~*~*~*~

By the time Ron walked into the library, he was completely hacked off at Harry. Captain or not, it wasn’t fair for Harry to make Ron and the three Chasers stay out in the blustery February cold for an extra hour of Quidditch practice while he and the Beaters got to take their warm showers. And then, to make matters worse, Harry hadn’t even waited for him to finish; he was nowhere to be found. Sod him, anyway.

Ron scanned the library for familiar faces, but seeing none, he headed back to his usual table in the corner. He stopped dead, though, when he heard the unmistakable whispered voices of his two best friends.

“…even joke about that, Hermione. You know how upset Ron’d be if he found out we were excluding him,” said Harry.

Hermione chuckled softly. “You know very well that I’ve no intention of telling him. It’s perfect just the way it is. If he finds out, it will spoil everything.”

Ron edged up next to the stacks and peeked around them. Immediately, his heart sank. Harry and Hermione were huddled close together over a piece of parchment, smiling at one another. Harry’s arm was draped carelessly across the back of Hermione’s chair. They looked like…well, a normal dating couple. Except that if they were dating, it was news to Ron.

Ron watched the two of them together for as long as he could stand it: Hermione playfully putting her hand on Harry’s knee; Harry brushing a wisp of bushy brown hair out of Hermione’s face; Hermione giggling while trying to tickle Harry’s sides; and finally, the move that sent Ron over the top, Harry tossing some small thing at Hermione which disappeared down the front of her blouse, sending them both into gales of stifled laughter.

That’s just nauseating, Ron thought. He debated whether to say something to them or just turn around and leave, and decided leaving was the safer option. Ron was so angry, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t hex them into next week if they tried to speak to him. He turned on his heel and quickly made his way back to the dormitory, thankful to avoid meeting anyone who would expect him to talk to them.

Alone in the dormitory, Ron flopped down on his bed. When the hell had this happened? Was he really so unobservant that he hadn’t noticed something going on between his best friends? And he’d been watching Harry, at least, all the time. He ought to have seen it before now. The idea that they were together was making him sick.

The more Ron thought about it, the more panicked he became. He shouldn’t have told Harry about being attracted to boys. Maybe Ron had freaked him out. If that was the case, though, he was surprised, because Harry had acted very supportive and understanding and even…interested in the idea. In fact, he’d acted exactly the way a best mate should act. For a fleeting moment, Ron had even thought that Harry might be attracted to him as well. Ron was grateful now that he had been too embarrassed to tell Harry how much he liked him. At least now I know the feeling’s not mutual, thought Ron wryly.

But if Harry and Hermione were so keen about each other, why wouldn’t they say anything to him? Did they think he wouldn’t be happy for them? Hermione might have guessed, but he didn’t think Harry had any idea how Ron felt about him. And even if they were dating, Ron still expected to be best friends with both of them. Merlin, it was all so confusing.

Ron had just worked himself into a miserable, sullen mood when Harry showed up in the dormitory. Ron chose to ignore him.

Harry came around to the side of Ron’s bed, his brow furrowed slightly at the grimace on Ron’s face. “How did the rest of practice go, then?” he asked tentatively.

“Oh, just great, Harry,” Ron said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Froze my bloody arse off and didn’t stop the Quaffle more than a couple times. Was your shower nice and warm?”

Harry sighed. “Look, Ron, you know why I had you stay out an extra hour, don’t you? I’ve been watching Zacharias Smith for weeks now, and he’s really gotten rather good. With the match less than a week away, I don’t want you unprepared, that’s all.”

Ron sat up suddenly and glared at Harry. “Since you’re such an expert at determining whether I’m prepared for Saturday’s match, why didn’t you stay to watch? You could have pointed out all of my flaws so that I’d know exactly what my shortcomings were.”

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. “Come on, Ron. Don’t be like that. I think you’re a brilliant Keeper. But it’s our last year at Hogwarts and I want us to win the Cup more than anything. Besides, I couldn’t stay because I had to meet someone.”

“Who?” asked Ron before he could stop himself.

“Er…it doesn’t really matter. You’re right; I should have stayed. It wasn’t very nice of me to go off and leave you without saying goodbye, and I’m sorry.”

Harry’s gaze burned as it drilled into Ron. So Harry wasn’t going to tell him about meeting with Hermione – why the hell not? Ron was still upset, but he forgave Harry anyway. It was awfully hard to stay angry when you felt that way about someone.

Ron made a point to observe Harry and Hermione that night at dinner and over the next few days. If they were hiding a romantic relationship from him, they were doing a damn good job, because their relationship seemed to be completely platonic whenever he was around. There was no conspiratorial whispering or inappropriate flinging of objects, just Harry and Hermione acting normal. It was a little strange that Harry seemed to be avoiding looking Ron in the eye, though. Ron had the feeling he was being watched, but when he’d glance up quickly, Harry’s gaze always seemed to be fixed somewhere else. But nothing came of it, so Ron finally decided that he was being paranoid, and that he had overreacted that day because he was angry about Quidditch practice.

Thursday night at curfew, Ron left his dormitory to go his prefect rounds. The common room was nearly empty as he descended the steps; he could only see Hermione and Ginny chatting quietly, facing the fire. They kept talking as he approached, so he supposed they didn’t hear him. But when he overheard bits of their conversation, he couldn’t resist crouching behind a chair so that they wouldn’t see him as he listened to them.

Ginny was saying, “I know – it’s great to see Harry so happy for a change. It’s like he’s a new person.”

Hermione nodded. “At first I was sad because I really wanted things to work out with Ron and me, but I wouldn’t have made him happy. But Harry – oh my God! I never thought he’d be the type to fall so hard.”

“You really think he’s in love?”

Hermione beamed. “Of course. He hasn’t told me in so many words, but it’s written all over his face. I mean, have you seen the way he blushes? It’s adorable.”

Ginny leaned closer to Hermione. “So when he finally told you, what did he say?”

“Oh my gosh, Ginny, it was so romantic. He’d been acting strangely for a few days, but wouldn’t tell me why. Eventually he pulled me aside and made me promise not to tell Ron. He said he never felt this way about anyone before, and it was new and scary. And he was so worried that something would happen to mess up the friendship that the three of us share together – and that he has no idea what he’s doing, but that he’d rather die than hurt me.”

Ginny laughed. “Yes, well, fortunately for you he’s got that saving-people thing.”

“Right,” smirked Hermione. “But, really, he couldn’t have been sweeter. I still don’t understand why he’s so worried to tell Ron. I think Ron will be surprised, but I know he’ll be pleased.”

“Of course he’ll be pleased. They’re inseparable, after all. Everyone knows they’re closer than brothers.”

As he listened, Ron began to feel sick to his stomach. So it was true then: Harry was in love with Hermione, and they were deliberately keeping it from Ron. Ron was so demoralized by their conversation, that he started back to the dormitory, forgetting his prefect duties. He paused on the stairs just at the moment Ginny stood up.

“Oi, Ron!” she called. “You off to bust the rule-breakers?”

Ron looked up quickly and remembered. “Er, yeah. I nearly forgot it was my night.”

Ron spent the next half hour mentally berating himself. Ron should have told Harry how he felt when he came out to him. It might have been uncomfortable for a little while, but at least he wouldn’t have been holding out any hope. Crap, he’d practically pushed Harry into Hermione’s arms. Ron remembered Hermione saying the other day that things were perfect between them as long as Ron didn’t find out. He couldn’t figure out whether he was more upset because he wanted Harry for himself, or because his two best friends were keeping secrets from him. Regardless of the reason, he felt terrible when he returned to his dormitory at last and crawled into his bed. Why did this relationship stuff have to hurt so much?

By Saturday morning, Ron’s grumpiness had evolved into flat-out rage. He was no longer speaking to Harry and made disruptive, snarky comments all through Harry’s pre-match strategy talk. He was going to show Harry how wrong he was about Ron – show him what he was missing by choosing to be with Hermione. He’d never been so fired up to kick some Quidditch arse.

Hufflepuff was flattened. Although it took Harry nearly an hour to catch the Snitch, Ron managed to save all but one goal, and that goal only happened because he had to dodge a Bludger at an inopportune moment. Even the Slytherins could find nothing lacking in Ron’s performance about which they could taunt him.

Harry came up behind him after the game and levitated Ron onto his and Kirke’s shoulders. They carried him around like a hero, and Ron was so chuffed that he forgot to be angry. Even after putting him on the ground, Harry remained close to him, patting him on the back every so often, and making sure that Ron got all the credit he was rightfully due.

It came as quite a shock, then, when he turned away from Seamus and Neville to find that Harry had vanished. There was no sign of Hermione, either. Ron raced to the changing rooms, but Harry wasn’t there, and none of the other boys had seen him. Ron quickly showered and dressed before storming up to the castle.

Hermione was laying out some food she’d gotten from her friends, the house-elves, while Dean was hanging up “Gryffindor Quidditch Champs” posters on the walls. Ron burst through the portrait hole looking ready to kill. He stopped suddenly when he saw Hermione and realized Harry was not with her.

“Where is he?” he shouted at Hermione, oblivious to the other students who were trickling into the room.

“Who?”

“Harry. You know, the skinny guy with the glasses that you keep sneaking off with.”

Hermione turned quickly, placing her hands on her hips. “Ronald Weasley, what in the world are you talking about?”

“Get off it, Hermione. I know perfectly well what you two have been up to.”

“Don’t you dare shout at me! You’ve been acting like a right pain in the arse for days, and I’m tired of it. Harry is so hurt by your behavior that he’s in a terrible funk.”

This was too much for Ron. “Harry’s hurt?” he shouted. “Harry’s hurt? How do you think I feel? He’s the one who’s been lying to his best friend and sneaking off with his secret girlfriend.”

Ron ignored Hermione’s obvious shock, which had rendered her uncharacteristically speechless, and continued with a lowered voice. “What’s the matter, Hermione? You couldn’t have me so you thought you’d ruin my life by turning Harry against me?”

Hermione was so offended by Ron’s words – which had appeared out of the blue – that she couldn’t speak in complete sentences. So she did the only thing a sensible witch would do given the circumstances: she drew her wand and quickly cast “silencio” at Ron to shut him up. When Ron realized she’d cast the spell, he stopped trying to yell at her and threw a Death Glare at her instead.

“Ron, you’re going to listen to what I have to say, and I don’t care if I have to hex you with Petrificus Totalus in order to make you listen.” Hermione paused waiting for a challenge. Upon receiving none, she continued, “Look, I don’t know what you think you know about Harry and me, but I can assure you that I am most certainly not his girlfriend, and I am not trying to turn him against you. Nothing could be further from the truth. If Harry is avoiding you, it’s because you’ve been an utter prat to him all week. In fact, I’m tired of both of you. Just figure it out and leave me out of your petty little arguments.”

Hermione stalked off to the girls’ dormitory stairs. At the last moment, she flung her wand in Ron’s general direction and called “finite incantatum.”

“Right,” said Ron to test his voice. Quite a few students were staring at him. “What are you looking at?” Ron snipped at no one in particular. Feeling more embarrassed with each passing moment, he headed up to the dormitory. Dean was right behind him.

“What’s going on, mate?” Dean asked as they reached their room. “I couldn’t help but overhear… Well, I think the whole school overheard you.”

Ron sat on the end of his bed. “I don’t even know what’s wrong anymore,” sighed Ron. “Harry’s keeping something from me and Hermione knows what it is, and I was positive the two of them were going out, until just now.”

Dean smiled at him kindly. “If you don’t mind me saying, Hermione was right. Harry has been moping about all week and you’ve been, er, difficult.” Ron looked up sharply and their eyes met. Dean continued with a grin, “But you played a mean game of Quidditch today.”

“It just hurts to think he’s hiding something from me – like he doesn’t trust me or something.”

“Come on, Ron,” said Dean. “You know that’s not true. You two have been best mates for as long as I’ve known you. If Harry’s keeping something from you, then he has a damn good reason.”

Ron couldn’t imagine any reason good enough for Harry to keep secrets from him, but he figured Dean was right. Still, it didn’t make him feel any better. His only consolation was the knowledge that Harry and Hermione weren’t dating. But then, what had Hermione and Ginny been talking about when he overheard them?

Ron and Dean had just returned to the common room, where the victory party was in full swing, when Harry arrived through the portrait hole. He had a wide grin on his face that made it look as if Christmas had come early.

“Ron, you’ll never guess who I’ve been talking to,” he said smugly. “Roland McKnight.”

“McKnight? You mean the bloke who manages the Chudley Cannons?” Ron felt his stomach drop. It would be just his luck to have Harry get an offer to play for Ron’s favorite team.

“Yeah. He wasn’t really looking for a Seeker, but he was most interested in adding a Keeper to his roster.” Harry grinned at Ron, his brilliant green eyes shiny behind his glasses.

“He – what?” Ron’s heart began to race. The Chudley Cannons were actually interested in him!

“We looked for you all over the pitch, but you must have run back to the castle. He said he’d owl you because he couldn’t wait around any longer. Where’d you disappear to, anyway?”

Ron cast a sheepish, sideways glance at Dean. “I…er…well, I thought you’d come back here with Hermione, and I went looking for you.”

Harry surveyed the room. “I don’t see Hermione here anywhere. Is she at the library?”

Ron didn’t know how to answer, so Dean chimed in, “No, she went stomping off to her dormitory right after Ron accused her of ruining his life.”

Ron immediately turned crimson as Harry glared at him, clearly flabbergasted. “I may have overreacted a bit.” Ron wanted to crawl in a hole. The disappointment on Harry’s face was devastating. If he ever had a chance with Harry, it was certain to be ruined now that he’d behaved like a complete idiot.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Harry asked angrily. He turned to Dean. “Excuse us for a moment, would you? Ron and I are going to clear this up once and for all.” And with that, he reached out and grabbed a stunned Ron by the elbow, practically dragging him up the stairs to the dormitory.

Harry shut the door and turned to face Ron. “Now, do you mind telling me what your problem is with me and Hermione? Because you’re obviously pissed off and I have no idea why.”

Just as well to get everything out in the open, thought Ron, although he was apprehensive about how Harry would react.

“I overheard you and Hermione in the library last Sunday talking about hiding something from me. And then I heard her talking to Ginny and she made it sound like the two of you were going out, and that you were worried about telling me. But I don’t understand. Why couldn’t you tell me?”

Harry sat down next to Ron on his bed, his features softened as he suddenly remembered. “You must have heard us talking about a…your birthday present. Honest, Ron, you’ll find out eventually, but your birthday isn’t until next week. And I’m not going out with Hermione.”

Ron thought about the conversation he’d heard in the library. Yeah, they could have been talking about a present. But it didn’t explain what Hermione had said to Ginny.

“But Hermione told Ginny that you were… that you fancied someone. If it’s not her, why couldn’t you tell me?”

The silence that hung in the air was deafening. Finally, he said, “Because I didn’t want to make things awkward if you don’t feel the same way.” Harry was blushing and fidgeting, refusing to look Ron in the eye.

Ron’s brain was working in slow motion. He could have sworn that Harry just admitted that he…damn! “And what if I do feel the same way?” Ron asked hopefully, reaching over to take hold of Harry’s hand.

“Then I’d say we were both idiots for not saying anything sooner,” said Harry, giving Ron’s hand a squeeze.

“I’ve liked you for ages,” stammered Ron quickly before he lost the courage to speak. “That’s why I told you what I told you – you know, about being gay – in case there was a chance you might be interested. Well, and because I had to tell Hermione so she’d stop hinting for me to ask her out.”

“Yeah, I’d say there’s definitely a chance for us,” replied Harry in a low, quiet voice. Ron could feel Harry’s hand shaking as he grasped it, his demeanor nervous and unsure.

There was an awkward silence between them – now what were they supposed to do? After Ron’s hopes for Harry liking him back had been dashed, he hadn’t bothered to develop any sort of an “action plan.” Ron reached over and gently hooked his fingertips behind Harry’s jaw. He pulled Harry closer until their lips lightly brushed together.

The feather-light contact of Harry’s lips on his sent Ron’s brain into a tizzy. He’d wanted to do that for so long – that and so much more – and now Harry was actually encouraging him. The electric spark that started where their lips met shot through his body, and Ron’s only thought was that he needed to do it again.

Harry shifted, putting his arm around Ron’s waist, and they kissed again, firmer this time. Harry tasted like chocolate and smelled faintly of musk and sweat. Everything about Harry was delicious; Ron found himself wanting to taste more than Harry’s lips, so he ventured a lick in the hollow of Harry’s throat and a nibble just below his right earlobe. Ron felt Harry’s breathing speed up and knew that Harry was appreciating his efforts.

Ron moved back to Harry’s mouth, coaxing Harry’s lips apart with his tongue and slipping it inside. Harry must not have been expecting it, because his eyes flew open and stared into Ron’s, even as a soft moan escaped from his throat.

Harry broke away, gasping for air, but never moving his gaze from Ron. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. Ron had never been one to talk much about emotional things, so he kissed Harry again, this time summoning every passionate thought he’d ever had about him, as if that would somehow convey everything he felt. It seemed that Harry did the same; the energy flowed through him, pooling in his groin. The feelings were so intense they scared him.

“Ron…” whispered Harry, his breathy voice trailing off into another kiss.

“I think this has just replaced ‘Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret’ as the best memory of my life,” Ron said with a snort. Harry laughed and agreed.

Ron could have kissed Harry for hours, and he might have, except that a loud knock on the door caused them to quickly pull apart from each other.

“Are there any dead bodies to clear away?” asked Dean through the closed door.

Harry grinned and called, “No, we’re both okay. It’s safe to come in.”

“Hermione thought it might be a good idea to check up on you two,” Dean said as he entered the dormitory, “although she couldn’t deny that it might give you both a chance to work on your practical Defense skills.” Harry and Dean had a laugh at that, but Ron paled.

“Hermione’s downstairs?” Ron asked, his expression becoming very contrite.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. She was still pretty miffed, until I told her the two of you came up here to work out your problems. Then she got worried.”

Ron stood up from his bed, unconsciously straightening his clothes. “Harry, I’ve got to…well, I was pretty mean…er, I need to apologize to Hermione before she decides never to speak to me again.” He put out his hand to Harry and helped him up from the bed, holding his hand a bit longer than was necessary. Looking directly into his eyes, Ron added, “But I definitely want to continue this discussion right where we left off. Okay?”

“Yes, of course,” replied Harry with a wink. “I think we were really on to something there.”

Ron and Harry followed Dean down the circular steps to the common room, where it seemed the whole of Gryffindor was in a festive mood. Hermione was leaning against the back of an armchair talking to Vicky Frobisher. She excused herself when she saw them heading her way.

Hermione glared at Ron, but winked at Harry when Ron cast his eyes to the ground shamefully. “Well?”

Ron looked up with the most sincere expression he could muster. “Hermione, what I said before… it was uncalled for and I’m really sorry. I don’t blame you for being angry, but I hope you can forgive me.”

Hermione cocked her head as if completely failing to understand why Ron was apologizing. She waved her hand dismissively and said, “Oh, I understand that you were upset. Don’t worry about it. I’m much more interested to know whether the two of you… finally worked everything out.”

Ron and Harry cast sideways glances at each other. Ron blushed up to his ears and Harry’s face broke out in a crooked grin. “You might say we’ve come to an understanding,” Harry said. “And I think it’s safe to say that Ron no longer believes that you and I are dating.”

Visible relief broke out on Hermione’s face, and she pulled them towards her into a hug, clutching one boy with each arm. “Thank goodness for that! The three of us will all be much happier now.”

Harry and Ron made eye contact over the top of Hermione’s head. Mad, she was! Certifiably insane. But for all her irritating mannerisms and pushiness, Ron was convinced now that she’d had a hand in pushing Harry in his direction, and he loved her for it.

Harry must have thought so too, because they all laughed when Harry and Ron said, “Thanks, Hermione,” at the same time. Sometimes it was great to have two best friends.

Return to Magic of Isis Home Page