Translation of Light

Chapter 7

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"Are you sure these trousers aren't too tight?" Ron asked as he stared at himself in the mirror. He tugged at the back of the tight, black jeans once more, trying to dislodge the seam that seemed intent on crawling up his arse.

"They're perfect," Harry said. "But if you don't stop wriggling like that, I'm going to strip them off you, throw you on the bed, and then we'll never get out of the house."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said, smiling even as he felt his face heat up. The fact that Harry's words sent a little shiver of excitement through him wasn't lost on Ron. He studied himself in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt, and tentatively tested out the thought that he was going to spend the evening at a club where men danced with other men. And then he'd come home, and go to bed with Harry. A flush rose to his cheeks again, but he felt only nervous anticipation. He found himself wondering idly about the other people who would be at the club that evening, and if he would recognise any other wizards, when the sudden, horrifying thought occurred that one of them might recognise him.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not like I want to hide, not really, but..." Ron chewed on his bottom lip as he stared at his hair.

"Your hair does shout 'Weasley' doesn't it? You certainly stand out in a crowd."

Ron turned to face Harry, who looked at him critically for a moment and then ran his hand over Ron's hair. "How about that?" he asked.

Ron turned back to the mirror and blinked in surprise. His hair was now much longer, like his brother Bill's, and was light brown with golden highlights. Harry conjured a black leather strip and tied Ron's hair back.

"Wow! I look really different! I might get you to leave it like this for a while."

Harry crinkled his nose. "I love your hair, Ron. Maybe just leave it longer, but change the colour back?"

Ron nodded absently as he admired himself in the mirror. He really did like the new colour, and everybody associated 'Weasley' with 'redhead'. So in a dimly lit club, there was almost no chance of anybody recognising him. He looked at Harry's reflection for a moment, then said, "What about you?"

"What about me?" Harry said. Ron gestured vaguely at his own head, and Harry looked at him blankly for a moment. "Oh! No. No need. Nobody ever recognises me."

"But everybody knows who you are!"

Harry just shook his head. "No, they really don't. Harry Potter is still a skinny kid with messy black hair, glasses and a scar, for most of the wizarding world, Ron. Those old pictures of me were used over and over by the newspapers, and that image is what's stuck in people's minds. Most people couldn't pick me out of a crowd, these days."

Just for a moment, Ron could clearly see a young Harry in his mind. And he had to concede the point. Harry now was taller, more muscular, with fairly short, neatly styled hair and a light tan. And no distinguishing glasses or scar. He nodded thoughtfully and said with a grin, "Handy, that."

"Yeah. I'm not complaining," Harry said as he slipped on his jacket. "You ready to go?"

Ron picked up his own jacket and said, "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Harry pulled a black leather wallet out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Ron. "You'll need a Muggle-style wallet, and I had this one spare. Your club membership card is in there, and I put some Muggle money in there, too. Because you haven't had time to go to Gringotts," he added.

Ron bit back a grin at the defensive note in Harry's voice. There was no point getting huffy with Harry about this sort of thing, Ron had decided. It was just the way he was, and if Ron was serious about wanting to be with him, well, he was going to have to get used to it. And Harry really was just being thoughtful; Ron knew that. So he simply smiled and said, "Good thinking, mate."

Harry looked surprised for a moment, then gave Ron a brilliant smile and pulled him into a hug. "Thanks, Ron," he said softly.

And at that moment, Ron had a revelation. Harry kept giving him things, and doing things for him, and he'd been racking his brains trying to think of some way to reciprocate and appease his dented pride. But he'd been looking at it the wrong way. Harry wasn't just giving him things. He was trying to take care of him. It was Harry's way of showing how much he loved him. And all Ron had to do to make him happy was let him do it. Ron huffed softly. It was so simple when you looked at things the right way.

"Soppy git," Ron said with a wink. Then he flipped open the wallet and carefully examined the contents. Muggle money never failed to amuse him. He found all the different coins and oddly-coloured notes to be unnecessarily confusing. It was difficult to think of it as real money, not like Galleons. He put the notes back into the wallet and shoved it into his back pocket, then Harry slipped his arm around Ron's waist, and a moment later they were in the alleyway next to the club.

Harry pushed open the door to the club, and Ron followed him in. He looked around nervously, but there were only a couple of people in the foyer. They were standing at the desk listening to the receptionist, and paid no attention to him whatsoever. Harry gave him a reassuring smile, and said softly, "You okay?"

Ron nodded.

"We'll just wait here a minute for Rosie to finish with those two, then I'll introduce you," Harry said. Ron nodded absently, his attention divided between Harry and eavesdropping on what the receptionist was saying to the customers at the desk.

"Now don't forget, gentlemen, you're mixing with Muggles. Please adhere to the 'no magic' rule and keep your wands out of sight. Yes, that always makes people laugh," she added as the men chuckled. "And above all, enjoy yourselves. Remember, if you do over-indulge, please take one of the complimentary potions before you leave. None of us want to explain a splinching now, do we?"

The customers smiled in thanks to the receptionist and went through the door into the club. Harry was pointing out the notice board on the wall to Ron when the woman turned her bright smile on them.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Is this your first visit with us?"

"I've been here once or twice before, Rosie," Harry said with a grin as he turned to face her. She peered at him for a moment.

"Harry! How are you, love?"

"Great!" Harry took Ron's hand and led him to the desk. "Ron, meet Rosie Naylor. This is her domain. She's the point of first contact for magical folk. For a lot of them, this is their first experience of the Muggle world, and Rosie makes it a happy one and smooths the way. Font of all knowledge, and sometimes a shoulder to cry on, we'd be lost without her. Rosie meet Ron Weasley, the light of my life."

Her eyes swept over Ron. "It's lovely to meet you, sweetheart. But aren't you supposed to be a redhead?"

"Blaise has got a big mouth," Harry said with a grin. "Not tonight, Rosie. He's incognito this evening." He winked at Ron, then turned his attention back to Rosie. "Had many through yet?"

"Only a dozen or so, all regulars, but it's early yet. Oh, speak of the devil," she added as the door opened and two Wizards in formal robes walked in. They slipped them off to reveal Muggle clothing, and Rosie said quietly, "Back to work. See you later." She raised her voice and addressed the newcomers. "Good evening, gentlemen. Shall I take those for you?"

Ron followed Harry through to the bar, and carefully ordered and paid for two lagers. He gave Harry a triumphant grin, and Harry gave him a kiss.

Ron was amazed at the difference in the place. It had looked fairly dismal earlier, like an empty warehouse; dingy, with a lot of metal pipes and Muggle electrical stuff all over the place. He had found it a bit disappointing, though he hadn't said so. But now it looked completely different. There were lots of coloured lights that seemed to make patterns in the air. The big telly things and the music and the people, drinking and chatting and dancing, filled it with an air of excitement. Men were dancing together, hugging and kissing each other, and Ron had to force himself not to stare as he followed Harry around the club. Harry had told him that he'd have to work for an hour or so, which seemed to involve chatting to people here and there, answering questions, and occasionally casting a glamour and being a little difficult with the staff, who patiently did their best to make him happy. Ron noticed that most of the clientele seemed to be male, and when he mentioned it, Harry had pointed out several female couples, and then elbowed him sharply when Ron had openly gaped at two women who were kissing passionately as they danced together. No one else seemed to be paying them any attention.

"Sorry," Ron said with a sheepish grin. "But that's fucking hot, mate, you've got to admit."

Harry just stared at him, and Ron couldn't read his expression.

"No, not to me," Harry said finally, then he turned and walked off in the direction of the bar. Ron sighed and followed him. Harry bought a couple of lagers and handed one to Ron.

"Harry, look, I -"

"Forget it," Harry said sharply.

"No. You're upset about this. Can we go somewhere a bit quieter?"

Harry's shoulders sagged a little, and he nodded. Ron followed him out into the lounge, and as the doors closed the noise level dropped somewhat. They made their way over to a couch in the far corner of the room, and as they sat down Ron felt the familiar brush of Harry's magic against his skin. The sudden silence told him that Harry had cast some sort of privacy ward around them, even though Ron hadn't seen him do anything except slump onto the couch and stare at the carpet as he nursed his drink.

Ron took a long swig of his beer while he tried to gather his thoughts. He couldn't afford to be distracted by his concerns about Harry's unconscious use of magic, though he knew it was something they were going to have to talk about. Not now, though. He had other, more pressing, concerns right at that moment.

Ron took a deep breath and said, "Look, Harry. I've been watching the blokes here while I've been following you around, and I'm not like them, I don't think. I mean, they're eyeing off other blokes and chatting them up as though they were girls, you know? And I don't..." He sighed. Harry was as unmoving as a statue, and Ron felt something tighten in his chest. "I'm not interested in other men, Harry. Just you. I mean, I'm sure some of them are really nice, but I don't fancy them, not like that. And I know that if some bird wandered through here with a nice pair of tits and wiggling her arse, I'd be watching her every move. I can't help it. But I'd only be looking; I wouldn't want her, not like I want you. I don't want anyone like I want you. Harry?"

Harry was still staring at the carpet, so Ron continued, "I don't want to hurt you. I feel things for you that I've never felt for anyone before, ever. But I'm not..." Ron waved a hand vaguely as he tried to remember the word. Happy? Jolly? No, gay, that was it. "I'm not gay. At least I don't think I am. Well, not for anybody except you, anyway. And I'm probably always going to look at women and say stuff that Hermione calls me a pig for saying. But I'll try not to, and if it slips out, it doesn't mean anything. I'm sorry, okay?"

Harry sighed heavily, then turned to face Ron. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. You're being honest, that's all. I suppose it just brought it home to me; you're really not -" He broke off, and sighed again. "I'm just scared that one day you'll realise that being with me is a mistake."

Ron snorted. "Idiot! There's just as much chance that you'll go off with some other bloke. There're no guarantees in life, mate, not ever."

Harry nodded slowly, and suddenly Ron could hear the music again. Taking that as a sign that Harry didn't want to talk about this any more, Ron finished his drink and stood up. "I don't know about you, but I could do with another drink," he said as he reached down and pulled Harry to his feet. Harry slipped a hand around the back of Ron's neck and pressed his lips gently to Ron's. Ron slipped his arms around Harry and deepened the kiss. The tightness in his chest dissolved into a warm glow as he pulled Harry tightly against him.

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Ron leant against the balustrade, watching the dancing as he waited for Harry to come back with their drinks. He spotted Blaise moving purposefully across the dance floor at one point, but he disappeared again into the sea of writhing bodies. One song bled into another, and Ron had just decided to go and see where Harry had got to when he saw him weaving through the crowd towards him.

"I was about to send out a search party."

"Sorry. They were three deep at the bar. It's packed tonight," Harry said as he handed Ron one of the bottles he was carrying. Ron looked at it and raised an eyebrow.

"Did they run out of beer?"

Harry laughed. "No. It's just a good idea to drink some water after a couple of lagers. You don't realise how hot it gets in here. Especially when you're dancing. Speaking of which..."

Ron shook his head. "Oh, no. I hate dancing, you know that. Ever since that sodding Yule Ball. I think McGonagall traumatised me for life: 'lordly lion prepared to prance' my arse," he said loudly over the music. He noticed a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to see two young men standing just behind them, staring at them in surprise. They only looked seventeen or eighteen to Ron's eye - straight out of Hogwarts, he assumed. He saw Harry smile at them, and they smiled nervously back at him.

"First visit, lads?" Harry asked. They nodded in unison. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"Oh, yeah," one of them said. "This is brilliant. I never dreamed somewhere like this existed. It's so hard, you know, having to pretend all the time."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied. "But make sure you remember everything Rosie at the desk told you, especially if you have anything to do with the Muggles, okay?"

The boys looked sheepishly at each other, and one of them slipped the corner of a small white envelope out of his pocket, and then popped it back in again.

Harry laughed and asked, "Did she give you the booklet, too?"

"She made us read it before she'd let us in," one of them said ruefully. "But that's okay," he added quickly. "I'm sort of glad she did. I know nothing about the Muggle world and I definitely would have made an idiot of myself."

Harry smiled broadly at them. "Yeah, Rosie knows her stuff. Her brother's gay, so is one of her kids, and she's had a lot of contact with our world, so she understands how difficult things are all around. If you've got any problems or questions, you can go to her. If she can't help, she'll find someone who can. Never feel you've got no one to turn to, okay?" The boys nodded. "Have fun," Harry said as the two boys grinned and made their way to the dance floor.

"God, were we ever that young?" Ron said.

"They're only a few years younger than us, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Ron said ruefully as he pulled Harry into a one-armed hug. They'd been fighting a dangerous and dirty war at that age, and their experiences showed on their faces. Ron knew that they both looked closer to thirty than they really should, and some days he felt even older than that.

"Come on, you miserable sod, dance with me."

Ron gave an exaggerated sigh, then nodded and let Harry lead him down to the dance floor. He stood unmoving, staring as Harry moved sinuously to the heavy beat. Harry moved closer and loosely draped his arms over Ron's shoulders. Ron slipped his hands onto Harry's hips as Harry moved against him, rocking his hips so he brushed against Ron as he moved. Ron found himself moving to the beat, which seemed to remain constant even as one song merged into another. Harry never stopped moving against him, and the constant friction soon had his cock throbbing. He groaned and slipped his arms further around Harry, slamming their bodies together as Harry pulled him in for a bruising kiss.

Ron buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck before kissing his way up to Harry's ear and saying, "I don't think this was quite what McGonagall had in mind."

"Probably not," Harry said into Ron's ear. "But it's a lot more fun than the waltz." He rocked his hips again, grinding his cock against Ron's.

"Fuck," Ron gasped. "Can we go home now?" He was so hard he was aching. How the hell Harry managed to get him in this state so fast was a mystery to Ron.

"We don't have to leave yet. Besides, I wanted to catch up with Martin for a bit."

Ron groaned into Harry's ear as Harry ground against him again. "Fuck, Harry, you keep that up and I'm going to embarrass myself."

Harry leant back and stared into Ron's eyes as he slowly licked his lips. Then he gave Ron a grin and said, "I think I can take care of your problem for you." He took a step back, grabbed Ron's hand and hauled him off the dance floor. Harry seemed to be heading to the toilets, but he walked past the door to the end of the corridor, which turned sharply to the left. The corridor opened into a dimly lit room, and Ron couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. It was like one of those porn films he'd seen with the twins, except there were no women. At least, he didn't think there were; it was too dark to tell.

"Harry?"

"They don't want to go home yet, either," Harry said as he pushed Ron against the wall and kissed him. Ron started to protest as he felt Harry fumbling with his fly buttons, but then his hand was hot and just right around him and he could only moan helplessly into Harry's mouth. Harry pulled away and suddenly dropped to his knees and Ron looked around in a panic, but no one was paying any attention to them at all.

Ron had the vague idea that he should pull Harry back to his feet. That they shouldn't be doing this where everybody could see. But then that sinfully wicked tongue began doing something that short-circuited his brain, leaving room only for thoughts of how soft and silky Harry's hair felt as Ron wound his fingers in it, and how hot and wet his mouth was. It seemed to take forever, and no time at all, before Ron melted into a blissful heap.

Ron drifted happily in a post-orgasmic haze, and it took him several moments to realise that Harry was standing in front of him. "Better?" he asked with a grin.

Ron just stared at him, and then grabbed him and kissed him. The taste of himself on Harry's lips was something that Ron thought he could easily become addicted to. And that was just so wrong, but right at that moment Ron didn't give a flying fuck. Nobody had ever made him feel like this.

"I can't believe we just did that."

Harry burst out laughing. "C'mon, let's get a drink."

Ron followed Harry out to the bar, and while they waited for someone to serve them, he tried to smooth Harry's tousled hair.

"People'll take one look at you and know what we were doing," he explained as Harry batted his hand away.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "Do I look like I care?"

"Fine, fine. Let's just have a last drink and then head home, yeah?"

Harry paid for the drinks and handed one to Ron. They moved away from the bar, and Harry said, "You still want to go home? I thought we could stay a bit longer. Do a bit more dancing." He draped an arm over Ron's shoulder and began to sway to the music. "I'm wide awake tonight."

"That's good to hear. It'll cut down on the death threats," Ron said with a grin. "I just thought that maybe we could continue this with a few less clothes in the way." He placed a hand on Harry's arse and pulled him close.

"You did?" Harry said. He looked surprised. Actually, Ron surprised himself, even as he said it. But he realised that he meant it. It was odd. Ever since he'd told Harry to stop pissing about and just get on with it he'd felt...free. Like he'd finally made the decision and didn't have to agonise over what it meant any more. He knew that Harry hadn't intended to make things more difficult for him, but that's what had happened. He also knew that it was denial, in a way. Harry wanted Ron to consciously make the decision to do those things. To be...that. But he couldn't. So it was easier to just ignore it. What he did with Harry was...well, it was Harry. He'd die for him. He had killed for him. And if he wanted to go to bed with him, it was nobody's bloody business but his own.

"Ron?"

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Going home," Ron said, and waggled his eyebrows.

Harry chuckled and shook his head, but he had a speculative look in his eye as he said, "Well, as you seem to be taking the initiative here, I think it's time to try something a bit more adventurous tonight." Ron's eyes widened, and Harry continued, "You'll enjoy it, I promise. And I know I will. Let's go."

"I thought you wanted to see Martin?"

"I'll catch up with him next week."

-----

Harry Apparated them directly into the bedroom. The fire roared to life as Harry glanced at it, and the room felt instantly warm. Ron guessed that Harry must have cast a heating charm as well. They both stripped quickly, and fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs as they kissed. Harry rolled them until Ron was lying under him, kissing him deeply before putting his lips to Ron's ear and saying softly, "I want you to fuck me."

Ron felt a shock of arousal at the words and his arms tightened around Harry. He swallowed hard, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. Blaise had given Ron a highly graphic description of the process the previous evening while Harry had been talking to Martin. But hearing about it was one thing. Actually getting ready to do it was something else entirely.

Ron had lost his virginity when he was eighteen, and had been lucky enough to have a reasonably active sex life ever since. So he thought he knew what to expect. He'd had no idea. The fierce, surging emotions that overwhelmed him had Ron lost in a sea of sensation. He pushed in and in and saw Harry close his eyes and bite his lip. He knew that he was probably hurting him, but sinking into Harry just felt so right and Ron couldn't stop, not if his life depended on it. But then Harry was smiling at him, reaching for him and Ron knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't care less. He desperately needed to kiss Harry, and moved forward, bracing himself on his forearms as Harry wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a kiss. And then they moved together, and it was perfect, perfect, perfect...

They lay there gasping for a long moment before Ron propped himself up on his forearms again, sure he was squashing Harry.

"Bloody hell, that was..." Ron shook his head slowly. Nothing he'd done before even came close to making him feel the way he felt right at that moment.

Harry wrapped his arms around Ron and pulled him down into a hug, and Ron smiled contentedly as Harry nuzzled at his neck and whispered, "That was brilliant. I love you," before capturing Ron's lips again.

Ron wanted to tell Harry that he thought he might be in love with him, too, but he found himself getting lost in the feel of Harry's lips, so soft and warm, and he closed his eyes as they lazily kissed, just needing to rest for a second.

-----

Sunlight was knifing through a crack in the curtains when Ron opened his eyes again. It took him a few moments to remember where he was, and he smiled as recalled what had happened the night before. Harry was lying on his back next to him, snoring softly, and Ron propped himself up on his elbow and just watched him for a moment. He looked so young when he was asleep; his hair tousled, his face peaceful in repose. Ron felt an odd fluttering in his stomach as he stared at his... He frowned. His best friend? Lover? Boyfriend? Mentally wincing at the thought, he decided that he'd stick to best friend. Probably safest, too. After all, it wasn't like they could tell anyone. Well, apart from people like Blaise and Martin, obviously. He sighed, and suddenly noticed a pair of bright green eyes calmly watching him.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. You had that look on your face you get when you're trying to decide something and I didn't want to interrupt," Harry said. He raised an eyebrow, but Ron just shook his head.

"It's nothing," Ron said. "I was just thinking about things. About us."

"About last night?" Harry said with a grin on his face.

"That too," Ron said, feeling himself blush as he remembered what they'd done. Harry's grin widened, and Ron slipped an arm around him and pulled him close.

"When we... Did I hurt you?"

"You were a bit eager, that's all. I'm fine, honestly."

Ron's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

"Shower and breakfast?" Harry said. Ron nodded sheepishly. "C'mon, then. I'll wash your back for you. And anything else you'll let me get my hands on," he added with a leer.

"Pervert," Ron said with a grin.

As he followed Harry into the bathroom, he wondered if they could persuade Dobby to bring them a tray from Hogwarts. He was absolutely starving, and the massive breakfasts the elves prepared at the weekends would be perfect. He huffed softly. This was Dobby. Stopping him from bringing them more food than they could eat in a fortnight was the difficult bit.

"In you get."

Harry's voice pulled Ron from his thoughts, and he was surprised to see that Harry was already standing in the shower.

"You okay?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed. "You looked like you were miles away."

"Just thinking about breakfast," Ron said. He stepped into the shower and wrapped his arms around Harry. "I'm right here, mate, and I'm fine."

And he really was.

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