*Disclaimer: The characters herein are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.*
Warnings: Slash (Non-Graphic)/ Alcohol Use - This story is Not Cannon Compliant.
*With special thanks to Euclidian: For finding the boys' depth through the industrial strength fluff. :)*
Perfection
"It'll be alright mate; you'll be fine, you'll see."
Harry lurched forward as Ron's large hand clapped him on the back. He looked to his friend and shrugged and Ron just flashed that lopsided grin that always managed to warm some part of him that he forgot existed when the red head wasn't around and Harry smiled in return.
"You're right." He nodded "I know you're right." He reached for the bottle on the coffee table and poured another shot; Ogden's was smooth but the after burn was something else; he grimaced and worried his lower lip between his teeth. "I just… I really thought he was gonna be different. Well, not he as in, him, just… you know."
Ron's gaze was a bit out of focus; he shook his head.
"I mean the relationship. I thought we were gonna be great together."
"You were."
"For… longer."
Ron quirked an eyebrow. "It was nine months!"
"I was going for permanency here."
"What, like… change of address permanency?"
Harry shrugged. "Well, yeah."
"Takin' him home to Mum, permanency?"
Harry nodded.
"Shoppin' for rings, getting' fitted for a fluxedo…"
"Tuxedo."
"Whatever; fightin' over baby names, rooting for the House team, bouncin' grandkids on the knee, retirin' to a private island to start a shell collection, permanency?"
"You're depressing me."
Ron snorted and shook his head. "Yeah… no."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean, 'yeah, no'?"
"He wasn't the one, mate." Ron said simply.
"Thank you… for that, Ron. Since when do you know what I'm looking for in a meaningful relationship with someone I think I might want to spend the rest of my life with?"
Ron leaned back. "Touchy."
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "I'm waiting."
Ron poured himself a shot and raised it to his lips. "I know you, mate; better than you know yourself." He grinned and drained the glass.
Harry nodded, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Really?"
Ron sucked his teeth and set the glass back on the table. "I'm your best mate." He shrugged and leaned back into the sofa. "'S'what I do."
Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. He leaned back against the armrest and spread his hands wide. "Enlighten me." He grinned.
Ron pursed his lips. "Well…" he began. "Obviously you need someone who isn't impressed by the name."
"That's a given." Harry shrugged.
"Right… hence the 'obvious'." He nodded.
"Look at you," Harry grinned. "Speakin' all proper when you're tipsy."
"Shut it or I'll leave you hangin' and you'll never find out what you're looking for in a mate."
Harry mimed sealing his lips and folded his hands in his lap.
"Right, now… Someone who won't spontaneously orgasm at the sight of your scar. Someone who understands Quidditch and loves the sport; preferably a player, but an ardent fan will do just as well."
Harry rolled his eyes. "So far you haven't told me anything…"
"Do I look like I'm finished?"
Harry closed his mouth with a snap.
"Someone who can put up with your irritating impatience." Ron stressed; Harry narrowed his eyes. "And who doesn't find it annoying so much as challenging and endearing." He finished; Harry inclined his head and smiled.
"Someone who isn't going to nag you about inane anniversary dates; like the second anniversary of the first time you held hands under an umbrella during a snow storm in the middle of August."
Harry frowned.
"Don't look at me." Ron shrugged. "I didn't invent these feminine types; I just know they're weird like that."
Harry laughed and shook his head. "Carry on."
"Right. Someone who would take a pint at the Leaky over tea at Madame Pudifoot's any day; someone who's idea of a romantic dinner can include -but is certainly not limited to- eating takeaway by moonlight on the balcony."
Harry snorted as he poured another glass.
"And someone who not only refrains from making nasty comments about your maturity, but appreciates and even encourages your natural born skill in the art that is Bogey Bombing!"
Harry's eyes went wide and he choked as he tried to laugh and swallow his shot at the same time; it took a few moments but he finally managed, much to Ron's amusement.
"You're insane!" he laughed as he wiped at his eyes and set his glass back on the table.
Ron's grin was self satisfied. "But tell me I didn't just describe your perfect partner." He challenged.
Harry smirked and leaned back. "Alright," he nodded. "Go on then."
Ron sat quietly, his grin softening; he leaned forward a bit and spoke softly. "You need someone who isn't intimidated by or afraid of you. Someone who knows your past and will build you up when you start to beat yourself up about it."
Harry frowned and shook his head slightly.
"Someone who won't let you shy away, or withdraw into yourself." Ron said a little louder, leaned a little closer. "Someone who can get you through the nightmares, and talk you down afterward." He said, his hand inching forward over the cushions. "Someone who knows you." He whispered, his hand resting on Harry's knee. "Someone who understands you." Inching up his trembling thigh. "Someone who loves you."
Their eyes met; Ron's wide and searching, Harry's dark and welling over.
"You're right." He whispered, trembling hand reaching up to touch a pale freckled cheek. "That would be perfect."
Ron smiled. "See? Told you I knew what you need."
Harry leaned in close, head tilted to the side. "Not quite everything," He whispered, their breaths mingling. "But we can figure out the rest together."
fin