Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, the book, series, movie, song or poem.
I do not own any of the characters used in this story except Henrietta (Henry) Green-wing, she is my own creation, do not steal her. I also own Stinky-pit Lane and the world famous Farting Treacle Tart (it tastes so good). Ask me if you want to use them and I will consider it depending on the context and integrity of the intended use
Thank you and enjoy this story
Farting Treacle Tart
Harry Potter and Ron were walking down Stinky-pit Lane when they decided to go to Diagon Ally to have a cup of tea and a Farting Treacle Tart to share between them.
They gazed across the tart in the little gay café, as Harry cracked it open and the sweet aroma of the fart erupted in there faces. Ron extracted a small box from somewhere Harry couldn't see. Smoothing out the table cloth he tenderly placed the box on the table. Harry couldn't help himself, his gaze slowly dropped to rest on the small, brown wooden box.
"What's that?" Harry inquired
Ron extended his hand across the table, past the box and the Farting Treacle Tart to where Harry's hand lay serenely next to the sugar bowl. Ron slipped his hand softly into Harry's, there eyes met and Ron blushed.
"Now Harry" Ron soothingly half whispered to Harry, "We've been friends for a very long time haven't we…"
"More than just friends" Harry interrupted; glancing down at the box again.
But Ron seemed decidedly distracted, he didn't even smile at Harry's interjection, he just gave a curt nod, removed his hand from Harry's and continued;
"Yes Harry, that's just what I wanted to discuss with you; our relationship"
Harry grinned at Ron; he felt he might soon burst with happiness and expectation. Then Harry noticed that Ron wasn't smiling, in fact he looked positively uncomfortable with the whole situation. He seemed embarrassed and nervous. Ron's expression wiped the smile off Harry's face and sent his emotions 180 degrees to apprehension, what was it that Ron was wanting to say? And what was in the box?
"Harry you know as well as I do that we can't continue the way we are, our feelings for each other will eventually lead to a mistake on one or both of our parts"
Yes, Harry knew, he knew about the prejudice against homosexuality, he knew it wasn't just in the muggle world; homophobia was just as prevalent in the wizarding community.
"Harry you know I've been dating Henrietta Green-wing to keep rumours of our relationship at bay and to establish myself as straight".
"Yes" Harry did know, he had spent a fair amount of time with Henrietta (Henry) himself. Ron had been dating her for about a year but they had been friends for many more before Harry met her. She was a fairly plain sort of witch, she had mid-length chocolate brown hair that she kept up to date with the latest fashion and sparkly hazel eyes. She dressed in the ordinary way, the same as all the other girls her age. Liked to giggle with her friends, dance and had a soft spot for babies and small furry creatures. Harry couldn't see anything that great about her, but then he wouldn't. He couldn't understand why Ron couldn't have just stayed good friends with her, he knew it was a cover, but he hated that Ron had been with her for so very long and that they were in fact quite close. The truth was, Harry was jealous of Henry, every time she want on a date with Ron or they spent any intimate time together he wished he was her. He wanted to rip them away from each other every time they kissed or hugged each other in public. Harry's greatest fear was that Ron liked her more than him and to make matters worst Harry was sure she suspected him of being gay (even though Henry was far to discrete to say anything and certainly would never out him).
Ron continued "well…" he paused, Harry was sure this was the lead up to Ron announcing his split from Henry and making a commitment to him and them coming singing and dancing out of the closet proudly holding hands for all to see. Harry had to pull himself out of his dream as he saw how nervous Ron was, perhaps they wouldn't come out as loudly as that after all.
Ron seemed to regain his composure and adjust his courage as he gently stroked the mystery box. Ron took a deep breath, straightened up and said;
"Harry, I'm just going to come out and say this straight, that is, I'm going straight, I'm going to ask Henry to marry me"
Harry died.
His heart stopped and he couldn't breathe, he clawed at the table in front of him as the world spun around him, even the Farting Treacle Tart that had smelt so good such a short time ago now seemed like vomit.
"But Ron…" he gasped as his lungs filled with small piercing shots of compressed air "the box….I know….it's a ring…..I thought……Ron….we were made…for each other…..how…..how could you do this…..to me…"
"Shhhhhhhhh" Ron hissed in a excellent imitation of Voldemort as he glanced around "watch what you're saying"
Harry gasped like a salmon just hulled out of the deepest part of the ocean, he pointed to the box positioned under Ron's stroking hand.
"That" Ron whispered "is my great grandmothers engagement ring, I'm going to give it to Henry tomorrow night, but I wanted your opinion of it first and also if possible" Ron paused and looked at Harry "your blessing"
Harry just steered at Ron; he was still too shocked to say anything coherent.
"Harry we both know it had to end, I thought we agreed about that. This shouldn't be a shock to you. I mean, it was fun while it lasted, but now it's time to grow up and do what's expected of us. I'm going to marry Henry" Ron said determinedly with a hint of impatient annoyance in his voice.
Finally Harry managed to find his voice "NO" he cried a little to loudly as everyone in the fruity little café looked around at him. A few of the other customers looked concerned at Harry for a few seconds as his face had gone bright red and purple from lack of breathing, the veins in his neck and jaw stuck out like rope, his eyes bulged out and his scar seemed three times its usual size; even Ron seemed slightly disturbed, even a little disgusted by his appearance.
"No, this isn't how it's supposed to happen, we, the two of us, are meant to live happily ever after; this was not supposed to happen…" Harry cried
"Harry, be reasonable, pull yourself together, don't pretend you didn't know this was going to happen, it wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when. Snap out of it!" Ron firmly but quietly told Harry.
"Now, what do you think of this ring" and Ron opened the box to reveal the brightest, sparkliest jewel incrusted platinum diamond ring Harry had ever seen. There was nothing Harry could do but cry as he thought about the future he would now never have and the ring that would never be on his finger. It was a fabulous ring too, Harry could still just imagine the expressions of awe and envy on his friends faces as they fawned over it and wished it was theirs. All that would never happen, life was ruined and couldn't ever get good again, Harry doubted he could ever even be content.
"It's lovely" Harry mumbled to the table his face was resting on. He really just wanted to be sick all over that ring.
"Isn't it just, I can't wait to see Henry's face when I propose…" Ron continued to chatter about his proposal and engagement as Harry imagined Henry's face when she received the ring covered in vomit. He grew more dejected and gloomy as Ron told him about all he would miss out on.
Harry thought he couldn't get any more sad, disheartened or dead, but then the entire situation got worse. Ron's stupid brothers Fred and George entered the café.
"Hey Harry and Ron" one of them said, Harry could never tell which was which, he just pretended he could.
"Who died?" said the other as he looked at Harry's disgusting face.
"No one" answered Ron a little to loudly "He just found out he's allergic to…er…Farting Treacle Tart, he isn't feeling too good" Ron covered with a slight nervous laugh.
"Oh, too bad Harry" Fred said as he reached over to the Farting Treacle Tart and took some himself to eat.
"Hey is that the ring you're going to propose to Henrietta with?"
"Yip" Ron grinned up at his older brother.
George nudged Harry on the shoulder "I was meant to inherit that ring, but mum thought I'd sell or loose it before I managed to get married"
Harry knew George was expecting a laugh or at least a smile, but he just couldn't indulge him this time, George just shrugged it off and returned his attention to Ron.
"It's almost 6 o'clock so we're going home Ron, do you want us to save you some dinner"
"Actually I'm just leaving now"
"What about you Harry, are you coming over for dinner tonight" Fred asked
"No, I don't think I could eat anything" Harry answered griping his guts like he really did have some sort of non descript internal battle going on with the Farting Treacle Tart.
"Right then, we're off" and the twins left the café with Ron following behind, at the door he glanced back at Harry still sitting at the table and there eyes met for a split second before Ron was gone.
Although Harry still felt numb with shock and emotions he was sure he saw a glimmer of regret in Ron's eyes.
AN: I don't know if Voldemort (Hamlets Voltemand) is dead or not, I have not decided/discovered. I think Harry and Ron must be about 19 or 20, maybe 21. What's his name still has his ear and the other isn't dead (Lets pretend the seventh book hasn't happened, ok).
Please review, I love feedback, and you could make any suggestions that you feel would improve the story or plot.