Okay here's the next chapter. Fear not Harry will have a greater part in the next chapter. Sorry if you think this chapter is a bit short, but the next chapter wouldn't fit if I continued.

Thank you soo much to everyone who has reviewed. You've lightened up my days. Thank you Tyler for actually believing I have talent.

Chapter Six: Mixed Emotions

After Harry had placed all his things in Ron's room, which took a while because Hedwig refused to be anywhere near Pigwidgeon, they made their way downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs Weasley had left shortly after Harry arrived, and Mr Weasley and Percy were at work (as they often were in these unsettled times). The twins and Ginny were in their rooms, and Charlie and Bill were outside with the ministry agents. This left just Harry and Ron in the kitchen.

"So what you wanna eat then? Anything, just ask."

"Hmm…" Harry spent a few minutes thinking and a small grin appeared on his face, but only momentarily. "Got any eggs? I'll have an omelette if that's ok."

"Yup, of course." Ron replied, gathering together ingredients.

As Ron began, what looked like cooking, it was clearly apparent who did all the work in the kitchen, and it most certainly was not Ron. Harry sat there smiling at how inept Ron was at cooking. Ron, on the other hand, was deep in concentration. 'I've got to do this well. How's it gonna look if I can't even cook!' he thought, while (attempting) to chop up some ham into nice squares. Harry, seeing this, got up and went to show Ron how it's done.

"Oh no. Sit down Harry you must be shattered. Let me do this." appealed Ron, as Harry took hold of the knife. When Harry's hand touched Ron's it was though lightning had just hit, as the shiver went down Ron's back. This made Ron retract his hand, quickly. He didn't want Harry to think that he was touching him in a more than friendly way. Harry, however, didn't make anything of the passing contact, as it wasn't exactly a rare thing. People touch each other all the time without noticing. Ron gave up, and resigned himself to watching Harry at work.

"Harry please, I can't let you work when you're this tired." asked Ron, a little pleadingly.

"It's ok Ron. I used to do all the breakfasts at the Dursley's, before Dudley went on his diet, so it's no biggie. Do you want some too? You look as though you need it." replied Harry, happily enough cooking.

"Oh Harry, you're not at the Dursley's and I don't want you to feel as though you are. I just want you to relax and forget them." Responded Ron, with a clear sound of concern on his voice (as well as a little despair).

"Look, it really is ok. I actually enjoy this. It's really relaxing, I'll teach you sometime, if you want."

"Ok then, if you're sure you WANT to do it." surrendered Ron, with a large emphasis on the want. Ron let out a small sigh and went and sat at the table. Time seemed to flow in slow motion for a minute, as he looked up at Harry. The soft sunlight shone through the kitchen window, illuminating Harry's beautiful features. His eyes, sparkling a radiant green. The warm, happy smile on his face heating the whole room, and touching Ron's heart in a way words cannot possibly describe. 'I feel really lost. I'm being torn apart. On the one hand I'm so happy just to be in his presence, I mean we have a laugh and muck about. I feel so alive whenever he's around me. But then I have this aching in my heart. This deep, searing pain inside. I just feel so alone, even when there are so many people around me. I just want to share my soul with someone. To open up all I have to say. I need release. I wish things were easier, or I could turn off the pain. Better still I wish I didn't think this way. I wish I were like everyone else my age, more interested in sex than a true emotional bond. I, I just wish.' Time seemed to speed up again, as Ron was jolted from his thoughts. He seemed to regain himself this time, after realising what he had been doing, again.

"So do you want some or not?" invited Harry, looking straight into Ron's eyes. This caught Ron off guard as he saw the innocence and happiness in those loving eyes.

"No thanks. I ate earlier." he lied again, for Harry's sake obviously (he told himself), because he didn't want to say that he'd lost his appetite as this would bring up questions as to why.

"Ok then." responded Harry as he sat down at the table with Ron, who promptly stood up and began to clean the pan. "It's cool Ron, I'll do the washing up, seeing as I made the mess."

"Nah, it's fine mate. So anyway what you wanna do later then?"

The two boys had a long conversation about everything from quidditch to Fred and George's latest inventions. By the end of which Harry realised how tired he was after all. He decided to go up to Ron's room and sleep for a bit, while Ron decided to read a book.

Once Harry was upstairs and the kitchen was clean, Ron headed outside with his book.

***

Ron started walking out into the fields. One of the ministry agents tried (unsuccessfully) to be subtle in following him. Ron decided to let the agent follow him because he knew that his parents would have a go if they knew he was shaking off the agent on purpose, especially after the lecture when the agents first arrived about the "being here for your own safety". He realised he'd only be able to get away once a week, if that, before everyone became suspicious. He decided to walk somewhere else, not his special spot, because no one could know about that place. It was his one place he could always escape too without anyone knowing where he was.

Ron sat under a small oak tree, shaded from the afternoon sun. His head was buzzing. It felt as though he was thinking a million things all at once. Harry, loneliness, the future, everything. 'Why does it have to be so complicated? I just want this all to go away. To stop caring, to let everything drift away. No. I want Harry. I want to be happy, to feel love. To… But this isn't going to happen. I have to get over it. I can't. Love, true love, never ends. Even if it is unrequited. I just don't get it. When I see Harry I'm so happy, yet so sad, so pained. I can't tell anymore, what I feel. If I even feel anything anymore. If I even want to feel anything, or if I just want it all to end.' Blood pulsate in his head. It felt as though it would explode. 'I know this is stupid, I'm only 15. But I know this is real. Age as nothing to do with it. I just want to stop wallowing in self-pity but I just can't. I wish I, I don't know what I wish. I want to feel pain, deep physical pain. I want to punish myself.' Ron sat there wishing he could cut himself. Just one more time. But he knew he couldn't let the agent see, his parents would find out and he'd never get the chance to do it again. He sat there for hours, staring into the sky, thinking but not really thinking. His thoughts just ran through his mind without any real control. If he could have Harry, if he would ever be happy, if he had to give up before it got worse. Questions just kept coming. He was fighting to keep the tears back, but he couldn't hold them all back. A lone tear trickled down his cheek, glistening under the sun. The ministry agent just sat and watched, as Ron appeared to be reading his book.

***

Night started to set in, as the sun slowly faded away in the distance. Ron stood up, wiping the lone tears from his face, and headed back to the Burrow. After all he didn't want Harry to wake alone, just in case he had a nightmare.