Title: Through the Storm
Rating: T
Challenge: Ron eventually breaks down and admits that it wasn't Harry whom he was jealous of when attempting to destroy the locket.
Summary: Eventually the truth is revealed.
Warnings: Harry/Ron slash and a little angst
Beta: The wonderful weetziecat
Notes: Written for the hprwfqf on insanejournal.

Through the Storm

Lightning flashed, temporarily brightening the storm darkened sky. Harry glanced out the window of his small flat just as the thunder crashed, the fierce vibrations traveling through the walls, rattling his possessions about, and Harry was glad to be spending a quiet evening at home.

He set about preparing dinner the muggle way; there was something about the mundane tasks of preparing a meal that Harry found soothing. The chopping of the carrots and the onions was relaxing, and as Harry tended to the stew he had bubbling on the stove he felt all the stress of the day roll off his shoulders.

The rain fell heavily from the sky as Harry sat down to eat, and his mind began to wander. He lost himself in his thoughts as he listened to the sound of the rain as it came into contact with the world around it. He was startled out of his revere at the sound of a louder, heavier pounding on his door.

'That's odd,' he thought as he rose to answer. Harry wasn't expecting any company tonight, especially not with this kind of weather. He opened the door and was shocked as he took in Ron's appearance. Ron was standing out in the rain sopping wet, completely soaked through to the bone. His bright red hair was plastered against his forehead and his face was the picture of absolute misery.

"Shit, Ron, what happened?" Harry asked in alarm. "Are you okay? Where's Hermione?"

At Hermione's name, Ron swallowed heavily, as if forcing back tears. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words got caught and died in his throat. Harry quickly pulled him out of the rain and into the house.

"Come on mate, talk to me," said Harry as he forced back his panic. "Did something happen to Hermione?"

Ron's blue eyes went wide as he realized that Harry has assumed the very worst, given his behaviour, and he shook his head. "She kicked me out, mate," he said, his voice sounding strained and hoarse. "She kicked me out."

Harry didn't need to hear another word. He instantly moved to take care of his devastated best friend. A quick Accio sent a change of clothes flying into his hands, and he led Ron over to the bathroom. Ron's whole body was trembling with cold as he accepted the clothes and closed the door to change.

Harry bustled around the room, casting a roaring fire in the fireplace and setting another place at the table. Ron emerged from the bathroom, still miserable but appearing less like a drowned rat. In ordinary circumstances, Harry would have laughed at the way Ron looked in his clothes. The legs of his joggers were several inches too short for his taller friend, and the borrowed t-shirt was almost skin-tight against Ron's muscled frame.

Ron joined him at the table and Harry set a steaming bowl of stew in front of him. They sat together in a heavy silence. Ron scarcely picked at the meal, moving the contents around with his spoon while Harry finished eating. A long time passed before Ron raised his eyes.

"Thanks, Harry," said Ron as he smiled sadly.

Harry reached across the table and covered Ron's hand with his own.

"Don't mention it."

It had been years since Harry and Ron had shared this flat together, but Harry had never been able to bring himself to move Ron's old bed out of their room. Ron shot him a surprised and grateful look when he saw it, obviously expecting to have to take up a semi-permanent residence on the couch.

"Anything, else I can get for you, Ron?"

Ron sat on the edge of the bed, and Harry could tell from the look on his face that he was struggling with his pride. Harry waited patiently for his friend, and Ron finally sighed, "Have any dreamless sleep potion?"

Without a word, Harry moved to the bedside table, pulled the desired bottle out of the drawer, and handed it to his friend.

Ron's eyes were wet as he accepted the potion, and he quickly whispered, "Thanks." He uncorked the bottle, hastily downed the contents, and slipped off into a peaceful oblivion.

The next morning, Harry rose before the sun. He dressed himself quietly, sparing a moment to cast a glance at the bed beside him. Ron looked peaceful as he slept, with no worries or pain to mar his subconscious. Harry estimated that he had about two more hours before the effects of the potion wore off, and the reality of the world crashed down on him again. Harry hoped he could be back by then; he didn't want Ron to feel alone.

Harry slipped silently from the bedroom, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and stuck his head in the fireplace. He was fairly certain that she would be awake, but just in case he kept his voice at a relatively low volume as he called out, "Hermione?"

He needn't have worried. He heard a sigh before she answered him in a coarse voice, "You might as well come through, Harry."

Harry tumbled out of the fireplace and looked around. He found Hermione sitting on the couch, looking thin and frail; wrapped up in her enormous dressing gown. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and there were soiled tissues strewn everywhere. Harry ignored the mess and moved to sit beside her.

"Did he send you, Harry?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head and gathered his friend into a tight hug as he softly asked, "What happened, Hermione?"

She pulled back from the embrace and searched his face, "He didn't tell you?"

"No," Harry answered, "he didn't."

Her face fell. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said sadly. "I can't tell you."

Harry was confused, hurt, and more than a little concerned; Hermione hadn't kept a secret of this magnitude from him since the summer before fifth year. He took her hands in his and asked, "Why not?"

"Because," Hermione answered softly, "it's not my place to tell, Harry. It has to come from Ron."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione," he whispered, "I don't understand. You love him. I know you love him, and we both know how much he loves you. What on earth could he have possibly done that could be so terrible?"

Tears burned the corners of her brown eyes as she looked directly into the intense gaze of Harry's green ones.

"I'll always love him," she declared as the tears finally escaped; the pale droplets trailing down her cheeks. "I don't want to have to let him go. But I can't be with him, Harry. Not now. Not when I know that I can't make him happy."

"I don't understand, Hermione." Harry pleaded, "Help me to understand, so I can help you fix this!"
Hermione hugged him fiercely. "I love you too," she whispered. "Remember that. You can help me the most by going back now and taking care of him. He needs you right now. You know he needs you."

"Hermione, I can't just leave you like this."

"It's okay, Harry. I'll be all right. Just take care of him for me."

Hermione pulled away from the hug, and reached for another tissue. She wiped her eyes, and gestured toward the fireplace. "I left a bag for you to take. It has his clothes and some other things he'll need. Everything happened so suddenly last night and I know he didn't take anything with him."
Harry nodded numbly as he got up from the couch. He picked up the bag and stepped up to the fireplace. He paused and when he turned back to look at her, Hermione smiled sadly.

"He'll tell you, Harry," she said with conviction. "I know he will. It might take a while because he's stubborn, but I know that eventually he'll tell you. Once he does, I know you'll understand."

The whole conversation had been incredibly strange, but Harry decided to trust Hermione. He nodded to her once more and stepped into the flames.

Days passed. Truth be told, once things calmed down, Harry was thrilled to be living with his best mate again. He'd really missed Ron when he'd moved in with Hermione. He'd lived on his own for years, but no matter how hard he'd tried, Harry had never really got used to it. He liked waking up in the morning and hearing the comforting sound of Ron's breathing from the bed across from him. He liked the spontaneous games of chess, and the conversations about nothing at all. He liked how he didn't have to make plans with his best mate after a hard day at work and could just enjoy Ron's company on a regular basis.

Things weren't perfect. Ron was often struck by fits of melancholy, and it was difficult to spend time with Hermione given the circumstances. Harry was still confused as to why all of this had happened, and why Ron and Hermione wouldn't tell him, but for the most part he was just happy to have Ron to himself again.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months, and things returned to normal, well, almost normal. Things improved somewhat between Ron and Hermione, but Harry never did find out the reason for the abrupt end to their relationship. Ron never said a word about it to Harry, and Harry never asked.

He was roused from a heavy sleep to the sound of Ron screaming his name, and Harry jumped out of bed. His wand was steady in his hand, but there was no sign of an attacker. Ron kicked at the blankets violently in his sleep, obviously in the throes of a vicious nightmare. All the while he continued to scream, "No, Harry, no!"

Harry moved to wake him, trying unsuccessfully to avoid Ron's flailing arms. He was caught by a glancing blow on the side of his face before Harry managed to grab hold of Ron's wrists. "Ron, it's okay," he said as he gently shook his friend. "It's just a nightmare. You're all right."

Blue eyes blinked open and as they focused on the concerned green ones, Ron sat up and crushed Harry to him in a powerful hug. "Oh Godric, Harry!" he sobbed in relief. "I was swimming as hard as I could, and that bloody locket kept pulling you further and further down, and no matter what I tried I just couldn't reach you!"

"It's okay, Ron." Harry said soothingly as he tightened the embrace. "I'm fine. You saved my life that night, remember? You pulled me out of that pool, faced your fears, and destroyed the Horcrux years ago."

Ron pulled back and looked at Harry seriously and said solemnly, "But I didn't."

Harry stared back at Ron incredulously and laughed, "What are you talking about, you great git? I'm sitting in front of you, aren't I?"

Ron shook his head, "That's not what I'm talking about."

"What are you talking about, Ron?" Harry asked softly.

There was a heavy pause, and Ron dropped his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact as he answered in a shaky voice. "I didn't destroy the Horcrux because I faced my fears, Harry. I smashed it because I'm a bloody coward."

"Bollocks!" Harry countered. "I was there, remember? I saw what that piece of Riddle did to you, but you were stronger than him!"

Ron's eyes were wet but determined as he raised them to look Harry in the eye once again. "Do you remember," he asked softly, "the last thing that Riddle showed you before I broke the locket?"

"Yeah, I do," Harry answered. "It was a very unflattering phantom of me kissing Hermione. But we already went through this; you know..."

Harry's words were cut off as Ron suddenly leaned forward, and kissed him fiercely. Harry froze with shock for a second, and then melted into the kiss. It was everything he'd ever wanted, but had never allowed himself to even dream about. It was the reason he never took up again with Ginny or anyone else after he finally defeated Voldemort. It was perfect because it was Ron. This kiss encompassed every desire that he had so carefully hidden and Harry greedily accepted everything Ron had to give him.

The need for air finally overcame them both, and Ron broke the kiss. Looking Harry firmly in the eye once more Ron whispered, "I shattered the Horcrux that night because I was scared of what Riddle was going to show you next. I wasn't afraid of losing Hermione to you, I was afraid of losing you to Hermione."

At his words, Harry suddenly remembered the conversation he had had with Hermione the morning after their relationship had ended for good.

"I don't want to have to let him go. But I can't be with him, Harry. Not now. Not when I know that I can't make him happy."

"So, that's why things with Hermione…" Harry trailed off, not quite feeling able to finish his thought.

But Ron knew what he was trying to ask. He took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and answered, "Yeah, mate. She knows."

In a rush everything made sense and Harry suddenly realized that on that morning, in her own way, Hermione had given him her blessing.

"I love you too," she had whispered. "Remember that. You can help me the most by going back now and taking care of him. He needs you right now. You know he needs you."

Harry raised a hand and carded his fingers through Ron's soft red hair before letting it fall gently to the nape of his neck. He leaned in and kissed Ron again. It was a softer kiss, a slower kiss, but it held no less passion than their first. When Ron kissed him a moment ago it was a question, and this kiss was his answer. Harry poured his heart and soul into it, tried to convey every emotion that he couldn't express with words.

Outside of their flat, lightning crashed, thunder boomed, and the rain came pouring down. But Harry and Ron didn't even notice. The truth was laid bare and they finally found everything they ever wanted. Nothing else mattered. The rest of the world would simply have to wait.