been an attack," said McGonagall, and all thoughts of foolish students and jilted, redheaded boyfriends left the room. "It's Voldemort. He's back."
*****
Ron heard about the attack on the train station at dinner. His stew had gotten cold by the time Neville had finished telling him all of the details, and all of the rumors.
A large number of owls flew into the Dining Hall that night, most carrying letters from concerned parents asking their children to write them, some carrying letters telling children they'd be leaving Hogwarts, and going home.
"Got a letter from home," Ginny said sometime in the midst of the meal. She waved a piece of parchment in Ron's general direction before opening and reading it herself. Ron shook his head when she asked if he'd like to read it. He could guess what was on it. His parents would write that he and Ginny were, of course, to stay at Hogwarts. It was after all, with Dumbledore there, supposedly the safest place in the wizarding world.
Ron didn't feel it was necessary to remind his parents of his dreadful first through fourth years at Hogwarts. And he felt it was even less necessary to tell them about the incident during fifth year Winter Break, something Dumbledore himself, for fear of panicking people, had asked to be kept under wraps. He didn't feel as if any of this were necessary, but he also didn't feel like reading any of that "safest place in the wizarding world" crap, either. Even if it was his parents who'd written it.
The youngest Weasley brother didn't notice the odd and slightly concerned look Ginny gave him as she was putting the letter away.
Ron expected to hear Dumbledore speak sometime during the meal. He'd probably stand up and say something comforting, or foreboding. And while waiting for Dumbledore to say something, the redhead figured it was as good a time as any to try and rekindle the Famous Trio's friendship. Because, as horrible as it sounded, disaster seemed to have brought them together. Maybe they could crack this case of evil too, just like in the old days.
Ron began with talking to Harry, who was sitting directly across from him. The Boy Who Lived merely gave him nervous glances and quick, one-word answers to questions before mumbling something about homework and getting up to leave.
/Homework? Who gets homework on the first day of school?/ Maybe he just didn't want to talk to the redhead. Or maybe he was becoming like Hermione, who always seemed to have homework the first day of classes.
Hermione.
The girl was also sitting across from him. She had her head bowed over her stew, which she was picking at with her spoon. The stacks of books that seemed to always surround her were absent.
"Hey Herm," tried Ron, putting on a smile.
She looked up, but it was as if she was looking _through_ him, rather than _at_ him. "Ron," she said, her voice completely void of either coldness or friendliness. She glanced at the muggle watch on her wrist and stood. "I've got to go to the library."
And with that, she was gone. Ron could hardly believe it. The friends he remembered were, apparently, no more. Harry seemed to have let the fame and the pretty girlfriend get to his head. Hermione seemed to have left her head completely. Or maybe they were just like that with him. He had, after all, been the one to break up the friendship.
It wasn't their fault. It was his.
Ron sat in the Dining Hall until dinner was over. Dumbledore didn't make a speech.
He navigated the stairways easily, arriving in the Gryffindor common room just before curfew. He trudged up to the seventh year dorms.
"Hey Ron," said Neville when he walked in. "There's an owl for you."
Ron saw the school owl on his bed, a small, rolled up piece of parchment tied with a bit of string hanging from one of its feet. The redhead took the message and watched the owl fly out one of the windows before unrolling the parchment.
He gasped, surprised.
"What is it?" Neville asked this. Seamus looked up from his Transfiguration textbook, obviously curious about what was wrong.
"Nothing," Ron answered, and looked back down at the words scribbled on the parchment:
MIDNIGHT. QUIDDITCH FIELD. MEET ME.
Author: Nox (goddess_nox@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Rowling and Scholastic. However, this fanfic does belong to me. Please don't steal. Please don't sue.
A/N: Such nice and constructive reviews!! I'm very grateful!! : ) This chapter took me forever. It's pretty long, and explains many things. Hope it isn't too confusing. I think, if someone hasn't read BTS, they can read this and understand it, but I'm still unsure. Tell me if it's too confusing!! Again, I'm very grateful to all readers and reviewers!! THANK YOU!! ^_^ v
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. (Boy + Boy = LOVE) Meaning, a homosexual relationship.
/...../ Denotes thought or dream sequence. _ABCD_ Denotes Emphasis. ****Marks scene change.
Part Four:
Ginny Weasley hated her robes. Or, more precisely, she hated the robe she was currently wearing. Fred and George, now owners of a successful shop, had given the thing to her before she'd left for her sixth year. She'd been fussing with the overly long sleeves all day, pulling them up to her elbows in order to take notes only to have them fall again. It was, no doubt, another joke.
/At least Harvey doesn't mind./
Harvey. All summer she and the Ravenclaw had owled each other. Finally, near the end of vacation, they'd decided to become a couple again.
It was no surprise, really. No matter how much she may have tried to deny it, Ginny felt close to Harvey. Even after she'd broken up with the boy they'd been close. She and the Ravenclaw had formed a sort of bond during Winter Break their fourth year.
/Dammit./ Her wrists were itching, but she didn't bother to pull up her sleeves again, as it was rather breezy and cold.
She noticed a figure standing just outside of the forest. /Yes, it's cold,/ she thought, starting towards the figure. /So why is he standing around outside?/
"All right there, Harry?" She flashed a brilliant smile and stopped in front of the seventh year. His mouth was hanging open, as if he were in shock, and he was staring into the distance.
"Oh," he said after a moment. He tore his eyes away from whatever he'd been looking at and managed a half-hearted smile. "Hello Ginny."
"What are you doing out here?" The redhead felt suddenly nervous. She felt like she was intruding. She had hardly talked to Harry the last two years, and Ron didn't even seem to be very close with the boy anymore. She had no right to be nosy. /What a stupid question. He'll just ask me what _I'm_ doing out here./
Harry opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, then closed it. He fidgeted a bit, shifting his weight from one foot to another and glancing past Ginny, in the direction of the castle. "I was just going to visit Hagrid." He stopped, frowned, and narrowed his eyes. "No," he said, firmly and suddenly, looking like he was trying to get up enough nerve to do something drastic.
"What is it Harry?"
"It's Ron," said the teen. "I need to talk to you about Ron."
*****
During Winter Break their fifth year Ron and Malfoy had been stalked and attacked by a first year named John. John had turned out to be the son of Macnair, a Death Eater who'd been sent to execute Buckbeak, Hagrid's hippogriff, just a few years before. The young servant of Voldemort, hidden beneath dark robes, had knocked the two fifth years from their brooms, hit Ron with a powerful spell and had generally tormented and tried to kill the Gryffindor and Slytherin all break.
In the end John had managed to lead Ron into the Forbidden Forest, where he'd intended to kill the redhead. Draco had come to the youngest Weasley brother's rescue, and Dumbledore had then been faced with the question of what one did with an eleven-year-old Death Eater whose father, also a Death Eater, was already in possession of the law.
The Headmaster never figured out an answer, as not even an hour after being caught John had disappeared. Poof, and he was gone.
Or so Dumbledore had said.
Ginny had been involved in that little misadventure due to the facts that she herself had nailed Ron with a spell that break (she preferred not to talk about that), and that Harvey, who had been new to Hogwarts and her boyfriend then, had been Malfoy and Ron's prime suspect. The older boys had believed, reasonably, that Harvey (a troublemaker at his last school) was working for Voldemort. The night before Christmas Eve disaster had ensued, and Ginny had endured all of it with Harvey (who was innocent) at her side.
When it was all over Dumbledore had asked every student who'd been involved not to mention the event to anyone else. Ginny hadn't been sure at the time that it was right to keep Ron's almost-murder a secret from everyone but, certain that the wise Headmaster had reasons for everything, hadn't told a soul about that Winter Break. And, considering the lack of Voldemort related disaster, hadn't had the urge to tell anyone in a very long time.
"I need to talk to you about Ron."
"Ron? What about him?" Harry looked serious, but doubtful. As if he wasn't sure he should be talking to the redhead about....whatever he was trying to talk to her about.
"Have you noticed anything weird about him?" Ginny, smirking slightly, opened her mouth to reply, the _perfect_ response to that question on her mind. Harry cut her off before she could speak. "I mean, he's just been acting really different for a long while now." He looked at her, green eyes narrowed and intense. "I'm worried about him, Ginny."
The genuine concern in those green eyes made all thoughts of joking disappear. Harry seemed really upset.
"I never see him anymore, and I never see Hermione anymore. It's my fault. I was so wrapped up in Cho and wanting to become an Auror that I never stopped to think about my friends. Or about my _former_ friends. Ginny, I saw Ron still sleeping this morning. It was nearly time for classes....I didn't even bother to nudge him awake. What kind of a friend is that? I didn't even notice something might be wrong until...today."
Harry sounded so very wounded and disappointed in himself that Ginny didn't even stop to think before she opened her mouth, trying to be helpful. "I've noticed Ron is different Harry, but don't worry. It's got nothing to do with anything you did or didn't do. He had all that trouble his fifth year during winter break, you know? He just got a little shaken. He'll be..." She trailed off, the words she had just said registering in her brain.
/Oh. No./
Almost two years of keeping a secret, and now this. Without any thought of consequences, without any thought of the promise she had made to Dumbledore, she'd opened her big mouth, ruining everything.
Her eyes grew wide with shock, and she took a step back, away from Harry. /Maybe he didn't notice. Maybe he wasn't listening./
No such luck. The concern in those eyes turned quickly to suspicion. Harry took a step towards Ginny. "Fifth year? Break?" He shook his head, trying to remember. "Trouble?"
"Er..." The youngest Weasley would've gladly smacked herself on the head with her wand at that moment. Hard. Very hard.
The seventh year seemed to be towering over her. "Ginny. Tell me what happened." It wasn't a suggestion.
The girl didn't know what to do. This was Harry Potter. He'd uncovered many secret evil plots throughout the years. He'd gone up against Voldemort himself without being killed. Not knowing what to say, her mouth began opening and closing like a fish. /Would running away make this worse?/
Harry lost his patience. "Tell me-"
"Ginny! Ginny!" Harvey Williams was running frantically towards them. It took him only a few seconds to reach his girlfriend's side. He stayed hunched, panting heavily.
Ginny, saved by the yell, grabbed the Ravenclaw's arm. "What is it Harvey?"
"I've been looking for you everywhere." Having caught his breath, the sixth year looked up, nodding a hello to Harry.
"Why?" Ginny's grip on her boyfriend's arm tightened slightly. She glanced at Harry, noticing he looked more than a little annoyed at the intrusion. "What's wrong?"
"There's been an attack."
"An attack?" Ginny said this, surprised.
"Some girl heard the professors talking. The muggle train station has been destroyed. Along with Platform nine and three quarters. Everyone at the station was killed. Some Death Eaters did it."
Harry clenched his fists so tightly Ginny was surprised when he didn't start bleeding. "If that's not a declaration of war," he said, "I don't know what is."
*****
Only Dumbledore and Snape knew of Draco's alliance to the Order. The Headmaster himself had asked the blonde for help far into sixth year, right after the teen had gone through a particularly nasty fight with Ron.
Draco had been in bed, staring up at the uninteresting ceiling and chewing on a sugar quill (he rather liked those things). He was just beginning to consider leaving the sixth year dorm and joining the other Slytherins in the common room when Snape had burst through the door.
"The Headmaster wants to see you," he'd said.
What had followed was a meeting with Dumbledore that had changed the teens life. Dumbledore had wanted him to be a member of the Order. Had wanted him to spy on his own family and friends. The bearded wizard had told him all of this with hardly a twitch. As if asking the son of Lucius Malfoy, one of the most feared Death Eaters, to join the Order of the Phoenix, was the most natural thing in the world.
"What about fifth year? I saved Ron Weasley from John Macnair that year. Macnair might've told Voldemort what I did. Voldemort might already know that...that I helped one of Potter's friends."
It was true. Draco had worried about going home the summer following fifth year and being nailed with the killing curse by his father. Even then, standing in front of Dumbledore, the blonde had worried that one of Voldemort's followers would pop out of an unlikely hiding place and hit him with a spell. Why shouldn't they? He'd _helped_ a friend of Harry Potter.
"Mr. Malfoy, I am asking you to do this _because_ of what happened fifth year. I am asking you to do this _because_ I'm sure your father has connections with Voldemort. I've asked no other students. Now," said the old wizard, eyes twinkling, "Will you help me?"
Looking back on it, Draco couldn't understand why he'd agreed to join the Order. No other students, not even the famous Harry Potter, were members. His father was a high-ranking follower of the Dark Lord. He would be betraying his family and friends...There were so many reasons _not_ to join.
But Draco had agreed. And he often regretted his decision.
"What were you thinking?" Snape yelled this, eyes wide with rage. The greasy-haired Professor had pulled Draco into his office the moment the blonde had entered the school. Apparently, Snape had spotted him with Ron.
"Have you hit your _head_ recently? Talking to Ron Weasley? _Why_ would you talk to him? What could you possibly have to say to that boy?"
Memories of soft, yielding lips, pleading eyes, and slim hands enveloped in his own sprang to the forefront of Draco's mind at Snape's words.
/I wanted to tell him that I care for him. That I never meant to hurt him./
And this was the truth. The same day Dumbledore had asked Draco to become a spy for the Order, the secret relationship between the blonde and the redhead had ended.
Draco had, earlier that day, gotten into an argument with the Weasel. Something about calling Hermione a mudblood. It wouldn't have been a big deal, if it had been any other day, and not the day Draco was recruited by the Headmaster. With the Slytherin's mouth and the Gryffindor's temper, the two were often fighting, only to make up again.
That night, as usual, Draco had met Ron. This time it was in the hallway right outside of the Owlery. Ron was a few minutes late, but he showed. No matter what the situation, he'd _always_ shown for their meetings. He'd appeared wearing a hand-me-down sweater and a pair of slightly worn pants.
He'd stopped and stood in a patch of moonlight that had managed to make it through a nearby window. He'd looked unreal.
"Listen," the redhead had started, probably planning to apologize. But Draco had raised a hand to silence the other teen before walking over to that bit of moonlight himself.
Draco hadn't spoken at first. He'd pulled a surprised Ron into a crushing hug, clenching the ugly sweater and enjoying the feel of that red hair tickling his neck. He'd smiled to himself, remembering when Ron had towered over _him_. Remembering the constant bickering they'd once engaged in. Remembering back to fifth year when Ron had stopped getting taller, and remembering when they'd first kissed...
Then the platinum haired teen had frowned, pushed the redhead away, and had proceeded to "break up" with only person he'd ever _really_ cared about.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you listening? Have you heard a word of what I've said?" Snape looked absolutely livid. Snape had never acted this way towards the blonde before he'd joined the Order. Or before he'd saved Ron.
"Yes, every word," he answered.
"You-" Snape began, but was cut off by a loud knock on the door. "What is it?"
Professor McGonagall walked in. "Severus, the Headmaster wishes to see all of the Professors. Something dreadful has happened." She stopped, eyes darting to the seventh year Slytherin.
"Well? What is it?" Snape bared his teeth, more angry then he'd been in a very long time. It seemed his best student was turning into a fool. Saving that Weasley in his fifth year, putting himself in mortal danger by joining the Order sixth year (although, Snape had to admit, that could, by some, be considered brave rather than foolish), and now talking with Ron Weasley in public for no apparent reason. Was he looking to blow his cover? Was he looking to get himself killed by his ass of a father? Was he trying to make _friends_ with Weasley?
It made no sense.
"There's been an attack," said McGonagall, and all thoughts of foolish students and jilted, redheaded boyfriends left the room. "It's Voldemort. He's back."
*****
Ron heard about the attack on the train station at dinner. His stew had gotten cold by the time Neville had finished telling him all of the details, and all of the rumors.
A large number of owls flew into the Dining Hall that night, most carrying letters from concerned parents asking their children to write them, some carrying letters telling children they'd be leaving Hogwarts, and going home.
"Got a letter from home," Ginny said sometime in the midst of the meal. She waved a piece of parchment in Ron's general direction before opening and reading it herself. Ron shook his head when she asked if he'd like to read it. He could guess what was on it. His parents would write that he and Ginny were, of course, to stay at Hogwarts. It was after all, with Dumbledore there, supposedly the safest place in the wizarding world.
Ron didn't feel it was necessary to remind his parents of his dreadful first through fourth years at Hogwarts. And he felt it was even less necessary to tell them about the incident during fifth year Winter Break, something Dumbledore himself, for fear of panicking people, had asked to be kept under wraps. He didn't feel as if any of this were necessary, but he also didn't feel like reading any of that "safest place in the wizarding world" crap, either. Even if it was his parents who'd written it.
The youngest Weasley brother didn't notice the odd and slightly concerned look Ginny gave him as she was putting the letter away.
Ron expected to hear Dumbledore speak sometime during the meal. He'd probably stand up and say something comforting, or foreboding. And while waiting for Dumbledore to say something, the redhead figured it was as good a time as any to try and rekindle the Famous Trio's friendship. Because, as horrible as it sounded, disaster seemed to have brought them together. Maybe they could crack this case of evil too, just like in the old days.
Ron began with talking to Harry, who was sitting directly across from him. The Boy Who Lived merely gave him nervous glances and quick, one-word answers to questions before mumbling something about homework and getting up to leave.
/Homework? Who gets homework on the first day of school?/ Maybe he just didn't want to talk to the redhead. Or maybe he was becoming like Hermione, who always seemed to have homework the first day of classes.
Hermione.
The girl was also sitting across from him. She had her head bowed over her stew, which she was picking at with her spoon. The stacks of books that seemed to always surround her were absent.
"Hey Herm," tried Ron, putting on a smile.
She looked up, but it was as if she was looking _through_ him, rather than _at_ him. "Ron," she said, her voice completely void of either coldness or friendliness. She glanced at the muggle watch on her wrist and stood. "I've got to go to the library."
And with that, she was gone. Ron could hardly believe it. The friends he remembered were, apparently, no more. Harry seemed to have let the fame and the pretty girlfriend get to his head. Hermione seemed to have left her head completely. Or maybe they were just like that with him. He had, after all, been the one to break up the friendship.
It wasn't their fault. It was his.
Ron sat in the Dining Hall until dinner was over. Dumbledore didn't make a speech.
He navigated the stairways easily, arriving in the Gryffindor common room just before curfew. He trudged up to the seventh year dorms.
"Hey Ron," said Neville when he walked in. "There's an owl for you."
Ron saw the school owl on his bed, a small, rolled up piece of parchment tied with a bit of string hanging from one of its feet. The redhead took the message and watched the owl fly out one of the windows before unrolling the parchment.
He gasped, surprised.
"What is it?" Neville asked this. Seamus looked up from his Transfiguration textbook, obviously curious about what was wrong.
"Nothing," Ron answered, and looked back down at the words scribbled on the parchment:
MIDNIGHT. QUIDDITCH FIELD. MEET ME.