The Road You Take Don't Always Lead You Home

Harry eased the door open and stepped into the dark room. "Ron?" he called softly. "Ron, it's me."

A dark shadow on the bed moved. "Harry?" a soft voice came back.

"Yeah." Harry walked over and sat on the bed next to Ron. "You okay?"

Ron chuckled darkly. "Bit of a stupid question, mate."

Harry sighed. "Want to talk about it?"

Ron looked down at his hands. "It's just...I don't know if I can take this," he said finally. "Harry, she left us. She walked out on us right when we needed her the most. For...for a whole year, I waited and wished for her to come back...to come home. And she never did. So I stopped waiting...and I started trying to get over her, and I'd finally managed it. And now she just comes waltzing back into our lives..."

"I don't think she's exactly waltzing back," Harry said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I mean...before, she was a pretty important cornerstone of our lives. When she left...everything fell down. Some things got broken, some things crumbled to dust and couldn't be fixed. And even if it had all been intact, we couldn't have built them up the same way. You can't just save room for a cornerstone when you're building a house."
"So we rebuilt our lives, but we built it a new way," Ron said, looking up again. "And we had to find a different cornerstone. Is that it?"

Harry shook his head. "We had to build them so that they could be supported by the cornerstones we had left. Each other."

Ron gave him a shaky half-grin. "Pretty good cornerstones, if you ask me."

Harry half-grinned back. "Yeah. But the point is, Ron...we built up our lives fully expecting that she wouldn't come back. I'm sure there's a spot for her, just..."

"Not the cornerstone," Ron completed.

"Exactly."

Ron leaned his head on Harry's shoulder. "I just...I don't know what to do anymore," he whispered. "I feel like I ought to be happy, but all I feel is scared."

"Scared?" Harry looked at his friend in mild surprise. "Of what?"

"That she won't be the same anymore," Ron answered. "Or that she will be the same and that she'll expect us to be the same. And--" He looked away, a muscle in his jaw working. "And her kids."

"What about them?"

"Did Draco say how old they are?"

Taken aback by the question, Harry nodded. "The youngest is two and a half, the middle one is five, and the oldest is eight."

"Oh." Ron exhaled heavily. "That's good. I was scared that..."

"What?" Harry prompted.

Ron looked down at his hands. "That the oldest one was mine," he said softly.

Realisation dawned on Harry. "Oh," he said quietly. "You guys..."

Ron nodded. "Just once. I..." H swallowed. "Remember, about a week before...well, before...when you had to go get Remus out of whatever danger he'd wound up in?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "You were at the Burrow overnight, though, weren't you...for Charlie's memorial service? You only got home an hour before I did."

"Who told you that?" Ron asked, taken aback.

"Hermione, why?"

Ron shook his head. "Harry...I got home at ten o'clock the night before. I don't know why Hermione told you I hadn't been...unless she was scared."

"What was she scared of?"

Ron leaned his head against Harry's shoulder again, obviously needing comfort but unsure how to ask for it. "I...when I came in, she told me you were out trying to save Remus. She had a fire going...I sat down on the floor next to her. I told her how much I loved her, she snuggled up against me, I kissed her...one thing led to another and...well...we kind of had sex, right there on the floor, in front of the fire. I meant to tell you about it, but that week was so hectic..."

"Oh, Ron." Harry put an arm around Ron's shoulders. "It isn't your fault she left. I know that's what you're thinking, it's all over your face. And..." He hesitated, then looked away. "I had the same worries."

Ron looked up. "What?"

Harry swallowed hard. "Before I found out about Remus...after you'd left...she came downstairs and..." He swallowed again. "Ron, this is kind of hard to explain."

"Just do your best."

"I'll try." Harry took a deep breath. "She...kind of...wasn't wearing anything."

Ron's eyebrows went up. "What?"

"I don't know...I think she was getting desperate. I'm sure she was looking for you, but...well, she kind of threw herself on me. I know this is going to sound strange, but...she pulled my pants off." Harry half-glanced at Ron. "My head and my heart were telling me to push her off, but everything from here down was kind of reacting." He levelled a hand at his waistline.

Ron laughed in spite of himself. "Cor, that's rich."

Harry smiled feebly. "Well, it wasn't exactly funny at the time. When I got the news about Remus it kind of drove the incident out of my mind...and then when I got back, I was afraid to say anything because I thought you'd get mad at me. After...well, after...I was--" He swallowed and admitted, "I was afraid you'd leave too. I couldn't face losing both of you."

"I'd never have been mad at you, mate." Ron was silent for a moment. Finally he said, "It hurt so much when she just left like that...I really thought she loved me, especially after that night."

Harry shook his head. "I never deluded myself. I knew she didn't love me--not like that, anyway. I was so sure she loved you, though. I still can't fathom why she just left."

"We could always ask tomorrow," Ron said without conviction.

But Harry shook his head again. "No...why spoil Christmas for everyone else?"

"Why did Draco have to tell us she was back?" Ron sighed.

"Would you have wanted to be surprised tomorrow?" Harry asked. "He wasn't trying to be malicious...just to brace us."

Ron sighed heavily. "It's just...it all seemed so much easier when we thought she wasn't coming back."

"Believe me, mate. I understand."

"Help me, Harry," Ron whispered, burying his face in Harry's shoulder. "I can't seem to cry."

"You're asking the wrong person, Ron," Harry said softly. "I forgot how a long time ago."