DISCLAIMER: I own none of these characters. I don't own anything related to Harry Potter. My version of Half-Blood Prince in Ron's point of view, with a few twists and turns.

A Dietary Need
Part Ten: Great Love and Really Evil Spells

Ron had spent most of the evening waiting up for Harry. He'd sat on his bed, kicked his feet against the sides, thrown Dean's soccer ball around to himself, read his school books and tried to count sheep. All of these things never helped him sleep, or stay awake or whatever he was trying to do. It was only when he sighed with annoyance and kicked off his shoes, pulled down his pants, took off his shirt and slipped beneath his covers did sleep really claim him. He hadn't been trying to sleep then, he'd only done it for a more relaxing position.

But it seemed only a matter of minutes before a hand was at his shoulder shaking him awake. Ron's eyes snapped open in a flurry, he sat upright feeling weight move across his bed. He couldn't see who it was in the dark, but he had a fair idea.

'Harry?' he asked hesitantly. 'How'd it go?'

'Lumos.' Harry had pulled out his wand and lit up the bed, Ron could see him now. He looked thrilled, the hand that held his wand was shaky with joy. Harry was sitting cross legged at the end of Ron's bed, grinning madly at him in the pale yellow wand light.

'How'd it go?' he asked again, leaning against the backboard of his bed and allowing the sheets around his shoulders to fall and pool at his waist.

'It went so well!' Harry said, exhausted yet brimming with excitement. 'I'm sorry I woke you up and everything, but I couldn't wait until morning, I needed to tell you now.'

'Did he give you the memory?' Ron asked.

'Yes!' Harry said, grinning again. 'It was easy, simple. And then the Fat Lady wouldn't let me in, she'd pretended the password had changed because I woke her up, ridiculous right?'

'Was the Felix wearing off by then?'

Harry shrugged, and placed his hands on Ron's feet that were covered by the blankets, and pushed against them. 'Must have been. But then Nearly Headless Nick told me Dumbledore had returned so I ran off to talk to him and tell him I had the memory. He was so pleased.'

'How'd he give you the memory?' Ron screwed up his eyes, squinting to see Harry as the wand light dimmed. Ron thought that he looked rather handsome sitting there like that, his hands squeezing Ron's feet. Harry looked disheveled, his hair sticking up more then usual and a faint glow of pink about his cheeks. Ron liked it.

'Oh.' Harry looked surprised by the question. 'Pulled it out of his head and put it in a bottle for me.'

Ron frowned. 'Ew,' he commented.

'I'm used to it, seen Dumbledore do it a thousand times.'

'No need to show off,' Ron said grinning, as he pulled out his own wand and muttered 'Lumos' to add to the light. Harry's face came back into view.

Harry smiled back and let of Ron's feet, watching them as he wriggled them. 'So then we saw the memory.'

'What happened?'

'Slughorn told Voldemort about Horcruxes.'

Ron resisted the urge to flinch at the name, it worked.

'They, Horcruxes, they … Hermione was right it's really, really dark magic. You split your soul,' Harry said pulling his joint hands apart to indicate what he meant. 'And you put these bits of your soul inside things.' Harry edged up the bed a little, and Ron opened his arms to him.

'Voldemort, he said to me two years ago "I was ripped from my body, I was less then a spirit, less then the meanest ghost … but still, I was alive."' That must have been what he meant.' Harry leant back against the backboard like Ron was and wrapped an arm around his naked shoulders. Ron rested his head against Harry's shoulder.

'What happened next in the memory?'

'Voldemort - except he was still Tom then - asked Slughorn how you split your soul.'

Ron shivered. 'He told him, didn't he?'

'Yeah, he did tell him,' Harry said, his voice dropping low. 'Before you can split your soul and put bits of it inside Horcruxes you need to do something evil. Like murder.'

'I don't get what good these Horcruxes do, apart from hiding your soul away.'

'Well, basically you need to destroy all the Horcruxes he made in order to defeat him properly.'

He sat unmoving for a few seconds, processing this new information and then he wrapped his arm around Harry's stomach and pressed closer to him. 'So, You-Know-Who has split his soul and hiding bits of it in Horcruxes?'

'He did, seven times. Well, not really. The seventh part is still in him.'

'Blimey, six times?'

'But it's ok.'

'How is that ok?' Ron asked nervously. 'That means someone is going to have go out and find all of these Horcruxes and destroy them before he can be killed!' Ron's brief bout of anger dropped and he looked into Harry's eyes fiercely. 'Please don't tell me you'll have to do it?'

'I'm the "Chosen One",' Harry said, sighing deeply.

'And then there's that bloody prophecy!'

'Ron, calm down!'

Ron's hands had clasped on the fabric of Harry's shirt and his face was buried in the folds, his forehead pressing above Harry's heart. The idea that Ron might one day lose Harry was suddenly all too much, he hadn't thought much when Harry told him of the prophecy and now it hit home, and hard.

'Ron,' Harry said in the soothing voice. 'It'll be ok, everything will be ok. Everything's ok, I'm still here aren't I?'

'Yeah,' Ron sniffed holding back tears. 'But you might not one day. Then what will I do?'

'Nothing will happen to me!' Harry said. 'Nothing will, not while I have people like you and Hermione to help, nothing will happen.' This didn't help Ron. So Harry tried again. 'And there are only four Horcruxes left.'

'Whaddya mean only four, I thought he made se- six?' sniffed Ron, still holding on tightly to Harry.

'You remember the diary that your sister had? And that I found back in second year?'

'The one you stabbed with the tooth?'

'Yeah, well that was one of his Horcruxes, and I destroyed that. And Dumbledore destroyed another. He said-,' Harry stroked Ron's hair, he could feel him trembling.

While Harry stroked his hair, Ron tried to think of a time where he had been this openly upset in front of Harry. He couldn't think of one.

'- he said that I can destroy Voldemort because I can love, he said it protects me.' Ron's snivels subsided a little and he whipped his nose on his wrist. 'He said as long as I love and have people to love me I'll be protected.'

'Harry, I love you,' Ron stammered. 'Does the fact that I love you mean you'll be safe?'

'Dumbledore said it does, and when has he ever been wrong?' Harry asked him.

Ron chuckled. 'Never.' Harry stopped caressing his hair.

'Feel better?' he asked softly.

'Yeah mate thanks.' Ron kissed him goodnight and together they slept in the same bed for the fourth, or was it the third time? Ron couldn't remember and he didn't care, all he wanted to feel was the warmth of Harry next to him. It was soothing.

When Ron fell soundly asleep in his arms Harry muttered his voice sharp and hateful. 'I want Voldemort finished, and I want to do it.'

The follow fortnight saw Katie Bell returned to Hogwarts, reinstated on the Quidditch team and the Gryffindor team having some of the best practices in a long while with McLaggen gone and Katie back in her old position.

Ron was deeply nervous about the upcoming game; his Keeping had begun to drop whenever he thought Harry was watching him practice. It was distracting having Harry watch him perform, it made him feel a need to be wonderful and of course that need then added extra pressure, and under pressure he always failed. But whenever Ron knew Harry wasn't watching him, he saved anything thrown, belted or hurled his way.

One night after practice he and Harry were the last ones in the changing rooms, Harry squatted down in front of him as he pulled his shoes back on.

'You were distracted out there, weren't you?' his captain asked.

'Yeah,' Ron shrugged, tying up his shoe-lace. 'By you.'

Ron saw that Harry had difficulty trying to hide a blush, but he managed it somehow, Ron knew that Harry was going to have to be dead serious during this talk; it was his duty as a Captain. Ron would just have to try not to laugh.

'Ron,' Harry groaned. 'Stop watching me when I play.' He hit him lightly on the knee.

Ok, maybe not so serious. Ron thought. 'I swore you were going to give me a "Ron, it's your job to watch the hoops and not me, blah, blah, blah," type of speech!'

'Yeah, well, I mean that. You do have to watch the hoops and not me, but I can't deny that I find your affections and attention flattering,' he teased.

Laughing, Ron leaned down, closing the distance between them, and kissed Harry on the lips. 'We are so going to win this game,' he promised. 'I'll save every attempt at a goal!'

'Good,' Harry grinned. 'And then when we win, we can make out in front of Cho for a bit.'

'Sounds like a plan,' Ron smirked and kissed Harry back.

Harry moved so he was kneeling on his knees and pulled Ron down closer to him and kissed him harder, parting his lips with his tongue. He uttered a small moan as Ron slid his tongue inside his mouth, and explored. Ron shuffled forward so he slipped from the bench and knelt in front of Harry, their tongue's still battling.

After he felt Harry's hands tug on the base of his shirt, Ron relented. He lifted his arms and let Harry pull the clean off his body; all Ron asked for was the same.

'Take your shirt off,' he said, coolly.

'No,' Harry refused him with a grin. 'You're shirtless enough for the both of us.'

'It's not fair,' whined Ron. 'If my shirts off, yours should be too.' He made a grab for the base of the shirt, trying to yank it off. Harry fell backwards, Ron on top of him.

'Take it off,' Ron whispered in his ear, kissing his neck eliciting the gasp he'd wanted from Harry.

Harry groaned as Ron's mouth sucked and nibbled at his neck, teasing him. 'No,' he managed to moan out before he got used to the ministrations.

Deciding to tease Harry until he gave in, Ron got to his feet and wandered away, smirking to his own self. He heard Harry scramble to his feet and rush over to him. Suddenly he was tackled to the ground by a shirtless Harry, his torso gleaming with new sweat.

'Oh, you did,' Ron said, his plan hadn't lasted for long, Harry had given in right away. He was about to say something else before Harry's tongue attacked his collar bone, darting over the bone and sucking at the skin.

He felt something else, a sensation down below. He flushed, but Harry had felt it too, pressing against his leg.

'Ron,' he giggled, in a way that Ron could only describe as innocent. Then not so innocently he rubbed against Ron, sending shocks of pleasure and shivers through him. Ron felt Harry's own arousal and open his blue eyes, heat spreading across his cheeks.

'Harry,' Ron said back. His voice wasn't giggly or innocent as Harry had tried to make his; Ron's voice was hard with stimulation and need for more. Harry seemed to understand this and reached a hand down between them, rubbing Ron's erection through the fabric of his jeans, his green eyes never leaving Ron's blue ones.

Groaning as Harry touched him, even through fabric, Ron bucked his hips up. 'Harry,' his whispered again, his mouth remaining open.

'Just let it happen, Ron,' Harry responded, his voice barely more then a whisper.

Gulping, Ron nodded as Harry began to unzip his pants and pulled them down in one fluid movement past his buttocks. He reached inside his underwear and grasped Ron's erection. This time, Ron moaned Harry's name loudly. Harry responded to this by moving his hand up and down the shaft and leaning forward to quickly kiss Ron.

Ron let out a whimper as Harry pumped faster; he pried his eyes open to look at Harry who was staring straight down at him.

'You're close?' Harry asked him after a number of pleasure filled minutes.

Ron - who was new to this, Harry seemed experienced – nodded. 'Yeah,' he managed to splutter out as he felt the sensations in the neither regions building. Only a few more strokes now, he was the close.

And then it happened. Quite expectedly, Ron uttered a cry which was accompanied by Harry's name and came, some over his chest and some over Harry's hand. To Ron's amazement, Harry lifted his hand to his own lips and lapped at some of the creamy liquid. Ron blinked, watching him as he fumbled for his wand, in order to mutter a quick cleaning spell.

After they'd cleaned up and redressed, Ron wrapped his arms around Harry and kissed his neck. 'That was …' he paused unsure of the words he wanted, 'incredible.'

Ron was sitting in the common room, his legs lazily draped over one side of the arm chair. Their armchair, Ron thought to himself, and gave a dazed smile. He was reading, or trying to read, over his potions notes, but none made much sense to him.

He was about to give up when Harry came bursting into the common room, drenched in … blood. Ron gave a start and lurched out of his chair, his heart pounding in his chest. He ran forward, Harry caught him in his arms. Ron could feel the unsteady beat of his heart, he was panicking.

'Blood?' he asked nervously as they broke apart. 'Harry! What happened? Are you ok? Oh, Merlin …'

'No time, give me your potions book!' Harry panted, bending over to regain his breath. 'I need it now!'

'What happened?' Ron said, raising his voice and almost bellowing. He was unaware that Harry's blood soaked appearance was gaining attention.

'I'll explain later, just give me the book!'

Thrusting the book against Harry's chest, Ron stared at him, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. Harry was completely covered in blood, whose blood? His own? He didn't look hurt.

Unable to spare time to thank him, Harry hurtled past and up the stairs to the dorm room. A mere second later Ron was thrown the Half-Blood Prince's book and Harry was gone leaving a small first year staggering in the door way.

Ron could think of nothing else to do but follow him, he sprinted in order to catch him with his friend out of the still open portrait door. Seeing the end of Harry's cloak whip around a corridor, Ron followed it and nearly crashed into Harry was the boy had come to a skidding halt in front of Professor Snape, who was also covered in blood.

'Ron,' Harry hissed, looking alarmed at his arrival and even more so alarmed that Ron was clutching the Prince's book. 'I'm fine, go please.'

Snape shot him a dirty glare and then yanked the bag out of Harry's hands and began pulling the books out of it. Realization hit Ron hard and fast, he gaped, suddenly feeling as though he was unable to breathe. He did all he could think of doing, hid the book behind his back muttering his apologies to the Professor and backed away, waiting behind the corridor for Harry.

His heart was beating out the same furious rhythm in his chest, boom, boom, boom, boom, a pause, and then, boom, boom, boom, boom. Holding the book, he peered around the corner at Harry and Snape.

Snape looked livid, anger was apparent on his face and his fists where clenched as though he wanted to hit something. As much as Ron strained he couldn't hear the furious stream of words that poured out of Snape's mouth. Harry's back was to Ron, but he could see the tension in his bunched shoulders as he handed Snape what Ron knew to be his potions book.

After a few infuriated shouts from Snape and a few quiet replies and protests from Harry, Ron saw the professor stalk off, scratching at the dry blood on his clothes. Harry was still fixated to the spot.

Ron came out of his hiding places to stand beside Harry; he took his book back and gave Harry the Prince's. To his surprise Harry refused to touch it, and pushed it back into Ron's hands.

'I don't want to touch it,' Harry told him, staring at his feet.

'What happened, Harry?' Ron asked, pulling him into a hug.

'Not here,' Harry said, peering around even though the corridor was deserted he still demanded that they go to their dorm room before he told Ron anything.

Sitting at the end of Harry's bed, Ron was in very much the same position as Harry had been when he'd come from Dumbledore a few weeks ago. Ron had his legs crossed and Harry was huddled under his blankets leaning against the backboard of his bed.

'Tell me what happened?'

Harry stared at the ceiling, closing his eyes. 'Ok,' he said finally. 'There was a spell in the Prince's book, marked for enemies, called Sectumsempra. I used it on Malfoy.'

Ron looked at the blood on Harry's clothes and looked down at his own, minimally stained ones. Malfoy's blood perhaps? Ron remained as composed as possible, though he knew he was shaking. 'Wh- what did it do?' he asked, voice quavering.

'Cut open his chest, blood everywhere,' Harry croaked, sounding like Kreacher with his raspy voice. 'I didn't know, I didn't know.'

'Is he ok?' Ron asked his eyes wide.

'Yeah, fine, scarring though, Snape said.'

Shuffling forward on the bed, Ron reached out to Harry and caressed his cheek. Harry leaned into the touch.

'I swear I didn't mean it,' he said, voice breaking.

'Bloody hell, you don't need to tell me you didn't mean it, I know you didn't.'

Ron bobbed in front of the hoops, his red hair swishing about his face, thinking of Harry as the ball was safely up the other end of the pitch. All Harry had had to endure because of what he'd done was a lecture from McGonagall and about a hundred detentions from Snape. Ron though it could have been worse, he most definitely could have expelled. Honestly, though he hadn't told Harry this, Ron was surprised he hadn't been.

Right now Harry was serving the first of his detentions with Professor Snape, of course the prick had made so that Harry couldn't play today or for the rest of the very short season. Ron bristled with annoyance and focused on the whereabouts of the Quaffle again.

He risked a look at the scoreboard, if Ginny could catch the Snitch now, they would win. Ron understood she was waiting; Harry always waited until they were far ahead before he caught the Snitch and finished the match.

The red Quaffle was flying his way, instinct told him what to do. He sat on his broom, eyes focused, not letting any other thought enter his head, he was about to pounce on the Quaffle but it never came. He looked around in confusion and he saw that Katie Bell had intercepted it and was flying down the pitch, heading towards the Ravenclaw hoops.

Suddenly an outburst of screams and cheers broke through, and the seas of red clad people were on their feet, stamping and hugging one another. Ginny was zooming around the pitch, her hand which held the Snitch was raised high above her head, and she was grinning broadly. Ron snorted; she was even more of a show off then Harry. He abandoned the goal hoops and zoomed down to join the team on the pitch, joyously yelling their success as he flew.

On that same evening, the rest of the Gryffindor's were patiently waiting for Harry to return from his ill-received detention in the common room. Ron however was not being patient; he was pacing in front of the portrait with most of the Gryffindor's teams eyes watching him as he walked. The rest of the house had already cracked open the Butterbeer.

'Ron,' Katie groaned, bored with his pacing. 'Would you please stop?'

Ron shook his head.

'He's just eager to see Harry,' Ginny said and laughed loudly, but still bearing a good-natured grin. 'Loverboy's getting nervous?'

'What?' Katie asked surprised.

'Oh, you don't know,' Hermione said and giggled. 'They got together.'

'As in together, together?' Katie asked.

'Yup.' Ginny grinned.

'Really?'

'Really, really.'

Before Ron could roll his eyes and tell the three girls to shut it, the portrait door creaked cautiously open and Harry stuck his head around. As the others in the room noticed his arrival a loud chorus of cheers and hoots broke out. Ron bounded forward and hugged Harry intensely, squeezing him tightly.

'We won!' he exclaimed. 'We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty!'

'You let goals in,' Harry scolded, but beaming with pride all the same.

'I got distracted,' he admitted as Harry planted a big kiss on his lips.

'Oh,' Katie Bell said to Ginny and blushed. 'Ok, now I believe you.'

Please review! Only takes about thirty seconds maybe even less! And I'd love to know what you think.