Half and Half

Half and Half

"What's the matter, you cold?" Harry asked. Ron was sitting on a windowsill in their dorm room. His gaze wandered from the sky and fell onto Harry.

"Nah, actually got the night sweats. Bad dream," he muttered, turning back to the stars. Harry got up and sat on the other end of the sill. It was a cramped space, but neither of the boys cared.

It was mid-September, but the nights were getting chilly already. Very unusual for Great Britain, but with global warming and all that stuff, no one really knew anymore.

"I'm cold," Harry stated. They sat in silence. "What'd you dream, mate?"

"It was more of a memory. I was remembering the summer after 5^th year, when everyone was tense and scared." He took a deep breath. "Tempers were running high because we were all anxious for news. In the evenings Mum and Dad would usually have a glass of wine to loosen up, try to relax. Mind you, it was the cheap stuff. One night though, I accidentally knocked one of their glasses onto the carpet." He paused for a moment, wincing as he relived it. "It was the red kind, and it stained the carpet horribly. Mum blew up, started yelling, screaming, acting as if a simple 'scourgify' wouldn't take care of the problem. It was the first time in a long time that I was afraid of her. I ran up to my room afterwards, like I'd done when I was 7 and she'd scolded me for picking on Ginny, but how old I was didn't seem to matter."

Ron sighed heavily. Harry looked at him fervently, amazed that Ron was opening up to him like this. Ron and Harry were the best friends anyone could imagine, but a lot of the time Ron was still a closed book to everyone including Harry. After a minute, Ron resumed.

"Ginny was the only one left in the house that summer, you know, with Percy being gone, and Fred n George had gotten a flat above their new store. She came into my room and wrapped her arms around me. That's all it took. I let go of everything and broke down." Ron glanced nervously at his friend seated in front of him. Harry's intent gaze made him feel better.

A strange feeling came over Harry. He suddenly wanted to reach over and wrap his arms around Ron just as Ginny had done. He wanted to comfort him, because Ron never did get the comfort he deserved.

Ron wiped his cheek on his sleeve and sniffed.

"Well, so, what'd you get Hermione for her birthday tomorrow?" he asked, changing the subject quickly. Harry understood Ron's need for the subject change, and he jumped off the sill to rummage through his trunk. He pulled out a pearl necklace; each pearl gleaming like a tiny moon. Ron's eyes widened a bit.

"I hope she doesn't take this to mean more than I want it to," he said, taking a seat back in front of Ron. "It's just, she doesn't have very many pretty things, you know. And I think Hermione deserves pretty things too. She needs to feel beautiful every now and again, cause well, she is a girl." Ron sniggered slightly.

"That was very feminine of you, Harry," he poked.

"Oi, shut up, just because I show a bit of my sensitive side," he defended. Ron's eyes lit up as he chuckled. Harry smiled inwardly.

Harry being called the feminine one took Ron's mind off his bad dream. He would do anything to make Ron feel better.

They turned on the sill so that their backs now faced the outside and their legs dangled off, just barely touching the ground despite their height. The other three boys in their room were fast asleep as was to be expected. Each boy had their own silencing charm cast upon their beds due to Neville's infamous snoring. Neville had a silencing charm too, but that was for other reasons they never discussed. Silence descended upon the pair as they just sat together.

Without the talking, Ron's mind wandered back to his dream. He cursed his thoughts, wishing he could have just stayed in a better mood and then gone back to sleep. He tried to hide the single tear that made its way down his face, but Harry saw the moonlight catch it.

Harry sat frozen, not sure what to do until the same feeling came back. By a mind of its own, his arm rested itself on Ron's shoulders and pulled the redhead closer to his body. Ron hesitated a second, then found his face pressed into a warm shoulder. He threw his arms around his best mate and held on tightly. His body was desperate for the human contact.

People thought Harry was the one who was cold and distant. They thought he was the tragic hero who never received enough affection. It's one thing to have mean relatives who treated you horribly and to never know your parents. It's another thing to have a large, loving family, but still get picked on for being the youngest boy. He just missed out because he was second to youngest. Ron's parents doted on Ginny. Everyone doted on Ginny. She was the poor girl with all the older brothers. But what about Ron? Bill and Charlie were much older and almost didn't bother with him. Percy was a man all his own, and the twins had eachother. Everyone assumed Ron and Ginny were a pair. But it was never quite right. Ron loved his little sister, and was fiercely protective of her. She wasn't the right one to comfort him though. He didn't have anyone to take care of him.

Harry ran a hand up and down Ron's back, soothing him. Ron clung to him, and something yanked on his heart. He held him for what seemed like eternity until Ron let go, wiping his eyes until they were dry.

"Harry, I...," Ron started. Harry cupped Ron's chin in his hand and stared straight into his fervent eyes. They shone with years of hurt and loneliness. So Harry did the only thing he could think of that might make that hurt and loneliness go away. He shut his eyes and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Ron's. The redhead sat stock-still, completely caught off guard. And then Harry shifted his mouth, parted his lips. Ron's eyes shuttered close and put a hand behind Harry's neck, pulling him closer. He drank in all the comfort he could, hugging Harry to him as if Harry was the one hurt and not himself.

Ron understood. In that moment he understood something about life. He knew that there were varying types of love, but he'd never really thought about the differences. He realized that the differences were not things you could put into words. There was no set rules for each type. What Harry was doing wasn't wrong in the least bit. In fact, he loved Harry all the more for it, in a way he couldn't figure out.

Harry pulled away slowly, his face flushed. His mind run-a-muck, hoping he hadn't crossed any lines there. Ron was slightly dazed, and then a song popped into his head.

"I've been kissed by a rose," he blurted out suddenly. Harry cocked an eyebrow, and they both sniggered.

"Who's the feminine one now," Harry pointed out, snickering a little louder.

"Quiet, you," Ron warned, though he was smiling in an embarrassed way. He had a sudden epiphany. "You're the sun, Harry," he said. Harry sat quietly, waiting for him to elaborate. "Everyone depends on you to live, to save them, to warm them." Ron was puzzled by his own words. "That didn't make one lick of sense, did it?" he inquired, laughing at himself.

"No, it didn't. But now we know who the poet is," Harry snorted.