Translation of Light

Thanks as always to Halo of Darkness, my wonderful beta.

Chapter 5

---<@

Harry sat staring into the fire. He was wallowing. And he knew he was being totally unrealistic. It was going to take time - a lot of time - before Ron was completely comfortable with their relationship. Ron probably hadn't meant what he'd said to come out the way it had, but Harry couldn't shake the awful feeling that somehow Ron thought he had to offer himself to keep Harry happy. He didn't want him to feel that way. But sitting and moping about it wasn't helping anybody. Giving himself a mental shake, Harry glanced at his watch and decided that he might as well head over to the Manor. Draco wouldn't mind him arriving early.

The wards suddenly flared, warning him that someone had arrived by Portkey. Harry jumped up and shot out into the hall to see Ron standing there, looking pale and shaken.

"What's wrong? Is it the Burrow? Are you all right? Is anyone hurt? Fuck, Ron, what happened!"

"Everyone's fine. I need to talk to you," Ron said abruptly.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment as he felt his stomach plummet. This was it. Molly had said something, and Ron had decided that he was making a mistake. Well, he wasn't going to let him go without a fight. The fact that Ron had come straight to him had to mean something, right?

"Come and sit down," he said, leading Ron into the living room. As Harry sat down, a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses appeared on the coffee table in front of him. He sighed. As if things weren't bad enough, his control of his magic was getting shakier every day. He hadn't even thought about a drink, although he'd apparently wanted one. More than one, it seemed, seeing the size of the bottle he'd unconsciously conjured. He poured two drinks and offered one to Ron, who was still hovering nervously over him. Ron took the glass and emptied it in two swallows. "Sit down. Please," Harry repeated gently.

Ron exhaled heavily and dropped into the seat next to him.

"I was talking to Ginny and... I fucked up, didn't I? I didn't mean to. I'm not good with all this," Ron said with a vague gesture. "Talking about feelings and stuff, I mean. She was right. She didn't know she was, obviously, 'cause I couldn't really tell her. 'Cause I can't tell anyone. But I think that's what I was doing. I didn't mean it like that, though. I really didn't."

Harry blinked. Ron was obviously upset and agitated about something, but Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He opened his mouth to ask Ron to explain, but Ron started talking rapidly again before he could get a word out.

"I want you. You said you needed to know that. And I do. Christ, you've got no idea how much. But it's hard enough, wanting you like that, without having to... 'Cause every time I think I can do it, I get these thoughts in my head. And they won't go away and it fucking terrifies me. Every sick joke about shirt-lifters and wand-gobblers and perverts and not dropping the soap in the showers is right there and I can't. I just can't."

"It's okay, it's okay," Harry said quickly as he slipped an arm around Ron and pulled him into a hug. Ron gave a long, shuddering breath and buried his face against Harry's neck. Harry's mind was working furiously, trying to make sense of what Ron had said. Was he telling Harry he'd changed his mind about them? It had certainly sounded that way towards the end of his ramblings.

"Sorry, I... Sorry," Ron muttered. He put a hand on Harry's chest and pushed away gently. Harry released his hold and Ron sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face. Harry topped up their glasses and pressed one into Ron's hand.

"You've got nothing to apologise for, Ron."

"Yeah, I do. I didn't mean to say all that stuff. That wasn't what I was trying to say. It all just came out." Ron shrugged helplessly. His fingers were tapping nervously on the glass he was holding and he kept darting little glances at Harry and then looking away.

Harry waited for a moment, but when Ron didn't say anything more, Harry prompted, "Did something happen at the Burrow? Did someone say something that upset you or -"

"No, it was nothing like that." Ron raised his glass and took a gulp of firewhisky, then said, "This morning. You said we were okay, but I knew I'd said something wrong."

Harry sighed. He'd been right. "I'm sorry, Ron. I said I wouldn't push you. This is all my fault. You're not ready and I -"

"What? No!" Ron twisted in his seat to face Harry. "Bloody hell, this is exactly what Ginny was talking about."

"You told her?"

"Of course not, you pillock."

Harry couldn't help but smile, relieved that Ron seemed to be acting a little more normally.

"You got the wrong end of the stick this morning," Ron said. "But that was probably my fault. I tried to tell you how I feel about you, but I'm pants at all that girly stuff." Harry's eyebrows shot up, and Ron huffed exasperatedly. "I don't mean it like... Oh, sod it. Look, I don't know what I'm doing here, and quite honestly the idea of some of it scares the shit out of me. But that's probably because I've got no idea, right? And you don't want to push, 'cause you're being all bloody noble, so you're leaving it all up to me. And I tried, I really did, but it all went wrong even though I really wanted to. So I thought it'd be easier if you just did it. Took over, you know? That's what I was trying to say, but it came out wrong."

Ron was looking Harry in the eye and nodding encouragingly.

"Right," Harry said slowly, then raised his glass and started sipping at his whisky while he valiantly attempted to work out what the hell Ron was trying to say. It didn't sound as though he wanted to end things with Harry. In fact, it sounded like... He suddenly sat back and stared at Ron in shock.

"Are you telling me that you just want me to haul you up to the bedroom and get on with it?" Harry couldn't quite believe what he was saying. But Ron was nodding enthusiastically, a look of profound relief on his face.

"Finally! Yes. That's what I've been trying to say, but I've been making a right bollocks of it, apparently."

It was all too much. Harry tried to bite down a chuckle but it bubbled out and he collapsed against the back of the couch, giggling helplessly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasped out desperately as he saw the hurt look on Ron's face. "I must have been driving you nuts."

"Too right," Ron agreed with a slow, wry smile.

"C'mere," Harry said as he leant forward. He put his hand on the back on Ron's neck and pulled him into a kiss.

"Weren't you supposed to be doing something today?" Ron asked several minutes later.

Harry's brain sluggishly acknowledged the question, and dragged itself away from all things Ron long enough to recall what day it was and what he was supposed to be doing. He groaned as he remembered.

"There's a birthday party at the Manor for one of the kids. Katie. She'll be eight. Draco's threatened to rip my lungs out if I don't show up. Apparently the kids will be disappointed if I'm not there."

It was his own fault. He always brought bags of stuff for them when he visited. Wheezes that were relatively safe, and a good selection of Honeydukes's wide range of sweets. And he might buy the odd toy or two. Draco scolded him, saying he was spoiling them, but Harry knew he was secretly pleased that Harry's visits provided such a bright spot for the children.

"Can't miss that, then," Ron said with a sigh.

"You could come with me. If you wanted to," Harry said, putting on his best pathetic look. Ron just laughed and shook his head.

"Won't work, mate. You know me and Malfoy don't get on that well."

That was an understatement. They still sniped at each other viciously, but maintained an armed truce in deference to Harry.

"Besides," Ron continued, "I Portkeyed out of Ginny's bedroom. Mum's probably already organised a search party. You know how she gets. I should go back and smooth things over."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry said reluctantly. "It's just - I'm probably going to have to go away for a few days. I messed something up that Draco needs and I'm going to have to fix it, and..." He paused as a sudden thought struck him. "Tell you what. How about taking next weekend off? We could spend it together."

A slow smile lit Ron's face. "I'd like that. But what'll I tell the twins?"

"Just tell them I've asked you to help me with some business this weekend. They won't say no, not if they know what's good for them. And if they get difficult, just tell your mum you've been feeling a bit tired lately. She'll have a word with them," Harry said with an evil grin.

Ron sniggered. "She's already been getting stuck into them, so Ginny reckons."

"There you are then. Done. I've got some friends that I'd really like you to meet. We'll go there for dinner Friday night. And I haven't taken you to the club, yet."

Ron looked hesitant for a moment, but then nodded decisively. "Yeah, sounds great."

Harry glanced at his watch. He was late.

"I'd better get going," Ron said as he stood up. Harry pushed himself off the couch and followed Ron out into the hallway. "See you later, then."

"Wait."

Harry wrapped his arms around Ron and kissed him passionately. Then he took a step back. "Till Friday."

Ron smiled. Then with a soft 'pop' he was gone.

---<@

Draco glared as Harry sheepishly apologised for his late arrival, but Harry was almost instantly tackled by a horde of children, saving him from a lecture. The birthday girl loved the doll and the mountain of accessories Harry had bought her.

Draco had been horrified when the doll started crying, and his eyes grew rounder and rounder as Harry described all the other life-like attributes of the toy. Apparently there was no magical equivalent of the electronic baby dolls Muggle girls were so fond of.

Narcissa instantly confiscated all the other bags that Harry had brought with him, telling the disappointed children that they could share their contents later. Harry was quietly relieved. The children were excited enough without eating any more sweets. They'd be bouncing off the walls if they got any more sugar.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Harry found himself counting heads at one point. He knew for a fact that there were only ten children under the age of eleven living at the Manor, but Harry could have sworn it seemed like many, many more at times.

Finally it was time for the birthday cake, and as the children sat and ate, the adults had time to sit down and have a very welcome drink.

"Thank you," Harry said as he gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Narcissa Malfoy. She gave him an amused look. "I don't know how you do it, Narcissa. A couple of hours and I'm worn out."

"You children have no stamina," she said as she took the seat next to Harry. He just rolled his eyes and sipped his tea.

"So, how are..."

There was a loud crash. A red-faced Tonks had apparently tripped over a doll's pram, and Neville and Remus had rushed to her aid. Narcissa sighed and closed her eyes as she shook her head.

"The Metamorphmagus gift is a trial to young Nymphadora. Her mother despaired of her as a young girl. One wonders how she managed to survive so long, given her choice of career."

"It never seems to be an issue when she's working," Harry said with a grin. "She's a Senior Auror now. Trains the recruits, and they all have a healthy respect for her."

"Of that I have no doubt."

"So, any problems? Anything you need?"

The Ministry had been thwarted in its efforts to confiscate the Malfoy estate because Draco had been able to prove he wasn't Marked when the estate had passed to him. Voldemort, however, had plundered their vaults with Lucius's tacit permission, and by the time Draco had taken possession, a great deal of the Malfoy wealth was gone. Narcissa had still been determined to take in as many of the homeless children who'd been infected during Greyback's rampages as she could find, however. When Harry had learnt of this, he'd insisted that Narcissa take one of the Black family vaults, arguing that it was hers by right. He'd also set up a vault to finance Draco's research into the Wolfsbane potion. He knew that neither of them spent a Sickle of that money on themselves, despite his protests that it was for them, too.

Narcissa shook her head. "Thank you, Harry, but we have everything we need. Although..." She hesitated a moment, then continued, "Draco has spoken to you about the difficulty of procuring certain potions ingredients?"

Harry nodded. "It's all under control," he said, mentally crossing his fingers.

"Good."

Loud laughter from the children's table drew their attention for a moment. Tonks was putting on a show, morphing herself into various people and turning herself odd colours, and the children were laughing uproariously.

"How can they be so happy, Narcissa? It's like they haven't got a care in the world."

"Children are remarkably resilient creatures," Narcissa said softly. "They need to be warm and safe, have enough to eat, and know they're loved and wanted. That they have a home and people who care for them." She gave Harry a knowing look, and he conceded the point with a nod.

"But still. What they've seen... Their parents killed or abandoning them, and being bitten..."

Narcissa nodded. "In many ways, the curse of lycanthropy makes it easier for them. Particularly those whose parents abandoned them. We are pack. I am their Alpha, their mother, their protector. They belong to me in a way they could never belong to their parents. It's harder for the older children, of course."

Narcissa had also taken in five teenagers, who were definitely earning their pocket money today as they ran around, organising games and keeping an eye on the younger children.

"Remus helps enormously, especially with the older boys. He's such a strong Alpha male that they can confidently challenge his authority, knowing that he will put them firmly back in their place. They need that security."

Harry found this glimpse of pack dynamics fascinating. He quietly studied Remus; the mild-mannered academic, always ready with a quick smile and an understanding ear, a definite peacemaker, who at that moment looked like he was gently reassuring Neville about something.

"You'd never think it to look at him, would you?" Narcissa said softly, as though reading Harry's thoughts. He acknowledged her comment with a smile. "And of course he's a wonderful teacher. The children adore him."

The children, of course, weren't allowed to go to school with 'normal' children. Younger magical children were generally homeschooled anyway, so they really didn't notice any difference. But for the teenagers, some of whom had already started attending Hogwarts, it was a bitter pill to swallow. Narcissa had simply viewed this as another challenge. She'd turned part of one wing of the Manor into a school, and Remus had actively recruited teaching staff, having surprisingly little trouble filling the positions. Word of the school spread through the werewolf community and twenty-two children currently attended each day, from first years through to those taking NEWTs. The school could not officially exist under the current political climate, of course, so the children sat their OWLs and NEWTs as 'independently educated' students.

Griselda Marchbanks, Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, had turned out to be a bit of a rebel, on the quiet. She'd arrived at the Manor just after lunch one day, a few weeks after the school had opened, and informed a startled Narcissa that she'd come to inspect the school - which did not exist, of course. She'd questioned Narcissa extensively, approved the staff and textbooks, observed one of the classes in operation, and then pronounced herself satisfied. She'd informed Narcissa that independent students could schedule their own exams, thus avoiding having to sit them when on a day when they were, perhaps, feeling a little under the weather. Over afternoon tea, she'd given Narcissa her private Floo address, and told her that she was available at any time should there be any problems with the children's education. Harry had a great deal of respect for Professor Marchbanks.

"All right, everyone," Narcissa said loudly as she stood up. "Time for some games."

The children cheered as the adults bit back groans, plastered smiles on their faces and joined the fray.

By the time the tired children were rounded up for baths and bedtime, at the end of a very long and fun-filled day, Harry was worn out and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep. But he needed to talk to Draco. Harry had only managed to find one moonstone importer capable of providing the quantities Draco required, and they wanted to charge him gemstone-quality prices. Harry could have easily afforded to pay what they wanted, but he knew they thought they had him over a barrel, and were quite frankly ripping him off. He'd told them that, in no uncertain terms, and was now faced with the prospect of finding an alternate source of supply. It wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to. With good reason.

---<@

Four days after Katie's birthday party, Harry Apparated into the flat he shared with Ron in Diagon Alley. He was footsore, exhausted, and heartily sick of gem traders and miners. In fact, if he never saw another moonstone again, he'd be a happy man.

Harry's little chat with Draco concerning the supply of moonstones for the Wolfsbane potion had gone as well as could be expected. As a consequence of their discussion - although Harry wasn't sure that sitting there nodding while Draco ranted at him, disparaging his intelligence for a solid hour, qualified as a discussion - Harry had spent the following four days Apparating all over the globe. He'd finally given up his fruitless efforts at negotiation and bought out a small moonstone mining company in Australia. The first shipment would arrive within six weeks, with regular monthly deliveries after that. They could sell the excess, making a tidy profit, and Harry was cautiously optimistic about how things had turned out. He had, however, taken the precaution of bringing several pounds of moonstone with him when he left Australia, which he had delivered personally before coming home to sleep for a week. He hoped it would keep Draco off his back for a while.

So Harry was less than pleased to find Seamus and Dean sitting in the living room with Ron. He sat and had a drink with them for the sake of politeness before pleading exhaustion and heading into his bedroom. A minute or so later there was a tap on his bedroom door.

"Harry?"

"Hey. Sorry, mate, been a long few days and I'm knackered. You been okay?"

"Yeah. I'm really looking forward to having the weekend off, though," Ron said with a wink. "Anyway, I just put my head round the door to see if you were okay." Harry nodded. He knew he had a stupid smile on his face, but he didn't care. "Sleep well, mate. I'll try and keep the noise down."

---<@

Harry didn't wake up until well after lunch the next day. He was a little annoyed that he'd slept so late into the day, as he had a few things he needed to do before Ron closed the shop for the night. He quickly showered and dressed, and made his way out of Diagon Alley.

Three hours later, he let himself back into the flat and headed into the kitchen, biting back a curse when he found Ron sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea with the twins.

"Don't you two ever bloody go home?" he said as he opened the cold cupboard and pulled out a Butterbeer.

"Just checking in with our baby brother, here -"

"- and making sure he's got everything he needs for his weekend of debauchery."

Harry almost dropped his drink as he gaped at the twins in shock.

"No need to look so surprised, Harry. 'Going away on business' my arse."

"A weekend of booze and birds where nobody knows who you are, more like."

"Not before time, either. When was the last time you got some, Harry?"

"People'll start to talk."

Harry was still feeling tired from his four days of long-distance Apparition, time zone changes, odd food and too little sleep, and was in no mood for a comedy double act. He felt a flash of anger, and the cups and saucers on the kitchen table suddenly started rattling about. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

There was complete silence for a moment, then one twin said, "Not that they'd say anything about you, mate."

"Not where there was any chance you could hear them, anyway."

"'Cause you're seriously fucking scary, sometimes."

The twins shared one of their looks. "Anyway, we just dropped by to tell Ron that Lee's covering for him tomorrow -"

"- and to tell you two to have lots of anonymous fun."

"Not that you wouldn't."

"Not at all."

"You could have invited us along, though."

"Every sodding weekend is booze and birds with you two," Ron said. "Although if Angelina and Katie get wind of some of your tricks -"

"Fuck! Keep it down, Ron. Never know who's listening!"

Harry had had enough. He dumped the half-empty bottle in the rubbish bin and turned to Ron. "Ready to go?"

"Definitely," Ron said, glaring at his brothers. "Just let me grab my bag." He stood up, then added pointedly, "You've packed, yeah?"

"'Course," Harry lied, patting his allegedly shrunken-bag holding pocket.

"We'll be off then," one of the twins said. Harry ushered them out to the hall, smiled dutifully at their off-colour farewells and breathed a sigh of relief as they Apparated away.

Ron appeared in the hallway a moment later, and they headed out to Muggle London in silence. In fact, it wasn't until they were walking down the hallway to Blaise's flat that Harry allowed himself to relax.

"You looked like you were going to have a heart attack," Ron said with a smirk.

"I almost did. It didn't seem to bother you one bit. I thought they'd found out."

"Nah. I know how their minds work. They think everybody's the same as them. Booze and birds is all they think about, apart from jokes." He shook his head as he chuckled. "Rattling the cups was a nice touch. Scared the shit out of them."

"That was an accident. I got angry."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Happen much, does it?" he asked casually.

"Too often, just lately. Hermione's wedding can't come soon enough."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "Is it just when you get upset, or angry?"

"So far," Harry said shortly. Ron seemed to understand that he didn't want to talk about it.

"Should have seen your face," he said with a grin.

"I'm glad you found it amusing," Harry said as he stopped at Blaise's front door.

"Very. Only reason I keep you around."

"Is that right?" Harry said as he moved closer. He put his hands on Ron's hips and gave a little push. Ron quickly took a half step to regain his balance and his back hit Blaise's front door.

"Might not be the only reason," Ron said. "You're not a bad kisser."

"Only not bad?" Harry said as he pressed himself against Ron. "I should probably get some more practice then."

Ron slipped his arms around Harry's neck as Harry leant in and kissed him. There was a sudden blur of motion, and Harry found himself lying on top of Ron as they floated inches from the ground. Ron hadn't seemed to notice as he continued to kiss Harry. Harry opened his eyes and peered sideways, to see an immaculately shod foot tapping impatiently near his head.

"Some people, boring, pedestrian plebs that they are, actually knock at the door and simply stand and wait to be admitted. I hear your shocked gasps, but I assure you, it's nothing but the truth. And as inspiring as this little tableau is, the neighbours really don't need the free show."

Harry had started giggling, which set Ron off, and they were laughing helplessly by the time Harry climbed off Ron and dragged them both to their feet. Blaise pulled Harry into a hug and whispered, "I'm so happy for you, sweetie," before releasing him and giving Ron a hug. "Hurt him and I'll rip your heart out," he hissed into Ron's ear before releasing him.

"Thanks for the cushioning charm," Harry said sheepishly.

"Oh, that wasn't me. Your magic must be as protective of him as you are."

"Zabini?" Ron was gaping in shock as he stared at Blaise, who was clad in a slinky black dress and stiletto heels. "But you're dead, aren't you?"

"It's a long story, Ron. I met Blaise in a Muggle club just after the war -"

"And he'll tell you all about it later, so why don't you two make yourselves comfortable. I'll get us some drinks. Dinner won't be long and Martin should -"

"Martin should what?"

"Perfect timing, darling," Blaise said as he walked over to embrace the new arrival.

"He looks like Malfoy's twin brother!" Ron hissed into Harry's ear. Harry rolled his eyes, but looking at Martin Bonavere, he could definitely see the resemblance. Both were tall, slim, blond and arrogant looking. But Martin was a Squib, so while there was possibly a distant family connection somewhere, he was definitely more at home in the Muggle world than Draco could ever be.

"Harry! Good to see you, mate," Martin said, pulling Harry into a hug. He turned to Ron, and Harry said hurriedly, "This is Ron Weasley. Ron, Martin Bonavere." Martin shook Ron's hand and looked him up and down appraisingly.

"Well," he drawled, a knowing smile on his face. "This certainly explains a lot about your choice of er, dance partners, Harry."

"Martin," Harry said, a note of warning in his voice. Blaise stepped in and made a shooing motion with his hands.

"You're cluttering up my hallway. Sit down now, the lot of you, and I'll get us some drinks."

Once Blaise had finished playing host, he perched himself on the arm of Martin's chair and said, "So, I'm dying of curiosity here, Harry. How did you two finally get together?"

Harry grinned at him. "I took Ron back to the house, and we talked."

"That's it? You talked? That's all you did?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Harry said.

Blaise stared at him for a moment then glanced at Ron, who was finding his drink to be unusually fascinating, and said, "Uhuh. Well, I had heard your oral skills were very persuasive." He gave Harry a knowing smirk when Ron nearly choked on his drink, his face going bright red. "Very agile tongue," he added.

Harry glared at Blaise. "Shouldn't you be checking on dinner? Something might be burning."

"Everything's fine, sweetie. Talking to you is much more entertaining."

"I can make sure something's burning."

"Spoilsport," Blaise pouted, and Martin rolled his eyes.

"So, Ron," Martin said, "How much has Harry told you about us?"

Ron glanced at Harry, who said, "You know I can't say anything in Diagon Alley, and we haven't had that much time on our own at the house. I told him we were going to dinner with some very good friends, and that you were my business partners, and that I'd explain once we got here." He twisted in his seat until he was facing Ron. "It all started when I met Blaise in a Muggle gay club. I was - well, I was pretty messed up, and I'd had far too much to drink and literally tripped over him. He recognised me straight away, hauled me out of there and brought me back here. He sobered me up, let me cry on his shoulder and then read me the riot act. Anyway, very long story short, the company that owned that particular club was in receivership, so I formed a partnership with Blaise and Martin, who was the manager of the club at the time, and we bought it."

"Harry bought it," Martin said.

"No. The partnership bought it," Harry insisted. "Martin still runs the place, and Blaise takes care of PR - Public Relations," he clarified when Ron looked confused. "At the moment, we're planning to renovate. There's a large storage area that's completely unused. So we're thinking of converting it to a piano bar, something a bit more upmarket, you know, and also completely update the main club; refurbish it, modernise all the electronics and so on, with the intention of opening five days a week, initially, maybe more if there's interest. It's currently only open Thursday to Sunday, you see. But as I say, we're still in the planning stages at the moment."

"I think we'll do well," Martin said. "We're unique, you see. The only magic-friendly gay club in the country. Harry'll show you what I mean when you come to look at the place tomorrow. There's a dedicated Apparition point, and a Wizarding foyer. My sister, Rosie, takes care of that bit. She's a Squib, same as me, so she understands things from the magical as well as the Muggle side."

"Actually, you might be interested in talking to Martin about our plans for the business. I'm useless at that stuff." Harry shook his head as Martin began to protest. "You know I am. I'm providing the capital, and that's the extent of my business knowledge. Same thing as I did with the twins, Ron. You're pretty good at all that stuff, though. The twins are doing brilliantly now, and even they admit that it's down to you."

"Yeah, but it's not exactly the same thing, Harry."

"Actually, I'd like to hear more about the shops, Ron," Martin said. "Harry's told me a bit about your brothers, and it sounds to me like you had your work cut out trying to organise them."

"Great," Harry said with a grin as he jumped to his feet. "I'll give Blaise a hand getting dinner ready while Ron tells you all about it."

Harry glanced at Martin, who gave him a quick nod, then dropped a kiss on Ron's lips before dragging Blaise out into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, Blaise started to protest that dinner would be at least another half an hour, but Harry quelled him with a look and stood listening as Martin asked Ron to tell him about the joke shops. Ron started off hesitantly, but after a minute or so he started talking more freely. Harry stood frozen in the doorway as their conversation became more and more animated, until he finally breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the wall with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes as he felt a kiss on his cheek, to see Blaise looking at him with a worried expression on his face.

"You okay, sweetie? You look worn out - I thought you'd fallen asleep in the doorway," Blaise said as he handed Harry a glass of wine.

Harry smiled at him as he pushed himself away from the wall. "I'll be fine. It's just been a very long week."

"You really think this is a good idea?"

"Definitely. I think Martin would be the perfect mentor for Ron. I just hoped Ron would get on with him."

Blaise nodded. "He does have a lot of experience with managing people, and he's very, very good at it. Actually, he's very good at a lot of things," Blaise added with a smirk.

"There has to be some compensation for living with an old man, I suppose," Harry said. He ducked as Blaise swatted him with the tea towel. "Watch it! I almost spilled my drink!"

"He's not that much older, you cheeky sod. And anyway, why did you think Ron wouldn't get on with him? Everybody loves Martin."

"Because he looks like Draco's older brother. And Ron still hates Draco with a passion."

"Ah. The Weasleys and the Malfoys have hated each other for centuries, Harry. Draco changing sides during the War isn't going to change that."

"No. I kind of worked that out for myself."

Blaise took a sip of his wine, then said, "So, when are you intending to mention this plan of yours to Ron?"

"Not for a while, yet. I'm taking it one step at a time. I've still got a lot of work to do on building a relationship with him. As lovers, Blaise, not just best mates," he said as he saw the look of disbelief that crossed Blaise's face.

"Well, it's not as if you need to get to know him, is it?" Blaise said. "But I do know what you mean. You're moving things to a new level and there's bound to be an adjustment period."

"Exactly. I want us to spend time just being together as a couple. I want him to be comfortable being in a relationship with me. And when the time's right, I'll do my best to nudge him in the right direction."

Blaise grimaced. "Just because he's got a good head for business doesn't mean that he'll want to run one of his own. He might have something completely different in mind."

"I know that, Blaise. I just want him to realise how talented he is at this stuff. He doesn't seem to have much confidence in himself. He's told me he's never really thought about what he'd like to do, and I want to give him the space to work that out for himself. And I suppose I feel guilty, too. He should have spent his seventh year at Hogwarts, playing Quidditch and having fun and taking his NEWTs. He wanted to try out as Keeper for the Cannons. God knows they could have done a lot worse. But instead I dragged him along with me. It was dangerous, and it was my job, not his. And it's my fault that he nearly died when he cracked his skull open in Diagon Alley. No club'll even try him out as Keeper now, not after that sort of head injury," Harry said bitterly.

"Don't you dare start wallowing again," Blaise said sharply. "Shit happens, Harry. It's a fact of life. You deal with it and move on. I'm not saying you shouldn't help Ron get set up if you can. All I'm saying is that he might have different ideas about what he wants to do than you have. Trying to push him in the direction you think would be best for him is only going to make him feel manipulated." He glanced over Harry's shoulder and then shrugged.

"I'm not going to push him," Harry said. "I just want to make sure that he knows he has options. I owe him more than I can ever repay, Blaise. But that stupid Weasley pride gets in the bloody way. I love him. I don't think he realises how important he is to me. I'd give him the world, if the stubborn bastard would let me." Harry jumped as arms slid around his waist and he felt a solid warmth at his back.

"The stubborn bastard knows you would," Ron said. Harry banished his glass of wine and crossed his arms over Ron's, letting his head drop back onto Ron's shoulder as Blaise made good his escape into the living room.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you're a complete pillock, but I knew that already. I did what I wanted to do, Harry. What I needed to do. There's nothing for you to feel guilty about."

Harry turned his head and Ron leant in and captured his lips. Harry turned in his arms and they stood kissing in the kitchen until Blaise bustled back in very noisily, Martin in tow.

"All right, you two, break it up," Blaise said. He handed Martin a couple of bottles and shooed them all into the dining area, then with a bit of deft wandwork soon had dinner on the table. Martin opened a bottle of champagne, and dinner was a lively affair. Ron and Martin talked almost non-stop, and Harry found it hard to stop grinning like a loon.

Blaise took Ron into the living room with their coffee and brandy after dinner, saying he'd done his bit and Ron was guest of honour, so Harry and Martin should clean up. Martin started to pick up the plates and Harry shook his head.

"Sit down, mate. Blaise is giving us a minute on our own to talk." With a gesture the table was cleared. "There you are, all done, cleaned and put away," Harry said with a smile. "So, you and Ron had a chat about the club?"

"You mean you weren't standing in the doorway, eavesdropping?" Martin said, grinning as Harry's face heated up. "Yeah, he told me about the shops, and then I told him about the club. I tell you what, a couple of weeks, tops, and he could be running the place like he was born doing it," Martin assured Harry. "He started making suggestions for improvements once I'd filled him in on the place, and we tossed around a few ideas. And I mean useful, practical suggestions. He spotted the same potential problems that I did. He's wasted working for his brothers. It was good experience, but I reckon he's ready to move on, now."

"That's what I think, too," Harry agreed.

"Just give him time to work out what he's interested in," Martin cautioned. "Don't rush him." He took a sip of his drink and then said, "You've got yourself a winner there, mate. I'd hang on tight to this one."

"Oh, I intend to. Took me years to get him, and he's not getting away."

"Yeah, Blaise has filled me in a bit on this formerly unattainable bloke of yours. He didn't tell me he was a redhead, though like I said, I should have guessed, eh?"

"I assume he knows there've been other blokes, Martin, but I'd rather the subject wasn't raised in front of him."

"I was just teasing you, mate. I won't say another word, honest."

Harry gave him a grin, and said, "Thanks for talking to him about all this stuff."

"You don't have to thank me, Harry. The man knows what he's talking about, and I'm more than happy to offer whatever help I can if he ever needs it. He strikes me as a hard worker with a good head on his shoulders. I like him." He paused, then said, "Does he know about the Lily Pad? I didn't mention it, just in case."

"He knows about the lycanthropy outreach stuff. I haven't told him about anything else, though. It hasn't really come up."

"You should probably tell him. He doesn't strike me as the sort who'd take kindly to you keeping secrets from him."

Harry snorted softly. "You're dead right there," he said. "But until we got together I wasn't sure how he'd take it. I'll talk to him about it tomorrow at the club."

A sudden shout of laughter from Blaise had Harry and Martin sharing a glance. "We'd better get in there," Martin said. "You know what Blaise is like once he's had a few." Harry nodded ruefully and topped up their brandy glasses.

They walked into the living room to find Blaise giggling madly and Ron looking totally stunned, his face bright red.

"Oh, God," Harry groaned. "Blaise, leave the poor sod alone. What have you been saying to him?"

"Just filling in a few blank spots, darling. You know my views on the importance of a good education. Speaking of which, Tris gave me something for you." Blaise hopped up and grabbed a videotape from under the bar. He handed it to Harry, saying, "Straight from Rob's technical ministrations to your hot little hands."

"That's a vid-e-o tape, isn't it?" Ron pronounced carefully. "I've seen them at Hermione's parents' house. She gave Dad one once, but it sort of unwound and there was miles of brown tape everywhere. There weren't any pictures on it, though. We looked."

"You need a special machine to see them," Blaise said. "Muggles are very ingenious, you know."

"So what's on that one?" Ron asked.

"Oh, it's very educational," Blaise said, nodding seriously at Ron. "You'd learn a lot. In fact, I could pop it in now, let you -"

"No! Thanks, but no, thanks." Harry said quickly. He glared at Blaise, who grinned unrepentantly at him. Harry banished the tape to the house with a gesture. Blaise squeaked and Harry grinned evilly at him.

"Bastard," Blaise muttered. "Doesn't that bother you?" he demanded, looking at Ron. Ron looked confused for a moment, and then looked at Harry questioningly.

"Blaise is almost completely Muggle now. There's no risk of anyone finding out from him. I work closely with him and Martin sometimes, so it was just easier if they knew."

Ron nodded, then smiled at Blaise. "Harry's always been something special; the rules have never applied to him. I'm used to him doing that sort of stuff now."

"You must have nerves of steel. I'd demand danger money, sweetie, I really would," Blaise said to Ron. "Anyway, before we were so rudely interrupted, I was telling you all about my narrow escape from betrothal at wandpoint..."

Harry watched as Ron laughed and joked with Blaise and Martin, and breathed a sigh of relief. They were two of his closest friends, and despite Blaise's casual assurance that they'd all get on like a house on fire, he'd had his doubts. Ron tended to judge on first impressions, and with Martin looking like a Malfoy, and Blaise - just basically being Blaise, flamboyant and unapologetically over the top, it could have been a disaster. But they were all relaxed, chatting as though they'd known each other for years.

It seemed no time at all before Martin was regretfully announcing that it was getting late and that they had to go. Martin's oldest sister had opened the club so that he could have dinner with Harry and Ron, but he'd promised her that he and Blaise would be back before 10.30.

"So, we'll see you two tomorrow afternoon?" Martin said as he saw them off. "You can have a tour of the club, then maybe we can have dinner at that Italian restaurant that's just opened up over the road. I've heard a couple of people say that the food's really good there. Then you two can put on your glad rags and Ron can see the place in action."

Ron nodded and Harry said, "Sounds great. See you about three." Then he slipped an arm around Ron and with a gentle 'pop' they were gone.

---<@

Harry made coffee while Ron wandered into the living room. When Harry brought the coffee through, Ron was standing by the shelves, looking at the DVDs and videotapes. Harry put the coffee down and walked over to Ron, who looked vaguely defensive as he said, "Why didn't you want Blaise to show me that tape?"

Harry sighed in resignation. He didn't want to deal with this right now. "You don't really understand the Muggle world that well, Ron, and you definitely don't understand the gay scene. The program on the tape's a bit - well, the way they behave -"

Ron burst out laughing. "So it is porn, then. I thought it probably was. And what? You're worried that I'll be offended? Or it'll put me off or something?" He shook his head and smiled fondly at Harry. "Oh, Harry. You've never been on any of the more adventurous binges with the twins and their mates, have you? I think there's very little that would shock me any more, trust me on this."

Harry wasn't so sure about that, but simply said, "Fine, okay. But not tonight. I spent most of this week Apparating around the world, and I still haven't caught up with my sleep yet. And tomorrow's going to be a late night. You can watch it on Sunday if you really want to, okay?"

Ron nodded and sat down on the couch. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, then said, "I've seen some Muggle porn, you know. Went with Seamus and Dean and some of their mates to a Muggle club that showed it. Didn't seem to have much of a story to it. Basically everyone just got their kit off and got stuck in. There were tits and arses everywhere. Is that what those tapes are like?"

"No. There actually is a story. They just throw the sex in on top of it. And it's probably not as graphic as you've seen at a porn theatre. Not a lot of tits, either, although I think there might be one scene with a lesbian couple. Didn't pay that much attention." Ron looked blankly at him, so Harry explained, "Gay women call themselves lesbians."

Ron's eyes widened. "Wow! Women do that? Of course women do that. But..." He shook his head slowly and his brow furrowed. "How do they do it? I mean, what do they do?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have a clue; you've probably got a better idea than me. Anything I know I got from those really embarrassing classes in fifth year and what I've heard from you lot in the dorm when you were all going on about girls and how far they'd let you go."

Ron looked at Harry in surprise. "You mean you've never been with a girl? Ever? I always thought that you and Ginny... I mean, I know she's my sister, but she's never been backwards in coming forwards, if you know what I mean. Knows what she wants and goes all out until she gets it. And she was pretty set on getting you."

"Nope. There's only one Weasley I ever wanted like that, and it wasn't Ginny."

"I'm actually really pleased to hear that," Ron said with a grin.

Their gazes locked, and Harry felt arousal coil low in his stomach as he stared into Ron's eyes. He tilted his head slightly and said, "I want to take you to bed."

Ron nodded slowly, and followed Harry out of the living room and up the stairs. As Harry entered the bedroom the curtains drew themselves, the fire blazed up, the duvet folded itself back and the candles sprang to life. Ron gave a nervous laugh and muttered, "Show off." Harry shot him a grin and then casually began to strip. Ron's eyes widened and he swallowed hard as Harry stood next to the bed, naked, and smiled at him.

"Come here, Ron," Harry said. Ron started fumbling with his shirt buttons as he walked towards Harry, and jumped when Harry gently batted his hands away. "Let me," he said softly as he finished unbuttoning Ron's shirt. He slid his hands under the open shirt, running them slowly over Ron's chest and shoulders until the shirt slipped off to puddle on the floor. Ron shivered.

"Cold?" Harry asked. Ron shook his head. "Good." Harry leant in and Ron parted his lips. Harry felt the warmth of Ron's breath as he lightly panted, and he waited a few moments before brushing their lips together. Ron let out a shuddering breath as Harry slipped his hand behind Ron's head and kissed him. Ron immediately wrapped his arms around Harry and deepened the kiss. Harry rested a hand on Ron's hip for a moment before sliding it between their bodies and unbuttoning Ron's jeans. He deliberately brushed his fingers over Ron's hardening cock, and Ron gasped into his mouth. Then he slipped his hands under the waistband and eased Ron's trousers down over his hips.

Ron froze for a moment, and then broke the kiss. Before Harry could react, Ron toed off his shoes and kicked off his trousers, a look of determination on his face. Then he gave Harry a hesitant smile. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around Ron and kissed him passionately.

Lying on the bed, his body pressed against a hard, naked Ron was a wonderful thing, Harry decided. But he really was extraordinarily tired, so he decided to keep things simple. He summoned a handful of the vanilla oil he favoured and slipped his hand between them again.

Neither of them lasted long, and when Ron slumped onto his back, spent, Harry propped himself up on one elbow and just looked at him, smiling as he saw the wide grin on Ron's face.

"All right?"

"Brilliant," Ron said softly.

Harry leant in and kissed him. And then yawned widely. Ron slipped an arm under his neck and pulled Harry close.

"How about cleaning us up, then you can get some sleep," Ron said. A moment later they were clean and dry, snuggled under the duvet in each other's arms. Harry extinguished the candles, leaving the room dark apart from the gentle glow from the fire. He was just drifting off when he heard:

"Why does Blaise wear women's clothes?"

"What? Um... He doesn't always wear them. He just likes to dress up when he's going out. He says they make him feel sexy."

"Oh," Ron said, "Do many blokes do that then?"

"Some. Not that many. Go to sleep, Ron."

"Okay."

The room was quiet again, apart from the crackle of the flames. Harry closed his eyes.

"Do you think that those lesbian girls like to dress up as men sometimes, then?"

"Dunno," Harry mumbled.

"Wouldn't be the same, I don't suppose. And girls wear trousers and things, anyway. I mean, Ginny -"

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you more than anything in the world, but I'm going to have to kill you if you don't shut up and let me sleep."

"Okay. You're cute when you're all sleepy and grumpy, you know."

Harry couldn't help smiling as he felt Ron nuzzle his hair for a moment, and then kiss him.

"G'night, mate," Ron said, and within seconds, or so it seemed, his breathing quieted and evened out, and he was asleep. Harry snorted softly as he settled down to sleep, nestled into the solid warmth of his lover.

*****

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Also, the unabridged version of this story can be found on my livejournal. Link in my profile.