Disclaimer: Don't own HP or Spring Awakening

Got the idea from listening to The Spring Awakening (original Broadway) recording for the millionth time.

My Junk:

Harry was exploding again. Something triggered that awful temper of his. Now I'd spend the next hour trying to calm him down, or reason with him, or both.

"I mean can you believe that?" He asked.

I shook my head, "completely mental." I responded. Who were we talking about? I was focusing on other things. Like the fact that Harry never listens to me. Never asks me how I feel, or about my problems.

Sure my problems pale in comparison to that of The Chosen One's but honestly. He's my best friend. I'm supposed to be able to rant to him too. To say, "Ya know I hate being poor", or "Hey Hermione's mad at me again." Or "I'm fucking in love with you, you unobservant tosspot." But no It's always about Harry. Most days I don't mind. I'll complain right along with him about the ministry, Malfoy, Cho, You-Know-Who, Ernie and his horrendous new haircut. I'll be the good old reliable best friend. But sometimes I just want to shout –

"Are you even listening?" Harry asked haughtily.

I sighed, "Not really." I admitted.

Harry looked taken aback.

I felt awful. "I know you're going through a lot and I'll always be here to support you. But sometimes, maybe, I need to talk about my problems too."

"Oh."

I made a rash decision.

"Harry, there's something I have to say. In the midst of this nothing, this miss of a life, still there's this one thing, just to see you go by. It's almost like loving, as sad as that is. May not be cool but it's so where I live. It's like I'm your lover, or more like your ghost. I spend my day wonderin what you do where you go. I try and just kick it but then what can I do? We've all got our junk and my junk is you."

Harry looked stricken again. "Ron I…"

"Yea, that's okay. It was poor timing."

"Are you saying you're in love with me? Or that I'm a nuisance?"

I considered this. I could see his confusion but didn't I basically just admit to being in love with him?

"You'll have to excuse me; I know it's so off, I love when you do stuff that's rude and so wrong. I got up to my room turn the stereo on, shoot up some you in the you of some song. I like back just drifting, and play out these scenes. I ride on the rush of all the hopes, all the dreams. I may be neglecting the things I should do. We've all got our junk and my junk is you."

Harry continued to stare at me with a slightly bewildered expression. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. What were you talking about?"

"I'm your junk?" Harry asked.

I sighed; he wasn't going to drop my extremely awkward love confession.

"Yes Harry. My junk. My all-consuming, every thought! It's always about you because I love you okay? And that's fine. I don't mind but sometimes I just need you to hear me." Was this was the end of our friendship?

"I'm going to bed." I said, hoping my face wouldn't get any more red than it already was.

"Ron," I reluctantly turned at the sound of his voice. Turned to face my rejection.

"A lot is going on in my life. You know that, and I shouldn't take it out on you and everything."

Did he honestly completely miss the point?

"It's fine."

"But also, well, Ron, you're my junk too. I mean, I love you too."

"Mean it?" I had a hard time containing my grin. He nodded rather sheepishly in response.

I walked back toward him and cupped his face gently. He bit his bottom lip nervously. "I won't kiss you if you don't want me to."

"I want you to. But my only snogging experience has been Cho, and we all saw how well that worked out."

I smirked, leaning forward without preamble.

Our lips touching was something of an epiphany for me. Harry was definitely my junk. And I loved it.