John the Revelator
Characters: Harry, Ron
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slash. Angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just played around with them for a sec.
"Tell me it's not true." He looks at me out of his big blue eyes, not trying to hide the tears. I try to take him into my arms, but he withdraws, wriggles out of my grip, leaving me empty-handed. I stretch my hands out towards him in a begging fashion.
Of course I know what he is talking about. Everyone talks about it, but it's not true.
"There is only one person I love, and you know that," I say. He looks up at me through a strand of red hair and bites his trembling lip. The pain on his face makes my insides twist. "I want to believe you," he says, "but it's not easy."
Oh, don't I know. I look to the ground. I know I have nothing to blame myself for. I have done nothing wrong. I feel my face growing hot with anger. Why does he always have to interfere? Can't he just leave me – us – alone, once and for all? No, he has to spread stupid rumours about me and him. And in a school like this, if you want something to spread, it will. Seven lies multiplied by seven!
Because he wants to hurt Hermione.
Because he wants to hurt me.
But this time, he's hit the wrong person.
I move towards him, carefully seating myself beside him on the bed, where he has collapsed back on himself. He looks at me. Is that fear in his eyes? But he doesn't move back. He's waiting for me to do something. To explain. To take the pain and the doubt away. I put an arm around his shoulder and hold his face in my other hand, gently touching his chin and brushing away the tears with my thumb.
"Have you ever believed a Slytherin?" My voice trembles. "Have you ever believed anything Malfoy said?" He stops his sobs for a moment. "Of course not. But it's not only him who…" I nod. "I hate Malfoy just as much as you do." If not more, I think. The words don't seem to reach him. What has he heard, I wonder. What are people talking? I look him directly into the eyes, and then I kiss him. He returns the kiss immediately, clinging to me like a man drowning. "I need you." My hand trails down his back. I hold him tight against me. "I need you too."
I ease him into lying. He does not resist. But as I approach him, I know the doubts still linger in his mind. My hand runs down his body. I feel his warm breath on my neck. "I love you," I tell him, over and over again, as though that could change anything.
I don't want to hurt you.
I want to protect you.
There is no need for you to be in pain.
"I love you," he says at last. I pull his body close to mine and kiss him deeply.
We can try to leave it behind us.
We can push it away.
But we can never forget.