Title:  Days of Awe
Author:  Lorien_Eve
Pairing:  Harry/Ron
Rating:  NC-17
Genre:  Drama/Angst
Archive:  You’re more than welcome, just let me know!
Spoilers:  Just from OotP.
Disclaimer:  They’re all J.K. Rowling’s.  Sadly, not one of them belongs to me.  I promise, the books would have a much different rating if they did!
Feedback:  Yes, please!
Summary:  Harry and Ron are separated in a battle against an army of Death Eaters. Harry thinks Ron’s dead. Ron thinks Harry’s not coming back. They find consolation in other people and places. Lives are changed and loves are destroyed when they meet again.

Author’s notes: A huge thanks to Lena, who, only through dedication and a strong stomach, was able to beta some of the later chapters.

Man has places in his heart which do not yet exist, and into them enters suffering in order that they may have existence.
-Leon Bloy



Harry Apparated softly into the kitchen at the Burrow.

Hermione gaped at him. 

By the red hair, Harry could see that she was sitting with one of the Weasleys.  It looked like…but no, he was dead.

“Uh, Ron…” said Hermione again.

“Yeah?” asked Ron, without turning around.

“Ron?” came another voice.

Ron jerked up straight.  It had been a long time, but he’d never forget that voice.  He pushed Hermione to the floor in an effort to stand up.

“Harry?” He almost screamed the name.

“Ron?  But you’re dead…” Disbelief and amazement filled Harry like rushing water. He felt it rising slowly through his legs and filling his chest, and though he had no fear of suffocation, his legs felt weak. He stood, staring, afraid to believe what he was seeing.

“I’m not, I’m fine!” said Ron, rushing over to Harry and engulfing him in his arms.

Harry was still in shock, but he grasped Ron tightly around the waist and concealed his tears in Ron’s chest.

“But how did you…where had you been?” he asked, not pulling away from Ron’s embrace.

“I ought to be the one asking you that,” said Ron, with a look of utter bliss that no one had seen him show in a long time.

“I’ve been in Ireland.  But that doesn’t matter now,” Harry said hurriedly, before looking up and seizing Ron’s mouth desperately with his own.

The kiss was deep and emotional and passionate and clumsy all at the same time.  They didn’t care where their mouths were, as long as they made contact.  For years, this was all either one had thought about, though they both knew they’d never get the chance again.  Harry clung to Ron, as if letting him go would mean losing him all over again.  Ron was holding Harry so tight that the muscles in his arms ached.

Ron broke the kiss at last, but barely moved his lips away from Harry’s.  They were both trying to catch their breath.

He placed his forehead against Harry’s.  “I love you,” he said, grinning madly.

Harry smiled back.  “I love you, too.”

Harry kissed him again. It was less sloppy this time, but just as eager.

“Tell me what happened to you!” Harry said at last.

“It’s a long story, really,” said Ron.  “I don’t remember the first part, but later I found out that Shacklebolt rescued me and levitated me into the woods.  I woke up several days later in pretty bad shape.  I found this Muggle house, and they let me stay there until I was better.  I wanted to let you know, but I didn’t have any way of getting a message to you.  You left the same night I came back.”

Harry could’ve cried.  Again. Why had he been so selfish?  If he’d only stuck it out a few more hours, all the misery he had gone through and all the tears he had cried in these five years would’ve been avoided.  Ron could tell by the look on Harry’s face what he was thinking.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing Harry’s chin and lifting it up.  “Forget all that.  We’re together now, and that’s all that matters.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile.  He had Ron back, and nothing else mattered.  “You’re right.”

“C’mon, let’s go tell Mum and Dad,” said Ron, jerking Harry by the hand.

Hermione stood there pitifully, looking after them with tears welling up in her eyes.

****

“Mum, Dad, look!” yelled Ron, swinging Harry by the arm into the living room.

“Harry!” squealed Mrs. Weasley, jumping from the chair and rushing over to him.  She crushed him against her with such a force that his glasses almost fell off.  “We didn’t think you’d ever come back!  It’s so wonderful to see you again!”

Mr. Weasley joined his wife and patted the small bit of Harry’s back that wasn’t covered by Mrs. Weasley’s arms.

“It’s really nice to have you back,” he said with a warm smile.

“Where did you go?” yelled Mrs. Weasley.  “Just up and leaving like that! You had us worried sick!”

All of a sudden, Harry knew how Ron had felt that time he, Fred, and George took Mr. Weasley’s flying Ford Anglia to free Harry from the Dursleys.  Mrs. Weasley was truly scary when she was angry. Thankfully, Ron rescued him once again.

“Lay off, would you, Mum?” Ron said, stepping up behind Harry and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.  “He’s back now, and I’m not letting him out of my sight.”

Mrs. Weasley shot him an uneasy look.  “Have you told…”

“Later, Mum,” said Ron under his breath, hoping Harry wouldn’t notice.

Harry detected something pass between them, but he was too happy to care.

“I’m sorry about leaving like that,” he tried to explain.  “I thought it would be easier if I didn’t see you before I left.  I’ve felt terrible about it ever since.  I’ve been living in Ireland for the past five years.”

Hermione snuck in quietly and sat down on the corner of the sofa.  She was truly glad Harry was back, and was curious as to what had happened to him.

“Why Ireland?” asked Ron, sitting in the chair that Mrs. Weasley had vacated and pulling Harry down into his lap.

“Why not? I heard Seamus talking about it enough back in school.  I needed some place to go, and it looked as good as any other.”

“But for five years?” asked Mrs. Weasley.  “What on earth have you been doing there all that time?”

“Nothing, really.  I never felt like doing much.”  It was close enough to the truth.  Sean wasn’t important in the story, and Harry much preferred to leave his name out of it. “So, what’s happened while I was away?” he asked, trying to switch the subject.

Mrs. Weasley gave Ron another warning look.

“A whole lot of nothing,” said Ron.  “Nothing was the same without you, Harry.”

“Too true, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley.  “Ron was perfectly miserable without you.”

“The Ministry won’t let me do my job anymore,” scowled Ron.  “Said I’d be too careless on the field.”

“But you’re still an Auror, aren’t you?” asked Harry, rubbing Ron’s thumb with his own.

“Well, they call me one, but I don’t feel like one.  I’ve got a damn desk job now.  They gave me that map of yours to work on.  Honestly, Harry, I don’t see how you did it.  It’s boring.”

Harry had to laugh at him.  It was just like Ron to think something productive was boring.

He looked over to Hermione, noticing her presence for the first time.

“How about you?” he asked, smiling at her.  “Still busy showing Snape what a real professor is like?”

She tried to smile back at him, but found it difficult.  “Yes, I’m still teaching,” she forced out.

“No more explanations,” said Ron firmly, kissing Harry on the cheek.  “We’ve already wasted too much time talking.  We’ll have to sleep here.  I had the stuff moved out of the flat.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” said Harry, getting up and following Ron out of the room.  He didn’t care where he slept, as long as it was with Ron.

Mrs. Weasley made a soft grunt of disapproval. She didn’t agree with the choices Ron was making, but she wanted to give him time to set things right on his own.

Hermione watched them disappear up the stairs, but she didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” said Mrs. Weasley, turning to the girl.  “I tried to get Ron to tell him, but he doesn’t want to yet.”

“It’s okay,” said Hermione, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.  “Ron’s happy again.”

****

When Harry entered Ron’s bedroom, his mind swept back to those five years ago, when he, Harry, sat alone, missing Ron more than he thought possible.  Little did he know that the next time he’d be in the room, Ron would be with him.

Something was different, though.  Ron’s room was neater than Harry had ever seen it.  Plus, there were several of Hermione’s things sitting out, most notably a crisp black robe that Harry supposed she wore to school.

“What’s Hermione’s stuff doing in here?” he asked.

Ron blanched and thought as fast as he could. “I can’t believe I forgot to mention it!” he said, hoping this new information would take Harry’s mind off the original question.  “Hermione’s parents are dead.  They were murdered by a group of Death Eaters not long after you left.”

“What?” said Harry, sitting down on the bed, his eyes wide and his mouth open.

“She’s had it rough, Hermione has.  First me, then you, then her parents.  She’s lonely, you know, staying at Hogwarts by herself, so she comes over here sometimes.  She stays in Percy’s room,” Ron added in a hurry.  That sounded convincing enough.  The truth could wait.  He’d tell Harry, just not tonight.

“I should’ve been here for her.  Instead, I up and leave without a word to anyone,” said Harry miserably.

“I told you, Harry, don’t worry yourself over it.  Everything’s fine now,” Ron reassured him.

Harry smiled up at him.  “You’re right.”

Harry pulled Ron over towards him on the bed. Ron sat on Harry’s lap, facing him, with a knee on either side of Harry’s thighs.  Harry cupped Ron’s face in his hands, letting the tips of his fingers brush across Ron’s hair.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, “your hair’s a lot shorter than I’m used to.”

“Yeah, well, Hermione, you know.  She thought I ought to keep up my appearance,” he said dryly.

Harry laughed.  “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

Ron looked down at Harry, his eyes wet and dilated with emotion.  Harry pulled Ron closer and kissed his jaw, moving down to his neck.  Ron’s neck was supple and smooth, and Harry felt like he could inhale every inch of it.  He could feel Ron’s warm breath tingling against his cheek.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Ron breathed in Harry’s ear.

Harry caught Ron’s mouth again with his own, his tongue forcing its way in and tangling itself with Ron’s.  Ron let out a groan from deep in his throat as his hands fumbled with the buttons on Harry’s shirt.

The cool air in the room met with Harry’s exposed chest, and urged him to remove Ron’s shirt.  He groped at the too-large buttons with seemingly chunky fingers.  He didn’t think he could get Ron’s clothes off fast enough.   No sooner had he released the last obstinate button than he reached for the collar and jerked it down off Ron’s shoulders.  Ron gasped, jerking away from Harry’s lips, as the cold air made a sudden contact his warm skin.

Harry, in an effort to make up for the loss of warmth, moved his mouth to Ron’s chest, licking and placing wet, hot kisses around his nipples.  Ron tilted his head back, reveling in the feeling of Harry’s salivating mouth assaulting his flesh.  Harry attacked him with renewed eagerness before he felt Ron grab a fistful of his hair and jerk his head backwards.  This time, Ron found Harry’s neck, biting and pinching with his mouth.

Harry blindly floundered with the button on Ron’s pants, desperately trying to free the amplifying hardness he could feel pressing into his abdomen.

Ron trailed kisses down Harry’s throat, pausing at the veins on the side of his neck to feel his pulse quicken with every plausible second.  Ron felt his cock being released before it was quickly wrapped up again in willing fingers.

Harry stroked Ron slowly, but used a tight grip, which increased in pressure at just the right places.  He pulled upwards, the skin wrinkling in the precession of his hand.  Ron tugged around Harry’s hips at his unbuttoned jeans, but with him sitting down, he couldn’t remove them.

“Take them off,” commanded Ron, barely audible over his heavy breathing.

Harry pressed his lips aggressively to Ron’s, pushing him up so that he could stand.  Ron jerked Harry’s jeans to the floor, and Harry wriggled his feet out of them, never disrupting the kiss.  Ron then pulled his own pants down and kicked them off with his feet.

They were each completely naked now, and both their breaths hitched in their throats when their erections collided.  Reluctantly, Harry broke the kiss and clambered back onto the bed, planting his hands and knees firmly against the sagging mattress.  Ron followed suit and climbed behind Harry, his cock sliding between Harry’s arse cheeks.  Ron draped himself over Harry’s back, grinding his cock up and down, his chest rubbing across Harry’s back.  He reached down for Harry’s cock and traced a finger around the width of it, ascending slowly until he reached the tip.  He swirled his fingers around the distinct wetness seeping from it.  Gathering the pre-cum between his fingers, Ron stroked downwards, faster this time, then jerked up again swiftly.  He felt Harry’s groan rumble through his own body, encouraging him to quicken his movements.

Harry’s compliances grew gradually, and Ron soon found himself holding desperately to Harry’s hips, feeling his back contorting under the stimulation.

“Ron…”

It was all Harry could manage to say.  He was so close to coming. He felt his balls drawing up, and then a tingle rose from his stomach to the end of his cock.

“Turn over,” said Ron, between the light kisses he placed from Harry’s shoulders all the way to his lower back.

Harry turned his head to the side, seeing Ron out of his peripheral vision.

“Why?”

“I want to see you when you come.  I’ve missed this.”

Harry obliged and rolled over on his back, wrapping his legs around Ron’s thighs.  Ron ran his hand up to the tip of Harry’s cock one last time, collecting more pre-cum to add to his own.  Lubricating himself, he pushed against Harry’s opening, garnering a whimper from the body below him.  He pushed again, then a couple more times, until he found himself completely inside Harry.

Harry’s breath caught somewhere between his throat and his mouth when he felt Ron fully inside him.  Ron bent down and licked his tongue over Harry’s lips, teasingly, jerking away just before Harry could capture it.  Harry moaned in protest, and Ron couldn’t resist any longer.  He wondered if he’d ever been able to resist Harry.  After a few more elicit gestures, he took Harry’s mouth captive, demanding total control.

All the while, he had been sliding in and out proficiently, his whole being registering the familiar body beneath his.  He felt his climax approaching, and sped up his thrusts, taking Harry’s cock in his hand.  When he pushed in, he stroked downwards, and when he pulled out, he stroked upwards.  Harry began writhing beneath him, muttering things Ron couldn’t quite make out, though he didn’t know if he could even comprehend them at this point.

Ron’s own gasps got louder and more frequent as he got closer to release.  He could tell Harry was close, too, because he could barely hold him on the bed, and Harry’s nails were digging sharply into the back of Ron’s knees.

Ron gave a few final thrusts and leaned down to kiss Harry before he came violently inside him.  Ron’s lips froze against Harry’s mouth, and he exhaled deeply as the last of his climax washed over him.  Harry was mere seconds away from coming himself, but when Ron’s warmth filled him, he found a completion like he hadn’t known in a long time. He came suddenly, squirting the thick, white liquid all over Ron’s hand.

Ron licked the remnants of Harry’s orgasm away and bent down to kiss him.  Harry recognized the faint taste of salty sweat and the bitter taste of his own come on Ron’s tongue.  Ron’s elbows gave way and he fell wearily on top of Harry.  Harry maneuvered himself to one side, still keeping contact with the damp, scented skin next to him.

****

Harry woke slowly and reluctantly the next morning.  Ron felt warm and soft next to him, and he snuggled closer, delighting in the feel of Ron’s skin next to his.  His shuffling woke Ron up, and he looked over at Harry with sleep-heavy eyes.  Neither one spoke, because the kiss that Ron put on Harry’s lips expressed what both of them had been feeling.  Harry positioned himself on Ron’s chest so that they each had better access.  Quite differently from last night, the kisses were slow and easy.  Harry lay his head down against Ron’s chest, and let his arm hang lazily over the side of the bed.  Ron kissed Harry on the top of the head and ran a finger leisurely up and down his arm.

“Think it’d be rude if we stayed in here all day?” Ron wondered aloud.

“Probably.”

“I don’t ever want to get out of bed,” Ron continued, enveloping Harry in a tight embrace.

“Neither do I, really,” Harry started, “but well…”

“What?”

Harry bit his lip.  “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Ron chuckled.  “I should’ve known.”

Harry stumbled out of bed, and Ron gave him a sharp smack on the arse as he walked away.

****

A thudding of footsteps told Ron that Harry was on his way back to the bedroom.

“Why is all of Hermione’s stuff in the bathroom up here?  I thought you said she slept in Percy’s room on the lower floor.”

“Well, she does,” Ron lied.  “It’s just…she…likes this one better.”

Ron hoped Harry would stop asking questions.  He hadn’t had time to devise a believable story for it all yet.

Harry looked doubtful, but shrugged and said, “I didn’t bring any other clothes with me.  I’m going to get a pair—”

“Wait!”

Ron saw Harry going for the wardrobe, but he tried to stop him.  All of Hermione’s clothes were hanging in there, and if Harry saw that, it’d be nearly impossible for Ron to explain his way out of it.

It was too late.  Harry had already opened the door of the wardrobe.  His hand was still on the knob, but he turned to face Ron with a look of slow comprehension.

“Just why is every article of clothing that Hermione owns in your wardrobe?” he accused.

“Harry, I can explain…”

“I wish you would.”

Damn it, Ron thought.  It wasn’t that he hadn’t planned on telling Harry about him and Hermione.  He knew it was unfair to Hermione, but even more than that, it was unfair to Harry.  He just hadn’t planned on doing it so soon.  Harry had only come back last night, and Ron had hoped that they could have a few ignorantly blissful days.  He trusted in his and Harry’s relationship, but he couldn’t dismiss the notion that this new information would throw a wrench into things.

“Come here,” he said to Harry, sitting down on the bed and patting the empty place next to him.  “There’s something you need to know.”