Catch 22 (Harry/Draco)

Well, In That Case

Ron laughs softly, coming over to sit beside Harry on the bed, shaking his head. 'You've been alternating between pacing the common room and sitting on that windowsill for a week and you're trying to tell me that you're fine? We've been mates for seven years, Harry. Give me some credit, will you?'

Harry frowns, furrowing his brow, and sighs heavily. He sags sideways against Ron. 'Sorry. You're right. I do give you credit, I'm just an idiot. You should know that,' he points out. 'Seven years and all.'

'Mm,' Ron agrees, taking his weight without moving away. 'But then, I would have said I knew you well enough to swear my life that you would never, ever have anything to do with that git Malfoy, aside from beating his face in, too.' Harry stiffens again. But he's leaning against Ron now, and Ron notices. Before Harry can say anything, Ron continues quickly, 'It's all right. I'm not going to flip my lid or anything.'

Harry relaxes once more, then lets out a bit of a groan. 'I'm sorry. I should have told you.'

'Maybe,' Ron says, shrugging. 'But if you had before Hermione stuck me to the armchair and lectured my brains out over it, I might have wigged out a bit.'

'A bit?' Harry asks, incredulous.

'A very large bit,' Ron admits. 'Anyway, mate—look. What you do on your own time is your thing. I guess I'm more worried he's got an ulterior motive or something. I mean, if he—'

Harry snorts, interrupting him. 'Is this where you're going to threaten to kill him if he breaks my heart?'

'Kill him? Merlin, no,' Ron says, shaking his head. 'I was thinking more along the lines of castration. Slowly. While he's conscious.'

'Oh, Won-won,' Harry mocks in his most coquettish tone, 'my hero.'

'Shove off,' Ron manages. 'Bloody queer,' he adds, though not unkindly. In fact, he's grinning rather stupidly. 'I mean—Malfoy, okay, he practically screams ponce, but you—' he shakes his head, '—I have to say I never saw it coming. And I think you've just destroyed the fantasies of half the girls in our year.'

'Have you seen half the girls in our year?' Harry gives a derisive snort. 'I consider that a perk.'

Ron smirks at that. 'Ginny's not taking it so badly,' he says. 'I think Hermione had a word with her, too. Good girl, that Hermione. But Romilda Vane was beside herself.'

Harry shudders, sitting up. 'Ugh, spare me. I'll never eat another bloody Cauldron Cake as long as I live.'

'And, um, the other reason I came up here,' Ron says, biting his lip. 'I sort of—well—after Hermione told me everything she knew, and practically made me swear an Unbreakable Vow not to kill him—I sort of... went to see him.'

Harry gapes at him. 'You went to see Malfoy?'

'It wasn't easy,' Ron says, wrinkling his nose. 'Hermione had to lure Zabini away, he's been pretty much living in the Hospital Wing. Even Madam Pomfrey's given up on telling him to get lost. I guess we'd be the same if it was you,' he admits, shrugging. 'But, yeah, I guess I had to prove to myself it was true, and I was worried if I came to see you first, we'd get into a row. I didn't care if I got into a row with Malfoy, 'cause he's a prat anyway.'

Harry stares at him, ignoring the insult, leaning in as he waits for him to continue. 'And?'

'Well,' Ron says, shrugging. 'He wasn't very happy to see me.'

'I would've guessed as much.'

'And I told him he was lucky I didn't regrind his organs into mush—'