Spoonful

Harry had found himself at 12 Grimmauld Place much earlier in the summer then usual and with Hermione stuck with her family for the next month and the rest of the Weasleys consumed with other worries, Harry and Ron ended up spending most of their time together. Harry didn't mind, Ron managed to keep him sane and something close to happy in what he thought would be the worst summer of his life. If Ron had been the most important person to him before, he was the most essential person to him now.

It had become tradition for them to end each day in the kitchen. Harry felt almost safe and almost calm in those moments when it was just him, Ron and the comfortable silences they so easily shared.

As they sat together several days before Harry's birthday, Ron was being anything but silent and Harry felt anything but comfortable. Mrs. Weasley was often unable to cook or bake anything complicated or time consuming anymore but the other day as a treat to everyone she had made homemade mint ice cream. Ron had a peculiar habit of letting his ice cream almost melt and then slurping it up as it was soup. Having over indulged in it the night before Harry was content on this evening to simply watch Ron eat his. Harry wouldn't have been able to explain to anyone why he became so fixated on how Ron was eating but he soon found himself so mesmerized by it that conversing with Ron became next to impossible.

"Ginny said that Percy sent her another owl. She said that he seems like he wants to come home."

"Really."

He didn't often think of Ron as a methodical person and was surprised by how precise his movements with the spoon were. He would start by placing the spoon at the end of the bowl furthest away from his body.

"Seems to me like Ginny just wants him to want to come home. I don't know why she'd miss that stupid git but I don't really understand half the things she does anymore."

"That's horrible."

Ron would then slide the spoon across the bowel and bring it towards his body in one slow, fluid movement.

"Do you know she's already dumped Dean? She's going out with some Hufflepuff now. A bloody Hufflepuff."

"I can't believe that, Ron."

The next part was what impressed Harry the most. Ron would lift the spoon out of the bowel and let just enough ice cream drip off so that the amount left on the spoon looked level. Harry made a silent note to himself to have Ron handle all liquid measurements when Potions class resumed in the fall.

"The next thing you know she'll be bringing a Slytherin around. She'd do it too. She has no sense."

"I couldn't agree with you more."

For his next act Ron would raise the spoon to his mouth without letting anymore drip off. It was overly impressive but it was the next part that Harry had become so bafflingly addicted to observing.

"We should have seen this coming. She's always been boy crazy."

"Huh."

Ron would slowly insert the ice cream into his mouth and after loudly inhaling all of it, he would twirl his tongue around the spoon several times to make sure he had completely cleaned off the piece of silverware. Harry started to wonder if the thoughts that sprung into his mind as he watched Ron do this had always been there or if Mrs. Weasley hadn't somehow inadvertently made some enchanted dessert.

"Harry?"

The more he thought about it all the more it started to make sense. This was Ron. This was the person who had let him in, and helped him and guided him and loved him in that special Ron way from the second they had met. In mere seconds it came to make more sense to him then anything else had since Hagrid had stormed into his life. He just didn't know how he would ever make it make sense to Ron.

"Harry?"

"Of course, Ron. I completely agree."

"Agree with what? I was just trying to get your attention."

Harry blinked and took off his glasses only to put them right back on.

"You all right, Harry? You look sick."

"No. I'm not. Sick that is. I'm not sick."

Ron squinted at him and gave him the patented Weasley look of distrust.

"You're not mad I ate the rest of the ice cream are you? You said I could. I asked you. Three times."

"I'm not mad, Ron."

"Are you having those creepy You Know Who visions again? You better tell me if you are."

"No it's not that. It's nothing."

Harry stood up and walked around the table until he was standing next to Ron's chair. "You have ice cream all over your mouth."

"I do?"

Ron went to wipe his mouth on his sleeve but with trembling hands Harry stopped his arm from making contact. Ron looked up at him and something passed between them that they both knew they could never take back. Harry knew it would be up to him to be the one to let it die there or use the opportunity to change everything. He took a deep breath, listened for the sounds of anyone approaching and bent down until his lips touched Ron's.

Ron's lips were sticky and his mouth was freezing cold and tasted of nothing but the mint ice cream he had been eating. For one ridiculous moment all Harry could think about was how good it tasted and how he wished he had split the last bowel with Ron. But then his best friend's tongue tentatively entered his mouth and that thought faded into one of blissful awareness that nothing could taste or feel as good as this did. When they finally pulled apart Harry ran his tongue across his lips and felt that they had become as sticky as Ron's.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"That was bloody good ice cream."