A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Nine

Blaise is walking down the third floor corridor the next week, on his way to Care of Magical Creatures, when there's a sudden hand gripping the front of his robes and yanking him under the nearest velvet curtain.

Blaise flicks out his wand in record time, a reflex now, his robe clinging onto the edges of the moist bricks and his chest rising rapidly. He's even more shocked when he recognizes a pair of blue eyes staring right into his own that he becomes paralyzed.

"Where have you been?"

Ron has a wrinkle between his orange brows and his hand is now tightly clutching Blaise's tie.

"I," Blaise stops, looks up to Ron's eyes, then back down to Ron's hand. "What?"

Blaise can't concentrate on what Ron is saying because he can feel the rest of Ron's arm laying heavily on his chest and he feels something keen to fear or adrenaline. He can't tell the difference. He lowers his wand and tucks it into his sleeve, goes to take Ron's wrist.

"Malfoy has been coming and going from the library and you've just gone."

"I've been...busy. I have matters..."

Ron raises a single brow. "To tend to?"

"Could you," Blaise swallows dryly. "Remove yourself?"

The Gryffindor gives him an odd look but lays off nonetheless. He waits for Blaise to straighten out his robes and then clenches his jaw. "I understand if you don't want to help me find Harry or Hermione. I just...I thought things would be different."

Blaise sees his opportunity to get an explanation. "Is that why you've been civil towards us?"

Ron studies him for a spare moment. He looks down at his hands. "Last year, when we went away, most of the time Harry and 'Mione were reading, and I'd just be doing nothing. Well, I'd think. A lot. And this war...it's changed us, you know? We're not the same people we used to be.

"We were forced to grow up and fight a battle that could have been avoided. We're not different at all, we just have different beliefs. Whether you came from two wizards or not, our blood is still the same color. I know that now. And, you and I aren't different at all, we happened to be the best friends of two buffoons who, like it or not, like to throw themselves in the face of danger."

Ron looks up from his hands to see Blaise is staring at the floor. "When did you become so wise?"

And Ron laughs. He laughs and it's soft and deep and real, Blaise has to look up to make sure it is. Because it's been a while since he's seen someone genuinely smile. "I guess you have to go through a bunch of bullocks to know what you already have is worth fighting for."

"What are you fighting for?"

Ron grins, and Blaise doesn't feel the need to run away. "Come on."

Blaise wants to ask what he means, wants to hear Ron answer the question. But Ron's already taken a hold of his arm and dragging him down the corridor again.

"Where are we going?"

"Library."

"But I have Care of Magical Creatures!"

"Hagrid won't mind."

Blaise rolls his eyes but doesn't move to release his arm from Ron's hold. "You Gryffindors might not care about your marks, but the rest of us would like to graduate with a spotless record."

He hears Ron snort. "Hagrid doesn't take attendance, he really just likes to talk to whoever will listen about his pets."

There's a couple of Hufflepuffs in the corridor whose jaws have dropped from seeing a Slytherin being manhandled by one third of the Golden Trio. Blaise finds their expressions amusing, and he lets himself be hauled the rest of the way with a smug grin on his face.