[The usual disclaimer so that I don't get sued for copyright infringement.]
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It all passed in a blur. Harry Potter threw his things into his trunk, grabbed Hedwig's cage and raced out into Privet Drive. The Knight Bus appeared with a bang, and he threw some money into the face of Stan Shunpike as he fell backwards onto the bed farthest in the corner. He slept the whole way to the Burrow, waking only when Stan shouted in his ear that they were there. Harry dragged his trunk and owl cage out of the bus and stood blearily in front of Ron Weasley's house.
Harry could feel himself still shaking a little from the whirling fear of his escape from Privet Drive. The sun was barely up; Harry supposed it must be very early in the morning. Before he had time to fully regain his composure, Mrs. Weasley came out of the house, presumably for the morning paper, and spotted him.
"Harry!"
Harry's eyes widened and he found himself momentarily unable to speak.
"Harry, are you all right? What are you doing here? Ron's not expecting you until next month." Seeing Harry's stricken face, she crossed the yard in a few strides and pulled him to her in a very motherly hug. The moment Harry was in her arms, he burst into tears.
"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "Uncle Vernon... thrown out... nowhere else to go... so sorry... where's Ron..." Only a few phrases came through his choking sobs, but the moment Mrs. Weasley heard the last one she wrapped her arm around Harry's shoulders, led him into the house and seated him at the kitchen table. She was filling the tea kettle when Fred and George stumbled down the stairs.
"What's going on?" asked Fred. He saw Harry's red, tear-streaked face. "Hello Harry. What's wrong?"
"Hi Harry. What're you doing here?" said George.
"Boys," said Mrs. Weasley. "I need one of you to go and wake Ron and the other to get Harry's things from the front yard."
"All right." The twins left in opposite directions.
"George," called Harry after the one going toward the yard. "Could you let Hedwig out of her cage so she can stretch her wings please?"
George nodded and disappeared through the front door.
Mrs. Weasley handed Harry a cup of tea and a handkerchief before seating herself beside him. "Now, then, dear, tell me-" she was cut off my the sound of Ron running into the kitchen.
"Harry! What's wrong? Fred said..." He ran to Harry, but stopped himself before he followed his first instinct to throw his arms around his friend.
"Tell us, please dear," said Mrs. Weasley kindly.
"Actually, I... um.. I need to speak to Ron first, privately, if it's all right."
Fred and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a meaningful glance. "Certainly, dear."
"Come on." Ron led Harry up to his room and shut the door. The moment they were alone, Ron pulled Harry close, wrapping his arms around him tightly. As soon as Harry was safe in Ron's embrace, he began to cry again.
"Oh, Ron, I've missed you so terribly. You don't know what it's like, having to hide all the time. It's the worst feeling in the world." A fresh wave of misery overtook him, and Ron sat him down on the bed. Harry wrapped his arms around Ron's mid-section and let the tears flow for a while. Ron simply held Harry, rocking gently back and forth and stroking his friend's back until Harry was calm enough to speak.
"Last night, before supper, Uncle Vernon sent me out to post some letters for him. When I came back, the three of them were in the kitchen, the door shut, talking quietly. I could tell they were angry, so I went up to my room. As soon as I got there, I knew something was wrong. I... I had been working on a letter to you..."
Ron suddenly saw where the story was going.
"They called me down to the kitchen a few minutes later. Dudley had been in my room, going through my things, and he found the letters you'd sent me, and the one I was writing to you. They were spread out all over the kitchen table. I tried to deny it, but it was no good. They said that this was too much, it was too disgusting to live with, that I had thirty seconds to get out of the house and that they never wanted to see me again." Harry shuddered. "I didn't mind that so much, but it was the things they said about you, about me, about... us. I couldn't stand it. I can't bear to think of that kind of hatred. How can anyone think things like that about you, Ron? How can they not understand? Don't they realize how amazing you are?"
"Hush," said Ron quietly. "It's alright, Harry. You're safe here, you know that. I've missed you too. It doesn't matter what they think. You're right, they just don't understand. What's important is that you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you, all right?" He looked Harry squarely in the face. "I love you."
"I love you too, Ron. Thank you." Harry sniffed and wiped his eyes with the handkerchief. "Ron, does your family know about us?"
Ron shifted slightly. "No, but it's only because I've been trying to work up the nerve to tell them. Now that you're here... well... it's as good a time as any. Go and wash your face and I'll meet you in the kitchen." He kissed Harry gently on the forehead and squeezed his hand before opening the door. "I'll wait for you there, and we can confess together." He winked and disappeared down the stairs.
By the time Harry reached the kitchen, all but Mr. Weasley and Percy were seated around the table, eating breakfast.
"Would you like something, Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"Yes, please," said Harry, settling into a chair beside Ron. "When are we going to do it?" he whispered into Ron's ear.
Before Ron could answer, Mrs. Weasley set a heaping plate in front of Harry and took a seat at the end of the table. Across from the two boys, Ginny and the twins were thoroughly engrossed in their own eggs and sausage.
"So, Harry," began Mrs. Weasley. "Can you tell me what's going on?"
"Seriously, Harry," said Fred thickly through a mouthful of egg. "What's happening?"
"Well..." Harry looked at Ron for assistance.
"Um, before he explains, you should know something," said Ron. He was visibly nervous, tapping his fingers on the tabletop while his ears got very red. "I... well... Harry... I mean... we..."
"C'mon Ron, spit it out," said George.
"We're in love," blurted Harry. "Ron and I, I mean."
Ginny's fork hit the floor.
"Um... yeah." Ron lowered his head and looked furtively at his family.
"You owe me a galleon," Fred said to his twin. George sighed and stood up, digging through his pockets until he found a gold coin and handed it to Fred.
Mrs. Weasley continued to sip her tea.
"Mum..." said Ginny. "Did you hear what they said?"
"Certainly. I'm just not that surprised."
"You're not?" said Ron.
"I'm not. I'm pleased that you finally told me, but I've had my suspicions for years."
"You have?"
Mrs. Weasley nodded into her tea.
"Are you telling me that since I was a kid you've had me pegged as the gay one?" Ron's voice bordered on outrage.
"Certainly not. There's just something in the way you talk about Harry that didn't seem to be merely platonic."
Harry looked at Ron, smiling wickedly. "Why Mrs. Weasley, whatever did he say?"
Mrs. Weasley rose, smacking Harry lightly on the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper. "Nothing of interest to you." Her face was lit by a smile. "I am happy for both of you. I wish you every joy." She reached out and hugged one boy with each arm. When she pulled back, her eyes were slightly misty.
"Anyway, the reason I'm here," said Harry. "Is that the Dursleys found out last night, and said that I could never come back. I'm so sorry to impose, but I've got nowhere else to go. I mean, Sirius is still in hiding, and I don't know where Hermione lives. Otherwise I wouldn't have bothered you so early."
"Don't say another word about it, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, her composure regained. "We're happy to have you."
George snorted. "Don't know where Hermione lives. You just couldn't resist the chance to see a certain someone." He and Fred laughed into their breakfasts for a moment before Mrs. Weasley reached out and smacked them with her newspaper.
"What was that with the galleon?" asked Harry.
"Oh, well, we had a bet going," said Fred, eyeing the newspaper. "Last year I started to get the idea that you two were 'an item', and George disagreed, so I bet him a galleon that you were."
"Ah."
"I must say though," said George. "I really don't mind losing this one." He winked at Harry and Ron, smiled, and returned to his breakfast.
The End.
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