Author: elenorecanard
Prompt: "First time"
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 100 x 6
Author's notes: Written for harryron100 at livejournal.
The first time I saw him, he was one in a mass of redheads. He looked like he belonged there, running right through to Platform 9 3/4. Like it was totally normal. He didn't boggle at me. Surprised to be sure, but he was the one who didn't dwell on it and make me feel like an oddity. He taught me my first lessons about a world I never knew existed. From the moment we stepped on that train, we were inseparable. We did everything together. The very first time I saw him, he became my very first friend.
…:::...:::..:::…
The first time he tried to sacrifice himself for me was the first of many. We were only eleven. We hadn't even finished our first year of school. And there he was, standing on a giant chess board and commanding himself directly into the line of fire so I could go on. It was also the first time I had ever feared losing him; another common occurrence over the span of our lives. I remember waking in the hospital wing and he was the first one I asked about; the first one I needed to know was alive and alright.
…:::..:::..:::…
The first time I had a family, it was his. He swooped, or rumbled, as the case may be, up to my window with his brothers, and literally broke me out of my aunt and uncle's house. It was the first time I had brothers. The first time I understood 'mother' and 'father', his mother insisted on feeding me until I couldn't eat any more and his father was enthusiastically discussing his sons' accomplishments. The first sister I had squeaked and ran away from me. His family taught me what the word meant. He was the first family I had.
…:::..:::..:::…
The first time we argued, it was hell. He didn't trust me, didn't believe me, wouldn't talk to me or listen to me. I thought I would die. I could have. And really, that's what terrified me. Not the dying part. I'd faced death three times in as many years. The part that scared me was that I could die, and he would never know the truth, never have listened to my side of the story. But, with the first fight, comes the first apology, and standing there, shaking hands, with Hermione looking on, I knew everything would be alright.
...:::..:::..:::…
The first time we kissed, we were both very confused. We had barely escaped to safety. Again. Ron had barely ducked out of the way of a Killing Curse, knocking me out of the way of another one. I was just so relieved that he was okay that I didn't think about what I was doing before I kissed him. I hadn't told him how I felt about him. I didn't know how I felt about him. But it didn't take long for him to wrap his arms around me and kiss me back. It wasn't our last kiss, either.
…:::..:::..:::…
The first time we made love, we were in a tent in the woods. It was one of the rare times during that long year that we had any time alone. It was a genuine first for both of us, and all we knew, we had heard in rumors. It was a rushed, clumsy blur of bodies, but the emotions, love and desire and need; those were what were important then. We were scared, making sure that we didn't procrastinate through our only chances at life. It wasn't perfect then. Probably still isn't. We've got time to get it right.