OO um…omg…Look to the end for a proper A/N

Sorry for Such a delay…3 and a half years…my writing has gotten better. I promise.

Queries, Quips, and Quidditch, OH MY!

Friday seemed to appear out of nowhere. Classes were winding down, everyone getting ready for the Christmas break. The last Quidditch match of that term was between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and every single person in school was on edge because of it.

The anticipation was practically tangible that Friday evening as the stands began to fill up with eager spectators.

Ron sat silently in the locker room, still trying to tug his quidditch gear on and not look too nervous. The others were frantically running around rambling of plays and passes under their breath as they threw on their own pads. There was a small tussle earlier when Seamus demanded that the kneepads Dean had on were his. Harry quickly interjected and helped the frazzled Seamus find his missing knee and shin guards.

Ron had not spoken to Harry in normal conversation since the classroom incident. Just being around him made Ron uneasy. Harry also seemed to be set on something, and that included not making eye contact or directly speaking to Ron.

Harry called everyone to the main area of their locker room and began to go over the plans for that evening's game. It was extremely foggy and they would use that to their advantage as much as possible.

When Harry began going through plays that didn't even concern him, Ron found himself drifting off into an uneasy daydream-type word until he was jostled by Ginny when the team was lining up. He smiled inwardly and pushed the foreboding feeling he had in the pit of his stomach as far away as possible.

It was still a Quidditch game after all…

And he needed his wits about him…

Not to mention he'd get to see Draco. Maybe that pesky feeling was just nervous butterflies.

He hoped they were anyway.

The quidditch field was covered in a thick layer of fog that seemed to settle about 4 feet above the ground and drifted lazily towards the sky.

Ron mused to himself that it looked like clouds had descended upon the field.

Grinning, he and the others mounted their brooms and rushed out to meet their opposing team and start the second most anticipated event of the school year.

Ron drifted lazily be the goal posts, bored out of his mind. The fog made impossible to see clearly and thus mad the game move at such a slow pace that he was about to fall asleep on his broomstick.

There had been only one goal scored, and that was of course for the Gryffindor team. Ron had had to stop the quaffle from scoring in he Gryffindor posts maybe twice.

It was going to be a loooong game.

Ron sighed and listened to the game and the crowd cheering as if they saw each move clear as day. A few probably could.

He wondered how Draco and Harry were fairing against the fog in their quest to find the snitch.

A loud cheer erupted and he heard the announcer commenting on a spectacular save by the Slytherin goalie. Maybe, Ron thought, the fog was thinner near that end of the field…

He was straining to hear more of the commentary and didn't notice the figure slowing drifting towards him in the fog.

After a sharp poke in his side, Ron found himself nearly having to scramble back onto his broom.

Draco chuckled.

"What the hell was that for!" Ron snapped angrily, swiveling around to face the now completely platinum blonde Slytherin.

"Just messing around." Draco said with a wide sneer.

"Well, stop! People can still see over here!" Ron cast his gaze around frantically to see if anyone was emerging from the fog with a camera.

"Stop being paranoid Weasley." Draco drawled. Ron turned to look at him and saw his trademark condescending sneer plastered across his pale face. "Even if they did see us, I guarantee you they can't hear us." He snickered. "For all they know, I'm just doing my normal amount of Weasley annoying."

Ron rolled his eyes and decided to look like he was ignoring the Slytherin beside him.

"Stop being such a grouch!" Draco laughed as he circled Ron lazily. He was sure that anyone who was able to see them thought he was only antagonizing an opposing teammate.

Ron scoffed. "Aren't you and Harry supposed to find the snitch?"

"What of it?"

"One of you best find it quick…I don't want to be here all bloody day!"

"Oh, then I'll let Potter drift around until he finds it."

"And why's that?"

"So I can bug you mercilessly and maybe aid in the scoring against you."

Ron laughed. "And how are you planning to do that?"

"Oh I don't know." He looked thoughtful for a long moment then smiled wickedly. "I could talk about all the things I want to do to you." He leered at Ron.

Ron felt his insides turn to mush, a flush spreading it's way across his face, and he was sure it was the face of a rather surprised by turned on teenage. He cleared his throat and looked away from Draco's piercing stare.

"Oh come now Weasley," Draco drawled in his natural haughty voice. "I know you were hoping I'd say something like that."

Ron gulped and felt Draco drift closer as the wind shifter the fog momentarily and hid them more from view.

Draco brushed his shoulder against Ron's and the redhead turned to look at the Slytherin. Draco brushed his lips across Ron's in a chaste, quick kiss before slightly kicked away, smiling. The Fog receded and Ron could see more of the field farther down. His blush burned his cold face and he turned to look at Draco, who only had that "Promises of things yet to come," look on his face. And Ronald Weasley, lover of all things Quidditch, wished that this match was over and done with so he could go and have his way with the pale Slytherin.

Just as Ron opened his mouth to say something that would MAYBE get him to stop blushing, he found himself nearly minus an eye as a glittering gold blur streaked towards him.

"The snitch!" laughed Draco and without another word, he took off after it.

Ron watched him disappear briefly into the fog and was surprised when Harry seemed to follow quickly behind him.

Where on earth did he come from…Ron's eyes widened. Oh Gods…

Ron's heart leapt into his throat as he watched Harry disappear behind Draco. He couldn't have been…Could he? Ron felt himself panic and tried to stay on his broom, watching the fog for attacking Slytherins. But his hands shook and that foreboding feeling exploded in the pit of his stomach. This was bad.

He could hear cheers suddenly and as they grew louder, so did the announcer, yelling that both seekers were weaving in and out of the fog closing in on the snitch every second. Ron prayed no one got hurt.

He was about to scream from anticipation when the crowd around him erupted in equally shocked gasps and screams. Oh Gods! Ron thought again when he saw, through a thin patch of fog, an unmoving Draco plummeting down to the earth below, his broom no where in sight.

The announcer was yelling for help, and Ron started forward only to be stopped by a blur of red emerging from the clouds holding a golden ball which beat frantically at his hands. Harry glared at Ron for a brief moment before looking down where Draco had been falling and smiling smugly up at Ron.

"BASTARD!" Ron screamed and streaked by him, racing towards the ground. He prayed to any deity who was listening that Draco would be alright.

While Draco fell hard and fell fast, Madame hooch seemed to be on top of her game that foggy day. With a yell that was nearly eaten by the fog, Draco glowed brightly for only a second, slowing slightly, then all light was gone and he hit the ground with such a sickening crunch that Ron felt ready to vomit.

His broom sent him bulleting towards the prone Slytherin, a few teachers and Madame Hooch already gathered around, sending for Pomfrey and a stretcher.

His feet hadn't even hit the ground before he had leapt from his broom, letting it slide lazily to the ground behind him as he raced towards the teachers. When he slid to halt, the slippery ground making him loose his balance and waver dangerously to one side, he was cast only a small glance from the teachers.

Draco lay there, the moisture from the fog beading across his pale face and soaking through his robs…

Like the snow did that night…Ron thought pathetically.

His chest was moving slowly, but his breathing was still shallow and Ron was sure that every time he exhaled, the blood blossoming from his nose gushed harder.

Rage filled him. A rage that he had never known he was capable of.

Other players were now rushing to the ground, landing with muffled thumps as each team stayed a good distance from each other.

Ron stood by Draco's side as they were finally getting him on a stretcher. Hushed voices, worried about his state were enveloped by the fog as they left the field, leaving Ron wanting to follow, but knowing he couldn't.

A shaky voice announced over the dreary afternoon that Gryffindor had caught the Snitch and had won. The match was over. The faint sound of scuffling feet, and hollow steps were heard as the students filed out from the bleachers.

But the players stayed on the field.

The Slytherins stared across the short expanse of field at the Gryffindors.

Everyone knew what had happened. No one was stupid.

Ron could see the fighting and the anger in every Slytherin's eyes and he was never more thankful to see a teacher than he was when McGonagall appeared from the earthly clouds to pointedly shoo off the teams. Everyone hesitated then slowly made their way back to their respective locker rooms. There was no whooping, no hollering, no congratulations.

Nothing.

Only an emptiness that grew with each squishy step, until not even the sound of their brooms clacking against their Quidditch gear could be heard over the roaring silence.

As the locker rooms door was swung wide open and the team strutted in, the bustle began, shattering that heavy silence as though someone had chucked a stone through glass.

At first it started as soft wondering, then grew to certain parts of the battle over the quaffle, then soon how Harry had so quite obviously triumphed over the bane of the Gryffindors, Draco Malfoy.

Ron sat numbly on his bench, staring into his locker and trying to drown out the voices around him.

Had Harry done it because it was part of his and Draco's ongoing superiority battle, or had Harry done it for another reason…

Harry shot from the fog, relatively close by…

Ron screwed his eyes shut trying not to think that his friend, though rocky as they still were, could have done that out of spite or hatred.

He had sat there for so long, numbly nodding or smiling whenever someone clapped him on the back for his few saves, or offered him a congratulations on a good game, that he hadn't even noticed that the voices of triumph had died away, and he was alone.

Well, he thought he was alone.

"You know it'll never last." That glorious, deafening silence was shattered prematurely yet again.

Ron felt heat rise to his face, his fist clenching as he realized that Harry HAD done it out of hate…or spite…or something else. He had heard them and seen them.

He had done it on purpose.

Ron didn't grace him with so much as a glance over his shoulder. He ignored him, finally feeling the lead in his limbs tumble out, allowing his the ability to start stripping off his pads and cleats.

"Did you hear me?" the was a scoff behind him. Harry was intent on getting under his skin, but why?

Ron was standing now, pulling on a clean shirt and debating on pants. Deciding on not wanting to wear the wet quidditch trousers any longer than he had to, he shimmied out of them and pulled on a pair of corduroy slacks.

Still ignoring you.

And that was enough to send Harry fuming. With only a few heavy steps, Harry had reached Ron and grabbing his shoulders, Harry forced the redhead to turn around then promptly…painfully…pinned him against the lockers.

Ron hissed in both surprise and pain. A lock was jammed into his lower back quite uncomfortably.

"Talk to me Ron!" Harry said with another push.

Ron looked up, his eyebrows knitted together. But still he said nothing. He knew if he did, he knew if he got into this conversation, this fight, he'd regret it.

Or make Harry regret it.

"You know he's only using you. He's a Malfoy." Harry shook him, growling, anger flaring in his eyes along with something else, smoldering in the depths, laughing at Ron who had never seen it.

"You're just jealous." Whispered Ron, his voice not nearly as cold or angry as he had thought it would be, just surprised.

"What? Jealous? Why the fuck would I be jealous?" Harry glowered now, his fingers digging painfully into Ron's arm. "I'm no more jealous than you are intelligent or popular." Ron felt like crying at that. This wasn't Harry that had a hold of him. This was something evil dressed in Harry's skin…it had to be…Harry had never been so cruel.

Well…then there was that incident weeks ago…it still lingered between them like an infection…bad blood and all that.

Ron's eyes narrowed as he tried to shift his weight and throw off Harry…even a little bit. His grip hurt and it was putting Ron in a fouler and fouler mood.

"Come on Ron. Don't you have anything to say!" Harry's eyes were bright. "My god you must be stupid if you think he really cares about you!" Ron's composure started cracking, small hairline fractures spiderwebbing across one another, weakening. "You're just on rebound Ron, how could you be desperate enough to crawl to Malfoy?"

"Draco." He whispered.

"What did you say?" Harry blinked, a small bit of that anger and resentment was gone, and the confused Harry peeked through.

"His name is Draco."

Ron had had enough.

Harry was vaguely aware of Ron's shifting, but didn't have time to process what was going on until a fist connected squarely with his jaw, breaking his hold on Ron and sending him staggering back.

"What the hell?" Harry started, but was cut off as both palms of Ron's hands connected solidly with his chest, sending him flailing back and over a far bench to land on his ass, propped against the lockers. He was muttering to himself as he tried to stand.

"Shut it." Ron said, and there was something in his voice that told Harry he had better do as he was told.

Harry flushed in embarrassment.

"How DARE you come in here after doing what you did and trying to tell me what is best for me." A chair went flying out of his way as Ron came to it, his knuckles white on the legs of it as he hurled it across the room, shattering one of the mirrors over the locker rooms basins. He stood, no loomed over Harry who now refused to look at him.

"How dare you think that you know what's going on, and that you know better. Fuck you Harry potter." Harry flinched and finally looked up. His head was swimming. Shame, and anger, and embarrassment paling in comparison to the hurt and betrayal that emanated from Ron. "I know we have our rough times, and this last one sucked a heap, but like I told you that night, I will always be your friend…" Something ghosted over Ron's face, dark and shadowy, then it was gone and Ron looked sad. "…would have always been your friend."

Harry felt horrible.

"I don't know why you did what you did-actually, I'll bet I do." he started coldly, turning towards the locker room doors. "But you can bet I don't care anymore." His fists clenched so tightly at his sides that Harry was sure there would drops of blood at any moment. "I don't know you anymore." He said not making eye contact. "I love Draco. Don't ever doubt that for a minute. And if you ever so much as lay a finger on him again, I'll make sure you're eating through a tube for the rest of your life."

Ron felt cold. He had been angry at Harry many times before, and he had hated Harry and not trusted Harry…But every time, and this would have been one of those times, it fixed itself. Harry showed he could be trusted and that he was being just as much a hardhead as Ron was being. But this was different.

The rift had grown too big.

Harry wanted too much—Ron could see that now, but it was too late to address.

So here they were: Harry sprawled on the floor, embarrassed and ashamed of what he still felt for Ron and for what he had done to him, and to their friendship. And Ron standing stark still, staring at the door and fighting back angry tears as he practically disowned the first true friend he had ever had.

The rift was too great to jump this time.

And it seemed, each standing on either side, that neither of them wanted to try.

Ron left silently, the sound of the door clicking shut the only thing Harry had heard from his exit and he strained to listen to the muffled footfalls of his once friend as they echoed down the cement hallway.

Oh the tangled webs we weave…

A/N

Um…hey guys…I love you. So don't hurt me. Really. I fell out of love/obsession with the Potterverse for a while cause of school, college, and other various happenings. There was someone just yesterday and today that faved stories and then went out of her way and e-mailed me… JaceDamian23…thank you. I had not heard from anyone about this story since…like…2006…and I just kinda left it at that…But the email and review had me kinda wanting to write it again. Not cause I have an overwhelming obsession with Harry Potter again…tho the book is soon to come…but because my writing has changed a lot and I am happier with it. I also miss writing. I've been drawing more often than not…check out my stuff. I'm Goldbryn on DeviantArt and I love to hear what people think about my art.

I hope this has made some of you very happy.

I hope!

Please review this new chapter so I know how it went over with the populace. And…The next chapter is sitting RIGHT there in mah noodle…lemme know if ya liked it and I might be willin to keep this up.

Thanks again or all those who reviewed, faved me and the story, and are watching.

It's cause of you that I love what I do - and that I come back!