GHOSTS
VIII
Fairytale

***

"So. Um," Ron said nervously, running a hand through his hair. "How was your holiday?"
"You didn't go home," Harry said flatly. "Fred and George came by — they were quite surprised not to find you here. I made them promise not to tell your mum, but don't blame me if you're in heaps of trouble for this." He looked up, falling just short of meeting Ron's eyes. "You could've owled, at least. Let someone know where you were. You had me and Hermione frantic."
"I — I was in London. It snowed."
"Charming," he said derisively, "Lovely. What were you doing in London?"
Ron blushed, remembering just what he'd spent most of his holiday doing. "I was — er — with Draco."
"Yeah. I figured." Harry got up and walked out of the room.
"But — Harry —"
He searched Hogwarts grounds all afternoon, but couldn't find him.

***

Dinner was, as usual, an elaborate affair, and Ron was overwhelmed by the opulance of the Christmas decorations as he entered the Great Hall; no matter how many times he saw it, it never failed to amaze him. Hesitantly, he headed to his usual spot next to Harry; he had arrived late in order to assure there would be no other vacancy. Sure enough, it was the only empty chair at the Gryffindor table.
"Hey Harry, Hermione," he said cheerfully.
Silence.
"Er — Harry ..."
"Why don't you go sit at the Slytherin table?" Harry suggested icily. "You're not wanted here."
"I'm ... not wanted there. Either," he whispered, tears stinging his eyes.
"Oh, I'm sure that Malfoy's approval will give you immunity from the rest of the house, even if they all still hate you."
"But Harry ... that's — that's why I've been trying to find you.... We broke up, Harry. That's what I wanted to tell you before, but you left, and—"
"I'll talk to you about it later," Harry cut him short, and Ron saw that Dumbledore was about to make a speech, and he sighed and was silent.

***

It was late, nearly midnight; Neville was asleep, Seamus and Dean were already in bed — the -same- bed, he had noted, with more than a twinge of jealousy — and Harry was nowhere to be found. With Hermione, probably.
"Hey," Harry's voice cut through the darkness. Ron started.
"God, Harry, give some warning will you."
"Sorrry." Harry whipped off the invisibility cloak and grinned sheepishly at Ron, sitting cautiously on the end of his friend's bed. "Forget I'm wearing it, sometimes."
"Um. It's alright."
"So you and Draco ... broke up?"
"It looks that way. Nothing personal, of course," he wondered if he sounded sarcastic; he was too tired to tell, really, "it's just that he's a -Malfoy- you know."
"-He- dumped -you-?"
Ron laughed at Harry's shocked tone. "What did you expect? I was — I'm nearly -infatuated- with him, Harry. And it really was a name thing, for the record; bad enough that the only heir to the Malfoy family fortune's gay, but ...."
Harry shook his head. "Honestly, Ron, I don't think anyone considers you to be 'a Weasley' except yourself. You're -Ron-, that's all. You dwell on it too much."
"Possible. Fact remain ...."
"It's over?"
"Quite."
"I — I'm sorry," Harry said after a moment's hesitation. "I was terrible about the whole thing, and it meant so much to you, and —"
"It's okay." Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he smiled. "I know you didn't mean anything by it. If I'd been in your place, after all, I'd've done the same thing."
"Me and -Malfoy-?" Harry looked flabbergasted, and vaugely offended that such a thing could even be suggested. Ron laughed.
"That wasn't -exactly- what I meant, but alright, if you'd like to think of it that way."
"I suppose ..." Harry laughed, "I suppose it's all for the best, actually. Saved us all a lot of embarassment." Ron looked at him, confused. "I was — this is so ridiculous — but I was half-ready to go, I don't know, -rescue- you from him or something."
"What, on a white horse, Prince Harry?" He smirked. "Thank you, but I'm perfectly capable of saving myself, should I ever be in need of saving. You know," he teased, "if this was a fairytale, right about ... now, you'd realize you'd always been in love with me really, and —"
"And on that note, I'll be leaving now!" With an entirely unnecessary flourish, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and vanished.
Ron lay back in his bed and smiled, sleep coming over him again. "Happily ever after, hmm? Maybe someday ...."