How To Mend a Broken Soul

Day Five: Can it really get fluffier?

A soft sigh first. Then another one, grumpier. The discreet rushing sound of sheets and the feel of a body stretching up just against his. Smooth bit of skin brushing for the tiniest second against his calf, then something heavier, clothed, pressing against his leg. It was way too warm, but he didn't care. He did care, though, when a fist came colliding with his nose.

"Hey!!" Ron yelled, opening his eyes and putting a hand in front of his face, defensively.

"Shit! Sorry..."

Ron turned on his side and glared at a very dishevelled Harry, nursing his poor nose. "What was that for?" he asked grumpily, pouting.

Harry chuckled: "'was just stretching. Sorry..."

Ron wanted to pout some more, but it was very hard to pull out when Harry was smiling at him so sweetly. And then he remembered a little something and his face broke into a grin no matter how hard he tried to remain serious. Harry smiled back, then sat up and stretched. Back arched, arms and hands uncurling, head thrown back and nose wrinkling, Ron took it all in and stored it for future contemplation. Harry's arms fell like stone at his sides, and he looked at Ron, expectant.

"What's that grin for?"

Ron's eyes looked hesitant for a second or two, fluttering back and forth between random points, then he said, a little shyly: "Good-morning...boyfriend..."

Harry's sugar-sweet laugh made Ron squirm with pleasure. Harry leaned down, his face hovering above Ron's one, his lips curling at the corners. "Good-morning boyfriend," he replied, before kissing Ron straight on the lips. Harry did feel very bold that morning.

The kiss was soft and unhurried, a real good-morning kiss. Harry's mouth slowly left Ron's one, their lips grazing each other for a few more seconds before Harry really got away and lied back on his side, gazing into Ron's eyes. They looked at each other for a while, both of their smiles constantly hovering on nervous grins, before Harry made a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a scream and buried his head in his side of the pillow, his left cheek colouring slightly--the right one was probably doing the same, but Ron couldn't see it.

Harry's eye peeked out from the blue mountains of the pillow, blinked twice and then Harry mumbled: "Gnit chpo' be swee?"

Ron bit back a chuckle: "What?"

Harry reluctantly lifted his mouth from the pillow and said to it: "Is it supposed to feel so weird?"

Ron shrugged: "I don't know." Then he grinned: "It's a good weird though," he said, then, since he couldn't see Harry's face - that was a privilege obviously reserved to his pillow that morning - he added, a worried edge to his voice: "...right?"

Harry chuckled and turned his head back to Ron, smiling: "Yeah, it's a good weird."

Ron let out a little sigh of relief and they were back to stupidly smiling at each other. Why does it feel awkward now, when it didn't feel awkward all the times before? Ron wondered. Is it how it is when you're dating someone? You just start giggling like fools and gazing into each other's eyes for hours? Hey, I don't wanna stop talking about Quidditch!!

Harry must have thought along the same lines, because he suddenly asked: "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Ron answered with a dreamful sigh--damnit!

Harry giggled, for no reason that Ron could fathom. Then he calmed down and asked: "D'you think they'll notice?!"

"Notice what?"

"That...that we're...uh...y'know, together..."

Ron laughed, at which Harry looked definitely cross. "Why d'you think they'd notice?"

Harry blushed: "I don't know..."

"It's not like it'd be written on our foreheads!"

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"I really don't see why--"

"Ron!!" Harry suddenly yelled, sitting up and waving his arms in exasperation. He was still blushing that attractive shade of pink.

"What?" Ron asked him with an innocent smile, rolling on his back.

"I...you...I..." Harry stammered, then sighed: "Oh, just shut up," and he leaned down and kissed Ron again, much more hungrily than the first time.

Ron didn't seem to be complaining.

Harry's right hand was fidgeting with creases of the pillow, and the left one was resting on Ron's chest, its heel brushing rather tauntingly against Ron's cloth-covered nipple. Harry didn't feel it, but Ron did... He half opened his mouth to sigh and suddenly found it filled with Harry's tongue, both granular and smooth, rubbing more than eagerly against his own.

Harry sat down on his crossed feet and his chest was now pressing on Ron's arm. Is kissing always that good, or is Ron a good kisser?! ...I wonder if it'd have been that good if I had gotten to kiss Cho...There was a silence in his brain, filled by sloppy noises and little sighs, then: Probably not.

At last, Harry stopped kissing his best friend, gulping down some much needed air. He looked down at Ron's face and suddenly smirked.

"What?" Ron asked, immediately worried. Do I have something on my nose again?!

"I think you owe me an apology, Ronald Weasley."

Ron made a face: "And what for, exactly?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Harry's smirk turned triumphant: "Because they are going to notice something's different."

Ron rolled his eyes: "And how?"

"Look in a mirror, doofus."

Ron almost jumped from the bed, looking afraid again. I have something on my nose, I knew it!! ...wait a second, what would that have to do with anything?!

Harry laughed as Ron disappeared through the door, to the bathroom, and came back after two full minutes, looking annoyed. "I don't see anything," he muttered, standing on the side of the bed and looking at Harry accusingly.

Harry smiled innocently. "Your lips," he said, before kneeling up and gently sucking on Ron's bottom lip. "They're all swollen," he added, smiling more. Ron was about to answer something, but Harry wrapped his arms around Ron's waist and raised his chin up, offering his lips.

"You're only going to make it worse," Ron whispered against them, smiling. Harry chuckled and closed his eyes, pressing himself from knees up against Ron's body, his hands messing with Ron's pyjama shirt, finally slipping underneath to spread on Ron's back. Ron gazed down at Harry's face (...he had never noticed how thin his eyelashes were...), feeling all weird - the good kind of weird - because Harry was so...so...damn it, he was just waiting for Ron to kiss him, like...like he wasn't fearing that Ron might just trace lines down his face with magic ink or walk out of the room and not warn him, no, he was waiting there with closed eyes and dammit why aren't you kissing him you idiot?!?

Just as Harry half-opened his eyes to see what was delaying the kiss, Ron closed the tiny gap between them; Harry closed his eyes shut with a contended smile. Ron wrapped his own arms around Harry's waist, pressing his hands into his lower back. Both boys shuddered at the close contact; their thin pyjamas really felt like gossamer all of a sudden, and their boxers weren't much better - well, not that it felt bad, really. More like freakin' good, Ron thought, discreetly trying to rub himself against Harry.

Harry chuckled into the kiss and smirked at Ron: "You want them to definitely see that something's different?" he laughed.

Ron's ears turned scarlet and he stepped away from Harry, looking down.

You shouldn't do that...Harry thought briefly, but he couldn't help himself: he reached out and pressed Ron back to his body, trying as best he could to stroke his middle against Ron's. One eyebrow raised daringly as his emerald eyes looked up into Ron's wide blue ones, Harry smiled slightly when Ron nervously bit on his bottom lip, his hips moving ever so slightly in return. They were both flushed in a matter of seconds, and when their bodies separated they had nervous smiles on their faces.

Luckfully, nothing had had time to go up apart from the corners of their mouths, so they just had to wait until their cheeks had taken a less bright colour before they went down to breakfast--after a search for Harry's glasses that lasted five minutes and finally found them squashed between the mattress and the headboard.

In the end, the only thing that Molly found curious that morning at the breakfast table was why exactly both boys kept biting back giggles every five seconds for no apparent reason.

*~*~*

Harry was sitting in the grass, arms resting against his bent knees, looking at nothing in particular. Ron was grounded, which simply meant that he had, along with Fred and George, to clean up the mess they had caused. They had broken into a food fight during lunch, Harry couldn't even remember why, only that it had to be the twins that started it, not Ron. Although, to be honest, the latter had taken a very active part in it, despite Molly's shouts for calm. Harry suspected that Ron had shown off a little bit, just because he was watching - it kept making him smile.

Harry hadn't participated, of course - the "of course" proudly declared by Molly, once the commotion had died down. Not because the reason she thought, though; merely because watching Ron scream and laugh and throw whole handfuls of mashed potatoes at his brothers and sister - Ginny hadn't been able to resist the temptation once peas sprinkled her hair - was having such an effect on Harry he wasn't sure if he could even stand up, and if he could, he'd probably end up kissing Ron right in front of everybody else.

At the end of the meal, when Molly had ushered him and Ginny outside - "Favouritism!!!" had bellowed Fred - Harry had stood up and murmured all of that into Ron's ear. Ron had blushed scarlet to the root of his hair, and nobody had understood why.

Besides, Harry was pretty glad to have a few minutes to himself. He could at last think about his newfound relationship without being distracted by Ron's eyes, or Ron's smile, or Ron's...or anything belonging to Ron, actually.

Harry's hand softly fell at his side and his fingers worried blades of grass. If he had to be honest, he was a little surprised with how fast things had gone. A few days before, Ron had still been nothing more than Harry's best friend, a friend which Harry now realized he may have taken for granted and not appreciated nearly as much as Ron deserved to be, and then Ron had kissed him, and he had kissed Ron, and all of a sudden he had all these...feelings, these urges, that he had never even really thought of before, not even when he was playing his little Cho-scenarios inside his head. Harry smiled at how naïve he was back then; he had never even thought of...of touching her, apart from holding hands and maybe checking if her hair was a soft as it looked. He had thought of kissing her, of course, he was a teenager after all, but it had been so...not graphic. Harry had never snogged his pillow, or pictured Cho with minimum clothes on. Maybe it was because as soon as he had had a crush on her she had been snatched away from him by--

Harry's breath caught up in his throat, just like all the other times Cedric's name had popped into his thoughts. It always brought up such cnflicting feelings: hatred because Harry wanted to go to that ball with Cho, and Cedric had gone and stayed with her afterwards; envy because he had spent so much time with her and Harry didn't even know if she had a sister, or a pet; guilt because it was all Harry's fault if Cedric had died; and grief because the memory of Cedric's ghost just wouldn't go away, would never go away, as well as how his face had looked when he was dead, how wide and clear his eyes had been...And over it all, there was an even deeper feeling, something Harry had never managed to decipher, a mix between friendship and something else, something more maybe, or maybe it was just the sum of all the others, the knowledge that that boy would never breathe again and it was all because Harry hadn't died when he was a baby.

Harry closed his eyes, ignoring the few tears that had silently spilled on his cheeks, and tried to compose himself again. He had been thinking happy thoughts about Ron, and now he was back to all those grey and tasteless days in Privet Drive, and it wasn't fair. Harry took a deep breath and opened his eyes back, concentrating on Ron.

He didn't even realize he was smiling until his mouth started to ache. He chuckled to himself and brought his thought stream back to their relationship, carefully avoiding thinking of anything unrelated to them.

So now he was dating Ron. His best friend. They were a couple. Together. No matter how Harry put it, it always sounded weird inside his head. Evident and wonderful, but still weird.

He understood why Ron had asked if they were a couple. After all, they had kissed a good deal, so they were dating, right? And he wanted things to be that way. He loved that funny little fluttering feeling in his stomach every time he thought that Ron was his boyfriend, which was so much better than his best friend because he could still laugh with him but on top of that he could kiss him, and Ron would kiss him back, and touch him, and caress him, and--Harry stopped his brain there, getting flustered.

But the thing which was surprising him a little was that...well, Ron wasn't exactly a girl, was he? And Harry didn't care at all, actually he was starting to feel like the exact opposite, but it was still...If you had asked him before, he would have never considered being...being gay. And not because he had been brought up with the lullaby of Uncle Vernon calling the gay people they showed on television freaks and errors of Nature, but because...well, there had been Cho, hadn't it?

Harry frowned in concentration. Wait a second...so, maybe...maybe since I did like Cho, and then I do like Ron--god, so much! Maybe that means I wouldn't...wouldn't want to do all the...the stuff we do... --Harry's middle did a painful somersault as undaunted images filled his inner eyes--with another guy, right? ...oh wait, or maybe that means that Cho was the exception... Harry chewed on his bottom lip and started thinking about the other guys he knew at school, trying to see if he was finding them cute or something. He liked them, very much, but no, he wasn't finding in them any of the things that made him want to kiss Ron silly. Then Draco's sneering face popped up in front of his eyes and Harry blushed crimson, quickly discarding the thought. Well, maybe that's another exception, that's all. I don't even like him, he thought determinedly. Then he scrunched up his face, shaking his head and smiling. He could only think of Ron's face if he ever let it slip that he found Draco quite sexy. That really was a stupid thing to start thinking about, that was.

Harry sighed contentedly and breathed in the fresh air of the fields; he wished that somebody had cut down some grass. There was nothing he liked more than the smell of freshly cut grass in summer, even though almost every time he had smelt it, he had been drenched in sweat and hurting all over after pushing the huge lawnmower around Aunt Petunia's garden.

He couldn't believe a summer that had started so bad could end so well. Of course, the nightmares were still there, and he still had that heavy weight in his stomach every time he thought about what might happen outside the Burrow, what Voldemort might be up to and would they be allowed to go back to school in a week? But now he had someone he could share his fears with, even though he kept being afraid that Ron would be bothered by it. Because he knew that if Ron were still nothing more than his best friend, Harry wouldn't talk to him about all of that, he'd be very careful not to, actually. Not because he thought Ron couldn't handle it, or that he would laugh at him, but...Harry sighed. To be honest, he didn't know why he wouldn't have talked to Ron if he wasn't so much more than his best friend now. Yeah, but you still went to talk to him that first night, and you didn't know he was going to...Harry's thoughts came to a stand-still and rewound a little. You didn't know, did you? You didn't...like...expect it or something?

It felt weird to be questioned by his subconscious, to say the least--especially since said subconscious should precisely be the one to answer those stupid questions. Of course I didn't know! How could I have known that Ron would kiss me?!

Yeah, but did you...like...want him to?

What?!

You heard me, Potter.

Why does my subconscious sound like Malfoy?? ...I don't know if I wanted him to kiss me! That's not something I'd ever thought about!! He thought irritably, wondering if he'd soon start talking aloud to himself.

But you wanted him to comfort you.

...a bit, maybe.

A lot.

A lot, okay. Harry pouted. What does that matter anyway?

I think it matters a lot, actually.

Harry frowned, feeling distinctively like he had drifted away from the original question.

That's because the first question wasn't interesting, boy.

Great, now I sound like Moody or something.

So, his subconscious started again, like it hadn't been interrupted at all, you wanted Ron to kiss you, didn't you? Weird how it sounded like a taunt. Harry expected it to start singing 'Ron and Harry, sitting in a tree...' any second now.

I don't think I did... Harry thought carefully, frowning in concentration. Had he? Had he come to Ron hoping he'd cuddle him and kiss him just like he had? What exactly did he expect, waking Ron up in the middle of the night to tell him he had nightmares?

Actually, I think I expected to make a fool of myself, why?

Just curious, answered his subconscious, shrugging. The thought of his subconscious shrugging was even weirder than having it talking at all.

Harry shook his head like it'd make his silent thoughts vanish, and lied down on his back, staring at the almost non existing clouds. In the end, it didn't really matter, what he had expected, did it? What mattered was that he had gotten so much more than a few words of comfort or an awkward hug. Harry grinned stupidly again, and unconsciously started humming a tune. Before he knew it, Harry was actually singing loudly to the sky.

"I...guess...you'll...say...what can make me feel this way...my boy..." Harry chuckled, then with a falsetto voice made the background voice "My boyyy..." He laughed, but continued singing, grinning to himself; "talking 'bout my bo-o-oy......my boy!......I've got sooo much honey...the bees envy me...I've got a sweeter song...than the birds in the trees...Iii...guess

...you'll...say...what can make me feel this way...my Ron..."

"Whoa, somebody wrote a song about me?!"

Harry almost chocked on air and went beetroot red from the end of his ears to the tip of his nose, sitting straight up and turning his head fearfully. Ron was standing behind him, grinning, hands in his pockets.

"Oh," Harry said, trying to look casual, "You've finished cleaning, have you?"

To his relief, Ron didn't seem to see through his enormous change of subject, and answered, yawning a bit: "Yup. Didn't think it would be that long, but I suspect mom took the opportunity of us actually cleaning something to make us do the whole kitchen!"

Harry laughed, but Ron frowned: "As if she couldn't do it with a wave of her wand anyway...Harry, stop laughing! That was mean! And Ginny didn't have to do anything!" Ron almost added that Harry hadn't helped either, before remembering that Harry actually hadn't thrown anything at anybody, which in turn brought back what Harry had whispered to him, and before you could say "hi" Ron was blushing about it again. He shook his head slightly and focused on accusing his mom: "Just because she's a girl...It's always been like that, she never gets punished."

"Oh, poor baby," Harry cooed, stifling a laugh. "Well, y'know Ron, you did throw mashed potatoes, and she only threw peas. Peas are less dirty than mashed stuff." He laughed at his logic, but Ron refrained from smiling and sat down.

"It's not funny, y'know. Plus, it's tiring! ...you know, I think I understand now why Hermione made such a big deal about House Elves getting paid...Maybe it's because she actually had to clean some stuff at her house before."

Harry nodded, scooting closer to Ron so that their legs were touching. "She probably has, since her parents aren't magic folks and all. And yes, welcome to my world Ron, cleaning is actually work!" he added humorously.

Ron stuck his tongue out at him and his eyes went wide when he saw Harry suddenly looking at him with greedy eyes.

"Don't tempt me," Harry whispered huskily. Ron gulped.

The boys looked at each other for a few seconds, flustered, then Harry feebly smiled and dived back into the cleaning subject: "So, you understand Hermione now? Please, don't tell her. Next thing you know she'll start working on us again with her SPEW, or whatever that was...didn't she change the name at some point in the year?"

Ron rolled his eyes: "Seriously Harry, I don't know. Didn't exactly keep track of her delirium, did I?"

"Ron, you're just mean." But Harry just didn't know how to sound reproachful; that was something Hermione had mastered a long time ago, though, and he figured it might have to do with the both of them being so...well, normal, really. As much as he loved Hermione, he really couldn't see himself ever becoming the studious boy she clearly wished he'd turn into. Anyway, she loves us too, so she can't really get mad at us... he thought with a little smile.

"Mean?!" Ron had exclaimed during Harry's little thinking. "I'm not mean. Just realistic. ...you can talk, you weren't with her on that either," he added, pouting slightly.

Harry smiled and fleetingly wondered if kissing Ron right now would be much of a sensible idea, no matter how tempting it looked.

"Harry..." Ron suddenly said, looking panicked. "It's a sunny day, there's like three days of school left, and we're talking about the liberation of House Elves. We have got to do something else!"

"Yeah, you're right."

Ron smirked, and Harry suddenly felt uncomfortable. "We could talk about that song you were singing, for instance..." he sneakily said.

"I wasn't singing," Harry mumbled very unconvincingly.

"Oh, so that thing we heard all the way to the kitchen was...?"

Harry became livid: "Yo...you hea-heard me--"

"Not in the kitchen, no, don't worry," Ron said with an angelic smile. "So, what is that song?" he asked immediately, not wanting to let Harry another chance at changing the subject.

Harry coughed, turning from white to pink in a second. "That's...that's just a song Aunt Petunia keeps listening to," he admitted with a sigh; "...and she starts yelling if anybody dares speaking on top of it, even Dudley, and that's saying a lot!"

Ron grinned, seemed to hesitate, then asked: "And...uh...is there...there's not really my name in it, is there?" The curves of his ears were reddening already, and Harry had barely begun laughing when suddenly all of Ron's face was turning scarlet.

Harry was laughing his ass off; he lay back down on the grass, gripping his stomach, but his eyes never left Ron's face. "R...Ron...I...I think some mas-mashed p-potatoe has...gone up through y-your nose and...and now your brain is s-suffocating!!" he gasped, laughing more.

To be honest, he knew he was being very unfair, especially since Ron could have teased him about his singing way more than he had. But he was feeling so happy, and...well, Ron was very fun to annoy.

And sexy, too, as Harry soon discovered. Ron was blushing deeper than he ever had, both from embarrassment and anger, but then a wicked smile slowly stretched his lips, and suddenly he found himself pinning Harry to the ground, towering over him with a victorious smile. "You can talk, 'bluebird'," he smirked.

He hadn't expected Harry to be so strong, and was rather startled as to how exactly he had came to be straddled by Harry's small frame when a mere second before he had been firmly sitting on his thighs.

"And what about you, Mister Let's-get-a-tent-in-our-pants-before-going-down-for-breakfast?" Harry replied in one breath, smirking. For half a second he had been panicked, unable to think of anything to say, but the memory of Ron rubbing against him had popped out of his thoughts in all its glory.

Ron blushed scarlet and roughly pushed Harry off him, straddling him again and firmly keeping hold of Harry's arms, not wanting to be thrown off again. He wanted to snap something back at him, something to win the jest and forget his embarrassment, but what came out of his mouth was very much different.

"I want to kiss you so bad right now..."

Needless to say, it changed the mood. Harry's laugh died in his throat as his heart's beating became erratic. "I'm not sure it'd be--"

"--very clever?" Ron interrupted, smiling softly.

Harry nodded, but the way he kept licking his lips betrayed his feeble protest even more than his blush did.

"I want you to kiss me," he dutifully confirmed two seconds after. He didn't even feel embarrassed by it, which was definitely a first.

"I thought you would," Ron said cockily. If we had rolled around in the grass two months ago, would it have led up to that?! What unsettled Ron, rather pleasantly, was the sudden conviction that it would have--at least, he would have thought about ending it that way. And then I'd have probably freaked out and ran away screaming...

There was something about Harry without glasses; there was something about Harry flying; and Ron was just discovering that there was definitely something about Harry lying down in the grass. His eyes seemed even greener, so vivid that the summer grass seemed pale in comparison. And Ron realized he would like nothing more than taking away the strands of grass sprinkling Harry's hair, one by one--strange, when doing that on his own hair made his skin crawl.

Ron raised his head and surveyed their surroundings. He could see the up windows of the Burrow a short distance away, far enough so that if somebody stood at the window, they wouldn't be able to know exactly what Ron and Harry were doing. The kitchen and the first floor were hidden by one of the numerous grassy mounds surrounding the house. He strained his ears, but he couldn't hear any human sound. The twins had many dubious qualities, but sneaking upon people wasn't really one of them--they usually liked their entrances to be heard from as far as it could be.

When he looked back down at Harry, those green eyes were staring at him so intently that Ron almost yelped with surprise. He suddenly had the suspicion that if he didn't kiss Harry in the next seconds the smaller boy would actually very well be capable of biting his head off...or maybe just suck on his neck...That might be good, too... He smiled to himself and bent down, casting a last look to the top of the mound Harry was lying on, expecting to see his mother standing there open-mouthed...quite a turn-off, unfortunately, but he managed to shush the image away.

Harry was tapping his foot inwardly. Stop going in slow motion and just kiss me, for Christ's sake!! He wanted to kiss Ron so bad he was actually hurting inside, his body pleading with him to reach the few remaining inches between them. "Ron," he heard himself saying in an exasperated moan, and he wished Ron didn't have his arms pinned down over his head, preventing Harry from just yanking the red-head down to him.

At long last, Ron's lips touched Harry's, and Harry closed his eyes with a blissful sigh, melting under the now familiar velvet touch. Ron had intended to only peck Harry on the lips, but before either of them knew it Ron had let Harry's arms lose and they were gently curling up around Ron's neck and head, and Ron was taking quick laps at Harry's bottom lip, and their bodies fitted so well against each other in the hot summer grass and this...this was something they knew they were lucky to have.

When Ron finally rolled away from Harry, lying in the grass at his side, neither of them could have told how long they had been kissing. They were just glad nobody had walked in - out, rather - on them. They looked at the immensity of the sky in silence, both fighting hard the urge to kiss again, knowing they shouldn't press their luck.

"So. ...what do we do now?" Harry finally asked, turning his head to Ron.

"I don't know..."

"I was going to say 'Let's go have a dive in the lake', but something tells me it'd be wiser to do something that won't lead to more kissing...or just...or just plain 'more'," Harry softly admitted, nibbling on the right corner of his bottom lip.

The sexual tension that they had put so much effort into eliminating came back with a vengeance, pressing down on them wickedly. Harry closed his eyes and smiled, then turned his head back to the sky, shaking it: "I can't believe I said that..."

"I can't believe you said it either. Now I'll have you all dripping wet and wearing nothing but a flimsy swimsuit in my head all afternoon!" Ron moaned, putting an arm across his eyes.

"Well," Harry said with a cocky smile, standing up: "Actually, I really don't see what's wrong about that..."

*~*~*

Harry had been the last one to take a shower, so that when he finally came into Ron's room, his friend was already lying on his bed, staring absently at the ceiling with a smile on his lips. The mere idea of what he was going to do put the same smile on Harry's face. No need for indecision or fear anymore, coz they were boyfriends...So he could do that - he flopped down on the bed, stomach first, next to Ron and kissed him full on the lips with no warning whatsoever - anytime he wanted. Ron's left arm struggled to get free of Harry's weight and slipped around Harry's waist, keeping him close as Harry's tongue sought entrance to his mouth.

Harry was sure, positively sure, that he would never ever get bored of kissing his best friend. Especially when that mere thing could make Ron wriggle and sigh with pleasure, like he was doing just then. Some things were just too sweet to get tired off: chocolate, pumpkin juice, Quidditch, all of Mrs Weasley's food, and now, Mrs Weasley's son's lips. Okay, when you put it that way it suddenly sounds kinda squeaky...

All of a sudden Ron rolled them around and Harry yelped, almost falling off the bed, but Ron hugged him closer, preventing his fall. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and went back to kissing Ron, maybe wrapping his arms around Ron's neck a bit tighter than normal. His back was hanging off the side of the bed, and his legs were entwined with Ron's so he knew that if ever Ron let him drop, he'd end up falling on his head, not on his side. But since Harry loved being hugged, and since hugging Harry was also on Ron's Top Ten list, neither of them made the slightest attempt to put Harry back on the bed, concentrating rather on making sure that he was too occupied to think about falling.

Soon their lips lingered against each other longer, their kisses became slower, more languorous, and their eyes opened and dived into the other's pools of flickering light.

"Hey," Harry whispered at last, once he had gained back control over his own tongue, smiling against Ron's lips.

"Hey," Ron whispered back. Just as they had done that same morning, they found themselves gazing at each other wordlessly, slightly goofy smiles slowly making their way on their faces. After a few lazy seconds Harry stretched in Ron's arms and let out a little yawn that got Ron biting on his lip to prevent the disgusting "You're so cute!" that was pressing against his closed mouth.

Harry reached down, turning slightly to try and see the floor - which very nearly made him fall on said floor, hadn't it been for Ron's tight grasp - and fumbled blindly around. His smile turned triumphant and he gently but firmly pushed Ron away so he could at last lie on the bed properly, rolling on his back and hoisting his Lord Of The Rings book on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Ron immediately asked, frowning.

Harry looked at him with a cheeky smile: "I thought that would be rather obvious..." Then he added, speaking slowly as to a child: "Preparing to read...?"

Ron scowled: "Reading?! ...You want to read," Ron said as slowly, scrutinizing Harry's face, which - damn it! - looked perfectly innocent.

"Well...yeah. Why?"

Ron's mouth fell open, then he shut it back closed and almost jumped on Harry, ready to snog him to death if necessary.

Which was exactly what he did.

Harry didn't seem to mind his assaults much, mind you, but he still looked at Ron with an incredulous look, once his friend had stopped trying to swallow Harry's tongue.

"And what was that, pray you?" Harry asked, trying not to grin.

"Just showing my point, which is: you can snog me until you can't breathe...and you want to read?!"

Harry had the decency to look embarrassed: "Well..." he mumbled, smiling; "I did bring the book here hoping I'd get to read it, y'know...We can always snog later! I mean, yesterday I did snog you to death and I didn't get to read more than three lines, and...and...even then I kept being interrupted with thoughts of you being under the show...er...so...." Harry faltered, freezing. I want to be dead. I want to be dead. Voldemort, now's the right time, c'mon!!

Ron's face slowly broke into the widest grin, like Christmas had come four months early. "You had...thoughts of...you had thoughts of me...under what?!" he stammered--talking was made difficult by his unfading grin.

Why isn't that stupid Snake-Head here when you need him?! "I didn't say anything," Harry mumbled, staring at the cover of his book as if it could swallow him whole and spare him the humiliation.

"You were thinking of me under the shower?" Ron repeated, louder.

Harry carefully laid his hands on the glossy cover, examining his nails in what he wanted to be an off-hand way. "No," he said quietly. "I was...just...giving an example of what I might have been thinking about...instead...instead of reading about cloaks," he spluttered, closing his eyes at the sheer stupidity of his argument.

Ron just stared, obviously close to laugh his ass off.

"Stop smiling at me like that!" Harry finally snapped, looking over at Ron. "There's no reason to smile, it's not funny!"

"Oh, I agree," Ron suddenly said, his voice softer. "It's not funny, it's...hot," he finished, and Harry wondered how exactly Ron's eyes had turned from laughing at him to eating him alive in less than a second.

Harry smiled softly: "Yeah, in my head it was rather hot, too..." To his delight, the familiar blush started creeping on Ron's cheeks.

"And...how exactly did your elf-book make you think of me like...like that?" Ron shyly asked, suddenly very much interested with the book.

Harry giggled and blushed: "Well..." he started, biting his bottom lip. "There was...they were talking about cloaks, and...I started thinking about my invisibility cloak and...y'know, well...anybody would have thought that, really!...I just...thought that maybe...one day I could...I could put it on and....watch you shower."

Ron's mouth fell open. "I think I'll never shower the same way now," he said flatly, looking stunned.

Harry chuckled, but Ron actually looked horrified: "But Harry, that's awful! Now I'll always be wondering if maybe you're there and...and...well, y'know..." he muttered, blushing scarlet. There were certain things that he liked doing under the shower and he would rather keep them private.

But Harry looked at him wistfully: "Don't worry. If I'm there, you'd probably soon hear panting noises coming from the wall, so...you'll know." He shot a very significant look at Ron, could have sworn he saw him shivering, then added: "Plus, y'know, now that we're together and all...I think I wouldn't exactly stay under the cloak, now, would I?"

Ron's brilliant flush spoke for itself as to whether he believed Harry or not.

Harry pecked him on the lips, and took advantage of Ron's rather petrified countenance to open the book back at the proper page and read a line or two. However, it wasn't long before Ron snatched the book away from Harry's hands and attempted to throw it to the other side of the room. Harry's Seeker reflexes were too quick for him though, and the book found itself hugged against Harry's chest, while Harry was glaring at Ron. "Don't you throw my poor book like that!" he said, feigning outrage. "You're just jealous coz I'd rather read my book than picture you naked!" he added, looking smug.

"Well, who wouldn't be jealous of that?!" Ron exclaimed, absolutely baffled.

"You know, I never said I wouldn't be thinking of you naked while I was reading..." Harry suddenly whispered. Ha, take that. Not like I could stop thinking about you even if I tried...

Ron only pouted and turned his back on Harry. "Well, all I see is that you'd rather read than kiss me," he growled, staring at the wall. "I'm deeply affronted," he added, glad Harry couldn't see the stubborn smile that was trying to stretch his lips.

"Why don't you read?" Harry countered. "You had a book the other day!"

"But the other day I didn't have you!" Ron exclaimed, turning round, half sitting up. The sheer truth and genuineness of his statement left both of them speechless, and this time it was Harry who had to try very hard not to melt into a puddle of goo.

But before Harry could say anything Ron sighed and shook his head: "Y'know...maybe I'm the stupid one in the end. Just read. I don't care," he said childishly, looking at Harry with eyes that clearly demented what he had just said. To his utter disappointment, Harry took his word for it and opened his book again.

After a few seconds though, and seeing how Ron hadn't moved at all, Harry turned to him and smiled softly: "I do intend to snog you thoroughly after I've read a few pages, y'know...I'd be crazy not to."

And why exactly didn't you think of saying that before?! Harry thought when Ron beamed, sighed and blushed coquettishly. But then, they wouldn't have fought, and Harry loved fighting with Ron. How come we never did that before? It's so much more fun than arguing about stupid goblets or trying to shush Hermione up..."We've only been dating for one day and we're already quarrelling," he still sighed, smiling happily.

Ron lied back down on his side, now in a considerable good mood, and rested his head on his bent arm. He looked a bit pensive. "Well...y'know, something tells me I'm doomed to be quarrelling anyway..."

Harry glanced at Ron with a smirk: "Thinking 'bout someone in particular?"

Ron looked at him with inquisitive, and slightly distrustful, eyes: "What d'you mean?"

"Oh c'mon, you know exactly what I mean," Harry countered, but his smile was tender. He couldn't help it; Ron was just too cute when he was on the defensive. Pure curiosity was also driving him to brush the delicate subject of their best friend once again. "Y'know, now that I think about it, you never answered my question, yesterday..." he carefully began.

"What question?"

"'bout 'Mione," Harry said, more softly. He didn't want jealousy to get to him this time. He just wanted to know more of it, he didn't really know why, but he wanted to. Probably just because before being his boyfriend (butterflies) Ron was his best friend, and they had never talked about Hermione before.

"Not your stupid crush-theory again?!" Ron said, very dramatically.

Harry frowned, his lips curling up in a smile: "I told you yesterday, come off it! You had a crush on her, and maybe you didn't see it, but I did!" he said, smiling more. He loved the way Ron was squirming next to him, looking obviously very much embarrassed.

"I don't anymore," Ron finally mumbled, so low even he didn't hear it.

"What?"

Ron suddenly sat up, and the red in his cheeks lessened to a deep pink. "I don't anymore," he repeated, louder. Then added: "On Hermione. I don't have a crush on her anymore."

Harry's eyes twinkled, and his smile almost turned into a Draco-smirk as he followed suit and sat up. "I sure hope you don't!" he exclaimed in a mock outraged tone, putting his hands on his hips.

"Then why d'you ask?" Ron mumbled, looking surly.

Harry gently wrapped his arms around Ron's waist and leaned his head on his shoulder. He shrugged: "Just because. It's just...you've never talked about it with me."

Ron squirmed, tickled by Harry's breath. He smiled: "And what exactly did you want me to say to you? Hell, I didn't figure it out myself until a few weeks ago!"

"Only then??" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Well," Ron said, blushing and smiling in an absolutely adorable way, if you asked Harry: "I had done a thorough job of convincing myself that I was just worried about Krum spying..."

Harry chuckled. "I can't believe you sometimes..."

"Hey!" Ron protested, pouting again. "Sorry, but coming to terms with that kind of thing isn't that easy! What did you want me to do? Just shrug and think "Hell, Hermione's looking awesome tonight, so in the end she is a girl, let's fall in love with her!"? That's just not fair. She's my best friend! Did people really expect me to just suddenly see her as more, just like that?!"

Harry bit on his lip, a tinge of pink on his cheeks. "Well...uh...that's what happened with us, isn't it?" he shyly asked his lap, his eyes refusing to meet Ron's one.

Even though Harry's head was down, Ron could see the huge smile stretching his lips, so similar to the one growing on his own face. "...Yeah, but...it's different," Ron hesitated. "You're different. Hermione...I always want to snap back things at her because she always get on my nerves...but I love her, I do," he added quickly, "I mean after all that's who she is, isn't it? She's always been like that, and that's part of why we like her...I guess..." Harry bit back a chuckle in front of Ron puzzled look. "...but well, anyway, you...you never make me feel beside myself, you're just...there."

Ron scrunched up his face at his awful choice for words and rushed on, before Harry could say anything: "That's not what I meant! It's just...I don't feel like I've got to prove you something, see? ...I think I've lost the thread of my argument..." he murmured, looking confused.

"Yeah, I think you have," Harry whispered, smiling.

Ron took a few seconds to get his ideas in order again, as much as they could get, and stammered: "So I think what I'm trying to say is...er...oh, I don't know. I just know it's different. And now that my brilliant demonstration is ended," he finished with a very Lockhart tone, "I think I'm going to kiss you again."

"By all means, do," Harry replied just as flamboyantly.

Two minutes later, Ron snuggled up against Harry, nuzzling his face against his chest so that Harry had to turn a bit, half lying on his side. Harry slid his left arm around Ron's head, so he could hold his precious book. Ron squirmed a bit, and Harry could have sworn he felt him smile.

"I'm not choking you, I hope?" Harry asked humorously.

Ron giggled, sending vibrations through Harry's chest, then nuzzled his face even closer, if at all possible, and took a deep breath. His senses were invaded with the combined smells of soap, sweat, and the flowery detergent his mother used for the laundry. "Nope," came his muffled voice. "I'll tell you when that happens..."

Harry dived back into his book, founding back the Elves' speech about their cloaks and trying his hardest to put images of Ron and showers out of his mind. It wasn't exactly easy, what with Ron's warm body coiled against his own, his regular breathing flowing through Harry's shirt and skimming over his skin. But Ron kept quiet, probably dozing off, and soon Harry was immersed in Middle Earth again.

'There is nothing, Lady Galadriel,' said Gimli, bowing low and stammering. 'Nothing, unless it might be--unless it is permitted to ask, nay, to name a single strand of your hair, which surpasses the gold of the earth as the stars surpass the gems of the mine. I do not ask for such a gift. But you commanded me to name my desire.'

Harry looked down at the bright ginger clump of hair nestled against his chest and smiled. Maybe not gold, but lava alright... Keeping the book opened with one hand, he buried his left hand in the middle of soft fire and absently twirled strands of it around his fingers.

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,

Yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!

God, that's even worse than Latin!

"Harry?"

Ron had to repeat Harry's name twice before he heard him, too engrossed in his book.

"Yeah?"

He could feel Ron fidgeting with his shirt.

"Sorry to interrupt your reading, but I was wondering...er...y'know how you...well...with Cho...uh..."

Harry chuckled: "Guess I deserve that...Yes? What with Cho?" Weird how her name still made him feel that little tickle, although it wasn't accompanied by that fluttery sensation in his stomach anymore. Now Ron's name gave him that.

"Well, y'know how you...how you were always so clumsy whenever you saw her?" Ron said very fast.

Harry raised his eyebrows in curiosity, although Ron couldn't see that. "Yes?"

There was a little silence, more fidgeting, then Ron whispered poutingly: "Why aren't you clumsy when I'm around?"

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. Ron didn't seem to think it was anything near funny though, as he scooted up to face Harry, frowning and slightly red.

"There's nothing funny," he said, pouting more.

Harry slid his hand from Ron's hair to his jaw, smiling. "Oh, I beg to disagree," he said, smiling mischievously. Seeing that Ron still wasn't smiling, he added, his eyes twinkling with tenderness: "Cho was a stupid crush, just like...just like Ginny's crush on me!" he said, quite happy with the comparison. Objectively, it was exactly the same thing, now that he thought about it. "I didn't even know her! It was just...hormones speaking, I guess." He shrugged.

"Yeah, but still. How come a girl you 'didn't even know' made you all clumsy, and I don't?"

Harry refrained from chuckling again, and pecked Ron on the lips. He sighed: "Okay, explanation B then."

Ron looked at him with a slightly cross and waiting expression, but Harry didn't pay attention to it.

"I know you, that's the whole point! You're my best friend! I mean...how could I feel clumsy and stupid around you, when if you're my best friend it's because you don't make me uncomfortable!"

"Only for that?" Ron asked, the shadow of a smile on his lips.

"I'm not even gonna answer that," Harry said, rolling his eyes up. "But listen...listen, if it makes you happy, tomorrow morning during breakfast, if ever you speak to me, I'll put my elbow in the butter, okay?"

To Harry's satisfaction, Ron burst out laughing. "Don't," he said, shaking his head with a grin; "Ginny would think you're making fun of her."

Harry looked thoughtful: "Actually, I'm not sure she would...she's never blushing or dropping things ever since I came back, have you noticed?"

"No," Ron said, unfazed, before snuggling back down. He had discovered that it was actually rather nice to just cuddle up against Harry and listen to the soft regular rustling of pages. It reminded him of when he was a little kid and he would crawl in his parents' bed after Fred and George had been particularly mean with him, and he would listen to his parents reading and occasionally chatting until he fell asleep.

Harry shook his head and went back to Middle Earth. After all, true or not, Ginny's change would be for the best. Long quiet minutes passed, Harry couldn't have said how many exactly, until he finally reached the end of the first part. He smiled again when he read the bit about Sam forcing Frodo to let him come with him to Mordor. It sounded so much like something Ron would do...something Ron had done before, actually.

So Frodo and Sam set off on the last stage of the Quest together. Frodo paddled away from the shore, and the River bore them swiftly away, down the western arm, and past the frowning cliffs of Tol Brandir......seeking a path that would bring them over the grey hills of the Emyn Muil, and down into the Land of Shadow.

Harry slowly closed his book and reached his right arm out and down to put the book back on the floor, and his glasses on the bedside table. He then carefully turned on his side, taking his other arm away from around Ron's waist, but he couldn't scoot away very much because Ron's own arm was hugging him tightly.

Harry kissed Ron on his forehead, pressing his lips against skin and hair for a few seconds, relishing the softness of it all. He tugged a bit, frustrated because he couldn't see more than said forehead. He smiled when Ron loosed his hold on him, so that Harry could scoot back just enough to be able to shift down and come face to face with Ron, inches from it. He could see every little detail of his features, every brown freckle spreading on Ron's cheeks and nose, every ginger eyelash caressing the soft skin under his eyes, fluttering softly like strands of grass under the summer breeze. He was sure if he could only concentrate enough, stop blinking long enough, he would be able to see the blood circulating under the skin of Ron's pink lips.

Harry curled his right arm so that it was pressing against his own left shoulder, and with his left hand he very delicately caressed Ron's lips, as well as the small stretch of skin between his upper lip and his nose, liking the way Ron's soft and warm breezing fanned across his fingertips. You're so cute, it's almost annoying...he thought with a little sigh. He wondered if Ron was sleeping, or just pretending.

Well I guess there's one good way of checking that... He nuzzled his nose against Ron's one, smiling, then softly pressed his lips against his. Ron didn't move. Mm... Harry pressed his lips against Ron's again, staying there for a second or two. When he pulled back, the corner of Ron's lips twitched upwards briefly, but Ron didn't move. Harry chuckled and this time the tip of his tongue peaked out and tremblingly travelled along Ron's bottom lip, then his upper one. Harry's left arm coiled around Ron's waist and his right hand fidgeted with Ron's hair, and at last Ron deigned kissing him back, softly and sleepily.

Harry's eyelids slowly shut as Ron's lips moved against his own, soft dry kisses soon evolving into smooth wet ones, their tongues taking their time in tasting and touching the depths of each other's mouths. Everything was slow, unhurried, bringing them a comfort that wasn't even needed but would not be disregarded.

At last, their lips and tongues parted and their eyelids fluttered open, their eyes greeted by bright pupils. The corner of Ron's eyes crinkled as he smiled and cockily asked: "So! Finished reading?"

"Yeah...sorry, got caught up in it..." Harry whispered back, looking truly embarrassed. But then he smiled and softly added: "But it was really nice, what with you lying right against me and all...I must admit I was tempted to read another chapter..." His lips were brushing against Ron's one as he spoke. He suddenly realized he had been stroking his own arm absentmindedly and quickly stopped.

"Dammit!" Ron whispered, then cut Harry's giggle with his lips, greedily sucking Harry's bottom lip into his mouth. "Y'know, your arm is pressing on my throat and it's chocking me," Ron added after a few seconds of blissful tasting.

"Oops sorry!" Harry quickly said. Ron raised his head so Harry could slip his arm under it, so that it was now pressed down on the mattress by Ron's chest. "Better?"

"Not really. Why don't you just cut if off?"

"I'm...not sure that's something I'd really like to do," Harry slowly said, before kissing Ron again.

"Too bad," Ron said a few seconds later, matter-of-factly--even though his eyes might have been a bit brighter than before. "Maybe you could blow the candle now?" he asked, hoping to Gods that Harry would say he wanted to read a bit more. I swear I'll kill him if he does, I will!

But Harry didn't plan on reading more. "Oh, right," he said, turning to the table. When he lied on his back again, Ron gripped the sheets and threw it over both their heads.

"What'ya doing?" Harry asked, giggling. "Are we going to play explorers?"

"You played to that too?"

"All the time," Harry replied, grinning. "That's one of the few games you can play to even in a cupboard! I used to roll myself into a little ball so that the bed would seem bigger, and I'd crawl to the bottom of it and pretend I was in the jungle, making my way through head-high grass. And there'd be lions, of course," he added proudly, a childish gleam in his eyes.

Ron felt as if all his insides were liquefying and possibly turning pink with red hearts all over them and he quickly leaned down to claim Harry's lips into a searing kiss, tenderly framing Harry's face with his hands. Then he smiled and said, just as proudly: "I was fighting off werewolves."

Harry chuckled. "But anyway, supposing we are not going to play explorers, what did you do that for?"

"Well, that way, if ever somebody comes in, they won't be able to know what we're doing," Ron said, shrugging.

Harry chuckled, his eyes getting wide: "Yeah, coz my empty bed and both of us under your sheets really won't give us away!"

Ron smiled quite seductively and raised an eyebrow: "Well...at least they won't be able to see how much we're doing..."

As planned, a veil of pink smoothly fell on Harry's cheeks, and he started nibbling on his lip, agreeably nervous. "D'you...d'you intend to do much?"

God yes! Having a Swimsuit Drenched Harry in my head for the whole afternoon was a teaser, right?! But Ron shushed his horny inner voice, and instead his lips slowly stretched into one of the nicest smile Harry had ever seen him wear: "Well...we'll see but...you never know, right?"

Harry chewed on his lip with renewed vigour, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. He let out a little sigh, and absently reached a hand up to play with Ron's hair, twirling it around his fingers as he gazed up at Ron's features. "Y'know, it's still kinda weird..." he whispered lightly.

"What is?" Ron whispered back, his eyes currently stuck on the twitching left corner of Harry's lips, his tongue itching to lick it.

"Well...y'know..."

Ron smiled: "Mate, you're going to have to be a little more precise here..."

Harry chuckled and his fingers moved down to brush against Ron's creamy neck: "Well five days ago I was looking at you and I was thinking..." He trailed off, and seemed to think about it for a while, before shrugging; "Well actually I wasn't really thinking anything in particular, apart...well of course, y'know, in the back of my mind I've always thought I was lucky to have you, but..."

Ron beamed and shyly whispered: "You did?"

Harry almost laughed: "Of course I did, silly. You're an amazing friend..." Except when you think I'm stupid enough to put my name in for a deathly competition, of course...his annoying subconscious added - definitely sporting Malfoy's voice again - but Harry firmly ignored it.

Ron blushed slightly, nibbling on his bottom lip. Harry wished he could do that to his lip.

"And so...where was I? Oh yeah. Yeah and so now when I look at you, whenever I look at you, I'm thinking..." His eyes misted over with a dreamy look and he leaned up to kiss Ron, a sweet soft kiss. "Now I'm thinking that it's amazing how cute you are and I can't believe I didn't notice it before..."

"Stop it..." Ron chided casually, but his cheeks turned a blazing red and he stared at Harry's cheek, too shy to look him in the eyes. Harry's hand slipped behind Ron's neck, caressing the soft short hair that was there, and he brought Ron down to kiss him again, trying to show him clearly how cute he thought he was.

"And especially when you blush," he added once he was done with Ron's lips, trailing his fingertips down his hot cheek. "But then, I've always thought that," he said lightly.

Ron gaped at him, then blushed even more - if that was at all possible - and leaned down, hiding his head against Harry's neck. "Liar," he mumbled, glad Harry couldn't see the grin on his face.

"I'm so not!" Harry chuckled, caressing Ron's hair. Ron squirmed in Harry's arms, grinning more, then shyly looked up again. "I mean, I don't even get that whole fuss about not blushing," he said, knowing full well he wasn't exactly sincere--after all, he positively hated blushing. But he was entirely sincere when he added: "T'looks cute on you anyway, makes your freckles stand out."

Ron seemed torn up between pleasure at being called cute, annoyance because it was quite a girly term, and bother because he didn't think his freckles needed to stand out anymore than they already did. So, without noticing, he ended up frowning and grinning at the same time, which sent Harry into fits of giggles.

"Compliment, Ron," Harry said before pecking him on the lips. "Definitely a compliment."

Ron's frown disappeared and Harry giggled again. His hand went back to Ron's face and Harry traced the line of Ron's freckles with the tip of his fingers, then his closed eyelids, and his eyebrows. Ron sighed and leaned back down, nuzzling his face against Harry's neck. He only planned to remain in that warm haven for a minute or two, but Harry didn't have the heart to wake him up.

*~*~*

Ron's eyes shot open and he gasped, his body getting rigid. A spider. Where had it gone? It was walking on the ceiling, with its big hairy legs, right above his head, and now it was gone; he could see the white ceiling quite well in the blue light of the night, and there weren't any black hairy things up there. Had it gone down? Oh god, it must be on him then!! It must--then Ron realized that Harry was sleeping beside him, on his right, an arm and a leg possessively thrown on Ron's body; Harry's foot rested on Ron's shin, having pushed Ron's pant-leg up his knee. Harry would make the spider go away. Harry had to make the spider go away.

Ron slowly turned his head to the side to try and see Harry's face, but he was so scared that his body would move, urging the spider on, that he hurt his neck badly and only managed to get a glimpse of raven hair.

When they had gone to Privet Drive at the beginning of their second year, it had been night-time, and Ron had seen what Harry had told him worked with etelc...eclec...whatever that was called, and you just had to press or switch a button and bam!, there was light. He wished they had that too, in the wizarding world. So that whenever he thought there was a three-feet-long spider lying on top of him, he'd just have to reach out for the button, and he'd see it for himself. But you couldn't do that with a candle. You had to get up and find matches and everything, when you were a Hogwarts' student and it was summer.

He couldn't stand it a second longer. He had to know if there was a damn spider on his bed or not. So, ever so slowly, he reached out over his chest to reach Harry's shoulder - his other arm seemed to be trapped under Harry's body, anyway it was quite asleep - and carefully shook it - don't make the sheets move, don't make the sheets move...

"Harry," he whispered imploringly, "Harry, wake up, please...wake up."

Harry grumbled, then turned on his other side, taking the bedclothes with him, and Ron shrieked. Harry sprung up and looked down at Ron with wide eyes. "What is it?!?" he asked, a hand on his frenzied heart.

"You made the sheet move," was all that Ron could say, in a very feeble, very moaning voice.

"Uh?" was Harry's eloquent response.

"Sp-spider...on the bed..." Ron moaned again, frozen on his back, absolutely livid.

Harry turned and looked down at the white bed sheet, then at the walls, and back at Ron. "There's no spider, Ron," he said, frowning in confusion. He raised the sheet to check the inside of the bed - Ron squealed - then let it fall back on their legs. Then he leaned over Ron, to see the floor. "Ron, I promise you, there's no spider anywhere!"

"Are you sure? Maybe it's hiding..."

Harry suddenly smiled, understanding dawning on his sleepy brain. "Nightmare, uh?" he asked, leaning back on his side, gently stroking Ron's cheek with the back of his hand.

Ron took a deep breath, and slowly, slowly propped himself up on his elbows, then scanned the bed, and let himself fall back, sighing: "I guess. Sorry..."

"T's'okay," Harry whispered, smiling. He bent down and gently kissed Ron on the lips, lingering there for a second or two, relishing their warmth. "I think you're dead cute when you're scared of spiders," he added mischievously.

But Ron didn't seem convinced. "You mean 'cute' as in utterly stupid, I guess?" he asked crossly. "You didn't seem to find it so cute back when I was petrified in front of that damn Aragog...kept shushing me..."

"I was stupid back then," Harry replied sternly, not missing a beat.

Ron's lips stretched into an incredulous smile, he fidgeted a bit, and didn't push the subject further on.

"From now on, I promise you I'll fend off any spider that dares coming close to you," Harry added anyway, looking very determined indeed. Ron was quite impressed that Harry managed not to smile. "Nobody messes with my boyfriend," he ended with a delighted smile. It still gave him butterflies every time he used the word, but he wasn't about to say that out loud.

Ron grinned, and grinned, and grinned a bit more when Harry pecked him on the lips, smiled to him tenderly, and finally cuddled up against him again, throwing his leg back on Ron's legs and sighing softly before going back to sleep.