Story Title: Boy Talk
Part 1/1
Disclaimer: If JKR wanted to give them to me, I would gladly take them. But they're not mine, they're hers. I own nothing.
He couldn't sleep.
The war was over; Voldemort had been defeated. Most of the Death Eaters had been rounded up, and The Burrow had so many wards in place that Harry doubted anyone could get in. He was safe, they were all safe.
Yet he couldn't sleep.
He sighed, turning once again in the small bed. Sharing a room with Ron again was – well, it was fun, in an uncomfortable, knock-before-you-come-in kind of way. Ron and Hermione had nothing to sort out, nothing to get over. They weren't in that awkward I-already-yelled-at-you-so-give-me-some-time stage. No, they were in the snogging phase, Harry had found.
Not that he minded. He didn't really mind, he just wished he could be at that stage. That Ginny could get over being mad at him and he could start proving her that he was only a daft prick when Voldemort was around and there was a war to fight. He really was quite better during peace time.
And he also wanted to stop thinking. Not thinking would be nice. Not recounting how many freckles he'd once tallied on Ginny's face or the softness of her hair against his cheek. Right now, when he couldn't have her, he really wanted to forget, at least for a moment, how much he actually wanted her.
But that was all his mind could concentrate on. He closed his eyes, and there was Ginny. He opened them, and the real one was there, bidding them to come down for breakfast. It was hell, pure and simple. He groaned as he smothered himself with the pillow and hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would pass out.
"Harry, for Merlin's sake, go back to sleep," Ron was grumbling, but Ron always grumbled when he woke up, and Harry hadn't meant to wake up Ron. God knew Ron needed to save up his energy these days. He chuckled at that. Ron was having better luck than he was. Bloody unfair!
"Mate, I'm telling you, if you don't stop tossing and turning I won't be able to get my beauty sleep," Ron said, his voice muffled behind the pillow he now used to cover his head. Harry couldn't help but be amused. Now they were both trying the same thing.
"I can't sleep," he grumbled, because Ron was kind of contagious in that respect.
Ron lifted his head a bit, but Harry still couldn't see him behind the pillow. "Is this where I'm supposed to be a good friend and listen to you? Because, really, Harry, you could have picked a better moment. Like before, when I was actually awake!"
Harry groaned. "I can't sleep. That's not exactly my fault."
A defeated sound was coming out from behind the pillow, and then Ron was sitting up, the pillow discarded now to the floor, staring at Harry in a look between murderous and understanding.
"All right, I can do this. You're my best mate. I can do this," Ron repeated, and Harry thought he was trying to convince himself.
"You don't really have to get up," Harry felt the need to say, even if it was completely false. "It's nothing I can talk to you about, anyway."
Ron's eyes were now wide open. "What could you possibly be tossing and turning about that you couldn't discuss with me? It's about Hermione, isn't it? Did she tell you something about me?"
Harry immediately threw his pillow across the room, making contact with Ron's face. "Don't be a prat, Ron. I'm not tossing and turning in bed thinking about Hermione. That's your job."
Ron was awake enough to make a face at him.
"All right, what is it then?" he asked, while he grabbed Harry's pillow and settled against the wall. "Come on, I'm awake, so you might as well tell me."
Harry thought this was surely the beginning of the end. Why did he have to fall for his best friend's sister? That surely took all the fun out of talking about your, eh, whatever he and Ginny were at this point.
"Ron, I don't think you really want to hear what I've been thinking …" He shook his head. Talking seemed to be a bad idea. He was coming up with new ways to torture himself. Maybe he was sitting here thinking about Ginny, and she was in her room sleeping peacefully.
"Out with it, Harry." Ron seemed amused. "I'm already awake and you very well know that I won't go back to sleep until you tell me, so we might as well get it over with while it's still dark outside."
There was a loud sigh. "It's just …well, I was thinking about …well, G- Ginny …"
He couldn't look Ron in the face while he said it, and there was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence before he risked looking up. Ron's face was resigned.
"Hermione warned me about this conversation," Ron muttered and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Sometimes it seemed like Hermione was two steps ahead of them.
"It's nothing like that, Ron." He grinned. Maybe his mind had wandered over the various attributes of Ginny Weasley, but he wasn't about to share that with Ron.
"Wait, wait …wait. What's wrong with my sister? Why don't you want to talk about that?" Ron was now at the edge of his bed, peering at Harry closely.
Harry was livid. "Ron, are you mental?"
"I'm a bloke too, you know. Not wanting to talk about that means something is wrong. Oh, God...what is it? What's wrong with her? Are you …Harry, you wouldn't …would you?"
"I've somehow lost you, Ron."
"Well, find me again! You and Ginny aren't …you know …"
"Ron!" Harry felt the need to interrupt. "Ginny and I aren't even, you know, back together. You have nothing to worry about."
But Ron's mind seemed to be twenty steps ahead of him now. "Maybe you do. I mean, have you ever stopped to consider that she had two boyfriends, and …I mean, she's my sister, but you're my best mate, you know …" Ron stopped talking all the sudden, his expression one of disgust.
Harry did know. It was something he'd never stopped to consider. There would be no going back to sleep now. He sighed as he rested his head in his hands and tried to tone out Ron's incessant rambling.
***************************
Wednesday night dinner with Percy and George was starting to become something of a tradition. Charlie turned up, from time to time, but you could never count on him to be there, and Bill was generally too busy during weekdays to even consider joining them, but they still went ahead with the notion of a brothers-only dinner. Sometimes it was just him and Percy in the dark, dingy Muggle pub George liked so much. They humored him, even when he wasn't there.
Percy was nowhere to be found tonight, and Ron didn't even want to consider the fact that a hot date might have interrupted their Wednesday night outing. They had an agreement, hot date trumped dinner with one's brothers, but Ron could very well choose when to schedule his dates with Hermione and Percy just didn't seem to attract female company, for he'd always shown up. Until now.
Sighing he considered whether he should wait for George or just give up and see if he could pry Hermione away from her weekly meeting of whatever barmy thing it was she'd decided needed her in this particular moment.
He didn't like his chances of that, but he'd half made up his mind to give it a try anyway when he spotted two familiar faces in the corner. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, gesturing loudly over what looked to be a bottle of Firewiskey.
The choice was obvious, going back to Hermione or joining his friends for a drink. Hoping that Percy was indeed having a good time and knowing full well that he had no chance of distracting Hermione, he headed towards the corner of the room, trying to block out the stupid idea of Dean and his sister that had assaulted him at the first sign of his former classmate.
He'd never really considered it before. Really. Not until Harry had started blabbering a couple of nights ago and put those foolish ideas into his head. Stupid Harry.
"Ron, mate!" Seamus's voice interrupted him before he'd reached the table, and from the smell of things they'd been drinking quite heavily for some time.
"Hello," Ron said, a little clipped but all in all cheerful enough to not arouse suspicion. He was getting better at this being conspicuous deal.
"Roooon," Dean said, squinting a bit. "I didn't know you were joining us. You're late." He seemed to find his own words funny, for he laughed heartily. "Late, indeed. We're almost out of good stories. And Firewhiskey! Though we can always order more ."
And he started laughing again. This time, Seamus joined him.
"I'm not so sure," Ron said slowly. "I mean, I'm meeting Hermione later, and I wouldn't want to be, you know …too…"
"Oh, please!" Seamus was saying. "See, Hermione's his boss. It's just like I was saying, women are insane, mate. They lay down all this weird rules and if you don't follow them and do exactly as they say they just won't sleep with you. And, well, that's the reason you're with them in the first place, isn't it?"
Ron wasn't sure he wanted to sit down and take part in this conversation, but he didn't want to go home either. And if he was to stay, then a glass of Firewhiskey was starting to sound good.
Seamus went on as if he'd just been waiting for Ron to take a seat. "It's like …they want you to pay attention to every little thing they say and just magically figure out what matters, or something…insane, I tell you."
"It's just like that in the sack, too," Dean felt the need to add and Ron reached for the bottle of Firewhiskey and poured himself a large amount. "Like, at Hogwarts, there was this girl, and blimey, I could never figure out what she wanted! One second she wanted it rough, then she wanted me to be gentle, and half the time I just wished she could make up her own mind!"
"Girls just don't know what they want, that's the one thing certain in life," Seamus added. "It's like, they want you to be romantic and then you want you to forget about romantic and shag them senseless, but now without the proper amount of romance and bloody hell, how are we supposed to know what the proper amount of romance is?"
"Maybe Ron knows." Dean was now looking at him intently. "He's the only one of us with a proper girlfriend, after all."
Ron wanted to yell that no, he hadn't figured it out either. He had Hermione, yes, but girls -- girls were a foreign object to him. Half the time he didn't even remember that Hermione was a girl; to him she was just Hermione.
Dean lost interest before Ron could answer, though, and went back to reminiscing. "This one time, in the Common Room, I …"
Ron tried to block him out. He took another swig of his Firewhiskey and contemplated all the other girls Dean could be talking about. There had been that one time when he'd gone out with that Hufflepuff from Ginny's year. He couldn't remember her name. Oh, and there was Luna, of course. Which he also didn't want to imagine, but it was better than Ginny.
"The absolute best place to shag in Hogwarts is the Quidditch Changing Rooms, though. I sneaked in with a …"
Ron was seeing red. One minute he was calmly listing the reasons why Dean would hold his tongue in front of him, and next he was shaking out his stinging hand as Dean looked up at him from the floor.
Seamus seemed amused. Dean, however, seemed to have sobered up, maybe by the hit, or maybe by the murderous look on Ron's face.
"What was that about?" he asked slowly, almost as if dreading the answer.
"What do you mean what was that about?" Ron felt ready to hit him again."I'm sitting right here and you want to talk about what you and GINNY did in the Quidditch Changing Rooms? Do you THINK I want to KNOW that?"
Seamus was now laughing freely. "Ginny? You mean …you sister?"
"What, do we know ANY other Ginny? I don't know what's wrong with both of you, but I …"
"Ron, mate," Dean was trying to stand up, but without someone to help him was finding it incredibly difficult to find balance. Ron didn't feel at all inclined to provide assistance. "What are you talking about? I never slept with Ginny!"
It was an almost instantaneous reaction. Ron's face went pink just as Dean landed on his arse. "I mean, I won't deny that I tried, more than once …but she never let me! Boy, she was a good kisser. I think I would have …"
"Careful," Ron said, as he offered Dean a hand. "If you want to get off the floor I wouldn't recommend you tell me how hard you tried. I may just have to hit you again."
***************************
Later that night, alone in his room, Ron covered his face with the pillow and concentrated on wishing the pinkish glow away from his face. Even after Dean's denial, the mental image had just refused to leave his head. He didn't think Ginny would appreciate it if he told her.
"Hey," Harry said as he entered the room carefully, as he always did these days.
"Hermione isn't here," Ron said loudly. "So you can stop tiptoeing. I promise she's not hiding under the bed."
"Well, you never know," an amused voice replied. "There's no accounting for taste."
"Very funny, Harry. Very funny," said Ron, and promptly threw the pillow into Harry's face. "I'll have you know that today I had the most embarrassing night ever, and it was all because of you."
"Me?" Harry sat down on his bed, clutching the pillow that Ron had thrown his way. "I was stuck here all night, helping Ginny and Hermione with some barmy idea to write down our journey, or something. I swear, ever since you two got back from Australia she seems to be …I don't know… too bloody happy maybe?"
Ron felt defensive all the sudden. "We had a good trip! I mean, we didn't …it wasn't, you know, but still, we had a good …Blimey, you know what I mean. She's happy her parents are back home, and that they've let her come stay with us for a while."
"Yeah, if it were me I would have never let her out of my sight again."
"Yes, wonderful. I'm glad we didn't take YOU to see her parents, then."
"Just saying." Harry was now lying on his back, eyes closed. "Goodnight Ron."
"Goodni – wait, what?" Without ammunition, Ron had to stand up and shake Harry awake. "You're not going to sleep, you great big prat! I just had a miserable evening because of you, and you might as well hear about it and gain something from it."
"You went out with Percy and George, I can imagine how it was miserable" was all Harry said before he rolled into his side and covered his head with the extra pillow.
"Neither of them showed up. I ended up sharing a bottle of Firewhiskey with Dean and Seamus."
"Oh?" Harry was obviously still awake.
"Don't you want to know what Dean said about that thing we assumed last time we talked about you know what?"
Harry's eyes were now wide open. "You asked him?"
"Of course I didn't, you prat! He was completely hammered. He just started blabbering."
"And? I wouldn't think he'd talk about Ginny in front of you, drunk or not."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I didn't take that into account. He mentioned something about the Quidditch Changing Rooms, and I just …"
"You just what?"
"Well, I might have decked him."
Harry laughed. "I can see that. What did he say?"
Ron just shrugged. "He was too drunk to care. He just told me nothing ever happened between him and Ginny and then I helped him get up and he continued drinking. So, now you know. Nothing ever happened between them, and I paid dearly for that information, so you'd better put it to good use."
Harry was turning bright red. Ron couldn't remember ever seeing him like that.
"Eh, yeah …thanks, mate. I mean, not that I …you know, but…"
"Oh, no. You already asked. Or, worse, you found another way to ….er, you know what, don't tell me. Just let me go back to sleep."
Harry didn't say a word as he handed Ron his pillow.
"There are things I don't need to know about you and my sister. No, wait …there are things I don't want to know about you and my sister. So we can leave it at that."
The End
A/N: For Carrie.
