The only reason this is in two parts is because it was too big to be one part. Stupid computers. This could be a companion piece to Hermione's Flat. if you are reading it for that reason, only read after bit 9. Otherwise you know too much about MyHarry too quickly. If you don't care about Hermione's Flat, no big deal. * are for quotes taken from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I know it's disturbing, but it did say rape in the opening thing. And slash. So people that don't like either, please go away. (and go read Hermione's flat, in which I just added a Draco/Harry sex scene. :P) takes place in 6th year.

Harry sighed. After getting back from another wretched summer with the Dursleys, he was back in the common room, having gotten there with the password 'Feerique Freak'. He didn't know what a Feerique was, but he didn't care, for the first time in weeks he was happy. He was perfectly content with a full stomach, the first time he had eaten an entire meal in weeks, and it was due to the fact he had been able to see Ron. Ron, oh lord, how hard it was to not think of him as His Ron, had been away on a mission for the Order. Charlie, in Romania had asked if the person who had been closest to Norbert could come out, and since Hagrid was out with Olympe, Ron had chosen to go, and spare Hermione, as Harry couldn't go. That slightly annoyed him, not even being asked if he wanted to go, only finding out when his letter to Ron had been unreturned, and Hermione had sent a inconspicuous brown owl telling Harry he wouldn't be able to reach Ron.

And when he got to platform 9 and ¾ and Ron wasn't with Ginny, and the rest of the loving family that had no reason to come, but always did anyway, Harry almost passed out. He, though he was young, certainly knew the dangers of fighting Voldemort, and though he didn't know Ron's orders exactly, he was doing it for the Order, and the Order was fighting Voldemort, so Ron therefore was fighting Voldemort. He could be dead, easily. Harry started hyperventilating, and he fell to his knees on the floor. All the Weasleys, along with a lot of the Gryffindors ran over. He panted out "Ron… dead…?"

Fred and George each grabbed him by an elbow, and pulled him up off the floor. Mrs Weasley hugged him and the twins as one, and said "No, Harry, never!"

"not… here…"

"He's still with Charlie, mate" Fred started.

"but he'll be at Hogwarts within a few weeks." George finished.

So, Harry, for 2 weeks, could barely eat, and couldn't sleep, all his dreams were about a wave of red hair, and a flash of green light, and a cruel voice whispering Avada Kedavra. But then, one night, as the enchanted ceiling black with barely disconcernable clouds flashed with lightning, a dripping wet figure walked in the door. Hermione screamed out "Ron!" and Hermione, Harry and Ginny ran over to him. He wouldn't talk about what he and Charlie had done, but it must have been something bad, because he had scratches all over his body.

Ron was weak, and absolutely exhausted, and after wheezing out a "Hi, guys." he started to feel dizzy. He had three people to lean against, and he had picked Harry. Harry knew it didn't mean anything, but he still felt honoured that his love would rest on him. Dumbledore and Mcgonagal had taken their time walking over to the 4, they may have sensed the teens needed their time together, but when they saw the condition he was in, they morally had to take him to the hospital wing.

Ron didn't want to go, he hadn't been with anyone he loved for months, so he clung to Harry.

"Mr Weasley, you have to go to the hospital wing. Madame Pomphrey will want to look at those scars, she has excellent spells to remove them, you don't want to look that that forever do you?" Mcgonagall said to try to get Ron to leave, but Ron wasn't moving.

Hermione gave it a try. "Ron, don't be a prat. We can come with you, if you really want to be with us that badly, but you must go to the hospital wing."

Ron started to cry on Harry's shoulder. No one understood. He didn't want to go anywhere, he wanted to stay with the people he loved. Hermione, his only girl friend, Harry, the boy who had saved him and the entire world time and time again, and Ginny, a family member he could trust.

Harry pulled away from him. As much as he loved Ron being dependant on him, it made him feel like they were together, and he knew they wouldn't be together. So, he pulled away, and said "Ron, you have to go to Madame Pomphrey to get fixed up."

Dumbledore, who put his hand on Ron's shoulder, and was trying to lead him to the hospital wing, was stopped again. Ron had grabbed Ginny's empty hands. "Ginny, tell them I'm ok, that I don't need to leave you guys."

"Look, Ron, we'll come see you, we promise, but you're hurt, you have to go to the Hospital wing."

So Ron had stayed there for nearly three weeks, and Harry's heart ached. For one thing, he had to go to classes, so he couldn't be with Ron all the time, though between him, and Hermione, and Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley family, and even members of the Order, like Tonks and Remus, he was never alone.

Another thing was, they had healed him really badly in Romania. So badly that when Madame Pomphrey magically scanned him, she saw his ankle was still half broken, and that eventually the hastily mended scars would pop open again. So, she had to use a spell to reverse all of his previous healing, and start it again. When Harry came in, he had decided to skip class to be with Ron, it was right at the point she had undone all past healing. He saw His Ron covered in gaping wounds and writhing in pain, screaming, before passing out. Without remembering the past ten minutes, he found himself in Dumbledore's office, shackled to the wall, Filch standing there smiling dirtily.

"What did I do?"

"Argus, can you please leave the room? I would like to speak to Harry alone."

"What if he attacks you?"

"He may be the boy who lived, but he's not faster then a man of experience. Leave, please."

When Filch left, Harry asked again "What did I do?"

"You were walking into Madame Pomphrey's ward, when she preformed a spell that caused Ron to be in great pain. This distressed you, for you tackled Poppy, and started punching her. Before she could Stun you, you stepped on her wand. She did however, yell loud enough that someone in a nearby hall heard, and immediately ran to get me. Luckily, I wasn't in my office yet, and she didn't need to know the password, which, as I expect you might need it, I may as well tell you is Rolos, a wonderful type of Muggle candy. When I tried to pull you off her, you bit me, so I had to restrain you, until you calmed down. Argus was kind enough to provide me with shackles, but I daresay you're calm enough to be let out. From now on, when you go to visit Ron, someone has to accompany you."

But, Ron got better, and his scars disappeared, and the year progressed. As Ron never talked about what he had done in Romania, it soon became almost forgotten, and Harry never got the scene he wanted, holding Ron again, as Ron laid on his shoulders. As much as he felt bad for Ron, he couldn't deny he loved Ron trusting him.

He loved looking at Ron, the way his fluffy red hair waved every time he moved his head, the way his voice had finally become deeper, and he was now SO manly, it broke his heart. No one that manly could possibly be gay. No, in any of the magazines Harry had discretely bought, and in all of the not perverted 'drink my piss' stuff online, he didn't like the perverted stuff, it was always skinny small boys like him. There were never any possible Ron's in the crowd of forgettable faces.

But, Harry didn't sleep anymore. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. Ever since he was a child, used to getting up over an hour early to make Dudley's breakfast, and staying up to late hours of the night, doing chores, he didn't need much sleep. Maybe about 5 hours a night. But now, it was much worse. Ever time he dreamed, it was either about Sirius, or Cedric, and he couldn't stand the guilt of the fact that he killed them. He maybe slept 4 days a week, and for only about 3 hours, then he would wake up, and cry for about a hour, before going to the common room.

Except, lately, he hadn't been going to the common room. He had been sitting up, and looking at Ron through the undrawn curtains. It wasn't like he got a sick thrill out of voeyurism, he didn't even do anything besides look at Ron. It was just that, Ron looked like so many strong steady things, and Harry, besides loving Ron, yearned for steady strong truths. Not to say he didn't want to shag Ron, he wanted to do anything and everything to him, but Harry wouldn't push himself on Ron, not after being friends for just over 5 years.

Then Harry found out Professor Dumbledore wanted Harry to continue on with his Occlumency lessons. Harry, of course, didn't want to. He hated Snape, and he hated occlumency, and all the things it reminded him of. Not only the things in his past, the events that had occurred last year, every time he even heard the word occlumency, he knew it was his fault that Sirius was dead. Well, it wasn't like he ever forgot it was his fault Sirius was dead, but he did sometimes forget to remember about Sirius being dead. Things like black dogs and the hill near Hogsmede that they had gone by in fourth (AN, I'm pretty sure it was 4th year) year, they all reminded him of Sirius. Plus, it would send Harry through a stream of bad memories, and he was positive they would be added on to all the old ones.

And so, Harry's Thursdays were utterly miserable. He saw Cedric, he saw Sirius, he saw his arm being sliced open by Wormtail, he saw Dudley and Peirs and the rest beating on him.A-can't talk, or B-doesnt want to talk.

But one Thursday, in mid-January, he saw snippets of a memory he could not remember. Harry wandered out of his cupboard carefully. He was almost positive that Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were in their rooms asleep. It was after 3 in the morning, they should be asleep. He went into the computer room. He wanted to go on chat again, people were so friendly online, no one knew he was only allowed a shower twice a week, no one wouldn't talk to him because they were being threatened by Dudley. Except, he was only 98% sure they were all asleep, and as it turned out, Vernon was awake. Harry saw he was looking at that disgusting stuff online, and closed almost closed the door. He couldn't close it fully, because if he did, it would make a clicking noise, and Uncle Vernon would know that someone had been up.

"Potter, what on earth was that?" Snape asked

"I don't know. I don't remember it as being a bad memory. That was the first time I had seen it!"

Snape blanched. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! I think I would remember seeing that kind of sick crap!"

"Potter, I think we should stop the lessons."

"Why? I want to know what that was. Could it be a memory of a bad dream, or

something?"

"Yes, I'm sure that's it."

"I'll be here next Thursday."

"Potter."

"I need this!"

"Fine, Potter, but don't blame me for your disturbing images."

The next Thursday he went back to the dungeons, and the first memory that came up, was one that shouldn't have come up, and it was strange. It shouldn't have been a bad memory, so it shouldn't have been attracted to the spell, and it wasn't how Harry remembered it. he knew he was having sex with someone, he could obviously feel it. He was the bottom, but he didn't see the beginning of the memory, so he didn't know who the top was. He had his eyes closed, and seemed to be crying, though he didn't know why. The sex didn't feel great, but it wasn't horrible, it certainly shouldn't have made him cry. Unless… maybe he was crying from happiness? But it was supposed to be a bad memory, so that couldn't be right. He heard a rattling noise, so he looked up. *He opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone was goggling through the bars at him: a freckle-faced, red-haired, long nosed someone. Ron Weasley was outside Harry's window.* Ron opened his mouth to say something and

"No more, Potter! I will not subject you to this anymore. Get out of my dungeon! I don't want to see you back here!"

"But Professor Snape, Dumbledore wants me to continue, why don't you want to teach me?" it wasn't so much that he cared about what Dumbledore wanted, and it wasn't so much that he was upset Snape didn't want to teach him. Actually, he was pretty happy about that.

The thing that bothered him, is why did he have all these memories he couldn't remember? Something was up, and Snape, judging by the shifty eyes, and blanched skin, knew what it was.

"I'm 16, I have the right to know what's going on. Dumbledore promised me last year, no more secrets. You have to tell me what's going on!" Harry whined.

"Potter, you know what you should know. Anything more, would change everything you thought about yourself. You do not need to know, you should not want to know, and if you were told, you would immediately wish you hadn't asked. Go to your common room."

"Tell me!"

"I will start taking points off your house."

"Tell me!"

"50."

"Tell me"

"100."

"Tell me!"

"500."

Harry blanched. He ran from the room. If Snape, the greasy git, wouldn't tell him, maybe Dumbledore, or one of the other teachers would.

He went to Dumbledore's office. "Rolos."

The door opened, and he went to Albus. "Professor, tell me why I have alternate memories for the things that happened during my summer between level 2 and 3."

"Harry, I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You said last year…"

"I know what I said last year. The fact remains, if I told you, you would be appalled, and I can absolutely, 100 percent assure you not knowing will do nothing to hurt you or people around you."

Harry stalked out of the room, getting more and more mad on his walk to the common room. By the time he reached the potrait, he was so furious that he punched the stone wall several times.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry hadn't seen anyone in the common room, his anger was a haze that drowned out anything else, but it was only 7:30, the room was full of people.

"Hermione, I need you to do a spell on me."

"Care to tell me why you were breaking your knuckles on the wall?" Ron asked.

"It has to do with the spell I need Hermione to do."

"You know, Madame Pomphrey is really a much better healer. I shouldn't heal your broken knuckles, she should."

"Yeah, trust me, you DON'T want her to have to remend them." Ron reminded Harry.

"Yah, I know, that's not it. Hermione, I need you to do a spell on me, or find another spell that would be easier to work, that you could use on me?"

"Like what? I'm not just going to do any random spell on you."

"I need you to perform the occlumency spell on me."

"Why? I thought Snape did all of that."

"No, he's refusing to do it, now that I want to see this memory."

"Harry, you're not trying to beat yourself up by seeing Sirius, are you? Cause, I don't know how many times I have to tell you-"

"No, Ron, it's nothing to do with him. You know when you and Fred and George came to pick me up? Well, in my occlumency, it came up, but with a different part to it. And the Thursday before, I had memories I've never seen before."

"Well, I don't know what to say about me and the twins coming to pick you up, but don't you think you could have just forgot whatever it was?"

"No, trust me, it was something I would remember. Hermione, you have to help me figure out why I have alternate memories. Please?" Harry pleaded.

"Fine, it might take a few days though."

About a week later, Harry saw Hermione again. She had spent almost her entire waking hours looking for a spell for Harry, as she was honoured he trusted her enough to ask her.

"It's a spell for image recapitulation! You have to pick a flat wall for a receptor, and it projects you images onto the surface!"

Ron asked, "Would you mind repeating that, in English, please?"

"In lamens terms, you pick a memory you only remember a fragment of, and it shows the entire thing on the nearest flat surface, like a tabletop or a wall. It doesn't just show the memory, however, it shows things around it that people would need to know. For example, say you committed a murder then later on couldn't remember doing it, so you performed this. Well, the spell would not only show the murder, it would show you your feelings as you did it, what lead up to it. Its rather like narrator in a television program."

"Television?" Ron asked, but Harry understood.

"Do you want us to stay, or should we leave?"

"Well, its not that I don't trust you, but they are my private memories." and not that Harry believed Snape was a good teacher, or anything, but if it would change the way Harry would look at himself, did he really need his two best friends, including a boy he had a crush on, seeing it?

"We get it."

"Yeah, come see us in the library when you're done."