Title: Three Strikes And You're Out.

Rating: PG

Characters: mainly Ron (and Harry), Ron/Draco implied

Summary: Harry had looked as shut off from him as he had ever looked and that had cut Ron to the bone. Harry had looked at him as if he were a stranger. Ron loved Draco but Harry was like a brother, and he couldn't imagine Harry not being there for him – not being there at all. Ron didn't think he could cope with that. Ron knew that he hadn't been the best of friends sometimes, but he could be stupid like that. Harry knew that.

Warnings: Angsty schmoop, AU

Word Count: 965

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

"True friendship is never serene."

Marquise de Sevigne

Second day of his seventh year and Ron had never been more miserable. It was early, earlier than Ron had ever felt necessary to be at the breakfast table. There weren't a lot of people in the Great Hall, but no Gryffindor sat near him. Neville had been the only one who had been friendly in public towards him, before he headed out to his green house – checking on one of his projects no doubt. Ron had declined accompanying him. He knew he would have face the music at some point. He still appreciated what the fair-haired boy had done though. Ron felt amazed and a little guilty at the capacity for friendship that Neville could display. He didn't deserve it. Ron knew people would probably give Neville a hard time for talking to Ron. Neville knew it too.

Ron sighed. He felt tired and harried. He hadn't had much sleep. He pushed his eggs around on his plate. He wasn't all that hungry. It was the first time in a long time that Ron didn't feel like eating breakfast, eating anything at all really. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about all of this. Draco had outed them yesterday evening at dinner by strutting up to the Gryffindor table and wrenching his head back – kissing him possessively. Things had gone downhill from there. He'd been flustered and Draco had walked away smugly. For Draco, his claim settled the matter. For Ron, it had just opened a can of worms he hadn't been ready for.

When Ron had looked up, cheeks burning … Harry's eyes had been filled with something close to betrayal and that hurt Ron far more than he'd expected. He had known it wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't expected to feel such pain either. He hadn't expected to cause so much of it either. He hadn't planned on falling in love with the ferret either this summer. It just happened.

Hermione had stood up calmly as the entire Great Hall exploded in whispers and rumors. She hadn't even looked at him as she passed him by. That had hurt too. Ron still thought that she has never looked more regal than she did then – that she had never been more worthy. He just didn't love her that way. But maybe he should have told her before they got into this mess in the first place. He should have known that Draco wouldn't like Hermione sitting so close, when things hadn't been resolved between the two of them yet. Ron just wished that Draco had let Ron tell his best friends himself and in private.

Ron closed his eyes and ignored Draco trying to catch his attention from the Slytherin table. Draco was uncharacteristically early as well, but didn't try and come up to him. Ron felt that perhaps his Slytherin survival instincts had reared up. The blonde looked worried and perhaps a bit guilty as well. He might be in love with the little prat, but that didn't mean he wasn't pissed as hell at him either. It didn't help that all of the seventh year Slytherins had shown up, silently supporting Draco. Ron was glad that Draco's friends were apparently willing to stand by him, though. His mind hazily wandered back to his own best friends. Maybe he'd been a fool to have thought everything would work out fine. Maybe he'd been deluding himself.

Harry had looked as shut off from him as he had ever looked and that had cut Ron to the bone. Harry had looked at him as if he were a stranger. Ron loved Draco but Harry was like a brother, and he couldn't imagine Harry not being there for him – not being there at all. Ron didn't think he could cope with that. Ron knew that he hadn't been the best of friends sometimes, but he could be stupid like that. Harry knew that.

A touch to his shoulder startled him and made his eyes fly open. Emerald colored eyes, framed by that ever recognizable pair of wired glasses, met his gaze. Harry sat down beside him and Ron looked at him stupidly for a moment. Hope coursed through Ron's veins, something he scarcely had let himself feel during his sleepless hours. His throat burned and his eyes stung. Harry sighed, looking quite tired himself. He hadn't come back to the 7th year dormitory last night. And Ron knew he hadn't, because he had waited up for him most of the night. Harry had probably been with Hermione, trying to comfort her – calm her down. Hermione was formidable when angered.

Harry looked at him steadily. Ron tried to speak, but he couldn't – too overwhelmed by everything that had happened. Harry just put an arm over Ron's shoulders and pulled the larger boy in a hug. Ron clutched a bit desperately at Harry's robes, his head buried in the nook of Harry's collarbone. Harry's left hand carded through his hair and Ron shook – uncaring of who else might see. He pulled back and met Harry's tired gaze. They both looked horrid really, tired and pale. Ron didn't know who set the other off, but they started laughing hysterically. Harry pulled Ron close again, because suddenly it was just Ron laughing, only it seemed more like crying.

"It's okay." Harry whispered in his ear. "Ron, it's okay."

Ron just fisted his hands in Harry's robes and didn't let go. The words felt like absolution and love and friendship - kinship. Something inside Ron soothed and settled as Harry held on just as fiercely.

"I'm sorry." Ron spoke, voice teary. He felt wrung out.

"It's okay." Harry repeated. "it's going to be okay."

And Ron let himself believe it.