Title: Not Necessarily Wanting Me

Author: Lorien_Eve

Pairings: Harry/Ron, Ron/Draco

Disclaimer: All the characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I dirtied them up a bit, but I promise to have them nice and clean when I give them back.

Spoilers: Everything

Rating: PG - NC-17, this chapter is PG.

Feedback: I'd love some!

Summary: Ron's in love with Harry, but he's afraid Harry will never feel the same way. Draco helps him forget - even if it's just for a little bit.

Genre: Romance, a little angst, a little drama

Author's Note: I wrote this story for NaNoWriMo back in November. After I went over my word count of 50,000, I set it aside and worked on some other things. The story isn't finished, but I'm still working on it and I'm a little over halfway done. I wanted to go ahead and post it to hopefully put pressure on myself to finish it. This has *not* been beta-ed. No way would I put my beta through such torture. I've read over it myself, but I know I missed a few things, so please excuse any typos and mistakes. I'm really bad at writing summaries, so don't judge the story by my description of it. It's better than it sounds. Honest. Oh, and one more thing I wanted to mention…I know Fred and George are two years, not just one year, older than Ron. I wanted to use them in my story, though, because they’re fun to write, and since it’s *my* story, I can do that. : )

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the Great Hall the following morning, eating their breakfast and discussing their new course schedules.

“Ugh,” Ron moaned, “We’ve got History of Magic first thing. That’s not even worth getting out of bed for.”

“If I know you,” said Hermione, “you’ll get enough sleep in that class to make up for it.”

“You’re right,” Ron agreed. “But look at this-we’ve got Potions after it. Seeing Snape is never a pretty sight, but seeing him early on Monday mornings is even worse.”

“You’re not kidding,” said Harry. “But we’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts right after lunch, and then Transfiguration. That should be fun.”

“I’m so glad Dumbledore hired Professor Lupin again,” said Hermione. “I learned more from him than all the other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers combined. Except for Professor Moody.”

“Yeah, but Moody wasn’t really Moody,” said Harry darkly.

“I know, but still.” Hermione said it like the fact that Barty Crouch, Jr. had been impersonating Mad-Eye Moody for a whole year, and that he had been involved in a complex plot to kill Harry, was nullified because he was a good teacher.

“I see that you’re taking a language course this year,” said Hermione, peering over Ron’s shoulder at his schedule.

“Only as an elective,” said Ron. “We had to have full schedules, didn’t we? It seemed like the best one between Mediwizard training and Advanced Potions.”

“We’d better get going,” said Hermione, looking at her watch. “It’s almost 8.00, and it’ll take us ten minutes to get to Professor Binns’ classroom.”

They slung their bags over their shoulders and had almost made it out of the Great Hall when Professor Lupin stopped them.

“Can I talk to you for a second, Harry?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Harry. “You two go on, I’ll catch up,” he said to Ron and Hermione.

“I won’t keep you,” said Lupin in a low voice, “but I thought maybe you could stop by my room this evening after your classes. Sirius wanted me to show you something.”

“Okay, yeah,” said Harry. “I’ll be there.”

“I’ll see you about 6.00, then?”

“Sounds good.”

****

Harry ran to catch up with Ron and Hermione, who were already at the top of the huge marble staircase.

“You’re not in trouble, are you?” asked Hermione.

“It’s our first day, Hermione. Not even Harry could manage to get in trouble that fast,” said Ron.

“If I remember correctly, four years ago you two crashed a car into the Whomping Willow and almost got expelled even before the school year had started.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that,” said Ron.

“I’m not in trouble,” said Harry shortly. Couldn’t he have a conversation with a teacher without it being something bad? “Professor Lupin just wanted me to stop by and see him this evening.”

“What for?” Ron asked, his curiosity peaking.

“Said Sirius wanted him to show me something, but I’ve got no idea what that’s all about.”

****

History of Magic was just as boring as it had been their previous five years. Though it was the first day of the new school year, it didn’t hinder Professor Binns from giving them pages and pages of notes. Ron was semi-conscious after just ten minutes. Professor Binns’ voice had that effect on people. Harry persevered a little longer than Ron, but by half way through the period, his head was nodding on his shoulders. Only Hermione seemed to be able to stay awake. She had scribbled at least five pages of notes, though Harry thought her eyes looked a little heavy. He only had a page and a half. He’d have to think of some way to persuade her to let Ron and him copy her notes.

As boring as History of Magic was, it was ten times better than Potions. Harry had been relieved when his first class was over, but the thought of his next class made him miss Professor Binns more than he thought possible.

“Who wants to take bets on how many points Snape deducts on the first day?” asked Ron. “I’m going with an even fifty.”

“I’ll say thirty,” said Harry.

Hermione looked at them like they ought to be doing more constructive things with their time. She obviously didn’t want to get in on the pool.

“I’ll take sixty,” Neville said, joining them in the queue outside Snape’s room. “He’ll take at least forty off because of me.”

“Betting is not allowed on the Hogwarts grounds,” Snape informed them, as he swept past their huddle and into the room. Harry hadn’t even seen him coming. “Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“We’re off to a blazing start,” Ron said, as he followed Harry, Hermione, and Neville.

Harry and Ron sat at their usual table, and Hermione and Neville took the one beside it. Malfoy sauntered in a few moments later, Crabbe and Goyle bumbling stupidly along behind him.

“He’s such a stupid git,” Ron muttered to Harry.

Snape stood menacingly behind his desk at the front of the class. His mere presence was enough to make the class grow silent.

“I want to see how much you have studied over the summer,” Snape said in a low, clear voice. “If my assumptions are correct, and I’m sure they are, most of you didn’t as much as crack a book during your vacation.” He turned to the blackboard behind him, on which writing suddenly appeared. “Today you will brew a very complex, very dangerous potion.”

Harry scanned the notes on the board reading ‘Elemental Restorative.’ He’d never even heard of it before.

“Do you any of you know what this potion is?” asked Snape.

Hermione’s hand shot up instantly.

“Just as I suspected,” Snape said, completely ignoring Hermione. “Not one of you has any idea what this potion is used for. I would’ve expected a group of sixth years to be more intelligent.”

“I know what it is, sir,” said Malfoy smugly, not bothering to raise his hand. “It’s a counter to the Polyjuice Potion.”

“Correct, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said. “Ten points to Slytherin.”

Ron groaned. “We should’ve taken bets on how many points Snape would give Slytherin,” he whispered to Harry.

“Mr. Weasley,” hissed Snape, “you will not disrupt my class with your mindless chatter. Ten points from Gryffindor.” He addressed the class once more. “You will find the ingredients to the potion in the supply cabinet. I expect your poor attempts to be finalized by the end of class.”

There was scraping and shuffling as half the class moved to the supply closet to collect the appropriate ingredients.

“I’ll get them,” Ron told Harry, as he pushed his chair back.

“Not used to seeing a full cupboard, are you, Weasley?” mocked Draco, as Ron stood before the cabinet. “None of this is meant for eating, but you’re probably too starved to care.”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Ron said, trying to ignore Malfoy’s remarks and focusing on getting all the required ingredients. “At least my dad’s not eating rubbish in Azkaban.”

That was low, even for a Weasley. Draco felt an anger surging through his arms, and at that moment, he would’ve loved nothing more than to pound the Weasel into the ground. Stupid wanker, he thought. Even in Azkaban, Lucius was probably eating better than the Weasley clan. He would never let Weasley get the upper hand. No, he would have a quick, witty comeback. Those were his specialty.

“When my father escapes Azkaban and joins his Lord, he will have more of a feast than your measly mind could ever imagine. Of course, I’m sure you’d consider a warmed up can of Muggle food a feast at your house.”

Ron took the higher ground and chose to ignore Malfoy’s comment. All Malfoy wanted was to get a rise out of him, and Ron wasn’t going to allow that. He hoped that Lucius would die and rot in Azkaban.

Ron rejoined Harry and spread the ingredients out across the table. He had no clue about how to make this potion, and he hoped that Harry had paid more attention than he had. Apparently, he hadn’t.

“Uh,” said Harry, looking down at the numerous piles of strange looking substances.

“Beats me,” Ron said, reading Harry’s mind.

“Okay, we’ll do what Hermione always suggests. We’ll read. What does the blackboard say? We’ll just follow the instructions, and it should all turn out okay, right?” Harry didn’t look nearly as convinced as he sounded.

“If you say so,” said Ron, looking doubtfully over at Harry.

Harry read the ingredients out loud and helped Ron chop and dice each one into the necessary amounts. When their cauldron was hot enough, they added the amounts slowly, just like the blackboard suggested. It had to simmer for forty-five minutes, but at the end of the time frame, their potion looked almost the way the instructions said it would.

“Good job, mate,” Ron said.

He looked over at Malfoy and Goyle. Their potion looked much the same as his and Harry’s. Ron was hoping that Goyle would mess it up, but apparently Malfoy was proficient enough in potion-making to account for his partner’s lack of competency.

“The class is almost over,” Snape announced at last. “Place a sample of your potion on my desk before you leave. You will get your undoubtedly dismal marks when I feel like giving them to you.”

Harry volunteered to take the vial up to Snape’s desk. Thankfully, that horrendously long period was over and it was time for lunch. Harry and Ron filed out of Snape’s classroom with Hermione and Neville close behind them.

“Snape only took off twenty points. That must be a record. I guess nobody wins the bet,” said Ron.

At that same moment, Snape strolled past them. “What did I tell you about betting on the Hogwarts grounds, Mr. Weasley? Ten more points from Gryffindor.” He said over his shoulder, not bothering to slow his paces.

“How unfair is that?” yelled Ron. “We’re not even in his class anymore!”

“That makes it thirty points, so I guess I win,” Harry said happily. “What’s my prize?”

“You get the honor of reading Snape’s mind,” said Ron.

Harry had had that privilege last year, and he didn’t care for it one bit. “No thanks. I’d just as soon have a Chocolate Frog.”

“Okay,” Ron said, digging into his pockets and depositing the sweet in Harry’s palm. “You get a Chocolate Frog. Happy now?”

They ate lunch in the Great Hall, amid a host of discussions about new classes and new teachers. Ginny complained loudly about her Divination class with Professor Trelawney.

“You’ll get used to it,” said Harry. “She’s that way every year.”

“I’d drop the class, if I were you,” Hermione said knowledgeably. “It’s a perfect waste of time.”

****

Defense Against the Dark Arts was their next subject, and Harry was very much looking forward to it. Not only was Professor Lupin his favorite teacher, but he was also Sirius’s closest friend, and Harry felt nearer to Sirius any time that he was around Lupin.

Harry filed into class with Ron and Hermione behind him. Unlike in their other classes, Harry and Ron took seats in the very front row.

Professor Lupin was sitting behind his desk at the front of the class. His robes looked slightly better than they had the last time Harry had seen him, though they didn’t exactly look new. He didn’t seem as tired and weary, either. Maybe being reinstated as a Hogwarts professor had helped in that area.

The rest of the class looked just as enthusiastic about having Lupin back as Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“It’s nice to see you all again,” Lupin said sincerely, walking around to the front of his desk.

“We’re glad to have you back, too, Professor,” said Seamus. Lupin seemed pleased with the sentiment.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything as interesting as a boggart this year,” Lupin told them, “but we will still be doing practical lessons. A far cry from the way things were done last year, or so I’ve heard.”

The entire class groaned. They didn’t even want to think about the Defense Against the Dark Arts class from the previous year.

“You won’t need your books for this,” he said, “or your desks.” The students rose to their feet hurriedly. He cast a quick Banishing Charm, and all the desks aligned themselves neatly against the far wall.

“What I’m going to teach you today is a very powerful, very effective spell.” He threw an amused glance in Neville’s direction. “When done correctly, that is. Neville, because you did such a fantastic job in my first class, I’d like your assistance with today’s lesson.”

Neville’s face went scarlet all the way to his ears, but he shuffled up to the front of the class where Professor Lupin was standing.

“I want to show you the Stifling Charm. If cast with enough force, it has the ability to annihilate a spell before it has the chance to hit you. It won’t stop all curses, like the Unforgivables, but it’s very capable against other powerful spells. Okay, Neville, this is where you come in.”

Neville straightened up abruptly, and his eyes got wide.

“I want you to cast the Jelly-Legs Jinx on me,” said Lupin.

Harry didn’t think it was possible, but Neville’s eyes grew even larger. “I-I-I don’t…” he started.

Harry wondered if this was such a good idea after all. It was one thing for Neville to fight a boggart along with an entire class and an experienced adult, but casting accurate spells had never been one of his talents.

“Not to worry,” Lupin said reassuringly, “I’ll block it before it reaches me. Go on,” he prodded again, when Neville still looked doubtful.

Neville had barely uttered the jinx when Lupin cried “Nullus!” and a white stream of smoke shot out from the end of his wand. It bore right into the center of Neville’s spell, causing it to explode into pieces of what looked like confetti.

“Wow,” Ron whispered, still staring at the tiny bits floating to the ground.

“That was great, sir,” said Dean, smiling broadly.

“Really nice, Professor,” Hermione agreed, forgetting to raise her hand before speaking.

Neville only looked slightly relieved.

“Okay, now I want each of you to practice your wand movements and saying the incantation. Aim your wands at the floor, though, so you don’t intercede anyone else’s attempts.”

The room filled with different variations of “Nullus!” and piles of tiny, white pieces of paper accumulated on the floor. Hermione, naturally, did hers perfectly the first time. Harry’s wand emitted a few wisps, but not what appeared to be enough to block a curse. Ron accomplished nothing on the first two tries, but after some guidance from Hermione, he got it right.

“I think you’ve all got the idea,” Professor Lupin said after a quarter of an hour. “Pair up, but don’t attack with anything other than the Jelly-Leg Jinx. I don’t want to explain to Madam Pomfrey how I incapacitated an entire class of sixth years.”

Harry paired up with Ron, and Hermione got saddled with Neville. A less competent student might have been concerned, but she seemed very confident in her abilities to prevent any of Neville’s spells from making contact.

“I’ll attack you first,” Harry said to Ron. Ron didn’t seem exactly thrilled about this arrangement, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he held his wand poised and ready, keeping a keen eye on Harry’s motions.

Just as Ron saw the curse leave the tip of Harry’s wand, he cried, “Nullus!” and the jinx exploded with a soft ‘poof!’

“Good one,” said Harry. “Now you do me.”

Ron tried not to think about how tempting it was to take Harry up on that offer. Literally. He cast the Jelly-Legs spell at Harry, who instantly muttered the blocking spell, effectively killing Ron’s curse.

Hermione was faring better against Neville than anyone probably ever had. Neville, on the other hand, was a little slow in learning the Stifling Charm, and Hermione spent half the class picking him up off the floor and apologizing.

“I’m pleased at your progress,” Professor Lupin told the class just before the bell. “We’ll pick it up again tomorrow. You may go.”

They collected their bags, which had been moved to the back of the room along with the desks.

“Don’t forget this evening, Harry,” said Professor Lupin, throwing Harry a smile as he strolled out of the door past them.

****

“So you still haven’t got a clue what Professor Lupin wants to see you about?” Hermione asked over supper that evening in the Great Hall.

“No idea,” said Harry. “It’s got something to do with Sirius, but Professor Lupin doesn’t seem upset, so it can’t be anything bad, can it?”

“He’s not up at the staff table,” said Hermione, scanning the faces of the teachers. “You don’t suppose something’s happened, do you?”

“Nah,” said Ron. “Dumbledore would’ve told Harry if anything was wrong.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Harry said dryly.

“Maybe Sirius wants to set up another meeting at Hogsmeade,” Ron suggested. “When’s the first trip, anyway?”

“Well, it hasn’t been officially announced yet,” Hermione said, leaning in and lowering her voice, “but we Prefects heard it was some time in October.”

“That’s ages away,” said Harry. “Why would he set up a meeting so early?”

“Who knows?” said Ron. “You’ll be finding out soon enough, won’t you? It’s almost 6:00.”

“Take my books up, will you, Ron? I’ll meet you in the Common Room after,” said Harry, sprinting out of the Great Hall and up to the second floor where Professor Lupin’s rooms were.

He came to a halt before a portrait of Sir Edgar Stroulger. He was a bald, shifty-looking wizard, with narrow black eyes. In the palm of his hand spun a small, lighted, spherical object that came to a point on the bottom. Harry recognized it as a Sneakoscope.

“It only lights up when someone dishonest is around,” he accused when Harry approached.

“I’m not dishonest,” said Harry somewhat irritably.

“That’s what they all say, but I know better,” said Sir Edgar with a cackle.

Now that he was standing outside the door to Professor Lupin’s rooms, and arguing with a slandering portrait no less, Harry realized that he didn’t have the password. It was highly unlikely that he’d get it from Sir Edgar.

“Uh, have you seen Professor Lupin around?”

“And what business is that of yours?” demanded Sir Edgar.

“He asked me to meet him here.”

“Ha! A blatant lie, I’ll warrant!”

Just as Harry was about to put his fist through the artwork, it swung forward on its hinges.

“There you are, Harry,” said Lupin, sticking his head out. “On time, too. Come in.”

Harry stepped through the portrait hole, very smug now that he had proven Sir Edgar wrong.

The atmosphere in Professor Lupin’s room was cozy and homey. It wasn’t especially big, but there was a comfortable amount of space. A crackling fire was glowing orange in the grate, and several candles were lit throughout. Two plush cerise velvet chairs stood facing the fireplace. A warm mahogany desk, with roles of parchment scattered on its surface, stood in one corner, next to a tall, coordinating wardrobe. On the other side of the room stood a four-poster bed with red hangings, very much like the one Harry slept in, only slightly larger.

“I’m glad you could make it,” said Lupin kindly. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to one of the stuffed chairs in front of the fire. Harry sat down, and Lupin sat opposite him.

“Is something the matter? With Sirius, I mean?” asked Harry, appreciating Lupin’s hospitality, but being very curious just the same.

Lupin chuckled. “Oh, no. There’s nothing the matter with him at all.”

“But you said there was something-”

“And there is.”

At that moment, out of the shadows of the mantle, a great, shaggy black dog appeared.

“Sirius!” yelled Harry, jumping up from his chair.

Before Harry’s eyes, the canine evolved into the form of his godfather. Sirius looked better than Harry had ever seen him. His hair was as long as it ever was, but not matted and limp. Instead, it was a thick and glossy black that looked almost like ink. Sunken, dull, lifeless eyes were now replaced with bright, glittering ones where long-forgotten hope resided. Flickers from the firelight danced in his pupils when he saw Harry, and his smile was truly genuine.

“Surprised?” he asked, grinning broadly.

Surprised wasn’t the word for it. Harry was too shocked to speak at first.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” he asked, when his mouth could find the words.

“Remus and I talked Dumbledore into letting me stay here,” he said. “This way, I’ll be closer to-the both of you.”

“I thought he wanted you to stay at Grimmauld Place?”

“He did, at first…” Sirius started.

He paused at this statement and crawled easily into Remus’s lap. His long legs hung down from the thick, padded arm of the chair. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked. Harry shook his head, but he felt his cheeks getting warm.

He knew Sirius wasn’t asking for his permission to leave Grimmauld Place, but for his acceptance in being openly affectionate. Over the past few years, Harry had suspected Remus and Sirius of being more than just old school friends. Now he knew his intuitions had been right. He didn’t mind it at all. In fact, he admired both of them, and wished that his and Ron’s friendship would turn out like Remus and his godfather’s.

“Anyway,” continued Sirius, “Dumbledore wanted me to stay there, but with you returning to school and Remus getting his teaching position back, I thought coming back to Hogwarts would be good for me.”

“Are you staying all year?” asked Harry, crossing his fingers that the answer was yes.

“As long as Remus is staying,” he answered, looking fondly at the other man. Remus reciprocated the expression and curled his arms around Sirius’s waist.

“He’s been wanting to tell you all summer,” Remus said to Harry, “but I told him to wait until you got to school, in case the owl got intercepted.”

“And I told you not to worry so much,” said Sirius.

“You know how I am,” said Remus. “I can’t help it.” He rested his head against Sirius’s shoulder.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” said Harry. “I’ll be able to see you everyday.”

“As often as you’d like,” said Sirius. “You know where to find me.”

“I can’t wait to tell Ron and Hermione. They’ll be really happy, too.”

“How was your first day of classes?”

“Just like any other first day, really. I won the bet on how many points Snape would take from Gryffindor.”

“And how many was that?”

“Thirty, but it’s just the first day. He hasn’t gotten warmed up yet.”

“Did he give you homework?”

“Yeah, and so did most of my other teachers.”

“I hope Professor Lupin didn’t,” said Sirius, pressing his lips to the crown of Remus’s hair.

Harry laughed. “No, but he was about the only one who didn’t.”

“I hate to sound too much like a parent, but if you’ve got homework, you’d better get going,” said Sirius. “You can come by again tomorrow, if you want to.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay, we’ll expect you again, around the same time,” said Remus.

Harry turned to walk back through the portrait hole when he stopped and turned around.

“Is it okay if I have the password? That guy out there in the picture is a real pain.”

“Sure,” said Remus.

“It’s ‘crescendo,’” said Sirius, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Harry left Professor Lupin’s room feeling much better than he had when he first arrived. Sirius was staying at Hogwarts! Even though he’d known his godfather for a few years now, they hadn’t had an opportunity to spend a lot of time together. Now, Harry vowed to see him as often as possible. He couldn’t wait to tell Ron and Hermione.

****

As they had planned, Ron and Hermione were in the Gryffindor Common Room when Harry burst through the portrait hole.

“What was it?” asked Ron.

“Was it anything bad?” asked Hermione.

Harry motioned for them to join him in a deserted corner. He didn’t want to mention Sirius’s name out loud.

“Well, tell us!” pressed Ron.

“Sirius!” whispered Harry. “He’s staying at Hogwarts this year.”

“You’re kidding?” said Ron, his voice going louder and causing a few students close by to look up.

“No, I’m serious. He’s rooming with Professor Lupin.”

“Does Dumbledore know about this? You know he wanted Sirius to stay at Grimmauld Place,” said Hermione disapprovingly.

“Dumbledore agreed to it,” Harry told her.

Hermione remained skeptical at first, but at last she seemed to approve. “It’ll be nice having him so close, won’t it?”

“I’m going to see him again tomorrow night,” said Harry.

“Great, we’ll come, too,” said Ron.

“Uh…”

Harry wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t feel like telling either one of his friends about Sirius and Remus’s relationship. He wasn’t embarrassed about it, but he didn’t feel it was the right time. There was a little voice in the back of his head asking him what Ron would do if he found out Harry’s godfather was sleeping with his best male friend. After Fred and George’s antics, Harry wasn’t sure if Ron would handle it very well. If Ron shunned Sirius and Remus like he had Fred and George, how would he react if he ever found out about Harry’s true feelings?

“Uh,” Harry started again, “I don’t think a lot of us need to be going in and out. It might look suspicious.”

Ron looked slightly hurt, but shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, then.”

“You’d better get started on your homework, Harry,” said Hermione. “Professor Binns wants two rolls of parchment on Queen Maeve and how her contributions influenced the founding of Hogwarts.”

“And Professor Langue gave us a list of Mermish verbs to conjugate,” added Ron.

Hermione and Ron, with Harry in tow, returned to their seats at one of the round tables in the common room. Hermione had at least four books out, and Harry wondered how she could manage to study so many subjects at once. Ron had evidently cajoled her, because he was borrowing her History of Magic notes for his essay. Harry pulled a few rolls of parchment out of his bag, grabbed his quill, and craned his neck over to see what Ron had written down so far.

“You’re not copying, are you?” asked Hermione. Her eyebrows were furrowed together.

“Of course, I am,” said Harry. “You don’t expect me to finish all this and do those verb conjugations, do you?”

“I did both of them, and I’m starting the first chapter in Arithmancy.”

“But you don’t have Arithmancy until tomorrow. And you let Ron have your notes. That’s the same thing as copying.”

“It’s not the same thing. I’m merely helping out someone less capable.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Ron, looking up at her.

“Nothing, dear. Nothing at all,” she said, patting his hand.