At first, they were simple. The things Harry noticed. Something as simple as different colored socks. But then he noticed the smaller, more intimate things.
A new freckle. A hangnail. He even noticed when Ron dotted his "i's" or crossed his "t's" differently.
Harry knew what this was. He'd felt it before, just…with girls. Not boys. Especially not boys that are his best friends.
Ron knew quite well that Harry liked him. He was just too afraid to face his feelings. He was curious, but he wasn't sure. Ron's mind had circulated the possibility of a relationship many times, and it warmed his heart, but then again, maybe Harry was just a really good friend.
The Gryffindor common room was particularly cold this evening. The fire hadn't yet been lit. Harry was upstairs, fiddling around with who-knows-what in his trunk. Ron was sitting downstairs, doing his homework, an event that almost never occurs.
Maybe Harry thought he heard someone call him. Maybe he forgot something downstairs.
All that mattered was that Harry found himself with Ron on the loveseat, and they found themselves, finally, happy. Confusion left the air, and it was glorious.
This moment precedes many more, in the near future. A blanket thrown over two sets of shoulders or legs, mugs full of steaming hot cocoa, and a stolen kiss…or two. Or three.
Just pure love. Yes, love, like all the movies where the best guy friend swoops in to save the girl from her horrid love life. Except, there's two guys.
And that's okay.