Home Is Where the Heart Is

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Harry looked at the wall clock, which featured a hand for each Weasley. He sighed. He had longed to belong somewhere, and grew envious of his best friend. Was it wrong to want Ron's family for his own? He had been furious with Fred and George this morning when they kidnapped him from Privet Drive, but he had to admit that anywhere was better than the Dursleys'. The only good thing about the past two weeks was that Dudley had ceased to go out of his way to make Harry's life miserable. Of course, it hardly mattered, since his life could not get much worse.
As Ron entered the kitchen, Harry realized that he had spoken too soon... Ron's hair, mussed from sleep, stuck out in all directions as if mocking Harry's hair. Harry had to stifle the urge to smooth it down with his hand, to stroke his cheek in passing. He quickly turned his upraised hand into a sort of mock salute instead. Ron returned it sleepily and yawned, pulling out a chair from the table. There were many empty chairs; why did he have to sit so close to Harry? Harry began to sweat, fingering the neck of his shirt. His fingers trembled as he spread jam on his toast.
Suddenly he felt Ron's hand upon his own, providing a steady pressure as he guided the knife across the bread. Harry chanced a glance at Ron's face, flushed with some potent emotion; whether embarrassment or excitement, it was difficult to say.
"The marmalade is the best, although I prefer it on scones," Ron announced lazily, forgetting to let go of Harry's hand when the task was completed. He looked into Harry's eyes, and a crease appeared upon his forehead. He leaned in closer, studying his face. For a moment Harry thought he was about to be kissed, and he considered how he felt about that. His heart began to race as Ron's face drew dangerously close.
"Are you alright, mate? You look like you've seen Snape naked or something."
Harry was startled out of his thoughts, cringing at the mental picture. "Thanks a lot, mate!" he groaned.
Ron smiled happily. He said lightly, "Anytime. So, what's on your mind, then?"
"I don't think I can talk about it right now." He looked down at their joined hands.
Ron sadly asked, "It's Sirius, isn't it? Hermione spoke to you, didn't she? I told her to back off, that you would talk about it when you were ready, but no, she has to go and bring up the fact that you've lost the only..." Ron stopped, horror-stricken. He apologized profusely. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to..."
Harry smiled weakly. "Ron, that's not what... Sirius is gone, okay? I have to deal with it. I appreciate your concern, really, but can we just drop it for now? Besides, that's not what I was thinking about." His thumb began to trace a circle upon Ron's wrist, as he shyly looked up into his friend's startled face.
Ron stammered, "W-what exactly were you thinking about?" He gulped noisily, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Harry summoned his courage and was about to tell Ron the truth, when Fred's voice caused him to jump. "Oi! Kiss him already so we can eat our breakfast!"
George chimed in, "Yeah; plant one right on the old smacker!"
Ron and Harry leapt apart, as if doused by cold water. They grinned sheepishly at each other, inwardly cursing the twins for their interference. Just then, their mother entered the kitchen.
"Harry!" she shouted, crossing the room to him. Wordlessly, he allowed himself to be drawn into her arms, for once not minding that she was almost crushing his ribs. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining that Lily was the one holding him, smoothing his hair out of his eyes. He said a silent prayer that his mother would understand how much he needed this family. And how much he needed Ron...
"Mum," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. He felt her stiffen momentarily, and when he opened his eyes, he could see that Molly had tears in her eyes, too.
"I know you wish your mother were the one to hold you like this, but will you accept me as a pale substitute?" she asked tentatively. Harry looked to Ron, his eyes begging for his consent.

Ron nodded, saying, "I don't have much, Harry, but everything I have is yours. I thought you already knew that." Before his courage failed him, Ron swiftly kissed his cheek, and fled from the room. Harry touched his cheek in wonder, realizing that Hermione, for once, was wrong.
Ron did not have the emotional range of a teaspoon at all.