How To Mend a Broken Soul

Day Six: Sugar and Prefects

Molly Weasley looked at the kitchen clock - the one that really gave the hour - and sighed, smiling. Half past eleven and none of her children were up. Thank god I told them to go to sleep early, she thought, amused; What would it be if I hadn't, I wonder! Shaking her head, she started climbing the stairs, intent on waking them all up. After all, she hadn't spent an hour cooking breakfast for five for nothing!

Knock-knock-knock... "Ginny? Ginny, darling, time to wake up," Molly said, before opening the door and peering inside the dark room. The only part of her daughter that was visible was her vividly red hair, all the rest carefully hidden under the sheets.

"Too early, mom," Ginny mumbled, waving a hand dismissively in the air.

"Ginny, it's almost lunch time," Molly said sternly, crossing the room to go open the heavy red curtains that her daughter had chosen when she was eight. Ginny shrieked when the sunlight came splashing on her face through her white sheet and quickly rolled on her stomach, pressing her head down on her pillow.

"I'll be back in five minutes, you know," Molly said with a smile, before heading for the twins' room.

Their reaction was pretty much the same, only this time Molly really didn't feel like entering their den to open the curtains - god only knew what she might walk on! She wondered why she had let her wand on the kitchen table and sighed, making sure to let the door wide open before climbing the last flight of stairs.

She softly knocked on the door, then opened it; Ron's curtains were all flimsy and old, so his room was already pretty much as sunny as it would get. Molly rolled her eyes in front of the piles of clothes scattered everywhere - hadn't she collected them all just two days before?? - and turned her eyes to her son's bed, thinking that maybe Harry was already under the shower.

Molly's mouth slowly fell open and her shoulders slumped. Somehow, she felt she should have expected this, but the fact that she should have didn't diminish the fact that she hadn't.

Somewhere during the night the boys had managed to reverse their positions, discarding the bed sheet in the process, and they were now sleeping with their backs to the wall, Ron spooning Harry from behind, an arm loosely wrapped around Harry's waist. Harry's right arm was curved around Ron's side, so that Harry's torso was half turned upwards, Ron's nose nuzzled against Harry's cheek. And they both looked...so happy. Content, even.

Ron's hand was resting on Harry's bare stomach, his shirt somewhat rolled up above his belly-button; it stirred, then his fingers slowly sprawled on the soft skin. Harry made a funny little noise, half a hiccup and half a chuckle, and his nose wrinkled at the top. Ron's face didn't seem to move at all, but Molly did notice the right corner of his lips curling up ever so slightly. His fingers slowly shrank back into a claw, the very tips of them rotating slightly from left to right. Harry wriggled against Ron's body, smiling. They were obviously waking up, and Molly quickly shut the door, as silently as possible, before they dared open their eyes.

She tremblingly walked down one flight of stairs and leaned against the wall, beside the twins' door, trying to take in what she had just seen. There was a weird fluttering in the middle of her stomach, and she couldn't fathom what it stood for. The first time she had seen the two boys sleeping in the same bed, she had truly thought it was just a friendly gesture, some comfort brought to Harry (talk about denial! Molly scolded herself). But now...Well, it was probably for comfort, but it was also so much more, she could feel it...Molly sighed, closing her eyes for a second or two. She had never thought that they would...that they would...(oh, for Christ's sake, just think it!) That they would end up together. Because she knew without a doubt that Harry and Ron were not the fool-around kind. They can't be, she thought firmly.

She had always secretly fancied that Ron would date that nice Hermione, and well...maybe, maybe one day Harry would look at Ginny and see beyond her childish crush to the woman she was steadily becoming. She knew it was awfully cliché, but that way she would have been sure she always had all of them around her, that they wouldn't drift apart.

Well, now I guess Harry and Ron definitely won't drift apart...she thought with the shadow of a smile. ...But what if they do? What if they realize they're not meant to be together that way, and they can't cope with it, and they stop being friends?! Molly suddenly panicked. They need each other, I know Harry relies on Ron, and I know Ron is glad to have a friend apart from his brothers...Oh god. Molly brought her hand to her forehead, massaging the stretch of skin between her eyebrows. No need to think about that for now...What should I do? I can't...I can't tell them I've seen them, but should I...should I just let them sleep in the same room? What if they go too fast, too soon? God, like it wasn't enough that you can't let Hermione and the boys sleep in the same room for stupid teenage-hormones related worries, now you can't even trust two boys?! ...should I forbid Ginny and Hermione to sleep together when she comes over, then?

Molly chuckled to herself and shook her head, smiling. She could only imagine what Arthur's face would look like if he could hear his wife's thoughts at the moment, with his eyes getting wide and a flush colouring his cheeks. Such a teenager still...

Molly took a deep breath and turned back towards the stairs.

*~*~*

Ron's fingers sprawled on Harry's belly once again, his palm pressing down against the skin, warming both of them up--as much more as it could with the summer heat already drenching their room.

Ron smiled against Harry's cheek, loving the smooth way his stomach heaved up and down, the beating of his heart growing less and less faint under Ron's hand. Harry sighed contentedly, squirming against Ron's body, trying to get closer to him. Suddenly Ron's lips were pressed against Harry's cheek, and his fingers crawled an inch down and slipped under the waistband of Harry's pyjamas. Harry gasped, his hand clenching around the back of Ron's shirt, but he dutifully kept his eyes and mouth shut, not willing to put a stop to Ron's explorations. His brain was still much too sleepy to start over-analyzing things and get freaked out, and Harry thought this was something too good to be disregarded.

Ron's lips blindly made their way down to Harry's earlobe and caressed it a couple of times before softly enclosing it in wet warmth; the tip of Ron's tongue traced the curved outline, then pressed against the underside. Harry moaned and Ron smiled, but didn't free the bit of flesh. All the while, his hand was making its way down, quickly passing the fabric of Harry's boxers to finally rest on Harry's right knee, trapped under the lose pyjamas. It slid down an inch, seeking some flesh fit to fondle.

"God, you've got almost no hair there!" Ron mumbled around Harry's earlobe, giggling. "I'm sure even Ginny is more hairy than you!"

Harry blushed crimson and made a face; "Thanks Ron, now I won't be able to see Ginny ever again without screaming!" he said, his eyes still closed.

"What," Ron said, letting go of Harry's flesh at last, "you didn't think girls didn't have hairs just like us, did you?"

Harry couldn't blush harder, but it wasn't for lack of will. "Hey, not everybody's got a sister, y'know! I just...never thought about it!"

"Well they do. They just get rid of them, that's all. ...So, I guess you never caught your Aunt without her skirt on, then?" Ron added as an afterthought, smiling at what he knew was to come.

"YURK!!!" Harry yelled, scrunching up his face in disgust. "That's it, I'm getting up and vomiting, Ron. And don't you dare ever talking to me about girls again!" Harry said, finally opening his eyes and trying to get away from Ron.

But then Ron's hand slid right down and under Harry's boxer's leg, his fingertips stopping at the very top of his thigh and his palm petting the supple skin, and Harry quite forgot about anything he had been planning to do apart from gripping the back of Ron's shirt again and letting out a gasping moan.

Petting Harry's thigh wasn't an extraordinary experience in itself, after all it was just skin, but Ron soon discovered the exhilaration rested elsewhere: he could almost feel the power emerging from his own fingers, creeping up under Harry's skin, its waves licking at the edges of...well, at the edges, Ron's brain hastily simplified, flushing imperceptibly. Sometimes Ron wondered if his brain had always been so girly. Then he'd remember how it reacted the day he had finally noticed the curves under Hermione's sweater, and he'd submit.

But for now, Harry was slightly arching against him, his skin and other things trying as hard as they could to reach out for Ron, and using his brain was quite the last thing on Ron's To-Do list.

Harry's breath was coming out in soft gasps, his eyes seemingly unable to decide whether they preferred staying wide open or tightly shut. Ron's hand slid back up Harry's right thigh (rewarded with a threatening grunt from deep inside Harry's throat), flew over his boxers, caressed its way along his stomach, and finally up the other thigh, quickly settling on kneading the soft flesh again. There was a definite improvement now, in Harry's point of view, because Ron's arm was stretched across Harry's middle, his forearm resting against a certain pressing matter which was quite eager for any touch it could get.

Harry suddenly felt Ron's lips pressed against random places on his face and raised his chin up, dying to get those lips on his own. But he heard Ron chuckling and the lips left his face. Ron's hand made its way down, his thumb now massaging the flesh so close to Harry's middle...then Ron's hand flew away again, Harry wondered what would be the most satisfying way to kill his best friend, the hand decided to hover over the crotch of Harry's boxers, and Harry forgot how to breathe.

So close, it was so close, Harry could feel its warmth flowing down on his skin. If Harry raised his hips a millimetre higher, if Ron's fingers lowered themselves another millimetre...Both boys were holding their breaths in like they were about to add the final ingredient to an extremely dangerous potion...

Knock-knock-knock. "Boys?"

Ron's hand flew away and Harry rolled on his side, his back turned to Ron again, four eyes staring at the closed door.

"Y...yeah?" Ron said, clearing his throat. He was holding his breath in, waiting for his mother to open the door and look at them with wide eyes.

Harry, on the other hand, was feverishly thinking of his potions master in a g-string, trying to get rid of some very embarrassing problem. The image was so horrible that it managed to both calm things down remarkably fast, and make Harry feel sick.

But the door didn't budge. "Breakfast is ready," Molly's voice continued, muffled by the wood. "And it's almost lunch time, so I'd appreciate it if you could come down quick," she said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

"Okay!" Ron answered loudly, breathing a sigh of relief when his mother's footsteps died away.

There was silence for a while, then:

"I hate you," Harry hissed with a smile, not bothering to look back at his friend's face.

He heard Ron chuckle softly: "Hey, don't hate me, hate her!"

"I wouldn't dare," Harry replied gentlemanly, and he giggled when he felt Ron trying to bite his neck. He sat up, flung his legs off the bed and stretched, yawning. He yelped when Ron's arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, forcing him to stay sat. Ron scooted closer and pressed his face up against Harry's lower back, then curled his legs up around Harry's waist, so that both his thighs were pressing against Harry's torso, one leg resting on Harry's own thighs.

"Bu...will you...jus...help! Help! I've got a Weasley on me!!" Harry yelled, trying unsuccessfully to uncap Ron from his waist. He felt Ron chuckling against his back, then suddenly his shirt was creeping up and Ron's lips were pressed against Harry's skin. Ron's tongue peeked out and traced a short wet line on the curve of Harry's lower back, before his lips crashed back against it. Harry felt a shiver going all the way up his spine, then collapse right to the bottom of his stomach and further down, right against Ron's leg. Harry bit back a moan with great difficulty, desperately trying to will his body to stay poised, when suddenly Ron, with his mouth still glued to his skin, blew a raspberry right on Harry's back, with a loud "pfrrrrrt!" noise. The scene froze for a second of shocked silence, then Harry burst out laughing, jumping on his feet and turning to Ron with an incredulous smile.

"What the hell was that?!" Harry asked, still laughing, rubbing his drooling back with his shirt and shaking his head.

"The Weasley Glomp," Ron answered with a smile, before painfully standing up as well, stretching. Next thing he knew, he had a pair of Potter arms around his waist and warm lips on his craned neck. Ron's arms fell back at his sides and he opened his eyes again, smiling.

After a few seconds of lapping at the gutter of Ron's shoulder, Harry released him with an awkward smile. "Still practising," he mumbled before Ron could even ask.

Ron smiled delightedly at him before pecking him on the lips: "T'was pretty good already," he said, before pushing Harry to the door. "C'mon, let's go, I'm hungry!"

"Hey, I wasn't the one to delay things!" Harry protested before hopping away from Ron's hands, afraid he might push the zeal too far and make Harry tumble down the stairs.

Molly was piling food on plates when Harry and Ron stomped into the kitchen, closely followed by the twins.

"At last," she said in a reproving-yet-tender tone. "Has anyone seen Ginny?"

The four boys shrugged and slumped on their chairs, happily helping themselves to toasts, coffee and tea.

"By the way, your Hogwarts letters have finally arrived," Molly pointed out, turning to the windowsill and handing them their envelopes.

They dutifully opened them, wondering how many new books they would need to purchase; Harry was moderately interested in his letter and almost immediately went back to his scrambled eggs. He caught the twins glancing sideways at him with slightly anxious looks on their faces, then at Ron, and their eyes widened considerably. Harry flipped over on his chair to look at his best friend, who was staring at the parchment in his hands, the paper slightly trembling along with his fingers, mouth hanging open.

"What..." Harry begun, but then Fred and George were noisily pushing back their chairs and hurrying to Ron's one, peering at the parchment over his shoulder.

"No way..." Fred whispered. "No fu--"

"Fred!!" Molly shouted, sensing what was to come. "Now what is it, boys?" she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen cloth and calmly walking to Ron's chair. Harry was looking at them all, almost hopping on his seat, wondering what all the fuss was about but not daring to just snatch the letter away from Ron's still trembling hands. What could Ron have had written in his letter that Harry did n...and then it hit him, one second before George actually said the word, in a disdainful and shocked voice:

"Prefect. He's...a prefect."

"That can't be true," Fred said firmly, obviously in denial.

But Molly has stopped dead in her tracks at the word "prefect", and was now reading Ron's letter herself, her cheeks getting pink with happiness. She was mouthing the words as she read, Ron looking up at her with a baffled expression, as if he was waiting for her to tell him that the letter was a fake.

Obviously, Fred and George were praying for the same thing.

And Harry felt a twinge of guilt when he realized he was praying for that as well.

Molly slowly lowered the letter and looked down at her youngest son with dreamy eyes. Then suddenly, without anybody seeing her actually move, she was bending down and hugging Ron to death, crying with joy and chanting:

"Oh my baby, you're a prefect, you're a prefect, oh Ronnie that's just...that's just..."

"Sickening."

"Outrageous."

"And wrong, possibly," Fred and George enumerated, looking very upset with their baby brother. "I mean, seriously, nobody in their right mind would make Ron a prefect!!"

"Fred, George, that is enough!" Molly said sternly, glaring at her sons while caressing Ron's hair. But Ron didn't even seem to notice the bitter remarks of his brothers. His gaze had drifted from his mother to the table, and then to Harry, and both boys were just looking at each other, speechless. Harry tried to smile, only to discover that his lips were plain refusing to obey him. What's wrong with you, smile!! Ron started chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes getting more anxious with every millisecond that passed.

Using all his might, Harry managed to give Ron a very strained smile, then glanced at Ron's envelope, which was lying forgotten on the table. Ron automatically followed Harry's gaze, stared at the envelope for two seconds, then understanding seemed to dawn on him and he grabbed it, flipping it over his outstretched hand. A badge fell from it, gold and red with a shining P on it.

Harry felt something nasty twirling around in his stomach at the sight and his feeble smile disappeared. Molly squealed again as the badge caught the light and her eye, and Ron was immediately hugged again, dropping the badge on the floor in his surprise. Harry looked at it for a few seconds like it was something dangerous, then slowly bent down in his chair and cautiously picked it up, before bringing it to his face. That's the closest you'll get to see it, he thought, unconsciously stroking the letter with his thumb. He tried to imagine Ron with the shining P on his robes, parading in the corridors while he would be doing...well, something else. Harry lowered his opened hand on his knee, still staring at the badge resting in his clammy palm. Then suddenly Ron's fingers came brushing against his, covering the badge, and Harry looked up.

Ron didn't look as happy as he should have. Indeed, he looked downright confused and...was it scared? He grimaced and gently took the badge away from Harry's hand, handing it to his still squealing mother, while the twins were making puking sounds behind her back, still scowling. Harry felt suddenly weary and looked at his plate of food without enthusiasm, which quickly turned into a slight nausea. But he couldn't just leave like that, could he? What would Ron think? He hadn't even spoken a word of congratulation to his friend yet! To your boyfriend...great start, ain't it?

Thankfully, Ginny came into the room at that precise moment, and Molly immediately started reporting the good news to her, aided by Ron, who was finally coming out of his stupor and getting just as excited as his mother. Harry took the opportunity to silently exit the room. He caught the twins eyes on his way and he was surprised to see them smiling sympathetically at him and even more surprised when Fred mouthed "You deserved to have it more". But curiously, it didn't make him feel better at all, only worse. He heard Ginny say that Hermione probably had gotten the second badge as he climbed the first flight of stairs, then it was all silent.

Well, it would have been all silent, if his head hadn't suddenly been swarming with bitter thoughts. Harry closed the door of Ron's room a little more harshly than intended and slumped down on his own bed, looking grim. He should be happy. He should be happy. He shouldn't feel as if somebody had snatched a bone from under his nose. This is Ron. Ron. You should be happy for him!!

Harry abruptly stood up from the bed and went to the window, leaning his forehead against the glass, his brows furrowing. Yes, he should be happy for Ron. But...he thought he would get the badge, after all he had been through...

Oh, don't even start with that, his Malfoy-ish subconscious firmly interrupted. You didn't think about it once, ever! So don't act all goody-goody and shocked as if you had been dreaming of becoming a prefect for ages!

Harry wondered if he should talk to Ron about the fact that Malfoy was apparently living in his head, but he knew Ron would most probably:

a: think he was barking mad

b: be jealous because if Harry had a voice in his head, shouldn't it be his, and not Draco's?

c: both

d: laugh his ass off

...and Harry was quite positive he didn't want to witness any of those.

And you're trying to ignore me, don't think I'm not catching up on that, too.

But before Harry could go further into this rather-insane debate, Ron literally hopped in the room, grinning from ear to ear. He slammed the door shut in his enthusiasm and then tried to look casual as he walked to the window, but his lips kept wanting to stretch into a smile again, and his walk was looking everything but natural. On any other circumstance Harry would probably have melted into a puddle and thought that Ron was both awfully cute and awkwardly handsome, but just then he realized that he would rather Ron being anywhere but near him, with his stupid smile and his stupid badge and his stupid gorgeous body.

"'Lo, why are you looking all broody? Quite dramatic, standing in front of the window and all..."

"Well, we can't all be jumping up and down, now, can we?" Harry snapped, back to staring at the garden below. He immediately wished he hadn't said that, but of course it was too late to change anything. He could feel Ron's enthusiasm evaporating all of a sudden and the Defiance button being pushed inside Ron's brain.

"So you really weren't happy for me downstairs, were you? I thought maybe you were just under shock, like me..." Ron said, and the coldness and disappointment in his voice made Harry wince. "Look," Ron continued, his tone turning to anger and embarrassment, "I never thought it would be me, ever. I thought it would be you, but I won't pretend that I'm not happy because...well, I am. And I never will let the twins or you or anybody else let me think it's wrong that I've been made a prefect!" he ended with determination written all over his face. He reminded Harry a lot of Neville when he had stood up to them in their first year.

I sure hope you won't! Harry wanted to say, but what came out was oh-so-wrong: "Fine! And I won't let anybody make me believe I shouldn't have been getting that badge!!"

Harry couldn't believe he had just said that. He hadn't even meant it!! ...had he? But the matter wasn't there, because right then Ron was looking like he was ready to strangle him or to run away.

"D'you mean you think it shouldn't have been me?" he asked, his cheeks colouring rapidly.

No, no I don't think that. "Well if I think it should have been me, the answer's quite obvious, right?!" Nooo!! Just shut up, mouth, shut up!!

Ron's fists clenched at his side and he started breathing heavily. Harry thought he looked like a bull ready to charge, but he was too furious (although he was beginning to wonder at what exactly) to be remotely scared.

"Can you..." Ron hesitated, then hissed: "Can you give me reasons?"

No, no I--oh shut up and let me have some fun! "Oh well, on the top of my head," Harry's Malfoy-ness answered, "I'd say I've fought Voldemort--" Ron winced, and Harry delighted in it, "--like, five times, while you were...where were you, again, every time?"

Harry couldn't believe he was saying all that. And he could even less believe the sheer malice dripping out of his voice. After two seconds of embarrassed, then panicky, silence from Ron, Harry sneered: "I've made my point."

Ron opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, and just before Harry Malfoy (or Draco Potter) was about to snide that he looked like a stupid goldfish, the words finally came tumbling out: "I was with you!!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes wide and wet. "I was with you, even though maybe not until the end, okay!"

"Oh yeah?" Harry pretended to think for a few seconds, then said: "Weird, I can't remember seeing you with me in that cemetery last year, or any time before that....is my memory failing me?"

Ron started looking like a bull again: "Okay, not last year, and so what?! It wasn't my fault!! But in the first year, I was there!! I saved your sorry ass with that chess game!! If it hadn't been for me, you'd have never gone to the mirror alive!!" He was shouting at the top of his voice now, leaning down as if it would throw his voice further away, and jabbing his finger at his own chest. "And in second year, who came with you without any complaint, in that stupid Spider's lair?! Who?! Me!!" Ron's voice broke on that, but he continued anyway, his throat sore. "I can't stand even the littlest of spider, and I had to walk among thousands of them, and I kept feeling like they were creeping on my body, and did I complain? No!! Because I wouldn't have left you alone in there, that's why!!"

Harry was feeling his anger draining away, and a strong desire to kiss Ron surge through his veins again, but Ron didn't look very...amiable, right then. Yeah, that's the least you can say. Harry couldn't believe he had been stupid enough to forget all of that, all of what Ron had done, solely for him.

"And in third year, who got dragged through that hole by a wild dog?! Who got his leg broken? Me!!!" Ron yelled, and now angry tears were actually spilling on his cheeks, which were so red Harry was wondering if they'd catch fire soon.

"I...I know," Harry finally dared to whisper. Ron was so startled he almost chocked on thin air, then straightened back up, staring at Harry. "I know," Harry said again, in the same soft voice. "I'm sorry."

That seemed to throw Ron off. His cheeks slowly paled and his breathing calmed down, but he wasn't moving and Harry wasn't sure he could move either.

"So you admit I was the one who deserved it, right?" Ron quietly asked after a while, he didn't really know why. Harry had said he was sorry, wasn't it what really mattered?

"Wha--no, I just said you were right, you were with me, most of the times," Harry said, looking genuinely surprised.

Less than a second later, Ron was a bright red again: "So you still think you should have gotten it?"

"Well, I..." Yes you should, a sneaky little voice whispered in his ear. Have you forgotten everything you've done? He was only there, he didn't do anything.

"Do you?" Ron asked again, glaring.

Harry frowned. Who was Ron to tell him he shouldn't have gotten that badge, hm?! "I did more than you," he finally said, looking smug. "I was the one to do the important stuff!! I was the one to come face to face to Voldemort!!" He smirked when Ron winced, as always. "And you're not even brave enough to hear his name..." Harry finished with a smooth voice that sounded a lot like Lucius Malfoy.

"Mom said we should go have a swim in the lake before lunch, it's quite hot outs..." Ginny's voice faltered at the view of the two boys standing three feet away from each other, Harry looked a weird mixture of angry and smug, and Ron was redder than Ginny could remember seeing him, fists clenched at his side. Ginny looked at them both for a minute or so, obviously perplexed, then seemed to deem it more careful not to ask any question and therefore softly closed the door behind her on her way out.

Ron and Harry hadn't even thrown a look in her direction, engrossed in their little glaring contest. Ron quite wanted to pound on Harry, but the idea that the match could end up with them making out was really irking him at the moment. Right then, he didn't want to have anything to do with that traitor standing in front of him.

"You know that I'm going to go, right?" he told Harry, baring his teeth.

"And why would I care?" Harry spat back.

"Just making sure you won't be disappointed," Ron said, smirking.

"Like I would care what you do!" Harry said, stepping forward.

"I thought so," Ron said, his tone softer, then he seemed to compose himself again and snarled: "Okay, so I'm going. T'should be quite nice, with this heat."

"Oh yeah? Well then I don't see why I shouldn't enjoy it as well!!" Harry yelled back, his face inches away from Ron's one.

"Fine!!" Ron yelled back, fuming.

"Fine!!"

And the boys stomped away from Ron's room, down to the kitchen, all the way ignoring one another, before coming back two minutes later to furiously change into their swimsuits.

*~*~*

The twins looked a bit surprised when Harry and Ron reached the lake in silence and looking pissed, but Ginny had obviously told them about the shouting because they didn't say anything. Harry dived head first into the water and started swimming, trying to get his anger and frustration out by exhausting himself.

He could hear Ginny's high pitched screams and Ron's laughter, but couldn't bring himself to join them all, no matter how many times the twins shouted his name. After what seemed like one hour, his mind finally cooled down and he realized exactly what he had done and said. Who was he to decide whether Ron was worthy to get the Prefect badge?! Who was he to put Ron down because he hadn't had the bad luck to be Voldemort's target of choice?! Yes, he had done more than Ron, he couldn't bring himself to deny that part, but Ron had risked his life for Harry. Not to save the world or to save his skin, no. Just for Harry. And Harry wasn't sure that before this summer he would have seriously considered taking so many risks just to save his best friends' skins.

Harry did a few breast-strokes under water, wondering if maybe the best thing to do right now would be to drown. Even with his sudden remorse, the anger he had felt was still boiling inside of him, out of frustration at being so stupid, and also still a bit of jealousy, and he was worried he might start to shout at Ron again next time they'd try talking. However, when the twins shouted to him that they had decided to do a water-fight, Harry swam back to their level and watched them, smiling.

Fred took George on his shoulders and Ron paired up with Ginny, and they started fighting like cats, hands and feet flying everywhere. George kept trying to pull Ginny's hair, but she was fighting back just as fiercely with her nails (the trick was that she could even scratch him with her toes). As for Ron and Fred, they were too busy trying to make each other trip in the water to pay much attention to what was happening above them.

Harry kept cheering both teams on, although it didn't go unnoticed by anyone that he didn't say Ron's name once. Even though he had to admit to himself, very reluctantly, that the view was quite...cheering. Yes, exactly like the day before, when the very same Weasleys had been fighting with food. It almost (...almost) made him wonder why exactly he and Ron had had such a fight a mere thirty minutes before.

Finally, after much shouts, bites, scratches, gulps of water and diverse exclamations ("She bit me!!" "Ouch!! Below the waist isn't permitted, damn you!!" "Ron, stop jumping away, I'm going to fall!"), the twins managed to push Ginny off Ron's shoulders, sending victorious war-shouts to the bright blue sky. Ginny emerged from the water, looking very much like a wet angry cat, arms crossed on her half-immerged chest; but no matter how hard she was trying to look pissed, her lips were stretching more and more into a mischievous smile.

"Well, I guess it's time to take our trophies, ain't it?" George said with a wicked grin, glancing sideways at his brother. Fred's lips stretched into an identical smile and suddenly they were pounding on Ron and Ginny. It soon became obvious that the trophies in questions would be their swimsuits, and Harry laughed and blushed, wondering if they would really dare to strip Ginny off, no matter how dark the water was. He never got the answer, for right that moment Mrs Weasley's voice came floating to them from a distance, although Molly was nowhere to be seen:

"Ginny? Ginny, there's a letter for you!"

Ginny slid away from her brother's grip like a fish and run home laughing, quite glad she could escape their little vendetta.

Unfortunately for Ron, this meant that George could now help his twin brother, and soon enough Fred was howling to the sun, brandishing a bright blue swimsuit out of Ron's reach. Ron went beetroot red in a few seconds and tried to jump on his brother, but George restrained him, leaving Fred time to run out of the water. George let go of Ron and quickly got away as well, and both of them stood on the edge of the lake, waving at Ron with his own swimsuit.

"Give it back to me!!" Ron yelled, then as the twins only laughed harder, he seemed to accept that this was a lost cause, and looked down at the water, biting his lip.

"You know, I think that blue would be just lovely among green leaves, what do you think, dear brother?" Fred asked loudly, turning to George.

"Ohhh, yes! Absolutely adorable!" George cooed, and then they were running away to the trees lining the path, shouting and laughing.

Ron remained neck-high in the water, crouching; his face was a deep scarlet and Harry was surprised the water around him wasn't boiling yet. He couldn't help but giggle at the twins prank, but he also felt sorry for Ron. Damn, he sure wouldn't have wanted to be at the receiving end of that one!

But Ron saw him giggle, and when Harry turned to him, ready to shot him a sympathetic smile, Ron was glaring at him.

"Go on, laugh. I bet you think I deserved it, right?" he shouted at Harry, angry tears ready to spill out.

"What..." Harry started, his eyes getting round.

"Probably think that they're hilarious, so why don't you go help them?!" Ron continued, diverting his eyes away from Harry's surprised face.

Harry suddenly understood and rolled his eyes, taking a step closer to Ron. But before he could say anything the twins were running back to them, laughing louder than ever.

"We were right, it looks splendid," Fred said, grinning.

Ron glared at them, but it didn't seem to affect them in the slightest. They stood there, waiting, then George said: "So, why don't you come out and get it back? Afraid Harry will see you naked?" He had said the last word perkily, winking at Harry.

Suddenly, Fred's face lightened up and he clapped his hands: "Oooh, but maybe little Ronniekins doesn't dare coming out? Did little Ronniekins the prefect get a little too excited by his new position, maybe?"

Ron only blushed a deeper shade of red, and Harry was now feeling genuinely sorry for him, no matter how annoying he could get sometimes. Only, he really couldn't see himself telling the twins off. He had never done it before, and he didn't want them to gang up on him as well.

Thankfully, he was spared the choice by Molly, who had just appeared from behind the trees, some feet away:

"Boys? Lunch's ready! Come on quick, I'd like to go to Diagon Alley when it's not too crowded. ...and Ron," she added as an afterthought, "I know you'll probably spend three hours choosing your new broom, so the sooner we leave, the sooner you'll have it!"

"A new broom?" Harry asked, turning back to Ron after the twins had left, still laughing at their baby brother.

"Yeah," Ron mumbled, avoiding Harry's eyes. "Not that you'd care or anything," he added acidly.

Harry gaped at him for a few seconds, then closed his mouth and sighed, willing himself to remain calm. Strangling Ron wouldn't do much good anyway. Harry half-swam, half-walked to where Ron was still standing, his hands hidden below the water, probably hiding his family jewels from conspicuous goldfishes. "Look," he said reluctantly, stopping a few inches from Ron's body, on Ron's side; "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, and you can just feel that comes from the heart," Ron sneered, still not looking at him.

Harry bit down on his lip, a nasty retort pressing against his closed mouth. "Look, I'd like to see how you would have reacted if I had gotten that stupid badge!" he shouted. So much for staying calm.

To his surprise, Ron turned to him, glaring. "Well I'd have been happy!!" he yelled, slamming his fist against the water. "Because I would have thought that you deserved it, and that it was normal!! ...but that's just the point, isn't it?" he added, his voice softer. "Nobody thinks that me getting it is normal. Even mom was too happy, like somebody had granted her an impossible wish." He looked away again, his anger replaced by utter gloom.

That shut Harry up. He thought he'd get pissed, like every time Ron started talking about how useless he was, but right then it just made something inside of him ache. Harry walked closer, not daring to reach out although he was dying to take Ron in his arms. "Don't say that," he softly urged.

Ron shrugged, staring at the water. "It's the truth," he spat out.

"No it's not!" Harry said, getting worked up again. He rolled his eyes and, inwardly crossing his fingers, tried to wrap his arms around Ron's waist.

But Ron jerked back and looked at Harry defensively.

Harry frowned at him, then said: "Oh, okay, you take it that way?" and stepped out of the water without further ado, walking away.

Ron watched him, torn between shouting some nasty thing at Harry's retreating back, and calling him back. When Harry stopped in front of a tree and peered up its branches, though, Ron understood what Harry was actually planning and merely waited, longingly thinking of his swimsuit.

Harry carefully gripped a looming branch and started to climb up the tree, Ron's bright blue swimsuit quite easy to spot among all the green. Thankfully, the twins hadn't put it too high, and soon enough Harry's feet were on firm ground again. Harry walked back to the lake, carefully picking leaves away from the drenched fabric, wondering why the hell he was doing Ron that favour. At the same time, the idea of Ron having to climb that tree stark naked wasn't a very nice one, as Harry himself had managed to get nasty twigs poking at very inconvenient places on his way up.

He stopped at the edge of the lake, his toes caressed by the water, and looked straight at Ron, holding the swimsuit. "Want it back?" he shouted.

Ron seemed ready to say something, then closed his mouth and silently nodded.

Harry's lips stretched into a sly smile as he wadded into the water. He stopped in front of Ron, but when Ron stretched his hand to take the precious clothing back, Harry raised his arm behind his back, making sure it was out of reach.

"I want you to believe me when I say I'm sorry," Harry said before Ron could start shouting again, staring deep into his blue eyes; their colour seemed even deeper, surrounded as they were by such dark waters.

"Why should I believe you?" Ron spat.

"Because I'm your best friend!" Harry spat back, looking amazed at Ron's stupidity. "I know I acted as a jerk, and I swear, I'm not proud of it."

"Then why won't you give me my swimsuit back?!" Ron asked, turning away from Harry again; he was chewing on his lips, his cheeks still a faint red.

Harry looked at the path, then back at Ron's profile. "Because," he said with a wicked smile, stepping behind Ron's back; "It's quite sexy," he breathed against the nape of Ron's neck, before walking around in front of him again. Ron's eyes widened like mad as Harry gave a firm push at the bottom of the lake, then in one fluid motion wrapped his legs around Ron's waist, crossing his feet behind Ron's thighs.

"I don't have anything on..." Ron whispered after two seconds, like he had only just realized it.

Harry giggled: "I've noticed."

"And you're...you're pressed against me..."

"Yes, I think I am," Harry replied with the same little smile. He loosely wrapped his arms around Ron's shoulders, the swimsuit dandling from his hand, and pressed himself closer against Ron's chest.

Ron's eyes threatened to disappear behind his eyelids as he gasped, then almost squeaked. Then really squeaked as Harry languidly leaned back, his hair spreading around his head like seaweed, and let his body bob up and down with the flow, stroking Ron's middle in the process.

Ron let out a feeble moan, his hands shyly coming to rest on Harry's hips. Harry straightened up, his hair sending droplets of water everywhere, and leaned his forehead against Ron's, his lips wet and inviting. He waited two seconds, trying to gauge if Ron might push him away, then smiled softly and took Ron's bottom lip in his teeth, very gently nibbling on it. Ron's eyes closed all by themselves and soon enough he was kissing Harry back, his hands clenching around Harry's waist.

Harry's tongue was cool from the water he had accidentally drunk while swimming and his body was still moving up and down against Ron's middle and...

"More," Ron unconsciously moaned when Harry's divine mouth left his. He heard Harry chuckling, then those cool lips were making their way down Ron's jaw, and Harry whispered: "Later."

Ron could only hope that later would come soon.

Two seconds passed in silence, then Harry took a deep breath and finally got the words out, and they didn't sound bitter this time: "I'm sorry for everything I said," he murmured against Ron's neck, and he was quite glad to see that he actually meant it. "I didn't mean any of that..."

Ron vaguely recalled that he was supposed to be angry at Harry for something, although at the moment he couldn't, for the life of him, remember what that was, so he didn't say anything.

Harry finally stopped nibbling at Ron's shoulder and his legs slid away from Ron's waist, the tip of his feet making contact with the bottom of the lake again. He smiled and sneaked his hands behind his back, loosening Ron's grip on him, and hopped backward. "I think your mom must be waiting," Harry said, before swimming in backstrokes to the nearby shore, his eyes never leaving Ron's.

Now Ron knew exactly why he was angry with Harry, although he also reckoned the reason couldn't have been the same before the swimsuit incident. "You can't..." he murmured pleadingly, his body still painfully aroused, "You just can't..."

"Oh, god, you're right!" Harry said, suddenly looking surprised. He stepped out of the water and threw the swimsuit back at Ron, laughing. Ron was too dazed to catch it and it landed with a wet smack on his head, sending Harry into hysterics.

"Harry, Ron, what the devil are you two doing?!" shouted Mrs Weasley's voice from a distance. "Lunch is getting cold!!"

Ron knew better than to aggravate his mother's temper and, with some difficulty, wriggled back into his swimsuit before coming out of the (thankfully quite cold) water, glaring at Harry's innocent smile. Harry pecked him on the cheek as Ron passed him by, then hurried back to the kitchen, ignoring Ron's whispered insults.

*~*~*

Harry and Ron were both sitting on Ron's bed, all sorts of paper wrappings surrounding the mattress and the floor around them. They had celebrated Ron's new position by stacking up on sweets in one of Diagon Alley's shops, not as big as Honeydukes, but still big enough for Harry to spend all the money he had just taken out of his vault (with the help of another stop at Fortescue's for an ice-cream or two, and of course his school-supplies).

Admittedly, the tension between them hadn't dissipated magically after the lake episode, especially since Harry's teasing had looked a bit like "Vengeance Teasing" in Ron's eyes. They didn't talk much over lunch, but once they were in Diagon Alley, Harry decided to fix things up. He couldn't see himself helping Ron choose his first new broom ever if they couldn't talk and laugh and argue about the best one to get. So as soon as Molly had disappeared into Flourish & Blotts, Ginny had spotted a friend and run up to her, and the twins had, no doubt, run to Gambol & Japes to check on the new releases, Harry gripped Ron's hand and pushed him into a deserted alleyway, then against a brick wall, and before Ron could even begin to understand what was happening Harry was thoroughly kissing him, cradling Ron's head in his hands and pressing his body against him.

Ron had gasped at first, and of course Harry had jumped on the occasion to deepen the kiss further. It had all been bliss until Harry had reluctantly stopped and stepped away, mumbling something about being in a public place. To his relief, Ron had grinned stupidly for five minutes afterwards. Things went quite well from then on, one might say.

Pig suddenly came fluttering through the open door of Ron's bedroom, twitting madly at the view of so many shiny papers. He dived into one of the small heaps, bouncing straight back up because the mattress was underneath; a bright pink toffee wrapping was stuck in front of one of his eyes and he started turning round and round, trying to get rid of it.

"Hey, I knew something was missing!!!" Harry exclaimed with much too much enthusiasm, getting himself a curious glance from Ron, who managed to get a hold of Pig after two tiring minutes and took the paper off the little owl's eye. Pig continued twitting and flying round, obviously intent on diving again very soon.

"Where was he?" Harry asked, chewing on a Licorice wand, when Ron sat back down beside him.

"Ginny used him to write to a friend, 'came back this morning. Can't say I've missed him," Ron said with a shrug, but his smile when Pig finally plunged head first onto the mattress was betraying his words, as usual. Pig's head popped up amongst the pile of papers and he hooted happily. Ron bit back a chuckle and scooped the minute owl up in his hands: "Okay, I think it's time to go back to your cage, midget."

Harry barked with laughter at that, raising his bent legs in the air and shaking his feet. Ron stuffed Pig in the cage, then turned to his best friend, looking frankly worried.

"...Harry?"

"Yup?" Harry asked, batting his eyelashes.

Ron opened his mouth, then closed it. Harry was unwrapping what looked like his fiftieth chocolate frog in two hours, squirming on the bed. Ah. He knew all too well the effects an overload of sugar could have on people. The summer before he went to Hogwarts for the first time, Ron's father had taken him to the Ministry, to show him his office (which was much bigger than it was now, with a window - Ron had come back all proud of his father and declaring that he wanted to do the same thing when he grew up) (of course, the next week he had suddenly decided that drum-player was a much better idea, and with so much future!), and on the way they had stopped at a Muggle sweet-shop, where Ron had been offered the treat of his life...and gotten completely drunk on sugar once back home, devouring more sweets in one day than he usually ate in three months.

Watching Harry grinning at him, chocolate smeared all around his mouth, Ron deduced that his friend had just the same reaction to sugar than he had.

Shaking his head, Ron walked to the bed and lied down on it, on his back, his feet still resting on the floor. Harry's head loomed over him (he was now sucking a sugar quill with rapt attention); he stared at Ron for a few seconds, then squinted, giggled and leaned against the wall.

Ron chuckled, blindly fumbling for a chocolate frog, and he was frankly amazed to actually find one. "Harry, I think y--"

"We should do something!" Harry suddenly exclaimed, looking around the room. But he didn't move from the bed; instead, he looked down at Ron again, and leaned in to kiss him sweetly (in every sense of the term). "Where's your new broom?!" he exclaimed two minutes later, bouncing slightly on the bed. "We should go flying!!"

Ron sat back up, grimacing. "Uh, Harry, in your state I don't think flying would be anywhere near reasonable, really."

Harry turned angry eyes at him, pouting. "But I want to fly!!" he said, crossing his arms on his chest.

Ron chuckled: "Sorry mate, no way."

Harry waved his arms around: "But I want to--AOUCH!!!"

His thumb had just collided quite violently with the white of his right eye. Harry curled up on the bed and put both his hands in front of his eye, wincing. "That hurts..." he moaned, fighting a little when Ron anxiously tried to pry his hands open.

"Let me see," Ron said, tugging harder on Harry's arms. Harry finally let his hands fall down at his side, his right eye closed. He was pouting more than ever now. "Open your eye," Ron gently ordered.

Harry seemed to hesitate, then fearfully opened it, biting on his bottom lip. Ron smiled when he saw that his eye was merely redder than usual. "It's nothing," he said happily, then in front of Harry's glare he quickly added: "But I understand it hurts." He jumped off the bed and went to the bathroom, coming back with a soaked bath cloth. "Here," he said, sitting back on the bed. Harry was still curled up in a sitting ball, his side pressed against the wall. "Put that on your eye."

Harry took the cloth and carefully pressed it against his closed eyelid, still pouting. "This is so not funny," he mumbled. "Stupid thumb."

Ron laughed, then wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pressed him against his own chest, before kissing Harry's forehead. Still pouting, although he already couldn't really remember why, Harry slipped his legs on either side of Ron, tilting his head up for a kiss.

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, bouncing up and down in his cage. Obviously, Harry's high was pleasing him greatly. It wasn't pleasing Ron too much though, and he quickly, albeit reluctantly, untangled himself away from Harry, striding to Pig's cage and sending the owl outside. "Go, c'mon, go...go torment Ginny!" Ron urged him, trying to prevent Pig from zooming right back into his bedroom.

Harry giggled.

Ron turned back to him, slamming the door shut, and grinned: "Okay, now let's take care of you," he said, striding back to the bed. Harry pretended to be scared, cowering against the wall, then seemed to forget about Ron and reached down in search of another sweet. He could only find empty wrappings (which he swept to the floor with a flourish), and let out a frustrated groan that sounded very much like a puppy's growl, if you asked Ron.

"You ate all the sweets!!" Harry accused, looking up at Ron with a scowl.

"Wha...well you've got some nerves, mister!" Ron said, frowning; he jumped on the bed and pinned Harry down to the mattress: "I think you've had enough sugar for today, lil' boy."

Harry made a face, wrinkling his nose: "Why do you talk to me as if I was a six-year-old?" he whined, trying to get his wrists free from Ron's grasp.

"Mm...because you act like a six-year-old?" Ron answered, cocking one eyebrow and leaning down.

Harry was kissing Ron with as much enthusiasm as he had shown for the candy-eating or the mad giggling, and Ron was enjoying that side effect much more than the others. Harry's hands quickly buried themselves in Ron's hair and he moaned into the kiss, egging Ron on. Then, just as things were getting really good, he wrenched his mouth away from Ron's.

"People your age don't kiss six-year-old kids, y'know," he said, grinning. His eyes went round and he added: "You're a pedo!!" Then he giggled.

Ron looked worried, then downright repulsed: "I'd rather you don't put that in my head, thanks."

"Although, I'm not really a six-year-old, y'know," Harry said comfortingly, stroking Ron's cheek.

Ron chuckled unbelievingly, then sat back up, freeing Harry from under him, and leaned his back against the wall. He could just tell he wouldn't get a real good snog out of the boy right then.

Harry sat up as well, yawning. He giggled stupidly, yet again, then sobered up in a flash: "I feel weird," he said.

Ron stifled a laugh. "You wouldn't say..." he said, smiling mischievously.

But Harry didn't heed Ron, instead pushing him on his back and straddling him, sitting on Ron's stomach.

"What are you..." Ron started, but Harry shushed him up, turning his torso around and reaching for the bed sheet, which was crumpled at the bottom of the bed. He managed to catch it with the tip of his fingers and pulled it over both of them with a little shout of victory, before very carefully tucking its hem under Ron's pillow, sticking out his tongue in concentration.

Ron was looking up at him, baffled; he asked again: "What are you doing?"

Harry didn't answer right away, checking that Ron's head was heavy enough to keep the sheet trapped under Ron's pillow. Now it felt exactly as if they were under a tent, a very small one, with Harry playing the picket.

"We're going to play explorers," Harry simply answered. "We still haven't done that."

Ron chuckled. "And what are we going to explore?"

At this, the corner of Harry's lips curled up, and Harry scooted down Ron's body, so that he was now sitting on a far more sensitive place. Ron gasped, and Harry leaned down, his nose almost bumping against Ron's one: "I'm going to explore you."

Harry started to methodically unbutton Ron's shirt, making sure to squirm completely unnecessarily against Ron's middle every now and then, delighting in the way Ron was gaping up at him, speechless.

"One button!" Harry exclaimed, letting his fingertips tease the small stretch of skin uncovered. Ron shivered under him, the mere thought of what could happen next (his brain was in total overload of ideas, all getting steadily dirtier) making him dizzy.

"Two buttons!" Harry's fingers traced little waves down Ron's skin, then he bent down and kissed it softly. Ron smiled dreamily, his own hands creeping around Harry's wait. But Harry slapped them away, tutting.

"Three buttons!" he exclaimed almost immediately after. He smiled down at Ron, winking, his fingers already playing with the fourth button. He squirmed against Ron once more, feeling a definite hardness under him. Ron sighed, but then Harry suddenly decided that the game wasn't that funny anymore, and scooted further down, now sitting on Ron's thighs, yawning loudly.

Ron waited a few seconds, looking hopeful, then reality dawned on him, leaving him utterly unsatisfied. "Harry," he pleaded, but the delighted look on Harry's face crushed his hopes to the ground.

"You're too horny for your own good, Ron," Harry said, before blushing at what he had just said (but not half as bad as Ron), chuckling behind his hand.

Ron wanted to be pissed, but in the end, he had to admit that a giggling Harry managed to make his stomach feel just as warm (almost) as a lascivious panther-like Harry. Almost.

"D'you like me on sugar high?" Harry asked, right on time, impersonating remarkably well the coyness of a teenage girl.

Ron laughed: "Very much."

Harry frowned and straightened up: "That means you don't like me when I'm not?!" He was obviously serious, and also trying to look menacing, but the effect was rather cut off by the childish way his fists were resting against his hips and the bed sheet was still curving over his head.

Ron bit back a chuckle, fleetingly wondering if he had been that bad himself the Muggle-Sweets Day. "I like you all the time..." he finally whispered, trying to bring Harry down so he could kiss him. "I've always liked you..."

"Not tru-u-ue!" Harry singsonged loudly, pushing Ron away with a little victorious smile. "What about last year?" he asked. But before Ron could even fathom what Harry was talking about, he was babbling again, barely stopping every now and then to take in a huge breath: "When I was feeling so bad and I you know what I thought, when my name came out and I had to get up and walk there and hear them saying that it was a shame I was named and that it was too dangerous but oh well let's let him participate, after all it's Harry Potter and even though it's quite clear there's been some cheating of sorts we don't care, well I was thinking that at least when I get out of there I'd see you, and you'd believe me and console me and hug me okay maybe not hug me but noooo you wouldn't even talk to me anymore!! Like I would have ever done such a thing to you, such a stupid thing at that!! Like you didn't know me well enough to realize that!! And then Hermione tells me that you're jealous or something, because I'm always Harry Potter and shit always happens to me and you want that too, and that I should understand."

Harry stopped as suddenly as he had begun, panting and pouting slightly. Ron gulped down, the familiar feeling of shame surfacing back. Seeing as Harry didn't seem intent on speaking again any time soon, Ron finally asked: "What did you answer?"

"I don't know. I think I was rude to her..."

"I was stupid. I know."

"Yeah you were," Harry said, suddenly hopping back on the 100-word Train. "I felt like shit during those weeks, d'you know? I felt like nothing was right in my world anymore, I felt like you should have been there to help me with the first task, whatever it would turn out to be, you should have been there to complain with me about my name popping out and saying that still, you knew I could do it. Every time I saw you I wanted to come over and talk to you but you were so stubborn and you were in your wrong so...And I hate being on sugar high because I had promised myself I'd never, never tell you all of this, because I knew it'd hurt you and anyway when you came after the dragon, I was just so happy, it was the happiest day of all my life that second when I saw you come in and you started to talk and everything was back to how it should always be, and I wanted to cry a little because having you back made me realize even more how I had missed you, but of course I didn't, I wasn't so girly back then, and I didn't let you apologize because I had been stupid too and anyway I was afraid maybe we'd fight again if we talked about it again, and I had sworn, sworn I'd never talk to you about it, and I'm so sorry I have, I didn't want to, I didn't want to." With that, Harry pouted and settled back down against Ron's chest, hiding his face against the curve of Ron's neck.

This had been a lot of information in a very short time, and Ron took a moment to take it all in, feeling a little dizzy himself.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, reaching up to skim over Harry's cheek with his fingers. "I've been a real prat, and don't think I didn't realize it, because I did. I'd see you every day and I'd think I should apologize, because it soon became quite obvious you hadn't put your name into that stupid goblet, but then you'd glare at me or ignore me and I'd start getting angry again, plus I had never had to make amends to anybody before, and that...that wasn't easy," he whispered, almost as fast as Harry had talked.

Harry seemed to calm down all of a sudden and looked up at Ron, his eyes turning a bit sad. Then he leaned down again and rested his head on Ron's shoulder, staring at Ron's neck.

"Oh and I'm also sorry for what...for what we said to you when you saved us all from the lake," Ron added, glad that he couldn't see Harry's face. That piece of information had taken a much longer time to sink into Ron's brain. He had only realized over the summer how unfair him and Hermione had been, scolding Harry for taking the Second Task too seriously, when Harry had been doing nothing short of ensuring they were alive and safe. At the time, it had seemed like the stupidest thing to Ron, believing that Dumbledore would ever let anything happen to students, but gradually Ron had realized that he would have probably done the same; he certainly wouldn't have let Hermione under the water, and if he had had a crush on Cho, he wouldn't have left her there either. And Harry...well, needless to say, he'd have done anything to get Harry back above the water, not caring about any stupid timing or such.

"It's okay."

Harry's muffled voice startled him, then he sighed with relief.

"Although I still think I was right and you were wrong," Harry added, and Ron could almost picture his mischievous smile.

"I know you were," he said softly, caressing Harry's hair. They fell back into their own thoughts for a while, the silence only broken by the occasional soft "bump!" against Ron's door. Pigwidgeon had obviously decided he liked it better in the room, and Ron bit back a laugh, thinking of that small flying ball of feathers bouncing against the door again and again.

"I'm sorry," Harry suddenly whispered against Ron's skin, closing his eyes shut and breathing his scent in. "I'm sorry for making you shout," he said, moving a bit so that his cheek was pressed against Ron's, both his hands playing with Ron's hair. "I'm sorry for saying that you hadn't done anything, I'm sorry for claiming I deserve that badge more than you, because it's so not true," he added fiercely, before kissing Ron's cheek so hard Ron actually winced. "I'm sorry."

Then he finally looked down into Ron's eyes, sighing nervously.

"Y'know, I'm sor--" Ron started, but Harry's lips prevented him from going further.

"You don't have to be sorry about anything you said this morning," Harry said firmly against Ron's lips. Ron opened his mouth again, but Harry's severe look was enough to shut him up. Harry felt foolish and ashamed of himself enough as it was, without being apologized to for no reason. "You've only said the truth," he added, shrugging.

Ron seemed to doubt that statement, but Harry was kissing him again already, which didn't let much room for his brain to think.

"So you forgive me?" Harry asked after a while of tender kissing, smiling slightly.

Ron chuckled: "I thought I had made that obvious," he said, before reaching up to capture Harry's lips with his. When he wrapped his arms around Harry's back, he felt Harry's body trembling against his; it felt weird, but Ron wasn't sure if it was from the tension leaving Harry or falling on him again.

However, Harry soon rested his forehead against Ron's shoulder, his breathing coming in soft puffs against the skin, and soon enough Ron could feel his torso quietly heave up and down under his hands, exactly like when he was...

"...Harry?"

*~*~*

Harry woke up to very, very soft kisses, gentle lips pressed against the corner of his mouth, caressing his lips. He relished it for some time, pretending to be asleep, at first not even sure he wasn't just dreaming. Then after a while temptation became too strong, and Harry half-opened his eyes. The first thing they met were Ron's freckles; then Ron's lips, smiling inches away from his face; and finally Ron's eyes, gazing tenderly into his own.

"Hey..."

"Hey."

"What time is it?" Harry asked, yawning slightly.

"Half past eight. In the evening."

"What?! ...you're kidding me, right?" Harry straightened up a bit to look sideways at the clock on Ron's bedside table, then, as if he didn't believe the device either, turned to look at the window. Outside, the sky was turning a deeper shade of blue, the moon already getting bright, and the sun nowhere to be seen. "Hell, it is night! ...why didn't you wake me up?"

"I like watching you sleep," Ron answered simply, shrugging. "...plus, I did try, but you wouldn't move! ...I brought you some food," he suddenly added, nodding towards a plate laden with food, lying on the floor at Ron's feet. Ron himself was crouching, his arms folded on the wooden side of the bed.

Harry beamed, and his stomach seemed to be more than tempted by the offer, rumbling loudly. "Thanks," Harry said, bending down to look at the plate. "...I could actually eat something...got bad taste in my mouth..."

"Chocolate frog?"

Harry looked back up at Ron, smirking somewhat menacingly: "...something salty would be more appreciated, thanks."

Ron reached down and handed a bacon and chicken sandwich to Harry, who lost no time in sitting up and biting into it. Ron watched Harry eat for some time, before shyly asking: "Is it good?"

"'elichous!" Harry said around a mouthful, clearly hoping there would be more of those.

Ron beamed, then after a slight hesitation, said: "I made them myself."

"Really?"

"Yes," Ron said, looking rather smug. "But Harry, you really shouldn't talk with your mouth full. It's not very...sexy."

Harry almost choked on his sandwich and quickly gulped down, blushing. "Sorry," he mumbled, blushing more when Ron laughed. Harry opened his mouth, ready to chew on the last of his pray, then suddenly turned to Ron again, one eyebrow raised: "What did your mother say about it?"

"Me cooking?"

"Yup," Harry said, nodding.

Ron grinned: "I think she thought I'd gone mad. Or maybe that I was intending to slip something in your food..." He blushed slightly, then added: "Hopefully she won't have thought it was rather..."

"Cute?" Harry asked, before finally pushing the rather large remains of his sandwich into his open mouth.

"Yup," Ron said, biting back a smile.

Harry realized he had been a little too greedy and covered his mouth with a blush, trying to chew the whole thing down without spilling it everywhere. Ron's maniac laugh wasn't making things easier, but Harry finally managed, and immediately reached down for a second helping. He did his best to eat that one much more politely, and only stopped when Ron had been staring at him for at least three minutes.

"What are you looking at?"

"I was wondering if you still had sugar in your veins..." Ron sneakily said, smiling a little.

Harry chuckled: "I probably still have sugar up to my brain! ...remind me never to do that again, 'kay?"

"Promise. Although you're pretty cute when you're hyper..."

Harry and Ron grinned at each other, then Harry took another bite of his sandwich, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I hope I didn't say anything too horrible..." he finally murmured, not looking into Ron's eyes.

"You mean you don't remember?!" Ron asked in a panicked voice.

Harry smiled; "No, I do. But I was speaking so fast all the time, I may have said some stupid stuff without thinking about it. ...I'm sorry I talked about last year."

"I'm glad you talked about it," Ron immediately said, quite to Harry's surprise. Ron blushed and added: "I had never gotten the chance to apologize..."

"There was no need to apologize," Harry said firmly; "I'd been a jerk too. I could have tried to talk to you calmly, instead of glaring at you every single time we crossed paths!"

Ron opened his mouth, but Harry shushed him up. At the time, right after the first task, he hadn't felt the need to hear apologies from his best friend, so one year later... "It's really no use talking about it again," he added. "But well..." he said, scratching the back of his head, "I guess it's not bad that I finally got everything out..."

Ron nodded silently and Harry grinned at him. Then finally spotted Ron's brand new broom, propelled against a wall.

"Hey, you managed to sneak it up?" he asked, still grinning. When they had come back from Diagon Alley, Ron had pleaded with Mrs Weasley to let him take the broom upstairs, but she had been inflexible, saying that he would unwrap it that evening, during the pa... "Oh god, the party!!" Harry exclaimed, casting an anxious look at Ron.

But Ron smiled: "Mom decided to do it tomorrow in the end, since you were asleep and all."

This didn't make Harry feel better at all, but Ron added: "Plus, it's better, coz Percy couldn't come tonight, and dad might be on duty after all."

"On duty?"

"Yeah, y'know, whatever it is The Order's doing..."

When Harry had come back at the Burrow, Arthur Weasley had talked a bit about the Order and everything, but had refused to give any detail about what exactly they were worried Voldemort might be doing. Obviously, the fact that Molly was glaring at the back of Arthur's neck the whole time hadn't made him very talkative.

Harry was feeling slightly frustrated, especially since he knew that his godfather was involved in it all, and it had been a long time since they had last seen each other, but at the same time, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know more. He had enough nightmares as it was.

"...will everybody come?" he suddenly asked, looking hopeful.

Ron looked at him for a second, then smiled: "Y'mean Sirius?"

Harry nodded.

"Yup, at least mom told him about the party."

Harry beamed, then suddenly remembered he was quite hungry and rummaged for another sandwich. Ron grabbed his broom and did the conversation for two while Harry was finishing his meal. They had already said pretty much everything that could be said about Ron's new Cleansweep, but Harry would rather do a Potions essay than spoil Ron's happiness.

*~*~*

Harry closed his book, put it on the floor, took his glasses off, blew the candle, and, at last, turned to Ron, smiling sweetly. "There! I'm all yours."

"About time," Ron mumbled under his breath, beaming innocently at Harry less than a second later, before bending down to kiss him.

There were all sorts of kisses, from the slow and languorous to the deep and frantic to the fluttery and friendly, all of them surrounded by caressing hands and meeting bodies. They both had been waiting all day for this, and were intending to enjoy it fully, even more so that their fight had made them feel like they might never kiss again. Harry half-climbed on Ron, trying to erase all the nasty things he had said to him through his kisses. Let's say...for each moan he makes, one stupidity's forgiven... But then, he thought maybe words would still do the job better: "I'm really proud of you y'know," he whispered; "For being made a prefect," he specified, although Ron didn't need it.

Ron beamed, hearing the words from Harry's mouth more important to him than any of his mother's squeals. It had really hurt that morning, to see that Harry wasn't considering Ron worth of the honour.

"You really deserved it." Harry looked thoughtful, then added: "You deserved it for sneaking out of the tower after sleeping hours, and for always trying to get Hermione to do your homework, and for eating like a pig!" At which he burst out laughing.

Ron groaned and launched himself down on his best friend, biting on Harry's neck. Harry wriggled under him and laughed more, which only pushed Ron to bite harder, although he was trying not to leave real marks. Then Harry stopped struggling and said with a light voice: "Y'know, it's not that bad, actually."

Ron's bright laugh exploded in Harry's ear and soon he was lapping at Harry's skin, soothing it, while Harry hummed softly in contentment.

Ron moved to lie on Harry's left side, their legs entwining automatically. Ron's expression changed from quietly happy to thoughtful, and he rested his head on Harry's shoulder before softly asking: "Why d'you think they gave it to me?"

"The badge?"

He felt Ron nodding.

"Out of the two of us," Ron continued, "I would have thought...why didn't they give it to you?" he finally asked. He didn't intend to make Harry mad again, but the question escaped his lips before he could think about a better way to formulate it.

The Weasel's got a point, you know. Why didn't you get it? You should have gotten it, after all. You've done so much more than him! Why didn't Dumbledore reward you for it?! The Wea--Oh just SHUT UP, will you?! Harry inwardly screamed, wishing he could punch his subconscious. Don't you think you've done enough damage this morning?! And it's not...it's not about that.

"I don't know...I...I guess...well, I do keep breaking school rules and all," he said with a little smile. "And I'm not exactly a top-grades student, and...and I...I don't know."

"But...I do keep breaking rules, too. And I'm not an awesomely good student either, I'm rather worse than you," Ron said, twirling the lapel of Harry's shirt in his fingers, staring at Harry's neck. "Why did they choose me and not you? You fought...You-Know-Who...it's...an accomplishment, isn't it?" he added with a soft chuckle.

Harry softly kissed Ron's forehead, his fingers playing with Ron's hair. "Well...I guess you don't get named prefect for fighting a lot of frankly ugly things!" he said. "It's not exactly part of the school's curriculum, is it?" Harry tried to joke, but if anything, Ron was egging his inner voice on.

"Oh I don't know...Yeah but...let's, okay, let's put you away, because I think I'll never understand why they didn't make you a prefect."

"Ron don't be stupid--"

But Ron kept on talking: "No but, well let's just say...I mean well okay not maybe Neville," he said with a little smile, "but Sea--okay, maybe not Seamus..."

Harry chuckled.

"But...Dean! Why didn't they make Dean?" Ron said, looking victorious. "I mean he never gets into trouble, he's a good student, and he's nice and well-behaved and doesn't jump at people's throats like I do!"

Harry laughed against Ron's shoulder. "Well yeah y'know I think they should have made Dean a prefect! He seems to fit the role much better than we do! ...maybe they made you prefect just so that Hermione wouldn't be alone," he added, laughing more.

"Harry that's not funny!" Ron scolded, but he was smiling too.

"Look Ron," Harry said, his tone serious. "I don't think they make people prefects just to flatter them, or...or because they like them. I think you were made prefect for a reason! And okay we can't seem to find any of those reasons right now," he added lightly, smiling again, "but it's only coz it's hard comparing anybody to Hermione."

Ron nodded, feeling a bit better. It was true that Hermione just hindered comparison, as soon as it came to school achievement.

"Of course, I would have made you a prefect because you're so cool, but somehow I really don't think that's why Dumbledore chose you!" Harry said, giggling when Ron tried to tickle him.

He nuzzled his face against Harry's neck, quite content with Harry's theories, even though they still hadn't solved the great mystery. But in the end, it didn't matter much. Ron felt completely elated just knowing he had something that had made Dumbledore pick him, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to know what that thing was. Maybe the Headmaster had just seen something in Ron, some dispositions that he would get the occasion to show during the year?

Moreover, Harry, strictly school speaking, hadn't done anything more than Ron (okay, Ron relented, he's a natural in DADA, but well...). That was quite nice to remind oneself.

"So you're not jealous are you?" Ron finally asked, wincing.

"Well...I'm a bit jealous, I admit," Harry said fairly. "But it's okay. Plus, you'll never take points from me, right?" he added, brightening up. "You can't, coz I'm your friend! I'm your boyfriend!!"

Ron straightened up and glared down at Harry, trying to look stern. "Oh, but I will! I'm a prefect know, I'll be ruthless! I'll turn into Percy and polish my shoes and my badge every night, and we won't, won't snog at school because I've got my schoolwork to think about if I want to be made Head Boy one day!"

"Yeah, sure, turn into Percy and you'll never get to kiss me again, that's for sure," Harry mumbled, smirking.

As if to prove Harry the opposite, Ron kissed him long and deep, and sure enough, Harry wasn't up to stop him.

"I still think you deserved it," Harry said after a blissful sigh, staring into Ron's blue eyes.

Ron blushed with pleasure, before leaning back against Harry's chest. It had been a pretty good day, after all.

Time seemed to slow down, Ron lulled to sleep by Harry's soft caresses on his hair and cheek, and before they could think about doing anything else, they were both asleep.

*~*~*

Ron was idly staring at the trembling strips of light on his ceiling, blue moon shining through closed stores, unable to find sleep. He felt like he hadn't slept at all yet, but he suspected he might have dreamt that he wasn't asleep, because having insomnia was something that had almost never happened to him before.

He felt Harry moving against him and grinned, loving the way he had obviously decided that Ron's chest was as good as any other pillow, or the fact that his legs were curled up, propelled against Ron's left leg. Harry moved again, then suddenly his hand gripped Ron's shirt, his fingers digging through the fabric right into Ron's skin, and Ron yelped.

"Harry!!"

But Harry didn't answer for the simple reason that he was still very much asleep. Ron turned his head to the side and was only mildly surprised to see that Harry's face was scrunched up in concentration...or pain, he couldn't have said. He sighed sadly and slowly managed to turn on his side. Harry was starting to move more and more, his legs curling and uncurling, feet digging into the mattress, his fist still clenched around Ron's shirt.

"Harry..." Ron whispered, wishing that Harry could wake up as simply as the previous time.

But Harry started moaning in his sleep, his breathing getting heavier: "Don't...go...just let me..." He suddenly let out a low wail that made Ron's hair stand on end. "Don't...him...Cedric!!"

Ron gulped down and softly reached out, stroking Harry's face with trembling fingers. "Harry? Harry, please wake up," he whispered politely, as if politeness would work better than rude shouting.

Harry ignored him, and sent his knee colliding with some very sensitive part of Ron's anatomy.

Ron blanched, his mouth opening in a silent cry, then scooted away from Harry, curling up slightly. Thankfully, the blow hadn't been violent, but still strong enough to make Ron feel a little less sympathetic than two seconds before. "Harry," he said loudly, shaking Harry's shoulder. "Wake up."

Harry let out a lament like a dying dog's, gripped his own arm so hard Ron could see the small nails breaking through the flesh, then gave a violent jerk and fell on the floor with a loud "bump!".

Ron gasped, then crawled to peer over the edge of the bed. Harry was looking up at the ceiling, eyes wide open, quite confused. His eyes turned to Ron's, Harry blinked a few times, then winced and smiled, painfully sitting up.

"I swear I didn't push you," Ron said, raising his hands defensively and chuckling with relief.

Harry rubbed the back of his head. "Mm, I'm not sure I believe you," he said, wincing again. He crossed his legs on the wooden floor and leaned his head against the mattress, sighing. He smiled when Ron's fingers tangled in his hair, caressing his head soothingly.

"...I'm thirsty," he said after a while, more to himself than to Ron. To his surprise, Ron immediately climbed out of bed and trotted out of the room; he came back with a glass of fresh water two seconds later and sat himself down beside Harry, both of their backs leaning against the bed frame.

"Thanks," Harry said with an embarrassed smile, taking the glass from Ron. He made sure to keep his fingers on Ron's a second more than necessary, liking to see Ron's lips curling up slightly. Weird how fingers could be so sensitive.

He downed his glass in one go, then stared at it with a frustrated look. He made to stand up, but Ron put a hand on his forearm: "Wait."

Harry waited, he didn't really know what for, and then he realized the glass was filling itself again. He turned to Ron, grinning, and Ron shrugged: "Enchanted glass. Way mom found to stop having to get up in the middle of the night every time one of us was crying that he was thirsty. Never took the charm off."

Harry laughed and gratefully brought the glass back to his lips, emptying it again. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and put the glass on the floor next to him, suddenly looking upset. "If I do the same nightmare over and over again," he said, before Ron could even consider asking him about it; "why...why do I never remember that it's a dream when I'm having it?! Why does it feel so real every time?" Harry sighed, frustrated. "And sometimes, stupid stuff happens in the middle of it all, but still, I'm dead sure it's all happening for real. Like..." To Ron's surprise, Harry smiled and even giggled. "Like tonight...you were in it..."

"And that's what was so stupid?" Ron pouted, but he liked seeing Harry's eyes twinkling maliciously.

"No, you git, but...well...see, you came down on that big flying motorbike, and you said your father had bought it to replace your broken wand, and then you asked me if I had seen "Snapy" because he had stolen your badge, and just when I was about to climb behind you, well then you looked frightened and said we were going to be late for tutu practice and..." Harry's laugh died in his throat when he came to that part; "Well then it went back to the classic dream, when I turn around and there's Voldemort there and I can't escape and he's laughing...although I think he was laughing even harder tonight because you were hopping behind me, trying to put your pink tutu on..."

Ron chuckled: "I think we definitely know where that came from..." he whispered, thinking back to Harry's overload of sugar. He gently kissed Harry on his forehead, still stroking his hair.

"You know," Harry said after a short silence, his voice steadier; "It's weird coz...I always dream of the moment where I ran back to the cup, but...never of what happened before..."

Ron held his breath; Harry had never really talked about what had happened that day, never in details. Ron knew the little Dumbledore had said in the hospital wing and at the end-of-year feast, and Harry had told him and Hermione a few other things on the ride back to London, but he had focused on what happened in the maze and Cedric's death. He had mentioned something about him and Voldemort duelling and his parents coming out of Voldemort's wand, but every time he had shown reluctance and discomfort and Ron and Hermione had never pushed him to talk about it further.

"I mean...I thought I'd keep having dreams about my parents, and...not once. Why do I keep dreaming that I can't escape? I didn't even care about escaping...not really," he added in a whisper. "I wanted...I wanted to stay there and be with my parents..."

He fell silent, his hand slowly gripping Ron's shirt. He bent his legs across Ron's and leaned against his chest. His untidy hair was tickling Ron's neck, but Ron didn't care. Right now the only thing he cared about was what Harry had just said. It took a few seconds to reach his brain, but as soon as it became crystal clear he unconsciously hugged Harry close to him.

"D'you..." He cleared his throat, then tried again: "D'you still want that?"

Harry's head slowly turned upwards, and Ron was inwardly crossing his fingers. He didn't know what he would do if Harry told him that he still wished he had stayed with his dead parents. But Harry smiled softly, and said: "Nope," before resting his head back against Ron's shoulder.

And yet, Ron soon felt Harry's chest imperceptibly shaking and he knew Harry was, if not crying, trying hard not to. He wondered what he should do, and he also wanted to be sure of why exactly Harry was crying, but in the end he supposed hugging him was really the best he could do.

"Harry?" he whispered.

"What?" Harry croaked. Hypothesis number two, then.

"You can cry. I won't tell."

Harry chuckled feebly, but it seemed that little display of emotion unleashed the pent-up fear, and less than five seconds later he was quietly sobbing. Ron kissed Harry's forehead again, wrapping his arms more tightly around the shaking frame of his friend. They stayed that way for some time, Ron still sitting with his back against the bed frame, Harry almost curled up in his lap, crying as silently as he could manage. No matter what, he still felt stupid crying in front of Ron. Somehow, he'd have felt much more at ease crying in front of Hermione, but then he knew she wouldn't be able to comfort him like Ron did.

Ron let him cry. Unusual a sight as it still was for him, he still felt much more at ease facing a crying Harry than a shaking paranoid frightened Harry--At any rate, crying was a normal reaction, and maybe the outburst would relieve him of some of his anguish.

He cried for long, interminable minutes, and Ron kept him in his arms, caressing his hair and whispering words of comfort. At least, he hoped they were comforting. Twice he asked Harry if he wanted him to go fetch his mother, but each time Harry shook his head vehemently.

Finally, Harry calmed down, and soon he was breathing normally, absently playing with the buttons of Ron's shirt. "I thought...I thought I wouldn't have nightmares anymore, now that I have you," he whispered dejectedly.

Ron bit his lip, not knowing what to say to that. He had kind of hoped the nightmares would stop, as well, but he guessed he had been too proud. He felt Harry heaving a huge sigh, then there were warm lips pressed against his neck. Ron ruffled Harry's hair and tried to push him off his lap. "C'mon, let's go back in bed."

Harry diligently climbed back on the mattress and Ron lied beside him, looking down at him with kind eyes. Ron seemed to hesitate, then whispered: "I guess you don't really want to go back to sleep right now, right?"

Harry sighed and smiled despondently, then leaned up to kiss Ron, bringing him to lie on top of himself. There was urgency in his kiss, but still incredible tenderness. Ron leaned on his forearms and slipped his hands under Harry's shoulders, sinking blissfully into the kiss.

Less than one minute had passed when Ron suddenly felt Harry's fingers tugging at the buttons of his shirt.

"Please...want you...need you..." Harry mumbled between kisses, tugging frantically at Ron's shirt, trying to slip it down Ron's back but unable to since Ron's arms were still stretched on either side of Harry's chest. His hands fell back on roaming on Ron's upper body instead, his left one tracing invisible maps on his back, while his right one slipped down the front and tentatively pinched at Ron's nipple. Ron poured out a strangled moan in Harry's throat and kissed him harder, instinctively sliding his left hand down Harry's side and gripping his hip firmly, then pushing his own hips down to let Harry know exactly how much he was enjoying all of that. He blushed when he realized what he had done, but didn't stop kissing Harry for one second, and moaned again when he suddenly became conscious that the hardness he felt down there didn't only belong to him.

Harry wrenched his mouth away from Ron's, with some difficulty, and immediately drew a line of feverish kisses along Ron's jaw, down his neck and along his left shoulder. Ron felt him trying to scoot down and raised his hips again, reporting his weight on his shins and forearms. His eyes closed by themselves and his mouth fell open as Harry ravaged his skin.

Harry licked, nibbled and bit, eyes staring at Ron's slightly burned skin, his tongue relishing the soft and hot taste of it, a weird mix of salty sweat and sun-cream. It was really bizarre, that rush of desire and warmth and pure need that couldn't be denied and made Harry feel as frantic as when he woke up from his nightmares, but at the same time the smell of Ron and the taste of Ron and the feel of Ron's body weighing on his own made Harry feel good again, reminding his brain that it was indeed a good sort of frenzy this time.

Still, after Harry's greedy lips and tongue reached Ron's nipple and his hands cupped Ron's ass through his pants, after Harry heard Ron saying his name in a desperate moan, and looked up to see Ron's face flushed, his lips so inviting, his red hair like fire, and after Harry whispered "You're gorgeous", he suddenly felt afraid of his own libido. He stopped everything and scooted back up a few inches, coming face to face with Ron once more; his hands slid back up to Ron's waist, and he tried to calm down, gazing at Ron's features.

Ron was panting, and Harry felt a very nice tinge of pride thinking he was the one that could make him lose ground like that.

After a while Ron opened his eyes again. He had been praying for Harry to resume his delicious assaults, his whole body straining for his touch, but after two minutes his brain got control again, and told him to see what was happening. Harry's peaceful, sleepy, yet slightly flushed face caught him by surprise. "Harry?" he whispered; "Everythin' okay?"

"Yeah...yeah, it's okay," Harry replied after a few seconds. "It just..." Ron couldn't be sure in the blue light of the night, but he had the distinct impression that Harry was blushing. "It's just a bit too much, y'know what I mean?" Harry said with a tentative smile. "Could we...slow things down a bit?"

Ron was tempted to remark that Harry had been the one to rush things, but refrained himself, instead gently lowering his hips onto Harry's ones once again, rotating them slowly. "Like that?" he asked against Harry's cheek before kissing it softly.

Harry sighed: "Yeah...that...that's perfect."

Ron smiled and leaned down to kiss Harry, feeling waves of burning fire rushing through him every time their middles touched. He did his hardest to maintain a slow rhythm, willing his hormones not to peak up too fast, wanting to keep Harry too dazed to be sad. It seemed to work rather well, and when Ron gently took hold of Harry's bent knees and wrapped Harry's legs around his waist with quasi-deference, looking at Harry for approval, he quickly got it.

Harry's ankles instinctively crossed on Ron's thighs, his heels pressing down on Ron's buttocks, increasing the tantalizing friction, and Harry let out a soft moan, his small white teeth closing on his bottom lip. Ron's hands slithered down from Harry's knees to the back of his thighs to his ass, pressing him up to him, and his breathing got shallow and hot. He loved it slow and tender, he loved the feeling that they could possibly go on like that forever, trapped between sleep and pleasure, comfort and ecstasy, but suddenly he also wanted it fast, wanted to go over the edge and take Harry with him, because he would surely g--

Even through the soft moans and the rush of breath so close to each other's ears and the mind-blowing dance, they both heard the soft knocking at Ron's door. They froze mid-movement and looked at the door with fearful eyes, Harry's head tilted back on the pillow, his hands still tangled into Ron's hair, his legs still wrapped up around Ron's body, even though their middles weren't touching anymore.

The soft knocking sound was heard again, closely followed by a whisper: "Ron?" It was Ginny's voice. Ron and Harry looked at each other, frozen in horror; then Harry's mind seemed to take control, so used to having to react in extreme situations, and Harry awkwardly pushed Ron away from him, then tiptoed back to his bed, trying not to make the hinges cringe as he slumped on his back, hastily wrapping the folds of his shirt back around his torso and gathering the sheets over his hips.

"Ron?"

"G-Ginny?" Ron finally stammered, trying unsuccessfully to button back his shirt, sitting on his bed with his hair tousled and his lips swollen.

"Can I come in?"

Ron glanced at Harry, who nodded, then quickly shut his eyes and pretended to sleep.

The door didn't make any noise as it opened, but Harry heard the soft padding noise of Ginny slowly making her way to Ron's bed, then the rusty springs as she sat on it.

"I hope I didn't wake you up," Ginny whispered apologetically, and Harry could almost see her wrenching her fingers unconsciously.

"Nope, don't worry. Anyway, if I had been asleep, I sure as hell wouldn't have heard you whispering out there!" Ron whispered back, chuckling. Harry heard Ginny whisper that she hadn't wanted to wake him (Harry) up, then the cracking sound of a match being ignited.

He cautiously opened his eyes and turned his head a bit to the side, so he could see what was happening. It was all a bit blurry since he didn't have his glasses on, but he could still see fairly well. Ginny was shaking the match off, turning back to her brother. She seemed to do a double take, then smirked: "What were you doing?" she whispered.

Harry had to refrain himself from chuckling when Ron became all flushed, hastily doing back a few buttons of his shirt. Ginny seemed to be squinting at his lips, then her head tilted towards Ron's lap; Harry could have sworn she raised one eyebrow, but she didn't say anything. Apparently, living with six brothers had made her quite used to raging hormones.

"Nothing," Ron muttered, one pang of his shirt going up to above his navel while the other was covering half of his thigh, his hands carefully fisted over his lap.

Ginny giggled, then seemed to suddenly remember what had brought her to her brother's room in the middle of the night, for her expression saddened quickly. She pulled her legs up against her chest and rested her chin on her knees, sighing. Her hands were playing with the frayed bottom of her pyjama legs. Her fingers were really slender; Harry had never noticed it before.

"I've had The Dream again," she finally whispered, glancing sideways at her brother's face. Ron's cheeks turned back to their usual shade of pale pink and he carefully wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders, seemingly not knowing exactly what to say. And at the same time, it felt as if he didn't need to say anything. As if they had had that conversation so many times before that no word was needed anymore.

Harry watched them, immobile and silent, their fiery hair and freckles caressed by the feeble light of the candle, brother and sister, more intimate than Harry had ever seen them. Ron had always more or less ignored his little sister whenever Harry was around, and Harry had almost been surprised when Ron had been close to fainting upon discovering that Ginny had been kidnapped, in their second year. But back then, the notion of actually loving one's relative had still been very new to Harry, and he didn't know yet that your behaviour towards somebody didn't necessarily show the depth of your feelings for them. After all, his Aunt and Uncle's disdain and hate had always been very clearly demonstrated every day, and he had no doubt whatsoever that this was indeed the only feelings they had for him.

He had never seen them alone, either. Had never seen Ron gently resting his cheek against his little sister's hair like he was doing now, like at that instant she was the only thing he cared about.

Harry felt his heart swell with love and--envy, maybe? He wanted to take a picture of them, or to get up from his bed and go hug them both to death and beg them to be a part of this, a part of them. But then Ron smiled and straightened up, and whispered brightly:

"Hot milk and cookies?"

Harry could well picture the twinkle in Ginny's eyes as she looked up and nodded, leaving her forlorn face behind. Harry quickly closed his eyes as they both got up from the bed. He heard steps fading away, then carefully peaked between his eyelids and saw Ron standing at the door, turned towards Harry's bed, looking a bit worried. Harry opened his eyes fully and shook his head, smiling. "Go," he mouthed. Ron's lips stretched into a shy smile and he stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Now there was nothing but the candle and Harry. After a few minutes, he stood up and blew it off, suddenly angry at it because it wasn't illuminating anything anymore, just a stupid empty bed. He knew he was being childish, and he had meant it when he told Ron to go look after his sister, but now he was jealous because Ginny would be petted by him, when he, Harry, needed Ron so bad, needed Ron more than her, surely.

For Christ's sake, you're not five years old anymore, Potter! his subconscious tutted at him.

Oh, Malfoy, just shut up will you?

Harry stomped back to his bed and fell on it, surly. He didn't dare going into Ron's one, just in case Ginny would stop by a second time during the night. He curled up on his side, hugging his pillow, and stared moodily at Ron's empty bed, already wishing Ron was back, already feeling the emptiness and the dread slowly falling back upon him. The nightmare that their intense make-out session had driven out of his mind (Harry looked down at the shrinking tent in his pants, scowling--stupid...stupid tent!! he inwardly fumed) was washing back upon him, and there was nobody to make it go away again. And finally, he just had gotten used to sleeping with his best friend, and now suddenly the room seemed cold and foreign, and he felt almost as if he was in a stranger's house, and he felt small.