A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Twenty-Two

"No, no," Ron shakes his head bouncing on his heels. "Just your...self."

There's a spare moment of silence and Ron closes his eyes, purses his lips and kills himself in his head ten thousand times.

But then Blaise laughs and Ron opens his eyes to see him covering his mouth cutely. Ron chuckles. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually this awkward."

"I know," Blaise grins. "I'll see you in detention."

"Bye," Ron whispers. He waits until the door clicks this time, and until he hears footsteps dying at the end of the hall before jumping and whooping in the air.

I made him laugh, Ron thinks. It's going to be a good day.

Ron gets ready in record time and still has time to make his bed. Ron never bothered to learn the simple tending spell, his mum preferred he learned the hard way first and he assumes it's just stuck with him.

When he goes down to the Common Room, Hermione is already sitting on the love seat with a book her lap as always, as if she wasn't gone for the last few weeks.

"Hey," he breathes out, smiling toothily when she looks up at him.

"Well, someone's in a good mood."

"Yeah," Ron stretches, patting his chest. "I feel good. Really good. Ready for today."

Hermione's eyebrows disappear into her hairline and she closes her book. "Alright. Breakfast?"

*******

Evaluation.

Draco can cringe at the word as it crosses his mind.

He does cringe, however, at the conversation he had with Harry and Madame Pomfrey about an hour and a half ago.

The reason the Medical Wing is so quiet.

"He needs to be Evaluated, it's the only way they'll let him stay in the castle," Madame Pomfrey had said, her eyes big and round and worried.

"Evaluated," Draco questioned with indignant fury. "Evaluated?"

"Yes."

"Are you understanding the words that are coming out of your mouth, woman?"

Harry, who had been silent the entirety of Madame Pomfrey's explanation, straightened up at that, his brows downcast and thoughtful. "Hey..."

"It's alright, Harry," she had smiled at him. But Draco was twitching with anger. His fingers were tingling and his jaw was clenched so hard it had started to hurt.

"You are speaking of Advanced Magical Tactics. They are not merciful, I guarantee you that. And I should know," Draco spat sourly, his face pinched in disgust. "I was Evaluated a few times during my trials."

"It's the only way. They're just taking precautions, Mr. Malfoy, it's what they do."

"What they do," Draco had laughed manically, then. Because, no.

That is not what the Ministry does.

The Ministry is filled with unintelligent barmy toads that can not tell the difference between a scared kid and a murderer.

"What they do," Draco's voice deepened with emotion. "Is they tear people apart. For their own enjoyment. And I will not allow that to happen again."

Draco ignored Harry's little mumbled, "Again?"

But Madame Pomfrey's eyes grew sad. "My dear boy, I am sorry. But Mr. Potter cannot continue his recovery in here if it is not done. And with your particular situation..."