~*~*~*~

It had taken him nearly all day, but Ron had finally completed his Transfiguration essay, his Potions reading, and the first draft of his research paper for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He could officially call his homework "done"; that is to say, it was done to his satisfaction if not Hermione’s.

Ron glanced at Harry’s table, and it looked as though he, too, was packing up his things for the day. Ron had hemmed and hawed a bit when Harry and Hermione insisted on finishing all their homework on Saturday, but he knew that they must have something fun in store for his birthday the next day that they didn’t want to have to cut short because of homework.

As he approached Harry’s table, he inconspicuously placed his hand on the curve of Harry’s neck, gently rubbing his fingertips against the soft skin of Harry’s shoulder. Ron couldn’t quite understand Harry’s desire for secrecy; apparently Muggles like the Dursleys had a problem with same-sex couples. Discrimination in the wizarding world was more along bloodlines than sexual preferences. Still, he didn’t think Madam Pince would appreciate groping in the middle of the library, so Ron fought back the urge.

"I think I’m finished with everything I need to do for Monday," Ron said quietly.

Harry looked up at him with a sideways glance and a smile. "Good. So am I. Would you mind removing the concentration charm?"

Hermione had uncovered a handy little charm that kept your mind from wandering while you were trying to study. It wasn’t very powerful, though, which is why Harry and Ron felt the need to study at separate tables, and it didn’t work if you cast it on yourself. They ended each other’s spells and went to find Hermione, who was studying at her favorite table among the dusty old tomes in the Restricted Section.

"Hey, Hermione," said Harry in a loud whisper. "Ron and I have finished our homework, and it’s almost dinner. Why don’t you take a break?"

"Yeah," teased Ron, "I don’t understand what’s taking you so long to finish."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, I am taking three more subjects than you, aren’t I?" She stood up and stretched her back. "But I suppose I’m ready for a study break. Let’s go."

Those two are definitely up to something, thought Ron as he shoveled food into his mouth. Harry was hardly eating a thing, and he and Hermione kept whispering just softly enough so that Ron couldn’t hear them. Last week he’d have probably punched Harry’s lights out, but a lot had changed since their…confrontation after the Quidditch match. For the hundredth time that day, Ron fought back the urge to run his fingers through Harry’s unruly hair and snog him senseless. Yes, things had definitely changed.

"So we don’t have any homework. What are we going to do tonight?" Ron asked, trying to keep his tone light. He had the impression that Harry and Hermione had his entire evening planned out, and he would be the last to know what was going on.

Harry snaked his hand under the table, squeezing Ron’s thigh gently. "Well, seeing as how it’s your last night of being seventeen, I think you should be able to do anything you want. Anything at all."

The smirk that accompanied Harry’s comments was accompanied by a gleam that was unmistakably flirtatious. But if Harry was implying…er…that, then why would Hermione be involved? Ron didn’t even want to try to make his brain go there. Ron responded with a vague grunt, not trusting himself to say anything that wouldn’t incriminate him to Hermione and anyone else who might be listening.

Saturday’s pudding was a decadent chocolate torte covered with copious amounts of whipped cream. Ron struggled to keep his thoughts away from the idea of his best mate writhing beneath him, wearing nothing but the whipped cream which Ron could lick off with long strokes of his tongue. However, the proximity of Harry’s hand to his crotch and the way Harry had suddenly developed an appetite, for the pudding in general and the whipped cream in particular, was sending his already-active libido into overdrive. At this point, he felt Harry would be lucky to make it as far as a broom cupboard before Ron attacked him.

Harry must have sensed Ron’s growing excitement, because he moved his fingers ever so slightly until they brushed up against Ron’s cock. Sweet Merlin! What was he playing at? Ron quickly shoved his fork into his mouth to stifle a moan. "Yes, I thought that might be a problem," Harry grinned wickedly. "I seem to have the same issue."

The knowledge that Harry was sitting next to him, most likely as hard as he was, only served to make things worse. During the past week, they’d fooled around a bit, but Harry had never been so…forward. With much mental anguish, he removed Harry’s hand from his thigh and took a deep breath. If Harry didn’t knock it off, Ron wouldn’t even be able to walk at this rate. He prayed to the heavens that Hermione was oblivious to his and Harry’s condition, but he seriously doubted it. There wasn’t much that escaped her notice.

Ron couldn’t look Harry in the eye anymore – he was just too tempting. So he struck up a conversation with Neville, feigning interest in Neville’s cross-pollination project for Herbology. Well, it was boring, but at least it would solve the problem of his untimely erection.

Ron noticed out of the corner of his eye that Harry and Hermione were getting up to leave. Harry leaned over to say, "If you can pull yourself away, Ron, we’re going back upstairs." He turned to Neville and added, "Do you want us to wait for you?"

"No, go on. I’ll be up in a minute," replied Neville.

As they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione motioned to Ron and Harry to stop. "Ron, give Harry your book bag."

Though he was looking at her as if she were barking mad, Ron did as she asked and handed his bag over to Harry, who didn’t seem the least bit surprised by this request. Seconds later, Hermione drew her wand and muttered "Petrificus Totalus."

Ron was immediately stiff as a board and at risk for falling on his face much the way Neville had when she’d done the same thing to him their first year. Unable to move his jaw to speak, Ron flashed a pleading glare in Hermione’s direction. Hermione quickly cast "Mobilicorpus," causing Ron to hover in the air just inches above the floor.

"Harry, if you wouldn’t mind setting my bag inside, I’ll just keep Ron occupied," said Hermione sweetly.

Harry nodded, grabbed her book bag from her shoulder, and muttered, "I’ll be right back." He quickly disappeared through the portrait hole.

If Ron had been nervous before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. Unable to move or speak and dangling in the air at the hands of a witch who he’d utterly insulted the week before, Ron began to imagine wild scenarios in which Harry and Hermione confessed that they’d been having him on and proceeded to make out in front of him while he was forced to watch. Equally farfetched thoughts of being ditched in a cupboard or floated up high into the air while wearing only his underwear sprang to his mind. His fears were not entirely irrational; Fred and George would have done any of those things to him in a heartbeat.

"Don’t look so worried, Ron," chattered Hermione. "Harry and I have been planning this little surprise for a few weeks, and Harry assures me that you’re going to enjoy it. Of course, you almost spoiled it by being such a prat last week, but Harry thinks it will turn out fine."

Ron was dubious. If that was the case, why would they be needing to completely immobilize him? Ron noticed someone approaching them, and quickly recognized Neville. Finally! Having been on the receiving end of this particular hex, Neville would certainly convince Hermione that a full body bind was both unpleasant and unnecessary.

"Hello Hermione, Ron," Neville said cheerfully. He stopped, noticing suddenly that Ron’s feet were not quite touching the floor. He turned to Hermione. "So, then, you’re off to do the birthday… thing?"

"Yes. Harry’s just run upstairs to put their things away. I wonder what’s keeping him, though."

Neville looked Ron in the eye, and Ron could sense a small amount of pity in his expression. "Have a great time, mate. We won’t wait up, all right?" He said the password and went inside.

Ron couldn’t believe it! Neville was in on this, too? He didn’t seem very concerned about the fact that his mate was dangling several inches from the floor, completely done in by Hermione’s hex. If Neville wouldn’t help him out of the situation, Ron didn’t rate his chances with anyone else either.

Another minute passed and Harry climbed through the portrait hole. He was carrying his book bag, which was nearly bursting at the seams.

"All right there, Ron? Sorry about the spell. We wanted to keep you here and quiet before you went off and ruined any of our other surprises."

Ron didn’t know what to make of all this. His two best friends, who had ‘plans’ for him, were kidnapping him. Ron was almost accepting of the idea until Harry pulled out a long piece of cloth and began to tie it around his eyes as a blindfold. Crap – they were really making him nervous now.

"He’s not very trusting, is he?" said Hermione.

Harry chuckled. "Perhaps this will teach him a lesson on who he can trust. When do you think I should tell him that I’m not really Harry – I’m a Death Eater on Polyjuice Potion?"

Ron could hear Hermione stifle a giggle, so he was fairly certain they were winding him up. But he wasn’t positive. His nerves fluttered as he realized he was starting to move. The blindfold was obviously to keep him from finding out where they were going. How long would it take them to get there? How many other people would be at this place? Were they going to keep the blindfold on him?

After what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes, Ron came to a stop and Hermione lowered him to the floor. Thank Merlin for that!

"I’m going to end the body bind, but you should know that if you attempt to take off the blindfold or make a run for it, Harry will stun you. Oh, and he has your wand, too."

Hermione ended the spell, and Ron felt the odd sensation of standing on his own power again. Out of habit, he felt his pocket for his wand. Sure enough, it was missing.

Before Ron could ask one of the ten thousand questions he had, he felt Hermione kissing him on the cheek. "Well, Ron, I hope this convinces you I’m not out to ruin your life. I’m off to the library. Have fun, you two. And Ron, don’t worry; I’ve got your prefect duties covered for tonight."

Huh? Ron launched his questions in rapid succession. "What in bloody hell is this all about, Harry? Where are we? Is this some kind of a joke?"

Harry didn’t answer, but pulled Ron into a room. Once inside, he cast a "Colloportus" spell, causing the door to lock behind them. It was only then that Harry removed Ron’s blindfold, and the two of them surveyed the room for the first time.

"To answer your question, we’re in the Room of Requirement," said Harry slowly, his eyes taking in all that the room had to offer. "Wow! When I conjured the room, I didn’t know I’d end up with this!"

"This" was a fairly small room, most of which was taken up by an enormous four-poster bed. It was covered with a fluffy duvet, with coverings in Chudley Cannons orange. The other item taking up the remainder of the space was an extremely large mirror, which was facing the bed. Harry stepped closer and recognized it almost immediately.

Relieved that his fears were all unfounded, Ron let out a laugh. "So what exactly were you thinking about in order to end up with a huge bed and a giant mirror? It’s a bit kinky, isn’t it, Harry?"

Harry smiled, but then stepped in front of The Mirror of Erised. Immediately he saw himself standing victorious, one foot resting on the chest of Voldemort’s slain body, while masked Death Eaters lay face down, clearly dead. Ron was next to him; their hands were clasped and raised high up in the air as a sign of unity and triumph. It stunned Harry that his heart’s deepest desire had changed so much since he’d first looked into this mirror just over six years ago.

He stepped aside and said with a choked voice, "I was trying to conjure a room that would have exactly what you most wanted, but it must have picked up on the fact that I wasn’t really sure what that was. I think maybe you should look in the mirror and see what your deepest desire is."

Ron nervously stepped in front of the mirror. He recalled the last time he’d looked into it, and how angry it seemed to make Harry that he couldn’t see the same thing Harry saw. Peering into the glass, Ron saw his reflection change so that he was holding up the Quidditch Cup together with Harry, their hands laced together as they supported it. Thrown over each of their other arms were bright orange Chudley Cannons robes; they appeared to be professional Quidditch players for the Cannons. The Ron and Harry in the mirror glanced at each other and smiled affectionately. Yes, this was his heart’s deepest desire.

"I…well, I should say, we’re both holding the Quidditch Cup, and we’re going to play for the Chudley Cannons," Ron said with a smile.

"You were in mine too," replied Harry. "I’ve defeated Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and we’re celebrating our victory."

Ron didn’t know if he should feel bad about the fact that Harry defeating You-Know-Who and saving the wizarding world was not the deepest desire of his heart. But truthfully, it really wasn’t. What he wanted more than anything was to be with Harry and live a normal life. Well, as normal a life as a professional Quidditch player could have, anyway. He noticed Harry looking pensive and asked him about it.

"I was just wondering," Harry pondered, "what we would see if we both looked in the mirror at the same time. Remember when we did it before, when we were first years? All we could see was ourselves, like a normal mirror. But later, when I looked into it at the same time as Professor Quirrell, I saw loads of other stuff besides him and me. I’ve always thought that was weird. Do you think we could we try it again?"

"Yeah. Come here." Ron pulled Harry’s sleeve, and they stood side-by-side in front of the mirror.

At first, Ron saw their reflections as if The Mirror of Erised were a regular mirror. But after a short wait, the Harry and Ron in the mirror turned to face each other, and embraced. Ron watched his reflection kiss Harry’s: slowly and passionately, as if no one else existed in the world. He cast a sideways glance at Harry, and saw that he, too, was mesmerized by the sight in the mirror. Ron reached over for Harry’s hand, and their fingers entwined silently as they watched their reflections press against each other, grinding their hips in a way that sent all the blood in Ron’s body to his groin. It seemed so obvious now; together, their hearts’ deepest desire was to make love to one another.

"How far do you reckon they’ll go?" Harry asked as they watched his reflection discard the robes belonging to Ron’s reflection.

"Dunno. Probably as far as we want them to." Ron paused. "Er, it might go pretty far, considering what I really want to do with you." Ron knew he was blushing, and was relieved to see Harry’s cheeks stained pink as well.

"Oh. Yeah, I didn’t think of that. Maybe we should sit down. It could be a while." They backed up and perched on the edge of the bed, not wanting to turn away and miss anything that their images were doing in the mirror.

Harry’s reflection eagerly caressed the now-bare skin of Ron’s, whilst Ron’s reflection proceeded to undress Harry’s at breakneck speed. Watching his figure undress Harry’s may not have been the weirdest thing Ron had ever seen, but it was, beyond a doubt, the hottest. His prick was straining against his trousers as he watched Harry’s image reach out to cup the straining erection of Ron’s image. Ron couldn’t stop the low moan that escaped from his throat.

Ron glanced at Harry, noting a sly smile spreading across his face as Harry said, "You’d like that, would you?"

"Gods, yes. You’ve no idea how much."

Without turning away from the mirror, Harry reached over and placed his hand atop the bulge in Ron’s trousers. Ron’s breathing sped up as Harry’s fingers moved slowly back and forth. Ron was going to return the favor, but he was distracted by the vision of his reflection kneeling on the floor, taking the image of Harry’s cock into his mouth as far as he could without gagging.

This time, Harry let out a moan. "It’s like watching a Muggle porno flick starring us," muttered Harry as he thrust forward his hips to meet Ron’s hand.

"What’s a poor no flick?" Ron asked.

Harry swallowed, getting sidetracked in his explanation by the vision of Ron’s reflection trailing his tongue along the underside of his image’s cock. "It’s…er…like a wizard picture that tells a story, except the story really isn’t very important. It’s just an excuse to see the people have sex. Dudley used to watch them all the time last summer."

As unbelievably hot as it was to watch their reflections have sex, Ron suddenly realized that there was nothing to stop them from fulfilling their hearts’ deepest desire in the flesh. He didn’t need the mirror to give him any ideas – he’d been fantasizing about things he’d love to do with Harry for ages.

"Harry," Ron asked in a low voice, thick with desire, "do I still get to do anything I want on my last day of being seventeen?"

Harry turned away from the mirror, drawn by the lust evident in Ron’s voice. "Yes," he said. "Anything you want."

Ron reached over and unhitched the clasp of Harry’s robes. He stripped Harry down to just his trousers, and began to remove his own clothing. An occasional glance over his shoulder indicated that the two reflections were still going at it. Harry seemed to be much more interested in Ron’s real life actions.

"Since I get to choose, I want to do what they’re doing," Ron said, pointing in the direction of the mirror. Ron glanced at the mirror again just in time to see the reflection of Harry, crouched on his hands and knees, take the full length of the image of Ron’s cock into his arse. "Fuck. That’s exactly what I want to do."

Harry had looked at the mirror when Ron did, and couldn’t tear his eyes away. "I, er… God, that looks really amazing. I’ve got to admit, I’m really curious to know what that feels like."

Harry and Ron both stood up to remove the rest of their clothing. Once discarded, they embraced, relishing the feeling of skin upon skin, hardness against hardness. They’d had no opportunity to properly explore each other’s body, and now that they were finally touching, it was exquisite. The kissed and groped and explored for a long time before Ron pushed Harry backwards onto the bed and knelt over him, teasing Harry’s erection with his tongue.

"Oh, Ron," moaned Harry, "I…you…God!"

Ron smiled as Harry murmured incoherently. He’d been afraid to do this in the dormitory, not knowing how loud Harry was going to be. Ron realized the wisdom of his decision as he sucked and gently pressed Harry’s sac, eliciting a loud keening noise. Watching Harry hovering so close to his release was an incredible turn-on for Ron. He moved faster – swirling his tongue around and over the slit of Harry’s cock, taking as much of him inside as he could manage, pumping the shaft with his thumb and forefinger each time it pulled out of Ron’s mouth.

"Ahhh," gasped Harry as he came, shooting wave after wave into Ron’s willing mouth. Ron held on until Harry’s body stopped quivering, nearly giddy with the knowledge that he had been able to give Harry so much pleasure.

Ron licked a path from Harry’s cock up to his mouth, making several stops along the way to take his time enjoying Harry’s delicious skin. They kissed, and Ron wondered idly whether it was weird for Harry to taste his own essence on Ron’s tongue. Hopefully he’d get a chance to find out, but for now, he had other plans.

"Harry, I want to be inside you so much," Ron whispered into his ear. "Are you still okay with that?"

Harry grinned, removing his glasses and setting them on the table beside the bed. "After you’ve just given me the best experience of my life, I’m not about to refuse you anything. I brought some lubricant – it’s in my book bag."

With some amount of effort, Ron rolled off the bed and began to rummage through the bag. He stared at Harry in disbelief as he pulled out six different types of lube and a jar of Vaseline.

"What? It never hurts to be prepared," said Harry.

Ron laughed. "Exactly how much sex were you planning to have tonight, and how many others were going to join us?"

"It’s cheaper if you buy in bulk," Harry said with a wink.

Ron climbed back onto the bed, wishing like hell that he knew what he was doing. But there had to be a first time for everything, and he was a Gryffindor, after all. He’d heard once that it was easier to do it from behind, but that might have been Fred telling him that, so who knew if it was true. Still, Harry’s reflection appeared to like it, so it seemed like a good place to start.

"Do you know how to do this?" Ron asked, trying to pretend that he wasn’t nervous as hell.

"Not really. Just what I saw in Dudley’s videos, and I doubt those were very accurate."

Ron allowed his eyes to sweep over Harry’s wiry body, hardly able to believe that they were going to do this, and that he would be Harry’s first.

"Roll over and tuck your knees up under you," said Ron. "Yeah, like that. But you probably want to grab those pillows too." He stared as Harry made himself comfortable. It occurred to Ron that he was seeing what the rest of the wizarding world never would: Harry Potter, Quidditch Captain, Tri-Wizard Tournament Champion, slayer of Basilisks, and hopefully, victor over You-Know-Who, crouched on hands and knees in the most vulnerable position possible, willingly offering himself up for the pleasure of his best friend and lover. The very thought sent a surge of emotion through his chest that was so much deeper than lust.

They laughed a bit as Ron attempted to prepare Harry, which was not surprising considering their combined knowledge of sex had been gleaned from overheard locker room banter and porn movies. Harry was surprisingly patient as Ron poked and prodded, until finally, Ron inadvertently rewarded him with pressure on an extremely sensitive spot that made him moan with delight. Repeated strokes brought the same response, and Ron was torn between the desire to keep making Harry moan delightfully or seek his own release by replacing his fingers with his cock. He compromised by continuing to fuck Harry with his fingers until they started to cramp. Harry appeared to be reduced to incoherent whispers again, which turned into an audible sigh as Ron pulled out his fingers.

There was more fumbling as Ron tried to enter Harry, but eventually they got it right. Ron was terrified of causing any pain, but Harry was practically begging him to move. Harry was so tight and warm, and the sensation was so new to Ron that it overwhelmed him. Not gonna last for more than a few seconds at this rate, he thought. Ron desperately wanted their first time to last longer than that, so he took a few deep breaths and willed himself to calm down.

Ron pulled back and thrust again, and then another time, wanting to establish a slow rhythm. Damn it, he couldn’t do it. "Harry… I have to," he panted. He couldn’t finish his sentence before his instincts took over and he slammed into Harry one, two, three more times. He tensed suddenly and then came hard, feeling his release all the way down to his toes.

Ron’s breathing was ragged as he tried to recover, resting his body alongside Harry’s, pulling him close. "Sex is definitely underrated," he whispered past Harry’s ear, causing Harry to laugh.

Once he’d gained back the feeling in his limbs, Ron shifted them so that he could see Harry’s face. No one should look that gorgeous – it was Not Humanly Possible. Harry kissed him, and he felt another wave of that unidentified emotion filling his chest.

"I’m sorry," Ron said sheepishly. "I wanted that to go on for a bit longer."

Harry cupped his face and leaned in for another kiss. "It doesn’t matter; it was brilliant. We’ll just need to practice more."

For a long while they said nothing, but gently caressed each other while their minds wandered aimlessly. Ron’s silent reverie was interrupted when a rather disturbing thought popped into his head.

"Harry…"

"Hmmm."

"Why exactly were you scheming all this time with Hermione if you were just going to bring me here to seduce me? She’s not hiding behind the mirror or anything, is she?" Ron could feel Harry’s body tense at the question, but he didn’t look Ron in the eye.

"Well, originally I was just going to use the occasion to, er, tell you how I felt. But after you forced that information out of me, Hermione thought we ought to use the time to get to know each other."

Ron snorted. "Get to know each other? We’ve been best friends since the first day of Hogwarts! How much better do I need to know you?"

Harry arched his eyebrow. "I can think of some ways."

"Oh, but I don’t want to think of Hermione knowing about us doing…what we’re doing. It makes my brain hurt." Ron shuddered at the very thought.

"Of course she’s going to know. Hermione knows everything. And she’ll probably ask you if I was any good, and you’d better say yes, even if it’s a lie. I have a reputation to build," he said with a smirk.

"And Neville? It sounds like he knows that something is going on, too."

Harry laughed. "Yes, well, Neville thinks I’m going to get you drunk and leave you naked in the Astronomy Tower." Ron nearly choked. "He overheard Hermione and me talking, and I had to tell him something."

"Thanks a lot. Now I’m going to have a reputation to live down." Ron pulled Harry close again, capturing his lips one more time. "And why’d you let Hermione use Petrificus Totalus on me and the whole blindfold bit? You didn’t think the promise of sex would be enough to keep me in line?"

There was no mistaking Harry’s flush as he said, "That was Hermione’s idea. She said to tell you if you asked that ‘Payback’s a bitch.’" A grin spread across Harry’s face as he contemplated whether or not Ron was going to smack him for letting her get away with it.

"Right. If I didn’t deserve it, I’d be really angry about that."

Ron’s stomach growled loud enough for Harry to hear it. "There are some biscuits in my bag. I thought we might need to keep our strength up," said Harry sporting a cheeky grin.

"Good thinking." Ron got out of bed to search for the bag. As he passed the Mirror of Erised, he noticed that their reflections were still in the throes of passion. "Hey Harry, check this out."

Harry sat up in bed, and the two of them watched as Harry’s reflection drizzled what appeared to be chocolate syrup onto Ron’s reflection and then bent down to lick it off.

"Harry, you don’t happen to have any—"

"Yeah, I do, actually." Harry found his book bag and dug down to the bottom. His hand emerged with a flask. "I was going to save this for tomorrow, but it appears that my deepest desire is chocolate fondue, and who am I to argue with a magical mirror?"

"Well, my deepest desire is to be chocolate fondue, so there’s nothing to worry about, eh mate?"

Harry pulled Ron onto the bed and rolled them so that he was on top. "No," said Harry. "Nothing to worry about at all. Happy Birthday, Ron."

finis

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