Chapter 9- A Boy's Kiss
*Dear Professor Lupin*
Harry scratched out the first line immediately, discarding the parchment. "Professor Lupin" just didn't seem right anymore. He had not been their teacher for three years, and last year…Harry felt closer to the man now, probably because he was the last of the Marauders. After a moment of hesitation, Harry started the letter over.
*Dear Remus,
I hope you don't mind I called you Remus. I just don't know what else to call you.
I'm writing because I want to know what's going on. I've heard no word of Voldemort from anyone, nothing's been in the papers. Even the Slytherins aren't gloating about Muggle-born killings. I'm in the dark here, what's happening? What is Voldemort planning?
On a side note- how are you? I hope you're well…I'm doing okay, grades are fine, Quidditch is going really well. Snape is still the same old- well, you know what he's like. The new Defense teacher is something. I think he's older than Dumbledore, and he knows everything. Not as good a teacher as you, though.
~Harry*
After looking over the letter, Harry decided that it was alright to send. He pulled a sweater over his faded black t-shirt and headed up to the owlery.
Malfoy was there, standing next to the window, suspiciously wiping something from his face. He turned and stiffened, his eyes turning cold. "Out of my way, Potter," he snapped, stalking past him.
Once Malfoy had left, Harry shook his head. He would never be able to stand that git. Directing his train of thought to sending the letter, he looked up in search of Hedwig. He easily spotted her snowy white form among the many-shaded owls. She swooped gracefully onto his arm, and waited patiently for him to attach the letter. "To Lupin, okay?"
She nipped his finger affectionately, then flew off to deliver the letter. Harry left for the dorms again, eager to sleep after the rigorous Quidditch practice that day. Thoughts of the next day's game set butterflies all around his stomach. He tried to divert his thoughts once more, and they wandered to someone he had been thinking of more often than he knew why lately.
The next morning at breakfast, Hedwig descended on him with a reply from Lupin.
*Harry-
Just Remus is fine. I was wondering when you'd stop calling me "Professor Lupin". As far as we know, Voldemort's not making any moves. Will try to give you as much information as I can. You should be concentrating on school, anyway, not Voldemort. Sorry, not enough time to write a proper letter. I'm fine, by the way.
~Remus*
Harry made a sound of frustration that startled Ron. "What is it?"
He passed Lupin's note to his red-haired friend, who scanned it quickly. "I don't get it, Harry. What's the problem."
"We're being left out of the loop, I know it. Why do you think Remus didn't have enough time to write back in full sentences? They're doing something, they've got to be, but no one wants to include me in anything. Don't they realize what I'm going to have to-"
He broke off there. He had not yet told Ron what he would have to do to stop Voldemort, and did not think this would be the best time to tell him. He glanced at Ron. For some reason, he looked pained.
"You don't need this, Harry. We're going up against Ravenclaw today. You've got to concentrate on the match. This is for the Cup, remember? Because it's not like Hufflepuff will be able to do anything against us…"
Harry smiled gratefully at his friend, knowing that he was right. He looked at Hermione curiously for the tenth time that morning. "Hermione, are you all right? Why aren't you talking?"
"Yeah, shouldn't you be yelling at us for not having studied for N.E.W.T.s yet?" Ron teased. Harry grinned briefly at this, but sobered quickly.
"Come on, you can talk to us."
"It's nothing, all right? Good- good luck today."
"You're coming to watch, aren't you?"
"Oh- no," she said, giving both Ron and Harry a pleading look. "Don't get mad! I already promised. I have to do something."
"What?"
"Just something."
"It can't be more important than Quidditch."
"Oh, Ron, your priorities are hopeless." She sighed and collected her books. "I'll see you guys later."
Ron watched her leave, shaking his head just slightly. "Sometimes I just don't know about her."
Harry, after a moment, burst out laughing at this. Ron eyed him mock-fearfully, then joined him. Ginny found them this way when she moved down the table.
"I don't want to know what you're laughing at. I just came to tell you Katie wants us down at the pitch in fifteen minutes." She turned on her heel and left, throwing one last glance back at them.
"We should go," Harry said, rising. The butterflies fluttered in his stomach again.
"Don't worry, Harry," Ron said, as though sensing his feelings. "You're going to do great. Like always."
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Ron was not sure he could hold out much longer. The Ravenclaw Chasers were tougher than he had been giving them credit for. They had just scored three consecutive times, and he was losing concentration.
He was relieved when he realized that the game was over. He smiled down at Harry, clutching the snitch in his fist. *Knew you could do it, mate.* He flew down on top of him and joined the team in enveloping him in a crushing hug.
"Good show, Ron!" Harry yelled above the cheers of the crowd.
"You were better," Ron replied. Harry grinned. They headed toward the showers with the rest of the team.
Once again, he found himself wondering where Hermione was. *Probably studying and was too embarrassed to admit it,* he thought. Then again, when had Hermione ever bee embarrassed to be studying?
Harry shouldered his broom. "I'll be in the owlery, mate. See if I can't get any answers out of Lupin."
"Not this again," Ron groaned. "Harry, you've got to get your mind off Voldemort. It's all you ever think about these days. Why can't you just relax, Harry? We're only sixteen, there's no reason for us to worry about it. We've been caught up in these things for almost every year at Hogwarts, but it wasn't necessarily our fault. Now, you're going to go *looking* for trouble?"
Harry opened his mouth, but closed it again a moment later. He shook his head and left.
Ron sighed. No matter how hard he tried, Voldemort was Harry's main topic of thought. Sometimes Ron wondered, sarcastically of course, when they would be announcing their engagement.
"Is Harry gone already?" Katie asked. Ron nodded. "Damn. I wanted to talk to him about…well, that's a surprise," she said, winking. "Oh well, I'll get him next time."
Ron walked up to Gryffindor Tower alone, because it was a choice between solitude and walking with Ginny and Seamus. Though he was now able to refrain from killing Seamus, seeing them together made him want to throttle the guy. He almost felt sorry for him. He was glad, only because of this, that being a prefect got him a private room. He would hate to wake up one day to find that he had sleep-murdered Seamus.
As he walked, his thoughts returned to his best friend. Harry was hopelessly obsessed with carrying the world on his shoulders. Ron wanted to make him see that others would help him bear this burden, but Harry did not want to burden others. He had integrity, and was quite kind, but proud as all hell. He would not let anyone help him unless it was not his choice.
Sighing again, Ron flopped facedown on his bed. He would have fallen asleep immediately if it wasn't for the gnawing hole in his stomach. Groaning slightly, he pushed himself up and trudged off toward the kitchens.
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Hermione glanced at the clock. "I think the Quidditch match is about over."
Draco followed her gaze. *Damn. Hermione's too careful, she won't stay any longer because we 'might get caught'.* "All right. We can go, I suppose." He stood, offering her an hand up.
"It was nice talking to you again," she smiled. "You promise you'll have the roses in three weeks?"
"Yeah. They're a magical kind of rose. They bloom in the summer and in the winter only. Usually they start in the middle of December for the winter season."
"All right. I look forward to it, greatly." She smiled at him again as she left.
Hermione smiled a lot. It was one of the things he noticed about her. Since fourth year, when she had her teeth fixed, she had the most beautiful smile. He was glad she showed it to him so often. He himself smiled more often with her than he had in his entire life.
Draco fell back onto the fluffy ground cushion, sighing. He wished he had one of these at home. When he had gone to the Room this time, he had thought, *I need a place to be completely comfortable*. The most cloudlike cushions had been on the ground when he entered, as had Hermione, of course, looking surprised at the sudden change in the room. She had not hesitated to sink into one of the cushions herself, sighing with pleasure as she did. Draco had smiled amusedly at her, and she had threatened to give him a permanent smile, which had only caused him to smile wider.
What he needed right then, was a way to tell Hermione his feelings, his deepest feelings, that were the only things he hid from her. When he thought this, a thin slip of parchment fell into his hand. It read, "Request not operable."
He almost laughed at this. A room was telling him that his wishes were hopeless. He supposed they were.
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Harry woke, knowing it was very late. His roommates were snoring loudly- or, one of them was. It reverberated through the room, coming from all directions. Harry shook his head at the culprit, whoever it was. The snore, however, was not what had woken him.
Something was not right. Not exactly *wrong*, just not exactly as it should be. Harry, wondering what could be causing this feeling, decided to go ask Ron what he thought. Ron, however, was not in his room. Surprised, Harry sat down in the hall to think.
After a few minutes of this, to no avail, he headed to the bathroom. He heard odd sounds from behind the door. Pushing it open slightly, he peeked in. Ron was sitting next to the door with his back to the wall, his red hair plain even in the dark. The sounds seemed to be coming from Ron.
"Ron?" Harry said quietly. "What's happening?"
"Nothing," Ron said gruffly. Harry slipped in, locking the door behind him. This did not seem like something they would want someone to interrupt.
"Are you crying?"
"No." Ron would not turn to face him, and both hands hid his face from Harry.
"Come on," Harry said worriedly. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"
"No!" Ron was clearly irritated now.
Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, facing his friend. Ron looked up in surprise. It was still dark in the bathroom, but Harry didn't mind. He could see well enough, since he had his glasses.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked.
"Sitting," Harry replied. "Not against the law, is it? I won't get a detention for sitting in the bathroom?"
Ron smiled weakly and shook his head. Harry saw clearly that Ron *had* been crying, no matter what he said. Harry had some idea what it might be about.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a crush, would it?"
Looking up in alarm, Ron answered, "How did you know?"
"Well, I've seen you around lately. How could it be anything but a crush?" Harry grinned knowingly as he said this, but his heart went out to his friend as he remembered how he had felt toward Cho for so long. "Remember, I had the biggest crush a guy could not wish for."
"It's different," Ron said immediately.
"How?"
"Well, I- you- oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand."
"Wouldn't I?"
Ron did not meet Harry's gaze. They sat in silence, Harry pondering what Ron could mean, Ron looking like he wanted nothing more in the world than for Harry to go away. After a while, Harry began to fathom Ron's meaning. It *was* different for Ron. Ron did not like someone like Cho… in fact, the person Harry thought Ron was talking about was nothing like Cho Chang at all.
Harry had never considered the possibility before. Now that he thought about it…why not? There was no reason why Ron should not have a crush on his best friend. There was more to it, however. Before Harry could stop himself, he had begun to lean forward.
Ron froze at first. When Harry's lips touched his, he felt Ron lean into the kiss slightly. It was gentle and not long at all. When Harry pulled away, they both smiled. Suddenly, though, Harry was blushing like mad. Not knowing what else to say, he stood and stumbled back to his bed.
He decided he liked kissing a certain boy.
End Chapter 9
If you read the summary, you *should* have been expecting that. But, hey, some people are just slow. No, I'm just kidding, I love every one of you.
Spectre Ithilien- First of all I'd like to say I love your name. It's so…mystical. Anyway, I liked your review, you went into what you liked about it. I appreciated that. And you know, I'm glad you noticed that about Draco. :)
Nowwwwwwww go review. Please?
*Dear Professor Lupin*
Harry scratched out the first line immediately, discarding the parchment. "Professor Lupin" just didn't seem right anymore. He had not been their teacher for three years, and last year…Harry felt closer to the man now, probably because he was the last of the Marauders. After a moment of hesitation, Harry started the letter over.
*Dear Remus,
I hope you don't mind I called you Remus. I just don't know what else to call you.
I'm writing because I want to know what's going on. I've heard no word of Voldemort from anyone, nothing's been in the papers. Even the Slytherins aren't gloating about Muggle-born killings. I'm in the dark here, what's happening? What is Voldemort planning?
On a side note- how are you? I hope you're well…I'm doing okay, grades are fine, Quidditch is going really well. Snape is still the same old- well, you know what he's like. The new Defense teacher is something. I think he's older than Dumbledore, and he knows everything. Not as good a teacher as you, though.
~Harry*
After looking over the letter, Harry decided that it was alright to send. He pulled a sweater over his faded black t-shirt and headed up to the owlery.
Malfoy was there, standing next to the window, suspiciously wiping something from his face. He turned and stiffened, his eyes turning cold. "Out of my way, Potter," he snapped, stalking past him.
Once Malfoy had left, Harry shook his head. He would never be able to stand that git. Directing his train of thought to sending the letter, he looked up in search of Hedwig. He easily spotted her snowy white form among the many-shaded owls. She swooped gracefully onto his arm, and waited patiently for him to attach the letter. "To Lupin, okay?"
She nipped his finger affectionately, then flew off to deliver the letter. Harry left for the dorms again, eager to sleep after the rigorous Quidditch practice that day. Thoughts of the next day's game set butterflies all around his stomach. He tried to divert his thoughts once more, and they wandered to someone he had been thinking of more often than he knew why lately.
The next morning at breakfast, Hedwig descended on him with a reply from Lupin.
*Harry-
Just Remus is fine. I was wondering when you'd stop calling me "Professor Lupin". As far as we know, Voldemort's not making any moves. Will try to give you as much information as I can. You should be concentrating on school, anyway, not Voldemort. Sorry, not enough time to write a proper letter. I'm fine, by the way.
~Remus*
Harry made a sound of frustration that startled Ron. "What is it?"
He passed Lupin's note to his red-haired friend, who scanned it quickly. "I don't get it, Harry. What's the problem."
"We're being left out of the loop, I know it. Why do you think Remus didn't have enough time to write back in full sentences? They're doing something, they've got to be, but no one wants to include me in anything. Don't they realize what I'm going to have to-"
He broke off there. He had not yet told Ron what he would have to do to stop Voldemort, and did not think this would be the best time to tell him. He glanced at Ron. For some reason, he looked pained.
"You don't need this, Harry. We're going up against Ravenclaw today. You've got to concentrate on the match. This is for the Cup, remember? Because it's not like Hufflepuff will be able to do anything against us…"
Harry smiled gratefully at his friend, knowing that he was right. He looked at Hermione curiously for the tenth time that morning. "Hermione, are you all right? Why aren't you talking?"
"Yeah, shouldn't you be yelling at us for not having studied for N.E.W.T.s yet?" Ron teased. Harry grinned briefly at this, but sobered quickly.
"Come on, you can talk to us."
"It's nothing, all right? Good- good luck today."
"You're coming to watch, aren't you?"
"Oh- no," she said, giving both Ron and Harry a pleading look. "Don't get mad! I already promised. I have to do something."
"What?"
"Just something."
"It can't be more important than Quidditch."
"Oh, Ron, your priorities are hopeless." She sighed and collected her books. "I'll see you guys later."
Ron watched her leave, shaking his head just slightly. "Sometimes I just don't know about her."
Harry, after a moment, burst out laughing at this. Ron eyed him mock-fearfully, then joined him. Ginny found them this way when she moved down the table.
"I don't want to know what you're laughing at. I just came to tell you Katie wants us down at the pitch in fifteen minutes." She turned on her heel and left, throwing one last glance back at them.
"We should go," Harry said, rising. The butterflies fluttered in his stomach again.
"Don't worry, Harry," Ron said, as though sensing his feelings. "You're going to do great. Like always."
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Ron was not sure he could hold out much longer. The Ravenclaw Chasers were tougher than he had been giving them credit for. They had just scored three consecutive times, and he was losing concentration.
He was relieved when he realized that the game was over. He smiled down at Harry, clutching the snitch in his fist. *Knew you could do it, mate.* He flew down on top of him and joined the team in enveloping him in a crushing hug.
"Good show, Ron!" Harry yelled above the cheers of the crowd.
"You were better," Ron replied. Harry grinned. They headed toward the showers with the rest of the team.
Once again, he found himself wondering where Hermione was. *Probably studying and was too embarrassed to admit it,* he thought. Then again, when had Hermione ever bee embarrassed to be studying?
Harry shouldered his broom. "I'll be in the owlery, mate. See if I can't get any answers out of Lupin."
"Not this again," Ron groaned. "Harry, you've got to get your mind off Voldemort. It's all you ever think about these days. Why can't you just relax, Harry? We're only sixteen, there's no reason for us to worry about it. We've been caught up in these things for almost every year at Hogwarts, but it wasn't necessarily our fault. Now, you're going to go *looking* for trouble?"
Harry opened his mouth, but closed it again a moment later. He shook his head and left.
Ron sighed. No matter how hard he tried, Voldemort was Harry's main topic of thought. Sometimes Ron wondered, sarcastically of course, when they would be announcing their engagement.
"Is Harry gone already?" Katie asked. Ron nodded. "Damn. I wanted to talk to him about…well, that's a surprise," she said, winking. "Oh well, I'll get him next time."
Ron walked up to Gryffindor Tower alone, because it was a choice between solitude and walking with Ginny and Seamus. Though he was now able to refrain from killing Seamus, seeing them together made him want to throttle the guy. He almost felt sorry for him. He was glad, only because of this, that being a prefect got him a private room. He would hate to wake up one day to find that he had sleep-murdered Seamus.
As he walked, his thoughts returned to his best friend. Harry was hopelessly obsessed with carrying the world on his shoulders. Ron wanted to make him see that others would help him bear this burden, but Harry did not want to burden others. He had integrity, and was quite kind, but proud as all hell. He would not let anyone help him unless it was not his choice.
Sighing again, Ron flopped facedown on his bed. He would have fallen asleep immediately if it wasn't for the gnawing hole in his stomach. Groaning slightly, he pushed himself up and trudged off toward the kitchens.
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Hermione glanced at the clock. "I think the Quidditch match is about over."
Draco followed her gaze. *Damn. Hermione's too careful, she won't stay any longer because we 'might get caught'.* "All right. We can go, I suppose." He stood, offering her an hand up.
"It was nice talking to you again," she smiled. "You promise you'll have the roses in three weeks?"
"Yeah. They're a magical kind of rose. They bloom in the summer and in the winter only. Usually they start in the middle of December for the winter season."
"All right. I look forward to it, greatly." She smiled at him again as she left.
Hermione smiled a lot. It was one of the things he noticed about her. Since fourth year, when she had her teeth fixed, she had the most beautiful smile. He was glad she showed it to him so often. He himself smiled more often with her than he had in his entire life.
Draco fell back onto the fluffy ground cushion, sighing. He wished he had one of these at home. When he had gone to the Room this time, he had thought, *I need a place to be completely comfortable*. The most cloudlike cushions had been on the ground when he entered, as had Hermione, of course, looking surprised at the sudden change in the room. She had not hesitated to sink into one of the cushions herself, sighing with pleasure as she did. Draco had smiled amusedly at her, and she had threatened to give him a permanent smile, which had only caused him to smile wider.
What he needed right then, was a way to tell Hermione his feelings, his deepest feelings, that were the only things he hid from her. When he thought this, a thin slip of parchment fell into his hand. It read, "Request not operable."
He almost laughed at this. A room was telling him that his wishes were hopeless. He supposed they were.
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Harry woke, knowing it was very late. His roommates were snoring loudly- or, one of them was. It reverberated through the room, coming from all directions. Harry shook his head at the culprit, whoever it was. The snore, however, was not what had woken him.
Something was not right. Not exactly *wrong*, just not exactly as it should be. Harry, wondering what could be causing this feeling, decided to go ask Ron what he thought. Ron, however, was not in his room. Surprised, Harry sat down in the hall to think.
After a few minutes of this, to no avail, he headed to the bathroom. He heard odd sounds from behind the door. Pushing it open slightly, he peeked in. Ron was sitting next to the door with his back to the wall, his red hair plain even in the dark. The sounds seemed to be coming from Ron.
"Ron?" Harry said quietly. "What's happening?"
"Nothing," Ron said gruffly. Harry slipped in, locking the door behind him. This did not seem like something they would want someone to interrupt.
"Are you crying?"
"No." Ron would not turn to face him, and both hands hid his face from Harry.
"Come on," Harry said worriedly. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"
"No!" Ron was clearly irritated now.
Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, facing his friend. Ron looked up in surprise. It was still dark in the bathroom, but Harry didn't mind. He could see well enough, since he had his glasses.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked.
"Sitting," Harry replied. "Not against the law, is it? I won't get a detention for sitting in the bathroom?"
Ron smiled weakly and shook his head. Harry saw clearly that Ron *had* been crying, no matter what he said. Harry had some idea what it might be about.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a crush, would it?"
Looking up in alarm, Ron answered, "How did you know?"
"Well, I've seen you around lately. How could it be anything but a crush?" Harry grinned knowingly as he said this, but his heart went out to his friend as he remembered how he had felt toward Cho for so long. "Remember, I had the biggest crush a guy could not wish for."
"It's different," Ron said immediately.
"How?"
"Well, I- you- oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand."
"Wouldn't I?"
Ron did not meet Harry's gaze. They sat in silence, Harry pondering what Ron could mean, Ron looking like he wanted nothing more in the world than for Harry to go away. After a while, Harry began to fathom Ron's meaning. It *was* different for Ron. Ron did not like someone like Cho… in fact, the person Harry thought Ron was talking about was nothing like Cho Chang at all.
Harry had never considered the possibility before. Now that he thought about it…why not? There was no reason why Ron should not have a crush on his best friend. There was more to it, however. Before Harry could stop himself, he had begun to lean forward.
Ron froze at first. When Harry's lips touched his, he felt Ron lean into the kiss slightly. It was gentle and not long at all. When Harry pulled away, they both smiled. Suddenly, though, Harry was blushing like mad. Not knowing what else to say, he stood and stumbled back to his bed.
He decided he liked kissing a certain boy.
End Chapter 9
If you read the summary, you *should* have been expecting that. But, hey, some people are just slow. No, I'm just kidding, I love every one of you.
Spectre Ithilien- First of all I'd like to say I love your name. It's so…mystical. Anyway, I liked your review, you went into what you liked about it. I appreciated that. And you know, I'm glad you noticed that about Draco. :)
Nowwwwwwww go review. Please?