A Fireside Chat

Harry walked into the common room, tired from a strenuous Quidditch practice. Being team captain had its advantages, but it also meant you had to work extra hard to get the rest of your players to work half as hard. And Harry’s body was feeling it.

He scanned the room for signs of Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Neville, Ginny - anyone. He didn’t see anyone straight off, but then he caught sight of his friends huddled in a corner by the fire.

“Hey guys,” Harry said, smiling broadly as he came upon them. His smile fell suddenly as he looked around at their somber faces. “What’s wrong?”

“Ron -” Ginny started, but was soon cut off.

“Don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk about it,” Ron yelled. He was sitting facing the fire, knees pulled up to his chest, chin resting on them. Harry looked around and saw Ginny patting Ron’s back reassuredly, Seamus, Dean, and Neville sitting in armchairs behind him, making it impossible for anyone to see Ron from the rest of the common room, and Hermione no where to be found.

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry asked, looking around.

“In her room,” Ginny said, looking back towards Ron.

“Did they have a fight?” Harry whispered to Seamus.

“We didn’t have a fight. Malfoy made sure of that,” Ron spat from his position by the fire. Harry looked quizzically over to the rest of them and they all shrugged. Ginny stood up and walked with Harry over to the base of the stairs, walked up a few and sat down in the stairwell. Harry followed and sat down beside her.

“What is going on?” he asked her. She only sighed and put her head in her hands.

“Malfoy,” Ginny said, raising her head to look at Harry. She shook her head sadly. “Seems our friend, Malfoy, found out a little secret about Ron.”

“A secret? What secret?” Harry asked.

“Well, I’m not quite sure how it happened, but I think Malfoy was listening in on a conversation between Ron and Hermione. Hermione supposedly pulled Ron into an empty classroom and said she wanted him to fuck her right there. Well, Ron and Hermione had been fooling around, but hadn’t had sex yet, so Ron told her no. She wanted to know why, and he said because he wasn’t ready. She was outraged and said that he was a fucking seventeen year old boy, what more did he have to be ready for. And then in a moment of sarcasm she asked him if he was gay, and he didn’t respond. Then she laughed and said she had been blind and she should have known it. She asked him how long, and he said he didn’t know and not to tell anyone, he wasn’t ready to come out. And that’s when Malfoy came out of the closet. No pun intended,” Ginny added when she saw Harry’s eyebrow raise. “He was hiding in the closet in the classroom. Why, I have no clue. But he heard everything and told everyone at dinner. See what happens when you skip dinner for Quidditch practice?” Ginny added dryly.

“Oh. My. God.” Harry shook his head in disbelief.

“I know. I can’t believe it either. It doesn’t really surprise me, though. I mean, Ron always used to play dolls with me without me having to force him,” Ginny said.

“I can’t believe - Ron did what?” Harry asked, jerking up his head in amusement.

“He used to play dolls with me. When we were kids. We used to sit in my room for hours and play dolls. He was always the best companion,” Ginny said, smiling softly.

Harry shook his head and laughed quietly. “Ron used to play with dolls? Well, this explains why he was so keen on buying those little Quidditch figurines all the time. And why he liked to cook for me when we were at the Burrow. And why he was always so interested in what everyone was wearing. And why -”

“Okay, Harry. I get the point. You saw all the signs he was gay,” Ginny interjected.

“I guess. What did everyone say?” Harry asked seriously.

“Well, no one said much. They just laughed.”

“Oh no,” Harry said putting his head down.

“Yep. They laughed him out of the Great Hall.”

“Shit. Why didn’t the professors say anything?” he asked. He ran a hand through his messy raven locks.

“They didn’t know. Draco told the Slytherin table, who started laughing and pointing, and then passed it on to the Ravenclaws, who did the same and passed it on to the Hufflepuffs, who finally passed it on the the Gryffindors, who tried not to laugh at Ron, but were having a hard time.”

“Why did they all laugh at him? Being gay isn’t that big of a deal,” Harry pointed out.

“Hello, Harry. Whoo-hoo! Earth calling Harry! Being gay is a big deal. He is seventeen, going to a small school where no one is gay. Of course it’s going to be a big deal. The wizarding world isn’t different than the muggle world in that respect.” Ginny said, patting Harry on the knee.

“But what about Percy? No one cares that he is gay,” Harry argued.

“His family doesn’t care that he’s gay. Mom and dad won’t care that Ron is gay. Hell, I don’t care that he’s gay. But society doesn’t work like that,” Ginny said, sighing.

“I’m gonna kill Malfoy,” Harry said, pounding his fist against the wall.

“First you need to get Ron out of his shell. He’s pulled himself into this shell, won’t talk to anyone, and just yells at anyone who talks to him. You’re the only one who can pull him out of it.”

“Alright. You’re right. I’ll try and talk to him.” Harry stood up and Ginny followed, but grabbed his arm before he walked down the stairs. She pulled him close to her and gathered him into a hug.

“Thank you, Harry. I’m glad Ron has you. He needs you right now. I know you’re the only one he’ll talk to,” Ginny said, placing a small kiss on Harry’s cheek.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re his best friend. And because he loves you.” And with that, Ginny turned and left Harry standing on the stairs speechless.

“Ginny!” he called out, but she had already walked into her room. He cursed silently and walked into the common room, planting himself in a corner, away from Ron and everyone else. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

What was Ginny talking about? Ron loved him? Of course Ron loved him. Harry was his best friend. But that’s not what Ginny meant, Harry knew it. He knew Ginny well enough to know that she meant that Ron loved Harry. Like, love, real love. Like, I want to spend the rest of my life with you love. And it scared the shit out of Harry that he was excited by this prospect.

Harry had been secretly questioning his own sexuality for awhile. He knew there was something wrong when he got turned on by watching his fellow teammates changing in the locker room. He started sneaking peaks at all of them in the showers, and it surprised him how much watching them shower turned him on. He liked girls too, but he liked guys equally as well.

And now the thought of Ron loving him was tearing at his mind. Harry watched him, alone and shivering by the fire, and tried to put his own feelings into place. He knew Ron was miserable, he could tell by the way his shoulders drooped ever so slightly. And before he talked to Ron, he had to know exactly how he felt - just in case Ginny was right.

Harry watched Ron’s back for what felt like days. He studied the way the fire made his red hair glow even more brightly, the way his broad shoulders sagged in despair, the way his defined muscles could be seen just so vaguely through his sweater, the way the skin of his neck was such a creamy white, so smooth, so...beautiful.

Beautiful? Since when did Ron’s neck become beautiful? Harry shook his head, but looked again at Ron, sitting all alone by the fireside. He was so beautiful, silhouetted against the light of the flames. And Harry knew at that moment that he was completely in love with Ron.

Harry stood up and looked around. The common room was deserted, except for him and Ron. Harry walked over and sat down beside him, but Ron didn’t make a move.

“It’s a little warm over here,” Harry said, turning towards Ron. Ron kept staring straight ahead into the fire. “I tried out a couple of new plays with the team today. I think we have a damn good chance of beating Slytherin next week.” Ron still didn’t respond. Harry noticed he was still shivering slightly despite the warmth of the fire, so he stood up and walked around the common room looking for a blanket of some sort. He spotted a throw blanket lying across the back of a chair and picked it up. He walked over to where Ron was sitting and draped it across his shoulders. Ron finally turned and looked at him.

“Go away.”

“What? And miss this wonderful fire and you yelling at me? Never,” Harry said with half a smile. Ron just rolled his eyes in response.

“What do you want, Harry?” Ron asked, not looking at Harry.

“For you to talk to me.”

“What about? You obviously know what happened.”

“I do. But I want to hear it from you.”

Ron sighed. “Can’t this wait or something? I’ve been through hell tonight.”

“I know. But I’m your best friend. I want to know what is going on behind those eyes of yours.”

“Well, I’m gay. Big surprise! And Malfoy took it upon himself to inform the entire school of it. And Hermione hates me.” Ron put his head in his hands.

“Hermione doesn’t hate you. And Malfoy is a dick. So you’re gay. Who cares?” Harry asked.

“Harry, did you miss something? I - am - gay.” Ron looked at him seriously. “It means I like boys, not girls. I don’t like breasts and sweet smelling flowery girls. I like rippled muscles and musky smelling guys.”

“I know what being gay means, silly. I’m not stupid,” Harry said, ruffling Ron’s hair.

“Harry, stop,” Ron said, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Ahh! What is that I see breaking through? A smile, perhaps?” Harry asked, laughing.

“I hate you, Harry. All I wanna do is sit here and be miserable. Can’t you let me have at least that?” Ron whined.

“Nope. Sorry. I can’t. It’s my duty as your best friend to make sure that you don’t have that simple luxery.” Harry shrugged his shoulders.

“Bloody hell. I still feel like shit,” Ron said.

“Yeah, well. It’s part of being a teenager. You just stay in a constant state of shittiness.”

“Well, as long as you put it like that,” Ron said, laughing.

They sat in silence for awhile, both staring into the fire, sorting out their thoughts. Harry kept casting sideways glances at Ron, trying to decide if now was the best time to tell him how he felt. Deciding that the ambience of the situation was right, he decided to speak up.

“Ron -”

“Harry -”

Both boys looked at each other and laughed, each blushing slightly.

“You first, Ron,” Harry said.

“No you, Harry. I wanna hear whatever you were going to say.”

“Alright. Here goes.” Harry took a deep breath and looked at Ron. He smiled goofily as his entire insides were set aflame by the beautiful creature sitting beside him by the fire. He looked back at the fire and began. “I know this is the wrong time, the wrong place, and the wrong everything, but I have to tell you. Ron, I am so happy you’re gay. I,” Harry paused briefly and ran a hand nervously through his hair. “I’m bi. I like guys too. I have known for awhile, but didn’t want to say anything to scare people off. I was going to tell you eventually.”

“Harry, that’s great! That means I’m not alone in this,” Ron said, breaking out into a smile.

“That’s not it,” Harry said, watching Ron’s reaction change into one of confusion. “There’s more. I am also glad you’re gay because, well. Because I love you dammit. I don’t know why or how it came to be, but I love you. You give me the flutteries, you make me smile and think things I shouldn’t think about my best friend.” Harry looked over at Ron through the corners of his eyes. “You don’t hate me, do you?”

Ron was silent. Harry turned to face him and couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. He was beginning to regret his decision when Ron reached over and grabbed his hand.

“I don’t hate you. No, I don’t hate you. I love you too, Harry. I always have. That’s why I couldn’t sleep with Hermione. I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to her, or to me. I don’t love Hermione like that. I love Hermione, but not like I love you. You are my one. With you, life is simple, love is simple. I’m just Ron. Not Ron, the younger brother of whoever. Or Ron the poor kid with hand-me-down robes. Or Ron, the Boy Who Lived’s Best Friend. I’m simply Ron. Me, no pretenses, no masks, no nothing. Just a freckled face boy with red hair and a dying adoration for his best friend.”

Ron sheepishly turned away, but Harry grabbed his face to stop him. He turned Ron’s face towards his own so he was looking him in the eye.

“Don’t turn away. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.” Harry leaned slowly over to Ron and captured his lips with his own. Ron timidly responded back, and soon found the courage to deepen the kiss. Harry wrapped his arms around Ron’s neck and slipped his tongue gently into Ron’s mouth and was greeted energetically by Ron’s tongue. With their limbs entangled, they explored each other’s mouths by the fire, getting used to the new and unfamiliar sensations of each other’s embrace.

Pulling back slowly, Ron looked into Harry’s face and smiled. “Thanks, Harry.”

“For what?” Harry asked, eyebrows creasing.

“For knowing exactly how to make me feel better.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry leaned back against the sofa and pulled Ron into his lap. Ron laid his head on Harry’s shoulder and placed the blanket around their bodies. Harry grabbed Ron’s hands and intertwined their fingers as they stared silently into the fire, just enjoying the pure pleasure of being in each other’s embraces.

“You know, we really need to send Malfoy a thank you note,” Harry said into Ron’s ear.

“Why?” Ron asked, turning his head slightly so he could look at Harry.

“Because, if the little prat wouldn’t have been a nosy little prick, we never would have found this.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “True. I guess we should send him one with Hedwig in the morning. I’m sure it’d be a nasty shock for him, realizing he didn’t ruin my life and all.”

“Yeah. I mean, he helped you after all,” Harry said, placing a kiss on Ron’s hair.

“Malfoy helped me. What’s that all about?” Ron said, chuckling softly.

“A Malfoy helping out a Weasley. What is this world coming to?” Harry asked grinning.

“I don’t know. But I’m happy with the way it’s going,” Ron said, snuggling into Harry’s embrace.

“Me too, Ron. Me too.” Harry tightened his embrace around Ron and soon they both fell asleep, content in each other’s arms by the dying embers of the fire.

The End.