Harry Potter 1. Sick

Chapter 1 – Sick

"Ron? Are you alright?" No, Ron wasn't alright, lately he felt like he was never going to be anything but terrible as long as he lived; but he sat up a little, eyes heavy as he grimaced and replied.

"Yeah, I think…" His voice was a little raspy. "I'm just really tired. Didn't sleep much last night." Harry walked over to his friend, sat on his bed and felt his forehead, biting his lip.

"You are a bit hot." Ron forced himself not to dwell on the possible double entendre and sank sleepily back into his bed a little. His best friend looked down on him mildly worried with sympathy in his eyes. "And on a Hogsmeade visit day? Bad luck." Nodding vaguely, hoping Harry would leave him alone soon, Ron murmured a vague response and was relieved when his friend sighed and stood, promising to bring him back some of his favourite sweets. Soon the dormitory became quiet again, everyone having already left. Closing his eyes, Ron sighed heavily. He hated lying to Harry, but it was the only way to- The door opened. He opened his eyes a fraction to see Hermione striding towards him as if on a mission.

"Hermione? I'm sorry I can't co-" She interrupted him curtly.

"You don't have to act for me Ron." He coughed unconvincingly.

"What do you mean?"

"Please, this is me we're talking about, I know the real reason you don't want to go to Hogsmeade is because you don't want to see Harry with-" It was his turn to interrupt her, his voice normal now, pleading.

"Hermione! Please…" His sad eyes dampened her irritation and she sighed.

"Ron, I know it's hard. But, well, they seem to be really strong, I think-"

"I'm just going to have to get used to it. I got it, I know." She said nothing after his little outburst, seeing his shift in emotion. He twisted the sheets between his fingers and said softly. "I love them both so much. In the end, I think they're perfect for each other." He spoke with a little more force suddenly. "If my little sister has to even be with anyone-" Hermione tilted her head, chastening.

"Ron, you know how-"

"Yeah, yeah, she's happiest when she's with him. I know." He looked down, avoiding her sympathetic gaze, his copper hair slightly damp from sticking his head under the covers to make his forehead hotter. For a moment, both were lost in their own thoughts; Ron mourning the impossibility of the situation and Hermione feeling sorry for his position in all of it. She breathed deeply as she reached for his hand.

"Ron-" Head snapping up when he recognised the tone, he narrowed his eyes slightly, faux-cheery voice harsh in the quiet dormitory.

"Bring me back some Bertie Botts won't you?" Realising she would get nowhere, she nodded sadly.

"Course. You get some rest now." Smiling a little he nodded and settled back down as she left, heart heavy.

Ron gave it a good twenty minutes before he dared venture out of bed, slip on some muggle clothes and leave the Gryffindor tower. Navigating the empty corridors easily he came to a particular classroom and darted inside. It was empty so he sat on a nearby desk and waited. Stomach bubbling with shame about lying to Harry and full of nerves, he bit his left thumbnail distractedly; why did he have to do this again? It's not like he couldn't stand not to do it. He could stop these meetings whenever he wanted, he could go without them. He just didn't want to. They made his pain more manageable, if a bit messier. The door opened and a lithe blond slipped in, reptilian smile uncoiling the pale lips as he advanced almost hungrily towards the waiting boy.

Harry grinned like an idiot. He always felt a rush from holding her hand, her warm and smooth palms against his made him smile. They sat in Honeydukes, a little table near the back. Despite his previous disaster in that place, Ginny made it bearable, made it fun; she always found a way to blast away the bad memories with near-uncontrollable laughter. She had such energy to her, her eyes sparkling along to her motor-mouth; much like Ron. Harry blinked hard, no, he had to stop comparing them. Ginny wasn't a replacement of her brother. The raven-haired boy felt a break in conversation and felt himself slipping into familiar thoughts. Who was he kidding? Being with Ginny was the closest he could get to being with Ron in public, the way he really wanted to be with him. Whenever he was with Ginny, his eyes would always wonder over her brother, tall and cheeky and warm and kind and gentle and sexy- Harry jerked back to the café as Ginny began talking again and tried to concentrate hard on her comments on the latest Quidditch game to calm down his growing erection.

Ron felt the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as he heard the unmistakeable gasps of pleasure from the body beneath him. The Slytherin's crotch jerked against his head and his back arched as Ron played with his balls. He had to admit that the first few times he'd sucked the blond off had been a bit strange and uncomfortable, but Malfoy was a good teacher and when he'd got some practice he actually started to enjoy doing it. In a wrong way. It was completely wrong, what he was doing, it went against his principles and made him feel nauseous if he lingered on it too long. He felt a kind of sick satisfaction when he made the other boy come, a rush in his gut that pumped his heart furiously with an energy he couldn't really label. Malfoy clenched his fists in Ron's hair as he came and the Gryffindor forced himself to swallow, knowing the Slytherin had the power to punish him if he didn't. Licking his lips reluctantly as he drew back, Ron closed his eyes and his breathing hitched as the favour was repaid.

Hermione sat in The Three Broomsticks with the Patil twins and some Gryffindor boys trying to appear interested in whatever it was the group was talking about. She had seen Harry and Ginny peel off from the group and head for the romantic café; they'd looked so happy. Biting her lip she thought about those sad blue eyes pleading to her earlier. She'd known about Harry and Ron for a while and had accepted their feelings for each other, well, Ron's feelings. During the summer she'd overheard the two arguing about Harry asking Ginny out and another time saw them kissing behind the tool shed at the bottom of the garden at the Burrow. Ron had confessed almost immediately when questioned and out had come concerns about Harry's intentions regarding Ginny, worries that Ron would be pushed aside and guilt for not being happy for the two. She had tried to reassure Ron all she could, but had stopped short of talking to Harry, even letting him know that she knew; Ron had insisted that Harry would not take it well, hinting that Harry had asked Ron not to tell anyone, including Hermione, about their relationship.

Hermione wondered if Ginny suspected her boyfriend's feelings for her brother. No, she couldn't have; Ginny wasn't the type to keep her thoughts to herself… apart from unrequited love. That was another question. Did she really love Harry or was it just still lingering feelings from her crush? She hadn't talked to her about it for ages, and hadn't talked about it to Harry either, maybe it was time to do some investigations… Knowing she'd reach no conclusions until she'd done some digging, she went back the conversation on her table and her Butterbeer.

The spent red-head managed to get back into bed a mere ten minutes before the Gryffindors returned. Harry kissed Ginny sweetly on the cheek before climbing the stairs to the dormitory. He put a bag of sweets on Ron's bedside table before sitting on the bed again, hand on the slightly sweaty forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Ron faked waking up and managed to smile weakly as he looked up at those glittering eyes.

"Better, thanks." The room was noticeably quiet. It was usually quite noisy between the five of them, even in the middle of the night. Smiling back, Harry conjured a cloth from thin air and wetted it a little, pressing it against Ron's forehead.

"There, better?" The invalid nodded softly before he blurted, stomach fit to burst.

"How was your date?" He couldn't hide the bitterness. Harry looked away to the bag of sweets on the bedside table, beginning slowly.

"Ron…"

"I know, I'm sorry." Ron whispered quickly, genuinely sorry for being unable to contain himself. Gently, Harry leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on the clammy forehead.

"I'm sorry too." Ron knew what was happening, but he just couldn't help but fall for it, again; shivering at Harry's soft caress he pulled himself up into an aching kiss. The raven-head braced himself on the headboard and pushed his other hand up his lover's neck and into his red hair, as he opened Ron's mouth with his hungry lips. He felt Ron's hands on his back as both of them breathed heavily, bodies itching to inch closer. Footsteps interrupted them, they always did. Both sprang apart, Harry striding over to his own bed whilst Ron pulled the covers over himself and curled up, wincing slightly as he felt where the Slytherin had made his mark earlier. Who was he kidding? He couldn't resist either of them and what they offered; he wasn't even sure if he deserved more than what he could get. Sighing, he closed his eyes and begged Merlin for sleep.


	2. Hidden Lovers

Chapter 2 – Hidden Lovers

Harry lay in bed staring at the canopy. He didn't want anyone to know about his sexuality. That was the only reason he was with Ginny. It was a terrible reason and he would probably end up hurting her, but there it was. He felt terrible about it; every time bitterness flashed in those beautiful blue eyes or hurt twisting the strong features of his best friend he was harshly reminded. No, he wasn't gay, he was straight… He loved Ginny, he loved every bit of her, her spunkiness, her crackling eyes lighting up when she told a joke, her soft skin, her fiery locks and the way her dainty hands would tease him as her naughty tongue licked just below his right ear- No, Harry clenched his fists in his sheets, that was what Ron did, Ginny didn't, she'd never, she hadn't found that particular spot yet. She didn't even know about it. No one did. Except Ron.

He tried to convince himself that it was Ginny he really wanted, he was normal just like every other guy in the dorm, in the House, in the whole school, he was really just like them. Except…Ron was different, he was just...he had only been an experiment…he- It was useless, even in his own head. He felt an irresistible attraction to his best friend, merely the thought of those firm pink lips brought shivers up and down his spine. Whenever he saw those deep blue eyes and that fiery hair, shorter and wilder than his sister's, broad shoulders and sinuous arms, tight arse and strong legs he just couldn't control his hungry lips and wondering hands itching to cover every inch of that perfect body. There was no compare to the safety he felt in those strong arms, the warmth and comfort he drew from that firm torso beneath his. The joy he could feel at hearing a snappy one-liner, a moody sarcastic remark or a hilarious story; Ron was definitely the funniest, happiest person he knew, the one who could merely nudge his shoulder with a sympathetic smile and a cheesy pick-up line to drag him from a dark mood. No one understood him like that tall red-head, they would talk for hours or just simply sit and be themselves . He felt none of those exquisite feelings when joking or fooling around with his girlfriend and he cursed himself. Why had his heart gone and mixed up his feelings towards two of the most important people in his life?

Wincing as he sat up, Ron shifted onto his thigh and reached for some potion in the top drawer of his bedside table, he always kept some handy to sooth aches and pains from his little meetings. Listening intently for any hint of detection as he applied it, he tried not to think about the tender and meaningful kiss he'd shared with Harry the night before, but Harry and his slightly coarse fingers were never far from his mind, especially when he was rubbing a sensitive area. It was an infuriating problem because it could happen anywhere at any time; waking up, at breakfast, in lessons, sitting outside on the grass, Quidditch practice and especially in his dreams. Ron knew that every teenage boy had these kinds of troubles but he was sure that none of them had them because of another boy, let alone their best friend; someone who was constantly close but unreachable. Harry was the person who understood him the best, who knew all his secrets – bar one – but he was also the person that Ron couldn't tell his insecurities to about their relationship, the hopeless obsession he had with being with Harry and the devastating guilt he felt at wanting it. He pictured Harry sleeping in his mind's eye, able to hear heavy breathing from his lover's bed, and imagined that messy black hair splayed on the pillow, dark eye lashes against a slightly tanned face and those supple lips. His treacherous hips bucked upwards, breaking him out of his dark thoughts. Snorting breathily, almost disgusted at his crotch's prerogative, he put down the potion and got up to go and take care of it in the bathroom.

Later that morning in Potions class, the two lovers were observed by the third. Potions was never boring, one of Malfoy's best subjects, the blond was always engaged. If it wasn't in the lesson then in taunting his fellow classmates; the thrill of earning a growl from the weasel or a sharp retort from the pathetic hero was only dwarfed by the reduction of points from their stupid house or even, if he was lucky, a detention for one of them. That particular day they were learning how to brew the Body Growth potion. It made the drinker taller, broader or fatter, depending on the balance of ingredients; it was very complicated and took a lot of concentration to master it, but Draco was not on form, his eyes constantly slipping away from the recipe and over to a mumbling red-head across the room. From his position across the room he could see the long nose and pale face under the even messier than usual hair, sticking out from the hunched back and heavy shoulders. Something was definitely on the boy's mind but the Slytherin didn't dwell on anything the red-head could be thinking, instead he tried to suppress the shivers caused by that dirty Gryffindor's body. Thinking about those sinuous hands running up and down his body, those strong arms crushing him into the heated skin he shifted in his seat and crossed his legs. Draco had always considered himself in control of his emotions and had prided himself on his self-restraint but…lately he'd been letting his lust out too much in public. He blinked furiously and turned away, back to the incomprehensible recipe. A few minutes later he was back to staring at the red-head under his lashes and saw that his lover had shifted forwards so the Slytherin caught sight of the raven-haired saint. If only the little 'saviour' knew that he was fucking his lapdog, he smirked at the thought; if he wasn't concerned about concealing his sexual preferences he'd rub it right in the little git's face. Switching his gaze back to his fuckbuddy he let his lips curl slightly as he felt that lightness in his chest whenever he thought about their rendezvous. He really enjoyed ravishing the fiery blood traitor, their blood feud only increasing the sick pleasure. Shaking his head he turned back to his potion, repeating the ingredients fiercely in his head to try and avoid an embarrassment linked to his earlier smutty thoughts.

Hermione sighed heavily, did she have to do everything herself? Having noticed Harry and Ron both deep in thought during potions and then Ron avoiding looking at Harry and Ginny holding hands during lunch, she decided that enough was enough. It hadn't been her place to interfere up until then but no longer. All this secrecy and angst was tainting the time spent with her dearest friends; she just wanted everyone to be happy. Happily, she saw Ron up ahead as she was thinking of how to help him. Gritting her teeth she picked up her speed and followed him. He came to a classroom and slipped inside, puzzled, Hermione crept up to the door and listened in.


	3. Plaguing Doubts

Chapter 3 – Plaguing Doubts

Hermione gasped. She couldn't believe it. Ron in an abandoned classroom, making out, with…Malfoy! Blinking furiously she leapt away from the room and dashed down the hallway trying to get the sounds out of her head. Oh why did she have to follow Ron to try and talk to him? Why couldn't she have left it till later? Still running, she didn't even know where she was heading until she saw the Fat Lady. Ignoring the questions she panted the password and clambered into the Common Room, trying to control her breathing as she flung herself into an empty chair by the fire. Wow. What? Her mind still tried to reason itself out of the inevitable conclusion. Ron. With Draco. Those sounds. She shuddered. What…how? Oh, she'd only wanted to talk to Ron, she hadn't known she'd witness…that. Her hands tried to distract her mind by pulling out some books and opening one on her lap though her eyes refused to cooperate, staring into the fire vacantly. The flames flickered together and apart snaking upwards and jumping down again, reds melting into oranges changing to yellow and then black. What was this thing Ron was doing and what did it mean for him and Harry?

"Hermione? What's wrong?" Jerking out of her thoughts, Hermione felt panic as she saw that flaming head of hair on top of worried blue eyes. She couldn't look him in the eye, cheeks blushing fiercely. That had certainly been a quicky. Her stomach squirmed and she knew she had to get it straight in her head so she plunged right in.

"I know." He missed the weight of her tone, eyebrows raised and a grin on his face.

"Everything? Yeah, I know." He settled into the seat next to hers and held his bag in his lap, waiting for her to explain, which she did haltingly.

"No, I know about you and…" She trailed off, unable to continue, hand clenching the arm rest tightly. Ron had already paled, assuming the worst and reluctantly she confirmed it, whispering. "Malfoy." They both shuddered, Ron as red as Hermione. They looked at the floor between them, in awkward dragging silence. Then Ron sighed and unable to further bite her lip she blurted under her breath. "What were you thinking?" Looking around him at the other people in the Common room, Ron stood and beckoned, leading Hermione up to his dorm. They both sat on his bed and after briefly looking at Harry's bed, Ron turned to Hermione and tried to explain.

"It's…well it's…" The silence weighed heavily on them again, amplifying their breaths and the scratch as Ron fiddled with the strap of his bag. "It's not anything really. Well, it's something it's…" He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's just a 'fling'." Hermione shook her head as if to un-hear the confirmation of her suspicion, there was no way…they were sworn enemies!

"A fling? With Draco Mal-" A strangled noise from his throat stopped her incredulous rant. Doing it was bad enough he didn't want to hear it out loud; especially not from Hermione of all people. Oh Gods, she must think he's sick. He turned to her slightly, voice low and shaky.

"Look, I know it's not…it's…I shouldn't be doing it. But-" Looking at Harry's bed he sighed and through her condemning silence told her the bare truth. "It helps me forget about…about Harry." He chanced a look up to her face and saw her expression frozen in the stirrings of horror before her eyebrows lowered and her mouth closed. He sighed, closing his eyes to accept his exile. "I just want to feel wanted." Hermione's eyes softened completely and she pulled her friend into a fierce hug, half-crying.

"Oh Ron!" Relieved both at her sympathy and to have finally told his most shameful secret, Ron let out a choked sob, wrapping his arms around her small frame finding immeasurable comfort in her embrace. Hermione closed her eyes, fighting the tears that were wearing down her thin defences. She would not cry, she would not cry. Ever since Pavarti and Lavender had both started going out with guys she'd been looking around wondering what it was that stopped her from getting any offers. She tried not to think about silly things like that but hearing Ron almost whisper his same desire for love she realised, it wasn't childish to be wanted. It was painful to be left unwanted, to be passed over for someone else. In that moment, she would have accepted anything Ron had done to escape that aching pain, she would have forgiven him anything.

Malfoy. Harry shifted his bag higher on his shoulder, feeling a little warier around his nemesis without his best friend as back up. But then again, the Slytherin was on his own as well. If there was a fight, Harry was fairly confident he could take the little slime ball. The blond saw him too as they approached each other in the corridor and Harry tried to ignore him but was frozen by a calculated sneer.

"Where's your boyfriend Potter?" Flinching, Harry's mind went blank in shock. How did he…? Did he really know? Coughing slightly he glared back and snorted, trying to act like he wouldn't even respond to such a weak jab. "Trouble in paradise?" He carried on walking and didn't hear Malfoy follow him. Turning a corner his shoulders collapsed down in the release of tension and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. Malfoy didn't know anything. He had just thrown out a random insult, he had no idea that he'd hit a weak point. Still feeling nervous, Harry raced to the Gryffindor tower, his stomach dropping further with each step.

Sitting in the Common Room after a good cry with Ron, Hermione was deep in thought. A familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see little white teeth biting a rosy lip.

"Here, come upstairs with me." Very aware of the similarity to the other confessional tone she'd heard earlier, Hermione wondered what Ginny would divulge. Once settled, Ginny rubbed her neck and said distractedly.

"I just…I just don't know what it is." Hermione frowned, lost. Seeing this, the red-head breathed deeply, now focused. "I don't know if what I have with Harry is just us being together, or us being friends with, added stuff." Now understanding, Hermione wasn't sure what to think, her mind still trying to cope with Ron's love life. She decided to try a technique she'd overheard the other girls in her dorm using.

"Well, think about Harry, picture him in your mind. Got it?" Ginny closed her head, paused and then nodded. "How would you describe him?" -

"Quiet, well, quieter than the other guys I know…Erm, thoughtful, and awkward in a cute way…" She frowned. "He's really quiet actually, thinking about it." Without opening her eyes, she went on. "Lately we don't talk about much, I talk and he kind of just sits there nodding and I know he's not concentrating, he's thinking about Quidditch or Ron." The brown-eyed girl was suddenly alert.

"Ron?" Opening her eyes, the red-head looked at her friend, looking annoyed and exasperated.

"I don't know what is going on with them, but something is definitely happening, it's so annoying! I just want Harry to pay attention to me everyone once and a while!"

"Ginny, come on it's not like he ignores you!" -

"Well, okay so he doesn't 'ignore' me, but I just don't feel like it's enough anymore." She breathed out and shrugged, fiddling with a loose thread on her jumper. Aware that she had the happiness of several people in her slender hands, Hermione chose her words carefully.

"It sounds like you need to talk to him and figure out what's best for the both of you, what you both really want." Nodding, Ginny looked up and gave a gentle, thankful smile and as Hermione left, she had her fingers firmly crossed.

He found Ron alone in the dormitory, lounging on his bed reading the Quidditch Weekly. His relaxed pose only irritated an already hysterical Harry. Panic written all over his face, he almost leapt at his reclining friend yelling.

"What did you say? Who did you tell?" At this commotion Ron sat up, confused and concerned.

"What are you talking about?" Harry didn't take his eyes off his best friend's face as he hissed.

"Malfoy!"Ron flinched. Harry saw. For a moment, they were trapped in each other's shock before panic took over and Harry began pacing erratically as Ron spluttered.

"Harry, I-"

"You told him didn't you?"

"No, I swear I haven't said anything to anyone!" Ron's stomach twisted slightly as he thought of Hermione, but pushed it away, she didn't count, he needed to tell her, he needed to let it all out to someone. Harry didn't stop pacing, Ron left stunned on his bed, caught between being indignant and afraid as he tried to decipher his friend's fierce mutters and interject. Finally Harry snorted dismissively and flung himself into bed. Ron stared, hurt, as his love pulled his curtains shut abruptly and twisted his mouth as he did the same; tired and angry and incalculably sad.


	4. Slap Across The Face

Chapter 4 – Slap Across The Face

Harry couldn't even look at his apprehensive lover as they got dressed and sat down at breakfast. He was trying not to make it obvious but failing to care too much about whatever Hermione would preach to them about being friends and getting along. Painfully aware of the numerous sideways glances he was sent by the blue-eyed boy beside him, he snorted and ate some more porridge which looked as miserable as he felt; underneath all his anger was just tiredness. He couldn't be angry with Ron long, he just couldn't stand not being with him in any capacity; even if Ron ran round the school shouting 'Harry Potter is gay' he'd still forgive him relatively quickly. He missed looking for quick, precious moments to squeeze Ron's hand or fall into a broom cupboard for a quick make-out session, or even, if they were lucky, a few hours to explore each other passionately and with such awe and admiration. Harry sighed, he couldn't remember the last time they'd snuck up to the dorm room and placed multiple charms before ravishing each other. Despite everything he told himself he missed that intimacy. He couldn't deny any longer what he needed from Ron, all he could do was resent it. Swallowing more tasteless porridge he tried to listen to what Hermione was saying.

Hermione cornered Ron in an empty corridor after Potions and he cracked pretty quickly, telling her everything whilst avoiding her worried eyes and staring at his fingers that were fiddling with the bottom of his jumper. She called his name and he looked up automatically before ducking his eyes down again, shame-faced, still feeling guilty about nearly everything. They didn't have long before their next lesson but Hermione did her best to reassure him that everything would work out, wracking her brains for some instant solution she knew wouldn't come. When the bell went they walked in relative silence, each lost in directionless thoughts and impossible solutions.

"Harry!" Ginny could tell from the look on his face that she wasn't going to get much from him, if anything. He frowned deeper and didn't even bother to mutter a reply, carrying on walking. Following him, arms crossed across her chest she snapped at him relentlessly. "Why aren't you talking to me?" Ignoring Ginny had never worked, she would just go on and on until you cracked or managed to escape and Harry was not planning on cracking.

"Hungry Hippogriffs." They had reached the Fat Lady, Ginny's frustration peaked. "Harry I'm your girlfriend!" She didn't miss his slight cringe and felt more irritated. "Or am I?" The two stared, a little shocked at that, eyes wide and mouths open. Ginny felt a thrill of fear as she saw her boyfriend consider the question and she suddenly saw it happen, she saw him move those quivering lips and dump her. Harry choked a little, his mind a blank chaos. Blinking furiously, his lover's sister turned from him and ran through the portrait as he lifted a hand after her uselessly.

Even though he felt a little better from Hermione's rational reassurances, Ron still needed a hit of…well, Malfoy. As always, the Slytherin seemed to be able to sense when he was being looked for and it wasn't long before he was pulled roughly into a cupboard. For a fleeting moment he imagined raven hair and steel glasses on the end of those insistent fumbling hands but wasn't that surprised by the slick blond hair and hard eyes. Forcing himself to scrub his best friend's face out of his head he gasped as a quick tongue teased the shell of his ear and soon he was squirming against the cool wood, pulling and scratching and rutting and panting.

Breathless, Ron felt the other boy's weight shift off him and got up slowly trying to hold on to the afterglow for as long as possible before the guilt and disgust began to set in. He bent down to pull up his pants and trousers and then reached for his shirt, not even noticing what his 'lover' was doing. Malfoy surprised him by snapping suddenly.

"He's fucked you hasn't he?" Fear flooding his insides, Ron turned, shirt in hand, to look at the suddenly irate blond, desperately trying to stay calm and think of a way out of what he suspected was coming.

"Who?"

"Potter!" He spat viciously, stepping closer. Ron shrank into the wall, stomach tumbling to the floor like his dropped shirt as his mind failed him spectacularly.

"No, don't, don't be r-ridiculous!" Eyes flaring and teeth bared Draco stepped forward and back-handed Ron across the face. Hard. Anger replacing fear Ron pushed the scrawny git roughly away and relished the violent scuffle that ensued, feeling his muscles fizz with bundled up energy. They banged each other against the walls in the tight space ending up squashed on the floor, the boys rolled back and forth, hands around each other's necks before Draco choked out.

"Don't lie, I know he did!" It was the return of shock that stilled Ron long enough for the blond to slam him against the wall, one hand wrenching back his fiery locks as the other squeezed his windpipe maliciously. He scrabbled with the hand around his neck, eyes shining with panic and naked fear that his and Harry's secret would be revealed, that everyone should know what Harry tried so hard to keep hidden, so hard he had cut ties with the source of it. Bitter and numb, Ron let Draco push him a final time before sneering and stalking away, a shaking hand to his neck as he shivered from the release of tension. There was no doubt that Draco knew, or was in a position to make things awkward even if he wasn't sure or didn't have any evidence. Now Ron would have to just keep him appeased for as long as possible, he groaned, maybe forever. Trying to melt into the cold hard wall against his bare back, Ron scrunched up his face and rubbed it with one hand. He had to keep Harry's secret, he had to.

"Harry." He looked up in confusion as he had heard a stern voice saying his name…oh dear. Hermione looked down on him, hands on hips. Harry groaned, she had no idea what his and Ron's fight was about but he knew she was about to guess and force them to make up anyway; in addition to that whole drama he was still reeling from his fight with Ginny earlier. What was it with him and the Weasley's? Was it even a fight though? He had actually considered ending it with Ginny. The thought scared him; but at the same time it had felt freeing, a complete relief. Maybe he and Ginny had gone as far as they were meant to go, she'd surely implied that by her challenge, she'd suggested it in the first place. Snapping out of his garbled reasoning he scrabbled for a reasonable explanation and was relieved to find she was waiting for him to speak first. It was late and the Common Room was all but deserted, the quiet pressing down on him.

"Look-"

"It's not just between you and Ron, Harry." He blinked, wondering how she had known he'd say that. Grumbling he considered the freaky sixth sense girl's had added to Hermione's uber-intelligence he shrugged that unimportant question off, still without a plausible explanation. Then again, maybe he didn't have to explain, maybe he could just apologise and then Hermione would be appeased and wouldn't ask any more questions. He had been planning on apologising anyway, concluding that he had overreacted to an empty jab from that slimy ferret. He sighed and made a 'surrender' face, much to Hermione's relief. The pair looked up when the portrait swung open and a dishevelled Ron entered. Feeling two hard eyes on him Harry stood and approached his…his…

"Ron." There was no anger or bitterness in those blue eyes, just a kind of fatigue Harry had never seen there before. Even more regretful he swallowed. "I'm sorry." To his infinite surprise his best friend, his love, nodded softly and replied without hesitation.

"Me too." So many thoughts swirled around his head, but he couldn't say any of them in front of Hermione and the stranglers in the Common Room. Namely, what did Ron have to be sorry about? Ignoring the approval noises from behind him, Harry looked closer at his best friend's face, sensing something definitely wrong though unable to say exactly what. He barely registered the quick conversation after that and lying in bed later he thought it over again. Rubbing his forehead he thought that Ron's apology was possibly just an automatic response. He thought that his red-headed friend would be at least a little resentful because of the accusation and if he really had been forgiving then he would have reverted back to his cheery self. But Ron was none of those things. He looked like he was in shock, trapped in his own head, empty almost. He briefly considered sneaking up and slipping into his friend's bed to whisper another, more heartfelt apology and try to find out what was really wrong, but something held him back. Wrapping himself tightly in his duvet he closed his eyes and tried to imagine his lover's strong arms around him.


	5. Reeling

Chapter 5 – Reeling

"Look Harry, I know you're being a good friend and whatever but can we please stop talking about my brother?" Blinking, Harry looked at Ginny properly, having been drawn rudely away from his analysis of Ron's recent odd behaviour. He frowned, resenting her tone.

"I'm just worried about him, aren't you?" She raised an eyebrow as if to remind him of who she was and he shrugged as she changed the topic. That morning Harry had apologised to her before breakfast, citing his confusion over the fight with Ron for anything he'd implied the day before and she'd forgiven him. Things were still tense between them; nothing having really been resolved, but they still kept up appearances. It seemed to Harry that their relationship was just all show those days. He still wondered why she'd asked him if she really was his girlfriend. Did she know? Hermione often said that girls had a kind of intuition which made it easier to work people out, to discover hidden feelings and undertones. Had Ginny worked it all out? It was possible. But she hadn't said anything. That was the strongest thought he had; Ginny never liked to keep secrets, she was all about airing grievances, no matter the possible embarrassment.

When she left for dinner he sighed, his mind almost automatically switching back to her brother. Her dear brother. How could she not be as concerned as he was? There was definitely something wrong with Ron, he hadn't cracked a convincing smile since before they'd had their…confrontation. All throughout the lessons of that day he had just sat morosely, twirling his quill not absent-mindedly, but as if he was thinking about something deeply unpleasant, and not schoolwork. Harry was determined to find out what.

He had no luck at talking to Ron at dinner, everyone else in the house suddenly very talkative, asking him about Quidditch practice and this and that test; when had dinner on a school night been this animated and distracting before? He exchanged a look with Hermione, who'd been staring worriedly at Ron, both of them almost shrugging their shoulders as if to say, what can we do? It was obvious that now was not the time but Harry knew that he had to talk to Ron soon. He'd tried numerous times to include Ron in the Quidditch conversations but his best friend was distant at best, humming vaguely in response to questions or just not even answering at other times. He also didn't eat dessert, just moved the fruit around the plate in a bored manner. Hermione made a weak joke about maybe putting some sugar on it to make it more palatable but only Harry flashed a small smile at her, Ron not even looking up from the bowl. As soon as the plates cleared, Ron got up and left, Harry tried not to watch him leave but failed without even registering it, urging Ron back with his eyes. The knot in his stomach twisted again and he extracated himself from between Dean and Seamus talking about something to go after the surly red-head.

Ron had never wondered how Malfoy could know where he was and whether he was alone with such frequency, not until he was dragged into an empty classroom by the fierce Slytherin. Maybe because he'd been thinking about the git all day, that stupid pointy face leering at him as he threatened to ruin his best friend's name. Almost tutting, Ron turned his head and pushed against the wiry frame, he really didn't want to be with him right now, especially after the fight they'd had. He knew that he couldn't give the Slytherin a reason to tell the world about him and Harry but also knew that refusing him once wouldn't be enough for that. Sides, the blond liked him, he didn't think he'd risk losing his 'services' over one refusal and Ron just wanted to sleep. Said blond growled in displeasure as Ron pulled away again, his grey eyes dark with lust. The red-head knew that those eyes never listened to anything other than groans of pleasure but he tried anyway.

"No Malfoy, I'm not in the mood." Undeterred that slim body pressed into him again, hot breath on his neck and sharp nails digging into his arms through his jumper. Gritting his teeth, Ron pushed back and they struggled for a few minutes before the Slytherin pushed Ron so hard his head slammed into the wall, hissing in pain the world swam for a while. When he had managed to blink away the fogginess he found that his rough lover had been very busy. Now only in his boxers, he felt the slight chill of the room on his chest and across his legs; he almost gave in to those fevered hands stroking and clawing heat into his skin but he still felt too angry to comply. Fiercely he pushed the blond away and began to collect his clothes but was tackled to the floor with a lustful fury.

Sighing, Harry sat on a window ledge on the 5th floor corridor and took out the Map, casting a quick searching spell. He hadn't been able to find Ron in any of the usual places and needed to find him urgently; he'd found himself almost terrified not knowing where his best friend was. There Ron was in an empty classroom- Wait. Not empty. Draco Malfoy? He magnified the image and saw that they were standing quite close. Why were the two of them in a classroom together? Still confused, he saw the two names suddenly clash together and almost chase each other across the room; coming together to throw each other away. Harry jumped up, heart in his mouth as he sprinted to the room, hoping that Malfoy wouldn't cast any dark spells before he could help Ron. The only thing in his head as he ran: _I'm coming Ron, hold on_.

Terrible images of blood and broken limbs flashed in his head as he raced, throat dry and heart hammering as he drew out his wand reaching the floor. He skidded to a halt in front of the door, knowing stealth was key to surprise Malfoy, quickly muttering an unlocking spell and slipping into the room. The room was dark but his eyes flew to the pair and he just stared, jaw loose and heavy. The Slytherin stood against the teacher's desk, facing the door, fist gripped in his best friend's hair which was…Harry felt sick. Ron was knelt in front of the other boy and….and his head was, was bobbing…He was, his best friend was, he was suck- Suddenly he heard a soft gasp and he dragged his eyes away from that fiery head to the blond who was looking right at him.


	6. Jealous

Chapter 6 – Jealous

The two boys stared at each other for a moment, neither quite believing what they were seeing. The Slytherin recovered first, smirk creeping onto his face and fists tightening, pushing the red-head down further on himself. Harry was speechless, he couldn't even think properly. All he knew was that it was wrong, so wrong, those, those sounds. He suddenly noticed them, that scrawny git moaning and whispering vulgar words, the wet sounds of… Harry paled and trembled. He silently backed out of the room, wand still gripped tightly in his hand and as soon as the pair was out of sight he ran harder than he'd ever run in his life.

The blond grinned as Potter turned and fled, without a rage-filled word. The weasel's ministrations were all the more pleasurable after having seen that shocked expression. Still, it angered him a little thinking about his fuckbuddy with that black-haired loser. He'd have to ask about that later. For now, he was reaping the rewards of having so patiently taught the Gryffindor proper technique. Well, he hadn't been awful at the beginning, in fact he'd been quite good, just a few not so subtle suggestions were needed before he'd got to the really mind-blowing level. He felt those large hands knead his arse and that wicked tongue licking his balls before going back to his aching cock. Yes, his little weasel had learned well. With the biggest smile, Malfoy came.

Ron had wanted to leave as soon as the Slytherin had flooded his bleeding mouth with his seed; he'd thought that a quick blow-job would appease the beast but cursed himself as he knew that he had been naive. He pulled his mouth away and half-stood, moving towards his clothes when he heard that harsh voice. Trying to twist out of that crushing grasp one knee slammed into the floor and he winced, finally getting his arm free and trying to scrabble away but the other boy launched himself on him. Sharp teeth and fingernails dug into his naked skin and the blond's crotch thrust into him roughly as the red-head twisted his shoulders and bucked, grunting his protest.

"Getoffme!" His low growl was countered with a low hiss and a bite to his shoulder. He rolled them over to get on top but was instantly pushed against the teacher's desk and whilst winded was manoeuvred onto his back. Wincing as the serpent bit his neck, his hands pushed again, weakly now, at those thin shoulders but he knew he didn't have enough energy to fight. Ashamed, he let himself be rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes, trying to relax; not for the first time focused on those kind green eyes in his head that he just couldn't shake, trying to imagine soft hands caressing him and his best friend's gentle voice whispering 'I love you's into the still night.

"Harry what's wrong?" The raven-haired boy had stumbled into the Common Room and headed straight to his dorm room, ignoring her calls. She'd followed him and found him pacing, torn between shock and anger. Her heart in her throat she kept from asking questions, thinking he'd start ranting but was met only by his harsh breathing. Hermione knew that there was only one person who could get Harry like this, though he rarely did; and although Harry was unaware of how much she knew, she guessed it was safe to ask.

"Is it…Ron?" At that name he spun round to face her, his cheeks a furious red, eyes blazing and mouth working frantically even though his throat was just croaking incoherently. She was a little afraid of him, not because she thought he'd hit her, but because she thought he'd shout at Ron, or hurt himself. Finally he found the words to express the chaos in his head.

"He was sssucking off Malfoy!" Wincing, Hermione searched for something to say. She ended up with a rather weak 'wow'. Harry resumed pacing fiercely, hands running through his hair and rubbing his face vigorously. "I just can't believe it!" Biting her lip, Hermione's eyes darted around the room and finally settling on Ron's bed. Breathing in deeply, she plunged in.

"Harry, you have to understand it from his point of view." Looking offended, Harry snapped his head to her and snarled.

"He's sleeping with…with the enemy! That cheating basta-" Angry at Harry's selfishness she snapped, arms folded across her chest.

"Cheating on what Harry? You're with Ginny, his own sister, isn't that worse?" Harry stared at her, mind trying to catch up and his face soon grew redder as he realised and pointed violently at her.

"He told you!" Floundering a little, Hermione shook herself out of guilt and drew herself up higher.

"No! You just said he was cheating on you! Plus I guessed!" Unmoved in his anger, Harry growled at her, shaking with rage and this long line of betrayals. She went on, growing redder herself. "To be honest Harry it's quite obvious! And shameful! You can't have your cake and eat it!" He glared at her, nostrils flaring about to shout when she steamrolled on. "Ron cheated on you? You're betraying both of them!" There was a short, tense silence. Suddenly losing all his energy, Harry sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. After watching him warily for a minute and calming herself down, Hermione sat next to him and thought she heard him mutter something about Malfoy. She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and asked softly.

"What do you want Harry?" He closed his eyes and heard a voice in his head whispering in an impassioned chant.

_Ron, Ron, Ron._

Ron stared sightlessly at the skirting board. For the first time with Draco he hadn't come, and he was just lying on his stomach as the weight moved off him; he pulled his boxers up slowly, wincing as his various cuts and bruises shouted at him, especially the sharp twinge in his left knee. His limbs felt so heavy he lay back again and closed his eyes, feeling the cold on his front but not caring, figuring he had time to rest before having to think about getting up.

"I know he did." The whisper was soft and almost tender but it still sent a chill through the already shivering body. "Fuck you I mean." That pale mouth was very close to his ear and he could see the cruel snarl in his mind's eye. His head was suddenly pulled up and back by his hair, the roots yelping in protest; hissing his eyes widened as he found the energy to be afraid. "Admit it!" He was still on his stomach, supporting himself on his elbows, eyes watering slightly he felt his throat constrict even more as he felt the tip of that ugly wand pointing into his jugular. Ron panicked as he felt those bony knees brush against his shoulders, knowing that Malfoy was squatting above him, and suddenly realising how vulnerable his position was, how the angry snake might want to reiterate his displeasure at sharing him, how he might- he might… Trying to remember where his wand had fallen, he tried to buy time.

"Yes! Okay, he…he did but-" The fist in his hair tightened, raising his voice a little. "But it was j-just once and-"

"Shut up!" He felt frozen as he recognised the irritation in the snap and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he had never let go of his wand, wishing he'd never even started this whole fucked-up business but wishing most of all to be in Harry's arms. As his mind was whirling with curses and pathetic wishes he suddenly felt his head pushed down, narrowly missing connecting with the floor. Breath held he waited for the inevitable ravenous fingers but gasped in relief when they didn't come and he heard footsteps walking away. Lifting his head up to see the now standing Slytherin, hand on the doorknob, he didn't say anything, just waiting for the parting shot. For a second he saw something foreign flash in grey eyes before they turned away. Cold and stunned, he was left alone.

"I don't know Hermione, I just don't know." She watched sympathetically as Harry collapsed in on himself, crumpling into the sofa. They'd been kicked out of the dorm room by Seamus wanting it for, romantic purposes, and so had moved down to the Common room, waiting for it to empty before talking about it again. Hermione had just asked Harry what he was going to do and he had looked at her with such pain that her anger at him melted away. He was just as messed up and confused as everyone else. Mouth twisting she sat beside him and rubbed his limp hand reassuringly, much like she did when she was listening to Ron's woes. And about him…Sighing, she rubbed her forehead and checked her watch; eyes widening she exclaimed.

"Wow, it's late! Where's Ron?" Harry looked at her to ask exactly what time it was when the portrait door swung open and the man himself came in. All argument was forgotten on seeing the blood on his face and his slight limp as he kept to the wall and moved towards the staircase stiffly, eyes not looking between the two shocked faces. Hermione stood and half-ran to Ron but he shook off her concerned hand and avoided Harry's eyes and weak call as he stalked upstairs.


	7. Missing

Chapter 7 – Missing

When Harry had said a brief goodnight to Hermione she'd looked worried where he had only felt anger, indescribable rage. He knew exactly who had done this, who had had the nerve to hurt his best friend, his lov… Oh God. So many emotions crashing against each other in his chest as he climbed the stairs. Where before he'd felt hurt and betrayed by Ron, and then saddened by how he was hurting him, now he only felt protective over him, furious that the slime ball had hurt him, no matter what Ron had done. He couldn't talk to Ron upon reaching the dormitory, knowing that he wouldn't be able to convince Ron to stay in a silenced space as they talked so as not to disturb the others; but he was unable to stay in his cold bed alone. After waiting a few agonising minutes he slipped out of bed and crawled into Ron's, glad that he hadn't been blocked out by any charms. He didn't say anything but placed a tender hand on Ron's turned back, worry peaking as that strong back shuddered and suddenly the red-head turned and looked straight into his eyes. Gut twisting at what he saw in those watering eyes he snuggled closer and gently embraced him, smelling fresh blood and hearing his lover sniff. Neither said anything but just enjoyed the peace they found in each other. Harry knew then that he would do anything to protect his love from harm. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the little voice in his head. _Even protect him from yourself?_

Harry didn't really expect Ron to talk easily and so wasn't surprised when the red-head was silent for most of the next day; moody, bruises half-healed with a bad healing spell and limp looking less severe but still noticeable. He muttered to concerned friends that he'd tripped awkwardly and said little else despite Hermione's thinly veiled questions. Harry knew it best to wear Ron down with silent but piercing looks, so did exactly that. All throughout breakfast he hardly took his eyes off his brooding friend sitting across from him. Ignoring everyone else he mechanically spooned food up into his mouth as his mind whirred.

He'd thought long and hard about it. The question that hung over that fiery head. What could Ron possibly see in the Slytherin? The snake was…well, a Slytherin! He wasn't ugly as such, Harry refused to think about him in any physical way, but his personality surely overshadowed any attractiveness. Didn't it? Had it been a direct slight towards him, going with his enemy? No, he felt guilty about having even considered the idea that Ron would do something like that. He could be moody and bitter but he was never vindictive or malicious, he was true. There wasn't another way to describe him. He was just, well, true. -There had to be something desirable about the blond. Something he didn't offer… One of the Gryffindor chasers snapped him out of his ponderings and he filed away his thoughts for later.

…

Walking alone in the crisp morning air, Draco breathed in deeply, relishing the freshness filling his lungs. The grass was slippery with dew and the lake rippled slightly in the soft breeze. Hands in his coat pockets, shrinking into the heat spell he'd cast on his jumper, he considered the events of the previous night. It had been surprising but ultimately satisfying to spot the speckled loser not only discovering but physically witnessing what he was doing to his precious sidekick; even better that the stupid Gryffindor had claimed the ginger for his own. He recalled what the boy had cried out whilst squirming beneath him, 'they'd only fucked once'. The blond snorted, like that was to be believed. Though on the other hand, Potter was bound to be naïve and stupid when it came to things like sex; it was entirely possible that the weasel had been telling the truth. Shaking his head a little he dismissed the issue as unimportant, and smiled a little as he thought of other parts of the night, mostly that soft and silky skin tight over those long, graceful limbs, flushing in all the right places. He could still feel those silky locks twisted in his fingers, those taught muscles tensed beneath him and he crossed his arms over his chest, frowning now.

As wonderful it felt to be masterful over the Weasely runt, he had shocked himself with how angry he had got over the thought of having his little whore spoiled by someone else. He was more possessive than he had originally thought and that scared him a little. He knew that he couldn't hold on to the ginger forever; not that wanted to… He would get bored of him soon, and then anyone could have him- No. He stopped walking, frown deepening. No one could ever have him, he would kill the weasel before he let anyone else touch him. Blinking, surprising himself again with the strength of these thoughts he shivered and started walking back to the castle. Since when did he care about what happened to a Weasley? The ginger idiot was nothing to him, just a piece of meat to shag at his content. No, he was more than that, a provider of excellent blow-jobs. Sighing, the Slytherin shook his head, he couldn't even convince himself that the ginger meant that little to him. There was a level of care, but only because he belonged to him, he couldn't be claimed by anyone else. Yes, that was it. He belonged to him. Satisfied with that answer, he gritted his jaw. Now he'd realised that, he wanted to keep hold onto the little red-head.

He was never seeing that bastard again. Ron narrowed his eyes as he chewed on some crackly bacon, the voice in his head fierce and angry. Having recovered from the shock and pain of his ordeal he had been filled with disgust and anger, mostly at himself at allowing himself to be treated that way. No matter how masterful that wicked tongue, insistent and hungry those long fingers, he would not relent. Nothing could make-up for the plunging fear he'd felt at being completely vulnerable and terrified; not even the relief from the weight on his chest, the pinpricks behind his eyes and the greyness that was his life couldn't justify being put in that position again. He would not break, he would not yield; he would kill himself before letting that sick son of a bitch touch him again.

The boy in question entered the Great Hall, shivering slightly from the cold. Ron watched him sit down, swallowed his mouthful and then excused himself. Avoiding Hermione's worried look and Harry's quick glance and tight shoulders he twitched his lips a little as an unsatisfactory reassurance as he left. Tightening his grip on the bag strap over his shoulder he turned down the corridor leading to Transifguration and just knew that he was being followed. Really? Again so soon? It was almost like the Slytherin was obsessed by him. Despite his foresight he allowed himself to be dragged into a random classroom, it was better they had this conversation away from prying eyes. Even so, the hand around his arm made his skin crawl. As soon as they were safely inside, the blond pushed his plaything up against the wall, grinding his hips into the taller boy forcefully. Feeling sick and growing anger, the red-head pushed the horny thing off him, snarling.

"Leave me alone Malfoy." As usual, he wasn't listened to; the randy snake stepped forward again, lust in those half-closed eyes. Ron began to shake with anger as he recalled all the times he'd seen that expression, he stepped out of the way as he snapped. "I mean it! Don't touch me!" Something ugly growing in the pit of his stomach, Draco purred as he advanced again.

"Come now Weasel, you don't mean that. We have such fun together-"The pure fear from last night flashed in his chest as Ron batted away the hungry fingers, his voice a lot louder as he cried.

"Leave me alone! I will never have anything to do with you ever again, do you hear me?" Sensing the determination behind the protests, the grey eyes narrowed and the quick tongue clipped.

"Imagine the uproar if the whole school found out about Potter fucking his slack-jawed sidekick!" Ron almost laughed, although he'd been expecting it, the threat was so typical of his secret shame. He didn't allow himself to be phased, squaring up to his opponent and snapping.

"Yeah well, imagine them finding out what you are too!" Both were held still by the steel in the other's eyes. The snake was tempted to start a fist fight that would lead to a quick make-out session but he sensed that if he did engage the red-head in a physical fight right then, it would not lead to anything other than broken bones.

"They'd never believe that!" The exclamation was weak and they both knew it. Angered by the break in his voice, Draco gulped and folded his arms, trying to mask the burning in his cheeks by arching an eyebrow. Ron said nothing, just stared. Seeing the unrelenting conviction in his fuckbuddy's expression the blond let more aggression flow through into his threat. "I'd curse you stupid before you could breathe one word!"

"Go on then!" There was something raw in those deep eyes, something so powerful it scared the blond. It wasn't just fighting talk or even anger; it was a raged recklessness, it was a deliberate self-destructive challenge. He didn't even want a fight, he wanted…He…he was being serious, he... Rendered powerless by shock Draco stood still, staring into those rage-filled eyes and saw the pain flickering in them. For a moment he managed to grasp at some understanding before he blinked and it was gone. Snorting disdainfully, the Gryffindor shoved the Slytherin away and stalked out of the room, not looking back. The blond put a shaky hand to his forehead, breathless and furious. Dammit! Forcing himself calm he set his mind to the problem. Blackmail was out of the question. Snorting breathily he cursed under his breath and straightened his clothes. He had to keep trying, he was a Malfoy; he always got what he wanted in the end. And now he had his eyes firmly set on that Weasely.


	8. Hurt

Chapter 8 – Hurt

Harry was walking down the corridor in the direction which he thought Ron had disappeared to when suddenly a classroom door banged open from behind him. He sighed with relief when he saw Ron but frowned at the red-head's expression, feeling the waves of hurt and anger from where he was standing.

"Ron?" His friend muttered something about forgetting a book as he stalked past, leaving him only able to watch worriedly after him. He'd been hoping to do some more groundwork on getting Ron to open up before their first lesson but was now growing concerned at what had sparked his friend's anger. Another noise behind him made him turn around and his stomach churned; God he hated that slimy git. He must have been the cause, he always bloody was. The boy looked at first surprised, but then quickly shifted his expression into one of satisfaction, he sauntered up.

"Well hello Pot-" Harry cut him off angrily, just managing to control his urge to wring the ferret's neck.

"What did you do to him?" A silver eyebrow raised, the lithe boy folded his arms, shaking off whatever had been dampening his usually sharp tongue.

"Nothing he didn't like." Rage swelled suddenly and Harry had to restrain his arms, his cheeks flushing furiously.

"You're lying!" Knowing he was winning, the Slytherin smirked, the saint's frustration and anger making him feel a lot better.

"Face it Potter, you're just jealous that he chose me over you."

"He-" Harry's throat closed up, before he gulped and muttered venomously. "You don't know what you're talking about." Smirk un-moved, Malfoy snorted and replied with a certain weight.

"Sure I don't." Snarling, Harry turned and stalked away, determined to find Ron and…he wasn't sure what, he just knew that he had to find him.

…

"Hermione?" The student looked up from the book she'd been pouring over, seeing Ginny nervously sidle up to her. "Can I talk to you about something?" Nodding, her stomach dropping at the tone, Hermione put down the book and folded her hands onto her lap as Ginny slipped into the chair beside her, looking around quickly at the nearly empty room before beginning. "Well, it's about Ron." Hermione was both relieved and wary at this, having been itching to talk to either Harry or Ron about the state Ron had been in the night before. They'd both been tense at breakfast and during the day's lessons; Ron quiet and distant, clearly wanting to avoid the both of them whilst Harry had been almost writhing with his anxiety. As soon as the last lesson had ended the boys had disappeared and she'd wearily tried to focus on work. Ginny opened her mouth but at that moment Harry appeared, looking worried.

"Have you seen Ron?" Both girls shook their heads and he cursed under his breath before scratching the back of his head distractedly. Hermione exchanged a look with Ginny before venturing tentatively.

"Is there something wrong?" Surprised by their presence, Harry started and gulped before shaking his head dismissively. He turned and walked out again quickly, leaving the girls in an awkward pause. Ginny sighed and slipped into a seat beside her friend.

"Well, anyway, I want to talk about Ron." She paused, looking at the hands in her lap. "Does he seem distant to you?" Nodding slowly, Hermione debated letting some of Ron's secret slip, no details, just the bare bones, just to see what Ginny thought of it. But her friend went on. "Come to think of it, Harry's got a bit distracted as well lately; do you know if there's anything happening between them?" Hermione twisted her lip. Oh why was Ginny saying all the right things? Did she know? What should the secret-keeper say? She decided to play it safe.

"Actually, yes." Ginny looked interested and Hermione licked her lips, hands clasped together, tightening. "Now I don't know what it is. But there's definitely something going on." _Tread carefully Hermione_. "An argument about something?" The ginger girl twisted her lip, eyes soft and concerned.

"I don't know." She sighed, running a hand through her shoulder-length hair. "I hardly talk to either of them anymore and I don't like it. Harry especially, he's always miles away…you know sometimes." She dropped her voice, glanced quickly around and her cheeks flushed as she admitted. "Sometimes I wonder why we're even together." Keeping her face as calm as possible, Hermione nodded for her friend to continue. "I mean, I love Harry, I really do… I just…" Hermione's mind flooded with whispers of possibilities, optimism flowing in. "The spark's gone. You know?" Hope was flaring in the listener's chest; finally, a realistic solution for everyone. She just had to play it right.

"Well, have you talked to him about-" She smiled slightly at the look on her friend's face. "No, of course not, no one's talking to each other properly nowadays." Returning the smile, Ginny coughed and said lightly.

"Well no one but us." Nudging Ginny with her shoulder, Hermione took a moment to enjoy their friendship. It was such a relief to have someone to talk about these kinds of things with, and not have to comfort someone or worry about everyone's happiness.

…

Halfway through dinner, Harry gave up waiting for Ron to appear, his nervous leg tapping annoying and concerning Hermione; he excused himself and trudged up to the dormitories knowing them to be empty at that time, having a feeling that Ron would be there. He'd been looking for him for hours, Ron must have been running around as much as he was to keep out of sight. Nudging open the door, he peered inside and sure enough, saw his best friend, his lover, pottering around moodily. For a minute, he just watched him affectionately as he searched through his trunk irritably, pulling things out and shoving them back in without much purpose, then shrugged off his robes, toed off his shoes and pulled off his shirt and jumper in one. Then, Harry's heart dropped. As Ron's stomach came into view, so did the bruises adorning it, some small and faded but a few large, dark purple splotches marring the perfect white skin. Even as Harry thought this his lover winced slightly as he bent down to pick up a pyjama top; he burst into the room shouting.

"What the fuck Ron?" Ron jumped, spinning around, lifting the top to his chest instinctively. Harry grabbed Ron's arm as he tried to escape into the bathroom, knowing what Harry was angry about but Harry wouldn't let him, his grip tightened on the pale arm as Ron tried to squirm away. "Did he do these too?" They struggled as the injured called out uselessly.

"Harry, let go!" Snorting breathily, Harry finally released him and snarled.

"I'm gonna kill him!" Tugging his t-shirt on and panting, Ron avoided his eyes and muttered under his breath.

"That would be nice." Harry's sudden strangled cry snapped his head up.

"Why?" Ron snapped his head around and just stared, confused and concerned. "Why did you do it? I thought…I thought we…?" Harry trailed off hopelessly, not knowing how to not say something he'd forbidden himself to say aloud.

"That we were together?" Harry instantly knew where Ron was going but let him say it anyway. "You're with my sister Harry, I'm just your bit on the side." Disgusted at himself, Harry lifted his hands in a calming gesture, eyes pleading.

"No! It's not like that!" Ron curled his lip and snapped.

"Then what is it like?" Harry's hands wrung themselves into a frenzy but the words stuck to his throat, bile in his mouth.

"It's…it's hard okay?" His part-time lover stalked up to him angrily, stabbing Harry's chest with his finger.

"That's bullshit Harry. You just want a bit of everything, a bit of everyone! You want to know why I let him fuck me?" Harry flinched, at his words and his broken voice; Ron stepped back hurriedly, suddenly wanting to put distance between them. "Because he didn't go and pretend to date my sister afterwards!" Softly, weakly, Harry half-cried.

"But…he hurt you!" Energy draining him rapidly, the red-head shrugged and looked away.

"Well, don't cry about it. It's something I'm used to." At this, the floodgates shot open and Harry broke down, sobbing with his whole body, the guilt unbearable. The heavy and desolate silence between them was punctured by his cracked whimpers. Face softening, Ron blinked back his own tears and sighing, stepped forwards and engulfed his lover in his warmest, most loving hug.

"I'm… sor-ry, I-I'm so, sssso ssorr-ry!" Harry stuttered miserably, hate rising high and tight in his chest as he forced out the harsh and bitter sounds. "I…I was j-just so c-confuuused and I, I n-n-nevvver meant t-to h-huurt y-you I swear!" Trying to keep strong against his best friend's trembling, Ron found soft hair against his cheek and inhaled the smell of his lover's hair. Both of them calming gradually against each other, just absorbing the warmth of their chests and hot breath on their necks. And then, barely audible, three little words. "I love you."

Ron was frozen in that embrace, held by his surprise and hesitant joy; he hadn't felt such pure happiness in such a long time, there'd always been something in the way. Gods it felt good. Unfortunately, Harry reminded him of one of those things.

"I'll break up with Ginny, I'll do it as soon as I see her." Instantly Ron's arms stiffened and he pulled away quickly, the loud exclamation bursting from his mouth.

"No!" Eyes widening dramatically, Harry spluttered.

"What? But I thought…" His friend shook his head, seeming angriest at himself than at Harry.

"It's wrong what we're doing Harry, it'd kill her!" Mirroring rage, the dark-haired boy snarled.

"Don't you think I know that? Stop acting like this was all me, it takes two to tango Ron!" The harsh vocalisation of his thoughts stilled him and the red-head gulped, scowling at the floor before his shoulders drooped and he sighed.

"I know. I was wrong…" The whisper was small and brittle. "I was weak." The conflict was obvious, cold and clear; Harry made a half-hearted arm gesture.

"Ron…" But he didn't know what to say; they stared at each other's feet for a long time before muffled sounds from downstairs alerted them to the scant private time they had. In the end, the red-head muttered.

"I don't want you to break her heart." Sadness stained around his eyes as his lover took off his glasses and sniffed, looking down at his limp fingers. Harry cleared his throat, barely feeling the quickly drying tracks of regret down his cheeks as he talked.

"Listen, I don't think it's like that. We're not…we're not 'in love' or anything. Honestly-" Ron cut him off.

"No Harry don't! Don't you dare try to talk your way out of this or, or distract me, it won't work!" He paused and muttered bitterly. "Not this time." The shouts grew louder and Harry wiped his face furiously, putting back on his glasses and clearing his throat again as their roommates came barging in, bantering and laughing. The pair spared another quick glance at each other before turning away and trying to act normal.

…

Over the next few days, everyone kept a close eye on everyone else; it was literally like a circle of hard and concerned stares, Hermione watching the boys, Ginny glancing between Harry and Ron, the boys avoiding and then finding each other's gaze surreptitiously. But the most intense stares were the ones that Draco gave his prey. He kept on shouting insults across corridors and snarling under-his-breath comments to the pair in lessons, generally vulgar and always nasty. Once or twice he'd even allude to what he'd ineffectually threatened.

"Oh look, it's Potter and his Poof!" or "Sore Weasel?", all of which the Gryffindor's just managed to ignore. In addition to his daytime assaults, however, the Slytherin was also trying to snake his way back into the Gryffindor's pants with slick nothings and wandering hands. He'd thrust into the growingly frustrated red-head, persisting despite the rough shoves and fast pace that he maintained to try and escape the irritating ferret who somehow managed to always find Ron when he was alone. No threat, with wand or without, could get the crazy Slytherin to let up. It got so bad that Ron wondered if the blond would actually resort to hexing him into submission and considered telling one of the Professors, but then that would cause a whole lot of other problems he couldn't bear dealing with. But even if the poor attempts at 'seducing' him had been desirable, he still wasn't interested as Harry had grown extremely attentive; almost too much, in fact Ron was a bit concerned with how daring his lover was becoming, reaching for his hand in public and leaning a bit too close for a bit too long. The red-head didn't care about the public touching, just worried about the un-discussed issue of his sister; he hadn't had the chance to finish his talk with Harry and the familiar cold guilt was swirling slowly deep within him.

Three days after he'd confessed his love for his best friend Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead absentmindedly, it was time. Long nights of tossing and turning, biting his lip and frowning hopelessly and he'd gotten nowhere. There was only one course of action and he had to do it, no matter the consequences. He walked briskly up to the Gryffindor Tower and seeing his target, he gulped, thoughts of Ron spurring him on.

"Ginny?" That glorious head turned, bright and shining eyes latched onto his face and a mixture of emotions weaving through her cautious expression. Breathing in deeply, he took the cold hard plunge. "We've got to talk."


End file.
