Hey everyone! Like last chapter, this one may seem rushed (particularly at the end), but I REALLY wanted to post again so that you guys could have an update.

Also, to answer some questions regarding Ron's illness, no he's not really sick. His bad reaction to the potion is an allergy. I was going to state that later on down the road (probably not in this story), but there were so many questions regarding it, that I thought I'd clear that up. The illness cover-up was created by Lucius and Narcissa in order to fool Ron into taking the potion in the first place.

Anyway, enjoy! And please feel free to leave reviews! I love them!

Chapter Six:

Feud

"Dumbledore wants you to befriend Harry, then?" Hermione asked the next day, as she, Neville, and Ron sat in a corner of the packed Gryffindor common room. She had her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi opened upon her lap, but she had long since stopped looking at it. Neville was seated next to her with Magical Drafts and Potions pressed up to his face as though it was the most exciting read in the world (he really was determined to do a better job this week in potions). It didn't bother Ron that he hadn't listened to his account of his meeting with Dumbledore, since Neville had heard all about it last night in the privacy of their dormitory.

At first he debated whether it was a good idea to tell Hermione everything. After all, her name had been brought up in the conversation. But then he asked himself what Professor Dumbledore would have him do. His advice had been for him to stand up to Draco, and that included being more open with Hermione. So, he had steeled his nerves and spilled everything, feeling more and more relieved the more he shared with her. If anything, Hermione was a really good listener, and it was nice to see her face rapt with attention, absorbing every little detail like it was something she had devoured from a textbook.

But then, after she had heard the entire spiel, she picked out the one detail that Ron really wanted her to gloss over. He sighed in frustration, rolling his eyes and glaring at her hard. Hermione looked completely and utterly unabashed. "Yes, he wants me to be friends with him, but that wasn't the point of me telling you that!"

Hermione threw her hands up in the air, and Neville gave an automatic flinch while he continued reading. "Then what was?!"

"It's what he said! 'You need each other. More than you know.' What did he mean by that? I really feel like there's something he isn't telling me, Hermione."

The skeptical look upon Hermione's face only aggravated him more and he found himself clenching his fists in repressed rage. Honestly, Hermione really could be so very infuriating sometimes. When he found something of vital importance, she tended to be unable to understand why, and when she was upset, he could never find a reason for it. It was like a weird sort of dance that they were constantly involved in; he would move one way, she would go the opposite, and vice versa. Sure, they were best friends and everything, but for once he wished she were as compliant and agreeable as Neville.

And sure enough, she bit her lip and said, "Well, I don't know if Dumbledore is really hiding anything from you, Ron. I think maybe you're misinterpreting his meaning."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Ron snapped, unable to control himself. Hermione looked taken aback. "What would he mean by that then?! Why would Dumbledore say that unless there was something more to it?!"

"Calm down, Ron!" Neville suddenly said, emerging from behind his book and greeting Ron with a slightly bothered look on his face. It took Ron by surprise; Neville had never, ever had the gall to stand up to Ron when he felt he was being unfair. He stared at Neville as though he were a bizarre creature who he had never set eyes upon. "Hermione has the best brains of all the first years. Let her think it through and explain it first before you start sniping at her."

Ron had the good sense to look ashamed with himself. "Sorry," he mumbled to both of his friends. He expected for Hermione to say that it was all right, but instead she gave a small giggle and covered her mouth with her hand, as though trying to hide the fact that she had found Neville putting Ron in his place amusing. Ron grinned at her, and for a moment, the three friends shared a laugh, which was something that Ron realized with a pang that they did not do enough.

"What I meant," Hermione eventually said through her mirth, "was that Dumbledore might think you guys need each other, because of Draco. What if by being friends with Harry, you make Draco a better person? I mean, it's obvious that Draco wanted to befriend Harry on the Hogwarts Express, but he felt like he couldn't, because he was friends with us. What if you show Draco through Harry that everyone is equal?"

Ron screwed up his face in concentration. "I don't know. It seems like that would be something that Dumbledore could have easily told me. Why wouldn't he just outright say that he thought Harry would be good for Draco?"

"Maybe he wanted you to learn it on your own?" Neville suggested.

Ron nodded. Yes, that seemed like something Dumbledore would do. Teach someone a lesson by guiding them and making them think they realized it on their own. Ron glanced across the crowded common room over to Harry, who was sitting alone, staring out of an open window to the quidditch pitch, where the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were now, the twins trying out for the Gryffindor team, and Jordan trying out for commentator. He looked dreadfully lonely, and for the first time in a while, Ron's heart went out to him.

"Hey, Potter!" he called. Several fourth years nearby looked at him with dislike (a lot of people hadn't forgotten his reaction to being a Gryffindor), and Harry suddenly jumped, an almost guilty expression upon his face, as though he had been caught doing something wrong. "Why don't you come over here and study with us?"

Neville and Hermione both waved, merry expressions lighting their features. Harry glanced between the three of them. He looked suspicious and Ron wondered if maybe he thought he was up to something. He gave Ron a very cold glare then said, "No thanks, I'm going out." Harry then jumped up from his seat and marched out of the room through the portrait hole.

This was going to be a lot harder than he had expected.

I should have chosen a better day to do this, Ron thought with a sigh. Saturday had gone by in a blur of studying and spending time with his steadily growing group of friends, and now Sunday was here. Tonight was the new moon, which meant that he had to take his potion that morning. He was feeling lousy.

It had always been rather difficult for Ron to understand exactly why he always felt worse after taking his potion. After all, it was supposed to help him, but it really didn't feel like it did. His mother had assured him constantly that the potion was one that had to make you feel a little bit worse before you felt better, but Ron really didn't understand why. Couldn't the ingredient that made him feel terrible be omitted? Then he'd just feel good. He supposed that maybe the ingredient that made him feel worse was also the one that made him feel good in the end, though it seemed silly that it should work that way.

He had spent the majority of the morning in bed. Neville had offered to bring him up some food from the Great Hall, but Ron refused, knowing if he ate anything solid that it would come back up anyway. Hermione visited once to read some of her transfiguration notes to him, but it had only put him into a deep sleep, partly because her voice was surprisingly soothing to his headache and partly because the notes themselves were dull.

It wasn't until Harry came in that he decided he needed to get up for the day. "Are you all right?" Harry had asked. The curtains to his four-poster were drawn, so Ron could not see his face. All the same, he was shocked by the amount of concern that saturated Harry's voice. "It's just, Fred and George were wondering where you've been."

Ron contemplated being mean back to Harry, even though the boy seemed surprisingly caring in the moment. It would just feel good to take out all the pain he was feeling on someone else. Taking a deep breath, he remembered the deal he had made with Neville and Hermione the day before: He would try and be nicer to Harry. It may be the only way he could get Draco to be more accepting and get him away from Crabbe and Goyle. "I'm sick," he simply said, curling up into a tighter ball and shivering.

"Yeah, that's what Neville told me," Harry replied. "What's wrong? You seemed fine yesterday."

For some reason, Ron didn't want to tell Harry about his potion. Not yet, anyway. He had such a shaky past with the Boy Who Lived, that it just seemed awkward. So he just said, "I'm not feeling well. I'll be better tomorrow, I think. Tell them I'm sorry."

"Right," Harry had mumbled somewhat disappointed, and Ron strained his ears for the sound of the dormitory door closing. After he was certain Harry was gone, he had thought about what to do. He hadn't seen Draco in a good long while – well, since Thursday, but it had felt like it had been forever – and he realized that eventually, he was going to have to tell him the truth. He wanted to be friends with more than just Neville. Ron longed to be able to spend time with Hermione in public, to make friends with Dean Thomas, who despite his love of the muggle game "football" actually seemed like a kind bloke (forgetting, of course, that every time he glance Ron's way he gave him the most disgusted look). And now he thought, as he pondered over how worried Harry had sounded, that maybe he wanted to try to be friends with Harry.

He couldn't let Draco stand in his way anymore, even when he was sick. So, as painful as it had been, he had dragged himself from his four-poster and gotten dressed. He then traipsed through the common room, ignoring Fred and George who seemed determined to make him play a game of exploding snap, and out of the portrait hole.

Ron had no idea where Draco would be, but he decided to check the library first. Maybe he was worried about Ron, remembering that it was the new moon, and decided to wait in there for him? But when he searched around in every nook and cranny, he saw nothing of his twin.

He's probably in his common room, Ron mused. It wasn't a particularly nice day out, so he was certain that Draco had to be inside, but there was always the possibility that Draco was angry with him for standing him up on Friday and was avoiding him. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the library, deciding that he would wait next to the Slytherin common room entrance all night if he had to. He would talk to Draco tonight.

As it turned out, Ron didn't have to wait next to the common room at all. He ran into his brother in the entrance hall. He was just walking up from the dungeons, Pansy Parkinson in tow. Ron had no idea what Draco would be doing with her – the last they had talked, Pansy was a source of frustration where Draco was concerned, always tailing him and interfering on the Malfoys' quality time with one another. It shocked Ron quite a bit to see his brother seemingly enjoying her company, bragging about the size of Malfoy Manor and suggesting she come over sometime.

They were both just about to climb up the marble staircase when they stopped in their tracks. Draco stared at Ron, his eyes a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. Clearly he hadn't wanted Ron to see him with Pansy Parkinson. "Oh, look, it's your stupid Gryffindor brother," Pansy jeered, laughing like an idiot at the sight of Ron at the top of the steps.

Ron ignored her. "Draco, can we talk?"

Draco looked at him incredulously, as though disbelieving Ron's gall. He had told him that the Slytherins weren't to know they were friends, yet here Ron was approaching him in front of another Slytherin as though they were right old chums. "No, we cannot talk," Draco said. He sounded horribly unlike the Draco Ron had grown up with. His voice was harsh and dismissive, his features angry and annoyed. Ron felt, in that moment, that he no longer knew his twin brother. "Why don't you go back to Gryffindor tower, where you belong?"

Ron sighed. "I don't have time for this, Draco. I'm not feeling well." He stared at him meaningfully, and realization suddenly struck Draco. Ron wondered if he was now seeing all of the telltale signs of sickness upon Ron; the paler than usual face, the bags under his eyes, the sweaty forehead that came with the fever he was suffering through. "Just talk to me for a few moments," he begged.

Pansy laughed at him, but Draco stopped her from mocking him. "Yeah, all right," he had said, shrugging his shoulders despondently. Draco didn't like it when he didn't get his way. Well, if he doesn't like that, he's really in for a surprise, Ron thought grimly.

They went to an empty classroom on the first floor to talk, leaving Pansy behind in the entrance hall to wait for Draco. When they were finally cloistered within the classroom, Draco immediately turned to him and said, "Sorry, but I had to act like that! If I would have been alone, I would have gone right with you, but as it was, I didn't want Pansy realizing we're still friends."

"Yeah, about that-" Ron began, but was quickly cut off.

"How are you feeling? I forgot it was the new moon! I'm sorry, if I would have known, I would have sent Ares with a message to you about meeting up or something." Draco's eyes shone with compassion, obviously feeling for his poor sick brother. Instantly, all sorts of conflicting emotions descended upon Ron. He felt bad that he was intending to tell Draco that their deal was off, imagining what it would have been like if he had been in his shoes. A Slytherin who had a Gryffindor brother? The Slytherins, Ron had realized long ago, were less forgiving.

But still, he was getting tired of feeling so used. Draco was being selfish. He got the added benefit of being friends with whoever he wanted within Slytherin house, while Ron was supposed to only be friends with purebloods. It wasn't fair and Ron knew it.

He thought it would be best to ease into the discussion, though. Ron wearily said, "I'm fine, I guess. I've been in bed all day."

"Where were you Thursday?" Draco asked as casually as he could.

Ron explained all about his struggles with taking Neville to the hospital wing and how he had run into Fred and George Weasley. "It was kind of hard to get away from them, and it felt so good to be making new friends that I kind of lost track of time," Ron said, expecting Draco to blow up at him for forgetting him in lieu of new friends.

Instead, Draco said, "Fred and George Weasley…Are they those identical twins that always chum around with Harry Potter?" Ron felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. This was it. He knew that as soon as he started talking, they would be forced onto the subject of whom Ron could and couldn't befriend.

"Well, yes, actually," Ron said casually.

Draco looked like he swallowed a fish. His eyes bulged dangerously, and for a brief moment he was speechless. "Yeah, you can't be friends with them," Draco eventually said. "I told you that you can't be friends with Harry Potter! He's a good for nothing tosser!"

"I'm not friends with Harry," Ron quickly said. Then, steeling himself, he added, "And why do you feel like you can tell me who I can be friends with? Fred and George are nice blokes and I'll bloody well be friends with them if I want to!"

"We had a deal, Ron!"

"Yeah, and you know what? I've gotten nothing from that deal! I get you making fun of me in classes, then apologizing later when we're alone, and I get to only be friends with Neville. I want to live my own life, Draco!"

"I can't believe how selfish you are!" Draco shouted at him.

"I'm selfish?! Sorry, but I'm not the one saying, 'Oh, you can't spend time with them, it'll make me look bad!' So what if the people who are nicest to me are Muggle-borns and friends with Harry Potter? I don't care!"

Draco suddenly laughed at him menacingly. "That's what this is about! You want to be friends with that Hermione girl? You're so pathetic! She's a Mudblood, Ron!"

Ron didn't know why, but he utterly lost his cool in that moment. His fists clenched in rage, his heart raced frantically in his chest, and he stood up from his chair, staring hard into Draco's gray eyes. "Don't call her that!" he spat in his brother's direction. "She's my friend!"

Once again, Draco mouthed wordlessly for a moment before saying, "You said you wouldn't be friends with her anymore! You lied to me!"

"Oh, big bloody deal!" Ron said while throwing his hands up dramatically. "Heaven forbid I lie to my brother! It's not like you haven't been lying to your entire house about being friends with me! We're twins, Draco! We shouldn't have to sneak around and hide from everyone in the library. It's ridiculous that you've let them run your life like you always try to run mine."

"I don't try to run your life!"

"YES YOU DO!" His own voice echoed around the small room, stinging his ears and only augmenting his headache. Ron didn't care. Now that he was at it, he couldn't stop himself from laying out all his complaints on Draco. "You're always telling me I should do as you say. I want to do as I say, Draco! I can't keep hurting Hermione! She's a good person, Draco, and you'd know that if you would just stop being such a bloody prat and get to know her."

"I don't want to get to know her!" Draco said venomously. "She disgusts me, and frankly, you disgust me! How could you be friends with someone like that? Don't you know what Mum and Dad would say?" For the first time in his life, Ron felt like he could see through his brother. Fear like he had never witnessed before shone in his eyes. He was scared of disappointing them, scared of hearing their father accusing him of being an unloving son. Even through the anger and resentment, Ron's heart sort of went out to Draco in that instant.

"Draco, Mum and Dad are going to love us no matter what," Ron said as quietly and calmly as he could muster. Draco's eyes widened, as though he was shocked that Ron had been able to pick up on his deep-seated fear. His jaw dropped and his posture slumped. Ron could see that he was at a loss for what to say.

Finally he said in a very mournful voice, "I like things the way they've always been. I don't want more friends, especially from Gryffindor."

Ron's heart pounded in his chest. He realized in that instant what would have to be done. Draco was unreasonable. At least, he was while he was still at Hogwarts. He knew that there would be no changing his mind here, when he was surrounded by all the other Slytherins and his heart and mind was being polluted by other peoples' prejudice. No, he would simply have to wait until they were home again to start showing him the error of his ways. Until then, he would have to let him go. "Then, we can't be friends, I guess."

Draco looked like he'd been smacked in the face. Ron felt horrible, but he couldn't take it back or stop the inevitable. He simply couldn't make his friends miserable anymore, and he wouldn't allow Draco to do the same thing to him.

"But…but we're brothers," Draco argued weakly.

"Sorry, mate, but that's how it's got to be," Ron said before turning on his heel and walking out of the classroom, leaving his twin brother behind.

The next week flew by in a confusing blur. Although Ron was relieved to finally be open and honest with himself about who his real friends were, he couldn't help but feel bad about the whole Draco situation. His twin was now openly mean and hateful toward him, scowling at him from across the Great Hall at meal times, talking bad about him loudly in the corridors, and openly making fun of Ron's friends (specifically Hermione, though Neville took a lot of abuse as well) during class. It made Ron seethe, but he figured Draco was merely acting out stubbornly, because he hadn't gotten his way, as he was so accustomed to.

For his part, Neville handled the stress that Draco put on him marvelously. He had adopted the tactic of pretending that Draco was not there, which tended to work well. He never rose to Draco's bait, even when Draco would bring up things about how his family should be ashamed of his magical skill. Instead, he continued to work on whatever project he had at hand, or if he was in the hallway he would just keep walking, silently bowing his head to avoid eye contact.

Hermione, who was much quicker at thinking of a good retort to Draco's belligerence, often did comment back, stating to Ron at one point that someone had to put him in his place. More often than not, though, she would grit her teeth and murmur quietly to herself to just ignore him. It was much harder for her than it was Neville, since Draco seemed to really have it out for her. Finally on Wednesday afternoon, Hermione snapped after Draco had intentionally tripped her in the corridor and told her to stay on the ground, where all good Mudbloods belonged.

"You're not impressing anyone with your racism, you know," Hermione had said in a deadly calm voice, her face pink with suppressed rage. "You're just pushing your brother away, which I know you don't want, even though you pretend to in order to make your house think you're one of them."

"I don't give a damn about him!" Draco spat in her face, looking upon Ron with total loathing.

"I'm sorry," Hermione had later apologized, once the initial anger had abated. "I know it was wrong of me to say, but he's just been so nasty to me. I couldn't take it anymore."

"It's all right," Ron said, though really it wasn't at all. The last thing he needed was for Draco to write home and his parents to actually forbid him from being friends with her. Not to mention that the crueler they were to Draco, the harder it would be for Ron to explain his side of things when the holidays came and they actually got to spend time with one another.

In the meantime, Ron's friendship with the Weasley twins was growing deeper. They spent a lot of time in the common room, laughing about past pranks Fred, George, and their friend Lee Jordan (who was slowly coming to accept Ron as a fixture in their nightly routine) had pulled, planning future ones, and playing exploding snap, wizards chess, and trading chocolate frog cards. Ron rather liked his time with the twins, because they didn't feel the urge to bring up Draco's bad behavior too often, which meant he got a nice respite from the nagging guilt of having let down his brother and causing him to be mean to Ron's friends.

He was even nicer to Harry, trying as hard as he could to not snap at the Boy Who Lived, even when he was at his worst. Harry seemed to have noticed at least a little that Ron was trying to heal their wounded relationship, because over the week his comments had gone from downright horrible, to almost playfully cruel. He still seemed suspicious of Ron's motives, which the Malfoy boy couldn't really blame him for (he supposed that if it had been the other way around and Harry had suddenly been nice to him for seemingly no reason, he would have been wary too), but gradually things were getting better, much to the delight of Hermione, Neville, and the Weasley twins.

On Thursday afternoon, Ron found himself completely distracted from his issues with Draco and his friends by something completely unrelated: Flying lessons. He had known about it since Sunday morning, of course, but now that the day was upon him, he found himself more nervous than he had been since he found out that he was a Gryffindor. It didn't help that Harry and Neville spent the day going on and on about how they were going to be rubbish.

I already know I'm rubbish, he thought dismally. His parents had only let him start flying around on Draco's broomstick when he was nine years old, and then they would only let him fly around for a brief amount of time, afraid of him falling and hurting himself. It was a shame, because over the years, Ron had watched Draco get better and better, while he had been forced to sit back and dream of being great, because his parents feared having to take him to St. Mungo's.

He really didn't blame them, he supposed. By the sound of it, they had spent a lot of time there with Ron when he was first born, trying desperately to battle that mysterious illness that now was the cause of Ron needing a potion every month. It had to have been traumatizing, seeing one of their children suffer so much. Still, Ron hadn't been there since he was a baby, and it was rather tiring to keep hearing he was sick and not being able to do anything fun.

The point was, because of their cautiousness, Ron was now going to make a fool of himself in front of Hermione, Neville, Harry, the entirety of the Gryffindor first years, and (according to the flier posted on the Gryffindor notice board) the Slytherins as well. He could imagine Draco's face now, smirking in obvious delight that his brother who had slighted him so couldn't maintain his balance on his broomstick. Ron spent the entire day dreading flying lessons, but being too afraid to really share with any of his friends just how terrified he was.

When the hour was upon them at last, the Gryffindors made their way down the front steps and out onto the grounds, where they saw Madam Hooch awaiting them, standing between two lines of broomsticks, her posture erect and her eyes stern. Many of the Gryffindors – Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas in particular – talked very excitedly amongst themselves, but the three other boys from their dormitory were unusually quiet, each of them wishing that they could have been learning to fly with the Hufflepuffs, or in private lessons.

The Slytherins showed up only a few moments after the Gryffindors, and Ron saw with dismay that Draco was already smirking knowingly, as though he had a million insults he had prepared to throw Ron's way, should the occasion arise for them. Next to Ron, he could hear Hermione whispering, "Relax, Hermione. It will be okay. All of the books you've read on technique will help and you'll be brilliant." Ron rolled his eyes, but offered her an encouraging smile anyway.

At first, the flying lesson went rather well. Ron was happy when his old broom that he had claimed jumped up into his hand on the third try (not as fast as Harry or Draco's, but way faster than Neville and Hermione's brooms had done), and found that as soon as he had straddled the broom's handle, his fear evaporated just a tiny bit. I'll be fine, he told himself as he watched the last few brooms that remained stubbornly on the ground reluctantly soar into their owners' hands. Madam Hooch won't let anything happen to anyone.

As soon as he thought it, though, everything went terribly wrong. Neville had kicked off from the ground really hard instead of softly, like the professor was telling everyone to do. Suddenly he was soaring upward, his eyes round as saucers as he got closer and closer to the tops of the tree. Then, in what seemed like slow-motion, the broom rolled and suddenly Neville was falling through the air, landing on the ground with a sickening thud.

"Neville!" Ron shouted, dropping his broom to the ground and rushing to his friend's side. Tears streamed down Neville's face as he looked at his wrist, which was bent at an odd angle. "Oh, Merlin, Neville. Just stay calm." His voice was shaking in fear for his friend and his heart was racing. How on earth had this happened? Neville had been fine a moment ago. What about Madam Hooch keeping everyone safe? "It will be all-"

"Out of the way!" Madam Hooch's voice snapped from behind him, and in an instant, Ron was being shoved aside roughly so that the teacher could get a good look at Neville. Ron glared at her hatefully, angry that she hadn't helped Neville at all in his moment of need. All she had done was telling to come back down, which was impossible for him, since Neville had never been on a broom in his life until that moment. How was he supposed to know how to come back to the ground? "Broken wrist. Come on, boy. It's all right. Up you get."

Neville struggled in standing up, but eventually he was standing, his face red as tears fell freely. "None of you move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are, or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch!'"

Ron watched helplessly as his friend was lead away, wishing with all his might that he could go with them to the hospital wing. After all, Ron had been allowed to go after the potions incident (well, actually Snape had told him to go with Neville). He just wanted to be there for his friend. Distracted by anger over being shoved aside so roughly and not being allowed to go with Madam Hooch and Neville, Ron didn't realize until it was too late that Neville's brand new Rememberall was lying upon the ground, ripe for the picking.

"Oh look, it's the great lump's Rememberall!" Draco was saying as he picked up Neville's present and eyeing it malevolently. "Maybe he should have used it to remember how to be a proper wizard. What an embarrassment!" He laughed as he tossed the little ball up and down, smiling at Neville's ludicrousness.

"Give that-" Harry started to say, but Ron cut him off.

"Put it down Draco!" he was positively snarling at his brother. It was one thing to mess with Neville while he was around and could effectively defend himself, but to cruelly laugh at him behind his back was another thing altogether. Draco grinned, as though glad to see his brother had taken the bait.

"Why should I? He won't remember to use it, he doesn't deserve it. I think I'll put it in a tree." He took his broom in his hands, mounted it, and was within seconds soaring as high as Neville had done with no effort at all.

"Leave him alone, Draco! You have a problem with me, not him!"

Draco laughed. "Why don't you come up here and get it, then? Oh that's right, you can't! You're too sick!" Suddenly, all of the other Slytherins were laughing at him, and Ron was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that Draco must have told them all about his need to take a potion every month. "You still have to use my old training broom at home, because Mum and Dad don't trust you enough to ride a real one!" All of Draco's friends were laughing, and despite how hard Ron tried, his ears betrayed his embarrassment, turning red from all of the attention, his heart hammering in his chest as rage and mortification washed through him all at once.

"Just give it back! I can't help that I'm sick and you know it!" Ron pleaded weakly, trying to fight off the urge to cry. He hated looking so pathetic, and he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he did.

"I guess that's why you were put into Gryffindor," Draco said. "If you weren't such a weak little prat the sorting hat would have seen you were a real Malfoy and put you into Slytherin."

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" The Slytherins were all silenced at once, and Ron turned toward the source of the admonition in astonishment. Standing behind him, Harry Potter was glaring up at Ron's brother with hate in his eyes, his fists balled, and his own silent tears streaking down his cheeks.

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