Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. J.K. Rowling owns each and every one of them, because she is amazing and a genius and the best writer possibly in the world. Besides me, of course.

A/N: Probably do not expect a chapter next week. My school is doing a play and we have a matinee on Saturday and by Sunday I have no doubt that I'll barely be able to raise my head, never mind type.

Chapter 31

Ron stared carefully at Severus Snape. He wanted to go back to hating the man, but after all he had done to help Harry, he couldn't. In fact, he kind of envied the man.

It was strange feeling, not because Ron rarely felt it, he felt it often, but because he was feeling it towards the Greasy Git of the dungeons. He had never thought, even in his wildest dreams, that he would feel envious of Severus Snape.

But Snape had been the one to realize the secret that desperately needed to be known.

It was nearly unforgivable that Ron himself had not seen it, noticed the flinches and the grimaces, connected the dots. He had seen, way back in second year, how atrociously Harry had been treated. But he supposed that it was the burden of living in a home full of people and even fuller of love, that he didn't consider the fact that Harry's Uncle could be actually harming him. And for the first few moments he had been uncontrollably angry at himself. He dared call himself Harry's best mate when he didn't realize what was going on? He lived in the same dorm as the boy for nearly six years. He saw him, every time he came back from the summer, when he was skinny and scared, jumping at nearly every sound. How could he have missed it?

Ron's only consolation was that Hermione, and everyone else, had missed it too. After all, Hermione was the smartest and most observant person Ron knew. The fact that she missed the signs too were the only thing keeping Ron from completely hating himself. But it still didn't change the fact that Ron hadn't seen it. And he vowed to himself that he wouldn't fail Harry again by missing something so appallingly obvious.

So he was staring at Severus Snape. Harry may have forgiven him, but Ron could easily remember how awful the man had been to Harry in potions. Who was to say that once they were alone again, Snape wouldn't continue his torture of Harry? Ron needed to be sure that the man actually cared for Harry, or he was going to, no matter what the Headmaster said, bring Harry to the Burrow for the summer, where he at least knew that Harry wouldn't be harmed by those who were supposed to keep him safe.

"Ron?" Harry said. Ron startled and looked towards the bespectacled boy. "Are you alright?"

"Just thinking," Ron assured him.

"Don't hurt yourself," Draco snorted. Ron turned to glare the pointy git. He understood, and didn't mind at all, that Harry liked blokes, but really, did it have to be Draco Malfoy? Ron almost would have preferred Crabbe. The boy may have been dense, but at least he couldn't think up his own insults.

Still, Ron was forced to concede, Draco was good to Harry. Even when Harry smacked at his arm in retaliation for his comment about Ron, Draco did nothing more than chuckle and catch his hand, holding it and placing it on top of the table. At least Ron didn't have to worry about someone breaking his best friend's heart because they were unwilling to show their love to the world. Draco was obviously unflinchingly in love with Harry Potter.

"Harry," Snape drawled from the kitchen. Harry looked up, his eyes clear of fear. Ron hadn't been able to tell before, but now that it was gone, it was clear to see. Harry used to always have this well-hidden fear in his eyes, whenever someone called his name, as if he expected something much worse to follow.

"I'll be right back," Harry said, getting to his feet, stooping down to place a kiss on Draco's cheek, and going to the kitchen. Ron stared at his retreating back and then turned to Draco, who raised a single elegant brow.

"So, how was your Christmas break?" Hermione asked, trying to be civil. Ron liked that as much as he was amazed by it. The girl probably would have tried to make conversation with a Death Eater if she had the chance.

"Fine," Draco said shortly, then obviously checked himself, remembering that he was supposed to be, if not nice, then at least just as civil as the other person. "How was yours?"

The continued to talk, and Ron stared at the kitchen door, wondering what was going on behind it. Could Snape be threatening Harry, making sure that he acted as though he was happy to be with him? Or worse, keeping Harry immobilized while calling the Death Eaters? He knew that Dumbledore trusted Snape, but Ron still wasn't completely positive the man was on their side.

"I'm going to get a glass of water," Ron suddenly announced, standing up.

"Through the door," Draco said, waving towards said object without looking up from his conversation. It appeared as though they were getting along, to Ron's horror. He longed for the days when Hermione enjoyed punching the git in his smug face.

Ron walked towards the door, opening it slowly and quietly, hoping to catch the occupants unaware. It worked for a moment. Ron watched them speaking quietly to each other, their dark heads tilted towards each other over the sink they were washing dishes in. As he watched Harry's shoulders drooped, as if a heavy weight had just been placed on them, and Snape raised a soapy hand, placing it gently on his arm in comfort. And Harry, who rarely allowed people to touch him without having a look of extreme endurance, appeared to be comforted.

Ron took another step and the floor creaked. Both turned to look at him and he raised his hand slightly in innocence.

"Could I get a drink?" He asked. The question was directed towards Harry, who nodded and moved towards a cabinet, but his eyes were only for Snape, conveying a completely different meaning.

Obsidian eyes held his for a moment and then Ron nodded once in approval.