Pen Name: Phoenixtear

Email: Phoenixtear2003@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Come on seriously. Do you really think I could make money off of my crap writing? Yeah me either. So don't know, don't own, don't imply anything besides homosexual relations cause that's all I ever write. Cute boys. ::Smile::

~Seasons~

Part one: Mercy of the sun

It was hot to say the least. Long limbs and tall grass stretched out in front of him. A thin sheen of sweat covered his body, building on his brow and lip. Everything seemed to be painted in gold even the air. Clouds drifted effortless in the sky when the very thought of lifting his head seemed like certain suicide. There was a twelve-degree difference between the shade of a tree and the mercy of the sun. Despite the heat the raven- haired boy rolled over on his side to get a better view. This was the place he loved most. Gnomes ran wild taunting chickens, flowers and vines flourished beyond Home and Gardens standards pushing out of they're confines, loud voices floated out of the house and reached his ears. He closed his eyes for a moment memorizing this, because right now. right now everything was perfect. Not for any particular reason it was perfect. In actuality it was too hot, too loud, grass was sticking to his legs, bugs were crawling on him, he had a headache, and probably was getting cancer causing sunburn, but it was normal and therefore perfect. He could hear the familiar rhythm of footsteps coming near. Green eyes fluttered open to see red-hair, freckles, and a friendly smile hovering above him. How long had he been out here? The light wasn't golden anymore and the gnomes had settled down besides the occasional troublemaker.

"Heat making you tired Harry?" The tall boy asked as he sank down into the over grown grass and crossed his legs. Dusk settled in and fireflies licked the air and fearlessly landed on their sweet sticky skin. Lights from the many rooms of the Burrow glowed. The wind ruffled the leaves in the trees and was warm. The heat was making him tired and lazy. "I was looking for you. What were you thinking about?" Thinking still, Harry rolled onto his stomach and pulled a piece of grass and began tying knot after knot into the green, mildly fascinated. He lifted his matching green eyes from the grass to his best friend. A lump caught in his throat and he snapped his attention back to the grass. "Well," the boy prodded.

Harry looked over his shoulder at the Burrow. How the house stood was a miracle, a happy chaos surrounded it. He cleared his throat and threw the grass, which lead him back to picking another to occupy his hands. It was cycle. "I don't know. It's stupid really." He drew in a deep breath a little more sharply then he intended and let it out unevenly. "It sure is hot isn't it?" His voice cracked against the silence and fading light. Ron studied his friend as Harry nervously pulled at the lawn. "Don't look at me like that Ron. Really it's stupid, just forget about it."

Ron sighed and laid his tan body out on the ground. "I'm worried about you. You've been acting weird ever since we came to get you. Harry I'm your *best* friend. You can talk to me, alright?" Ron watched Harry fumble with his piece of grass distracting himself. He reached over and stole it. "Knock it off already and talk to me." He tossed the knotted grass back in Harry's face.

Harry broke out into a smile. Funny how Ron could always do that when he needed it most. "I just don't want to depress you. I'm think all wrong and I know it." Ron gave an encouraging smile and tossed more foliage at him. Harry laughed. "Alright already. Where do I start?"

Ron propped himself up on an elbow giving Harry his full attention. "The beginning is always good."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "Yes. I suppose so. I was just looking around here and." Harry zoned for a moment looking at the house. "And. I'm scared." Seeing the confused look on his ginger-haired friend Harry shook his head. "No. That didn't make sense. I'm not scared of the Burrow.

Ron smiled and offered a piece of comic relief. He knew where this conversation was headed. "I don't know Harry. I thought you made perfect sense. I'm scared of the Burrow. One of this days the charms aren't going to hold out and my room is going to fall off." Harry laughed. "But seriously Harry, what are you scared of?"

It's just everything. Ron this year we finish. Everyone knows this is the final show down. I don't want die. Volde. You-know-who is second most powerful wizard in the world. And me? Me," he said voice cracking again despite his efforts. "I'm just barely passing each year. It's a lie to even say I'm C student. How am I supposed to do this? Everyone is counting on me. I was out here and thinking that I don't ever want today to end. I want to stay here forever. I have maybe two hundred more days to live when you think about it. I wish I could spend them all here." Harry couldn't look at Ron the entire time he spoke. He knew Ron didn't want to hear any of this. "Before you say anything I already said I'm thinking wrong, but its hard not too. You can't say my fears aren't justified. There's so much I want to do. So much I'm never going get to do."

Ron had heard enough. "Harry you *are not* going to die! Just shut up. God I HATE when you get like this!" Ron sat up and ran his hands threw his thick red hair. He clamed himself and looked at the raven-haired boy next to him. Harry's face was parallel to the ground and looked stunned. He rested on his elbows and stayed quiet. Ron stared at tree trunk in front of him. "Harry you can't think like this. Okay? There is a reason why you've defeat him again and again. You're special. It isn't luck before you go there." Ron shot Harry a sideways glance. "I agree you aren't what everyone thinks you are. You aren't the perfect Harry Potter. I definitely know that. You're far too weird and think about sex too much. You're funny. You're Harry and that is what makes *you* special. You don't try enough in school, you devote you life to quidditich, and you hit on anything that you mistake for a person." Ron looked at Harry. "I know it's a lot of pressure. I know you don't deserve it. You're just a kid like the rest of us but you aren't the *same* as the rest of us. Harry, we all have faith in you for a reason. Most of us would've gone crackers by now. You haven't and you'll make through this year. You can do this. You can handle it."

Harry stayed frozen. "What if I don't this time. This is different. This is the finale. He isn't going to be playing around this time. Happy endings are for children's stories. I'm not some character in a book Ron. There is no princess. If there was I'd be the princess. But I'm just some kid with a funny shaped scar that's not all that great at magic who some freak wants to kill, and all I want to do is pass term and get laid! Is that so much to ask?"

Ron cracked a smile. "Well its good to know you aren't *too* depressed. You're using run-on sentences and still on about getting laid." Harry didn't budge. "Lighten up Harry." Ron smiled. "You'll get laid." He reached over and ruffled his friend's hair.

A small smile formed on Harry's lips. "I won't if you keep making my hair worse than it already is." Harry sat up and leaned his back against the tree. Ron scooted closer and shared the backrest.

"So why would you want to stay here at the Burrow forever. I hate to break it to you but I don't think the house could stay standing that long."

Harry looked up at the house adoringly. "I love your house. It's perfect." He chose to ignore the snort from Ron that followed. "It's busy and warm. It's normal - at least as normal as the Weasley's get," Harry laughed. "It makes me feel safe." Harry stopped short of his train of thought and paused. He debated finishing. "It's yours." Ron wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him close. Harry weakly rested his head on Ron's tan freckled shoulder. Neither talked.

The sun finished its fall leaving a blanket of darkness. The blades of grass cooled, as did the breeze. Constellations floated and rotated above them twinkling merrily. Harry shivered in his thin tee shirt and shorts. Ron noticed and lazily turned his head toward Harry. "You've got goosebumps. It's cool now. You want to go inside?" He ran a hand up and down the other boy's arm to warm him.

Harry smiled sleepily and yawned. "Nah. You're keeping me warm enough. I like it out here anyway." The dark haired boy nestled closer. He closed his eyes and thought about all things that might happen in a few months. He could die. Someone else he loved could die. Voldemort might take over. Somehow that didn't seem possible right now. Not when things could be so good. Harry wouldn't let it happen, he had too much to lose. No matter what someone told him when he was depressed he didn't believe them, not even Ron. It never helped. Instead, all it took to put his fears back in place was a little quiet and a certain redhead close to him. That made fighting worth it, knowing that after everything was said and done he'd still have this to come back too. Harry didn't open his eyes. "I love you Ron."

Ron smiled to himself and smoothed Harry's unruly hair. He leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "I know. I love you too. Everything is going to be okay."

Harry looked up at Ron. "I know that now. I was being stupid." Harry shifted back to his original position and breathed in the summer air. "Hey Ron?"

"What," he answered plainly.

Harry ran a hand up to his shoulder. "I think I have sunburn. My skins all tender there. It hurts." Ron ran a finger over the area and kissed it. "Come on let's go on inside. Mum's got a cream for that you big baby. If you hadn't spent all day turning over how you're going to die in that pea brain of yours you wouldn't have sunburn." Ron detached his body from Harry's and stood up offering his hand. Harry took it and was pulled to his feet.

"I think you should just keep kissing it," Harry suggested. "You told me not to worry. I'd get laid."

Ron laughed and dragged Harry along towards the house. The sky was brightening by the time they gave their last kisses and curled into one another drifting towards the world filled with dreams.