TITLE: A Good Man is Easy to Kill
AUTHOR: Ash
RATING: T perhaps more later on depending on the mood I'm in.
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potternot mine.
SUMMARY:Surprise Pairing! "Maybe we'll pass a suit of armor on the way to the Infirmary and I can impale you on its sword." Because I love Ron, and while he is a main character, he's still under appreciated.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I started this two months ago and I just figured out where I'm going with it...doesn't that feel great:sigh: Well I don't really want to give too much away because, as displayed in the summary, it's just a surprise pairing, hopefully one you love or can grow to love as I have. Thanks to Polaris25 for introducing me to this ship, I'll shower more praise when it's all more apparent.
On to the story? Enjoy!
Ron Weasley was sitting up in bed and peeking through his bed curtains into a crack in the ones of his best friend, Harry Potter.
'The famous Harry Potter, the bloody boy who lived,' Ron furrowed his brow. 'Where did that come from?'
Ron had been Harry's best friend since they were both eleven and high-voiced; he'd never felt any kind of jealousy like that before...
Okay, so maybe he had...quite a bit actually...but he always just decided that Harry was his best friend, he'd had a hard life, and he wanted him to be happy. But no thoughts of joy seemed to surface.
'Why couldn't Voldemort kill him?' Ron thought, 'Just because of that bloody prophecy? That's ridiculous. I'll bet I could kill him right now--'
Ron sat up.
His eyes widened in shock and he looked down at his hands.
'I didn't just think that.'
But he did.
For the next week Ron had dreams of murdering his best friend. Holding a pillow over his face and smothering him, knocking him off his broom at quidditch practice, poisoning his pumpkin juice at dinner... And each morning he'd wake up to Harry's smiling face, shaking him and telling him to shower and dress for breakfast.
Ron had a dilemma.
On the ninth day when Harry drowned at the hands, or the tentacles as it were, of the Giant Squid after Ron threw him in the lake, he knew he needed help.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Ron?"
It was the first snow of the season and everyone was outside playing except for Hermione who was curled up with a book on one of the couches in the Gryffindor's common room. Ron's mind had decided on the most cheerful time of the year to decide to kill Harry.
"I was wondering what you could tell me about dreams..."
Hermione closed her book. "What about them? What kind?"
"Oh, just the normal kind..." Not the kind that make me a snake slithering around the Ministry, trying to kill my dad...
'Why does everything always come back to Harry?'
"Well, dreams originate from the frontal lobe, where your emotions are regulated...they say dreams help solve unresolved conflicts, reduce emotional tension, and unlock hidden parts of the personality. You could love someone and not even know it..."
Or hate.
"Thanks, Hermione."
"Anytime, Ron."
'Great. I hate my best friend, and I don't even know why!'
"Ron! Hermione!"
And there Harry stood at the door, drenched in snow, with Ginny at his side.
'Maybe that's why I hate him...because he's dating my sister.'
"Snow, guys! Come outside! Enjoy yourselves!"
"Oh, alright..." Hermione stood, "Coming Ron?"
"Erm...no...I've got...potions I haven't finished. You go ahead."
Ron ran up to the seventh year boys' dormitory and collapsed on his bed. He hadn't lied, he did have potions to do, he hardly ever did it, but to keep himself from being a murderer and a liar, he cracked open his book and began reading chapter eight. He was asleep within minutes.
But it didn't last long, Ron was being woken up soon after, by the same person he was in the process of drowning in the huge tub in the prefect's bathroom.
"Ron, what's wrong with you? You've missed dinner!"
Ron jolted up, his dream was still so fresh in his mind that he reached out and wrapped his hands around Harry's neck and began to strangle him. He started moving him back and pushed him down on his bed so he was covering him, over-powering him.
'The life of the great Harry Potter literally in my hands.'
Harry began to gurgle and gag incoherently as his face flashed an angry red and a fat vein from his temple became steadily more prominent.
"...ggon! Gon! grron! RON!"
A flying limb hit Ron in the gut, hard enough to paralyze him for a moment. Harry sat up, "What is wrong with you!"
Seeming to have finally snapped out of it, Ron was sitting up and looking down at his hands again. "I don't know," he whispered.
"You do realize you just tried to kill me, don't you!"
"I wasn't...that wasn't what I was doing."
"You were about to throttle me Ron!" Harry stood up and started rubbing the back of his neck. "You avoid me all week and then attack--"
"I did not attack you!" Ron was standing now and made his way to the door. "I was having a dream and then...you woke me up and...I was confused. I'm sorry, Harry!"
And he was sorry, Ron was incredibly sorry. He'd been sorry all week for having these dreams. Wanting to kill your best friend is definitely not normal...your famous best friend who gets all the attention and praise. No, Ron didn't want him dead at all.
Harry was still eyeing Ron cautiously and spoke slowly when he said, "Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey."
"Maybe I will," Ron said. His fingers graced the doorknob and he heard Harry sigh behind him.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
'Yes, come with me, Harry. Maybe we'll pass a suit of armor on the way to the Infirmary and I can impale you on its sword.'
"No Harry it's alright...I'm alright. I'll see you later."
And off Ron went, wishing silently all the way through the cold, dark corridors that Madam Pomfrey had one hell of a Dreamless Draught handy.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: In conclusion, how much do we love Ron? SO MUCH! Review please!
