Chapter 8 – Hurt
Harry was walking down the corridor in the direction which he thought Ron had disappeared to when suddenly a classroom door banged open from behind him. He sighed with relief when he saw Ron but frowned at the red-head's expression, feeling the waves of hurt and anger from where he was standing.
"Ron?" His friend muttered something about forgetting a book as he stalked past, leaving him only able to watch worriedly after him. He'd been hoping to do some more groundwork on getting Ron to open up before their first lesson but was now growing concerned at what had sparked his friend's anger. Another noise behind him made him turn around and his stomach churned; God he hated that slimy git. He must have been the cause, he always bloody was. The boy looked at first surprised, but then quickly shifted his expression into one of satisfaction, he sauntered up.
"Well hello Pot-" Harry cut him off angrily, just managing to control his urge to wring the ferret's neck.
"What did you do to him?" A silver eyebrow raised, the lithe boy folded his arms, shaking off whatever had been dampening his usually sharp tongue.
"Nothing he didn't like." Rage swelled suddenly and Harry had to restrain his arms, his cheeks flushing furiously.
"You're lying!" Knowing he was winning, the Slytherin smirked, the saint's frustration and anger making him feel a lot better.
"Face it Potter, you're just jealous that he chose me over you."
"He-" Harry's throat closed up, before he gulped and muttered venomously. "You don't know what you're talking about." Smirk un-moved, Malfoy snorted and replied with a certain weight.
"Sure I don't." Snarling, Harry turned and stalked away, determined to find Ron and…he wasn't sure what, he just knew that he had to find him.
…
"Hermione?" The student looked up from the book she'd been pouring over, seeing Ginny nervously sidle up to her. "Can I talk to you about something?" Nodding, her stomach dropping at the tone, Hermione put down the book and folded her hands onto her lap as Ginny slipped into the chair beside her, looking around quickly at the nearly empty room before beginning. "Well, it's about Ron." Hermione was both relieved and wary at this, having been itching to talk to either Harry or Ron about the state Ron had been in the night before. They'd both been tense at breakfast and during the day's lessons; Ron quiet and distant, clearly wanting to avoid the both of them whilst Harry had been almost writhing with his anxiety. As soon as the last lesson had ended the boys had disappeared and she'd wearily tried to focus on work. Ginny opened her mouth but at that moment Harry appeared, looking worried.
"Have you seen Ron?" Both girls shook their heads and he cursed under his breath before scratching the back of his head distractedly. Hermione exchanged a look with Ginny before venturing tentatively.
"Is there something wrong?" Surprised by their presence, Harry started and gulped before shaking his head dismissively. He turned and walked out again quickly, leaving the girls in an awkward pause. Ginny sighed and slipped into a seat beside her friend.
"Well, anyway, I want to talk about Ron." She paused, looking at the hands in her lap. "Does he seem distant to you?" Nodding slowly, Hermione debated letting some of Ron's secret slip, no details, just the bare bones, just to see what Ginny thought of it. But her friend went on. "Come to think of it, Harry's got a bit distracted as well lately; do you know if there's anything happening between them?" Hermione twisted her lip. Oh why was Ginny saying all the right things? Did she know? What should the secret-keeper say? She decided to play it safe.
"Actually, yes." Ginny looked interested and Hermione licked her lips, hands clasped together, tightening. "Now I don't know what it is. But there's definitely something going on." Tread carefully Hermione. "An argument about something?" The ginger girl twisted her lip, eyes soft and concerned.
"I don't know." She sighed, running a hand through her shoulder-length hair. "I hardly talk to either of them anymore and I don't like it. Harry especially, he's always miles away…you know sometimes." She dropped her voice, glanced quickly around and her cheeks flushed as she admitted. "Sometimes I wonder why we're even together." Keeping her face as calm as possible, Hermione nodded for her friend to continue. "I mean, I love Harry, I really do… I just…" Hermione's mind flooded with whispers of possibilities, optimism flowing in. "The spark's gone. You know?" Hope was flaring in the listener's chest; finally, a realistic solution for everyone. She just had to play it right.
"Well, have you talked to him about-" She smiled slightly at the look on her friend's face. "No, of course not, no one's talking to each other properly nowadays." Returning the smile, Ginny coughed and said lightly.
"Well no one but us." Nudging Ginny with her shoulder, Hermione took a moment to enjoy their friendship. It was such a relief to have someone to talk about these kinds of things with, and not have to comfort someone or worry about everyone's happiness.
…
Halfway through dinner, Harry gave up waiting for Ron to appear, his nervous leg tapping annoying and concerning Hermione; he excused himself and trudged up to the dormitories knowing them to be empty at that time, having a feeling that Ron would be there. He'd been looking for him for hours, Ron must have been running around as much as he was to keep out of sight. Nudging open the door, he peered inside and sure enough, saw his best friend, his lover, pottering around moodily. For a minute, he just watched him affectionately as he searched through his trunk irritably, pulling things out and shoving them back in without much purpose, then shrugged off his robes, toed off his shoes and pulled off his shirt and jumper in one. Then, Harry's heart dropped. As Ron's stomach came into view, so did the bruises adorning it, some small and faded but a few large, dark purple splotches marring the perfect white skin. Even as Harry thought this his lover winced slightly as he bent down to pick up a pyjama top; he burst into the room shouting.
"What the fuck Ron?" Ron jumped, spinning around, lifting the top to his chest instinctively. Harry grabbed Ron's arm as he tried to escape into the bathroom, knowing what Harry was angry about but Harry wouldn't let him, his grip tightened on the pale arm as Ron tried to squirm away. "Did he do these too?" They struggled as the injured called out uselessly.
"Harry, let go!" Snorting breathily, Harry finally released him and snarled.
"I'm gonna kill him!" Tugging his t-shirt on and panting, Ron avoided his eyes and muttered under his breath.
"That would be nice." Harry's sudden strangled cry snapped his head up.
"Why?" Ron snapped his head around and just stared, confused and concerned. "Why did you do it? I thought…I thought we…?" Harry trailed off hopelessly, not knowing how to not say something he'd forbidden himself to say aloud.
"That we were together?" Harry instantly knew where Ron was going but let him say it anyway. "You're with my sister Harry, I'm just your bit on the side." Disgusted at himself, Harry lifted his hands in a calming gesture, eyes pleading.
"No! It's not like that!" Ron curled his lip and snapped.
"Then what is it like?" Harry's hands wrung themselves into a frenzy but the words stuck to his throat, bile in his mouth.
"It's…it's hard okay?" His part-time lover stalked up to him angrily, stabbing Harry's chest with his finger.
"That's bullshit Harry. You just want a bit of everything, a bit of everyone! You want to know why I let him fuck me?" Harry flinched, at his words and his broken voice; Ron stepped back hurriedly, suddenly wanting to put distance between them. "Because he didn't go and pretend to date my sister afterwards!" Softly, weakly, Harry half-cried.
"But…he hurt you!" Energy draining him rapidly, the red-head shrugged and looked away.
"Well, don't cry about it. It's something I'm used to." At this, the floodgates shot open and Harry broke down, sobbing with his whole body, the guilt unbearable. The heavy and desolate silence between them was punctured by his cracked whimpers. Face softening, Ron blinked back his own tears and sighing, stepped forwards and engulfed his lover in his warmest, most loving hug.
"I'm… sor-ry, I-I'm so, sssso ssorr-ry!" Harry stuttered miserably, hate rising high and tight in his chest as he forced out the harsh and bitter sounds. "I…I was j-just so c-confuuused and I, I n-n-nevvver meant t-to h-huurt y-you I swear!" Trying to keep strong against his best friend's trembling, Ron found soft hair against his cheek and inhaled the smell of his lover's hair. Both of them calming gradually against each other, just absorbing the warmth of their chests and hot breath on their necks. And then, barely audible, three little words. "I love you."
Ron was frozen in that embrace, held by his surprise and hesitant joy; he hadn't felt such pure happiness in such a long time, there'd always been something in the way. Gods it felt good. Unfortunately, Harry reminded him of one of those things.
"I'll break up with Ginny, I'll do it as soon as I see her." Instantly Ron's arms stiffened and he pulled away quickly, the loud exclamation bursting from his mouth.
"No!" Eyes widening dramatically, Harry spluttered.
"What? But I thought…" His friend shook his head, seeming angriest at himself than at Harry.
"It's wrong what we're doing Harry, it'd kill her!" Mirroring rage, the dark-haired boy snarled.
"Don't you think I know that? Stop acting like this was all me, it takes two to tango Ron!" The harsh vocalisation of his thoughts stilled him and the red-head gulped, scowling at the floor before his shoulders drooped and he sighed.
"I know. I was wrong…" The whisper was small and brittle. "I was weak." The conflict was obvious, cold and clear; Harry made a half-hearted arm gesture.
"Ron…" But he didn't know what to say; they stared at each other's feet for a long time before muffled sounds from downstairs alerted them to the scant private time they had. In the end, the red-head muttered.
"I don't want you to break her heart." Sadness stained around his eyes as his lover took off his glasses and sniffed, looking down at his limp fingers. Harry cleared his throat, barely feeling the quickly drying tracks of regret down his cheeks as he talked.
"Listen, I don't think it's like that. We're not…we're not 'in love' or anything. Honestly-" Ron cut him off.
"No Harry don't! Don't you dare try to talk your way out of this or, or distract me, it won't work!" He paused and muttered bitterly. "Not this time." The shouts grew louder and Harry wiped his face furiously, putting back on his glasses and clearing his throat again as their roommates came barging in, bantering and laughing. The pair spared another quick glance at each other before turning away and trying to act normal.
…
Over the next few days, everyone kept a close eye on everyone else; it was literally like a circle of hard and concerned stares, Hermione watching the boys, Ginny glancing between Harry and Ron, the boys avoiding and then finding each other's gaze surreptitiously. But the most intense stares were the ones that Draco gave his prey. He kept on shouting insults across corridors and snarling under-his-breath comments to the pair in lessons, generally vulgar and always nasty. Once or twice he'd even allude to what he'd ineffectually threatened.
"Oh look, it's Potter and his Poof!" or "Sore Weasel?", all of which the Gryffindor's just managed to ignore. In addition to his daytime assaults, however, the Slytherin was also trying to snake his way back into the Gryffindor's pants with slick nothings and wandering hands. He'd thrust into the growingly frustrated red-head, persisting despite the rough shoves and fast pace that he maintained to try and escape the irritating ferret who somehow managed to always find Ron when he was alone. No threat, with wand or without, could get the crazy Slytherin to let up. It got so bad that Ron wondered if the blond would actually resort to hexing him into submission and considered telling one of the Professors, but then that would cause a whole lot of other problems he couldn't bear dealing with. But even if the poor attempts at 'seducing' him had been desirable, he still wasn't interested as Harry had grown extremely attentive; almost too much, in fact Ron was a bit concerned with how daring his lover was becoming, reaching for his hand in public and leaning a bit too close for a bit too long. The red-head didn't care about the public touching, just worried about the un-discussed issue of his sister; he hadn't had the chance to finish his talk with Harry and the familiar cold guilt was swirling slowly deep within him.
Three days after he'd confessed his love for his best friend Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead absentmindedly, it was time. Long nights of tossing and turning, biting his lip and frowning hopelessly and he'd gotten nowhere. There was only one course of action and he had to do it, no matter the consequences. He walked briskly up to the Gryffindor Tower and seeing his target, he gulped, thoughts of Ron spurring him on.
"Ginny?" That glorious head turned, bright and shining eyes latched onto his face and a mixture of emotions weaving through her cautious expression. Breathing in deeply, he took the cold hard plunge. "We've got to talk."
