During the summer before sixth year began, Harry was thrown into a
crash course in all sorts of magic. Ron never knew exactly what was
going on, because no one saw fit to tell him. His mother would click
her tongue and tell him to dust the living room, his father was always
too busy to listen properly to anything, the twins would smirk loftily
and tell him he was too young to be told because they, in fact, had no
idea, and Moody's magical eye never rested on him long enough for him
to squeeze out the question.
It would have been nice to be with Harry more often. Even though he was living at Grimmauld Place, he might as well have been at the Burrow and Harry at Privet Drive for all they saw of each other. Early in the morning Harry was dragged out of bed and taken to the attic of headquarters which had been cleared by the Ministry of Magic as an acceptable zone for the flouting of the Decree for Restriction of Underage/Under Aged Wizardry. Ron was left to spend his days with Hermione, who only seemed to have time to read; whether it was ancient spells that might come in useful for the impending war or the advanced level spells she was learning for Transfiguration.
In short, life was dreary. The twins were absent, having vacated Grimmauld Place to start their business on Diagon Alley. The adult members of the Order never had time for Ron. They were always rushing in and out; setting off the portrait of Sirius's mother, wolfing down morsels of Mrs. Weasley's cooking while standing up before disapparating.
One evening after supper, four weeks before school was scheduled to start, Ron left Hermione in the kitchen with her studies and collapsed on his bed upstairs. A cat he had never seen before pushed open the door to the room he shared with Harry and leapt up beside him. Ron smiled vaguely and scratched the soft animal. It purred and arched its back. Ron continued stroking it, glad that there was some living being in this house who acknowledged his presence.
The beautiful calico nuzzled his palm and curled into his lap. Ron cooed to it, dipping his head to look into the large glassy eyes. He gathered the cat in his arms and held it upside down to rub it's belly.
They shared Ron's bed together until the light coming in the windows turned gray. The cat then hopped off the bed and left the room, leaving Ron feeling lonely.
The next night, the cat was back. Ron hadn't bothered to ask anyone whose it was, since no one paid any attention to him anyway. There were tons of stray things in the old building. Stray house elves, doxies, boggarts and ancestors; it only made sense there would be a cat as well.
The cat padded towards Ron where he lay flat on his back and settled himself on his chest. Ron grinned and petted him until he fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, the cat was gone and Kingsley Shaklebolt had arrived to take Harry off to his lessons.
Days passed, and every night the cat came to Ron. He must have been so lonely that he started talking to the cat, knowing he wasn't being understood, but appreciating the affectionate rough tongue on his chin nonetheless. Ron talked about how he missed being with his best friends, how he wanted to practice Quidditch again, how he was worried about Harry, how he hoped the twins' joke shop did well, and how he didn't want to lose any more members of his family. He was more honest with his new friend than he had ever been with anyone, even himself.
Two weeks before school began, Ron endured a day was so long and boring that he was sitting up and waiting for the cat he now called 'his' to arrive at his room. Not only did he consider the cat his own, but he'd given it a name. Spots. The feline rubbed against his legs and Ron lifted him into his lap, stroking the lean body lovingly.
"I'm glad you visit me, Spots" he said, kissing the cat on the top of his fuzzy head. He chatted quietly for a bit, but was soon yawning. He shucked his clothing and pulled on his pajamas. When he turned back to the bed, the cat was sitting there watching him keenly, black-tipped tail twitching. "Voyeur," he accused jokingly, pulling back the covers and climbing in. His cat purred and curled up under the edge of the duvet he held open.
Spots tucked his head under Ron's chin. Ron fell asleep to the rhythmic hum of the cat's purr.
Ron was awakened when he felt the body under his arm shift. Assuming his cat was just finding a more comfortable position, he closed his eyes and prepared to fall back to sleep.
But Spots didn't stop. Ron opened his eyes and gasped out loud at what Spots of doing. He was transforming or something. His whole body was shifting and changing shape. In less than six seconds, Spots was a human. Black hair tickled Ron's neck.
"Harry?"
Harry's eyes flew open. Immediately registering where he was, he panicked and jumped out the bed, backing away from Ron like a cornered animal. He stammered something unintelligible. Ron squinted at him, unable to think of something to say.
"Harry, are you an animagus?"
Harry shook and looked as though he might cry.
Ron threw off the covers and approached Harry slowly. The boy looked animalistic and afraid, cringing as Ron drew nearer. It made Ron's chest constrict to see Harry like this. So vulnerable and afraid, as if he, Ron, might sever his last thread of hope.
Closing the space between them, Ron grabbed Harry's hands and followed him to the floor, sitting on his knees. Staring at Harry, he started to make connections. Spots was Harry. He'd been pouring his soul out to Harry. He's snuggled with Harry. He loved it.
It was clear Harry was in no condition to hear words. Maybe he'd been in his animal form for too long. Whatever it was, Ron pulled him off the floor and onto his bed. Harry still struggled against him, eyes wide. Ron's size won over and he managed to pin Harry to the mattress, lying on top of him protectively, winding his arms around him tightly.
He spoke soothingly. "It's okay, Spots, everything is fine." He stroked Harry's face the way he had touched him as a cat. Harry's breathing slowed and his eyes fell closed. Ron was stuck by just how much Harry had been affected by the previous two months' events. He couldn't handle the emotion he was feeling. What more closely affected Ron was that Harry had been transforming into a cat to come sleep with him every night, as if Ron wouldn't have accepted him as a human.
Ron's eyes stung and he continued to mumble reassurances to Harry, who curled himself up and pressed his warm body into Ron's. His tongue flicked out to Ron's neck, no longer feeling like sandpaper. It was very much Harry, hot and wet and very, very intimate. Ron shivered.
Harry seemed to have forgotten he was in human form. Ron rolled off of him so they were lying side by side and Harry made a humming sound in his throat and moved closer. Ron smiled the way someone does who has just pulled their lover out of a churning sea of sharks and wrapped an arm tightly around Harry's waist. Together, they slept.
As usual, it was Kingsley who pushed open the door to the boys' room early the next morning to collect Harry for lessons. He was expecting to see Harry and Ron in their separate beds, sleeping fitfully like they always did. Today, however, Harry's bed was empty and there was a large lump under the covers of Ron's where both boys were cuddled, their arms around each other, lazy grins on their tired faces. His eyes popped and he backed out the door, closing it quietly.
Kingsley ran down the stairs to the kitchen, where other adult members of the order were up and about. "Arthur, you'd better come check on your son."
Arthur Weasley looked up from the Daily Prophet and blinked. "Why?"
"Just go." Kingsley took a seat at the table and asked for a brandy as Mr. Weasley left the room, feeling a little worried.
As soon as he reached his son's bedroom, of course, all worry dissipated. He mentally slapped Kingsley for making him fret and closed the door again. When he turned around, his wife as behind him, twisting her hands. "Calm down, Molly, they're fine. I think we should let them sleep in today. They've earned it."
She raised an eyebrow but agreed. A sign was magicked to the door which read, 'Boys Snuggling. No Entry.'
Ron woke up the next morning and jumped to see Harry's face two centimeters away from his, eyes wide. As soon as Harry saw he was awake, he placed a chaste kiss on Ron's lips.
It was just too wonderful. Ron threw back his head and laughed heartily for the first time in months.
"I am an animagus, Ron," Harry started to explain. "Lupin has been teaching me to transform, but I'm still an amateur. I can't maintain my animal form when I'm sleeping.
Ron squeezed Harry tightly. "I love you, Spots. Harry. I love you."
Harry choked and closed his hands into fists full of Ron's pajamas. He couldn't speak, but Ron didn't need to hear him say it.
---
Please review.
It would have been nice to be with Harry more often. Even though he was living at Grimmauld Place, he might as well have been at the Burrow and Harry at Privet Drive for all they saw of each other. Early in the morning Harry was dragged out of bed and taken to the attic of headquarters which had been cleared by the Ministry of Magic as an acceptable zone for the flouting of the Decree for Restriction of Underage/Under Aged Wizardry. Ron was left to spend his days with Hermione, who only seemed to have time to read; whether it was ancient spells that might come in useful for the impending war or the advanced level spells she was learning for Transfiguration.
In short, life was dreary. The twins were absent, having vacated Grimmauld Place to start their business on Diagon Alley. The adult members of the Order never had time for Ron. They were always rushing in and out; setting off the portrait of Sirius's mother, wolfing down morsels of Mrs. Weasley's cooking while standing up before disapparating.
One evening after supper, four weeks before school was scheduled to start, Ron left Hermione in the kitchen with her studies and collapsed on his bed upstairs. A cat he had never seen before pushed open the door to the room he shared with Harry and leapt up beside him. Ron smiled vaguely and scratched the soft animal. It purred and arched its back. Ron continued stroking it, glad that there was some living being in this house who acknowledged his presence.
The beautiful calico nuzzled his palm and curled into his lap. Ron cooed to it, dipping his head to look into the large glassy eyes. He gathered the cat in his arms and held it upside down to rub it's belly.
They shared Ron's bed together until the light coming in the windows turned gray. The cat then hopped off the bed and left the room, leaving Ron feeling lonely.
The next night, the cat was back. Ron hadn't bothered to ask anyone whose it was, since no one paid any attention to him anyway. There were tons of stray things in the old building. Stray house elves, doxies, boggarts and ancestors; it only made sense there would be a cat as well.
The cat padded towards Ron where he lay flat on his back and settled himself on his chest. Ron grinned and petted him until he fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, the cat was gone and Kingsley Shaklebolt had arrived to take Harry off to his lessons.
Days passed, and every night the cat came to Ron. He must have been so lonely that he started talking to the cat, knowing he wasn't being understood, but appreciating the affectionate rough tongue on his chin nonetheless. Ron talked about how he missed being with his best friends, how he wanted to practice Quidditch again, how he was worried about Harry, how he hoped the twins' joke shop did well, and how he didn't want to lose any more members of his family. He was more honest with his new friend than he had ever been with anyone, even himself.
Two weeks before school began, Ron endured a day was so long and boring that he was sitting up and waiting for the cat he now called 'his' to arrive at his room. Not only did he consider the cat his own, but he'd given it a name. Spots. The feline rubbed against his legs and Ron lifted him into his lap, stroking the lean body lovingly.
"I'm glad you visit me, Spots" he said, kissing the cat on the top of his fuzzy head. He chatted quietly for a bit, but was soon yawning. He shucked his clothing and pulled on his pajamas. When he turned back to the bed, the cat was sitting there watching him keenly, black-tipped tail twitching. "Voyeur," he accused jokingly, pulling back the covers and climbing in. His cat purred and curled up under the edge of the duvet he held open.
Spots tucked his head under Ron's chin. Ron fell asleep to the rhythmic hum of the cat's purr.
Ron was awakened when he felt the body under his arm shift. Assuming his cat was just finding a more comfortable position, he closed his eyes and prepared to fall back to sleep.
But Spots didn't stop. Ron opened his eyes and gasped out loud at what Spots of doing. He was transforming or something. His whole body was shifting and changing shape. In less than six seconds, Spots was a human. Black hair tickled Ron's neck.
"Harry?"
Harry's eyes flew open. Immediately registering where he was, he panicked and jumped out the bed, backing away from Ron like a cornered animal. He stammered something unintelligible. Ron squinted at him, unable to think of something to say.
"Harry, are you an animagus?"
Harry shook and looked as though he might cry.
Ron threw off the covers and approached Harry slowly. The boy looked animalistic and afraid, cringing as Ron drew nearer. It made Ron's chest constrict to see Harry like this. So vulnerable and afraid, as if he, Ron, might sever his last thread of hope.
Closing the space between them, Ron grabbed Harry's hands and followed him to the floor, sitting on his knees. Staring at Harry, he started to make connections. Spots was Harry. He'd been pouring his soul out to Harry. He's snuggled with Harry. He loved it.
It was clear Harry was in no condition to hear words. Maybe he'd been in his animal form for too long. Whatever it was, Ron pulled him off the floor and onto his bed. Harry still struggled against him, eyes wide. Ron's size won over and he managed to pin Harry to the mattress, lying on top of him protectively, winding his arms around him tightly.
He spoke soothingly. "It's okay, Spots, everything is fine." He stroked Harry's face the way he had touched him as a cat. Harry's breathing slowed and his eyes fell closed. Ron was stuck by just how much Harry had been affected by the previous two months' events. He couldn't handle the emotion he was feeling. What more closely affected Ron was that Harry had been transforming into a cat to come sleep with him every night, as if Ron wouldn't have accepted him as a human.
Ron's eyes stung and he continued to mumble reassurances to Harry, who curled himself up and pressed his warm body into Ron's. His tongue flicked out to Ron's neck, no longer feeling like sandpaper. It was very much Harry, hot and wet and very, very intimate. Ron shivered.
Harry seemed to have forgotten he was in human form. Ron rolled off of him so they were lying side by side and Harry made a humming sound in his throat and moved closer. Ron smiled the way someone does who has just pulled their lover out of a churning sea of sharks and wrapped an arm tightly around Harry's waist. Together, they slept.
As usual, it was Kingsley who pushed open the door to the boys' room early the next morning to collect Harry for lessons. He was expecting to see Harry and Ron in their separate beds, sleeping fitfully like they always did. Today, however, Harry's bed was empty and there was a large lump under the covers of Ron's where both boys were cuddled, their arms around each other, lazy grins on their tired faces. His eyes popped and he backed out the door, closing it quietly.
Kingsley ran down the stairs to the kitchen, where other adult members of the order were up and about. "Arthur, you'd better come check on your son."
Arthur Weasley looked up from the Daily Prophet and blinked. "Why?"
"Just go." Kingsley took a seat at the table and asked for a brandy as Mr. Weasley left the room, feeling a little worried.
As soon as he reached his son's bedroom, of course, all worry dissipated. He mentally slapped Kingsley for making him fret and closed the door again. When he turned around, his wife as behind him, twisting her hands. "Calm down, Molly, they're fine. I think we should let them sleep in today. They've earned it."
She raised an eyebrow but agreed. A sign was magicked to the door which read, 'Boys Snuggling. No Entry.'
Ron woke up the next morning and jumped to see Harry's face two centimeters away from his, eyes wide. As soon as Harry saw he was awake, he placed a chaste kiss on Ron's lips.
It was just too wonderful. Ron threw back his head and laughed heartily for the first time in months.
"I am an animagus, Ron," Harry started to explain. "Lupin has been teaching me to transform, but I'm still an amateur. I can't maintain my animal form when I'm sleeping.
Ron squeezed Harry tightly. "I love you, Spots. Harry. I love you."
Harry choked and closed his hands into fists full of Ron's pajamas. He couldn't speak, but Ron didn't need to hear him say it.
---
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