Ron had never considered himself the most socially adept of people. He freely admitted a lot of things went over his head when emotions were concerned, and especially when girls' emotions were concerned. As such, he could only assume he had said or done something terribly offensive when Harry and Hermione started avoiding him like dragonpox. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what. There hadn't been a specific comment he could think of after which they started avoiding him. He hadn't said anything particularly offensive recently.

Maybe it had been the comment he'd made about Slytherins taking over their friend group after that new Greengrass girl started hanging out with them? But that'd all been meant in good fun, and Greengrass had laughed, so that probably wasn't it. Ron was more mature than he used to be and he was ready to accept that it was possible to be Slytherin and not irredeemably evil. Though of course he still had house pride and the Slytherins on the Quidditch team were unquestionably a bunch of evil minded gits. Oh, and Draco.

Under ordinary circumstances, Ron would have just let things blow over. His friends could be notoriously touchy, but quick to forgive. But these were not ordinary circumstances. They were as far from ordinary as it was possible to get. Not only were they in the midst of a deadly tournament and Harry needed his best mate to help him survive, but McGonagall had just announced they'd be having a dance at Yule. A dance! No wonder he'd been asked to bring those accursed dress robes. He should have made the connection.

As soon as Ron heard about the dance, his first thought was that he wanted to ask Hermione, but there were a lot of problems with that idea, even putting aside the fact she was shutting him out. Hermione was so far out of Ron's league, it wasn't even funny. She was the smartest girl in the school and drop dead gorgeous to boot. And Ron? What was Ron? The sixth son. A lazy berk who kept on putting his foot in his mouth. For Merlin's sake, he had thought for a while Harry really did put his name in the Goblet on purpose, even if it was just for a few hours.

It was really sheer and unrelenting agony having a crush on someone like Hermione and knowing she'd never, ever like him back. And now everyone was probably going to try to ask her out. Heck, he'd seen Viktor Krum hovering around the library in the midst of their research sessions. He was an international Quidditch player and Ron was a nobody. Who in their right mind would go out with Ron when they could go out with Krum?

But Ron hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor for nothing. If he was going to crash and burn, then at least he'd have the satisfaction of knowing he'd tried. But before that happened, he had to figure out what the heck he'd done to get Hermione so upset with him and then find some way to apologize. If only he had the slightest clue what it might be! Maybe someone had Polyjuiced themself into him and said or done something really offensive? That was Ron's best guess and honestly, it was a crazy idea. There was no one who both hated him that much and was smart enough to come up with the plan.

So he decided to track down Daphne and get her input. Slytherins were usually experts in the social thing, right? They were cunning and ambitious. You had to be good at social stuff to be that. Stands to reason. Ron hadn't had an opportunity to talk one on one with his sister's girlfriend's best friend, but so far, Daphne had seemed nice if erratic. Like Luna, really. Birds of a feather flocked together, or whatever that saying was. She sure as heck hadn't called anyone a mudblood or anything like that.

Unfortunately, Daphne appeared just as bewildered at Ron's conundrum as Ron was. "Sorry, Ron, they don't talk to me very much. I'm not…they don't really remember me being a part of their lives very much."

Ron tilted his head. "Sorry?"

"Look, can you keep this a secret?" Daphne said, looking around frantically. Ron nodded. He was willing to do a solid for Daphne if she was willing to put in a good word with Hermione. Look at him, acting like a Slytherin. Maybe it was infectious. "Okay, so my family was cursed by the Morrigan." Ron whistled. If even half the legends of the Morrigan were true, the legendary witch had forgotten more dark magic than You Know Who and Grindelwald knew combined. "It manifests differently for each girl in our family. For me, it was that no one could remember me."

Ron's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "So wait, you've been here all along? Wait, have you been –"

"No, I have not been a part of your adventures the whole time," Daphne said, an uncharacteristically annoyed note entering her voice. "I'm sorry, it's just you say that every time. It gets annoying. Anyway, the curse broke recently. At the same time my dad died. They say it was a heart attack, but I think…I think he sacrificed his life in a ritual to cure me and my sister."

Ron shuddered. "That sounds like some seriously dark magic…"

"I know!" Daphne snapped. "Yes, I know. And if I'd known he was going to do it, I'd have told him not to. Which is probably why I didn't know. But he's dead and my sister's cured, so I'm not too upset. My sister had a heart condition – even odds she'd die by forty."

"Your secret's safe with me," Ron promised. If Lord Greengrass was practicing dark magic and still alive, he'd be obligated to report him, but since he was dead, what good could be achieved by telling anyone? "Do you have any clue what I did? I'm just…completely at a loss."

Daphne shrugged. "I don't know. Your Polyjuice theory is actually more likely than you might think, though. There's a black market on Polyjuice in the Slytherin dorms. There's a supplier in Knockturn Alley Montague knows. Couples like to…um, experiment." Ron could feel his cheeks flushing a luminous red color. "Tell you what, I'll make some discreet inquiries. And you should ask Ginny or Luna to pass along a message to them. Or maybe Malfoy."

Ron scoffed. "Like Draco wants to have anything to do with me. He's following Harry around like a puppy. It's sad. I wish they'd just snog already and stop dancing around each other. As long as I don't have to see it, of course."

"Well, soon enough, they'll be dancing with each other," Daphne pointed out. Ron couldn't help but shudder at the very thought. He had very reluctantly accepted the fact Draco was going to be a part of all their lives for the foreseeable future as Harry's boyfriend, but that didn't mean he had to like it. But the two of them got along reasonably well. They didn't have much in the way of common interests save Harry's welfare, but that was proving to be enough for the moment.

"Thanks for your help, Daphne," Ron said and started to walk away, but then he turned back. "Say, do you want to go with me to the Yule Ball?"

Daphne looked at him like he'd grown a second head and Ron could definitely see why, because he hadn't the slightest clue of why those words had come out of his mouth. But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make a bizarre amount of sense to him. Daphne was quite undeniably pretty, and she was just a fun person to be around in general. She was always going out of her way to help others. She tutored the first years in her spare time. And she was a near stranger to her housemates if what she'd said about her curse was true so she probably didn't have anyone jumping to ask her. It wasn't as if any other candidates for dates to the ball came to Ron's mind.

"Would you just be going with me to make Hermione jealous?" Daphne said bluntly.

Ron thought about it. She wasn't entirely wrong about that being a motivation. Daphne wasn't quite on Hermione's level in the beauty department, but the rest of the school disagreed. Ron was really miffed he had been cast aside by Hermione without so much as a hint about what sin he might have committed. (Obviously, Harry was just going along with her – if Harry was angry, there'd be screaming arguments, not the silent treatment.) It wasn't a way to treat a friend. Hadn't he saved her life from the troll? The least he was owed was an explanation. So, yeah, a part of him kind of did want revenge, to make her jealous.

"I'd be a great date," Ron promised her instead of answering her directly. "I'd pay you a lot of attention, and I think I can dance pretty well, and I'd even kiss you if you wanted."

"Do you want to make Hermione jealous, Ron?" Daphne said, sounding annoyed.

Ron sighed. "Yeah."

"Great! Sounds good." Ron blinked. He had not expected her to say yes. "Hey, you're gonna be a gentleman. I can sure as heck do a lot worse. Most of the boys in my year have trouble keeping their hands to themselves. Except Malfoy, of course, but he's already taken and everyone knows it." Ron grunted. "If I'm gonna go out with someone with an ulterior motive, I'd rather it be yours." She tilted her head appraisingly. "And, you know, you're not half bad to look at."

"You're pretty too," Ron admitted, blushing.

"Wow, thanks!" Daphne said, sounding shocked and sincere. "That's so nice of you. But you'd better make damn sure you can dance well, Ronald Bilius Weasley. I will not be embarrassed on the dance floor." Ron gulped. He was doomed, wasn't he? Well, if he was going to go out, it would be in style.

In the meantime, he had slightly greater problems going on than his best friends hating him and going to the Yule Ball with a Slytherin he'd only had a handful of conversations with (to the best of his memory, at least). Mum had been fully released from what had to be Dumbledore's thrall and to say she was pissed was something of a massive understatement. And to make matters even worse, she had put Dad under the Imperius Curse too, which could get her thrown in Azkaban if anyone found out.

Unfortunately, Mum's determination to try to take Dumbledore down from the inside meant she still had to send those awful Howlers. But they were a lot easier to handle now that Ginny knew Mum didn't mean them. Mum was still trying to figure out how to get closer to Dumbledore, though. It wasn't as if there were any open positions in Hogwarts and Mum wasn't going to be of any help to Dumbledore in the political arenas.

If only they knew why Dumbledore had gone to so much trouble in the first place! What was gained by turning her into a raving homophobic lunatic? Ron couldn't think of a single thing. Mum's Howlers only look like Dumbledore didn't have control over his school at best and was actively condemning homophobia and cruelty at worst. Sometimes in his sillier, more sleep deprived moments, Ron wondered if Dumbledore was trying to get caught.

Ron couldn't do this alone. He needed Harry and Hermione to be on his side. He didn't realize how miserable he was without them until they stopped being his friend. If Hermione didn't want to go out with him, that was one thing, but the thought of stopping being her friend forever was just unbearable. He was going to get some answers. He wasn't going to let some misunderstanding get in the way of a friendship that had saved his life multiple times.

With that in mind, Ron charged straight towards the Gryffindor dormitory only for him to be tackled and dragged into a nearby broom closet by an unknown assailant. "Daphne…?" he called out hopefully.

A wand was pressed against his throat. "Don't scream or I'll cut your throat," Draco whispered. Learning the identity of his assailant did not make Ron any more comfortable than he did before. If anything, it was a million times worse.

"I'm not into blokes, Draco!" Ron said in a panicky tone.

"What? Oh, bloody hell, no! Not in a million years! Me and a Weasley? I have standards, Ron! Now…you might have noticed your friends are a bit suspicious of you recently."

"No, I am entirely blind and deaf," Ron said sarcastically.

Draco tilted his head thoughtfully. "You know, that would explain a lot." Ron rolled his eyes. "I have reason to believe you've been mentally compromised." Ron's blood ran cold. It couldn't be possible, could it? Then again, Mum probably would have said the exact same thing. They'd spent a lot of time over the summer, hadn't they? Plenty of time for Dumbledore, via Mum, to get her hooks in him. "I want to take you to someone who can help get you deprogrammed."

"Yes," Ron said instantly. He only barely managed to stop himself from shouting it at the top of his lungs. The idea he had been brainwashed somehow was just ridiculous, but even if it was nonsense, Harry would at least trust the opinion of Draco's deprogrammer Ron was in the clear and they could go back to being friends.

Draco looked surprised Ron agreed so readily but he pulled out a Chocolate Frog card. "It's a Portkey keyed to your magical signature," Draco explained. "It'll only activate when you touch it."

Ron hesitated for just an instant before touching the Portkey. Maybe he shouldn't have done it. It was, objectively speaking, quite stupid to go with Draco to a location only the two of them knew about using a Portkey that was, at the very least, against the rules when Draco's father was a longtime enemy of the Weasley family. But Ron trusted Draco, as galling as the idea was. He'd proven time and time again that he was, if not exactly a stalwart supporter of the light, at least a stalwart supporter of Harry.

So he grabbed the Portkey and to his slight shock, he found himself in the palatial living room of Malfoy Manor. Lady Malfoy stood before him. Ron looked around frantically, but to his relief, Lord Malfoy was nowhere in sight. Ron hurriedly did the proper greeting (or at least what he was pretty sure was the proper greeting; he was quite rusty on his etiquette) and kissed Lady Malfoy's hand. Lady Malfoy looked amused. Ron hoped that was a good thing.

"Hello, young Weasley," Lady Malfoy said with a slight smirk. "I must say, I was surprised to see you today. Draco said he could convince you but I…well, I do confess I underestimated him." Draco's smirk was much more pronounced than his mother's. "I am a very skilled Legilimens." That word sounded familiar. "That is to say, I am talented in the mind arts. I can go into your head and try to find out the extent of the contamination."

Ron's skin crawled. He was uncomfortable enough being in front of Lady Malfoy in the flesh, let alone letting her into his mind. "The choice is yours, Ron," Lady Malfoy said. "But I do believe your friends will not trust you until I have cleared you."

"And why should they trust you?" Ron said belligerently. "You're a Death Eater!"

"My dear husband is a Death Eater," Lady Malfoy corrected him. He hadn't known it was possible to imbue that much sarcasm and contempt into the word dear. "I never took the mark. You must understand, Ron, as the wife of a rather traditional pureblood, I was…not at liberty to act as independently as I wanted during the war."

That…did make sense, now that Ron thought about it. He knew there were jerks out there, especially among the high class purebloods, who only saw women as property and made binding magical marriage contracts accordingly. It wasn't the dominant way of looking at things, even among Death Eater types, but Lord Malfoy would definitely have been just the sort of arsehole to restrict his wife that way.

"But there was an infidelity clause in the contract and Lucius broke it a few years ago, thus invalidating the contract," Lady Malfoy went on. "The marriage remains for the sake of convenience and Draco." Draco looked uncomfortable for a few seconds. "I am therefore free to pursue my own agenda. And right now, that agenda aligns with Harry's."

She leaned forward, looking earnest. Ron didn't believe she was sincere. It was all an act. That didn't mean she was lying about being on Harry's side – or, more accurately, him being on hers – but Ron knew Lady Malfoy wasn't loyal to him. If she deemed it necessary, she would betray Harry and everyone else around him, except for Draco. But for now, Ron was willing to believe Lady Malfoy was willing to ally herself with her future son-in-law and, by extension, Harry's best friend as well.

"I'm not a good person, Ron," Lady Malfoy said. "I have been referred to – quite accurately, if I do say so myself – as a coldhearted bitch. I will not pretend I am fighting for justice and righteousness and puppies and all that Gryffindor garbage. I am standing with Harry because I believe standing with him is in my best interests. He can do more for me than the Dark Lord can, and if that means standing against Dumbledore, I am willing to do that too. We both know, after all, Harry one day will be minister."

Ron wanted to protest, but it probably would have been for naught. Even if Harry had no interest in politics, his insufferable hero complex combined with both Draco and Hermione's interests in acquiring political power, albeit for very different reasons, would probably put him in the minister's office anyway. Hell, he'd probably win as a write in candidate upon reaching the age of majority without even trying to run. It was an inevitability and if Ron could see it, Lady Malfoy certainly could.

"What guarantee do I have you won't use what you see against me?" Ron challenged her.

"I could Obliviate myself afterwards," Narcissa suggested. "I have talent in that field. Accept my offer or don't, Ron, but choose soon. I have another appointment coming up."

Ron looked over at Draco. "No offense, Ron, but I don't think Mum really gives a damn about anything up there. If there is anything up there." Ron gave him the finger.

"Mr. Weasley!" Lady Malfoy snapped. "I should hope your parents at the very least taught you about not making such gestures in the presence of a lady."

Ron bowed his head, actually feeling guilty. "Sorry, Lady Malfoy." He made the decision in a flash. He had to get his friends back. And for some reason, he trusted Lady Malfoy. Perhaps it was because she was so forthright about how she really only cared about herself. "All right, do it before I change my mind."

"All right, listen very carefully to my voice and feel yourself drift off to sleep…"

Ron was out like a light in less than a minute. When he woke up again, it was about an hour and fifteen minutes later according to the wall clock. Lady Malfoy was sitting on a sofa, her hand trembling infinitesimally and a haunted look in her eyes. Draco looked a lot more openly disturbed. "Well?!"

"The good news is that your friends were wrong and you were not reporting to Dumbledore of your own free will," Lady Malfoy said after what felt like an eternity. Wait, did that imply what Ron thought it did? "The bad news is that you've been controlled into doing it."

Ron felt like he was going to hurl. Lady Malfoy conjured a glass with a blue liquid in it. "Here, take this Calming Draught. You're going to need it." Ron gulped and sipped at the potion. It tasted like peppermint.

It had started right after he got to school on the very first day. Dumbledore had brought him to his office on the pretext of checking in with the son of his old friend and started trying to get his hooks into Ron's mind. Ron was proud to learn it had taken him a very long time to succumb to Dumbledore's influence. By the time Dumbledore had gotten the barest hook into Ron's mind, it had been January. He hadn't managed to entirely sneak his way in until near the end of the year, right before they'd gone after the Stone.

And since then, Ron's subconscious had been resolutely, stubbornly loyal to Harry. He had been convinced to report on Harry's activities for Harry's own good, but he still wouldn't tell Dumbledore things like the Polyjuice Potion they brewed in during second year or other things that could get Harry into major trouble. And it outright rebelled against any suggestions of hurting Harry, even if, to Ron's endless horror, it still would go along with suggestions that might hurt other people, including himself.

In all honesty, Ron had been worried things would go a lot worse. And much to his huge relief, his subconscious had sequestered the memories of Dumbledore's spell over Mum being broken. Though he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it secret.

"I shoved those memories deeper down where Dumbledore wouldn't find it unless he was specifically looking for it," Lady Malfoy informed him. "You actually have prodigious potential as an Occlumens – one skilled at resisting mind magic – if you choose to develop that."

Ron looked at Lady Malfoy askance. "You just spent all that time telling how much he'd managed to subvert me! How can I be good at that?"

"Dumbledore is a master of the art," Lady Malfoy said, a touch of impatience in her voice. "There is no one alive more skilled than he. To resist as much as you did is an accomplishment I confess I could not accomplish. You have potential, Ron, if trained."

"Could you train me?" Ron asked.

"I could, but I will not," Lady Malfoy said coolly. "I have neither the time nor the inclination to do so. I have ensured Dumbledore will not discover any further actions you commit against him. For now, there is no reason to train you. You are a pawn to him and not of any particular interest except for information you provide him." Ron didn't like that at all, but he had to admit, he couldn't really think of anything he could do to persuade Lady Malfoy otherwise.

Ron stood up. "Thank you so much, Lady Malfoy."

"You are most welcome, young man," Lady Malfoy said, sounding surprised at his politeness. "I will recommend, through Draco, that your friendships will resume. But do not be surprised if your friendship is…strained for a while. After all, we both know where information given to you will end up."

Ron shuddered. The thought of Dumbledore still having his hooks in his head was a haunting one. "But I have to keep his influence in my head, don't I? Otherwise, he'll get suspicious."

"I'm afraid so," Lady Malfoy admitted. "It is not an enviable position you have found yourself in. But such is life. Sometimes, we have to do unpleasant things in service of a larger plan. Good luck, Ronald."

Ron nodded slowly. He had the distinct feeling he was going to be needing it.

Harry should have been feeling triumphant. The Yule Ball was nearing and he was determined to ask Draco to be not only his partner for the dance, but also his boyfriend. He was absolutely certain Draco would say yes. Him saying no would be a sign things were very wrong. After all, the two of them were soulmates. Meant to be together from the very beginning. Harry should have known. It was no mere coincidence Draco was literally the first mage his age he ever met. If only Draco hadn't been such a dick when they first met! They could have become friends right off the bat and maybe been together even sooner.

But instead of triumph, Harry felt utterly ashamed of himself for having ostracized Ron. He should have known Ron would never spy on him of his own free will. But Harry had fallen for Griphook's questionable conspiracy theory about Ron somehow engineering their meeting on the train, as well as, admittedly, the copious photographic evidence that made it look like Ron was a traitor. And as a result of that, he'd cast aside his best friend. Ron had been steadfastly loyal to him – going after the Stone, going to the Chamber of Secrets, putting himself between Harry and Sirius even with a broken leg – and how had Harry repaid that? With betrayal. Ron was a victim!

Draco didn't even bother to hide his smugness when he told Harry the truth. He had advised Harry against casting Ron out of their friend group, though his reasoning had been tactically motivated, not wanting Dumbledore to know they were onto him. Draco was extra unbearable when he was right. Unfortunately, since he was quite intelligent, that happened a lot.

Hermione wasn't feeling much better about her actions either. She was especially miffed because while on the outs, Ron had asked Daphne to the Yule Ball, thwarting her own plans to go with him. In Harry's opinion, she only had herself to blame. Hermione had led the charge against ostracizing Ron. True, it had been for a good cause, but Harry was starting to think Draco was right all along. Even if Ron was a willing spy, they should have pretended they didn't realize it in order to feed false information to Dumbledore. Harry had gone along with his gut inclination to punish the perceived betrayal, and their friendship was weaker for it. Sure, Ron had said nothing was wrong when he returned, but Harry could tell things would be strained between them.

Hermione had ended up asking Neville to the ball. She'd rejected Krum's invitation because she didn't feel comfortable going with someone his age. Krum had been gracious if stoic about the rejection. Harry was worried that Hermione might end up hurting Neville's feelings if she let her jealousy over Ron overwhelm her, so he'd asked Ginny to have a one on one chat with Hermione. He thought it might sound better coming from another girl. Also, Harry didn't really want to confront Hermione about such a sensitive matter. Too much risk, too little reward. Maybe that made him a coward, but as he told Luna, he'd rather face a dragon than an angry Hermione. He wasn't sure how the conversation had gone, but Hermione didn't seem too upset with Ginny, so it can't have gone that badly.

Harry was starting to get closer to Professor Moody and had told him everything they'd learned about Dumbledore so far. He had hesitated before bringing him into their little cabal, but everyone said he was a tireless champion of order and justice, and he'd been suspicious about Dumbledore in their earlier conversation. Professor Moody was surprisingly understanding and emphatic for such a paranoid man and seemed to believe them entirely.

Professor Moody suggested they try to assemble as much evidence as possible and get it to Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, who would be attending the Yule Ball to coordinate security. The Yule Ball was actually going to be turned into quite the spectacle, even more so than originally planned. Apparently, it was Crouch's idea to try and counteract the bad press the ministry was getting for Harry "putting his name in the Goblet." Harry couldn't help but snicker at hearing that.

It wasn't going to be easy to bring down Dumbledore, Harry knew, but it had to be done. The bastard had hurt his best friend, and that made it personal. Okay, it was already personal given that he'd sentenced Harry to a decade of hell. But that had been more of an error of bad judgment than an outright malicious attack. Subverting Ron, though, was a deliberate, methodical crime, and Harry would see Dumbledore suffer for it. Who knew what else the conniving old man had done? He wouldn't have put it past him to have killed the Dursleys. Heck, in his more paranoid moments, he wondered if Dumbledore had orchestrated some of the events of the last few years. It had seemed awfully suspicious, now that Harry thought about it, that the Stone was protected in such a way three first years could get to it.

In the meantime, Harry was determined to ask Draco out in a sensational manner. He had come up with a brilliant idea and though it had seemed far fetched and difficult to accomplish, Dobby had agreed to help them, and between the two of them, it suddenly turned out to be quite achievable. Harry had been worried Dobby would be reluctant in helping Harry court the son of his hated former master, but Dobby had been very excited about the prospect. Maybe that shouldn't have been all that surprising, since he'd been there for Draco growing up, but it had still come out of left field.

Everything was now in readiness and all that remained was to put his plan into effect. Unfortunately, it hit a snag almost immediately. "Why the hell are we in a girl's bathroom, Harry? Is this some kink of yours?"

Harry grimaced. "Eww. Stop being weird, Draco. No, this is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom." He had deliberately planned this for when Myrtle was busy haunting the prefect's bathroom. "Myrtle was the first and only person to die at the hands of the basilisk."

"The basilisk," Draco whispered, and then his eyes widened. "Wait, you're telling me this is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets?!"

"Sure is!" Harry said and strode over to the sink where the entrance was without a care in the world. He ordered it to open in Parseltongue. He turned around with a grin and looked at Draco, whose face was flushed a deep red.

"You sound really kinda, um…sexy when you hiss like that," Draco said, looking at the floor like he wanted to sink through it.

Harry winked at him. "Well, I'll just have to remember that, love," he said, saying the last word in Parseltongue. Draco let out an undignified squeak.

Harry decided he had teased Draco enough and went down the slide, screaming in joy all the while. Draco followed him, but his screams were of terror. Harry gestured grandly at the Chamber before him. "Ta-da!"

"Slytherin sure had a weird taste in decoration," Draco said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, Draco. I did this! Consider it a courting gift. I mean, eventually, it'll be for everyone, but for now, it's our hideout."

Dobby and Harry had combined their magic to completely renovate the Chamber of Secrets into a modern space. The end goal was creating a common space where all the houses could interact. It was galling there was no space in the castle for them to do that. As such, the décor was evenly split between the aesthetics of all the houses. There were all sorts of amenities, both mage and Muggle style. It included, but was definitely not limited to games like foosball, billiards, and bowling; a fitness center with magic powered devices meant to emulate exercise machines; and a large swimming pool. There was also supposed to be an entertainment system where people could watch Muggle movies and play video games, but they hadn't figured out how to get it to work in Hogwarts. Dobby had theorized it might be possible for runes to counteract the anti-electric effect of Hogwarts' magical field, but he wasn't quite sure how. Harry had decided to ask Professor Babbling for help when he went public with the space.

"This is…this is just astonishing," Draco said, looking around with wonder in his eyes. Harry couldn't keep a dumb looking grin off his face. "You did all this by yourself?"

"Uh, no," Harry admitted. "Dobby helped."

Draco's mouth dropped open. He lost his balance and almost fell down. "Dobby? My Dobby? The former Malfoy family elf?" Harry nodded. "But he's dead! Father said he killed him!"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Draco, but your father lied. I tricked him into freeing Dobby. Now Dobby works for Hogwarts."

"You tricked Father…" Draco said with wonderment, and then a huge grin came on his face. "Can I talk to him? I want to talk to him! Please, Harry! He was my best friend for so long, and then I lost him, and now he's back, and please."

Harry put some will into his voice and called for Dobby, who instantly appeared before him. Draco suddenly dropped to his knees and hugged the elf, tears streaming down his face. "Oh, Dobby, I missed you so much."

"Dobby missed Young Master Draco too," Dobby admitted bashfully. "Dobby was sad to leave Young Master Draco, but Bad Dark Wizard Malfoy was too cruel. He could not remain in the family."

"What did he do to you?" Draco asked, fury lining his voice.

Dobby shook his head. "Young Master Draco is better off not knowing." Harry shuddered. He could only imagine the things Lord Malfoy had done to the house elf to make a member of a species accustomed to bad treatment snap. "Dobby never hated Young Master Draco. Dobby is pleased Young Master Draco is listening to Mistress now. And Dobby approves of Young Master Draco's choice to court the Great Harry Potter."

There was suddenly a pair of rusty, sharp looking scissors in Dobby's hand. "But Young Master Draco should know this. If he ever hurts the Great Harry Potter, Dobby will rip off his balls and juggle them."

"You're…you're bluffing," Draco said, his face ashen.

"Dobby does not bluff," Dobby said piously, a cheerful grin on his face.

"Dobby isn't joking," Harry said, unable to keep a note of laughter out of his voice. "When I was in my second year, he broke my arm and stole my mail, and that was when he was trying to help."

Dobby patted a terrified looking Draco on the hand. "There, there. So long as he behaves himself, Young Master Draco has nothing to fear."

"Dobby, if something…happened to my father, would you ever consider returning to our family's service?" Draco wondered. Harry winced. It was an unspoken but open secret between the two of them that Lady Malfoy was going to kill Lord Malfoy, probably sooner than later. It must have really hurt Draco to say it aloud.

Dobby was silent for a while. "Dobby is a free elf. Dobby works for pay now." Draco had an expression of pure confusion on his face and cast a look at Harry, who just shrugged. "But Dobby would be happy to work for Mistress if she pays him. Mistress always respected Dobby. She is a worthy Malfoy, not like her rotten husband."

"Am I a worthy Malfoy, Dobby?" Draco asked, sounding more vulnerable than Harry had ever heard him.

"Young Master Draco has always been a worthy Malfoy. And now he is showing it instead of letting his bad father control him."

"Thank you," Draco said as he wiped a tear off his cheek.

Dobby was suddenly right in front of Draco. "Dobby is watching. Dobby is always watching. Remember what Dobby told you." He snapped his fingers and was gone.

There was an awkward silence in the room. Harry cleared his throat. It was time. Now or never. He had faced a dragon down. He knew Draco was going to say yes. What was there to be worried about? Okay, plenty, but still, it was time to charge ahead like a true Gryffindor. "Heir Draco Lucius Malfoy, I, Lord Hadrian Jameson Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Emrys…" Draco looked more and more weirded out with each name Harry listed. "…do hereby desire to formally engage you in courtship."

"Sorry?"

"Will you be my boyfriend, Draco?" Harry translated. "And will you go with me to the Yule Ball?"

Draco, the smarmy git, kept him in suspense before the better part of a minute before nodding. "Yeah. Thought you'd never get around to asking."

"You remember when you ratted us out first year?" Harry asked. Draco looked bewildered. "Well, it took four years…but I finally caught the snitch."

Draco stared at him. "Oh my God, you are such an idiot."

"But I'm the idiot you like," Harry said in a sing-song voice.

"Just shut up and snog me already."

And Harry did just that.