Title:Medical Wing
Rated: M
Warning: Slash, don't like it, don't read it... (H/R, H/SS (rape))
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just like to fool with 'em.
Spoilers: Books 1-6 are fair game...
"Ugh, potions," thought Harry while he looked at Ron. "Oh, he's so cute, chewing on his quill." Suddenly, he smiled and felt himself blush. He pulled his book onto his lap. Ron looked at him.
"He, mate, give me your book."
"No Ron."
"You've got the HBP, c'mon, share the wealth."
"I said NO!"
"Harry!" Ron sighed, grabbed the book and threw it on the table. He was just turning a page when he noticed something. Harry had turned the color of fuchsia.
"Harry, what is it?"
"Nothing," he tried to discreetly lift his legs higher.
"Oh, Merlin, don't tell me."
Harry didn't respond.
"Are you thinking about Hermione?"
"Shut up."
"Here," he handed Harry the book, which he gratefully laid on his lap.
Potions finished with no other incidents. Harry hoped Ron had forgotten the predicament he had been in. He found out after dinner, this was not so.
They were sitting in the dormitory, Harry chewing on a sugar quill he had gotten at Honey-Dukes, Ron re-reading his Chudley Canons book. Ron looked over at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Who were you thinking of?"
"When? What're you talking about?"
"You know! In potions..." he gestured his hand in a circle, motioning Harry to finish the sentence.
"you...ok? YOU!"
"Harry, really?" he looked relieved. Harry was amazed; he had thought Ron would be angry or disgusted. Ron smiled sheepishly and blushed, "Me, too."
Two days later, the boys had a quidditch game to play. They walked down to the locker room, an awkward silence between them. Harry walked into the scarlet and gold room and grinned at his team mates' smiling faces. "Ok, this is Hufflepuff, and we've got great playing conditions, so I'm not TOO worried. Just try your best."
He heard a mumble of "Ok's" and "Yeah's" and everyone shouldered their brooms and headed towards the pitch.
He shook hands with the Hufflepuff captain and swung his leg over his broom. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and he soared above everyone. He circled the crowd, looking for any hint of gold. After about 15 minutes, he saw the snitch flitting past him. He didn't see the bludger headed for him, nor did anyone else. As he grasped the small, golden ball, it hit him in the back with a deafening crack, knocking the wind out of him. He fell, still holding up the struggling ball.
Harry opened his eyes to see a very blurred room. At first he was worried, but then he tried to shove his glasses up his nose and poked himself in the eye. He then realized his glasses were on the bedside table.
"Harry?"
"AHH!" He stared at the red-head holding his hand, sitting in an extremely uncomfortable chair next to his bed.
"What happened, Ron?"
"Well..." he grimaced and closed his eyes, "you won the match."
"But?"
"Harry, it's not for sure, but if it's true, Madame Pomfrey says there's nothing she can do..."
"What's not for sure? What can't Madame Pomfrey fix?"
"I don't really know how to say this..." he chewed on his lip, thinking.
"Just tell me already," Harry blurted, feeling flustered.
"Can you move your toes?"
"What? What has that got to do with it?"
Ron ripped off his blanket, exposing Harry's bare chest and boxer clad legs, "Just try and move your toes."
"Are they moving?"
"No."
Harry frowned. This wasn't right, the only reason he would have a problem moving his toes was if he was paralyzed.
He felt hot tears running down his face and Ron pulled him into a tight hug. "I so sorry Harry, I'm so sorry."
Harry's body shook with sobs. "I'll never play quidditch again. I'll never walk again."
"I know, but Hermione and I will take care of you, we will. I promise."
He held Harry until the sobbing boy fell asleep in his arms.
Harry woke up in the dark to a noise. It sounded like someone was shuffling around the infirmary. "Ron?" His voice shook. As he sat up, using his hands to support himself, he felt the bed under him was wet. He hadn't wet the bed in years.
"No, not Ron..." The sick drawl made his stomach churn and he was sure he wet the bed again. H could now see the outline of his potions teacher next to him. Harry's heart was racing. Snape laid a hand on the boy's thigh. Harry didn't feel it, but watched the cold fingers curl around the bruised flesh.
He tried desperately to jerk his leg away, but, of course, couldn't. "Ma-Madame Pomfrey?" he whispered, about to cry.
"Don't worry," Snape sneered, "I slipped her a great sleeping draught so we'll have our privacy."
Harry winced and closed his eyes. He could fight off Snape with his hands, but then how would he get away? Snape put his face next to Harry. Harry could feel the greasiness radiating off him. Snape ran a hand through the boys jet black hair. "Don't," Harry breathed through gritted teeth.
"So you're a big boy now? Then you'll play by big boy rules." Snape grabbed him, flipped him over and ripped off his shorts. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he heard a zipper being undone.
Hermione walked in the next morning and was frightened to see Harry, stomach down, naked, sleeping. She rushed over to him, "What happened?"
"Nothing," he said, his eyes were blood shot, his cheeks tearstained.
"Let's get you dressed." She moved to flip him over and help him out.
"No," he shook his head, "No, please." It was a request, not a command. She wanted to be of some comfort, but if it would only embarrass him...
"Who then?"
"Ron," he sounded as though he were pleading with her to understand him. "Please."
"Ok, he's on his way. But before he gets here, what happened?"
"Later," he whispered as Ron walked in.
"HARRY!" he shrieked. He ran over to him and scooped the boy up in his arms. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."
"He carried him into the clinic bathroom and set him gently on the stone floor. He filled up the tub, and then picked up Harry. "I can do it," he mumbled. Secretly, he wanted Ron's help. He needed, mostly at this moment, to know someone cared. Cared enough to brave the bruised, torn skin. Someone to look at the bite marks on his shoulder without a grimace. He needed someone to be strong, because if they weren't, he would have to be.
Ron frowned, "Just for today."
"You'll help me?"
"Yeah..."
He grabbed the soap and ran it over Harry's skin.
"So what happened?"
Harry had a sharp intake of breath as he ran it over a particularly soft spot. "Sorry," Ron whispered, "but, what happened?"
"Snape..." Harry felt as if he would break into tear again.
Ron snarled and soap slipped out of his hand. "I'll kill the bastard. What did he do to you?"
Harry scowled and found it difficult to get the words out. "I think, Ron, that he raped me..."
"What!"
"Well, I don't know, how do you rape a male?"
"Harry, if you think he did it, he probably did."
He grabbed Harry out of the tub and carried him into the other room bridle style. He laid him on the bed and Hermione handed him clean clothes so he could help his friend dress.
Hermione made a face that looked nothing like hers. "What happened?"
A single tear trickled down Harry's face. He slowly drew out what happened last night. By the time the tale was finished, crying and swearing done, Madame Pomfrey's potion had worn off and she had shooed Ron and Hermione off to class.
Weeks passed and Harry's bruised ego healed. Luckily, Christmas holidays were just around the corner, because Ron couldn't take much more of Snape smiling at his boyfriend.
He pushed Harry around in a wheelchair, helped him into bed and helped him dress and undress (he had to admit, he really enjoyed the undressing part.) Harry had lost a lot of dignity, but if it was to anyone, he was glad it was to Ron.
On the last day of school before break, potions was a disaster. Harry was sitting when he heard that awful noise. The splash of liquid on the floor. He looked down to see he was indeed wetting his pants, and he could do nothing but stare in horror as it happened.
Ron heard it too and stared at Harry, fear in his eyes. They both knew this would happened had he continued to wear his usual boxers but had hoped it wouldn't. Ron bent down and siphoned up what he could, then took Harry to the washroom. Malfoy's snide comments followed them out of the room.
Ron set him on the floor and handed him clean clothes. He hated to watch Harry struggle, but didn't want to make him feel inferior.
"Ron?" Harry smiled nervously.
"Yes?"
"I can't really lift up my legs and pull these off at the same time. Could you-"
"Yeah, of course."
He nuzzled Harry's shoulder as pulled off the boys pants and then moved to kiss his lips. Even though he had seen Harry naked many times now, he had never kissed him.
His lips hover anxiously until Harry closed the gap, took Ron's hands off his pants and pulled him into a hug. He pushed his hands through the boys ginger hair while Ron climbed on top of him.
He slowly stripped off his robes and set them on the floor then turned to Harry, who let him remove his robes as well as his tie and shirt. He grinned as his hands roamed over Harry's chest.
Then, Harry, in turn, undressed Ron's top half. Ron stared at him. Harry's green eyes were smiling at him and his lips were wet from the kiss. He's cheeks were red because the bathroom was hot, or maybe he was hot. He now realized that he had sat on Harry wet lap, which was guaranteed to ruin the mood, so he scooted off the other boy then pulled off his pants and underwear.
Harry felt uncomfortable, sitting there naked, until Ron grabbed his hands and put them on the buttons of his pants. Harry nimbly undid the buttons and zipper and slipped off Ron's pants. Then came his boxers.
"Do it." Ron's voice was huskier than Harry remembered.
"Do what?"
"You know you want to."
"What?"
Ron leaned close to him, licked his ear and whispered, "Touch me."
Harry smiled and put his hands on Ron's shoulders. He trailed them down his sides then back up again. At last, they found a perfect resting position on the boy's ass. He licked Ron's arm all he way to his fingers. Ron was shaking uncontrollably. They had never done this before.
"Potter? Weasley?"
Harry didn't dare look up. This wasn't happening. Malfoy wasn't standing at that door. But Harry saw him stroll past them and into a stall.
"Oh, God!" Ron whispered while he threw on his clothes. He then helped Harry get his pants on and threw him in the wheelchair.
"Thank God it's winter vacation." Ron smiled at the white snow out the window.
"For sure," Harry grabbed his hand.
Hermione ran past them, "I'll see you guys after winter holidays. I've got to go, or I'll be late." She kissed them both on the cheek and rushed out the portrait hole. Other than Ginny, Fred and George, they had Gryffindor tower to themselves this winter. Ron leaned over to kiss Harry.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Hey guys!"
Harry pulled away, "Hey Fred. Hey George."
"Oh, don't stop because of us!" They smiled at the boys, Ron's hand on Harry's thigh, Harry's hand on Ron's shoulder.
"We didn't stop because of you, we stopped because we're done," Harry retorted.
"We're going to have a snowball fight, want to come?"
"Yeah, of course!" Ron sprinted to their dorm, got their winter stuff and came back down. "We'll be out in a minute."