Harry and Ginny were the perfect couple, and everyone knew it. Their family supported it, the media adored it, Ginny was thrilled, and Harry… Harry, not so much.
It wasn't that he didn't love her. Because he did, more than he could ever imagine loving any girl. That, of course, being the problem. Because there was a certain boy Harry loved so very much more… There was a boy who sent Harry's heart to racing every time he saw him, who made his hands shake and his knees weak, who did embarrassing things to his nether regions, and always had a smile that said just how oblivious he was to all of this.
There was a boy that was going to look very good standing at the alter with Hermione Granger if Harry didn't do something about it soon.
"What do you think of that one Harry? It's not too expensive, and sorta plain, but it suits her, right?" the freckled object of his affection asked pointing toward the elegant picture in the catalog, and Harry wanted to cry. Ron had the most adorable look on his face, his red mop of a head cocked to one side, gnawing on one plump lip, his eyebrows drawn in concern. It was all Harry could do to lift a sardonic eyebrow, instead of tackling him to the ground, chair and all.
"Did you just describe the love of your life as cheap and ugly?"
Ron colored immediately, and shot Harry a rather fiery look. Before Harry could chuckle and apologize, Ron had sighed, dropped his head and pressed his forehead to the oak table they were seated at. "This is harder than I thought."
Harry patted his back comfortingly. "Come on mate, it can't be that bad, you know she'll like anything you get her. That one's pretty nice. And aw, here!" Harry pointed helpfully to the picture on the next page, inwardly cursing the reflex to comfort Ron. "This one's nice, and not much more than the other!"
Ron perked up immediately, a smile forming on his lips as he sat up just enough to look without quite dislodging Harry's hand on his back.
"You're right mate, this one looks perfect!" Harry, realizing his hand was still there, removed it hastily. Ron was already scanning the price and ordering options when his face fell. "But it only comes in silver,"
"What's that matter?" his voice was concerned, though inwardly his thoughts were more along the lines of 'Why am I being so bloody helpful!?'
Ron looked at him like he was crazy. "Remus. Werewolf. Remember?" He shook his head, "Really mate, you should think these things through. I imagine he'll be around a lot, being married to your godfather and all."
Harry's heart was beating rapidly, and his face wearing what he could only define as a dopey grin. Ron was treating him and his like a part of the family. Thank Merlin Ron was too busy staring at the rag to notice.
"Especially once you marry Ginny,"
Well, didn't that just knock the smile right off his face. "Oh, yes, er, Ginny. Actually Ron, I've been meaning to talk to you about that."
Before Harry could finish, the clock on the kitchen wall (a home warming gift from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,) chimed loudly, the hands marked "Harry" and "Ron" spinning from "home", to "late".
"Damn! Mum'll kill us if we're late again! Ron was already up, shrugging his coat on and halfway to the floo when he turned back to see Harry still sitting at the table, wearing an odd expression. "Er, you coming mate?"
Harry looked up, dejected and blushing and stood. "Yeah, of course,"
Honestly, if there was one place in the world Harry really didn't want to be at that moment, it was the Burrow.
Really, he loved family Sunday dinner at the burrow, basking in the glow of acceptance, but since his place in the family had recently been narrowed down from family friend to Ginny's future spouse, it had become a bit less of the warm and comforting atmosphere, a bit more like hell.
It would start the minute he made it through the floo, Ron's steadying hand catching his shoulder, and before the warmth of that gesture had even faded, someone would be shouting to Ginny that he was there. The redheaded girl, now eighteen and ready to wed, would come barreling down the stairs and catch him in a bear hug that put Ron's to shame. She would then proceed to kiss him in front of her whole family, who would make catcalls, and drag him by the hand to the table, berating him for his tardiness and lack of communication on the way.
Hermione would already be there, and she would peck Ron gently on the cheek, making him blush to the roots of his hair. The twins, at this point, would make a crude joke Ron would get angry, and Mrs. Weasley would call from the kitchen for help. While Ginny and Ron, (by virtue of their young age) went to assist their mother, one of the older siblings would elbow Harry, and ask a question alluding to his plans for the future. He would stammer, blush, and sidestep the question, just in time for the food to arrive and dinner to start. During dinner, Hermione would talk about work, Ron would talk about Quidditich (or Hermione), Ginny would skillfully drop hints about dates and planning and seasons, and Harry would try to avoid looking at anyone, for fear of being pulled into any one of these conversations, all of which, by dessert, would have led him to rhapsodizing about Ron, Ron's skills, or Ron's plans.
After dinner, Harry would be frantically looking for a way out, and it would come in the form of a game of Quidditich. He would then find himself shirtless, sweaty, and horny, from watching Ron zoom around on his broom in a similarly shirtless and sweaty condition.
If his team lost, Ron and he got to home early.
If his team won, Ron would tackle Harry to the ground, where they would wrestle like schoolboys again, and Harry would have to make an excuse to go home, to avoid anyone noticing the effect this had on him.
Either way, he would end up frustrated as hell, jacking off in the shower, and fighting off a feeling of emptiness, because (whether in reward for his hard work, or condolence for his loss), Hermione would grab Ron right before he left, pull him into a quiet corner, and snog him senseless.
It was all just too much.
AN: Yeah, I'm ashamed of my review whoring ways, and as retribution, i shall never again ask for reviews. Not that it matters, since the review button is broken. Sucks doesn't it? Yep, completely broken... What, you don't believe me? Fine! Be that way! Mash it! What do i know, I'm just the author! You're so smart, obviously you've seen straight through my poorly disguised attempt to deceive you, and will mash that button and tell me what i fool i am. That would serve me right.