Disclaimer:  I don't own Harry Potter and I am not even close to being JK Rowling.

Email:  angeldlsm00@hotmail.com

NOW AND FOREVER

Kiara

Setting down to the ground, Harry dismounted from his Firebolt and walked over to meet the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.  The big match against Slytherin was a few weeks away and both teams were going through intensive training, determined to win.  Very few people noticed that Harry and Malfoy were being something akin to friendly with each other lately in the midst of all the hype.  Harry hoped it would stay that way as he liked having Draco to go to when he felt the need to talk about Ron.  The strangeness that it was Malfoy who knew about his fancy for Ron never escaped him despite their many meetings.  Despite this, Harry was starting to see Malfoy as a person who had feelings, pain being one of the strongest with jealousy coming in second, and it was nice to have someone to listen objectively.  Not that Harry did all of the talking; he heard a fair share of things he never thought he would about discipline in the Malfoy family and what it was like to be friends with people like Crabbe and Goyle.  They also teased each other regularly.  A day rarely passed where Harry didn't bring up Draco's penchant for Hannah Abbott's pigtails.

The one thing his friendship with Malfoy had accomplished was that Draco was always keen to remind Harry that there was something to fight for.  If he told Draco he planned on laying spread out for Voldemort to murder, he just may get his wish granted from the blond before the Dark Lord ever had the chance.  In addition, Draco was constantly working him, trying to give him the confidence to tell Hermione and Ron (who he had finally stopped calling Weasel) about his sexuality.  Sometimes he would still insist that Harry just tell Ron how he felt and see what happened, but Harry always refused, and the notion was usually suggested as more of a joke than anything else these days.  Harry still didn't see the humor Draco found in it, but it made Draco laugh, and Harry wasn't going to be one to begrudge Malfoy a positive feeling, even if it was at his expense.

Glancing up at the stands as his team assembled, Harry noticed that they were now empty and he frowned upon seeing the sight.  When going down to the Quidditch pitch for practice, Ron and Hermione had come along despite Ron's objections and hesitations.  He briefly wondered just when they had gone off and where when a second thought came into his mind.  What did they go off to do? wondered Harry, that familiar feeling of sickening envy creeping up his spine.  It just wasn't right.  That was supposed to be him with Ron, not Hermione.  He was the one that loved Ron.  Ron was the center of his universe, not Hermione's.  Harry tried to force the thoughts away as the team looked to him.  If he told Draco any of this, he would smack Harry across the head and tell him to stop whining.  It was his own damn fault Ron didn't know, anyway.

"That was a good practice," said Harry, trying to keep his words coherent.  Any thoughts of Quidditch had flown out of his head the moment he noticed that Ron and Hermione had already left without him.  "We just need to keep playing like this.  Don't slack off just because you think we're doing well.  We need to be playing our hardest against Slytherin if we want to win."

Winning was the last thing on Harry's mind.  Quidditch usually topped Harry's list of things he needed to accomplishment in his school year, especially his game against Slytherin.  This, however, was mostly fueled by the hatred he thought he had for Malfoy, which ended up being misplaced emotions of - well, Harry didn't know what exactly.  Hate, genuine hate, was reserved for vermin like Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort.  The burning desire Harry had for petty revenge against a minuscule threat like Draco was extinguished.  Draco had helped him channel that determination and made him want to fight, to save Ron if not himself.

"Is that it?" said Staci Dante, one of the third year Chasers.  She was new this year but already accustomed to Harry's strenuous practice schedules and his wrath toward any opponent they were to meet on the Quidditch field.  Some of the other students looked at Harry, expectantly.  There should have been more to this; Harry should have been criticizing every slip there had been, no matter how small.  Instead, Harry surprised everyone by nodding and ending practice.

"That's it?  Practice is over?" said Pierce Anderson, a fifth year beater.

Harry nodded, slightly annoyed that they expected him to bite off their heads and work them until curfew, which it almost was.  He couldn't really blame them, though, because there was a good twenty minutes to curfew and had Ron and Hermione still been in the stands, they probably would have continued practice until they were guaranteed to be late making their way back to the castle.  Changing out of his Quidditch gear as slowly as he could manage, Harry was the last to head back into the school.

Desperately wishing he would find one of his friends in the common room when he got back, Harry passed through the Entrance Hall and to the Grand Staircase.  Gryffindor tower always seemed to take ages to get to considering it was on the seventh floor of the school, but time always seems to go faster when you are dreading something, and Harry was dreading his arrival.  Not wanting to think of them off together somewhere, Harry mentally forced himself to go over the Quidditch practice and any mistakes that may have been made that would need correction.  Before time seemed to have passed at all, Harry could see the portrait of the Fat Lady down the hallway and, before it, three figures sitting outside.  Coming closer, Harry could see Seamus and Dean leaning against the wall while Neville sat on the floor.  All three looked very bored.

"Did you get in a fight with the Fat Lady?" teased Harry, coming up to them.  "I can't imagine you all forgot the password."

"We're out here by choice," said Seamus, holding up his hands in defense.  "When you go in there, you want to let us know if it blew over?"

"What blew over?" said Harry, now alarmed.  "What happened?"

"I don't know," said Dean.  "Not really, anyway.  It's Seamus who heard most of it."

"I went down to the Quidditch pitch to watch practice and I saw Hermione and Ron there," explained Seamus.  Harry nodded.  "They weren't speaking at first, just watching the practice, but then Ron turned to Hermione and whispered something.  She sort of glared and ignored him.  Then he said something else, but I couldn't hear, and Hermione told him to just go because she didn't want to speak to him.  Ten minutes later, she took off, too.  I wondered what was wrong so I came back here and they were having it out in the common room.  Everyone was scattering, so we came out here."

"What happened?" asked Harry.

"Ron came into the dorm," said Neville, "and he was looking upset about something.  Not mad or anything like that.  Just upset.  Sort of sad.  I asked him if something was wrong and he said Hermione wouldn't listen.  I decided to ignore it but then Hermione came bursting in saying she wanted an explanation.  Ron told her that she didn't want to listen to him or any explanation he had to offer and she got mad at him for smarting off.  I left because I thought they should have some privacy."

"Then they came down to the common room," said Dean, picking up in sequence.  "Neville came down and told me what happened.  A few minutes later, Ron came down with Hermione on his heels.  He said he was following her example, walking away when the issue needed to be confronted.  Then they got into this big row, Seamus came in, and we decided we better come out here.  Everyone was seeking refuge, anyway."

"Do you know what they were fighting about?" asked Harry.  Despite his many protests and his wishes to be with Ron, he didn't actually want them fighting.

Seamus looked hesitant and then said softly, "Hermione said something about there being someone else.  About Ron using her.  Ron said he was sorry, so. . ."

"Ron cheated on Hermione?" said Harry, unable to believe it.  Not his perfect Ron.  Ron would never cheat on Hermione with someone else.  Never.  Right?  "I'm going in there."

"Like we said, let us know if the storm blew over," said Seamus.

Harry nodded and turned to the Fat Lady.  "Periwinkle."

"Indeed!" cried the Fat Lady, opening up to allow Harry entrance.

Crawling in through the portrait hole, Harry emerged to find the common room unusually quiet for a Friday evening.  Students had come back in now, but most of them were speaking in low voices or even whispers.  It was on his second glance around the room that he saw her, Hermione curled up on the sofa with his chin on her knees.  Ginny was seated beside her, rubbing her back and murmuring words of comfort, and Harry briefly thought of the conversation he had overheard between them just before coming friends with Draco.  A brief twinge of guilt flooded him.  He had been wishing Hermione wasn't with Ron all this time that it was Harry who loved him, and now Hermione was heartbroken.  Harry couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Hermione?" he said, coming over to sit next to her.  "What happened, Mione?  Are you okay?"

"I'll leave you alone," said Ginny, glancing sadly at Harry before retreating.

"Are you okay?" Harry repeated once Ginny had gone, hoping for an answer this time.

"We broke up," said Hermione, plainly.

"I'm sorry, Hermione.  What happened?"

"Ron is in love with someone else."

Harry felt his heart seize up.  He hadn't wanted to believe that Ron, so perfect in Harry's mind, could do something so rotten to their best friend.  If Harry couldn't have Ron, then it was Hermione that should have, and it wasn't that she just said Ron wanted someone else.  She said Ron was in love with someone else.  Ron was in love.  More than hurt, Harry felt anger at Ron that he hadn't known since the Triwizard Tournament.  How could one person be such a fuckwit?

"Ron's in love?" said Harry, unable to comprehend it.

"He isn't in love with me.  Not like that," she said, staring into the flames.

"Ron cheated on you?"

"No."

"But you said -"

"I said he's in love with someone else," said Hermione.  "I didn't say he cheated on me."

"But if he's in love with someone else -"

"He used me, Harry.  He was afraid of what he was feeling and so he dated me because it was safe.  Because I was safe, Harry.  I don't know how I didn't see it before.  He's been so strange for weeks."

"That's been because of Vol - er - You-Know-Who," said Harry, noticing how Hermione flinched.  This time, he didn't want to cause her any more discomfort.

"No, Harry.  Don't you see?  Don't you understand?  He was afraid of what he was feeling and so he dated me because it was safe.  He's in love with someone who isn't me.  We broke up, Harry.  He's no longer attached."

Harry frowned.  What was Hermione trying to get at?

Sighing, she said, "Go to him, Harry."

"What?  I don't understand.  I heard you were fighting.  Aren't you angry?"

"Furious," replied Hermione.  "I'm furious that he used me.  I'm furious that he didn't tell me the truth.  I'm furious that he can stand up to Aragog and McGonagall's chess set but he couldn't even tell me the truth.  I feel used, Harry.  I don't think I'll be able to be around him for some time.  He's in the dorm, Harry.  Go to him."

"But, Hermione. . ."

"You're my friend, Harry.  I want you to be happy.  If I can't be, one of us should.  Don't let me stop you from being happy, Harry.  I don't want to be a reason or an excuse again."

"I don't understand, Hermione."

"I know.  It doesn't matter, though.  Go to him.  You're his best friend.  He needs you right now."

"How did you get to be so smart and selfless?"

"I'm not doing this for him, Harry.  Right now, I don't even want to look at him.  I'm doing it for you."

"Why?"

"Because you stepped back and let me be happy.  Go."

Unable to speak, Harry turned around and headed for the stairs.  She couldn't mean what he thought she meant could she?  That would mean that she had to know about his feelings for Ron.  Was she mad?  Did she want to embarrass him by sending him to Ron?  After all, she did say he loved someone else.  Harry's head was spinning as he opened the door to the dormitory.  It appeared to be empty but Harry always had a way of sensing when Ron was in a room, and this room secreted the sense of Ron.  Taking inventory, Harry noticed the curtains to Ron's bed closed, a rarity these days.

"Ron," said Harry, softly.  He was still angry, but even more confused.  Nothing was making sense right now.  Harry found himself wishing Draco were around.  Whenever Harry was feeling like a stupid boy, Draco always explained things to him.  It was really a lovely relationship.

Ron hadn't answered and Harry walked over to Ron's bed, wondering if he should intrude.  Typically, when one of them had closed the curtains, it was a clear sign they wanted to be left alone.  This wasn't a typical situation, however, and Harry nibbled on his lower lip, wondering what to do.  He didn't have to wait long.  The curtains slightly parted and Harry could make Ron's eyes out, gleaming out of the darkness.

"Ron," repeated Harry, this time a mix of amusement and exasperation.

Climbing out of bed, Ron stood in front of Harry, looking about as awkward as Ron ever looked.  Harry had an urge to kiss every single freckle on that adorable face of his but a reminder of why Ron was hiding out up here came crashing down on him.

"I guess you've heard," said Ron, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"That doesn't mean I understand."

"What don't you understand?  What were you told?"

"That you and Hermione got into a fight at Quidditch practice.  It led into the dorm and then into the common room."  Harry paused, afraid to go further.  "Hermione said you broke up."

Ron nodded.  "Did she tell you why?"

"She said you were in love with someone else but that can't be right, Ron.  You wouldn't do that to Hermione."

"I was scared, Harry," said Ron, sounding very much like he was about to cry.  "I had to tell her, Harry.  It wasn't like she found out by accident.  I told her of my own will.  I couldn't keep on lying to her.  I made a mistake but I tried to fix it.  I can't help who I love."

"Settle down, Ron," said Harry, trying to calm his hysteric friend.  He knew all too well about being unable to control who you love.  "I wasn't accusing you.  Not exactly."

"It felt like you were."

"It's just so not something you would do.  That's not you, Ron.  You don't use people."

"Did Hermione tell you who I was in love with?"

"No," said Harry, taken aback.  "She didn't mention that you said."

"Oh," said Ron, tilting his head toward the ground.  "I was hoping she did.  Suppose I should have known she wouldn't.  Making me tell you myself."  Ron sighed.  "I was scared, Harry.  Haven't you ever been scared of something you felt for someone?  A feeling like you aren't supposed to love that person?  At least not the way you're loving them?"

Harry nodded, staring hard at Ron.  "All the time."

Ron shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes and leaned back against his bed.

"Who is it?" said Harry.  Part of him didn't want to ask, didn't want to know who Ron had fallen in love with.  A bigger part needed to know.

"I don't want you to hate me, Harry," said Ron, his throat constricting painfully tight.

"I could never hate you, Ron."

"You."

"What?"

"You, Harry," said Ron, sighing.  "I'm in love with you."

Harry stared at Ron.  "What?"

"Harry," said Ron.  "I knew you were going to take it like this!"

"You told me?" he said.

"What?" said Ron, now just as confused as Harry.  "Of course I told you!  Don't tell me you weren't listening!"

"I was - it's just. . . I thought you said you loved me," said Harry, starting to laugh.

"I don't see what's so funny about it," snapped Ron, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.

Harry's heart felt as if it were beating all too fast.  This couldn't be happening.  He had to be stuck in some warped dream because Harry thought Ron said he loved him, and when questioning him, Ron hadn't denied it.  Perhaps if he owled Draco, he would know if he was going crazy or not.  Pinching his wrist, Harry yelped.  Ron was still there, avoiding Harry's eyes.  Perhaps he had imagined it.  Perhaps none of this was happening and Harry had officially gone crazy.  Perhaps there was a nice padded room waiting for him at Saint Mungo's.

"Did you say you loved me?" said Harry for a third time.  "Me?  Harry?  Did you say you loved me?"

"Honestly, Harry, there's no need to torment me about it," said Ron, scowling.

'I wasn't. . ." protested Harry until he realized it seemed like he was doing just that.  Ron was in love with him and of course Harry was in love with Ron, but he didn't know that.  Of course Harry knew.  Harry could see the humor in the situation.  Ron had no idea.  Ron . . . had no idea and was feeling the same way Harry had felt.  Ron thought Harry would never love him back, and worse, that Harry was teasing him.

"Ron," said Harry, just as softly as he had said it when first coming into the room.

"What?"

Discarding words because Draco had told him actions always spoke louder, Harry crossed over to where Ron was standing.  Cupping the back of Ron's head with his palm, Harry twisted his fingers in Ron's hair and pulled him forward, meeting his lips on the way.  Harry could feel his body shaking, his mind unable to believe what was going on here.  He was kissing Ron and Ron was kissing him back, their mouths meshing with neither wanting to pull away.  That red hair that Harry had spent so much time staring at, wanting to get his fingers in, was wound around his fist feeling every bit as soft as Harry had imagined it.  There was a sweet, musky scent to Ron, his lips tasting so delicious in a way that was simply Ron.  There was no better explanation for it.

"Harry?" said Ron tentatively when they pulled back for air.

"I've been in love with you for two years, Ron," said Harry.  "I only realized it this past summer."

"You've been in love with me this whole time and you didn't tell me?" said Ron, sounding relieved.

"You were with Hermione.  I couldn't.  It killed me to see you with her, Ron.  It really did."

"I love you," said Ron, pressing his lips to Harry again before he had a chance to get away.

"I love you, too."

"Will you sleep with me tonight?"

"What?" said Harry, a little louder than intended.  Ron chuckled.

"Not like that, Harry.  Merlin, what do you think I am?"

"Sorry," mumbled Harry.

"It's okay," said Ron, snickering.  "I just . . . I want you near me tonight."

"I can do that."

~*~

Harry's fingers were twined around Ron's as they made their way from Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning.  They had both discussed if it would be right to go public with their relationship just after Ron had broken up with Hermione, but neither one cared to hide their love.  The first person Harry saw (that mattered, anyway) before they even reached the Hall was Hermione, herself.  Dropping Ron's hand, Harry mumbled that he'd be right back and made his way over to her.

"I get what you meant now," said Harry, approaching her.  "How long have you known?"

"Since we first came back to school," admitted Hermione.  "It's the way you look at him.  He's the only thing in your universe that matters."

"Thank you, Hermione."

"There was nothing I could do, Harry.  He loves you."

"I'm sorry about what happened.  Even though I love him and I've never been happier knowing he loves me, I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I am, too.  Listen, I know I said I want you to be happy, but I meant what I said about him.  I can't be near him, Harry.  I'm going to need some time to heal - away from him.  That means away from you, too."

"It's all very bittersweet, Hermione," said Harry, sadly.

"I know.  But we'll make up one day."

"I hope so."

Hermione winked at him and turned to walk in the Great Hall.  Harry made his way back to Ron.

"Well?" said Ron.

"She needs time."

"Away from me," concluded Ron, sadly.

"Yes.  Away from you.  But you still have me."  Harry took Ron's hand again, twining their fingers together.

They walked into the Great Hall together and before they could get a chance to sit down, a voice behind them said, "Isn't that a pretty picture?"  Harry and Ron turned around, each filled with a different emotion upon hearing the cool, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy," started Ron, but Draco held up a hand.

"Don't say anything you're going to regret, Weasley," said Draco.  "Congratulations Potter."

"Well, he is my Wheezy, after all."

Grinning, Draco said, "Dobby, right?"

"Right . . . You're welcome to join us for breakfast if you like."

Ron gave Harry a look that seemed he was questioning his sanity.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Draco glanced over at the Slytherin table.  "Nah.  I can take care of myself.  Thanks for the offer, though.  Perhaps some other time."

"Perhaps."

"I really am happy for you, Harry.  All we need to do now is get me out of that bind with Parkinson."

"There's always Hannah and her pigtails."

"Sod off, Potter," said Draco, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"I mean it, Draco.  Hold on - Hannah!"

For at that moment, Hannah Abbott had walked into the Great Hall with Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan.  Harry was pleased to see she had her hair in two, blonde pigtails.  Ron was wavering stares between Draco and Harry, trying to make sense of it all.

Winking at Draco, Harry said, "Hannah, what do you think of Draco?"

Hannah looked at Harry as if this were a trick question.  "Er - well, I -"

"You can answer honestly," said Harry.

"I don't think he's a very nice person sometimes," said Hannah, giving Draco occasional nervous glances.

"But he's sexy, right?" said Harry.

"This is a nightmare," mumbled Draco, wanting very much to run away but remaining.  A Malfoy always stands his ground.

"Well," said Hannah, looking taken aback.

"You see, Draco thinks you're really cute.  He especially likes your pigtails.  Thinks they look really nice on you."

"Really?" said Hannah, now tugging on one of the pigtails in question.  Harry glanced at Draco, noticing that he was staring at her fingers working at her hair.

"He's a nice guy, too," said Harry.  "You just need to get to know him.  Why don't you give each other a chance?  Have breakfast and go from there."

"I despise you, Potter," muttered Draco.

"If you don't want to -" started Hannah.

"He wants to," said Harry.

"Aren't you dating Pansy Parkinson?" said Hannah, addressing Draco for the first time.

"It's arranged by his father and he doesn't like her.  He likes you.  Thinks you're sweet.  Go eat breakfast together.  And Draco?  Be nice."

Draco gave Harry a sort of forced grin as he walked away, leaving Draco with Hannah Abbott.

"What was that?" asked Ron.

"Just paying a friend a favor," said Harry, pulling Ron down to sit next to him.

"Since when is Malfoy a friend?"

"Since I ran into him in the Astronomy Tower trying to get away from you and spilled my soul out to him."

"You spilled your soul out to Malfoy trying to get away from me?"

"I had to stop watching you sleep so I went to the Astronomy Tower.  Malfoy was there.  He told me some things, I refused to tell him things, and he guessed that I was in love with you.  We've been friends ever since."

"And when was this?"

"A few weeks ago.  Honestly, Ron, you miss out on a lot when you're dating Hermione."

"Apparently.  So what's this thing with Hannah Abbott and her pigtails?"

"Draco fancies her."

"She's a Hufflepuff."

"So?  Draco fancies her.  He has sexual inclinations that involve her pigtails."

"She doesn't seem his type," said Ron, glancing over to the Hufflepuff table where Draco had chosen to sit.  Pansy Parkinson was sending death glares in that general direction and Harry suspected he was going to hear all about it later.  This should all feel so wrong, but Harry found that it all fit perfectly.  Draco was at the Hufflepuff table talking to Hannah Abbott in a manner that was making her smile.  Ron was sitting beside him, his fingers still wrapped around Harry's.  The only thing missing was Hermione, but Harry supposed she would come around in due time.  What mattered was Harry had found a confidant in Draco, a love in Ron, and for Harry, it seemed like the adventure was just beginning.  That was how it should be.  For once in his life, Harry felt at peace.  Draco was right, and Harry made a mental note to tell him so later.  Things were worth fighting for.

This is the third part to the RonxHarry trilogy.  The first two parts, Hey Jealous, and Sweet Honest, can be found on my author page by clicking on my pen name.

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