When Ron woke up the next time it was in the middle of the night.
Everywhere was water. It filled his mouth and nose.
Murky lake water.
Ron panicked. Desperately looked around, then he saw Harry.
Still sleeping, unconscious or...NO! He wouldn't think about that.
As fast as he could he tried to get beside him and roughly slung his arm around his chest. Harry was heavy and it was difficult to swim upwards to the suface.
The upper part room that was not filled with water was barely high enough poke the head out of the water. Ron held his friend stead with one arm and slapped him on the cheeks to wake him up.
He didn't react.
Harry wasn't breathing.
"Bloody hell! Mate, don't do this to me." muttered Ron checking for a pulse, luckily at least that still worked.
He didn't know how he could react so calm, even though he was screaming in fear internally.
He searched for Harry's wand poked it out of the water and muttered a "Finite Incantatem!" since that was an spell-ending spell, as Harry and had mentioned yesterday during the swamp accident.
To their luck, it worked.
With an ugly "thump" they landed on the wet, algae covered floor when the lake water disappeared. Ron was able to protect Harry's head from the fall, but falling down from the ceiling and having the weight of a grown man land on him wasn't exactly nice.
With a groan he pushed the body off of him, turning his friend on his back, checking for the pulse again. Still there. At least something to work with.
Ron threw away the wand.
As long as he was still causing chaos with his magic he really shouldn't point a wand at Harry even though that would probably the fastest way to help him.

He had to be fast.
In the courage of desperation he roughly gripped the unconscious man's head and pulled it backwards to give the air ideal possibility to flow down on the lungs and he sucked in his breath and then settled his mouth on Harry, blowing the air in.
this wasn't one of the romance movies that Henry was forced to watch with Pauline.
There was nothing romantic about ventilating Harry.
Just the need to act quick and precise, adrenaline and fear burning through his veins.
It felt like an eternity of blowing air in Harry's lungs and controlling the pulse until finally he felt the chest raise and fall. Breath prickled against his face and lips, Harry started to breath on his own again.
Ron wasn't sure if he was allowed to be relieved yet.
Tears burned behind his eyes, still cradling Harry's head in his arms.
"Come on, Harry!" His voice sounded like he hadn't used it for months. Coarse, thin and scared.
"Wake up!" he whimpered, lowering his head and nudged his forehead against the Harry's temple.
He tried to suppress the new float of memories.
Harry pulling him out of the lake, Percy being worried and running towards them not caring about getting his cloths wet and looking utterly ridiculous.
'The thing Harry Potter will miss the most.'
Arms closed around him his neck and Ron felt a hand patting him on the back.
"'m fine, Ron." muttered Harry's very close to his ear.
"Don't...scare me like that." Ron rasped and pressed Harry's head against his chest.
He did it.
Harry was back.

Harry seemed to be very used to near-death situations, since he just sat up, searched for his wand and mumbled a cleaning spell to bring the room back to normal.
He was creepily okay with this dying business.
"In case you didn't notice." muttered Ron observing how relaxed his host was, while he was fixing them a tea.
"You almost died ."
Harry didn't bother to turn around.
His hair was still wet with lake water and clinging to his nape.
Human life was so fragile.
"You'd almost died because of me." he whispered, stepping behind him and leaning his forehead against the back of Harry's head.
He felt Harry shiver and heard the clinking of a teaspoon falling into a mug.
"I..." his friend leaned backwards against Ron's chest.
Suddenly the room seemed to be a lot warmer.
"I've almost died because of a lot more stupid reasons." Harry's voice is loaded with emotions, they both are not willing to acknowledge.
"I don't care, if it is for you, Ron."

Ron knew this kind of atmosphere.
He greeted the feeling of belonging, of trust, of loyalty like an old friend.
He didn't know where he took this courage from.
This was Harry after all. They were the closest...but they weren't like that.
He'd never allowed himself to even think about this.
This was Harry after all.
slightly he turned his head, nuzzled the damp, black hair. Harry trembled against him when he burrowed the nose in the crook of his neck but he didn't object.
His arms closed around Harry's middle and it seemed to him almost like Harry pressed himself slightly against him.
Ron breathed in the scent of lake water and the slightly salty Harry-smell.
When his tongue darted out to taste the skin, Harry moaned quietly.

Ron was still amazed that Harry didn't push him away yet.
He was overstepping boundaries here, that where there for a reason.
They were friends, not...
Ron felt a bit guilty to exploit the passiveness of his friend, since in his mind, while Harry could be clingy, their relationship had always been platonic.
Harry was a weird bloke. Sometimes it seemed like he didn't really know how to decode social behaviour.
Ron wasn't sure if Harry knew what to do with a friend and what not.
Tentatively he sucked on Harry's neck, nibbled at the sensitive skin above the veins.
"Ron..." breathed his best friend and he felt Harry lower body push against his groin.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hopelessly excited.
"mate...." he almost growled needy against the shoulder in front of him, his hand clasping to Harry's hips and pressed them against himself, felt Harry jeans-clad buttocks part a little bit and he desperately pushed his still covered front side between them.
He barely noticed that Harry was standing on the balls of his feet to match his height.
There was no conscious thoughts just the astonishment about all this faith Harry had into him.

He came shortly after. His pants sticky and uncomfortable. Extremely tired and euphoric at the same time he looked down on Harry whose upper body was resting on the kitchen counter.
He was breathing heavily and there was a wet spot on his jeans, right between his legs. His faded T-shirt was lifted a bit, giving free view on his sinewy back, covered in bigger and smaller, older and newer scars.
Ron caressed it fondly, following the red lines of the scarred tissue with his fingers, before making a step back. It was like he just woke up from a very weird dream.
His mouth opened to apologise, but the words got lost on the way.
The early morning sun glistered on his sweat-covered skin when Harry pushed himself off the counter and turned around to look at him.
His expression was as helpless as Ron felt.

this was a difficult chapter. there's a lot of angsty feels and suppressed emotions here.
i had to adjust the rating because of this chapter too. "ORZ
did you notice that Ron doesn't refer to himself as "Henry" anymore? He bit by bit settles in the his identity as "Ron Weasley" again.

I don't often write scenes like that, so please tell me what you think about it.