DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter, names, characters, and related indicia are copyright of Joanne K Rowling. I use them herein without permission and without making any money.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Chary didn't have to beta-read this for me, since it wasn't going up at the Sugarquill. But, she fixed every comma and that annoying alright/all right problem and told me when I was repeating myself despite that fact because she is absolutely amazing (Chary's stories are archived there on the Professor's Bookshelf. They are excellent). Thank you so much, Chary!

This story contains subject matter that may be offensive to some readers.

Ron Weasley and His Best Friend

by Miss Stephanie D.

Ron Weasley blearily opened his eyes. What had woken him up? He stayed still in his four-poster, and soon he heard the telltale rustle again. Harry, considerate bloke that he was, always put silencing charms around his bed. Whilst they kept his screams from waking everyone in the dorms up, they did not stop the sound of his bed shaking.

Ron rolled out of his own bed, poured a glass of water from the stand, walked over to his best friend's bed, and opened the hanging curtains.

"Nooooo... NO! NO!" Harry was thrashing around in a cold sweat. Ron sat on the edge of Harry's bed and untangled the sleeping boy's arms from his sheets.

"Easy there, mate." He rubbed the sleeping boy's shoulder. "There, there. It's alright, now." He soothed. Harry woke up with a shudder and accepted the glass from the redhead.

When Harry's breathing calmed down, Ron asked, "Do you want me to go with you to see Dumbledore?" Hermione would have said: 'You shouldn't be having nightmares now that Dumbledore's teaching you. You should be practising Occlumency.' She meant well.

"Wasn't that kind of nightmare. Just the normal sort. Everyone I love dying around me. Mum. Dad. Sirius. You. Hermione." Ron's heart gave a painful lurch in his chest. Harry closed his eyes.

After a minute, Ron tucked Harry back under the covers, closed the curtains, re-erected the silencing charms, and put the empty glass on the bedside cabinet. He walked back to his own bed slowly, deep in thought.

Ron had suspected for a long time. Now, reflecting on how Harry's nightmare had made him feel, he knew. Ron Weasley was in love. With one of his best friends.

Lying down, Ron could not sleep. Not with the thoughts running through his head. It made sense. The way this one person, more than any other, made him feel happy, sad, angry, jealous... The way, sitting in the common room, no one else's entrance was anticipated, made him feel at home... The way, no matter what he was doing, he looked for them.

How could this have happened? This was not the way the story was supposed to turn out. The hero was supposed to get the girl, not Ron Weasley. How would Hermione react? Oh, Merlin, what would Harry say? He couldn't tell them this. Damn, Harry! Harry was getting up.

"Everything all right, mate?" Ron quietly whispered across the room. He tugged open his curtains to spot a bleary-eyed Harry, sans glasses, groping for his bathrobe.

"Yeah. Couldn't get back to sleep. Might as well start the day." Harry said. Ron looked at the clock. It read a quarter to seven: too early to rise and too late to sleep.

"Reckon I'll join you in a minute." Ron stretched and yawned and watched Harry strip for the shower.

Bloody hell, he needed help. Not only was he gay. Not only was he in love with Harry, he was a voyeur too. There was no way that Ron Weasley was ever going to tell his best friend this.

AUTHOR'S POSTSCRIPT: For the record, I do not believe that Ron is gay. I just got so sick of reading the thousandth 'Ron realizes his feelings for Hermione' fic that I had to write something different.

I hope you enjoyed it.

By the way, I was unsure as to what kind of genre to call this story. Romance? But nothing happens in it. Angst? Maybe, Ron is a touch upset about this; however, most angst stories are much darker. Friendship? General? What do you think? What category should Ron Weasley and His Best Friend be in?