Ron, who had been avoiding his best friend all day was slouched miserably in one of the many squashy, moth-eaten armchairs in the Weasley's sitting room. Every time Harry or even Hermione tried to approach him he'd just mumbled something about chores and walk off onto another room.
"I'm getting sick of this" Harry muttered angrily to Hermione as they de-gnomed the garden. "Why is he being such a foul git? The amount of times I've tried to ask what's wrong with him and all I get is a glare. Just tell him, Hermione! Maybe a bit of action will put a smile on his glum mug."
He looked round to his exasperated friend who was presently wrestling a gnome out of the vegetable patch. She immediately let go of the squash-faced creature and turned to Harry her red, muddy face suddenly turned sad.
"Harry, I've told you before Ron doesn't like me like that."
"Yes he does! Isn't it obvious? Come on, Hermione! You're supposed to be the smart one. The way he glares at me when we've been alone together, like he thinks that we're a thing. He's just acting out of jealousy because he thinks you like me instead of him!" Harry stared at her imploringly, secretly thinking that if he ever thought Ron liked him like that he wouldn't pause to make a move.
"Trust me Harry, Ron doesn't and will never return my feelings. Remember when I tried to tell him? Remember how he said he thought of me like another, less annoying Ginny? He sees me like a sister and..and nothing more." Hermione gulped as she spoke the last words and harry could tell that she was trying her best not to cry. He reached over with his mud-caked hands and pulled his sobbing friend into a hug.
"Well he doesn't know what he's missing then does he?" he whispered soothingly into her bushy hair "And listen, you know that if I was straight I'd definitely try it on with you, you're beautiful."
She pulled back from Harry smiling tearily up at him. "Thanks Harry, I love you" and she pecked him on the lips to show it.
As they broke apart, still smiling at each other harry asked her "You haven't told anyone else, have you?"
"Of course not Harry! But I really don't see why you haven't told anyone else. People don't care about these things anymore, especially in the wizarding world. The amount of witches and wizards who came out after Dumbledore did in the 80s-"
"Yes but they weren't the Chosen One were they? I need as much support as I can get! Don't kid yourself, 'Mione even in our world there's homophobia." he sighed glumly pulling away from her completely.
"But Dumbledore-"
"But Dumbledore nothing! It's like you said, he came out in the 80s! That was after he gained all his support and defeated Grindelward and set up the Order! Don't you see? He knew that he had to wait until he had done enough to be supported either way. He wasn't stupid and neither am I. I only told you because I had to tell someone and you know I can't tell Ron! I don't want him to think that I fancy him when I don't." This was, of course only half true. Harry didn't want Ron to think that he fancied him but the fact was that Harry did and desperately. The amount of times Harry had woken up from a wet dream screaming Ron's name wishing it had been real was more than Harry was proud of.
"Oh Harry!" sighed Hermione, bringing him out of his trance "I'm sorry I know it must be hard, I won't ever tell anyone I promise, not until you think it's right" she smiled reassuringly up at him and reached for his hand.
They stood like that for a while, hand-in-hand, their eyes staring out to the gnome-free garden both quite lost in thoughts of the love they could never have, happy at least to have each other. Harry breathed deep and exhaled a sigh, breaking the silence.
"I'm going to get showered and changed" he said pulling his dirty hand out of her rather darkened one "can't be like this at dinner Mrs Weasley wouldn't be pleased. Remember what she did to the twins?"
Hermione gave a soft giggle at the funny memory of Mrs Weasley hosing Fred and George down in the garden with a rather strong shot of water she had produced from her wand.
"Good idea" and they both walked back into the Burrow.
Ron who had been watching the scene from afar in his attic bedroom climbed over to his small bed shaking with both heart break and rage, buried his wet face into a pillow.