Ron Weasley and the Alternative Unforgivable Curse

Neville and I had lost track of time, and we lay in bed, just dozing when the bell rings.

"Shit!" I yell, springing up and trying in vain to get dressed. I nearly castrate myself on my underpants. Neville falls over trying to get two legs into one leg of his boxers. It always takes longer to get dressed when you're in a hurry - WHY? Snape knew we were here and if we were late or bunked.... It didn't bear thinking about.

We run into the lesson, breathless and all over the place. An evil smile curls up on Snape's lips. He signals at us to sit down calmly, which we do, eyeing him up warily, wondering if he could read the last hour's events on our faces. Neville is glowing and looks happy even in Snape's lair. But, if I look like this, too, won't he put two and two together? He wouldn't be teaching here at Hogwarts if he weren't smart.

***

Later in the lesson, Neville and I are working on a practical experiment. I'm not listening to Snape, but I think the potion is to ensure short-term memory loss. We're to test it on each other at the end of the lesson. I haven't had a sip of the potion yet, but I can't remember why I'm in this lesson when I could still be lying in bed with Neville.

He's standing right next to me and our arms are touching. We're not speaking. We don't need to speak to one another and if we do, I think Snape and the whole class would discover our trysts because sure as hell, I want to shout out to the world that I'm happy, and that this is the wonder miracle that's making me happy.

The dungeon we're in is dark and smelly. We pack up, and I notice something that looks watery is dripping off stones in a kind of rhythm. I stare at it for a while, before shuddering in thought at what that liquid may be. Whatever it was, it was mesmerising.

Snape is now going round the class slowly, testing the Slytherins' potions and saying 'Well done' when they say they don't know who they are - this is such a bloody farce, and they are so obviously lying. There is no visible sign that the potion had worked apart from their word, and they aren't going to tell the truth, are they? They are blatantly lying as they often have this wave of panic in their faces before they answer a question like: 'What is your name?'. Neville nudges me to get my attention. I remember how fearful of Snape he used to be. Now he just heavily dislikes him and won't trust him as far as he would push him with his piss. He's composed himself very well, and I'm so proud of him for trying to stand up to the greasy git. I want to kiss him right now.

Just as he walks to us, he takes a detour, and samples Malfoy's potion, which he is probably expecting to be amazing. Snape passes the levelled spoon over to the smug-looking twat who tastes it like it was something disgusting - like it's spinach (ugh!). Snape then asks Malfoy 'Who are you?' The little runt turns to him, panic spread over his face. THE POTION HADN'T WORKED! He puts on really badly these lost child eyes and says in a meek tone 'I don't know'. It is some really bad acting; even Ginny's primary school nativity was better than this.

I am not joking and I'm absolutely disgusted and I can't believe that I have lived to witness this: Snape is smiling! It's gruesome sight. I watch as the dark eyes light up a kind of greenish browny tinge. The withered and dry lips stretch and crack, and there looks to be the appearance of cheekbones. One word: Yuck! I look at Neville. He's shivering visibly, the poor thing. I reach beneath the desk to touch his hand briefly to comfort him.

Snape finishes smiling, and sets a nasty look on his face. This spells trouble. I'm sure something bad is going to happen. Snape paces over to us with obvious malicious intent and sneers at our potion. 'Save the best 'til last' he purrs sarcastically. The thought of him making such a strange and almost alluring voice is enough to make me want to run into the corner, rock and suck my thumb until my mum comes round to the school and hugs it all better. He peers into our cauldron and his eyes widen in surprise. He seems amazed, for once we had been successful: our potion was exactly the same colour as had been described in the textbook. Neville and me could believe it, but we'd done it - without Hermione's help as well.

Immediately, his eyes narrow. He thinks he has to save face in front of the Slytherins. He gropes for something in his robes, doesn't find it, and delves into his desk drawer loudly saying that our potion is too strong and he must put something in the mixture to weaken it or we will never fully recover. He's obviously talking bollocks, but I keep my mouth shut, as I may need a reference from him when I leave this year. Snape is an unlikely force to be reckoned with and is as stubborn and determined to succeed as we are.

He takes a little bottle out of his robes. It's a delicate looking thing and made of frosted glass; it has a clear liquid swishing suspiciously in it. He pours the tiniest drop into the potion and it sizzles for a second before it calms down and slowly extracts the pigment from the potion. The mixture is now vaguely light blue.

Neville and I stare at the potion apprehensively and glance warily at Snape. 'Are either of you going to taste it?' He snaps. I look at him with contempt and forcefully hold Neville's gaze to say I'm going to taste the potion. I snatch the spoon from the desk and dip it into the cauldron quickly as if I'm showing this evil man I mean business. Neville appears a nervous wreck next to me. He hates this subject and whatever Snape had put in there, I reckon as far as he's concerned Snape either means to kill me: The belligerent redhead, friends with the 'celebrity' Harry Potter. Or he was hoping I get an allergic reaction and die before Madame Pomfrey can save me.

I bring the spoon carefully out of the cauldron and quickly shove it viciously into my mouth before I could voice any qualms and chicken out. I feel my hands shaking, but they look rock steady. I swallow and taste, it's cool and like salad, and it slips down my throat easily. I believe I'm completely at peace, my mind is blank and I'm woozy and floaty.

Snape stares at me intently until he's satisfied I'm out of it enough not to be conscious of what I'm answering. He had been sitting on an empty stool that Hermione would have usually taken up but slowly rises; his bones crack as he stands to his full height, which was just under my six feet two inches. He slinks noiselessly behind me and bends down at a leisurely speed that would suit an old man, but easier, more flowingly. 'What did YOU do before this lesson Ronald Weasley?'

Neville looks at me with horror in his eyes. He's concerned that I won't remember. He whispers in my ear. It's a stage whisper. It's loud and I sense menacing hot breath on my ear. 'What to not remember; I know he's thinking that. Another conjecture of his may be that Snape is spiking the potion with a truth serum. I think he's going to be hurt if I say 'I don't know' or 'Nothing'. Or even worse for the Slytherins to hear 'Indulging in foreplay with Neville!'. It would kill him. I ignore the lad sitting next to me and turn to the man who asked me the question. I don't know anything. I vainly search for a memory, but one won't come. It's a struggle to find the words to speak. He looks satisfied and is kicking back on the stool and smirking with his arms folded defiantly. I finally find the words to answer him, but I hold back. I have a strange feeling that I really want to tell the truth, but I don't remember what it was. I open my mouth to answer, it's taking a long time, and I'm stammering heavily, playing for time. 'I don't know, I don't remember what I did.' I can hear myself answer.

I look at Snape who is obviously disappointed he hadn't been given a juicy answer. His face falls into a mean scowl and his expression twists and looks at me like I'm the scum on scum-- no change there-- and hurriedly jumps off his stool, and sits back at his comfy chair at the other end of the classroom. I turn to Neville, he smiles at me wanly; he's obviously pleased that I hadn't divulged our secret, but crushed that for the moment I couldn't remember out our time together. I think about whether I would have felt the same if Neville couldn't remember what we had done. I came to the conclusion that I would have been absolutely devastated.

***

After the lesson, Neville goes out around the grounds for a run, I don't want to go, so I hang out by the lake instead and watch all the life under there and I start to think about who I really am.

How do I feel now I am being gay?

I'm still really confused. Who am I?

The other day, I was bad mouthing homosexuals. Now I am one, aren't I?

Just because I have had a couple of experiences, I'm suddenly pigeonholed. I don't want to be labelled as one thing. Can't I just be Ron, not 'The gay bloke who is dating the body builder and the best friend of that Harry Potter'?

If I decide this isn't for me, can I leave being gay, like leaving a job?

What do I tell people if I decide that this is the sexual orientation for me? How do I tell them? I feel so guilty, I know I have five brothers and one sister who are straight and they can carry on the Weasley line, but my parents are still going to be disappointed. I don't know any gay wizards funnily enough. I think I blame the Muggles for this. But then again, if gayness wasn't about, would we be unhappy because we feel something is wrong? We don't know what and we can't express it. I really don't know about this.

I like doing the gay intimacy thing, but I haven't been with a girl, so shouldn't I know what that is like before I say I am one thing?

If I stop being gay, will girls date me? Or will I have to go on the other side of the world to find someone, who may end up knowing and wondering if I am going to slip, or take advantage of it for their own twisted pleasure?

It's so confusing. I mean, if I decide that I am gay and I want to be with Neville, how do we conduct a relationship here when everyone is back from Italy? There would be no privacy, me and Neville are going to want to do it, and I would feel selfish kicking everyone out, and secrets don't stay secret for long.

Will our friends reject us? Harry is going to be disgusted. He says he doesn't care if someone is gay, but we have shared a room so many times that maybe he will feel cheated and that I am after him. I'm not, I think I like the big muscley type like Neville, all masculine, not like your typical feminine queers with their loud shirts etc etc.

What the fuck is Hermione going to say? She thinks that gays are attention seekers. I am not an attention seeker. I just want to get on with my life, and I don't want the school to know my business. How will she cope? I don't want her to shun me. Will the rest of the boys in Gryffindor think I am after them as well?

But it won't just be me coming out will it? Neville will be stepping out of the closet. Will we stand the test of time and stay together? The strain of the bullying and not being able to be physically close has got to take its toll. We won't last a week, and we may and end up not being friends anymore. I'd hate that, it seems that we aren't really that close, but Neville has been a good mate to me over the years.

I couldn't hack the harassment of the Slytherins. I'm certain that Snape was onto me this lesson. Maybe he saw us all happy and the way we were looking at each other. Maybe he saw me touch his hand. How would we cope with Malfoy? His dad would be petitioning to get Neville and I the hell out of this school and out of all others on this planet. That man is rich and as I once heard some northern old bloke say 'Those rich folk - they can do owt they want'. He was very right. We would be a disgrace. He would go on for months, possibly until we left this school and after. I have no idea how wizards respond to the gay community; no one ever talks about it.

Would Dumbledore expel us? I mean it's a pretty nasty business, isn't it? And Rita Skeeter would make a hell of a meal out of it, saying the school's standards have dropped.

But I think I think too much. Who says this isn't going to fizzle out and we will be the same as before. We're teenagers for goodness sake! No teenage relationship actually lasts long, does it? Maybe apart from my parents who are aeons old, but that was a heterosexual relationship.

Why do I care so much about what people think of me? I am living my life, and I feel really bad for judging everybody now based on reputation, looks, grades, and family life. Who cares as long as they're a nice person? I'm a nice person aren't I? I try my best.

I have now come to the conclusion that I need more deliberation. I need to talk to Neville and we need to see if we will confide in the people we love most and see their reaction, get them used to it and prepare for it to leak out. Someone is bound to give and tell others.

I am not getting very far, am I? These thoughts are just revolving round my head and I can't control them, they are spinning round like a merry go round with the painted horses as an idea each as a different idea and you are trying to see the decoration, but it is spinning around way too fast and you end up dazed and confused and feeling sick.

I stay still as my stomach tries to revolt. I didn't know what to think anymore let alone what to do. Everything I thought about me in my romantic life has changed, which to an adult is insignificant, but big to us. Everything has totally changed and I couldn't tell you even what day it was.

This is not going to be easy.