A/N: A short-ish Ron/Harry comfort fic with NO SLASH cos I find that frankly disturbing… Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot, charactersand locations belong to J.K Rowling.
IN A LONG TIME
Outside the safe walls of The Burrow, a dark storm was brewing. Thunder echoed around the small courtyard, scattering chickens and overturning barrels. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the small pond and beyond that, the forest. With a deafening crack, a tree near the edge of the woods was felled, smashing against the rock wall that separated the Weasley family home from the wilderness beyond. Despite the chaos, Harry sat, still as ever, at the scrubbed oak kitchen table. He welcomed the distraction of the storm, it helped him to forget what a mess his life was. The sound of rain drummed into his brain and cleansed his soul, washing out all thoughts that may have kept him awake. He sat like this most evenings- not thinking, not talking, just sitting. Harry relished the silence- away from the constant worried looks of the Weasleys , away from the constant press attention, and away from the grieving families who had lost in the war. Harrys face twisted into a mask of pain as he thought of his little godson, of Remus and Tonk's baby, of little Teddy Lupin. Harry remembered the day, a mere 2 weeks ago when Teddy had, for the first time in his life, asked about his parents.
Flashback:-
"Harry?" Teddy asked, his three year old face looking up with adoration.
"Yes Teddy?" Harry replied, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at the youngster playing on the grass in front of him.
"What were my mummy and daddy like?" Harry looked momentarily shocked and didn't reply for a while, causing teddy to run over and prod him in the arm worriedly. "Harry?" Harry shook himself out of his shocked state and sighed. He knew this day had to come.
"Your parents were amazing people teddy, I want you to know that." Teddy nodded seriously, his hair flashing through colours to arrive at a messy black style, not dissimilar to Harry's. "Your parents loved you more than life itself. That's why they died, Teddy." Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and ploughed on, knowing that he couldn't now stop. "They died so that you, Teddy Lupin, could live in a wold without Voldemort. And they were brave, Teddy. So brave." And that was how Andromeda Tonks found them half an hour later, curled up on the warm grass, sobbing for a boy whose parents he would never know.
They were quite similar in that way, Harry reflected bitterly, leaning against the table. Both of them had parents who had died fighting Voldemort. His dark brooding was interrupted by a loud thump, as none other than Ronald Weasley stumbled down the staircase. Straightening up, Ron's maroon pyjamas rode up several inches revealing pale freckled skin. Harry looked at his best mate, silently giving him permission to sit down. Ron made his way towards the table, and slumped into the chair opposite him. They sat like that for a while, not talking, just sitting. They enjoyed being nothing, not The Boy Who Lived and his best mate, just them, Harry and Ron. Finally, Harry dragged his emerald orbs up to Ron's face. Their eyes met across he battered oak table and a look of confusion flitted across the raven haired boys face.
"Why did you come down here Ron?" He spoke the words softly as if in pain. "I don't need your help."
"I didn't come down for you Harry." The ginger spoke just as quietly. "I came because of a dream. Do you get them too?" Harry nodded, unable to say anything as an incredible pain shot through his very bones, paralysing him as images of the recent war flashed through his mind. He gasped and leant on the battered table, aware of the blue eyed boy sitting calmly across the table from him. "Tell me." Ron murmured. So Harry told him, h told him about him being to blame for the death toll, him being to blame for not defeating Voldemort sooner. He told him that he knew that Ginny no longer loved him as he had left her for so long, but he had to go, he had to kill Him. And finally, he told him how he missed his parents more and more with every growing day, wanting the comfort of a mother's arms, or the soothing advice of a father. And all the while, Ron sat by him, letting the boy sob on his chest- having quickly left his seat as Harry had started talking. For hours they sat there, Ron holding Harry close to his chest. Finally, Harry took one last shuddering breath and pulled his head up to face Ron.
"Thank you." He rasped- to little words, but so significant to both of them.
"I dream of the Manor," Ron starts, sitting up a little straighter. "Malfoy Manor." Harry looked up at Ron, silently urging him on. "Hearing her screams. Hermione's screams." Harry stiffened. "And I can't help but wonder if Wormtail hadn't come down, if we hadn't had saved her- would she be dead? Would Bellatrix have killed her?" Ron ran his knuckles over his face, sniffing angrily. "I see her scratching them. The scars I mean." Harry's hands had absently strayed to the scar on his forehead, quickly dropping to his lap. "If I hadn't had been such an arse and left you, would the battle have come sooner? Would Fred still be alive?" Ron and harry were silent for a moment, grieving for the lost twin. "Would we have gone to Malfoy Manor? Would Dobby have died? Would Bella had found the sword?" And then it was Ron's turn to cry, burying his head in Harry's shoulder and letting the tears run freely. At some point harry dropped his head on to Ron's hair, holding the ginger tightly and letting himself sink into the embrace. Finally they fell asleep; two friends with tear traced cheeks, finally without the burden of war.
Mrs Molly Weasley woke as always at half past seven the next morning, wrapping herself in a dressing gown and venturing down the rickety and unstable stairs. She stopped dead at the bottom of the steps, her foot hovering undecided over the battered wooden floor. Sat at the kitchen table was her youngest son, curled against his best friend. Molly smiled at the two best friends, so innocent and free in their slumbering youth. Grabbing a heavy blanket from the sofa in the living room, she carefully tucked it round the sleeping boys and picking up her knitting from a chair, returned to bed. Before she turned a bend in the staircase, she looked back at the boys. Twisting round, Molly saw a blissful smile grace Harry's face, a first, in a very long time.
THE END.
A/N: So they we have it, something I wrote in about March time but really couldn't be bothered to type up….. Sorry :) I'm going to say this AGAIN but there is ABSOLUTELY NO SLASH INTENTED! I hate Rarry pairings which is why I tried to mention a bit of Hinny and Romione… Hope you enjoyed and please don't forget to follow, favourite and review!
~TheWayTheFeatherFalls xx