Ron Weasley and the Alternative Unforgivable Curse

Ron

Gay Sex, Gay Sex, Ron's been having Gay Sex. Are the words that are fitting to the rhythm of my movements, footsteps, writing, flying, eating, showering. I can't think of nothing else today, and it makes me feel selfish and uncaring.

Neville and I have been taken into McGonagall's office gently by a solemn house elf and we're sitting down with a cup of tea and biscuits pressed by our housemistress that is twittering aimlessly along with small talk about how maybe it was a good thing we hadn't gone on this trip to Italy with the others. I'm going to shout in a minute to tell her to get to the point as when she next ends this pathetically boring topic. She's finished now, and rambling on to the next one, with no chance for me to get a word in edgeways. But she's got all nervous and stammering. I want to yell: 'Spit it out!'

Neville gets there before I do. He calmly asks her what does she want to tell us. She stops dead. Her mouth is twitching and lines are appearing. She doesn't look happy; in fact I think she might even start blubbering, but why in front of us? I'm male. I can't take women crying.

Oh for Merlin's sake woman, GET ON WITH IT!

Is she serious in what she is telling us? Oh Merlin, it's not true, it can't be. Professor McGonagall is telling us that our friends are in serious danger. You-Know-Who has got wind that Harry is away from Dumbledore and far away in Italy. He and several Death Eaters are after him to kill him. They are closing up on the group and Harry has only just heard, there may not have been time for escape - she doesn't know if the dark side have got him or not, or even if the others are safe.

I don't believe this. Is this my punishment for letting Neville inside me? IS THIS MERLIN'S PUNISHMENT? Neville is a heap in his chair, obviously in shock. I'm not far off it, I can't say anything, and I can't form words to talk. Looking at McGonagall is impossible - but I know she is looking at me in pity.

"They might have got my owl yesterday, that is plenty of time to disperse the group and hide Harry and get him back to Hogwarts. I'm sure they are safe boys."

"No you aren't Professor, you're just saying that. You have no idea where they are, you cannot possibly speculate." Neville says brusquely. I'm quite in shock at this. He's taking over. I can't speak. Someone needs to talk, and it better be him.

McGonagall bows her head; I don't think Neville has said the right thing. He's made her feel guilty.

"I do not know what to do or say or anything, Dumbledore is doing his best to find them and get them all home safely,"

I stay silent throughout this. I'm still thinking of Neville. I am a bad person. On one hand, there is my grief that I might have lost all my friends, on the other, my guilt of thinking about sex at a time like this.

I am a bad person.

***

There is nothing to do but wait until we hear an answer. Three days pass and I go through the motions of living, eating two meals a day, pretending to listen in class, sleeping alone. Neville is never too far away from me and he watches me just staring at the walls, not speaking. Sometimes, he may hold my hand, others, he's just sitting there. I can't say enough how much it means to me for him to do that. He doesn't have to, but I have to remember that they are his friends too.

I come so close to crying, it's been the third day we haven't heard anything. I hate crying. It isn't really what a man does, but I enter the dorm that lunchtime, and I find Neville with red eyes and a sticky face. I sit on the bed next to him and he takes my hand and pulls me into an awkward embrace. I start to cry too. I hate crying.

***

Four days pass; five days pass, it's the sixth day now, and we hold very little hope of being contacted. You-Know-Who has obviously killed them all and duelled Harry and killed him too. They hadn't been warned in time.

McGonagall calls us into her office every day and tells us the same thing that there is no news and asks us how we were doing and that sometimes no news * is * good news. I don't believe her and just stare at the top of her head.

This is hell, a taster of my condemnation to it. And surely I'm going to hell.

***

Seven days have now passed since we had heard that Harry and the Gryffindors were close to attack from the dark side. It is nearly the eighth day; I'm in bed lying there. I can't sleep.

Neville is in the bed next to me, he's silent too, he is awake, and I know it because I can't hear him snore.

I hear a frantic tapping making its way closer to the dormitory. Then, McGonagall comes bursting in, dressed in a tartan nightgown, scraps of paper hanging from her hand. I sit upright in bed and call Neville; he opens the curtains from his four-poster and looked at our housemistress in hope.

"They're ok! I've got an owl from Hermione," she says. I'm not sure if I'm hearing her right. I know what she is saying, but it doesn't register.... SHIT THEY REALLY ARE ALIVE!

I jump up and snatch the paper from her hands and begin to read.

Over the top I can hear McGonagall tell Neville how a doll had been sent to the school and when she started to play with it and take a dummy out of its mouth, letters flew out from the Gryffindors, stating where they were, plans, how they were going to get back and when.

I read Hermione's letter.

Dear Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Ron and Neville.

We are safe. We got the owl warning us of Voldemort's arrival hours before they did come.

We all left as soon as possible and placed that charm of us blending into the background - a sort of chameleon one. I made sure we split up into twos and threes and changed our appearances by Muggle and magic ways. The owl has been round every group taking letters from everyone revealing where they are and such until we sent it to you. We are taking different ways back to Hogwarts; flying by broomstick across countries is too far and too dangerous. So several of us will be driving, flying by aeroplane, train, boat etc.

Do not worry, we should be with you in the next week, we are changing direction of journeys by Harry's advice - something he said Moody had said to him when they first went to visit the Order of the Phoenix.

Here are the letters.

We all hope you haven't been too worried.

Hermione.

***

I look at the letter in amazement at such a plan. Having someone like Hermione is unbelievable luck. I used to be in love with her. I remember I went mad at her for not noticing when really I should have said something myself. I love her now as my friend and adoptive sister. Neville stands over me while I read the letter. I give it to him and proceeded to read the other letters of people's whereabouts.

Dear all

We are safe and travelling by car to France and then on the Ferry to Dover, then Knight Bus up to Hogsmeade - then to Hogwarts. We should be there about three days after this has been sent.

Lavender and Parvati.

Everyone

We are flying by plane from Italy to Heathrow. The problem is getting a flight - they are all booked up. But we are fine and living off airport food. Should be back in two/ three days.

Hermione and Seamus

Hello

Driving from Italy, to Germany to France and then over to the UK. Bit of a trek because we want to get Voldemort off the scent. We have met up with Professor Flitwick's nephew and he is driving us through all that. Back soon.

Harry and Dean.

***

I read the letters in disbelief. I had been waiting for an owl to tell us that they were dead or seriously injured or walking round a foreign country with their memories modified, but no, they are all all right. Delayed but fine. I can't stop smiling. Some of them would be with us as soon as tomorrow night!

***

After an hour of celebrating their safety with Neville, (McGonagall had gone to bed) we drink the remainder of the bottle of vodka that we had shared on the night we got it together. Lack of food for several hours takes its toll and I stumble onto Neville's bed. - He doesn't push me off. We just lie there all night looking into each other's eyes and smiling and stroking each other's bodies. Content all is right with the world, we can touch conscience free.

Neville's POV

I woke up in the morning with Ron in my arms. He was asleep and smiling. It must be such a relief knowing that his best friends were safe. I was damn well relieved as well. They are all such good friends of mine, and I would hate it if anything bad happened to them.

That was one of the worst weeks of my life. I don't think I could ever go through that again.

Now I know they are safe, I wonder if it's the right time to discuss with Ron what we did. All I know is that I feel this inexplicable love for him and I know that he feels it too. But why?

It's only this year I've ever thought about being gay. I was at this family party when a friend of my cousin Louis just kissed me out of the blue. I felt nothing then, but I carried on. I haven't seen or heard from him since. - I don't care anyway - he wasn't really that fit, and more of a Malfoy anyway because his mum from the Longbottom side married a Malfoy.

How did this happen? I know that I worry about this newfound sexuality, whether I am gay or not. Should I tell people? Will Ron and I carry on having sex? Will we tell people that we are? How will everyone respond and if we break up, will we still be friends and will girls want to go out with me.

But how come I am only truly ecstatic when I am touching him?

Love can't possibly come so suddenly and we can't possibly be veela... I could have a point there.

I'm sending an owl to Gran.

***

*End of Neville's POV*

Neville approached Ron tentatively. He didn't know if it was the right time to ask, but he had to before the Gryffindors started to arrive - because then everything would be forgotten.

"Ron."

"Uh huh."

"Can we talk, I think we need to."

"Ok."

"Do you love me?"

Ron paused stiffly. He didn't know how to answer the question. He wondered if any answer he gave, Neville would give the opposite and they would both be hurt.

"I think I do."

"Oh thank goodness, 'cos I do too."

"Bloody hell mate! So what do we do?"

"What can we do?"

"I don't know."

"I have no idea how this happened, Ron."

"Me too."

"I do have an idea. It sounds really dumb, but do you think that one or both of us are veela and we've just bonded?"

"I sincerely hope not mate, once they bond, they have to be together for life."

"Thank you."

"Noooo I don't mean it that way Neville. I mean that we've only just started doing things, I don't want to be tied down or anything."

"That's fine."

"You're mad now aren't you?"

"I never said I was."

"I really really really like you Neville, I'm not going to fuck around with you."

"I know, we'll just have to work out something along the way about what we are going to do."

"But what? How are we going to keep this quiet? How will we stay together?"

"I have no idea...."

Ron and Neville then sat down on the bed, hugging and touching, trying not to discuss the future in too much detail. And knowing that when the others got back, they would have to hide their liaisons and not be so obvious.

***