Finding the Difference

Finding the Difference

It had been coming for days or weeks or months, maybe years? Yes, since platform nine and three-quarters, when we met. Looking back, I can see it was always there between Harry and me. I just didn't see it, or know how the change would come or when.

You must understand that, the intensity of my relationships with my siblings is such that, no matter how far or long we are separated, we are still thick as thieves after ten minutes back together. Even Bill and Charlie, who I spent years seeing only every once in a great while, are like that with me. So, finding that and more in Harry was not startling to me. I didn't know how different we were. I didn't know that other people just didn't have friendships like that.

Then puberty hit and I realized that I was attracted to more than his personality. I looked at him across a crowded breakfast table (he was all rumpled and sleepy from being up late, working with Professor Lupin on his Patronus) and he looked like . . . forever. The amazing thing is that that didn't startle me either. Knowing that I loved him as more than a friend, was not so much a revelation, as a coming aware of something I already knew.

So, here we are, six years after that morning in the Great Hall, sharing rooms again, here at Hogwarts, where we both work. Harry is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and I have taken Madam Hooch's old duties teaching Flying and Quidditch. Still, we've never had that moment, the transition from friends to lovers, the moment that makes all the difference. I had held back during the War, knowing that Harry needed things as uncomplicated as possible. He knew I would always be at his side, no matter what. The rest of it could wait.

Now, Voldemort has been gone nearly half a year and most of the Death Eaters either died in the War or have been arrested. Our lives have settled into a quiet rhythm. Yet, I still feel Harry holding back. I've been a bit itchy for some time now, but every time I think he might be ready for me to kiss him, he jumps back from me in both body and spirit. So, I wait. I know if I wait long enough, it will happen. It must, else all we've overcome in the last few years will have been for nothing. What else could we have been fighting for but the chance to be happy?

It is mid-afternoon on a Saturday in mid-December. I've just settled myself mid-couch with the Quibbler and some Pumpkin Pasties for a cuppa. I hear Harry at the door, finally back from his lunch with Remus. They meet several times a month, just to keep in touch. Remus is the closest thing to family Harry has left, besides me and mine, of course. Sometimes I join them, but today I had a bit of Christmas shopping to do, so I went to Hogsmeade instead.

Harry comes in, I glance up, smile and return to my reading. He takes off his cloak and robes, leaving him in just his trousers and a concert T-shirt with Celestina Warbeck singing on it. It is well worn with a few spots nearly threadbare. All the cleaning charms that have been used on it have somehow disrupted the singing charm and now Celestina only sings the odd syllable every now and again.

Harry retrieves a teacup from the kitchen and sits down next to me, and then helps himself to tea and two of my pasties. We sit in comfortable silence. When the tea is gone, he leans back and slides in very close to me, nudging me with his shoulder. I take it as affection and give him a half-smile before starting to read about the Ministry conspiracy to hide magical experimentation on squibs from the Wizarding public. Harry nudges me again, giving me an invitingly knowing look that makes me quite itchy. I smile and nod, but return to my ridiculous news article. I'm not sure what he's playing at, but I'm not betting on it being what I want it to be, so I'm going to wait until he gives me a larger hint.

Another nudge and I just fold the Quibbler in my lap and pull a face at him that plainly says, 'What are you going on about, Harry?' He smiles rather larger than my annoyed face should have inspired and slips his fingers round my wrist, pulling my arm up and over his shoulders. He snuggles in, reaching across our bodies and stroking his hand down my cheek, across my jaw, down my neck and over my chest to settle lightly, just above my navel. I watch his hand move in small enticing circles over my belly. When I look up, he is gracing me with a gaze that is love and sex and promise all in one lazy, glowing smile. I exhale hard 'cause he's really ready this time. Oh, do I itch! I lean towards him and let my eyelids flutter shut. I know my target by feel alone. Sweet, pumpkin-tea breath warms my lips before he says, "I'm still surprised at some of the differences between the Wizarding and Muggle Worlds."

I open one astonished eye. "What?" He hasn't moved away from me, just angled his head back to look me in the eyes.

"You've always been my guide on that front, haven't you? Anything I didn't know or understand because of my Muggle upbringing- you had the answers."

"Er . . . yes." I can't figure where he's going and his hand has strayed to my left nipple, rubbing it roughly through the fabric of my shirt, which is not allowing me proper brain function.

"Makes my wonder why I had to find out from Lupin." He leans further back, still close, but not snuggled, not fondling anymore.

"Find out what, Harry?" I'll do anything to get his hand back on me, get that mouth near mine again.

"Well, as we usually do, Remus and I ended up talking about Sirius. He told me today that one of his biggest regrets was that he didn't marry Sirius when they were young, before he went to Azkaban. They had talked about it, but decided to wait until after Sirius had finished his Auror training. He never did get to finish."

"Harry, I didn't know. How could I have told you when I wasn't born yet either?" I don't see his logic.

"Not that." He smiles. "Muggles don't let two men get married. There are even places where certain er . . . acts are illegal."

"Acts?" What is he talking about? Oh! Acts. Blimey, how could that be? "Truly?"

"Yes. So, why did you never tell me? Or show me?" His voice is suddenly thick and deep.

"I . . . er, Harry, I just thought you needed time. Er . . . things to be simple. The last thing I wanted to do was distract you when you were facing V-voldemort," I stammer.

"You think us being together would have made me weaker?" He strokes his fingers along my cheek again. "Ron, your friendship was the only thing that gave me the strength to do what I had to to finally end the War. How could your love have made me anything but stronger?"

"Harry, I . . ."

"No, don't. Let's not waste anymore time." Then he kisses me long and sure and hard. Soon I'm pinned back against the arm of the couch, while he learns my mouth with all the intensity he usually focuses on seeking a snitch or defeating a dark wizard. He pulls away from me and, with gleaming eyes and passion-bruised lips, he whispers, "Let's do it. Let's not wait."

"Bloody hell, yeah!" I push him up and off me, following him quickly and rejoining our mouths, as I start walking him backwards towards his bedroom.

"Wait, Ron. I didn't mean that." I stop dead. He's killing me here. Talk about keeping a bloke hanging on.

"But, you said . . ." I whinge, yes whinge, I'm not proud.

"Yes I . . . Yes! Ron, we will do that. I just meant that what I want to do is get married."

"What now? Couldn't we have sex first?" All my thinking is happening in my trousers. Luckily, Harry is a man too. He just laughs.

"Yes, we can have sex first. I mean, let's not let anything delay the wedding. Life gets short without giving you notice, you know." He's a bit somber by the end of that sentence, somber but determined.

Something clicks into place in my mind, just like that morning over toast and marmalade, when I knew he was forever, and I say what he needs to hear, what we both need to hear, "We'll do it Christmas Eve at the Burrow. I'm fairly sure we could get the new Minister of Magic to officiate. He'll be there anyway, Mum would never let him work on holiday, leader of Wizarding England or not."

Harry's eyes light up as he says, "Yes, that's perfect." He looks down, a bit puzzled, looks back up at me with mischief in his eyes and says, "Want to have that sex now?" I grin and reclaim his mouth.