CHAPTER TEN

With A Little Help From His Friends

"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!"

The chant, started before Sir Nicholas' announcement faded on the late spring breeze, caught as quickly as dry grass in the heat of a wildfire. Ignited by the freedom offered by tomorrow's departure from Hogwarts for the summer and fueled by the delight of possibly causing a feared professor just a hint of discomfort, it flamed higher and higher until it threatened to consume the very silence of the universe.

"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!"

The bridesmaids and groomsmen added their voices to the call. Each grinning and laughing as Snape's dark glare descended on each of them by turn.

"Oh go on, mate." George's voice somehow carried above the tumult. "You know you want to."

After Fred's death, Ron feared his brother developing a death wish. Now it was a reality. He slipped his hand into his pocket and caught the hilt of his wand. For if the potions master didn't hex the man six ways to Sunday, he surely would. It was one thing for the blasted students to incite such foolishness but for his own brother... The bloody bastard knew how uncomfortable he was with this whole situation. He'd been there the night -

"You know, Mr. Weasley." The familiar rich baritone held a note of amusement he wasn't sure he'd ever noticed before. "For the first time since I can remember, you may actually be right."

Without further notice, Snape pulled Hermione into his arms. For less than a moment, his eyes searched hers. His answer came in a small smirk and simultaneous movement that would leave everyone questioning who actually kissed who. But there was no questioning the passion. Or the immense love.

Ron's fingers twitched then tightened around the wooden extension of his hand. After all, wasn't the best way to survive to attack first? He slipped his wand toward the top of his pocket. First George so there was no chance of merciless teasing. Then the groom. With the dungeon bat gone, then the hot jealousy in the pit of his stomach wouldn't eat him alive. It would disappear in the same puff of destruction as his rival. Then Hermione would come to her senses and -

"I wouldn't do that it I were you."

The unexpected voice was so close to his shoulder made he flinched. The wood fell from his fingers as he pulled his hand up and out into the warm evening air, He turned slowly, the burn of his friend's gaze moving from his neck to his cheek then finally to his eyes. The green orbs were narrowed and cautious but compassionate.

"Bloody hell, Harry. What are you trying to do? Put me out of my misery with a heart attack?" He took a step back, giving himself both breathing room and space to react should the encounter turn as sour as some of the more recent ones had. "You've been spending way too much time around those bloody Slytherins."

"Wouldn't do you any harm to spend a little time around them, Ron." His boyhood mate crossed his arms in an almost mirror image of their former professor. "You might find them more Gryffindor than yourself at the moment."

Anger clenched his jaw painfully. His hand twitched, but something in Harry's gaze kept it from going anywhere near his robes. "More Gryffindor? How could those blasted snakes be more Gryffindor than -"

"I don't see one of them threatening to attack his brother or hex a perceived rival when his back is turned." The defender of the wizarding world moved closer, his voice calm and controlled. "I don't see one of them refusing to give one of us a second chance. What are you afraid of, Ron?"

"Afraid of?" He wanted to laugh. Wanted to scoff at the very idea. But he couldn't. Not with the lump lodged in his throat. "Afraid of losing the woman I've loved since I was twelve years old. Afraid of losing my best friend to the same man because of some false sense of obligation? Afraid -"

He couldn't finish. He'd already said more than he ever intended to say. Turning, he started to walk away. Flee to the nearest apparation point and -

The grip on his shoulder was firm but gentle. "Ron, you haven't lost anything and you know it. In fact, if you let yourself, you just might find you've gained a great ally if not a good friend. Severus -"

"Has changed." He gritted his teeth and tried to swallow the bitterness brewed by the endless reminders of what a good man Severus Snape had become. "I know."

Harry sighed. "No, Ron. He hasn't changed. He's just been freed to be who he has always been." He increased the pressure of his fingers until Ron knew he had no choice but to turn and face him again. "He's a good man, Ron. And he loves Hermione the way she deserves to be loved. You and I both know that." He offered a small, understanding smile. "I think if you could see beyond that green haze you've been looking through for months, you might just realize they are truly meant to be. Surely you can't begrudge them that."

Of course he couldn't. Harry was right. They were all right. One can't fight against fate. And he was so tired of fighting. "You're a good friend, Harry."

"In deed he is, Mr. Weasley."

Dread sunk like a millstone in his stomach. Nearly doubled him over when it hit bottom. He stumbled in his haste to face his rival, but a firm grip on his elbow kept him upright. "P-P-Professor."

"Not for some years, Mr. Weasley." Was that a smile the man offered? "It's Severus. Or Snape. Or the bloody dungeon bat. Whatever your preference."

Harry chuckled. But Ron could only stare, stunned beyond speech at the teasing tone painting the man's words.

"If you will indulge a man who has indeed stood in your shoes, allow me to offer you advice I wish I had taken." Obsidian eyes filled with compassion and touched Ron's soul. "Don't let this devour you, son. Let go of first love and start looking for the last. In the whole scheme of things, that is the only one that counts." He bowed slightly. "Now it you will excuse me, I believe there is a cake to cut and a meal to eat."

Ron watched the man make his way toward his bride. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. She smiled softly and touched his cheek. For the first time in months, Ron's heart didn't ache at the sight. Perhaps Snape and Harry were right. Perhaps it was time to let go.

"All right there Ron?"

He glanced at his friend and nodded. "Yeah. I think I am."

Harry smiled. "Good." He started toward the group meandering toward the tent then stopped and looked over his shoulder. "You coming?"

For a moment, he felt like a first year again. Felt like a little food and the company of good friends could fix anything. And maybe, just maybe it could.

Scanning the crowd, he noticed a flash of brown hair, slightly darker and wilder than his first love's. A muggle cousin, perhaps. Or a look-a-like witch. Did it really matter? Not that he was looking for a replacement for the woman who was and would be his friend. But one had to start the look for last love somewhere didn't he?

Or at least that's what he'd realized.

Thanks to a little help from his friends.

Finite Incantatem

A/N: I hope you have enjoyed this little tale. My everlasting thanks for taking the time to read. And for those who review...my utmost gratitude. I hope you will join me in more HG/SS adventures...including my other current on, Vanity, Thy Name Is Death.

Final Disclaimer: Returned safe and sound to their owner, JK Rowling in hopes I can take them out and play with them again