A/N: I know I am a horrible horrible person for not updating this in so long and honestly, I have so many excuses that there's really no good excuse (if that made ANY sense at all)... I hope you guys will forgive me!! (racheesi) Awww, forgive her lots. This chappie was written a while back, but it only got posted now. By me. For her. Yeah. Um. and Racheesi wanted me to say that I helped her write this chapter. Which I did. (ivysnowe)

Disclaimer: The characters and places of Harry Potter do not in any way shape or form belong to racheesi or the special guest author, ivysnowe

Draco continued to stare at the page, entranced, as it seemed to mock him. The inky words echoing in his mind:

'This potion may reverse some of the effects of the following charms:...Obliviate This potion may reverse some of the effects of the following charms:...Obliviate'

"Bloody hell."

The Slytherin knew without a doubt in his mind that he needed to give the antidote for Ron, but the ramifications if it also revearsed the effects of his obliviatons...could be disasterous. The redhead was known for his temper and if he discovered that Draco Malfoy, of all people, had been placing that spell on him repeatedly, well, he'd react violently.

He glared angrily at the innocent looking potion, as if blaming it for what he'd done, before tiredly dragging a hand down his face in defeat. He couldn't not give the potion to Ron, he needed to be cured from the damn potion he had been dosing himself with.

"Maybe...maybe it won't revearse the effects. It only said that it may revearse Obliviate. So, there's a chance that it wouldn't and I'm worrying over nothing. Yes, that's possible!" Draco, unaware of what he was doing, began speaking aloud to himself, his normal Slytherin tendancies leaving him in a fit of panic all because of the other boy he was beginning to lo-...like.

"What, praytell, are you going on about Draco?" an acerbic voice spoke from behind, "It's been over an hour since you ran off to brew the potion for...your Weasley"

Turning slowly, Draco came face to face with the resident Potions Master himself, his face carrying a slight hint of red at what said potions master had implied.

"My...Weasley, sir? I'm sorry, but I have no idea what your talking about." he bluffed.

"Indeed, Mr. Malfoy, you seemed quite confident of the fact as you shouted your claim at Madam Pomfrey and I when you stormed out of the Hospital Wing oven an hour ago." Snape returned cooly.

"I...wait, what?! Over an hour?! Ron needs to take the antidote before he gets worse!" Draco nearly yelped in panic, quite the opposite of the smooth and in control character he was trying to display.

"A fine assessment, Mr. Malfoy. Now, if you wouldn't mind, Madam Pomfrey needs to cure her patient"

At that, Draco snatched up the bottle and, carrying it tucked in his arms safely, he sprinted up to where his Weasley was, an amused Severus Snape following at a more sedate pace.

--

Ron opened his eyes with a groan. His head felt twelve times worse than a hangover. He looked around him and recognized the hospital wing. The door creaked open and Draco Malfoy walked in, drinking a cup of coffee. Once he noticed Ron was awake, however, the coffee mug dropped to the floor and shattered as Draco ran to Ron's bedside, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking, Weasley? Trying to brew your own Pepper-Up Potion?! You could have DIED. I thought you were dead! You were asleep for four days, Weasley! Four miserable fucking days! I hope YOU got enough sleep, because I sure as hell didn't! I can't believe you would do that! Didn't you notice it was the wrong color? WHY would you do such a thing? Had me worried sick, you did! Do you realize how hard it is keeping up my cool Slytherin appearance when you were up here DYING?! What the fucking hell, Weasley?"

Ron flinched at the screaming. This was not helping his headache at all. He grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his head, trying to block out the noise. Soon enough the pillow was wrenched away from his face and Draco was screaming again, his voice getting higher and more shrill with each sentence.

"Do you even realize how hard it was to brew that antidote?! I thought I did it wrong and killed you! What would have happened then? I would have gone to Azkaban! Just because you-" Ron was hit with the pillow. Hard. "can't-" hit again "brew-" hit "a-" hit "Pepper-up Potion-" hit "to save-" hit "your stupid-" hit "miserable-" hit "life and-" hit "you have-" hit "to make-" hit "everyone else-" hit "worry-" hit "about" hit "you!" hit "I hate you." hit "I hate you." hit "I hate you!" hit "I HATE YOU!!" THWAK.

Draco ran out of the hospital wing, with Ron clutching his aching head, not noticing the tears pouring down Draco's cheeks.

After a few moments of not being attacked by a crazy pillow wielding Draco Malfoy, Ron lifted his head painfully and discovered he was alone.

"What the bloody hell was all that about? I'm sickly and he decides to beat me with a pillow?" He would have continued on in this vein if his vision hadn't gotten blurred and his mind fuzzy with forgotten memories.

An intimate room filled with little light.

Hot searching mouths, battling for dominance.

Cool hands against flushed skin, gripping and trailing smoothly.

A wicked smile and lust filled eyes.

Ron shook his head to clear the images from his mind as a blush spread across his face.

"Wha-" his question was cut off as once again his vision changed and his mind grew foggy.

Cold stone pressed against his back.

A flash of silver blonde hair and cool grey eyes.

The press of an arm against his throat and a wand at his temple.

A voice muttering a spell.

With a gasp, Ron was pulled free of his memories. Memories that had apparantly been forcefully forgotten. After gulping air and trying to calm his racing mind, he spoke.

"That bastard. What did he do to me"

A few moments later, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and seemed surprised to see Ron awake and sitting up. Immediately she began to give him a check-up, completely unaware that the young Gryffindor's mind was in turmoil over the last flashes of memory. When she was through, she was nearly unmoving in the decision to release him from her care, but with some pleading and his patented puppy dog look (stolen from Percy of all people) he was let go, with the threat of a return should she even recieve the inkling that he was unwell.
After a quick and panicked escape from the Hospital Wing, Ron found himself in an empty corridor. He was panting and pressed a hand to his head as the final memory he recieved while in the infirmary repeated itself like the toll of a bell.

A voice muttering a spell.

"Obliviate."