By the time Harry finally pushed his way back into the Gryffindor Common Room, he was exhausted to the point of collapse. The adrenaline that had caused his earlier restlessness had now spent itself completely, leaving him utterly sapped of energy. No thought crossed his mind other than the single purpose of climbing the stairs to the dormitory and sinking into peaceful oblivion.
The common room wasn't empty.
"Harry," called Ron softly, from one of the best chairs by the hearth. It was clear that he'd been waiting up, alone, in hopes of talking to Harry. Ron had probably been seen his best friend slipping out of bed, had probably been sitting in that very spot since Harry had left the Tower for the Owlery.
Harry smiled at his friend, and ambled sleepily over to join him.
"Harry, I'm sorry," began Ron.
Harry rumpled his forehead. The day was such a blur, he couldn't even sort out why he was supposed to be angry with his friend.
Ron clearly read the confusion on Harry's face. "About making that stupid wager," he explained. "About having all the wrong assumptions about you." Ron looked away, clearly having spent the entire evening berating himself until he had reached a new level of self-reproach.
Harry shook his head, smiling. "Don't be sorry, mate. It's not like I gave you any great clues, I mean, I only ever told you about Cho ... well, I mean, that's all there really was before ... that I realized, anyway ....." He trailed off into the awkward silence.
"Yeah." Ron looked Harry directly in the eye. "You could have, though."
"If I'd known, I could have. No harm done, though."
Ron snorted. "Easy for you to say."
"Yes, well." Harry smiled gently. "Just remember to check with your girlfriend next time before you make any bets about people."
Ron covered his eyes in surrender. "She wasn't my girlfriend, then."
Harry laughed softly at his friend's embarrassment.
"But she did already know." Harry faltered nervously as he spoke the words. He still wasn't used to saying them out loud. "About me, I mean."
The blue eyes looked up sharply. "You told Hermione over a year before you told me?" Ron's voice turned bitter as his gaze moved to the flames. "Well, I can't say I blame you..." His tone belied his words.
"No!" Harry interrupted. "I told Hermione yesterday. I only figured it out for myself just before I told her, remember? I said so at dinner."
"Yeah," agreed Ron with a shrug. "Then how -?"
Harry shot his friend a look, causing Ron to break into a smile before he was done.
"She's several steps ahead of us both, once again, isn't she?"
Harry nodded, smiling at a myriad of memories from the past seven years. "As always."
The boys shared a chuckle over their own inability to see, and over Hermione knowing the truth so long before either of them had.
After a moment, Ron's mirth faded out. His expression grew sincere.
"It's great, though, Harry. I mean, I'm glad for you."
"Thanks, Ron."
Ron let out a shaky laugh. "And I'm glad you weren't dreaming about Hermione."
Harry echoed the sound. "Me, too."
Ron regarded Harry very seriously. "Harry, I had no right to accuse you. I know you wouldn't have tried to get between Hermione and me."
"Forget it, Ron. I understand."
A glimmer of a grateful smile crossed the other boy's face. Harry returned it, making it clear that no apology was necessary.
Harry had been annoyed with Ron's insistence in the afternoon, but there was no point in drawing out that argument now. Harry knew how besotted Ron was with Hermione, and how unconvinced he was of his own worth. If Ron could only see himself the way his two best friends did, he would never have needed to suspect that Hermione had been in Harry's dreams.
Harry knew Ron better, though. He hadn't really meant his accusations, but had simply been powerless not to put a voice to his deepest fears.
The fire crackled softly, sending shifting shadows across the boys' faces as they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.
"So, are you going to tell me?"
Harry snapped out of his reverie. "Tell you what?"
"Who was in your dreams?"
The eyebrow waggle had returned. Harry let out a long, slow breath. He wasn't any more amused than he had been hours earlier.
"Who says anyone was?"
Ron scoffed. "Your guilty face, for one. For another, how about the way you reacted when I asked you about your dream? Remember? You didn't say 'I wasn't dreaming about anyone.' You said, 'that's probably not even who it is.'"
Harry summoned a chuckle that came out more nervous than nonchalant. "Just because my subconscious is coughing up random wizards doesn't mean that I actually fancy anyone."
Ron met Harry's argument with silence. When Harry looked over, he found the blue irises narrowed in bitterness.
"You could tell me, you know. I'd understand." The tone of Ron's voice was as dark as the sky outside.
All the air went out of Harry's lungs. He hated to see Ron disappointed, but there was no way he knew what he was asking.
"I'd tell you, Ron," he muttered, unable to look his best mate in the eyes.
Both boys were silent for a very long moment. The lack of words between them started to ring in Harry's ears. He wanted desperately to be able to be honest with his best mate, but couldn't begin to imagine telling Ron that he apparently fancied the one student who had been the nastiest, the most cruel, out of any student in all of Hogwarts, toward Ron, Ron's girlfriend, and the rest of the Weasley family.
Harry became aware that Ron had inhaled deeply, as if steeling himself.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
Ron remained silent, looking at Harry as though holding back a mouthful of water.
"What is it, Ron?"
Harry searched his best friend's gaze, trying to understand the reason for his sudden discomfort. Was it possible that he knew?
Ron dropped his eyes to the rug. "Look, I just wanted to say ... Harry, it's okay if it's me. I mean, that's not how I feel, but it wouldn't be weird or anything."
Harry looked up into his best friend's blue eyes, and in that moment, saw him as if for the first time. What had he been thinking?
Malfoy? He had to be mad. The kiss had been amazing, sure, but that didn't mean they were meant to be together! Maybe it had only happened so Harry could realise his own orientation.
What he really wanted - needed - had been right here in front of him all along.
Harry flashed back on Ron's last sentence. On the part where he'd said "That's not how I feel."
Oh, no. Now what?
Ron's blue eyes were still boring into him. The unanswered question hung in the air between them.
Harry couldn't tell him.
He looked away, unable to meet Ron's eyes as he lied. "It isn't you, Ron."
Another silence fell. Harry could hear his own heartbeat, and Ron's quietly agitated breathing.
"Okay." The blue eyes stayed fixed to the floor. "So, what's the problem then?"
The outburst in response surprised both of them: "I never said there was one!"
Ron recoiled a bit at the exasperation in Harry's voice, then regrouped quickly for a counterattack.
"But you won't tell me?"
"I can't, okay?"
Merlin, he couldn't tell him! How was he supposed to say, 'Only joking, I lied, it really is you'?
Ron was staring at him as if struck. Harry's heart was breaking to see it. He couldn't take this out on Ron, no matter how disappointed he was. It was his own fault.
"Alright, maybe there is someone," he continued. "But I'm not ready to talk about it yet."
Harry had expected the silence this time, but it wasn't any easier. He was relieved that Ron was so supportive of his orientation, but why did he have to be so insistent about knowing who was in Harry's dreams?
"Fine," came the barely audible reply.
Harry had never heard his best friend sound so bitter, at least not since the horrible weeks before the First Task, over three years ago. He also noticed that Ron hadn't looked at him in several minutes.
"Ron... you're not... jealous?"
"No!" Ron let out a single snort of cynical laughter. "Maybe. Sort of." He finally raised his eyes to meet Harry's. "I mean, I'm your best mate, right? But there's some other bloke you care about more?"
No!
Harry was impressed. Hermione's jab about Ron having the 'emotional range of a teaspoon' didn't seem to hold true anymore. He still didn't express his emotions very often, other than anger and outrage, but they were obviously there, and obviously real.
Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. It never ceased to astonish him, even after all they'd endured together, how true and constant a friend Ron really was. Harry had no idea how he could even deserve such a friendship, but he was deeply grateful to have it.
He tried to convince himself that he didn't need anything more.
"I still care about you the most, Ron. You mean more to me than anything."
Ron blinked and looked away. What was wrong? Didn't he believe what Harry had said?
"Ron?"
Ron's eyes turned back to Harry's, fixing there. They were wide, and dark, and very sad.
"Harry, I'm sorry."
"What? No, there's no need. You're the best mate anyone's ever had. You - Ron, what's wrong?"
The blue eyes had started to water, and had blinked and turned away. Ron's shoulders were hunched and rigid.
"Ron?"
"I'm sorry, Harry. I should have told you."
"Told me what?"
Ron looked at Harry again, his eyes now rimmed with red.
"I didn't mean to lie to you," he explained. "I don't know why I said that. It just came out."
"Ron, what - ?"
"That is how I feel, Harry. About you. I didn't realise it until you told me today. I don't care about the bet. Charlie would never make me pay up. I only care about you."
"Ron - "
Harry's heart was beating very fast in his chest. What should he do? He wanted to stop Ron's words by snogging him senseless, but Ron didn't know ...
"Oh, Merlin," continued Ron, "But you want someone else, anyway, and -"
"No, Ron!" spoke Harry, more sharply than he intended. Ron's mouth snapped shut.
"No," repeated Harry, more softly. "I mean, I thought it was someone else, but once you asked, I knew it could only be you."
"Then why did you - ?"
"You said you didn't, so I - "
Ron silenced Harry with a warm hand, placed lightly on his upper thigh.
"Yeah. I know. I'm sorry."
Harry smiled, placing his hand on top of Ron's. "Yeah. Me, too."
Ron's eyes were so blue. They seemed to be growing larger, although it was only Harry's own gaze that was focusing more and more intently on them. Ron's face was so close, Harry could feel the breath on his face.
This was so much better than it had been with Malfoy.
As Ron's eyes started to fall shut, Harry drew up suddenly. An awful thought had just hit him.
"Ron!"
"Mm?"
"What about Hermione?"
"What about her?"
"Your girlfriend? Our best friend! We can't do this to her!"
"Oh, that." Ron gave a little shrug. "We had a little talk while I was waiting for you. Turns out we wanted different things." Ron smiled gently at Harry's dismayed face. "It's okay. We'll all still be the best of friends."
"Wanted different things?" asked Harry distantly.
"Yeah," replied Ron with a grin. "I wanted you. And Hermione apparently wanted Parvati. Didn't see that one coming. Anyway, it worked out."
Harry smiled. "You wanted -" The rest of Ron's statement had contained something interesting, Harry was sure, but the first part held all of his attention.
"I wanted you. I want you."
"Good," replied Harry, leaning closer again, "because you're about to get me."
A muffled thump echoed through the quiet common room, as Harry tackled his best mate to the ground.