A/N: OK, there's a bit more of an argument in this chapter XDD And I just LOVE having new readers, it actually makes me say "Yay!" out-loud, which makes my brother ask me what the hell I'm doing, and I say "nothing," and... yeah, whatever. Thank you for reviewing, adding the story, whatever! And if your new, feel free to! Know that somewhere, I'm saying "yay!" :D
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter (Though I wish I did, I'd be loaded)
Ron had been listening to the match. And he had to say, Luna ruled. He had to congratulate her, maybe buy her a present (if he ever had any money) or something. Because she certainly deserved it. From saying how nice Ginny was (even after reminding everyone that she had flown into Smith when he did the commentary) to accusing Smith of suffering from something called 'Loser's Lurgy', she had certainly been the best commentator Ron had ever listened to.
He hadn't been allowed to go down to the match; Madam Pomfrey wouldn't hear of it. But, she was getting a fair return in glares, so Ron couldn't hate her much longer. Besides, she made his bed warm, and he couldn't do that kind of charm.
But, either way, he would have heard about Harry Potter's plunge to the ground as McLaggen wacked him around the head with a beater's bat. Within instants he had been lying in the bed beside Ron, who watched as Madam Pomfrey healed his cracked skull.
And now he waited nervously for his friend to return back to life.
By night fall, he noticed Harry lift his head awkwardly.
"Nice of you to drop in," Ron said awkwardly, grinning. He watched his friend blink, look around and touch his head gingerly.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
"Cracked skull," Madam Pomfrey told Harry hastily, shoving him back into his pillows. Ron tried not to smirk. "Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I'm keeping you in overnight. You shouldn't overexert yourself for a few hours."
Suddenly, Harry sat up, throwing his sheets aside. "I don't want to stay here overnight," he said angrily, "I want to find McLaggen and kill him."
This time Ron did laugh. Though he knew that Harry didn't notice.
"Do you know how much we lost by?" he asked once Madam Pomfrey had threatened him to stay in his bed and left for her office, turning off the lights.
"Well, yeah, I do." Ron found his tone to be apologetic. He had subconsciously decided to currently give his friend (or so he called himself) a break. He had just had his head bashed in, to be fair. He probably didn't even remember, the pig. "Final score was three hundred and twenty to sixty."
"Brilliant," Harry said savagely. "Just brilliant! When I get my hands on McLaggen-"
"You don't want to get your hands on him, he's the size of a troll," Ron said helpfully. "Personally, I think there's a lot to be said from hexing him with that toenail thing of the Prince's. Anyway, the rest of the team might've dealt with him before you get out of here, they're not happy…"
This was when Harry seemed to realize who Ron was. And the suppressed glee in his voice. He liked to think that he was just thrilled that McLaggen messed up so badly. But the dark part in the back of his brain told him that he was happy for Harry getting his skull cracked open.
Ron noticed that Harry was nearly back to normal.
He had had this plan; it had involved him attacking Harry, and Harry apologizing, owing Ron his life. But now, they were both in their sick-beds. He reckoned that he probably could take Harry morally, but Madam Pomfrey would pry him off of Harry easily enough. To stop the awkward silence, he just said the first thing that popped into his mind.
"I could hear the match commentary from here," he said, and now he couldn't help but laugh. "I hope Luna always commentates from now on… Loser's Lurgy…" he chuckled. But Harry did not share his happy thoughts right now. "Um… Ginny stopped by while you were unconscious…" he said. And, unhappily, he couldn't help but sense the lightening of Harry's mood. Maybe he would hit him… or… where was his wand?
"Ron," Harry said. Ron froze, and stopped searching the room with his eyes.
"Eh-oh?"
Harry gulped. "Stop that."
Ron frowned. "Stop what?"
Harry looked at him, for the first time in a week. Ron only barely remembered Harry's panicked look as he had called him a bastard… hmm. Maybe he shouldn't have done that… but, to be fair, he had felt like crap.
"OK, I'll stop being happy. It looks like you want me to beat you up."
"I kind of do-"
Now it was Ron's turn to blink.
"Oh, OK."
They lay in silence. Until Harry found the courage to speak, without actually talking about the matter at hand, however.
"Listen, Ron, I'm sorry that I didn't come and see you once you were conscious. I'm just a coward."
Ron scoffed. "Oh, yeah. Defeated the Dark Lord when you could barely speak, and then again, and again… defeated a dragon, a basilisk… and you're scared of me, of course," he said. Now his voice was just unkind, however.
"Well, yeah," Harry said. Ron smirked, unkindly.
"Listen, Harry, do yourself a favor and save it."
"It's not great to know that your best friend wants to murder you!" Harry said, raising his voice, sitting up. But then he lay back down quickly as he heard movement from Madam Pomfrey's office. "Anyways, I'm pretty pissed. So I'm sorry if I'm not in the mood for a heartfelt talk right now."
"I never wanted a stupid talk."
"Then what do you want?" Harry said, raising his voice once more, something that hurt his head.
"I dunno, an apology-"
"For what?"
"For… for…" Ron realized that he was lost for words.
"Exactly, Ron. Exactly," Harry said. Ron felt his ears go red.
"Exactly what, exactly? I mean… what… you know what I mean!"
"Exactly the fact that you would have no reason to be angry about the fact other that we lied to you! And yeah, that's a pretty crappy thing to do, but you know that that's not the reason that I've been hiding from you!"
"Why would you be hiding from me?"
"Why do you want to beat me up?"
"Quiet in there!" Madam Pomfrey shouted. "Or I'll get the headmaster!"
Ron was then resorted to whispering. "Because…" he stopped himself, "I never said that!"
Even in the dark, Ron knew that Harry was rolling his eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it, or not?" Harry hissed at him.
"No, because there's nothing to talk about," Ron said harshly, rolling over and pulling the covers over his head.
Harry was going to leave it, he really was. But maybe it was the frustration of not being able to move, the annoyance at McLaggen, losing the game, his cracked bloody skull, not being able to follow Malfoy before or after the match… whatever it was, it made him not able to leave it.
OK, Harry. Take it calm.
"Muffliato," he whispered, pointing his wand towards Madam Pomfrey's door. He waited a few seconds, and then said, "Ron?"
"Yuh?" was Ron's muffled response. He had obviously been very close to sleep.
"Why are you being such a git?" he said, slightly icy.
So much for calm.
"Huh?"
"I said, why are-"
"I know what you said!" Ron said, shouting unwillingly. "Why the hell are you asking me that?"
"I just want an answer," Harry said calmly.
"To what?" Ron asked, voice hoarse. "What are you talking about?"
And then, Harry exploded.
"Ron, yeah, you can be pissed off at me and Hermione lying to you, but come on! Why don't you just admit that you like her? It's pretty obvious! I don't even understand what that whole thing with Lavender was, Hermione cried for months because of you! She thought that you were going to Slughorn's party with you, but the next thing, you're snogging Lavender's head off! She had a reason to be upset, you know!"
"I-"
"And then I say that I'm dating her, and you say, yeah, go for it!"
"So you knew how I felt about her and still did it!"
"Well you certainly didn't know, then maybe you would have done something about it! But no, yeah, just keep on smiling, throwing rocks at Slytherins!"
"I was being a good friend!"
"You were being a coward!"
Harry did not dare move as Ron swung his feet over the edge of his bed.
"What is this?" he demanded.
"It's the truth," Harry said coldly. "Why can't you just admit it?"
"I have no idea of what your talking about!"
"Oh, yeah, of course you don't! C'mon Ron, it's obvious that you've fancied her since at least fourth year!"
"Wha- who?" Ron said, obvious on insisting that his relationship with Hermione was nothing more than professional.
"Ron, how did you hate Krum as soon as he started googling at her when the previous day you wanted his autograph!"
"Huh? I though he was the enemy, didn't I?"
"Oh, yeah, right! I forgot that one!
"What one?" Ron whined.
Harry stopped to think. Maybe Ron didn't like Hermione. Then what?
And then, there was silence.
"Ron-?"
"OK, OK. Yeah, I like Hermione. Are you happy now? Or maybe you want me to tell you that every time I saw you with her I wanted to rip your head off."
"Great, that means that I'm not the only one," Harry said out-loud. "Wait, that was wrong..."
"You like Lavender?" Ron asked, surprised.
"What? No, of course not. Ew. Sorry." He cringed and was thankful for the darkness, once more.
"No, I know what you mean. So... who is it?"
"You know what? You've admitted it!"
"Well, yeah, but-"
"So... what's the plan?"
"What plan?"
"To get rid of Lavender."
"No, I said mine, you've got to-"
"Kreacher!" Harry called out, desperate for an escape. There was a loud crack, which made both boys jump.
"What the- hey, that's cheating!" Ron shouted at Harry. Harry shrugged though Ron couldn't see.
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