Title: A Sympathetic Ear, Chapter 3

Author: RavynFayre

Pairing: Harry/Ron

Rating: PG-13 – two nice boys snogging (each other, that is)

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns these boys, not me - which will be quite obvious once you starting reading!

Summary: Harry has a sympathetic ear, and a possible solution, for Ron's disastrous dating life.

Category: Angst/Romance

I could see Ron was in the midst of a full-blown panic attack, a neon sign flashing over his head: //He said yes! What am I supposed to do now?//

His nervousness made itself more apparent when red splotches appeared suddenly on his freckled cheeks. I smiled, opened the door and bowed slightly, giving a sweeping "after you" gesture. As a smile played only briefly at his lips, a wide-eyed Ron ducked his head and slipped out the door, his hands fidgeting in and out of the pockets of his robe.

I followed him down the stairs, nothing that his eyes were trained on his own shoes. He was so intent on the task of descending the stairs, he nearly collided with Seamus, who was racing up the stairs.

"Careful, Ron!" Seamus called out. "You almost laid me out."

"Sorry," Ron replied, still watching his feet.

"You know how he is at meal time," I said, trying to cover for my friend. "Only one thing on his mind. See you downstairs in a few minutes."

Through the portrait hole and down the corridors toward the Great Hall for dinner, Ron spoke not a word. I could only imagine the internal dialogue Ron must have had with himself before coming to this decision. I only hoped he wasn't second guessing himself now.

During dinner, Ron was unusually quiet and ate almost nothing, instead making colorful patterns as he pushed his food around the plate. Our friends noticed immediately.

"Ron, if you're not going to finish that . . ." Seamus pointed with is fork toward the roast beef.

"Are you not feeling well?" Hermione asked.

"That's disgusting," Neville said. "Eat it or don't, but stop making a mess with your food."

I watched Ron throughout the meal, noticing his trembling hands, the utensils dancing over the plate. I had to rescue him from this. "Finished, mate?" I asked.

When Ron's eyes finally met mine, I could tell he wasn't sure whether he should be relieved, or afraid of what would happen next. "Yeah," Ron replied shakily. He pushed the plate away and rose unsteadily.

"See you later," I said to the others as I followed Ron out of the Hall.

Ron, still visibly shaking, stopped just outside the Hall doors and turned to wait for me. He smiled again nervously and said, "I guess I didn't plan this out as well as I thought."

"It's okay," I said, putting a reassuring arm around his shoulders. "No need to be so worried. It's just me, remember? I'm just Harry."

Ron shook his head. "No. No. This is different," he insisted.

I nodded at the realization. //Everything is different now.// "Maybe you're right," I agreed. "Let's get some fresh air." I steered Ron outside into the gathering twilight.

Dating at Hogwarts has a unique set of problems. While weekends allow for travel to Hogsmeade and a nice variety of restaurants, snack shops and the odd alcove reserved for snogging, during the week, students are confined to the castle and grounds. Options are woefully limited.

Once again, we walked in silence, heading in the general direction of the Quidditch pitch. Ron had opened his robe and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. Shoulders slumped, he studied the ground, sneaking glances at me from the corner of his eye.

While some part of me was secretly enjoying watching Ron squirm, I could also appreciate the courage it took him to take such a leap of faith. I wasn't going to ruin the chance of a lifetime by treating this as a joke.

We reached the Quidditch stands and Ron climbed up, sitting down heavily. I slid onto the seat beside him, watching as Ron's fingers twisted around each other. I placed my hand lightly on his arm.

"I know this was hard for you," I said quietly. "But I'm glad you did it." I sighed contentedly when Ron's hand covered mine.

"Me, too," he said. I felt my heart leap for joy. "I'm sorry about all this. I don't know why I'm so nervous. We've known each other seven years now. I just . . . thought this would be easier somehow."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You took a big step today, and I can't tell you how happy I am that you took that step in my direction."

We sat in silence for a while, his hand warming mine, which still rested on his arm. "I never thought about being with a guy before," he said quietly, "but when you started hinting about the two of us, it actually made sense."

"I'd really given up on dating myself," I told him. "I just wasn't hitting it off with anybody. I thought about guys, but it just didn't feel right with anybody else. I knew that you were the one person I enjoyed being with all the time, and when you weren't around, I wanted to find you so I could be with you. Trying this did make me worry, though."

"About what?"

"Messing up our friendship. I know I'm the one who started all this, but if you feel like it's not working, please tell me. I'd rather stay friends with you than lose you because I did something stupid."

He laughed, relaxing, I think, for this first time that night. "If either of us is going to do something stupid, it will probably be me."

We never spent so much time *not* talking to each other as we did that night. But we also talked quite a bit, about everything and nothing. Little things that, under different circumstances, would seem trivial, but tonight seemed rather important. Even being best friends, we'd never really told each other *everything*, never wanting to bore each other with the minor details, but tonight was different, the start of something new for us. I wanted to know every little thing about him, and it seemed he felt the same way. Ron became more real to me that night, the tiny little nothings we discussed giving me a much clearer picture of him as a whole person, not just how he fit into my life as my best friend.

As awkwardly as things had begun, I think we both began to enjoy ourselves, and hesitated when the time came to go inside. We trudged back to the tower, knowing curfew was coming up any minute. We called our goodbyes to our housemates still studying in the Common Room and made our way upstairs.

Ron closed the door behind us and leaned against it. "Thank you for tonight, Harry. It was the best birthday ever."

"This weekend we can do some *real* celebrating at Hogsmeade."

"What do you mean? Tonight was great, really." He looked at me sheepishly. "Because I got to spend it with you." If his cheeks weren't already flushed from the cool night air, I know I'd be seeing him blush.

"I'm glad you feel that way. So do I."

"I'm going to get ready for bed."

"Wait a minute, Ron. There is one more thing," I said, trying to be casual. Trust me, when you *try* to be casual, it never comes out that way. "After all, it is your birthday."

His smile faded. The panic was setting in again. "I-I . . . we . . .but, Harry! This was just our first date!"

"Oh, Ron, no," I replied hastily. He'd actually remembered that! "Not that, no. It's not that. I just wondered if . . . could I kiss you?"

He relaxed, only a little, looking momentarily confused, but also intrigued. "Is it terribly different? From kissing a girl, I mean?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I've never kissed a guy before. I'm pretty sure it works the same way, though." I smiled, but worried at his hesitation. I didn't want to push him into anything he wasn't ready for. "If you don't want to, it's okay. You won't hurt my feelings." Actually he would, terribly, but I'd have to get over it.

"It's not that I don't want to," he insisted. "I just . . . don't want to do it wrong."

"Look at it this way. I've never done it before either, so I won't know if you're doing it wrong."

"Right," he nodded. He didn't move, though. This whole thing was my idea, so I was going to have to do the hard work, making the first move. I'm so pathetic. *I* should have planned this out better.

Ron was still leaning against our door, no doubt needing the support. He'd probably be a puddle on the ground, left on his own. I grabbed my wand and crossed back over to the door, casting a quick privacy spell. "Just in case," I said. He nodded vigorously in agreement. I stood there watching him, not at all sure how to go about this. I got closer, little by little. My heart was thundering in my chest, I just knew he could hear it. My hands were shaking and I clenched them into fists, trying to hide them in the billowing arms of my robe. He stared, eyes wide. The flush hadn't left his cheeks, but instead, had crept down his neck. He looked as if he'd spent all afternoon in the sun.

Finally, when I was as close as I could be without stepping on him, I reached out slowly, my hands going to his waist. I pulled him away from the door, toward me, his body against mine. I'd never been this close to him before in all these years. Not like this, at least. We'd hugged each other, sure, but definitely not like this. It felt so strange, but so good. He was breathing hard, I could feel it against my ear, since he'd already tilted his head a little to the right. I slipped my glasses off and into my pocket, tilting my own head. I think he wanted this as much as I did, since he leaned down to me. He had to, being about half a head taller than I am. I could taste his breath now, warm puffs across my lips. I licked my lips and he did the same. We both gave a quick smile and then, oh, I hope I can find the right words. So soft, much softer than I imagined. And yes, I had imagined what it would be like to kiss Ron. I took his bottom lip, kneading it gently with my own, tracing it with the tip of my tongue. I hadn't noticed where his hands were until I felt him gripping my upper arms. I tried to slip my tongue into his mouth, and with a little prodding, he let me. His lips were still a little cold from the night air, but the inside of his mouth was warm and inviting. I pulled him to me, not realizing we could get any closer.

I didn't want to lose this moment. I wanted to stay here with him forever, his one hand with its fingers running through my hair, the other holding me to him. This kiss seemed at once to go on forever, but it ended too soon. Gasping for air, our lips parted. But our bodies remained pressed together. I shivered, enjoying this new intimacy. I leaned against him, hoping he could hold me up. My legs felt like jelly.

"That didn't feel wrong at all," I whispered. "You did just fine." I couldn't move. Didn't want to.

"Mmmm," he replied, still trying to catch his breath. "You, too."

"What do we do now?" I wondered, surprised when I realized I'd spoken aloud.

"I think we should go to bed." He must have felt me smile against his chest as he added rather quickly, "To sleep, you git. Is that all you think about?"

"I'm seventeen years old, Ron. What else is there to think about?" He kissed me then, wanting to shut me up, no doubt. When we parted again, I told him, "If sleeping is what I'm supposed to do now, you should know that that didn't help very much."

"Shut up, Harry," he chuckled, pushing me toward my bed. "Goodnight."

"Happy birthday, Ron."

This was one birthday I was going to remember. And it wasn't even mine.

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