'He can't,' Harry corrected, taking Ron by the back of the shirt. 'I need him for something else at the moment.'
Ginny made a face. 'Have it your way,' she said, yanked the cellar door open, and stomped loudly down the stairs.
Harry looked after her, and then back at Ron, a quizzical expression on his face. 'She seems…different lately. Don't you think?'
'Maybe,' hedged Ron. 'Harry, you're getting dirt clods on my shirt.'
'Oh. Sorry. Here, come on upstairs with me.'
'I can't believe you're taking notes on what I'm telling you.'
'Well, you never know what will turn out to be important, do you?'
Hermione glanced up at Draco and smiled, tucking a wayward tendril of hair behind her ear. 'I can't believe you talked to the Founders. In person. You're like… history on legs now.'
Draco looked mournful. 'I'd rather be sex appeal on legs.'
'History is a very sexy subject.'
'Which is why Professor Binns is just hell on wheels with the ladies down at the Three Broomsticks.'
'Professor Binns is dead, Draco.'
'So was I, yesterday.'
'Show-off.' Hermione's smile took the sting out of her words. She bit the end of her quill and regarded Draco thoughtfully. Draco himself was sitting on the bed, knees drawn up, his hands looped around them. Hermione was leaning forward in her chair, notebook propped open against his legs. 'Now you're sure that what Rowena said to you was that you need the Heirs, and their Keys.'
'Yes. Does that mean something to you?'
'Not yet, it doesn't. Well, maybe. I don't know what the other Keys are, but I suspect the Lycanthe is one. I need to finish that book about the Founders, and I'll get Sirius to bring me Slytherin's diary.
Somewhere, there's an explanation.'
In the face of Hermione's energy and enthusiasm, Draco suddenly felt unutterably tired. He yawned, sliding down under the covers.
'Are you meant to stay with me while I'm sleeping, as well?'
'I will if you like. Although I think it's about time for Ron's turn.'
'Ron? Doesn't having saved my life exempt him from sickbed duty?'
Hermione smiled. 'Technically, yes, but we thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to talk.'
Draco groaned and pulled the covers over his head. 'This is a setup.'
'Maybe,' said Hermione severely. 'But if we're all going to work together, and I think we have to, then it's best if we all get along.'
'Maybe Weasley and I are perfectly happy hating each other.'
Hermione looked at him severely. 'Ron is not a hateful person,' she said. 'He does not want to hate you, or anybody. He's basically the sweetest person you could ever hope to meet.'
At that moment, Ron's voice in the corridor became audible. 'Why do I have to sit with the malingering bastard?' he was demanding loudly of an unseen companion, probably Harry. 'You know I hate his miserable pureblooded guts.'
'He's not malingering,' came another voice-Harry's- sounding amused.
'Well, if he's really ill a visit from me might push him right over the edge. I suppose that's something to hope for.'
'Come on, Ron, don't you want your apology?'
'He's not going to apologize to me!'
'Bet he will.'
'Bet he won't.'
Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. 'We can hear everything you're saying!' she shouted at the top of her lungs.
There was a short silence. Then the door opened, and an unseen hand (Harry's) shoved Ron into the room, and slammed the door behind him. Ron, his hair wildly messy, glared at Draco and Hermione with the jumpy expression of a cat set loose in a room full of rocking chairs. 'What?' he demanded, somewhat belligerently.
Hermione looked at him composedly. 'Ron, nobody said anything.'
'Good,' said Ron.
Hermione turned to Draco. 'Don't you have something to say to Ron?'
There was a short silence. Draco took a deep breath, and said, 'Come here, Weasley.'
Ron inched reluctantly across the room until he stood about a foot from the end of Draco's bed.
'Weasley,' said Draco, looking as if ever word was being dragged out of him with a fishhook, 'I, uh, I know that I haven't always been the easiest guy to get along with. And I know that in an ideal world, you would never have chosen me for a friend, or me you, for that matter. But given what you've done for me, and everything we've been through lately, I just wanted to say that I've come to regard you as someone…as someone…someone that I've met.'
