"HARRY! What was that for!" Ron yelped, wiping his hand across his mouth. Harry chuckled at his best friend, who was covered in black ink.
"Sorry, Ron," he laughed. "I didn't mean to!" His ink bottle had burst due to high emotion, and the ink had splattered all over Ron.
"Geez, what happen—Harry, what are you doing?" he asked. Harry ignored him, wrapping his arms around Ron's waist. "Har-RY!" Harry lifted Ron bodily and tossed him into the lake.
"Gasping, Ron stared as Harry came into the water after him. "Okay, that wasn't an accident!" he exclaimed. Again, Harry ignored him, and pushed Ron down, sitting next to him.
Ron watched in confused silence as Harry conjured a bar of soap. "Harry, what the heck are you doing?" he asked, as Harry began lathering soap onto a black spot on Ron's tee-shirt. He looked up and rolled his eyes.
"I'm washing the ink off your shirt," he said, slapping the bar of soap in Ron's hand.
"Couldn't the….House Elves do this?" Ron asked, watching as Harry rubbed his tee-shirt between his fingers.
"Why make them work more? They work hard enough as it is," Harry replied. Sighing, he yanked the hem of Ron's tee-shirt up over his head.
"Um, do you Surrey people do this often?" Ron asked, as Harry scrubbed the fabric, soap bubbles spilling over his fingers.
"No, not really," Harry replied, washing away the soap. He examined the stain. He scrubbed a bit more, and when he was satisfied, he set Ron's tee-shirt on the shore to dry.
"Harry…Are you feeling all right?" Ron asked, hesitantly, as Harry took the bar of soap from Ron's hand.
"Well, actually, Cho and I had another row. You know Ravenclaws. They're smart. She cursed me so that I clean obsessive compulsively. If there's something that needs to be cleaned, I have to clean it." Ron snickered.
"Why didn't you go to Pomphrey or Flitwick, get them to lift the curse?" Ron asked, trying not to laugh as Harry began rubbing at the spots on Ron's hands and arms.
"Because people will laugh. I got cursed by Cho! You know how word gets out at Hogwarts," he said, darkly. Ron snickered again.
"True, true. You're just lucky you spilled ink on me, though," he added as Harry began lathering soap through his hair.
"Why's that?" Harry asked, tugging at the strands of red hair.
"Well, because if it were anyone else, it might be a bit…awkward," he breathed.
Harry looked up and emerald eyes met baby blue eyes. Harry had dropped his arms, and Ron was fully aware that Harry's hand was on his thigh. Their faces were inches apart.
Ron smelled like soap, and the thought made Harry smile.
"I mean, you know, I'm your best mate—friend," he corrected, blushing, "so, you know, I'm more understanding than anybody else. I mean, you couldn't go around taking Hermione's shirt off; she'd kill you," he chuckled, nervously.
Harry's smiled widened, and he leaned closer to Ron, to the point that he was almost touching Ron's chest.
"Um, er…I still have, uh, soap in my hair," Ron laughed, haltingly, twisting a strand of hair between his fingers. Harry grinned and grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers.
"It's okay," he whispered. Ron's eyebrows rose, and he looked from Harry, to their entwined hands, to Harry again.
"But what…about…the spell?" Ron stammered. Harry laughed, softly.
"There is no spell. I just made that up," he replied, placing a hand on Ron's cheek, caressing it with his thumb. Ron's eyebrows shot up and disappeared under his sopping bangs.
"What? Why?" he demanded, subconsciously squeezing Harry's hand that held his.
"So I could get you wet," Harry teased. Ron's ears turned bright red.
"Get me…" he stammered, but Harry interrupted him but pressing his lips against Ron's. Ron gave a squeak of astonishment, thus opening his mouth and allowing Harry's tongue to slip in.
Despite his shock, Ron allowed himself a muffled noise of pleasure as Harry sucked on his lower lip. Harry pulled away with a grin.
"You're not a bad kisser, Weasley," Harry said with a smirk.
"That was my first," Ron admitted with a blush.
"It's about bloody time!" said a new voice. The two boys looked up to see Hermione standing on the shore, her arms folded in and expression of smugness.
"About time for what?" Ron asked.
"About time Harry got your shirt off," she laughed.