Sorry folks, didn't mean to wait this long before posting. I had hoped to be able to give you 6 chapters at once, but unfortunatly my brain couldn't keep up. So forgive the long wait, and enjoy the first chapter of the second part of the Animagis story. Are things ever going to get back to normal with our two hero's?

Please reveiw.

Animagis

Part 2

Chapter 1

Ron had been starting at the pair of reading glasses for over twenty minutes now. Ever since the healer had left. He knew what he should do, go down to the library, give Draco his glasses, and promptly leave again. But for some reason none of that felt right. It had been over a week since they had come back, a week of avoidance and overwhelming confusion, because Ron just couldn't make sense of anything, and it was making him frustrated.

He had taken the sofa to sleep on, he hadn't wanted to get into another argument with Draco over the bed. He knew exactly how it would have gone, and he would have ended up on the sofa anyway, so it was easier to just start off where he would have ended up. Because of this however, he had been woken every single night when Draco had returned from the library. He had feigned sleep, his thoughts still too much of a whirl to even consider speaking to the other Animagis. Listened to him putter about in the small kitchen making his tea, before going to bed. He'd been woken up every morning, too early by his reckoning, by Draco leaving for the library.

He couldn't dispute what the healer had told him. He knew, perhaps better than anyone that Draco was overworking himself. It almost scared him to think of that. How could he possibly know the other that well? When there was so much he had forgotten, or pushed aside over the years. How did he know exactly how Draco liked his tea, knew that he had to keep an eye on him when he became too obsessed with work, know to remind him to eat when he hadn't… how did he know all that, all the little things… when he forgot what he was… Even his own thoughts refused to cooperate with him recently.

"Why Malfoy, Ron?" repeated itself constantly in his head, and he had yet to come up with an answer that could explain anything.

How could he have let his guard down so much that he had become almost cosy with a deatheater? His glare turned harder, the glasses didn't seem to realise, or they just didn't care how angry he was becoming. He let out a sigh and slumped back, thinking about what the healer had said.

"He's been coming in sometimes twice a day for headache potion's, he looks sick, Ron, and it's my duty as a healer to help… but you know Mr. Malfoy, he never accepts help. He can't go on like this any longer Ron, and as his partner you have to do something."

But what could he do?

He had realised after the healer had left that he had indeed noticed Draco was beginning to look ill, and that he had been having headaches. When he caught sight of the glasses, sitting innocuously on the kitchen counter where he had watched Draco sit them while he waited for his tea to brew, rubbing between his eyes like he had a major headache. Ron had ignored the spike of worry at the motion, in no mood to deal with his conflicting emotions so early in the morning.

He knew why Draco was having the headaches, it was obvious really, he forgot his glasses more often than not, and reading the texts in the library strained his eyes. It had taken weeks of persuasion to get Draco to realise he needed reading glasses at all. Ron couldn't stop the tiny smile that played on his lips as he remembered the way Draco had bickered at him for hours about it. That had been four years ago now.

Heaving another sigh he reached out for the innocent spectacles, and stood. If he didn't go do something he would probably have the healer back here again tomorrow with another speech on how Animagis partners have to look out for each other, etc. etc. but he still didn't know what he was supposed to do. Before all this confusion he supposed he would have just told him, or fought with him over it… if he was to be completely honest, if this had happened before Lucius had stepped in the picture, Draco wouldn't have been down in the library, he'd have been in their rooms, where Ron would make sure he wasn't overworking himself.

It was strange how one overheard conversation could change something he had never before questioned.

He left the rooms and headed down to the library.

He hesitated at the door, uneasy about entering when he didn't know what he was supposed to say or do. He knew that with the turmoil he was feeling there could be a huge fight, and that was not something he wanted particularly. A fight would do nothing to help him work out what was going on, he knew it wouldn't. He was not always hot-tempered. In fact, over the past number of years he had rarely lost his temper at all, sure he had felt angry, and very much so, but he hadn't exploded like he used to do when he was younger. When he had first started the Animagis. He blew out a sigh and pushed open the door.

Draco was sitting on the floor, three stacks of books piled high around him. He wasn't reading the book that lay open on his crossed legs, he was resting his elbow against it while he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. Ron watched him for a few moments, feeling that stab of worry go through him again. He couldn't remember the last time the other man had looked this bad outside of being poisoned.

"You know," he said, stepping forward, fishing the glasses out of his pocket. "You wouldn't get headaches if you would just remember your glasses." there was none of the humour that used to be there when he said it, and he felt himself winch inwardly at it's loss.

He had been surprised how much he had actually missed bickering and teasing with Draco. He had, of course, ignored this as best he could. But there was a hole now where all of that had once been, and he didn't know how to stop it up.

Draco looked up tiredly, reaching out to take the glasses from Ron. He didn't put them on, just let them drop onto the book with his hand. He stared at them blankly for a moment. There was tenseness in the air that was almost palatable. It sent a shiver dancing up his spine. He dismissed it as his being overtired, he had gotten perhaps… ten hours sleep all week thus far? Less? And the last time he had actually eaten properly… a long time ago now. He smiled humourlessly.

"Indeed." he answered Ron belatedly.

He didn't show any of the surprise he felt when he heard Ron pull one of the chairs over and sat down. He didn't even look up. He did, however, put on his glasses, feeling his headache recede slightly now that he didn't have to strain to see the words on the page.

Ron sat in silence, watching him read. Something had stopped him leaving. He wasn't exactly sure what, but something had. He was feeling very tense, and he could see Draco was as well, even though he hid it well. He sat for as long as he could before he just had to say something… anything… he didn't know how to explain the feelings that had plagued him from he had heard Draco announced his loyalty to the dark lord. Didn't know if he should continue to trust the other man or not… he didn't know much of anything. But he had to start somewhere.

Besides the silence was really starting to bug him now.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

Draco looked up, startled at the interruption and blinked owlishly behind the glasses. He studied Ron's face for a moment, like he was searching for something. Whatever it was he seemed content enough with it to answer. "I am trying to work out how my father is controlling them. So far I am having no luck…" he trailed off and looked at the books around him. He still had hundreds more to troll through. Hopefully one would have something in it.

Ah, the mission. "An idea's?" he asked. They still had the mission to do, and unless he went to the council and explained why he refused to work with Draco he was still on the mission. He ignored the niggling feeling that it would be a big mistake to try and get the council to split them up. He sighed almost silently after a moment.

Draco had raised his eyes just enough to watch Ron, watching the emotions flicker over his face, reading each one easily, after all, he had had years of practice. There was nothing he could really do to speed the process along. He toyed briefly with the idea of sending Ron packing, he wasn't really in the mood to deal with another outburst. But for the first time this week they had remained in the same room for more than five minutes before something happened. Draco had taken the point on that, staying for as long as he could in the library. If it had been anyone else it would have been called cowardly, and avoiding a much deserved confrontation.

It wasn't though, not really…

Or, at least that was what Draco was telling himself.

Besides he had had research to do. He looked again at Ron. He needed someone to bounce idea's off, and Ron had made a useful sounding board for a good eight years now. He could only hope it would continue to hold.

"Not really," Draco answered finally. "Lucius did mentions a few things though…" he trailed off, wondering briefly if it was a good idea to bring this up… but, if they were going to work together he couldn't afford to have this come up later and used to backstab him. Draco was nothing if not practical. "He wouldn't tell me how he was controlling them, but he did mention the dark Lord quite frequently." he unconsciously drew in a breath and waited for the onslaught he expected to come.

Ron was frozen for a few moments before he finally managed to rouse himself enough to stammer. "You-know-who's back?"

Draco released his held breath, this was going better than he had expected, though that could just be because Ron seemed to be in shock. "No, The Dark Lord--Voldermort--is dead. After what happened between he and Potter there is no way he could have survived." there was no specific emotion to that statement, there hadn't been even when the news had broken years ago, he had left that world behind him when he had become an Animagis. He couldn't understand how Ron could still cling to anything outside of that. He had given up on trying to figure Weasley out years ago, it was just simpler that way.

Ron blinked at Draco for a full minute before his brain kicked itself into gear. "So if it's not you-know-who, then what was he talking about?" this was turning out to be a lot simpler than he had thought it would be.

Draco shrugged, casting his eyes back down to the book. "My father's time in Askaban rendered him insane, it could be passed off as ramblings… but there was something about how he kept mentioning it… a conviction of some sort. He truly believes in this 'dark lord'. but whether he is real or not is debateable at best."

"And you think…" Ron prompted.

"I think we can't afford not to believe it. If my father is not the one controlling them, then someone else is." he closed the book in frustration. "and I have yet to find anything in these books that could help me find out how!" he snapped it rather waspishly at himself and at the innocent book.

Ron looked at him. The sooner they got this mission finished, the sooner he could really think, maybe distracting himself with work would help. That was the reason he gave himself for what he offered next. "Need any help?"

Draco looked up at him, his face unguarded for just a moment in his surprise, allowing Ron to see something he didn't really expect, a kind of relief, but not for his offered help, for something more. He didn't know what, or why he thought that, but he knew it was true. Draco nodded slowly, flipping the book he had slammed closed open again.

Ron reached over and grabbed one of the books off the top of the nearest pile.